The most infuriating part, Tezuka decided, were the loaded glances he suddenly started getting from Kasahara on a regular basis. The worst was when it was pity.
Ever since Kasahara and officer Dojo had started going out, the atmosphere around team Dojo had changed to the point where even Tezuka picked up on it. Kasahara didn't glare rudely anymore when her work performance was corrected. Officer Dojo spent a little less time with his natural scowl on his face. This, of course, you wouldn't notice unless you were Tezuka, Komaki was sure to point out when Tezuka casually brought it up once. It took him a while to work past the initial shock of officer Dojo dating Kasahara, of all people, but deep down he begrudgingly felt happy for them. According to Shibasaki, it was totally inevitable.
Tezuka had so often counted on Kasahara making him look good that he was, blessedly, rarely the butt of whatever joke the task force was making that week. But now, however, the word "boorish" clicked around dismally in his head on a regular basis, uninvited and frustrating. His inexperience with women had never been a problem before, and he honestly hadn't given it any thought until now. This could be, he realized later, because he had never harbored "special feelings" for a woman his age before. His mother had been the closest female in his life, but there was no comparison between her and the enigma that was Shibasaki.
This, too, was infuriating. Someone like Shibasaki wasn't his type; why should he fall for her? Yet he couldn't deny the tender feelings that resurfaced whenever he thought about those few times he saw cracks in the iron façade she'd constructed for herself. -or, few times he thought he saw cracks; he still couldn't be sure.
No, he was positive she wasn't his "type". Tezuka's "type" of woman was more like…
Tezuka paused, bringing the cart of books he was pushing to a halt. His eyebrows turned down as he frowned at the books in front of him, forced once again to face his own social ineptitude. Why did it matter what his "type" was? Who cares? This isn't some shoujo manga; Tezuka left the worrying about romance to his roommates and washed his hands of it.
"Tezuka?" He snapped to attention, jolted out of his introspection, before registering Kasahara's voice behind him. He relaxed again, rearranging his frown to look irritable and uninviting so his thoughts wouldn't show on his face before turning around. She recoiled a little (maybe he overdid it)- "Jeez, what's that face for? You're the one just standing here motionless in the middle of the stacks. What if a patron wants to get by?" She was standing next to him now, glaring up at his annoyed countenance like it was a challenge.
Tezuka briefly entertained the idea of confiding his thoughts in Kasahara. He couldn't ask officer Dojo; the very idea of asking his superior officer for romantic advice was mortifying. The same went for officer Komaki, but with the addition that he would react almost assuredly by laughing, and then trying to politely hide the fact that he was laughing. Kasahara would probably make a production out of reacting in total bewilderment, and then sputtering out something useless that barely passed through her brain before leaving her mouth. Although, he could use an entertaining distraction.
In the few moments of silence it took for Tezuka to formulate this idea, Kasahara's expression went from indignant to wary, and just as she opened her mouth to ask what the hell was wrong with him, he cut her off. "What does it mean, to have a "type"?"
He carefully worded the question indifferently like he might in an academic setting, devoid of any personal connotation so Kasahara might be somewhat less suspicious of the intent behind it. Predictably, she visibly drew back and spat out a sharp "Huh?" And then "Where the hell did that come from?" And then, belatedly glancing around to make sure there were no patrons nearby, "stop screwing around!" If Tezuka had to guess, he'd say the three barely punctuated exclamations were the first things that popped into her head. Her entirely expected reaction would have been comical, except now he honestly wanted to know what she had to say in actual answer to the question. So he waited, expression blank, for her reply. After facing him down for another moment, she huffed a sigh. "You're completely serious, of course." Taking his continued silence for affirmation, she turned her gaze to the ceiling, thinking the question over. "Having a "type" is like… Well, it's just the sort of person you're drawn to, right? A "type" is the kind of personality you like in other people." The words meant about as much to Tezuka coming from Kasahara as they would have coming from a serial drama, but he was grateful that she tried. He nodded, about to thank her, before she tilted her head to the side and slyly asked, "Why, Tezuka? Somebody you're interested in?"
When did she get so perceptive? Tezuka's expression turned sour. They both knew exactly what was in the air with that question, so Tezuka saved them the trouble of beating around the bush by snapping "certainly not you," and stalking away with his cart of books to punctuate the end of the conversation.
Generally, things that weighed on Tezuka's mind were separated into two categories: work-related and Satoshi-related. More often than not, the two overlapped due to the meddling nature of Satoshi's recent business ventures- the Library of Tomorrow project was slowly but steadily working its influence into the ministry of justice, but so far no major changes had come through after the Touma mission. Satoshi was sure to call annoyingly often with even the smallest of updates, which Tezuka irritably accepted, if only to bolster Shibasaki's information network just one useless tidbit more. Tonight, however, he ignored his brother's texts for a different reason.
It was highly unusual, he reluctantly decided, that he should be preoccupied with personal matters (not involving Satoshi, of course; most matters with his brother were now officially removed from the "personal" category). His conversation with Kasahara earlier that day only spawned more and more speculations about "types" and romance and relationships. Not enough to impede his work performance, of course, but every now and then his thoughts naturally strayed towards the uncomfortable and confusing matter of where exactly he stood when it came to Shibasaki. It didn't matter either way to Tezuka if she was interested in dating him (or so he insisted to himself), but being able to put a word to the not-nothing that was between them would put his mind at ease. He stood in front of the vending machine in the co-ed section of the dorms, fishing for change in his pocket, when an odd sense of deja-vu came over him.
"Tezuka."
It wasn't a question; it was more like an affirmation. He turned around to see none other than Shibasaki standing a few feet away, also in lounge clothes, addressing him casually. He took a moment to find it odd that she didn't seem concerned about any of her hundreds of fanboys eavesdropping or creating problems for them. She raised a hand. "What a coincidence. I wanted to talk to you."
Tezuka raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "A coincidence? Are you sure you didn't know I would be getting a drink from the vending machine at this exact time?"
She tilted her head, looking away thoughtfully. "Hmm… I could say that my information network is so airtight that I could have tabs on you at every moment of every day if I really wanted to…" She trained her gaze back on his. "But I'll be honest instead, this time, just for you. It was a lucky guess that you'd be here. Or maybe it's fate?"
Tezuka felt a little exasperated by her cheeky grin, which still somehow didn't impede on her flawless countenance. He took a surreptitious glance around the room. Annoying coworkers grilling him for having a simple conversation with the dazzling Shibasaki was the last thing Tezuka wanted. Right next to Kasahara pitying him and relaying their conversations to Shibasaki. He grimaced to himself, hoping that wasn't what this spontaneous meeting was about. "You wanted to talk?"
"Yes. Are you aware that the Media Improvement Committee is trying to make a case challenging the constitutionality of allowing Touma-sensei to resist arrest?" Glad for the change of subject, Tezuka nodded. He remembered hearing something of the kind from Satoshi the other day, but it wasn't concerning.
"They had no grounds on which to arrest him. That case won't even make it to court. It's just another desperate attempt to try and tarnish the Library Force's public image." He paused. "Why? Has something come up? I've been neglecting his calls today," he admitted, choosing not to use his brother's name since they both knew who "he" was. It gave him a childish sense of triumph.
"No, nothing's come up… Just wanted to see if you'd heard," Shibasaki trailed off awkwardly. "You know," she tried again, taking on a different tone for a change in subject, "You probably still owe me a dinner or two for destroying my phone on your last mission. Want to take me out sometime?" Tezuka gawked at her.
"Owe you- or two?! I went around and gathered every single one of your contacts back! You had the information on that phone backed up and I still went through all that! Dinner was never part of the deal!" Tezuka burst out, horrified on behalf of his wallet. Unfazed, Shibasaki raised her eyebrows and gave him a pointed look.
"Then what about the time I helped you with the last promotional exam? I still haven't gotten payment for that," she reminded him. Tezuka blanched, at a loss. It was no use acting like he didn't remember making that deal; if it wasn't obvious enough now that he did, she'd just insist upon it until he gave up. Besides, Tezuka was a fair person. She really did help him with the promotional exam, so he owed her dinner for that, at least. He hung his head.
"Alright, fine. When were you planning on collecting this payment?" He could sense her victorious smile rather than see it.
"How about Saturday, at five? Neither of us work that day, so we can go then. I'll pick a restaurant and text you."
Since Tezuka had essentially given up, he merely nodded in defeat. Shibasaki turned to walk away, having said her piece, but hesitated for a moment. Tezuka looked up, noticing her pause.
"I'm looking forward to it."
She hadn't turned around, but he could hear the honesty in her voice. He thought again about the cracks in her impermeable armor, considering that maybe he wasn't imagining them after all. He could never be sure.
Of course he had missed her saying "want to take me out sometime", and the flirty tone she'd clearly and purposefully taken when she'd said "or maybe it's fate?" Shibasaki had presumed, or rather known that he wouldn't catch on, but she still felt a little disappointed by just how truly dim Tezuka is.
Bringing up the Media Improvement Committee case had been an excuse to talk to him. She figured he would've heard about it from Tezuka Satoshi, and she knew every bit how inconsequential the news was.
But she couldn't remember the last time she had willingly sought out a man's company with no ulterior motive.
It made her feel vulnerable, which she detested, but it also made her feel genuine. She spent so much of her time being a fabrication of herself and withholding her true feelings from her friends that it was unusual to have a conversation with someone (who wasn't Kasahara) just for the sake of talking. Naturally, the only person who knew about all this was her, so she was fine with just indulging in Tezuka's company. She even thought that maybe dating him would be fun, but she couldn't possibly deal with all the consequences that would arise from such an idea.
So that's what it remained: just an idea. Shibasaki would have her fun, but at the end of the day it was only a concept; a risk she wasn't willing to take. As she made her way back to her room, she already had a list of perfect evasions to explain her absence to Kasahara, almost resolving to tell her the full truth.
She hoped good karma would reward her for her honesty.
A/N: This started out as just conscious streaming, writing and exploring Tezuka's character, and then it turned into a lot more than that (I spelled his name "Tedzuka" for the longest time b'cuz that's how the novel translator spells it, haha). It's really hard to write them, because the two bessatsu novels haven't been translated, save the first few pages of the first bessatsu, so I have no idea what happens between them in those books. I try to be kind of vague, and throw in a bunch of canon stuff to make up for it- like the "boorish" thing and the promotional exam, among others- so when I do find out what happens in those bessatsu novels, my fics will still be (at least somewhat) canon-compliant.
I'm sad doesn't let me use my signature line breaks. The break between Tezuka and Shibasaki talking at the vending machine where it switches briefly to Shibasaki's point of view is supposed to be less jarring, but all I can do is use this big ol' line to separate them. The formatting is much more fun on my ao3: /works/6822913