A/N: Sorry for the delay. School is rearing its ugly arse again. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. You guys make my day.

Chapter 6: Into the Lion's Den

Ryoma cut class the next day. He went to school but stayed inside the library, hoping to distract himself from Fuji-related thoughts with some of his more demanding schoolwork. His course had enough math and other number-heavy subjects in his curriculum to make any normal college student weep for him. Ryoma wasn't particularly inclined to math, but he excelled in it. Math was a logical subject. It required great concentration and many convoluted processes but at least no matter how complicated the problems were, he'd always be able to understand it in the end.

Unlike people. Complicated, twisted, irrational people. Yes, people were most definitely overrated.

He suddenly remembered an incredibly insipid pun Momoshiro had come up with in one of their sparsely distributed vodka sessions some time before Ryoma entered second year college.

flashback

"Why can't people talk like books?" he asked, after recovering from the burning sensation of Absolut Vanilia sliding down his throat.

"That's a stupid question, Echizen," Momoshiro answered, as he poured another shot glass of the strong, tasty alcohol. "Books don't talk, they speak volumes to you." He drank the vodka straight, put down the glass, and blinked a few times before realizing what he just said. Then he burst into hysterical laughter.

"Ahahaha.. Speak volumes – book, get it? Ahahahaha…"

Ryoma sent an imploring look at the ceiling, suddenly questioning his taste in drinking companions. Momoshiro was mind-nuked as far as people who'd imbibed seven shots of vodka and three bottles of beer go, but it was too early for Ryoma to deal with such banalities without being raving drunk himself.

He did wonder though, if the hypothetical concept of book talk applied to people. Talking was a lot like running on a treadmill, plenty of movement and effort, but going absolutely nowhere.

He didn't realize he had said the words out loud until Momoshiro stopped laughing long enough to wheeze out a reply. "Yeah. Imagine a world where all we have to do is read people's minds to communicate."

For some perverted reason, the first thing that popped up in Ryoma's mind at those words was a certain kitsune-like tensai he was very familiar with. A horrible image of a smiling Fuji reciting Ryoma's thoughts verbatim made the tiny hairs at the back of Ryoma's neck stand up on end.

"No thank you," he said after a delayed beat, nose crinkling in distaste. " I'd rather stick to talking."

"Coming from you, that's saying something."

Ryoma poured himself another shot. "I just don't want my mind to be read by certain people."

"In Echizen talk, "certain people" is synonymous to Fuji-senpai."

The shot glass in Ryoma's hand stopped midway to his mouth and he threw Momo a dirty look. "In Echizen talk, mentioning certain people's names is synonymous with a lot of pain."

Momoshiro smirked. "You're such a drama queen Echizen."

"And apparently you're not drunk enough yet."

"Heh." The dunk-smash specialist stuck his tongue out at him. "Wouldn't you love to know what goes on in Fuji-senpai's mind though?"

"Even if I could read Fuji-senpai's mind, I wouldn't understand it."

"Of course." Momo paused, eyeing Echizen knowingly for a brief period before speaking again. " YOU of all people can attest to that."

Ryoma responded by finishing off his vodka.

end flashback

Irked with the unwarranted trip down memory lane, Ryoma shook his head and quickly chose a spot beside the window overlooking the gardens. He sat down, wanting to drive all painful thoughts from his brain via continuous assault of numbers and formulas as soon as possible. He pulled out his discrete math textbook and began solving some problems on permutations.

An hour later, he had only finished three problems. He looked distastefully at the crumpled sheets of yellow paper in front of him. Every single one of them had doodles of smiley faces and jagged scrawls of the words burgers, little prince, and fox.

Frustrated, Ryoma leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He remembered Atobe's words.

"Give him what you have in exchange for what you lack. You can be afraid and try or you can just be afraid."

He looked outside the window and into the Social Sciences Building, which housed the Psychology department.

Then he stood up, gathered his things and walked out of the library.

This was stupid. Ryoma had been standing for a whole ten minutes in front of the Psychology department, his hand making a remarkable pattern of reaching for the knob, hesitating, pulling his hand back and repeating the whole cycle.

The door was made of ordinary oak, with the plaque of Psychology Department at the center. It was a simple, unremarkable door but Ryoma was intimidated by it. It might as well be made of molten rock with the words "Residence of Jack the Ripper" written in blood on the plaque.

And he would be walking into it.

For what?

For answers.

To what?

He didn't know, nor was he willing to find out. But he had to, didn't he? He needed to find out why Fuji had stayed on his trail for as long as he did. He needed to find out why he let Fuji plant himself in his mind, even as he pushed him away.

He needed closure. He needed to put this game to an end.

So pushing aside the last of his misgivings, he opened the door and stepped inside the room.

The first thing that Ryoma noticed was the depressing whiteness of the entire place. White walls, fluorescent lights, and even white couches. It looked disturbingly like the lobby of an asylum. But then again, this was the psychology department, and perhaps this was their idea of appropriate ambiance.

The other thing he noticed was the absence of teachers. Only the secretary was there, typing away. She didn't even notice Ryoma.

He approached the secretary behind the desk. "Excuse me, is Fuji-sensei in?"

She glanced up irritably before pointing to a sign on the desk. "Can't you read?"

Ryoma eyes veered towards a makeshift sign haphazardly pasted on the bulletin board. Academic Convocation today at the Iwasaki Theater, 1600 H to 2000 H. Attendance of all full-time professors is required.

Oh. He didn't know whether to be disappointed or relieved. Mumbling a quick "sumimasen" to the irate secretary, he turned and walked back.

He opened the door and nearly did a double take when he saw Fuji standing there, a container of sushi in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other. Fuji's surprised expression mirrored Ryoma's for a moment before resuming its characteristic polite smile.

"Echizen," he acknowledged warmly. "What a pleasant surprise. I missed you in class today."

Ryoma recovered from his surprise. "Fuji-sensei, what are you doing here? Isn't there an academic convocation going on?"

"I'm just a part-time teacher. I'm not required to go."

"I see."

For a few seconds, the sounds of the secretary's typing filled the silence. For some reason, Ryoma found himself staring at his shoes, the words he wanted to say deserting him.

Fuji broke the awkwardness. "I hate to be nosy Echizen, but why are you here?"

Good question. Why was he here? That's what he was about to find out right?

Right. Ryoma worked out a verbal response. "I want to clarify something with you."

"Oh?" Fuji raised one fine eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

Ryoma shifted his weight, still not meeting Fuji's eyes. "Sort of."

Fuji studied Ryoma curiously before smiling. "…Saa, let's head into the faculty lounge then."

TBC

Post A/N: The next chapter will be the last. It will also fall under an 'M'rating (ooh, am I promising smut? Why, yes I am. XP) , which means it won't be showing up in the default page of FFN.

On another note: Thrill pair fans, there's a 'FujiRyo Buttfucking Revolution' going on in Livejournal, and it's just overflowing with FujiRyo material—fics, pics, doujinshi links, song links, porn and many more. You don't need an LJ to access it, because it's a public post. See my profile for the link.