Disclaimer: Once again, not mine

Notes: First and foremost, sankyuu for the reviews, they made my day! Um, secondly, I know I make Tezuka talk too much, but it's needed for the story so bear with me. And this is my first time actually posting a fic so be gentle.

-x-

The apartment was empty when Tezuka returned from class, Inui was probably in class or in the library. It did not concern him.

There was a note stuck on the stove, why the stove?

Tezuka, we ran out of milk, you need to go buy some, there's a 98.47 percent chance that you don't want to but go do it anyway. –Inui. P.S. water your tulips; I put them on the coffee table. They need watering every 4 hours; I looked it up at the library.

Inui was right; he didn't want to go buy milk. Tezuka never drank milk anyway. Inui was a health nut. Tezuka believed in nutrition, his meals were balanced enough, but sometimes, Inui went over the edge.

The tulips were sitting in a glass vase on the coffee table, he'd never seen that vase before, maybe his friend had picked it up during some junk sales. Having nothing else to do, Tezuka dutifully watered the tulips. He wondered whom they were from.

The small piano sat beside the couch, it had been a present from his piano teacher when he graduated from high school. Tezuka hardly practiced at home now, for two main reasons, one; the other people living in the lower floors complained that it was too loud, even if he did play with the silencer pedal down. Two, the campus music lab offered better pianos and no one complained.

But now, he sat down and ran a hand over the wood, covered in three layers of dust. He played a one handed scale; three of the keys were broken, and most of the keys were out of tune.

The phone rang: Hello, you've reached the Tezuka/Inui residence; we are currently unable to answer your call, leave a message.

Tezuka reached for the receiver, "Yes?"

"It's Inui, I'm at the florist's."

"Where?"

"It's about those tulips."

"They're just tulips, not some scientific experiment gone wrong, why are you so interested?" Tezuka had half a mind to hang up, it was just like Inui to conduct a thorough investigation involving yellow tulips, "It's not like they're made out of nuclear material or something."

"I got curious."

Tezuka hung up.

The phone beeped again, this time, he did not bother picking it up.

Hello, you've reached the Inui/Tezuka residence, we are currently unable to answer your call, leave a message.

The message receiver beeped, "Hello, Tezuka, this is Kajimoto Takahisa from your communications class, sorry to bother you but I—"

"Yes?" The phone seemed extremely busy today.

"I seem to have misplaced the guidelines for that one project due next Wednesday, do you have it?"

"I'll email it to you."

"Thanks, uh, well, I'll see you in class." Click. Apparently, Kajimoto wasn't very smooth with words either.

Tezuka sighed and switched on the computer.

His email held two unread messages, both were from his mother, apologizing that she wouldn't be able to make it to his concerts, but insisted that he had to come home for winter break, as everyone was eager to see him.

Winter break…Tezuka glanced at the oversized calendar hanging directly above the computer, scrawled with notices beyond recognition, two months away, it could wait. She also wished him a happy birthday tomorrow.

It was his birthday? That was quick.

He needed some space, which was why he chose to attend Kyoto University, a good day's from home. Not that his parents were restraining his freedom, but, rather, because it was way too painful to walk past Seishun Gakuen each day and thinking of the face.

-x-

Tezuka stared blankly at the tennis courts, though not seeing it. There may have been someone calling his name, but if so, he did not notice. He weighed his racket in his left hand and cringed slightly.

A hand stopped him. "You've used that racket for ages, are you really going to get rid of it?"

The laconic buchou sank down by the wired fence, still holding the racket loosely, "It's my racket, I can do anything I want with it." He put it down, "I have no use for it. My father has already brought me a piano."

"You're really going to quit?"

"It's not like I have a choice." Tezuka scooted over to make room for the other boy, who took the sign as an invitation to sit.

"Ah, well, you still have two months until graduation. Isn't that a good thing?"

"I wish it was over already." Tezuka sighed.

"Why?"

He wondered why the most innocent question could cause so much pain, Tezuka stared at the eager face next to him, how could the face be so eager to obtain agony? He wished he had the strength to do that. "It doesn't concern you."

"Ne, don't be so cold." The other's head rested lightly on his shoulder, looking up at him. "What happened to the caring silent Tezuka?"

Caring? As far back as could remember, caring had never been a word describing him, cold was a word much more often used, and the fact that the two terms had been reversed bothered him. "I wasn't aware that I gave that impression."

"Oh, you are," soft hands rubbed his arm, "At least to me...ne, are you blushing?"

As much as Tezuka hated to admit it, he liked having the hand there. "Don't you have to go home?"

"No."

"Stay a while."

A faint smile emerged. "I plan to."

They fell into the habit of doing this, everyday after practice, when the freshmen had cleaned up the courts, they would sit there, just the two of them, in silence.

"You're still cold…"

"You fell asleep again?"

Tezuka sat up suddenly; he realized he had been using the couch armrest as a pillow, clutching a rag. "You're back so soon?"

"Soon?" Inui looked up at the clock, "It's five thirty. What have you been doing?"

"It is?" Tezuka hated sounding so clueless. Moreover, he was not enthusiastic to explain that he had, well; even Tezuka himself wasn't exactly sure what he had been doing, for example, why was he holding a rag full of dust? "Did you bring anything back for dinner?"

"Ramen." Inui indicated the two Styrofoam bowls and wooden chopsticks sitting on the coffee table beside the vase of tulips, "The smaller one's yours."

"Thank you, what were you going to say earlier?" Tezuka asked in what he hoped was a casual tone as he washed out the rag at the kitchen sink, "About the tulips?"

"Oh, the tulips…I asked the clerk who ordered them." Inui said with his mouth full. "He said no one in the past three days ordered yellow tulips."

"So they're probably homegrown." Tezuka replied with no expression whatsoever as he ripped open a packet of soy sauce and emptied half into his bowl. "I can't see why you're so interested. They weren't sent to you."

"That's what makes it so interesting." A strange light glinted passed Inui's glasses, making him look oddly sinister. "Who would send you a bouquet of yellow tulips, homegrown, without leaving a note or anything?" he paused, as if he was in deep thought, "I mean, if it was an obsessed fan or something, they would definitely leave a note."

At the mention of fans, Tezuka shuddered, and spilled tea on his shirt, he was never very good at dealing with fans.

"Which reminds me, your birthday's tomorrow. Here." Inui shoved a crudely wrapped rectangle-shaped thing at him. "Sorry about the wrapping, I was experimenting. Happy Birthday."

One could experiment with wrapping? That was truly a new one. "Oh, thanks."

Tezuka took his time in unwrapping, not that he could've ripped it off in the first place, the package was so weighed down with tape that he had to get up and fetch scissors from the kitchen.

"What's this?" Tezuka ended up holding a book about half the size of a textbook. There was nothing on the cover. Yet the covers were sealed in plastic.

"Open it."

Tezuka opened it, and immediately slammed it shut. He felt slightly sick as he set the book down on the coffee table, instantly losing what little appetite he had in the first place, "Did you do that on purpose?"

"It's for you when you're ready." Inui offered, by the way of explanation, nonchalantly taking a sip of tea (or was it tea? In his experience, there was no blue drinkable liquid known as tea).

Obviously, he wasn't ready. Tezuka stood up handling the book with the tip of his fingers, as if he was afraid that it would explode into smithereens any minute, "Thank you. I think I will go to bed early. Good night."

-x-

Tezuka did not lie, or, rather to put it more correctly, Tezuka did not lie unless he had a legitimate reason to, this; going to bed seemed to him a good enough reason. He did not want to sleep; he needed the time alone to think.

"I don't like this." As an affirmation, he spoke aloud, even though Inui could be eavesdropping outside the door. As much as his roommate enjoyed collecting data to torture certain people, he would never stoop that low, or so Tezuka hoped. "I don't like this at all."

He turned the book over three times in his hands, but Tezuka did not open it again, it would cause too much…

What? It shouldn't bother him, as he was deprived of those memories.

Tezuka put the book on top of his dresser. He could feel a major headache coming; maybe he could manage to fall asleep before it overtook him. With his luck, it wouldn't be possible. He closed the shades and turned off the lights.

Though it seemed to be hours before he got to sleep. The darkness that infested his room that night was a strange one; perhaps that was why the face did not choose to haunt him, at least for tonight. For that much, he was thankful. It was simpler that way.