Tezuka let his eyes wander across the note he had gotten from his shoe locker that morning in his homeroom class. In the same neat hand writing, another disconnected message was written. Tezuka's eyebrows knitted together, Is this supposed to mean something? Inui, being the nosy person—scratch that—data master he was, conveniently sharing the same home room as the aforementioned brunette, leaned forward in his chair and read aloud over Tezuka's shoulder,
"—I think of you each morning
And dream of you each night.
I think of your arms around me
And cannot express my delight—
Ah, and that's it? How odd. Ne, Tezuka, what is this?"
Inui flicked his gaze to Tezuka's dumbfounded face and gave a chuckle, explaining his own views, "I figured it was a love letter, but it seems more of a poem than anything else."
Tezuka raised his eyebrows at Inui for a few seconds, "Poem?" His voice held slight uncertainty, until something in his mind visibly clicked. He reached in his bag, and fumbled for the first letter—taking it out and unfolding it, he read the two side by side.
"The whole thing—it's a love poem. How clever," Inui released a smile. "Who is it from?" This is good data…
"I don't know," Tezuka sighed, gaze fixed on where a name should be signed on one of the letters. After a pause, he questioned, "Do you recognize the hand writing, Inui?"
Inui gave a thoughtful hum before speaking, "Looks like the font on my computer—with slight imperfections, of course. Whoever wrote this is skilled in calligraphy; that much is certain." Tezuka nodded in agreement with the data master's statement.
Shortly after, the bell rang for the class to begin and Tezuka slipped the letters into his book bag—under Inui's careful scrutiny. Tezuka has a secret admirer… This will make for some really good data. I should speak with the rest of the team about this; they are bound to know something.
After school, a crowd that consisted of Tezuka, Inui, Oishi, Momo and Fuji resided in the locker room getting dressed out for practice.
"Oi, buchou. What of that letter you got?" Momoshiro gave a sly smile at his buchou, whom he had startled.
"Yes, Tezuka, why don't you tell us about that note?" Inui gave a seemingly innocent—though mischievous—grin that matched Momo's own. Tezuka flicked his gaze from the data-master to the tall second year before tending to his school bag and clothes.
"Speaking of, what is that sticking out of your book bag? Is that another love letter, Tezuka?" Inui smirked. This caught Momoshiro's interest, and the tall lad lunged forward to grab the letter. Tezuka swiftly snatched his book bag from its resting place on the bench and tossed it into his locker with ease.
"Aw, buchou! You're not fun, not fun at all," Momo pouted.
Tezuka gave a reprimanding glare, "Momoshiro..."
Momo gave a huff and defended himself, "I want to know who your admirer is!"
A sigh rushed from Tezuka's lips. "I am not aware of the sender, either."
"Ehh, then you better watch out," Momo warned, in a good natured tone, "I bet you'll find out soon—Valentine's Day isn't that far away." Inui nodded slowly, taking notes on what the second year had said. There is a forty-five percent chance that this admirer will reveal who they are on Valentine's Day, with the information I have now.
Oishi looked over at Fuji, who had noticeably paled after the second year made his remarks. The slender third year's dexterous fingers lingered on his jacket fob, frozen halfway through zipping up his regular's uniform in his nervousness.
"Hey, Fuji," Oishi started, as the tensai looked up in question under the mother hen's gaze, "do you mind playing a warm up game before we start practice?" Giving a gracious nod, Fuji shut his locker with a soft click whilst grabbing his tennis racquet and followed Oishi out of the locker room to the tennis courts.
Inui stared at the two pensively as they departed the club room. There is an eighty percent chance that there is something going on between those two…
"Kawamura-san," bespectacled green eyes flickered over to the boy in question, "Kikumaru is out at the moment, right?"
Kawamura looked up and gave a sheepish smile, "Yes, he went to the pro shop to get the club some more supplies."
"As I thought…" Inui pondered over this for a while, before following the fukubuchou and tensai out into the sun and courts.
"Mou, why do we always have to go with the sempais to get all the supplies?" Horio whined in his whiny little voice of whininess.
Katsuo frowned, "Horio, weren't you the one who begged Eiji-sempai to let us go with him?"
"Hahh?" Horio blinked a few times and looked around at his friends, both of whom were smirking.
"You just don't like that you have to do work—at practice or running errands, huh, Horio?" Kachirou teased. Horio pouted and opened his whiner to protest.
Eiji smiled and glanced over his shoulder, "Come along, now," he teased, "I don't think his face could get anymore red." Stepping through the threshold of the store, Eiji began listing things for the band of freshman to find, "Grip tape, exercise ladders, Dunlop Vibrotech, nylon strings, and sweat bands…" His voice trailed off as he heard a familiar calculating voice sounding in response to another questioning one.
"Gah! Katsuo, look, it's—" Kachirou exclaimed, and then thought better of it, trying not to be noticed by the curly haired ace on the other side of the room, talking with a taller man in a yellow jacket.
Well, aside from the extremely late update, all is well, yeah? XD
supremekikay24: You're welcome, then, hahahh. (:
SayuHide: I hope it continues to be interesting enough for you as I go on. :D
mcangel1976: Yes... Inui could be quite dangerous... Maybe not him, then. Or maybe it is? ;D