Here it is, the fluffy conclusion to this small ficlet of mine. I tried not to suffocate the story with sap, but I think I lost that battle. You have been warned. Enjoy!

Spoilers: Please be warned that there is mention of the Tezuka and Fuji three parter at the end of the series. If you haven't watched it, then you might want to do so before reading. There's no big revelations or threats to storyline, but you may want to experience the warm-fuzzies of the show first, is all.

The Second Notebook: Part 4

By: Whisper

The first thing that clued Tezuka in to the fact that his teammates were plotting his destruction was when Oishi begged out of closing the clubhouse because he had to take Kikumaru for a parfait. This wouldn't have aroused Tezuka's suspicions had Oishi not immediately turned and sought out Kaidoh, pulling the underclassman aside. Oishi was toying with the two forks of hair that always eluded the hair gel he used. The strategist only did that when he was unbearably uncomfortable. Kikumaru, by contrast, was running around, collecting Oishi's things and humming. Kikumaru only hummed when he was meddling. Obviously, Kikumaru was meddling through Oishi, who had only given in because Kikumaru had pouted.

To top it off, Tezuka was fairly sure Momoshiro was in on whatever plan Kikumaru was executing. Tezuka had seen Momo stop and talk with Fuji after the tensai's game against Kaidoh. Momoshiro was a nice guy, but he usually preferred to stay away from Fuji unless club business required it. It was all for the best as far as Tezuka was concerned. Fuji was a bad influence. He was a beautiful, moody, volatile, bad influence that Momo would do well to stay away from. But, despite all of this, Momo sought the tensai out and they had a brief conversation, during which Fuji's sharp eyes had turned and focused on Tezuka. Tezuka knew this because he felt Fuji's gaze in his stomach. It was a fluttery feeling, like he was drowning one organ at a time. It was a feeling Tezuka didn't know how to handle and, as such, he avoided it whenever possible. It would work, too, if Fuji weren't so insistent on maintaining a constant vigil over him.

Tezuka and Fuji were friends. They'd been friends since freshman year, when Fuji discovered Tezuka's injury. Tezuka had come to confide in Fuji and to find comfort in his presence. Everything had been wonderful until Fuji started looking at him with slightly wider eyes and a smile that tilted downward a little bit on the left. Fuji wanted to play doubles; not tennis-doubles, but life-doubles. Tezuka didn't play doubles, he played singles. Singles was safe; you didn't have to worry that your partner would destroy the game. In singles, you looked after yourself. Tezuka knew he was too selfish to play doubles with anyone, even Fuji, so he did the only appropriate thing: he ignored it. Eventually Fuji would give up, or so the theory went.

His teammates were ruining everything and Fuji was the most stubborn creature on the face of the planet.

"Oh, Buchou, you're still here! Isn't Oishi supposed to close up?" Momoshiro jogged into the clubhouse, Echizen at his heals.

"Momo-senpai hurry up or I'm stealing your bike and getting burgers without you." Echizen waited at the door, slouching against the frame and looking very much like an upset hamster.

"I just need to get the Mamushi's bag for him. He was late to training with Inui-senpai and forgot it. As the acting team manager, it's my responsibility." Momo grinned back at Echizen then hefted a bag that contained Kaidoh's school uniform and textbooks. "Here we go. Night Buchou. You should be outta here soon, Fuji-senpai's just doing a cool down run."

Tezuka nodded. He'd never been one for words and right now the only thing he could think of to say in reply to Momoshiro's comment was, "my ass." That would never do. Echizen seemed to sense Tezuka's agitation and pulled Momoshiro out of the clubhouse with a small nod in Tezuka's direction. Tezuka made a mental note to spare Echizen the extra set of laps he was going to assign the team at tomorrow morning's practice.

&-&

The talk with Oishi-senpai had been awkward, and not just in a "we're talking about a very personal subject" way, but in a "we're being watched from behind that tree can we please move somewhere discrete" kind of way. Kaidoh understood that Kikumaru liked to follow Oishi around. Kaidoh, himself, had a penchant for quietly observing Inui-senpai when the older teen wasn't looking, but he always respected Inui-senpai's privacy. He was not a stalker. Nevertheless, Kikumaru remained behind his tree until the conversation was through. Kaidoh wasn't sure who put Oishi up to the talk, but it was evident from senpai's fidgeting that Oishi would rather not be talking about this particularly topic.

"Ne Kaidoh," he said, maybe four or five times before moving on, "when Eiji and I…when we started our doubles team, it was hard at first."

Kaidoh nodded. He didn't really have anything to say; he and Inui were certainly not the Golden Pair (no one whispered about him and Inui-senpai doing illicit things in the supply shed, for one) and had never aspired to be.

Oishi continued to fidget. "I didn't really think I could trust him at first. He was so- bouncy, and everyone liked him and I was really shy and…I'm rambling, sorry." Oishi-senpai scratched the back of his head, took a deep breath, and moved on. "What I wanted to say to you was that I understand. It's hard, playing doubles. You forge a strong connection with your partner and sometimes it gets…awkward. You can always come talk to me."

Kaidoh bowed and rumbled out a solemn, "Thank you Oishi-senpai" before walking quickly away. He could hear Kikumaru rustling in the bushes and, the sooner he was out of sight, the sooner his energetic senpai could stop trying to hide. It was sweet of Oishi to want to help Kaidoh and Inui's doubles game, but there really wasn't much that could be done at the moment. The main problem wasn't even that Inui had kissed him- after the initial shock had worn off, Kaidoh had decided he'd rather enjoyed the moment- the problem was that Kaidoh's mother knew. She knew and she wasn't going to shut up about it. Ever. And, even if she did, Hazue was "scarred for life" and mentioned the kiss every ten minutes when their father wasn't in earshot. It was beyond embarrassing, it was mortifying.

&-&

Fuji wasn't nervous- he was terrified. The tensai was used to nice, predictable ventures. He was used to winning. Whenever Fuji undertook anything with Tezuka involved, there was always a wild element that Fuji couldn't account for. Said element was usually something that made Fuji's heart race at 143 kilometers an hour and served to freeze the tensai in his tracks. It could be something as simple as the wind rustling Tezuka's hair just so, or as large as Fuji walking in while Tezuka was still in his after-shower towel. Fuji was sure Tezuka knew, which was why the buchou had been avoiding him. Fuji didn't blame him but still, it hurt a little. Tezuka was supposed to be his friend, they were supposed to talk about things that went wrong, not just walk away from them.

Fuji waited near the courts for Momo and Echizen to leave the clubhouse with Kaidoh's bag; that would be the signal. From there, Fuji planned to enter and strip immediately, take a shower, and approach Tezuka in little else but a towel and water droplets. It wasn't as good as something Inui might've concocted, but it was the best Fuji could do on forty five minutes' notice and without Kikumaru around to run for supplies. True Fuji could've asked one of the freshmen to fetch things for him, but he didn't want the bright eyed youths (who were more than a little afraid of him) entwined in his affairs. Like Tezuka, Fuji was a private person. Unlike Tezuka, Fuji wasn't an emotional oyster.

Momo and Echizen left the clubhouse, chatting about burgers and new racquet strings. Fuji waited another few minutes then casually sauntered toward the clubhouse. When he opened the door, Tezuka was sitting on one of the benches, legs crossed, foot bobbing slightly with impatience. "Gomen Tezuka, I didn't want to get any cramps. I overstretched a bit trying to return Kaidoh's Boomerang."

In reply, Tezuka raised an eyebrow. His foot ceased its mid-air tapping.

Fuji smiled like nothing was wrong and Tezuka hadn't just non-verbally called his bluff. "I'll just go wash up."

"You'll have to shower at home, I'm locking the clubhouse." Buchou stood and turned to gather his things.

"Ne Tezuka," Fuji hesitated, biting his lip. So much for the plan. "Can we talk?"

"On the way home, I have homework that needs to be done." Tennis bag in place, Tezuka reached down and handed Fuji his own bag, already packed. "Ka-san is making manicotti for dinner."

Fuji accepted his bag with a genuine smile. It had been at least two months since Tezuka had invited him over for dinner. "She's such a wonderful cook. I look forward to it. But, Tezuka…" Fuji debated just leaving things as they were. If Tezuka was inviting him over for dinner, then their friendship was, despite Fuji's many spiteful acts this past week, returning back to its scheduled course. That could be good enough, at least for right now.

"Fuji." Tezuka was waiting at the door.

"Oh, sorry, I was just thinking." Fuji trotted outside of the building and, just before he turned to smile at Tezuka, he caught a flicker of something in the bushes.

&-&

"Momo-senpai, your elbow is in my armpit." Echizen scowled and kicked at the dirt. They were supposed to be eating hamburgers, but noooo, Momo-senpai wanted to spy on Fuji and Buchou, who were just locking up the clubroom and walking home. They did this all the time. What was the big deal?

"Be quiet or they'll hear you!" Momo whispered, placing two hands on Echizen's head and pushing down. "They're coming!"

This was stupid. Momo-senpai had been spending too much time with Kikumaru-senpai and had obviously caught some sort of brain disease. "Fuji-senpai probably knows we're here. His eyesight is scary." Echizen began to rise but was pulled down again.

"Shhhh!" Momo pulled Echizen into a headlock and continued to watch the two upperclassmen while Echizen growled.

"Momo-senpai I'm going to tell Kaidoh-senpai you're working for Inui-senpai."

Momoshiro let Echizen go with a scream which promptly attracted the attention of Fuji and Tezuka. Fuji waved. Tezuka ignored them. "Echizen," Momo growled.

"Mada mada da ne." Echizen adjusted his cap and brushed dirt off of himself. "Come on, you owe me burgers."

&-&

Inui had been 79 percent certain that Kaidoh wasn't going to show up for training. At the very least (38 percent alternate probability), Kaidoh would insist that Inui leave the premises immediately and never return. When Kaidoh softly hissed, "You're late, senpai," Inui had no recourse but to stand and stare at his kouhai. Kaidoh blinked and began to stretch. "Senpai, I need your help."

"H-hai." Inui moved mechanically over to put his hands on Kaidoh's shoulders, helping him to stretch forward over his legs. "Ano, Kaidoh, about yesterday-"

"It's okay senpai. I'm sorry my mother made such a big deal about it." There was a 12 percent increase in the blood flowing through Kaidoh's cheeks. It made Inui's ability to resist the urge to kiss his kohai drop to 68 percent; a 20 percent decrease. "Senpai, you're pinching my shoulders."

"Ah, gomen Kaidoh. I was thinking." Inui smiled down at the top of Kaidoh's head, knowing that the younger boy wouldn't look up to meet his gaze. Kaidoh was probably going to wait until the end of their training session to tell Inui off.

"Don't think too hard, senpai. Ka-san will be upset if you analyze yourself to death." Kaidoh gave a rare smile and began his jog. Inui stared after him, relishing in the rare (14 percent chance) occasion of Kaidoh telling a joke. Perhaps things would work out after all.

&-&

"Ne, Tezuka, could we talk for a moment, please?" It was the third time Fuji had asked since they'd come up to Tezuka's room to do homework. Tezuka suspected that Fuji would not take kindly to being delayed again. It was time Tezuka face the inevitable conversation.

"Yes Fuji?" Tezuka tried to sound patient and not as awkwardly frightened as he felt. This conversation was going to ruin everything.

The tensai let out a deep breath and opened his eyes, revealing deep pools of aquarian blue. "First, I would like to ask that you hear what I have to say, no interruptions. Promise?" Tezuka raised a brow but nodded his consent. "We have known one another since our freshman year. Since then we have become…close, yes?" Fuji's fingers began to fidget with the hem of his uniform shirt. "It is difficult being your friend, Tezuka. You're so closed off when everyone else is watching." Fuji dropped his gaze though his eyes remained open. "I sometimes wonder if you're not pleased to be seen with me, to have people know that we are- were close."

Tezuka opened his mouth to protest but found the sight of Fuji, confused and alone, had destroyed his power of speech. He could just let it pass, as most of Fuji's moods did, but something in Fuji's desperately quiet words resonated within him. Tezuka couldn't help the hand that fell onto the clasped ones in Fuji's lap. As buchou, it was Tezuka's responsibility to make sure his players were in the finest condition, both physically and mentally. This display was a result of his duty and nothing more. And even if he did feel something of what Fuji seemed to be feeling, even if he'd felt it for as long as he'd seen the beautiful boy, there wasn't any reason to pursue it. Fuji was fascinated with him because of his injury, no more. Once Fuji learned that Tezuka might never play again at full strength and that the match Fuji craved was an impossibility, Fuji's interest would wane. Tezuka had a broken arm; he didn't fancy a heart to match.

"Fuji," Tezuka began, but was cut off by a trembling finger to his lips.

"Please don't tell me I'm being silly, Tezuka. Yuuta tells me that often enough." The finger traced Tezuka's lips; first the top, then the bottom. "I'm not asking for a confession of love, I don't even know if I could give one, myself, at this point. I would just like- something from you, even if it's just a smile every now and then." Fuji's hand moved to cup Tezuka's face, turning it so that the buchou was forced to look the tensai directly in the eyes.

"Fuji, my arm is getting worse." It took all of his breathe to say it, but he'd finally done it. "I doubt it'll make it through to nationals. If I come up against a difficult opponent, that'll be the end of it for me." Fuji's hand was still guiding his gaze and Tezuka wanted, more than anything, to look away in that moment. He didn't want to see the concern, and something softer, floating through the tensai's gaze. Tezuka didn't want pity. He wasn't particularly sure what he wanted at this point, which was why it was better to commit to nothing.

"I don't like you because of the way you play tennis," Fuji sighed, removing his hand. "I like you because you do stupid things, like wrecking your arm to help Echizen realize his potential and getting Oishi out of detention when he's late to class because of Kikumaru. Even if you'd never picked up a racquet in your life, you'd still stand out from everyone else." Fuji looked away then, toward a photo that stood on Tezuka's nightstand. "This is from our freshman year."

The photo was of Tezuka and Fuji standing in front of Yamato-buchou. Fuji was smiling and tugging Tezuka toward the camera while Yamato stood with his signature good-natured stoicism. That year had been alternately the best and worst of Tezuka's life. He kept the photo to remind himself of it and because, while Fuji was prone to snapping photos at random, the tensai rarely allowed photos to be taken of him without prior notice. Fuji in his natural state was breathtaking, even at twelve years old. Tezuka felt a tapping at his temple.

"Ne Tezuka, what are you thinking?" Fuji's eyes were closed again, but he hadn't assumed his false smile.

Tezuka stared at the photo in silence a bit longer before admitting the truth of his thoughts. "I was thinking that, in three years, you're still too beautiful for any man to lay claim to." Tezuka closed his eyes and turned his face to the ground. That was, quite possibly, the most idiotic thing he'd ever said. Why did he even bother answering? Why couldn't he have just stayed silent, or lied, or…

"Arigatou Kunimitsu." Fuji's lips pressed against Tezuka's cheek and the world ceased to move.

&-&

After training, Inui walked Kaidoh home. The air was chilly and Inui was able to claim that he was supervising his kohai's jog-free return home. Neither of them believed it for a moment. The truth was that Inui didn't want Kaidoh to leave his presence because, once the mamushi was gone, Inui was fairly certain he wouldn't see his kohai again outside of tennis. Kaidoh agreed to have Inui along, which was at once exhilarating and nerve-wracking. "Ne, Kaidoh."

"Yes senpai?" Kaidoh stepped up to his door.

"I would like to apologize for making things difficult for you. I did not think my actions through thoroughly." Inui bowed deeply. He considered begging, but Kaidoh wouldn't be moved by such a pitiful display.

"Senpai, it's okay. Ka-san will settle down and Hazue will get used to you. Just don't tell Tou-san until I'm able to live on my own." Kaidoh's expression was so solemn, it took Inui an extra beat to register that Kaidoh was, in his own way, giving his consent to move their previously professional relationship in a more intimate direction. This defied any and all of Inui's data.

"You're not angry?"

"No."

"Disgusted?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Senpai, it's cold. Come inside. Ka-san will make cocoa." Kaidoh pulled on Inui's sleeve, dragging the data collector into the entryway. "Tou-san is away on business the rest of the week." Kaidoh's cheeks flushed 28 percent brighter than usual. "Ka-san wants you to come to dinner until Tou-san returns."

"Please tell her it would be my pleasure." Inui looked around at the house windows, making sure the runt wasn't peeking at them through the curtains. Satisfied that no one was watching (he was 96 percent sure), Inui moved forward and ghosted his lips against Kaidoh's, brightening his kohai's blush by an additional 5 percent.

"Kawaii!" came the distinctly feminine call from inside. Four percent was apparently all the probability a Kaidoh needed to succeed.

"It would seem your family is going to render my data useless, Kaidoh." Inui placed a warm hand to Kaidoh's stony cheek. "I think I will enjoy the challenge." Prepared to deal with whatever the Kaidoh family had in store for him- more specifically whatever evil devices Hazue had constructed to keep Inui away from Kaidoh- the third year took Kaidoh's hand and gestured for the mamushi to move toward the nearby cedar shoe rack. Hand in hand, they moved, breaking their grasp only long enough to remove their shoes and for Inui to wave, teeth flashing and glasses glinting, at Hazue.

"Okaeri," Kaidoh called, his eyes remaining glued to the floor though he never let go of Inui's hand.

"God, not him again," Hazue grumbled, slinking upstairs toward his room. "Dinner's done. You go; I've lost my appetite."

"How unfortunate that you won't be able to join us," Inui said through his still glistening teeth. "If you're not feeling well, I'll make sure Kaidoh-san has plenty of recovery juice recipes. Inui gave Kaidoh's hand a quick squeeze before they set off toward the kitchen. Inui was going to make some Extra Special Titanium Power Retribution Juice. There was only a one percent chance that Hazue would be able to digest it in comfort. It was going to be beautiful.

AN: So...what did you think? I know the end kind of fizzles, but if it didn't fizzle, the end was never going to come. So, fizzle-ige it was. But, at the very least, it's done. Thoughts?