TITLE: Who Says College is Easy?

PART: Side Story 2

PAIRING: Atobe Keigo/Tezuka Kunimitsu

GENRE: Shounen-ai (Humour/ Continuation/ Angst / Romance)

DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to does not belong to me… only this weird story does.

NOTES: Blah or Blah is for emphasis. /Blah/ is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). /Blah/ is for the conscience, or whatever inner voice there is, talking. Blah is for thoughts or random Japanese words. Some of these words are footnoted at the end of every page (I'm beginning to understand the need for footnotes in fiction. Thank you dear friend, you know who you are. ).

Side Story 2 (part 3): Deep Ocean Eyes

"ImsorryImsorryImsorry!"

Atobe finally woke up after I decked him (unconsciously though... I would have had greater satisfaction if I actually knew I was doing it(1)) the third time. He was disoriented then... but now he was fully conscious, and very much apologetic. If I were in a different situation, I would have laughed at the look on his face the moment he realised what it was he was holding on to. But I didn't...

Because it was painful.

"I said it was fine." I grated out, narrowing a look at who was obviously one of Atobe's hordes of fan girls approaching us. There was a satisfying feeling that coursed within me as she paled and scurried away faster than one can say "Git!"

"But..."

I glared at him, but then my eyes softened slightly at the unsure expression on his face... one that I had the misfortune of seeing – misfortune since it was hard on him being like that, for he was a child of plenty, one that didn't have to go through begging to have what he wanted, one that did not answer to anyone.

But he answered to me – all the time.

Once again, I asked myself... was this the Atobe I knew?

The answer was still no.

This was not the same Atobe that had captured my attention back in junior high. This was a new Atobe, one that had the capacity to actually care for people around him, one that was sensitive... one that had a heart. /Maybe you're just misreading him... (2)/A wayward thought entered my brain, but I dismissed it.

No, this was not the Atobe I knew. This was not the Atobe who aimed to break me in so many ways that I had lost count. This was not the villainous Atobe I knew who did not show mercy and practically looked down at everyone...

But what about his vanity? What of that? Was that not what he was even then?

Confusion... that was what I was currently feeling. Why was I confused? Because even after all this time... even after all the time we had been together, I still hadn't figured him out.

Now, even as I listened to his repeated pleas for mercy, a question repeated itself inside my mind.

Who exactly was Atobe Keigo?

oooOooo

Apparently, Kaidoh's brand of discipline did not work, for Haru was still absent in Advanced Calculus class the next day. Really now, maybe I should try to convince Kaidoh to listen to Momoshiro's insistence that abstaining from doing 'it' would be an effective way to start, considering that Haru had been monogamous all this time.

And apparently my professor just loved him so much that the threat to flunk him was not administered. Lucky him... and unlucky me, since I was the one acting like a gofer between them.

It was tiring trying to cope with a demanding course and a much demanding science and research partner. And my energy was depleting greatly. I needed a rest... and somehow, it was not granted to me. Because here I was, in an ungodly hour of five in the morning (I did not have the chance to give it to him after the Atobe episode last night, but I wouldn't admit it was my fault now, would I?), trudging up the staircase to Sadaharu's room. And the knowledge that I broke my vow of never returning to this place is eating me. I thought absently, making my way slowly up. I just love this guy too much... not.

There was something I did not need as of the moment that Haru was capable of doing, so I hesitated for a long, long time before deciding to just smash the book onto his face the moment he opened the door... the Hiyoshi Episode.

Apparently, his and Hiyoshi-kun's parents decided to marry, and they were thrown together for quite along while now. Needless to say – things inside the nest seem too exciting for my tastes. Like the when Haru was trying to make Hiyoshi-kun drink another of his concoctions, and the poor boy was running away, screaming for someone to save him. Of course he had to go to the elevator, and that was his mistake. When the metal doors opened, he was caught by the devil himself – Akutsu Jin. And Akutsu, being Akutsu – did absolutely nothing.

And of course, me laughing my brains out didn't help in his quest for freedom. Ah, I'm such a cruel, cruel man.

Sighing, I stopped before Sadaharu's door, trying to gauge whether or not the war still raged on. However, hearing nothing unusual (Which was a rarity in the pseudo-household), I decided to knock before I get stuck on the floor. All the air-conditioning was literally freezing me. I had no idea why there were no heaters in the corridors when it was virtually late autumn already.

A harassed looking Haru opened the door. He was pale, and seemingly unkempt. Honestly though, I did not have any idea when he last took a bath, not that he stank or anything, it was because he seemed, well... mousy for someone with his personality. Other than that... he wasn't wearing any glasses. Never mind the smashing the notebook on his face part... he looks dazed enough as it is...

"Kunimitsu." He started, politely stepping back to let me in. I was sorely tempted to enter, but something in his tired gaze prompted me to hold back. So instead of stepping forward, I handed him his book.

At his questioning look, I nodded. "Rest for a while." I said, my buchou side taking over as I gave him another subtle inspection. He honestly looked like he was on the verge of breaking down, but knowing him; he would probably be the cause of the breakdown rather the one actually breaking down. But now was not the time for questions, even if I did want to know what was happening. "We'll talk, maybe some other time." With a comforting pat on his shoulder, I turned away and left, halting for a moment as I heard the murmured thanks before resuming my steps, purposefully now... and strangely, with a lighter heart.

oooOooo

"Look, I'm really sorry."

"You've been saying that since last night, I already said it's fine."

"I am still saying sorry because you haven't forgiven me yet!"

My hand twitched.

"Forget it." I said almost vehemently, my patience thinning considerably. I had enough of his apologies. I hadn't been able to sleep at all last night because his words kept repeating like a mantra inside my head. If he didn't quit it, I would really deck him – harder this time. It was not in my character to just hit someone, but I'm currently approaching the end of my tether and anything was possible. Self-control could only go too far.

But of course there was the matter of me not carrying out my threats all the time... and that would be another story, so let us just leave it at that.

"But I..."

"I said forget it already, it's fine."

"That's right. You said it's 'FINE'. I don't need 'FINE', I need 'I FORGIVE YOU', you half-wit!"

Half-wit? I glared at him in indignation. A glare that was short-lived as I saw him cringe, eyes momentarily narrowing to disgusted slits before widening in panic. He slumped tiredly on the Formica table, turning his face away from me. Atobe painted a sorry picture, and I was certain that he was feeling just as sorry. However, mistakes had to be paid off, that was my Golden Rule. One had to earn forgiveness especially when committing life-altering (and I'm not joking about this) errors – be they intentional or otherwise. It was true that I had forgiven him... but not fully.

And it wasn't about what happened last night anymore.

The rest of my forgiveness... Atobe had to earn back.

That was just the way it went.

And even if there was the sudden yearning to just give in and try to forget our past, I knew nothing would be solved by just automatically tolerating one's faults.

Slowly, I reached out and gently patted him on the head, basking in the soft feel of his hair tickling my fingers like raw silk. My brain registered the sensation and before I drowned, I managed to set it aside. It would not do well for both of us if I started doing things I shouldn't, no matter how much I wanted to. The sudden vivid imagery of two bodies entwined assaulted me, the same tickling feel dominant as the bodies moved... and I knew that if I did not let go, I would succumb to the lure of something knocking down the rest of my walls. I wasn't ready for it yet... I wasn't even sure of it yet... and I knew neither was Atobe.

Slowly, I let my hand drop back to my side, turning away before he had the chance to acknowledge it.

oooOooo

"Haru." I started as he grabbed me by the hand and hauled me out of the library before my last class. "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking up your offer." He said raptly, eyes seeming like manic stars twinkling with heavy responsibility. "I need to talk to someone – now – before I go kill myself."

Curiously, I eyed his haggard features. Never in my whole life had Sadaharu looked this severe... and never in my whole life did I hear him admit that he needed someone to talk to about seemingly pressing matters. Normally, he would just keep to himself – or mutter on and on about it whenever he thought he was alone, or at least, out of earshot. "What's wrong?" I asked carefully.

"Wakashi." He answered tiredly, his rimmed glasses flashing dully in the late afternoon light. "He's sick."

I stiffened. That's new... I thought in alarm.

"Why did he get sick? I thought you said he never got sick?"

"Well he's sick now." He muttered, fidgeting.

"Remember what happened the other day?"

I nodded, wincing inwardly at the memory of Hiyoshi-kun's gurgles while ingesting the muddy liquid unwillingly. "It was because of the juice." I finished quietly; worry seeping in my heart for someone whom I hadn't the chance to even get to know fully. A pang of guilt for laughing at him twisted inside me. My late grandfather once told otousan had always been this soft. I was my father's son after all.

He nodded, running a hand through his already-dishevelled hair.

"It was food poisoning."

oooOooo

I told Atobe everything that happened to Hiyoshi-kun that night, and even though I once said he was someone who didn't give any regard to other people, it somehow came as no surprise that he insisted on coming. Something deep within me voiced out that he cared for his former teammates... even if he did not exactly show it. They were his friends, his companions... his life... for they were the ones who stood by him in order to attain his goals. Sad thing was, they didn't know it... and somehow, seeing him like this, I finally knew. And still I wonder... was this the real Atobe Keigo?

He was a complex being, full of surprises... just as he was so full of himself. Back then; when I still saw the world in black and white, I had to admit that I thought of him a relentless being too focused on himself to understand the fact that the world didn't revolve around him. I thought of him as one too prideful to think there were others that were just as good as he was, if not more. I thought of him as an unconscientiously manipulative being that would not stop even if everything around him were destroyed by his selfishness... like when he aimed to damage my shoulder.

But then, I had to see the facts I overlooked while I thought of these things. When I fell on my knees during our unforgettable match in junior high... while I clutched my shoulder after a gruelling moment of pure unadulterated pain... his eyes were wide and glassy. He did not seem too happy... he did not seem too satisfied with what he had done. And after that, he did not mock me, instead, honoured my will to continue by giving his best – as if I was not injured at all. What was that, a show of quiet apology, or was he thinking that it was not enough? That he was not happy with the extent of my injury and actually wanted more? It was baffling, but if I were to guess back then, I would have to say it was the second one, so somehow, I resented him for it... but now that I was uncovering his persona bit by bit... It had to be the first choice.

His repeated apologies would prove that.

So now I was back to wondering, who was Atobe Keigo?

"Tezuka..."

I started at the forlorn tone and immediately turned to Atobe with questioning eyes, finding him with his hands deep in his pockets and eyes staring forward in deep thought.

"Hiyoshi was quiet and oftentimes branded as a manipulative bastard by the other Hyoutei players – and even those who were not. That was why he was always left in the background most of the time. They admired him for his skills but not for his person." Atobe revealed with eyes sad and worry completely etched on his face that I wanted to just put my arm around him and somehow help alleviate whatever pain it was plaguing him. "He was a necessity... that's why people knew him... but they never knew him."

"Atobe." I murmured, gazing at him solemnly, feeling some sort of knife twisting itself in my gut.

"Tezuka... I was once one of those people." He said quietly. "I was one of them until I saw him play against Inui. I saw his craving for attention... inwardly craving for some sort of recognition for what he truly was. And it pained me to realise that what they did – what I did was what made him morph into that conniving person no one wanted."

I nodded, knowing exactly what he felt. I had been doing the same thing to Momoshiro back in junior high. I regarded him only as a player – a necessity... I had not counted on missing his energy during club practice, his optimistic attitude that I later learned was a cover for the inferiority he felt since none of us were actually taking care of him. In fact, in random ways, he was the one actually taking care of us. But we never regarded it as such. Syusuke had Takashi to take care of, Sadaharu had Kaidoh to play with, Oishi had Eiji to manage, and I had Echizen-kun to train. He pushed himself in the circle of eight, leaving him the odd person out... and I... we hadn't realised it until he went AWOL for a few days after he did not make it to the Regulars... It was not just the pain of losing the spot. It was the pain of losing his identity. So I, for I was part of the guilty crowd, atoned for it by not writing him off the team roster. I accepted him back after he did his soul-searching, giving him the penalty of round-the-court laps as pretence. But he understood... and he smiled slightly, eyes determined once more. There were no masks. There was only Momoshiro Takeshi collecting back the life he had nearly thrown.

"Tezuka?"

I snapped out of my reverie when I heard Atobe's worried voice.

"Tezuka, we're here." He said, adjusting his knapsack's strap on his shoulder and turning away from me to stare at the shiny aluminium letters composing the hospital's name screwed on the painted wall.

"Let's go." I said softly, slipping my hands inside my pockets to combat the onslaught of chill coming from the air conditioners blowing in the corridors.

"Ahn."

It took us quite some time locating room 305, and when we did, I felt him stiffen. Sadaharu had opened the door.

I nodded and went in after Atobe. To my surprise, Mizuki and Ohtori were also inside, sitting in one of the couches, both of them immediately standing up the moment they saw us come in. I nodded in greeting and they both sat down, while my eyes followed Atobe as he made a beeline to where Hiyoshi-kun lay asleep, dark circles marring the naturally fair skin.

I watched in acute fascination as Atobe's fingers touched his junior's unruly pale brown bangs, fluffing them with brotherly affection and such care that Ohtori actually gasped – almost inaudibly. Then, vehemently, he turned to Sadaharu, eyes flashing with something akin to anger.

"Inui." He started. "No more juice-testing." He said with absolute authority that Haru, normally immovable, seemed shaken. "If you want to test it, just drink it yourself, at least if you faint, you won't directly harm anyone. Understood?"

At Haru's quiet assent, it was then that I knew... This person I was seeing, this person I was hearing... this person I was quietly admiring...

This was The Atobe Keigo, former tennis club captain of the illustrious Hyoutei Gakuen – in all his glory.

oooOooo

"Come on in." I murmured, watching him as he strode in, taking off his shoes and slipping his feet into a spare change of slippers. Gently, I closed the door. I felt a bit apprehensive about this sleepover thing even if it was for the Economics and Chemistry projects. They were actually due the week after the next, but since we did have busy schedules, we decided to piece everything together in an early date... so here we were, in my flat, with him looking around uncertainly (And I had to wonder why, since it was not exactly the first time he came here) and I looking at him uncertainly. "Make yourself... comfortable." I said hurriedly, taking off my own shoes and walking barefoot as I ushered him into the living room. My slippers were in my bedroom, so I had to walk on the cold, cold marble floor to get there. "Sit down and wait for a while, I'm going to get something."

He nodded, sitting down immediately on the soft leather sofa, his fingers running across the expanse of smooth furniture in quiet appreciation, and for once I was glad I resisted my mother when she told me to get the chintz one. Seriously now, she reminded me too much of Syusuke sometimes. I shook my head, a wry grin forming on my lips.

The moment I returned, I saw him standing up, eyes riveted in intense concentration on my most treasured possession. From where I stood, it seemed as if he was actually in the painting rather than a mere spectator. His hair complemented greatly the misted background of the scenery, and the seemingly bright light at the end of the tunnel-like environment of darkened tree trunks shone on Atobe like muted lamplight, heightening the aura of beauty that surrounded him for as long as I could remember. The chill in the room was becoming unbearable now, but strangely, warmth flooded my insides. Disturbed, I wrenched my gaze away and turned to the thermostat attached to the wall next to me. I quickly twisted the knob at a comfortable temperature rate.

The subtle clicking was enough to snap him out of his reverie. Startled, he turned to me, eyes wide and somewhat glassy... as if he saw something that he shouldn't have seen.

The silence was deafening, and, with both of us fidgeting, and no doubt fighting inwardly to say something appropriate, the only word that came to mind was 'awkward'.

"Umm..." I finally said, taking a deep breath and fixing him with the most serious gaze I could manage. "Do you want to eat something first or do you want to start now?"

"We could... start now..."

"Uh, okay, I'll get the printed data and the modelling stuff, then we'll start..." Wordlessly, I went back to my room to fetch the mountain of papers and art materials littering my desk. My heart was pounding and I could practically hear it surging in my ears. What was wrong with me? So, I do like Atobe... a bit... okay, lots, but becoming like this...?

Maybe I misjudged how far I had fallen.

oooOooo

We were supposed to be working on our Operations Research project first because that was to be passed during the first period (as opposed to the next period Chemistry. It didn't not matter either; since they would be passed on the same day...), but we ended up with the Nuclear Bomb Atom instead, after he threatened to poke me between the eyes with his fountain pen from complete boredom.

"Wow... your handwriting is as beautiful as Ore-sama(3)'s!"

What I noticed was that Atobe's mood improved right after what happened tonight, with Hiyoshi lying in the hospital and all. It was already half and hour past midnight and we were still(Take note of the emphasis here) making our model of Uranium 235 when he suddenly leant in and gazed thoughtfully at my handwriting. Soon, he deemed it amazing. I wonder why?

"You've seen that a hundred times over, Atobe."

He looked up at me with awed eyes and tapped his forefinger on my notebook. "Yes, but this is the first time that I had actually taken a good look at it!"

I was taken aback. "It is?" I asked in confusion, a glimmer of what I knew was suspicion rearing in the depths of my brain.

He nodded empathically, surveying my handwriting once more. "The lines are almost the same as mine... maybe I should ask someone why... yes, maybe I should..." He turned to me once more, making me wince at the intensity his eyes had. Why was it so important for him to know why anyway? "Tezuka, could you possibly put your signature on any piece of clean paper? I want to admire your handwriting more."

Admire? I stared at him incredulously. Since when did people admire other people's handwriting? The suspicion was getting stronger... And why my signature?

"Tezuka! Ore-sama wants your signature, so give it up already!" He glared, pointing at the piece of paper he produced from nowhere. "Here, sign here."

I glared back. "What assurance do I have that you're not going to put me in great debt? This is a blank piece of typewriting paper... how do I know you wouldn't be typing anything on it that would put me in trouble?"

Dramatically, he sighed, irking me more than usual. "Tezuka-chan" He drawled, gazing at me with an air of superiority. Unfortunately for him though, it did not work on me. "Just sign it, what's there to tamper with anyway? I don't know you that well... and you don't have a job yet, so why would you accumulate any kind of debt? Really, Tezuka!" he sniffed in annoyance.

I chose to remain silent... and just glared. My late grandfather reminded me of such things... and what my grandfather said, I took seriously.

Realising that even if he stared at me the whole afternoon, I wouldn't relent, he sighed, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, put your signature on it – and scale it such that it covers the entire paper. Fair? That way I wont be able to type anything that would put you in trouble."

Fair enough then. I rationalised. Finally conceding, I took the fountain pen he held out for me and signed. It was only when I straightened up and turned back to him that I began to reconsider what I had done.

For Atobe was grinning stupidly at the piece of paper I had signed, a scheming look glittering in his eyes.

oooOooo

When Atobe reported what his friend said about my handwriting during Operations Research class the next morning, did I finally relax.

"She said we were the same in the aspects of the heart and the soul... whatever that meant." He sniffed haughtily, as if the mere idea was ridiculous.

Inwardly, I smiled.

I was just being too suspicious lately... and that was it.

Right?

"Atobe." I called as I knocked on the door to my bathroom. "Atobe, are you already finished?"

It was just my ill luck that the princess beat me to the bath. Now I was standing in front of the door, pacing while waiting for over an hour and a half for him to finish lounging on the tub – or whatever ritual it was he was engaging in. he slept over again (4) last night for the projects, and I swore he was getting a tad bit too comfortable in my house, pattering about, sometimes shirtless especially after all the midnight showers, like he belonged wholly.

Good thing I wouldn't have any more competition tomorrow, or surely I would go insane. I sighed. Everything was finished – finally. Arigatou, Kami-sama. I mumbled in prayer.

"What did you say, Tezuka?" I gasped in surprise as Atobe opened the door and stepped out warily, wearing a very wet towel around his hips and a very familiar glittery silver cross around his neck. I had seen it somewhere, I was sure of it... but where? I was about to ask him when he knocked his knuckles against my forehead. "Oi, Tezuka, you still there?"

Speechlessly, I nodded, earlier mutterings about wanting to drown him in the tub myself if he did not get out ASAP, lost as I stared at the piece of jewellery. "Ah, sorry..." I mumbled, finally wrenching my eyes away from it, looking up at him in an effort to stop the heavy pounding of my heart ringing in my ears.

Bad move.

I nearly choked as I took in his appearance. Water was dripping from the tips of his hair, beads escaping to drip down the sides of his face... eyes glittering with intense curiosity as they regarded him with as much gusto as a predator would with a piece of fresh meat... lips parted seemingly in wonder... but why should he, when it was I who was staring in wonder at him?

Quickly, I excused myself and pushed my way inside the newly vacated bathroom. I needed some time alone to clear my head.

The moment I took off my clothes and turned on the shower did I realise...

I forgot to bring my towel inside.

oooOooo

Syusuke had now taken to calling me Mitsu.

I didn't exactly know what Souichirou told him about that nickname, and I didn't have the faintest memory of having told him of anything about it. I knew I should be offended, because it violated Gustav's memory somehow... but then I was not feeling any aggression towards these people calling me such.

In fact, deep inside, I liked it.

It made me feel safe... just as I felt when Gustav was still with me.

"Ah, Tezuka-buchou... how was your shower this morning?"

I groaned inwardly. Ah yes... Atobe was Syusuke's best friend. I should have remembered. I should have known he would tell him what happened this morning.

Apparently, Syusuke thought it funny, for he was not smiling – he was actually snickering. And apparently, Atobe felt amusement too as he gave every detail.

Anyone who wanted to know exactly what happened... well, let's just say... it had something to do with a certain someone who had to beg a sadistic jerk for a dry towel... the towel given was... well... inadequate for a certain someone's needs. Erm.

What happened next... you wouldn't want to know.

"What shower?" I answered monotonously, trying not to show my embarrassment – and failing miserably.

"Oh nothing."

I shrugged and was about to saunter into the Student Council Hall when Syusuke grasped my sleeve. Surprised, I halted and turned around, trying to gauge if he was again mocking me or it was indeed important. I had to get my notes from Haru who was in his own office... that is, if I ever get to go near it. From the looks of things, Syusuke wanted me to spill the sordid details before he finally let me go. And that would take a long, long time. Whatever had I done recently to deserve this?

"Mitsu... did Kei-chan tell you anything?"

I raised a confused brow. "Tell me what?"

He regarded me and from the looks of it, came to a realisation that I was not yet informed of something. "Tell me what, Syusuke?" I asked carefully. I narrowed my eyes at him. Tell me what? Atobe wanted to tell me what?

Then the smile came again, yes, the infamous rainbows of pure, giddy, mischievous happiness that was directed solely at me. This was not good.

"Tell me what?" I repeated the third time, glaring at him as he loosened his hold on my sleeve and began studying his fingernails innocently.

"Oh, I don't know if I should tell you this but, Keigo... he said..."

I tapped my foot twice impatiently, eyes trained at Syusuke's knowing smile.

"That this morning, when you got out of the bathroom... Keigo said..."

"What?"

"That you have nice legs."

oooOooo

"I was telling the truth!" Atobe declared when he arrived just before I stomped off to where Sadaharu was. My notes were waiting... and my skin was turning crimson from embarrassment. Why did Atobe tell Syusuke about it? I groaned inwardly. I needed to hide, but then, the need to order Atobe to run a hundred laps was stronger. Of course I couldn't do that, since I was not exactly the captain of the university's tennis team, but I wanted to... and the words were starting to bubble up my throat.

Syusuke must've realised this, for he started saying things that aggravated me more.

"Ah... what I would pay to have seen that!" He sighed seemingly dreamy before patting Atobe on the shoulder in such a heartfelt way that I was irked even further. "Why didn't you take even a single picture?"

"Syusuke..." I warned, switching the infamous Death Glare™ at him.

"Ah, actually, I snapped one." Atobe answered excitedly, holding up a compact camera of the latest style... the one that fit inside the pocket unnoticeably. My eyes widened. "Think the others would want to see it? I mean, it would look great on the hall tag boards."

"You wouldn't dare." I blurted out. I must've been looking as if on the verge of a heart attack because the two evil beings started to giggle... like schoolgirls.

"I wouldn't?" Atobe baited me perversely. "Then you don't really know me that well, Tezuka-chan..." Slipping the camera inside his back pocket, he started running.

I gritted my teeth. No. That picture shouldn't be leaked out... what would happen to the only thing I have left... my reputation? "Atobe..." I muttered in panic.

"Ah, Mitsu, If I were you I would start moving now... Kei-chan is very serious, I saw it in his eyes."

"And I suppose you have nothing to do with this?"

"No, nothing." He answered cheerfully.

"Tezuka-chan!" I heard Atobe call from a considerable distance. It was clear that he wanted me to give chase.

"Then why didn't you help me get the stupid camera?" I asked him, exasperated.

"Because it is more fun this way, don't you think so?" Syusuke grinned in amusement, cocking his head to one side, trying to look charming – and doing a darned good job of it too.

Groaning inwardly, I started running.

Forget the notes. This was more important.

oooOooo

There was no picture.

I was duped.

Tiredly, I slumped on the patch of lawn where I caught up with Atobe, both of us tumbling down as I pawed for the camera in his back pocket a while ago.

"Atobe... what in heaven's name did you this for?" I panted, removing my eyeglasses to wipe off my sweat with a clean handkerchief.

"Because it is more fun this way, don't you think so?" He answered, grinning slyly, obviously enjoying the aftershocks of the tussle. It was as gratifying for me to realise I was chasing him for nothing (no blackmail material, so I was somehow relieved), as he was to have deceived me. He was like Syusuke in many ways, I guess... and this was one of them.

"Atobe."

"Ahn?"

"You're evil."

And he just cackled.

Now I understood why they became friends.

They empathized with each other...

And kept me wondering when I would finally understand them both.

oooOooo

Stare.

That was all I could do now that this monstrosity was sitting in front of me, staring just as intently. It was not moving... and neither was I. In a contest of will, both of us had the fighting chance to survive.

"Kunimitsu. It's not going to eat you."

I shifted my glare at Sadaharu, concentration momentarily lapsing. "What is this?"

"I did not make that, if you really want to know... so it's safe."

"Where did you get it?"

"From the restaurant downtown. The cook said it was delicious. I've tried it and I found it nice."

I stared back at my deadly opponent. "This isn't food." I declared. "I definitely refuse to eat this."

"Kunimitsu stop acting like a baby. Look, Syusuke is eating it happily; I am eating it happily – before you began your criminal interrogation. So eat it already."

The plate stared back at me angrily, as if daring me to touch it. As I reached out and stabbed my chopsticks into the formless gruesome lump on the proverbial platter, I was dreading its resurrection. The brown, chunky, and sticky thing moved. I immediately drew back. I knew I was turning green around the gills, but then I knew that if I didn't 'kill' the damn thing and start devouring it, I would be one unhappy – and hungry Tezuka Kunimitsu. One that might faint during tennis practice from lack of sustenance.

I grimaced.

As if this would be called sustenance.

"Tezuka-buchou." Syusuke scolded. "Eat it. Just think of all the hungry people around the world if you throw that away. Come on, don't be such a sourpuss. It tastes great!" He scooped up some using his chopsticks and held it in front of me, as one would do a child. At that moment, I felt a lot like Yuuta-kun. Hesitantly, with eyes closed, not daring to breathe, I took the offering.

"See? It doesn't taste bad, does it?"

It was when I started chewing that I felt faint. I was about to get up and spit it out when I caught Sadaharu's mean glare, his glasses glistening under the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria. "Swallow. If you don't, I'll make you drink my New Improved Inui Jiru Version Twenty-Eight."

Did I ever tell anyone that I just hate having takeout for lunch with these two?

oooOooo

I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I just hope it wasn't because of the Natto Sadaharu made (more like threatened) me consume during lunchtime. With Hiyoshi-kun out of commission due to the fact that he was still recovering from a severe case of indigestion and allergies (One word – food poisoning) I had been proclaimed as his next target.

It was one of those times I remembered why I detested him.

I was about to rest after a whole afternoon experimenting with the newly installed oven my mother decided to give as a gift earlier (though for what I didn't know. I rarely cooked anyway. Were all mothers like this?). And I would still be at it if I had not nearly burnt the kitchen. Yes, maybe I should ask Okaasan(5) tomorrow on how to regulate the heat properly... and maybe teach me how to...

RING!

The sound of the ringing phone interrupted my thoughts. Sighing, I slowly got up from my already comfortable position on the centre of my bed and shuffled towards where the contraption lay, jangling loudly enough for the world to hear. "Moshi moshi... Tezuka Kunimitsu desu." I muttered almost irritably, scratching away a slight itch on my cheek from all the baking powder stuck to my face.

"Ah, Tezuka-chan... This is Atobe."

"Don't call me that." I snapped back involuntarily, before taking a hold of myself and taking a deep breath in order to start talking normally again. However, before even a single word was out of my mouth, Atobe beat me to it.

"Ah, Tezuka-chan... I was wondering if you could come here in and help me with this..."

"The project?" I asked, wondering why he wanted help from me – he was as proficient as he was at anything! (Not counting the two-time failures we had back then of course... now that I thought of it, that did sound quite suspicious) "Atobe, you're bright enough to do your calculations... you don't need help from me."

There were a couple of moments of silence before Atobe responded in his usual arrogance. "Yes, of course I'm good at anything but... I really need your help in this... you know, just to make sure I'm doing this right. A simple mistake would affect both of us after all."

It was rational, I knew, but somehow I got the feeling that he was not being truthful to me – as if he was hiding something important. What was it then?

Maybe I was just being doubtful of him far too much.

"Okay, I'm coming over." I sighed with finality. "Do you want me to bring anything?"

"No, I have everything we need. "

"How about something to eat?"

"I have a full fridge."

Then, I remembered the ref cake I made for myself after the oven disaster (Never mind my poor attempt at making a baked one. I wasn't that hungry after all), stocked deep inside my own fridge. I smiled. Maybe he would like it (Mizuki did not like the recipe one bit when I made one before his breakdown(6), but I did not have to tell Atobe about it, right?). "I want you to taste something of mine."

There was nervous laughter at the other end of the line. "Taste something of yours? Hmm, that should be interesting... do you taste it all the time?" My cheeks burned at the sound of Atobe's husky tone. Silently I cursed myself for the stupid phrasing. Being away for a long time in Germany had affected my Japanese too much.

Or maybe it was the mental picture that had suddenly sprung into my brain that made me so flustered... erm... an image that would, well, put porn movies to shame. But then nobody had to know I was thinking them...) I shook my head wildly, pushing the vision away. "Aho ya(7). I did not mean it that way." I grated hoarsely. "I was just saying that I did a recipe a while ago and I want you to taste it!"

"Oh." He said brightly as if finally understanding what I meant. "I see, you should try using better sentences next time."

Still flushed, I sighed. "Whatever. I'll just bring it."

"Okay, your choice... see you then...?"

"Okay, see you."

I put down the receiver and shuffled towards my closet, wondering what I should wear. I scratched another itch forming on my chin. But first, a shower to take all the gook off. How I managed to survive making the ref cake was beyond me. Maybe the will to actually have something edible as a dessert forced me to do so. And then there was the other need inside me – to look not just presentable, but... well, nice... though, as usual, I did not have the faintest idea why. Maybe Atobe was rubbing off on me with his usual flair for fashion... or maybe... I sighed, rifling through the shirts hanging in front of me. Nah... Couldn't be.

There was that sudden feeling in stomach again... and that thought of forgetting something important... Something that gnawed in my insides everytime I thought about going out...

What is it? Why can't I remember? I groused inwardly, taking off a moss green knitted sweater off its hanger. Involuntarily, my eyes strayed towards where I had hung a calendar near the white board beside my bed. The dates are clear... I did not write anything...

If it's important, I should've written something... right?

oooOooo

"Ah, Tezuka, what a nice surprise!"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "This isn't a surprise visit, Atobe. You asked me to come over."

"Oh, come on, Tezuka-chan, admit it, even if you say such tasteless things... you actually like me!" He drawled, stepping aside to let me pass. We had this conversation before, I could still remember, but I was hesitant to answer now, for once again, it might become awkward between us. I remained quiet, setting foot on his huge apartment. It was very much unlike my own. A whole family could live here without them bumping each other eight times each day. I felt small... as if I did not deserve to just look at everything inside Atobe's home. And I wondered how could any place be as large as it was in Tokyo. It was too far from the normal hustle and bustle yes, but still... it was behind the university... and it was still Tokyo.

I was about to comment on it when the weight of the plastic bag I toted reminded me of my visiting present. Ouji-sama told me that it was the polite thing to do... and whatever he said, I understood... and never took for granted.

"Atobe... I made some ref cake early this afternoon." I murmured, holding it out to him as he sauntered behind me after closing the door. And when I saw his eyes, I saw the solemn appreciation in them, and I was bound to remain staring at them as they stared back at me. Atobe took the package from my hands and finally broke eye contact. Then, I too turned away.

"Ah... I'd better freeze this. What's in it?" He asked eagerly, opening the bag to admire the painstaking design I made on the cake surface. And I thanked the high heavens that I listened to Gustav before while he was in one of his cake decorating highs. "It looks pretty... then he looked up, his deep ocean eyes glittering teasingly. "As pretty as Ore-sama, na, Tezuka-chan?"

I snorted, shaking my head. "Hai, hai." I answered back, amusement coursing through my veins. Really now, this guy...

"Here, put this on." He said, kneeling down so suddenly that I was confused for a while before I saw the most ridiculous pair of slippers I had ever seen. He grinned up at me, his teeth white in the cosy lights of his pseudo-hallway. "Cute, aren't they?"

"They are tiger paw fuzzy slippers... Atobe." I started, slipping my bare feet into them (Which was a bit numb from the cold since I took off my shoes by the door). Curiously though, he did not get up. The cake was on the floor by his side, and his head was down, his hands busy primping the fuzz in the slippers, in an effort to, I'm guessing, keep my feet warm.

I felt like a Royal husband being doted upon by his wife.

I shivered at the implication of that though. What was I thinking? "Atobe... get up."

"Hmm?"

"The cake will be too mushy if you don't freeze it now." I said after clearing my throat.

He seemed to have realised just now what position he was in for he immediately scrambled up and dusted the seat of his pants (there was no speck of dust anyway, he was kneeling, for heaven's sake, but he had to do it... out of habit, probably). Then, he stooped down from the waist and picked up the plastic bag. I should warn him that it was bad for his spine... but then he was the one who told the youngest of the freshmen in the team about that before, so why the error now? Maybe he was embarrassed about what happened earlier? However, before I could actually decide on what to do, he bolted (for lack of a better word), leaving me in midst of a very spotless minimalist living room. The sparse decorations were obviously used to emphasize the size of it, making one feel as if he was inside a lobby of a grand hotel. And the feeling I had was no different than what the decorator must've had thought of. But this feeling... it was kind of strange, for the illusion that I was a stranger in the Garden of Eden (poor comparison, but it was the first thought that came to mind) was absent. Instead, belongingness was there, creeping into my heart... as if... as if I was the room's owner. Why was it that way?

And why was it that I felt something twinge in the chambers of my heart the moment Atobe answered the door with a smile as wide as the ocean, and with deep, deep eyes?

"Ah, Tezuka-kun, am I right?"

Startled, I looked up from staring at my slippers and connected instantly with the kind features of a woman in her early forties. Even with her age though, she was still beautiful. I nodded. "Hai. Good afternoon, I'm... Tezuka Kunimitsu, Atobe's..." I'm Atobe's... what? What exactly am I to him. Maybe I should've started my sentence with 'Atobe is...'. I contemplated. I was so busy thinking that she laughed softly. I blushed, but I should not have, since I did not say anything idiotic – or did I? Maybe she mistook my silence as something... more? I stared at her, horrified, the small smile that stole into my face the moment I started introducing myself frozen as I gazed at her amused expression.

"I know who you are, little one." Little one? I knew I should be insulted, since we're almost the same height and she was smaller than I was, but her kind smile was what brought my temper to a grinding halt. "You are Kei-chan's lo..."

"Long time friend." Both of us turned at Atobe whose cheeks were flushed, probably from running straight from the kitchen. Maybe the kitchen was located far from the living room. I reasoned. "Okaasan(8), Tezuka's my long time friend." He said clearly, his eyes pleading for me to take the bait if I wanted to escape from his mother's fascinated gaze.

"Ah, that I know." She laughed, turning to her son in amusement. Over what? Does she find me amusing? I thought in panic. Was I doing something wrong? The paranoia was unwelcome at any rate, unfortunately though, it chose to stay. "You talk about him all the time!"

"I do not!" Atobe protested.

"He does?" I asked at the same time, unable to believe my ears.

She laughed. She never did anything more than laugh after that. With a flourish, she slinked across to give Atobe a hug and a quick kiss on the forehead. "Hai, hai." She conceded, even when it was obvious that she had not. "Have fun, and take care of yourself, Kei-chan, make the most out of everything... I love you!"

Atobe nodded, eyes turning a bit misty for a second before realising he was about to bawl and stopping the flow of tears before doing so. Ah, he was well loved by his mother, same as I was. "Hai, okaasan... Arigatou gozaimasu for visiting."

She nodded, giving him one last hug before turning to me and giving a small wave of goodbye that eight-year-old kids do. I couldn't resist an amused smile. "Bai bai Tezuka-chan!" I bristled at the familiar nickname the same time she grinned. I resisted the urge to answer her back with 'Don't call me that.' The same way I did with Atobe, but I found that I couldn't. So instead, I watched her as she put on her shoes and breezed happily through the door.

That was Atobe's mother.

I gave him a sideways glance, finding him clutching a potholder, staring at the now departed form of his mother. I cleared my throat. "Your mother was... interesting." I commented.

Atobe came to his senses and gave me a sad smile. "Yeah... she is that, isn't she?"

The lonely feeling was emanating from him – and bombarding me. I felt a twinge of pain in my chest. He was lonely – as lonely as I was... or probably more.

"It's rare that she comes for a visit... about a day or two..."

"In a month?"

"In a year." He revealed. "She visited me the second time today... the last one was this May, so she wouldn't be visiting soon. But I understand, after all, the weight of the whole company's management is in her hands. She succeeded my father."

"Oh." I considered what he said. "Your father, did he retire early? Doesn't he visit?"

He turned to me, eyes pained. "My father took a one-way trip to paradise a couple of years ago, when his liver failed him... family disease, the doctors said... inherited. Fortunately, I did not have it... but he wasn't so lucky."

"I'm sorry." I murmured, eyes dropping to his clenched hands, potholder overly crumpled now.

"It's not your fault." His smile faltered. "But it probably was mine. I told him something I decided upon that he did not particularly take a liking to... and he started abusing himself, drinking... and then quarrelling with me. My mother was caught in the middle... and the one that caught him when he collapsed one day that I was not at home."

"I came to the hospital too late." He continued. "He was already gone, but he told my mother to tell me that he loved me... that whatever I wanted, he would give in to, for he finally learned after all his soul-searching, that he trusted me more than anyone in the world, and loved me for who I am... it was... comforting at least... but I did not want words then... I wanted my father. But he wasn't of this world anymore..."

"Atobe..."

"He requested his heart, which was miraculously healthy, be given to someone who needed it..." He gave a brittle laugh. "My father... always is doing great deeds for others." Then, he looked up at me and smiled genuinely. "But I'm happy."

"You're happy?" I echoed, surprised at the sudden change in disposition.

He nodded, his free hand clutching the familiar silver cross hanging in a chain around his neck. "His heart was dissected into major tissues and was transplanted into a guy my age two days later, the fifteenth of June... it was in Germany, I think. It gave me great pleasure to know it helped. The one who had the operation gave me this pendant as a token of gratitude."

Gustav lost the necklace I gave him as a token of friendship in the hospital two years ago... a month after his operation... I thought, heart beating wildly.

"He said through a letter that he was well and was on the way to recovery. I do hope he's doing great now. I wanted to see him, but he told me he would mail me when he would be free... heh, but we couldn't decide on dates, since our breaks are in conflict. So I never got to see him in person... only in the web camera." His smiled widened.

It was a silver cross... with an ocean-coloured gemstone as a centrepiece.

Atobe revealed, a wistful look in his eyes."He looked a bit pale, and I asked him about it a year ago, but he just laughed and said that the camera must have been blurring his image a bit, and that he was fine... and then... just a six months before you came back, he said he was going to go away for a long while and might not show up for a year... transferring schools and such. I haven't heard from him since... and frankly, I miss him. He is a good friend."

Gustav said he lost it... while he was being carted home. Stunned, I stared at the cross he let go of. The same silver cross that settled on the middle of his shirt-covered chest. The centre stone was winking at me, the miniature aquamarine gem glinting madly as if telling me something truly amazing... something... truly important. He said he lost it...

"It was funny though..."

"Funny?"

"While we were swapping stories, he mentioned a Japanese friend that fits the description of whom I said was my biggest rival... Also wore glasses, had windblown hair, unshakeable, quite grumpy at times... and seriously needing muscles for smiling." He laughed, warming up to the topic even more. "But when I said you were tall, well, back then, I assumed you were tall because in junior high you were at least a couple of centimetres taller than I was, he said, 'Gods, we couldn't be talking about the same person!' and I thought that he was right. Well, that was then, but if we were to talk now? Heh, I would think that we were talking about one person – you."

I felt dizzy. No, it just couldn't be... "Who... What was... the name... of the recipient?" I asked weakly. He knew Atobe from all the stories he pried from me while I was recovering from my injury... he knew Atobe's real name... he knew... but then... why would he... the necklace... it couldn't be...

"Come to think of it, Tezuka... the name of his friend was somewhat similar to yours... Mitsu..." Atobe grinned, as if he did not hear my question at all. "Maybe each of us has a double out there – somewhere... uh, Tezuka-chan, are you alright?"

I had no more energy to respond to the ridiculous nickname. I was desperate... I needed to know...

Memories came rushing back.

/"Mitsu, what's the date today?"

"It proves my point then... Some things are just unavoidable... like what happened before... so don't feel too bad about every unpleasant thing that comes your way."

"Mitsu... please do something for me... I want you to... I want you to try to smile – a lot."/

What was he telling me back then? Why did he keep something like this from me, I, his supposedly good friend? Why this, Gustav? What were you telling me...? "I'm fine... Demo(9), Atobe..."

"Hmm?"

"What's the name of... the recipient?"

"Oh, right, his name is..."

"Is what?"

"Gustav... Gustav Shostakovich"

TBC

A/N: Not expecting that twist, huh? Well, I wasn't either. XD It just jumped out of my overly dramatic brain. And yesh... the dreaded occurrence is here. There would be a Insert trumpet fanfare here PART 4! Crash! Bang! Boom! Went the skies in complete anger I was not expecting this either. God, it's my love for this pairing that drove me to expand, I swear! Sigh Well, until the next part! Waves AtoTezu/TezuAto banner high up in the air

1 Honestly though, Tezuka strikes me as someone who had enough temper to take a clean swipe and yet the discipline not to. He seems... well... repressed when angry. He never hit anyone even if he was really furious... he just disciplines those who needed it the best way he knew how.

Eiji: A hundred laps around the court again, nya... Starts running along with the others, cat ears drooping

Tezuka: Kikumaru, move it!

Eiji: Mou, Tezuka, you are so mean, it wasn't my fault that Inui's juice got into your bottle in the first place... groans

2 Yesh Tezuka-kun... listen to your inner voice... haunting music

3 Atobe calls himself Ore-sama... The word "Ore" means "I", and the suffix "-sama" shows respect for great people... snicker figures. XD

4 Atobe had been doing this for a week now, and it was the last, since the projects were finished already. That night. No excuses anymore, na, Atobe-chan? wink, wink

5 Mother dear... see here, see here... .

6 Refer to what had happened in part 1: Mizuki told Tezuka about the whole Fuji episode. T.T

7 My Japanese friend snapped at me using this when I was teasing him about his girlfriend's bad hair day. XD He said it meant "Stupid!" I understood the "Aho" part, but the "ya"? Heh, I need to study more of this... whips out books Inui-style

8 This means "Mother".

9 Roughly translates to "But"