Disclaimer: I don't own Tennis no Ohjisama. (We established that in chapter 1, obviously.)

Notes:Wee! Chapter 6 already!Erm, I have a feeling I'm going to get killed for this chapter…but hey, read it anyway. And I promise it will be a happy ending so…yeah, whatever.

-x-

Tezuka stretched out a hand, as if by that alone he could hold Oishi in place and yell at him an explanation so absurd that only drunkards could believe. After several collective breaths, he managed the name, "Oishi."

His friend paused, one hand poised around the brass doorknob, "Yes?"

"You…" it seemed that Tezuka's legs would no longer support him, he was forced to grabbed the armrest for support, "Why do you want to know? What makes your so-called perfect buchou fall on his knees like the coward that he is? Am I really that good of a liar, Oishi? I'm running away, away when I always smile and tell you that, yes, everything is all right…"

From what he could remember, Tezuka never smiled, but Oishi didn't think it was the right time to bring it up. Needless to say, the former vice-captain was shocked. Oishi had never even heard his superior (in Seigaku, at least) string together three coherent sentences in one breath before…now this was…there was only one word for it, overwhelming. "Um…Tezuka."

"I'm really an idiot aren't I? Just say so, you're not the first."

Oishi cringed. Even the voice was starting to change. The usually monotonous drone rose to almost an uncharacteristically sharp, bitter quality that grated his ears, "No." he finally had to guts to say, "You're not an idiot."

Tezuka didn't know anything more at all.

-x-

His clothes were probably drenched in cold sweat, judging from the fact that his shirt was wet and since his feet hung off the edge of whatever he was lying on, he guessed he was on the couch. Floating somewhere above him were voices, two of them.

The first belonged to Oishi, soft, urgent, "I don't know what happened, he just passed out."

The second voice was Inui's, calm, businesslike as always, "I think it's just the flu, Tezuka's been complaining of headaches all week."

"Oh, I see…" Oishi was hesitant in his reply, "Well, uh, I guess that wasn't a good time to ask him about that then."

"Ask him about what?" Inui's hand trailed over his forehead. Tezuka was sure it was Inui's hand because his roommate's fingers were hardened from writing data…and tennis, but that didn't count. Oishi played tennis too.

Tezuka kept his eyes closed, he had a feeling he wasn't suppose to take part in this conversation anyway.

"Some…um, stuff that happened, before he…" again, Oishi couldn't quite bring himself to say the word.

"Changed." Inui supplied indifferently, moving his hand away from Tezuka's forehead. "Everyone wants to know, and of course he tells no one. That's one part of Tezuka that hasn't disappeared yet. I can swear that."

"How much do you know?" Oishi asked.

"About the same as everyone else." Inui sounded disappointed.

"If you two are going to talk me over, don't do it two inches from my face." Tezuka finally spoke, he struggled to sit up, but Oishi instinctively held him down.

"Don't move, you're sick." Good, at least Tezuka's voice was back to normal, Oishi relaxed.

"I'm not sick." He protested faintly, "I'm just not feeling very well, that's all."

"That's the definition of 'sick', at least 89.3 percent of it." Guess who said that?

"Be quiet, Inui. What time is it?" Tezuka glanced around, looking for a clock, then he realized his vision was blurred and quickly added, "Where'd you put my glasses?"

"I have them." Oishi removed his glasses from his pocket, "It is 2:25."

"Give them to me." Tezuka snatched the glasses and eased off the couch, "Why didn't you wake me sooner?"

"You were unconscious." Inui corrected. "I could have fed you my latest concoction to sting you back to your senses, but then you'd probably make me pay the rent."

"You are paying the rent, we went over that yesterday." Tezuka grabbed his bag, which had magically materialized on the ground. "I'll be going now."

"To where?"

"Please do not stalk me. It's for school." The warning was futile, he knew that.

-x-

Kajimoto was waiting at their usual table with three books on modern communication, and a thick file folder. He was also drinking something, most likely coffee, the library did not allow food or drink, but the librarian was too old to walk around to interrogate people, so who cared? "Tezuka." He raised a hand in greeting, and then stopped, "You look pale."

"I'm always pale." Tezuka offered by the way of explanation, "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Oh." Kajimoto seemed to accept that. "Okay, I found these books to be pretty useful, you should look over them."

"I will, what are you doing now?" Tezuka picked up the first volume and leafed through it, it was about 700 pages long.

"The bibliography." His friend showed him a hastily scribbled list on a piece of paper that was crumpled at the edges. "It's messy, I was just cleaning it up."

"Your pen looks like its running out of ink."

"It did, I'm using another one."

"Hn." Tezuka reached for the Styrofoam cup and took a sip. It was black coffee, a little too sugary for his tastes, though.

Kajimoto paused, "Are you thirsty? I could get you one."

"Not necessary." Tezuka turned the page and put the cup down. "Did you read all of this?" he asked, tapping the book cover.

"No, only chapters 36, 24, and 38, the other stuff we don't need."

"That's reasonable." Tezuka turned the page again.

The rest of the hour was spent in silence.

-x-

The huge clock situated in the middle of the library chimed four. Many students had complained that the chimes disrupted their concentration, but no serious action was actually taken.

Kajimoto's Styrofoam cup of coffee was now empty. Although he didn't remember drinking any of it since Tezuka's arrival. "Don't you think we should stop now?" he inquired to the air. When Tezuka was reading, he heard nothing. Even if he was reading a very, very boring, not to mention very long communications encyclopedia.

Tezuka answered, unexpectedly, "We should." He closed the book and pushed it aside.

An awkward stillness followed.

"Why did you treat me to coffee yesterday?" now, why did that pop out of his mouth? Kajimoto waited for a "Hn" or more silence.

"I was thirsty." Tezuka adjusted his glasses. "It was polite to let you have some."

"…Oh." That was the second unexpected answer to a perfectly random question; maybe Tezuka did possess some humane qualities after all. Kajimoto began shoving papers into his folder.

"You dropped your pen."

"Thanks."

More silence.

They were packed now, but neither made a move to leave, finally, Kajimoto ventured, "Do you want to eat something?"

"Hn."

Kajimoto took the indifferent monosyllable as a yes.

-x-

It wasn't a date. Tezuka told himself. It couldn't be, or else if Inui found out, he would never hear the end of it. It was simply two people eating something together, how complicated could that be?

In Inui's mind, probably quite complicated.

"Tezuka?" Kajimoto's voice brought him back to the present.

"Huh?" he hated sounding so uninformed, it did not fit him.

"Are you going to order?" the waitress had stopped at their table, which was thankfully in the corner of the café where it drew less attention.

"Coffee, black, and a chocolate pastry." Tezuka took a halfhearted glance at the menu.

"You…eat sweets?"

"Occasionally." Why did Kajimoto sound so surprised? The last time Tezuka checked, he ate perfectly normal foods like everyone else, unlike Fuji…

Fuji. He was always there, loitering in the shadows of his mind, not demanding attention but getting attention anyway.

Everyone loved him. He could live without Tezuka. Fuji was tensai, after all.

But what about Tezuka? Another voice simultaneously sprung up inside his head, could he live without Fuji?

He could. He did.

But did he want to? The nagging irrational part of him argued, did you really want it to end up this way?

No.

If there was a way to kill off the irrational part of his subconscious, Tezuka would have gladly done it. He didn't need these thoughts. At least not now, if he was somewhere else, maybe, but not here.

"Tezuka?"

He looked up. Kajimoto was offering him a napkin. He took it, staring at his friend's fingers "Thank you."

Staring was not something Tezuka usually permitted himself to do, his grandfather had always said it was rude. But Fuji never minded. Actually he liked Tezuka staring at him. He had told Tezuka so more than once.

"Is something wrong?"

Tezuka shook his head. "No, I'm tired, that's all." Those four last words weren't needed, but he felt compelled to say them nonetheless.

This wasn't Fuji sitting in front of him. This was Kajimoto. But Kajimoto's fingers were a lot like Fuji's.

Kajimoto stared at his own fingers. And then at Tezuka's, lying three inches away, he interlaced them carefully, "There."

This was…Tezuka picked up his coffee cup with his free hand and drank. This was all Inui's fault.

"Can I have some?"

Tezuka relinquished his cup. Kajimoto drank some, and then put it down again.

-x-

"You look happy." Inui ventured during dinner. "Fuji called, with apologies that he couldn't attend your birthday party yesterday, he said that he already gave you a present." The statement ended in a question mark.

"Hn…" Wait, Fuji called, Tezuka froze, still in midaction of unwrapping his chopsticks, "What?"

"Fuji called." Inui repeated evenly, "He wants to have dinner with you."

"...When?" Tezuka asked softly.

"Next Saturday, if you can make it." Inui smirked, "You can refuse, you know, Tezuka, you and Kajimoto make a good couple,"

Tezuka sighed. There was no use asking Inui how he knew, there wasn't much use of getting angry either.

"Are you going to call him? He did leave a number."

Tezuka and Fuji. For now, it was Tezuka and Kajimoto. "Hn." he wondered how much worse things could get.