Hi all! Thanks for reviewing. Summer hasn't been going too hot; I recently had to have surgery on my leg for a really un-epic trip that tore the tendon, so I've been sitting in my basement listening to Mika for several days straight. As a result, I'm feeling pretty high off of optimism and, as awesome as that sounds, I have decided to make this chapter as some comic-relief to, uh, this story. I mean not that it seems boring to me. Others may think differently. Either way, here is a rather short chapter that just sort of sprung to life in my brain while facebook-ing. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 4: Common Sense.

Tezuka loses one of his senses to enhance another.

Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis. I own Dr. Griffin and all of her awesomeness.

About a week passed, and I started college. My appointment went smoothly; I went in, waited in her office for a couple minutes, found out her name was Madeline (who would have known??), watched her play around with my fingers in a very professional manner for a little bit, and then let her escort me to the front doors. Since then, I had no more meet ups with her in the elevators. I had to give Koby to Eiji, because my fat lard of a landlord saw me and told me he was going to evict me if I didn't get rid of Koby. It was almost heartbreaking to see the little guy go, and it stung a little bit when Koby readily let Eiji take him into his arms. I didn't want to let Eiji know how pathetic I was, so I simply just turned and left. Oishi and Fuji met up with me for lunch, where we saw Ryoma and Momo. It was like being back on my own team. It was almost a bittersweet moment.

My mood was brightened when Fuji told me he moved into the apartment just one floor above me. I was beginning to feel the slightest bit lonely, which was an unusual feeling for me. I normally operated very well by myself, but even then I had my family around me. Here I had no one, except beautiful Madeline Griffin who was just WAY too out of my league.

"So I saw a seriously hot girl jogging up the stairs today." I listened half-heartedly to Fuji's romantic expeditions. It wasn't often that he talked about women. The least I could do was stroke his ego. We were walking to the bookstore, which was a good mile away.

"Oh yeah," Oishi mused, "the one in the ridiculously short shorts and tank top?"

"Those shorts shouldn't have even been legal," Fuji laughed at himself.

"She flew by us, too. She was either really wanting a workout or really in a hurry."

We continued walking, Oishi and Fuji talking about girls. I stayed quiet.

"So Tezuka, how do you like university?" Fuji asked, trying to get me back in the conversation.

"It's alright." I said dully.

"Thanks for that detailed description. How did your tennis team tryouts go?"

"They went alright."

"And you made…"

"Number 1."

"Varsity?"

"Uh-huh." I was feeling a little down. I had a headache, and I was thinking about my hot doctor again. I really needed to get a hobby besides tennis.

"What about you, Fuji?" Oishi asked for me.

"3rd, you?"

"5th."

Fuji smiled, giving him the thumbs up sign.

We eventually made it to the bookstore, bought our books, and we back in our building in a matter of a couple hours. Oishi went home, and Fuji and I were in the elevator with several people. I saw the glimpse of light brown hair and I knew we were in the same ride as Madeline Griffin.

"Dude, that's the seriously hot girl!" Fuji exclaimed in a whisper. Her head turned slightly, a grin pulling on her lips. Most of the people got off on level 3, sporting business suits and briefcases. The elevator was now reduced to Fuji, myself, Madeline Griffin and incredibly masculine man carrying what I recognized as a practice pad for drummers. He was absolutely huge; muscles bulging out of every available spot on his body. His shirt was stretched tightly, almost painfully, across his chest. He was talking animatedly to Madeline, with a voice that was unusually high. She looked back to us once, winked, and returned to listen to her…friend? Fuji came over, and we worked on Biology homework for a good two hours, barely making a dent in the ridiculously hard material. When he left, I crashed on the couch, fully dressed.

It was Monday morning, at the frightful 5 AM, when I was sorely woken up by the sound of beating drums through my open door that led to the balcony. I rolled out of bed, face planted on the floor, and stumbled over to the balcony. I looked out to the football field to see the college drum line banging away, sprinting around the field. I watched in awe for a few seconds as they professionally darted around the field, a beautifully exact sound emitting from them.

Wow. I had never seen anything like it. I showered, got dressed, and made my way to the field. My first class was at 7, anyway. Campus was pretty busy for it being only a little after 5AM. Several kids were studying, reading, or playing card games. The drum line had stopped playing and was playing individually with their friends or dueling. I saw Madeline in the grass not too far where I was standing, letting the rising sun wash over her sweaty body. She was breathing heavily, rubbing her face with a wet cloth. I recognized a set of marching tenor drums sitting in the grass beside her.

I suddenly felt a throbbing pain in my temple. I clutched my head in pain, turning to where the pain had come from. Two blurry figures were holding a baseball bat, standing still with wide eyes. My glasses were cracked and lying on the ground in the dirt.

"Dude, are you okay?" One of the figures was running toward me, sounding concerned.

"Don't worry about it," I said, sitting down on a bench conveniently located a few steps behind me.

"Sorry, man," he slapped me on the shoulder, returning to his friend.

"You must attract injuries," I recognized the sweet voice instantly. Madeline Griffin sat down next to me, picking up my glasses. "Your glasses are trashed."

I looked over to her. From what I could tell, she wasn't smiling. This didn't surprise me.

My vision wasn't good. In fact, without my glasses, I was virtually blind. Everything was just a jumble of color. I reached out for my glasses, but struck something soft and fleshy. Oh please, tell me that wasn't her chest.

"Movin' a little fast there, eh buddy?" she said, humor in her voice. She grabbed my hand, guiding it to my shattered glasses.

I felt my face heating up against my will. "Sorry."

"No worries. I know what it's like to be nearly blind," she said, ironically pushing up her own glasses with her finger. "Do you have an extra pair at home?" I could almost hear it in her voice transforming from student to doctor mode.

"No."

"Are you serious?" she questioned incredulously. "You're saying you've never broken your glasses before, even though you play a sport where people TRY to hit you in the face?"

"How did you know I played tennis?" She'd never seen me play, unless she watched the tryouts, which were pretty boring.

"Please, I'm a doctor. I know which sports work with which muscles. And one of my ex boyfriends was a tennis player."

I didn't really know what to say to that. "So, uh, where can I get them fixed?"

"There's an optometry department on the first floor of the hospital. I can get 'em fixed there."

"Shouldn't I go? I have to tell them my prescription and pay."

"You're in no shape to go anywhere by yourself. And have I mentioned I'm a doctor? I get all medical related things at discounts."

"Wow, thanks."

"I didn't say you're completely off the hook. I expect a week's worth of coffee delivered to my office every day before 10AM."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Deal," I muttered. What was I going to do? I had class in an hour and a half, broken glasses, and a rip-roaring headache. Her small hand was still wrapped around mine; the broken glasses weaved between our fingers. I was really wishing I could see her face right about now.

"Well I should run," she said, dropping my hand. "You, uh…you should come to the office and wait for your new specs. It's not too far of a walk."

She literally pulled me to her office. Her hands were soft on mine, pulling me along. This got me thinking about how soft her skin was in general. She had touched my hands several times, and each time the feeling kept getting better. I wanted to feel the rest of her just to see if it was as soft as her hands.

What the heck!? I tore my hand out of hers, disgusted with myself.

"Dude, what's your problem?" she asked, irritated. "I have to get to work in 10 minutes and you're walking slower than my grandma, and she can't walk at all."

I let my hand find its way back in hers, following her like a dog. I forced myself to think about tennis to keep my mind off of her. What was wrong with me? I never had a problem keeping my thoughts in check. There was something about her I just couldn't stay away from. So I learned two things today. 1, that when she was in doctor mode, there was no messing around. And 2, that Oishi was right; I really liked this girl, and I knew that there was absolutely no chance with her.

I was in for a long day.