I'm sorry the updates will become slower now that school has started. But I hope I still get to have more time to write. As for Magical Buchou, I apologize again for having no muse at all to continue... I resolute myself not to abandon it, but right now I don't think I'm in the mood to continue it either... I'm very very sorry... .; I hope muse will come to me soon.

Title: A Song for You, So You Can Dance
Rating: PG-13.
Pairing: Perfect pair, Golden pair
Summary: AU! 'Green Tea' and 'Wasabi' met on an online tennis forum, and became friends ever since. Now, Rock Star!Tezuka meets Street Dancer!Fuji and secrets gradually unfold.

Disclaimer: Part of the plot is given to me by lovefujitez, over at Lj. This is her belated birthday present.

A/N: The love starts here folks! XD

~ A Song for You, So You Can Dance ~
Chapter four: Dakishimete Shimai Sou Sa [Part 1]

The morning started fairly well. Fuji slept peacefully, the soft bed cushioning his body comfortably, the curtains drawn and the comforter keeping his body pleasantly warm. Oh, and the birds were probably singing outside, for today was his day off. That meant he had no dancing practice, no overeager fans touching him all over, no Saeki to deal with and best of all, no physical workout. He could laze around all day, care for his cacti, and probably walk around the city with his handy camera hanging around his neck. With his eyes semi-closed from drowsiness, Fuji thought, as he lazily stretched his limbs, that the day couldn't get better.

Except that it could get worse. It didn't take long for his genius mind to register that, no, the room was not his own and that no, he had no idea where he was, how he ended up here and what in the world had happened. So perhaps the only thing that could worsen this new discovery was if his clothes were missing, which they weren't. At least his undergarments and his top weren't, which were the essentials. Fuji even double-checked just to make sure. Then again, as he stared at what he was wearing, they weren't his own either. The plain, oversized t-shirt could definitely not belong to him.

Fuji sat up on the large bed, scanning the room as his mind tried to process what had happened last night. The room he was in was plain. Only a large bookshelf filled with thick and boring-looking books, a night stand and a table decorated the chamber. There were no plants on the window like he had in his own bedroom, no photos framed on the walls, nothing personified. Fuji's genius mind had not a clue as to where he supposedly could be and that frightened him ever so slightly.

He decided that it wasn't time to laze around anymore. He reluctantly left the warmth of the bed, put on a pair of slippers and walked outside the room. Before him was a small hallway that lead to other rooms which Fuji ignored. A little to his left, a set of stairs would lead him to the living room on the first floor. A very pleasant smell of bacon and eggs filled his nose as the street dancer walked towards the kitchen next to the living room. There, a tall man with tousled chocolate-brown hair was cooking, his back facing him. Curious, and slightly disoriented, Fuji cleared his throat hoping to catch the other's attention.

The smaller man's eyes widened considerably as the other turned around at the sound of his voice. Fuji couldn't believe his eyes. Before him stood Tezuka Kunimitsu, his favorite singer, wearing a green apron while frying eggs! Fuji was torn between wanting to gasp out of sheer shock or laugh at the incredibly image-ruining sight. Finally, the street dancer only managed to choke out the other's name, followed by a chuckle which he tried hard to conceal.

"I see you are awake," Tezuka said, ignoring Fuji's small laughter. He sighed and went back to cooking his eggs when all the other did was trying to muffle his snickers behind his hand.

"Sorry, sorry," the smaller man apologized when he finally managed to control himself. "It's just that I never thought you would… well, look like this in the morning. Don't you have a girlfriend?" Tezuka grunted in disapproval. It was then Fuji remembered the happenings from the night before. He was working at the bar when he randomly dragged his favorite singer to dance with him. Then Tezuka texted someone whom he thought was his girlfriend —but now knows that's not— and when Atobe called for them at the end of the night, he collapsed out of exhaustion… He had caught Atobe's eye, Fuji just realized, and Tezuka did too. And they would be working together from then on to shoot a commercial for—

"Condoms?" Fuji cried indignantly.

The eggs Tezuka flipped landed on the floor. The latter abruptly turned the face Fuji and glared. "I see you have a good memory," the famous singer said, almost reproachfully, as he bent down to clean the mess he made.

Fuji sighed exasperatedly. "Of all the things! Atobe just had to notice our physiques instead of our talent in music!"

Tezuka sighed as well, silently agreeing to Fuji's words. "We don't really have a choice on the matter. Atobe is very strict when it comes to discipline. We can either refuse and lose our reputation for going against the biggest music industry in Japan, or we could go along the plan and bear with all the nonsense."

"Atobe could have gotten himself a girl to do this! Why two men?" But Fuji knew exactly the reason to his own inquiry. His body was small and willowy and he had a face prettier than the finest of female models. He also had small, feminine hips and a flexible body thanks to his career as a dancer. All of those would compliment well with Tezuka's larger and muscular structure, the contrast between their bodies making them both stand out. Fuji had to admit they were probably the two best candidates when it came to the shape of their bodies as they completely complimented each other. The only problem was that he had a flat chest and an external organ which girls did not have.

Tezuka stayed silent, contenting himself with cracking two other eggs in the pan. The sizzling sound it made as it came in contact with the hot surface filled the room. The both of them were too incredulous to say anything to fill in. When breakfast was ready, Fuji silently helped Tezuka prepare the table and they both gladly dug in. Fuji found himself stealing glances at the stoic singer, marveling at how he ended up in his apartment. He looked around as well, curious about the lack of furniture in the too large abode. There was a glass table for tea between the single couch and the television in the living room. Everything was orderly. The kitchen was only adorned with basic supplies while the walls were plain and void of decoration. This was exactly how he pictured Tezuka's house to be, Fuji thought as he smiled to himself.

"Ne," the dancer started, making Tezuka look up at him. "Why did you bring me here?"

"You collapsed out of exhaustion yesterday and my house was closest," was the other's short and concise answer. "I had a car and I live by myself."

"Hmm… all about practicality, aren't we?" Fuji teased. "What happened to my clothes?"

The other did not blush nor turn away as Fuji thought he would. Tezuka simply stared at him in the eyes and said that he had changed him out of his clothes because he was sweaty after all the dancing and surely would be uncomfortable sleeping in them. He had washed them and they were currently drying. The singer said it with so much confidence that it amused Fuji to no end, as if it were simply logical to have done so. Fuji finished his plate before asking, "Do you have anything to spare while they are drying then? I can't wear only your shirt all day."

This caught the other off guard. Tezuka blinked, mentally rummaging his closet. "I believe I have a pair of sweatpants I could lend you…" he trailed off.

Fuji laughed delightfully. "But you are seriously wondering if I'll be able to wear them without them falling off every step I take," he finished.

Silence was the other's answer. It confirmed Fuji's suspicions. His laughter filled the room again, this time much merrier than the last. "It's okay, I guess I'll just have to wait until my clothes dry off. I'll wear your shirt and hope I don't catch a cold in the meanwhile," he grinned. "Ne, let's clean up. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Ah," Tezuka grunted, gathering their plates. "Go take a shower, I'll wash the dishes," he commanded.

Fuji nodded gratefully. "I'll be using the bathroom then," he declared, ascending the stairs. To his disappointment, even though he did foresee it coming, Tezuka only nodded noncommittally, not noticing in the least the sly edge to Fuji's comment. The street dancer sighed and smiled to himself as he entered the bright bathroom, locking the door behind him. He turned the water on and took off the only two piece of clothing he was wearing –Tezuka's oversized shirt and his underwear—and stepped inside the warm shower, mentally wondering what they were going to do the whole day.

He was silently drying himself when Tezuka knocked on the door. "Your clothes are ready," the taller man said, "I'll leave them on the floor so you can change into them." Fuji smiled and thanked him from the other side of the door. He used the spare toothbrush Tezuka had prepared for him –how thoughtful, Fuji marveled—to brush his teeth before wrapping himself in a towel and reaching outside for his clothes. He quickly changed into his simple white sweater and loose black pants then headed for the kitchen once again. There, he found Tezuka sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of tea and reading a newspaper with a serious frown. Another steaming cup was set next to his, one that wasn't touched and Fuji knew that it was for him. He gladly sat himself next to his favorite singer and leaned over, attempting to read the morning paper from above his shoulder.

"Hmm… I knew you were someone traditionally old-fashioned, but not to this extent," the blue-eyed man commented. The other only grunted noncommittally, which made him chuckle. "Ne, what are we going to do today?" he tried again.

"We?" Tezuka asked, directing a brief glance at Fuji.

"I thought I'd treat you to dinner to thank you for your hospitality. You even prepared a toothbrush for me. If anyone came over, they'd think you got yourself a girlfriend."

"It's only proper to take care of guests," Tezuka humbly declared, ignoring the last part of Fuji's comment.

"Hmm… and it's only normal for the guest to properly thank his host for being so hospitable," Fuji retorted, sipping the last of his drink. "So, do you like any kinds of food in particular? Though you told the media that your favorite is unacha, I thought I'd try being more creative," he grinned.

The other resigned himself. He put down and folded the newspaper, somehow feeling that the other wouldn't be leaving him to read in peace unless he answered his questions. "I like Japanese food," he told Fuji, turning his undivided attention to him.

"And the sky is blue," the street dancer answered sarcastically. "What kinds of Japanese food?" he pushed, pouting slightly at the taller man.

"Anything home-made," Tezuka sighed.

"Are you trying to get me to invite you over to dinner?" Fuji teased, feigning shock. "But I'm not your wife! You must ask for my hand first!" he dramatized.

"Fuji-san…," glared Tezuka, which made the other chuckle.

"Fine, fine, I'll stop," he put his hands up defensively. "But we just ate breakfast and it's still early. Do you want to go somewhere before eating my cooking?"

"I don't intend to have you cook—"

"How about going to the shopping center?" Fuji interjected quickly. "I still haven't bought your latest single and it's been a few weeks since it came out. If I don't hurry, winter will be over and listening to White Message will feel out of season."

Tezuka stared at Fuji, incredulous. "Do I have a choice?"

The street dancer smirked as he walked upstairs to gather his things, leaving a very tired and very surprised singer behind. He packed his bags and checked his cell phone, which was running out of battery. He suddenly remembered as he flipped it open that he had received a new message from 'Green Tea' last night and hadn't replied to it. He quickly checked his inbox, hoping he'd be able to reply to it before it died on him.

'I learned from the best tonight' the other had written, referring to his dancing skills. Fuji frowned slightly; he tilted his head on the side as he wondered what the hidden meaning behind the message was. Was 'Green Tea' taken already? Had he spent the night dancing away with his girlfriend? Challenged and determined to find out, Fuji typed a reply and shut off his phone so he'd not waste anymore battery.

'Sounds interesting. You should ask her to teach me too, someday.'

Then he quickly descended the stairs to join Tezuka, still sitting on his couch, waiting. "Sorry for taking so long!" Fuji called with a smile as the other stood up, and together they left the singer's apartment condo to head to the shopping center.

On the kitchen counter, a cell phone rang.

A cold January wind was hauling outside, which made Fuji bury his face deeper still in his scarf. He unconsciously scooted closer to the taller man walking beside him in search of extra warmth. He exhaled, smiling as his breath turned into a small cloud of condensation before him. It was too bad that it wasn't snowing, or he might have been walking under an umbrella with his favorite singer…

"Fuji, you'll be pushing me onto the road if you continue walking askew like this."

It was then he realized Tezuka had been shuffling away from him every time he tried to approach him. Feeling slightly dejected, Fuji walked back to the center of the sidewalk followed by Tezuka. "Sorry," he muttered. "How long still before we arrive?"

"Not long."

"What if I freeze before we arrive?" Fuji pushed.

"You won't as long as your body is moving," Tezuka answered simply.

"Or if we share body warmth," the other retorted cunningly.

The singer sighed. "It will be bad if we are found by the media like this," he reasoned.

"That means you aren't particularly repelled by the thought of snuggling with me if the media was not involved?" the dancer teased mercilessly. "I'm flattered!"

Tezuka glared at him as they crossed the last road that would lead them to the shopping center, trying to blend as much as he could inside the crowd so no hormonal fangirl would recognize them for the celebrities they were. He pulled his coat's hood on and did the same for his smaller acquaintance. If they were found out then they'd be having a hard time running away from their fans. And they'd have to explain a whole lot to the paparazzi about their upcoming job together… he felt a menacing headache coming his way.

Luck, however, was on their side. They made it inside the packed shopping mall without anyone so much as glancing at them, every single one of them being too busy with feasting their eyes over all the items that were on sale. Fuji pushed easily past the crowd, nimble body swaying across the smallest of gaps between people to get to his destination: the music store. Tezuka had a harder time following Fuji, sometimes using his glare (made even scarier thanks to his hood which hid parts of his face) to get the crowd to disperse. When they finally both made it to the store, Fuji grinned at him like a mission accomplished, grabbed his hand and proceeded to literally drag him to the CD selection. They scanned, hand in hand Tezuka noticed, the wide selection of music and without much challenge found the almost sold-out single that he had released not so long ago. Fuji gleefully picked it up, releasing Tezuka's hand and beaming at him with all his might. "Finally! I've been wanting to get it since forever!"

"Thank you," Tezuka told him earnestly, hoping his cheeks wouldn't color. "I'm flattered." No human being in their right minds would be able to resist such a sincere smile Fuji had thrown at him.

Fuji nodded, proceeding to the cashier to pay for his purchase. Tezuka followed him silently.

When they were once again standing amidst the crowd in front of the music store, Tezuka slid his hand in Fuji's again and lead him to another shop. The latter jerked in surprise, blue eyes snapping open at their intertwined hands. "Tezu—" he began, but was once again silenced by Tezuka's other hand descending upon his lips.

"Shhh… not so loud. People are staring," the rock star warned.

The street dancer nodded and Tezuka removed his fingers from the other's lips. Clearing his throat, Tezuka dragged Fuji away, acting as nonchalant as he could under the crowd's suspicious glances. They were picking out neckties for Tezuka's father when Fuji noticed they were still holding hands. He quickly removed his from the taller man's, smile disappearing for a second. Tezuka was startled by the sudden movement. He stared at Fuji.

"What?" he demanded.

Fuji hesitated. "You… were holding my hand."

Tezuka said nothing, only stared at Fuji as if asking him what the problem was. Fuji stumbled with his words, uncomfortable. "Well… you see…"

"You were holding mine earlier. I thought that it was what you wanted."

Fuji stared at him, dumbfounded, blushing. "I was?" he asked incredulously.

"You were. Now stop being indecisive," Tezuka reprimanded, grabbing the other's hand again. "I've chosen this one for my father, what do you think?"

"Ah, hum…" Fuji shifted his gaze, his world temporarily thrown out of balance. "I've never seen your father, but the tie looks nice."

Tezuka nodded, paid for his purchase and dragged Fuji to the next store. They were waiting for the former's order of a dozen of red roses for his mother when Fuji caught sight of a blossoming cactus with the finest white flowers. He was wondering if he should spoil himself when Tezuka pointed to that precise cactus and asked for the florist to add the green plant to his purchases. Although Fuji was surprised Tezuka had been staring at him, he was nonetheless flattered by such an act of friendship. He glanced at the taller man he had known for barely over a day and smiled sincerely. Tezuka only nodded, accessing his gratitude humbly and gently squeezing his hand. Fuji's heart fluttered, but he dismissed it completely. The weight of his cell phone in his pocket reminded him of 'Green Tea' and suddenly he wondered when the other would reply to his last message.

They went shopping for food next; Tezuka was telling Fuji what he wanted to eat while Fuji was pointing out the ingredients they needed for that night's feast. Tezuka sighed as they were finally done with the groceries for he was born as an only child and he had never had much experience in the domain. Their hands were full with shopping bags by the time they were outside the mall. They were just about to head home when a high pitched squeal resounded across the road.

"It's Tezuka Kunimitsu and Fuji Syuusuke! Kyaaaa!"

That was the last thing they heard before dashing into the winter cold, running as fast as they could so that the horde of fans that followed them would hopefully give up. "This way!" Tezuka said, grabbing Fuji by the hand and leading him in a small alleyway. They ran to the other side then continued straight until they reached the backdoor of Tezuka's apartment complex. Fumbling with his keys, Tezuka finally managed to open the door and by the time they were inside the elevator, alone, their panting was all they could hear. Fuji chuckled, his hair disheveled by their rapid escape while Tezuka coughed down the laughter that threatened to come out. As they made their way to Tezuka's apartment, Fuji was still trying to suppress his laughter. "That was… excruciatingly thrilling!" the street dancer exclaimed between breaths. Tezuka nodded his approval.

"Well, I guess I'll get started on dinner," Fuji said, sending a breathtaking smile at Tezuka. "You go take a shower; it will be ready when you are done."

"Ah, thank you."

"You're welcome, beloved husband," Fuji answered playfully.

Tezuka's steps faltered. He whirled around and glared at the petite man. "This was your idea, need I remind you?"

"But you said you wanted to eat my cooking!" Fuji argued, smirking.

"I never said such things."

"You can argue all you want, but you can't deny the fact that you actually want to eat my cooking," the street dancer said, with a hint of irony.

Tezuka sighed, ignoring the other as he picked up his cell phone from the kitchen counter and made his way to the bathroom. Anything that he would say would only add fuel to the fire so he decided not to grace that last comment with a reply. One thing was true though, he was tired of ordering take-out. Tezuka flipped his cell phone open and saw that he had one new message in his inbox.

When the bathroom door clicked shut, Fuji allowed a small chuckle to leave his lips. He tied the green apron around his waist and contemplated Tezuka's kitchen. Now, should he cook like the genius he is or should he torture his favorite singer a little? Maybe if he searched hard enough, he'd find some wasabi somewhere…

A muffled buzzing sound came from the closet, where Fuji's winter coat was hanging.

~oO~Oo~oO~Oo~

The smell of delicious miso soup and something sweeter immediately immersed Tezuka's senses when he exited the bathroom, a good half an hour later. He inhaled deeply, savoring the succulent fragrance. Fuji had sounded like he was confident with his cooking skills, but Tezuka wasn't expecting anything exquisite. As he walked down the stairs to his kitchen, where the smell was even stronger, Tezuka knew he was going to eat the best dinner he's had for a while.

The kitchen and living room were dimly lit on deliberate so that the candles (which he did not know he owned) would stand out in the darkness. Outside, the first twinkling stars were appearing, illuminating the marine winter sky. He'd think that Fuji set the table with the candles and the tablecloth on purpose to make the atmosphere romantic had he not known better.

The food placed on the table was exquisite, as he'd expected. The meals were proportionally set, everything well cooked and placed fashionably on the plates. It would be a lie to say that Tezuka' wasn't impressed. Fuji exited the kitchen still wearing the green apron, a mischievous smile stretched on his face as he stared at Tezuka's staring at the dinner he prepared. "Well, does it suit your taste?" he asked with fake innocence.

Tezuka nodded.

Fuji grinned. "That's a relief! After all, the easiest way to a man's heart is by his stomach!"

Tezuka's eyebrows twitched. "What?"

"Well, perfect Tezuka Kunimitsu would never marry someone incapable of cooking, right?" Fuji reasoned.

"We are not married," Tezuka deadpanned, blushing.

Fuji burst into chuckles. He doubled over, clutching at his stomach as his favorite singer's face turned a shade deeper. Annoyed, Tezuka sat stubbornly at one side of the table, staring outside the large windows into the night sky. After a while, Fuji calmed down and settled in front of him, contemplating the sky as well. His smile, which had been cunning for the whole day suddenly turned sincere and slightly wistful. The apartment lapsed into a comfortable silence as each of them were lost in thought.

Fuji was the first one to break the spell. "Let's eat, Tezuka. It will turn cold if you don't dig in soon."

Nodding, Tezuka brought the miso soup to his lips, drinking generously from it. Fuji stared at him, waiting for his reaction eagerly. As if on cue, Tezuka coughed, tongue burning, as he quickly drank from the glass of water Fuji had prepared for him. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes as Fuji tried once more to suppress his laughter. A few minutes later, the burning in his throat seemed to dim and Tezuka managed to choke out a few words. "What in the world…"

"Ah, I forgot to tell you. You're sitting on my side of the table. You see, I like to put an insane amount of wasabi in my miso soup—"

Tezuka glared at him darkly, as if saying "You should have told me earlier!"

Fuji grinned as he switched their plates around. "Here, this one was for you. It's normal miso, without anything added to it."

Tezuka sighed. Fuji Syuusuke definitely spiced his life up, literally.

~oO~Oo~oO~Oo~

By the time they were done with their food, cleaning the table and doing the dishes, the apple pie that Fuji had baked was still cooling on the oven racks. They decided that they'd wait it out while drinking tea. Fuji however, was getting more listless by the second. He was bored and somehow, every time he tried thinking he'd always end up reflecting on the commercial he'd have to shoot with Tezuka on condoms. It wasn't a pleasant thought. He needed distraction, and he needed it, fast. Staring around, he saw an acoustic guitar placed inconspicuously in a corner of the living room. Oh! Why hadn't he thought of it earlier? Now that he was an acquaintance of Tezuka Kunimitsu, why not ask him to sing live for him? Fans would pay a fortune just to see him in a concert (and that included himself, Fuji thought bitterly). This was the perfect chance to taste a piece of heaven. Surely no one else was allowed to listen to Tezuka sing from this close. This might be his only chance and Fuji was ready to grasp it with both hands.

"Tezuka?" he asked as innocently as he could.

"Mm?" the other replied, as if deep in thought. Good, this was his chance.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" Fuji asked again.

"Ah," the taller man replied noncommittally.

"Do you like singing?" Fuji persisted.

"Ah," was the reply.

"Do you own a guitar?"

"Ah."

Fuji inhaled deeply. "Would you sing something for me then?"

"Ah—"

"Yes!" Fuji grinned, triumphant. He leaped from the sofa and went to pick up the guitar. Now, if only he had a recorder he'd be able to enjoy this everyday… what a shame. He handed the guitar to Tezuka with a grin on his face. This was heaven. He was such a lucky man to be able to hear Tezuka's singing voice to himself.

"You could have just asked me," Tezuka deadpanned, out of his trance. He accepted the guitar.

"Mhm, but I like a little bit of challenge with everything," Fuji replied. "What will you sing?" he asked, readying himself for what could be the best night of his life.

"You can choose," Tezuka offered.

Fuji stared at him, as if assessing the fact that he could ask for anything. Tezuka nodded. The street dancer smiled. Anything he wanted? Now that sounded fun. He's heard Tezuka's every song already, attended his concerts as well. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Fuji thought he couldn't ask for something too ordinary…

"I'd like to hear you sing a song that's never been written," he finally said, smiling.

Tezuka looked puzzled so Fuji explained. "Sing anything that comes up to your mind. I want something unique, not something that I can listen to every day. Something that you make up in the spur of the moment."

Tezuka blinked. "Is this a challenge?"

Fuji nodded.

Tezuka sighed as he thought hard. He strummed a few cords on the guitar, trying to make up a melody out of it. Fuji was staring at him so intensely he had a hard time concentrating. Somehow, he didn't want to disappoint the other so he let himself sway with the music, hoping something would come to him. After a while, a melody started to form and as he stared at Fuji's deep, deep cerulean orbs, words which were foreign to him were struggling their way out of his lips. He cleared his throat and started.

"This is my song for you,
The melody which I want to reach you…"

Fuji chuckled, but Tezuka ignored him and continued, awkwardly.

"Staying like that, you don't make any sorts of important changes to your life style,
Days of regret and reflection therefore suit you,

If tomorrow comes, I can surely change then,
There's no uneasiness,
Things are alright now…"

Tezuka stopped there, abruptly. He bit his tongue just in time so that the rest of the lyrics he thought of in a spur of the moment would not spill. The apartment was suddenly filled with a chilly silence. Tezuka awkwardly let his guitar go. This wasn't right. This couldn't be right. Those words, they weren't what he'd thought of. It just couldn't be. Fuji stared at him as he struggled with his thoughts. No, he couldn't, he'd never be able to pronounce those compromising words…

"What's wrong?"Fuji suddenly asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can continue anymore," he told Fuji seriously.

He knew the street dancer wanted to press further, but refrained himself from doing so. "I see…" Fuji said dejectedly. The petite man looked at the clock which indicated 8:00 pm. He stood up and gathered his stuff, including the cactus the singer had bought for him. Tezuka followed suit, feeling confused and slightly guilty. "I'll be taking my leave then," Fuji declared, his smile looked forced.

"I'm sorry," Tezuka tried again.

"It's okay," Fuji reassured him as he slipped his coat on. "The pie should be ready. I'll see you tomorrow at Atobe's."

"Ah… be careful on your way, Fuji-san."

"Just Fuji is fine," the street dancer grinned.

"Fuji," Tezuka agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow. I've had a good time," he choked out uneasily.

Fuji smiled at that. "Me too."

Tezuka walked him out the apartment complex and then returned to his room, leaning on his door. He was a logical person, but none of what happened that day had been logical to him. What in the world was wrong with him, he wondered, as he whispered to himself the lyrics of the song he hadn't managed to finish.

It seems I have no choice but to hold you,
Because you are smiling in that sort of way…

~To be Continued~

A/N: Reviews are very very welcome. Craved for, even. :)