Disclaimer: Okay… quick and painless… Idon'townthemsothere!Happy,yousadists?

A/N: A shout-out to all the people who reviewed. You know who you are, and all of you personally rock my world!Thank you for brightening up one totally tired yaoi fangirl's dreary day. Kisses to all and... the third chapter of the Breath Chronicles!

Chapter Three: A Fool for another day

And I could stand here waiting, a fool for another day.

I don't suppose it's worth the price (worth the price) the price that I could pay.

But I'm thinking it over, anyway.

"Barely Breathing", Duncan Sheik

I pause in the middle of the doubles match versus Eiji and Oishi. Taka-san yelps as the ball bounces out of reach, but I smile. I search for him over the heads of the other members of the tennis club, standing on my tiptoes. I spot him, and he's watching the Inui-Kaidoh pair versus Momoshiro-Echizen pair.

Well. That can be remedied.

I call for a time-out, and Irai declares one, louder than necessary. Usually, I would find that tasteless and a waste of energy, to shout that loud, but now I am faintly thankful. I saunter over to Taka-san, who watches me with a wary, yet friendly eye. Across the net, I see Eiji cheering in "Victory!" while Oishi tries to shut him up. Cute. I sling an arm around Taka-san's neck and bend my head closer to his than necessary. His face immediately takes on a rosy blush, and not just from the heat. Oh dear. I thought he was over that silly crush. Inwardly, I sighed. I didn't mean to put him in a gender-bender just because I look like a girl. I mean… I don't think he's gay…

"What are you planning, Fuji?" His voice shakes slightly, but takes on that manic confident tone as he grips the racket tighter.

"A reverse formation, and then a few well-aimed serves to send Eiji scrambling." I say slyly, nudging him with my hip. From beneath my closed lids, I see Tezuka suck in his breath, and his eyes narrow, ever so slightly.

YES! A reaction from the great Tezuka Kunimitsu! Ten points to Fuji Syuusuke! Taka-san is speaking again, so I bend my head to hear better. I feel Tezuka's jealous gaze bore into my back.

"Ah… okay." He disentangles himself carefully. I'm surprised. Maybe he is over that little infatuation. I walk over and pick my racket up from the ground, knowing that my shorts hike up about two centimeters as I do, and my shirt falls slightly. Behind me, Taka-san and Irai give muted gasps in unison, and I grin, seeing Tezuka's mouth tighten in a grim line… ooh, he's in a vengeful mood today. Somebody's going to run laps for no reason …

The match goes by quickly. Even with my careful planning, Eiji and Oishi win with a large margin. 6-2, in their favor. I shake hands with Eiji and Oishi in turn, and walk beside the skipping Eiji, who goes to congratulate Inui and Kaidoh and tease Momo and Echizen. I don't say anything. I just smile sweetly, until Echizen goes, "We got a higher score, Fuji-sempai." Which is true. Their game ended 6-3, which isn't that big of a difference, depending on how you look at it. I beckon Echizen closer, and he approaches me like a hunter would approach a man-eating tiger with cubs. I put my arm around him, and whisper, into his seashell ear, "Is Momo taking you out for burgers later on? Like a date?" Which causes him to nearly snarl and jump away from me. But not before I see Tezuka's shoulders tighten in suspicion. I nearly giggle in amusement. He is SO easy to bait.

After practice, while I wait for him to finish dressing up, he talks to me.

"What were you doing out there?" he asks tensely, buttoning up his uniform top.

"Being friendly with my teammates." I say, nearly purring. I'm baiting him again, and he knows this. He doesn't reply and I purse my lips. The silence extends for almost an eternity.

"Saa…" I slide gracefully to my feet. I saunter over to him and smile, tilting my head to the side so I can see his face. Then I go around behind him, and lift up the back of his shirt, where he's already tucked it in his pants like the obsessive-compulsive neat freak he is. I slide my hands up over the smooth skin of his back, over his shoulder blades. I kneaded the space between them, delicately tracing patterns on his spine. To my surprise, he leaned into the touch, relaxing. I made my voice low and husky, and whispered. "Oh, Tezuka-san," I said, imitating one of his more pushy fangirls. "You have such tension in your upper back," here I softly made my fingers tiptoe over his skin, "What causes this, Tezuka-san?" He turns around to face me, and I feel a small shiver of anticipation run up my spine.

"You do." He bends down and my hands on his back suddenly fist as he captures my lips and I...

"BUCHOU! FU-UU-JII!" We crash down with satisfying thuds on the locker room floor at the sound of Eiji's voice through the glass of the (oh) steamed-up windows. He's rubbing at the glass, as if he could dissipate the mist from outside. He pounds at the door (thankfully locked) and Tezuka quickly disentangles himself from me, lifting me easily onto my feet and brushing off the dirt on the seat of my pants. I give a small angry huff, and he gives me a lopsided smile in return, which makes me want to kiss him. Instead, I smile in return and straighten up my shirt. I open the door for Eiji, who's practically red-faced. "Hi, Eiji," I say, but deep inside I'm torturing him in a hundred different ways that really, really hurt. He doesn't reply and instead rushes past me to his locker. I follow him at a slower pace, and find him cradling a toothpaste tube filled with bright purple stuff. "I'm sorry," he coos to the toothpaste (Banana-Grape-Bonanza!™-flavor) repeatedly, in the reverent tone used for babies and small children. I huff again, softer, and grab my bag.

"I'll wait for you outside, Tezuka. Bye, Eiji."

You CANNOT blame me for what happened inside the locker room. I'm a hormonally driven teenager for God's sake!

Tezuka and I have officially been a couple since last week. At least, official to those who care. I mentioned it to Yuuta (who probably passed this juicy little tidbit of gossip to his friend with the horrendous fashion sense and no tennis skill whatsoever) and to Eiji (who probably, no, SURELY revealed it to Oishi in the post-coital fugue they seem so fond on sharing), and Yumiko-neesan knows. I think Inui has a pretty good idea that we're an item, and it seems that he's rather amused by the whole thing.

Kunimitsu, on his part, has probably told… the whole of Nowheresville, population: 0. I think Atobe knows, and Tachibana-san from Foudomine. How they found out, though, I have no idea.

The point of this whole soliloquy of name-dropping is this: Tezuka Kunimitsu and I have been a couple for exactly a week and two days. That's 216 hours or 12960 minutes, or if you prefer something more detailed and complicated: 777600 seconds. And I have heard and learned nothing new about Tezuka, the man.

Which is kind of annoying, but to be expected. I mean, this is a guy with absolutely no people skills (but somehow, stellar leadership. Figure THAT out.), and a week or so is not enough time to get him to spill everything he's ever felt.

But I could expect maybe a small feeler of emotion. A tiny dot or a sliver of feeling. I get this: absolutely nothing.

By now, you should have realized that I am very, very desperate. Not to mention dancing on the safe side of horny. I might as well have: 'This guy needs to be fucked' tattooed on my forehead.

It's a nice house. A manicured lawn, neat flowers. A medium-sized car (his mom's, probably) and a jazzy sports car (possibly his father's). Japanese-style, it looked like from the outside. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There were calm footsteps, and the door opened, revealing a neatly-dressed woman in her mid-forties, with long dark hair neatly piled up on her head in a chignon. "Yes? Can I help you?" She smiled at me, neat rows of teeth and perfectly made-up lips.

"Hi. I'm a friend of Kunimitsu, from the tennis club. He left his notebook in the locker room this afternoon. I thought he needed it for an assignment so I dropped it on my way home." I smiled back at her, knowing that my lie was smooth and hole-free. Sure I was Kunimitsu's friend, but the notebook (world history, his favorite subject, no less!) I had snitched from his bag (and had searched for doodles that pertained to me. None, but I did see some amazing specimens of ukiyo-e style sketches he had done in ballpoint pen on the back of his notebook.). I was on my way home, but I informed Yumiko-neesan that I would probably be late. (Then I took a long detour, just to pass by the address I cunningly obtained from Inui.)

"Oh." She slid open the door gracefully. "Why, how thoughtful of you." She ushered me inside and gestured for me to sit down. I saw a glimpse of a koi pond through another shoji, which she pushed open further. "I am Tezuka Kiseki, Kunimitsu's mother. Thank you so much."

For a fearful three seconds I thought she would ask the notebook from me and send me on my merry way when there came an unmistakable sound of water boiling over.

"Oh!" She quickly stood and left the room in a brisk walk. "Kaede!" she called over her shoulder. "Show Fuji Syusuke-chan to Kunimitsu's room."

A small boy, maybe around six or so, came into the room, dragging an enormous blue elephant. He looked at me with eyes the same muted honey-gold as Kunimitsu's, and gestured for me to follow. Grabbing my bag, I obediently followed him up the stairs.

It was midway up when I realized that I never told Tezuka-san who I was.

The boy Kaede pointed out the second door on my left when we reached the second floor. I thanked him and he smiled at me, softly, with little dimples in creamy cheeks. I knocked on the said door and waited.

"Come in!" Kunimitsu called out. I breathed softly, one, two, and three… I pushed the door open. His back was turned to me, and he was rifling urgently through his bag. I pushed the door close behind me and secured it with the little latch. I tiptoed closer to him and leaned forward, securing him in a warm embrace as I placed the notebook securely on top of the rest.

"Tezuka-saaa-un," I whispered, purposely drawing out the honorific at the end. "You still have such tension in your upper back. Perhaps you would like me to rid you of it."

"Fuji." I shook my head, standing up. He pulled himself into a sitting position on his bed.

"Ah, ah, ah, Buchou," I murmured, shaking my finger at him. I push him down onto the bed, slowly but insistently, surely and irresistibly. "It's Syusuke."

(For the sake of kids like Kaede, I will eliminate the next few parts.)

Owari (Chapter Three)

So? Like it? Hate it? Want to kill me for movie rights for it? If you were a bottle, would you be green? Do you like paperclips? Are you a llama? Have you watched Jimmy Neutron? Are you sticking this out 'til the very, very end? Are you smiling? Would you like to jump? Are you reading this offline? Would you dedicate a fic to me? Do you think Tezuka's little brother is cute? Have you reviewed before? Do I sound incredibly hyper? Pink or Blue? Red or Green? Black or White? Diskettes or CD? Fuji or Tezuka? Do you think Eiji should jump Oishi or the other way around? Is Inui a pervert? Would you like a copy of the deleted scene? Leave a review saying so then, with your email addie, andI will try to get itto you! Is anyone willing to beta?Will you review or run away like a doggie with your tail between your leggies?