Disclaimer: I don't own Tennis no Oujisama/Prince of Tennis and the title, well, at least three-quarters of it…

P.R. no 2: A big, huge, gignormous THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. Hope you like this chapter. Oh, and I forgot to mention last time that Seishun Gakuen and all of the other schools are now high schools instead of middle schools.

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Façade: His and His Circumstances

--Chapter One--

Fuji

Exactly why the object of his obsession turned out to be a person who spoke in sentence fragments, had an incredible lack of self-expression, and wore a poker face even when they were not playing poker was beyond even the ingenious Fuji Syusuke himself.

Exactly why he became obsessed was an entirely different story.

Maybe it was because he let his emotions run away with him. Perhaps it wasbecause Tezuka, even as he was being toyed with, was taking advantage of him as well, or possibly because really truly felt that way about Tezuka. Loved him, that is, but whatever it was, even Fuji himself didn't know the answer.

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Tezuka

He had found out the new boy's full name from Oishi.

"It's Fuji Syusuke." His friend had seemed quite animated. "Rumor has it that he's been playing tennis a long time too."

So now Tezuka knew the name and was unknowingly allowed a glimpse of the would-be prodigy's strength, but besides that, he knew little else. He didn't understand any of it. He didn't understand Fuji Syusuke at all. The only thing he understood about the cerulean-eyed boy, or at least so it seemed was how Fuji always watched him.

He was used to being watched and read, both inside and outside of tennis. But almost no one read him correctly, so that was all right.

They still did not talk, because the opportunity never came up, and Tezuka certainly wasn't that type to start idle conversation.

So he too, watched Fuji, much closer than he had watched anyone else in a long time, and enjoyed (as much as he hated to admit it) the unexpected warmth of the other's eyes on him.

The warmth he would learn to crave and fear.

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Fuji

When Fuji wanted to learn things about certain people, he was usually the one to take the first move; he liked to think of it as a game of chess. While it was true that the latter side to take offence had more advantages as far as observing their opponent went, Fuji didn't like to wait, nor did Tezuka seem like the type of person to take the initiative.

The first thing he would have to do, in this case, would be trying to talk to a human wall. Inui Sadaharu, who had seemingly become his unofficial tour guide into the ever so complex mind of Tezuka Kunimitsu overnight, warned him over and over about trying to reach such a goal.

"It's like trying to talk to a clothed Michelangelo statue with glasses." Inui said wearily. "We've all tried, and pretty much gotten nowhere, trust me, Fuji-kun."

"Who's 'we'?" Fuji said.

"Me, Kikumaru, Kawamura. His various fangirls from all three grades. I'd give you their names, but that'd take forever."

"Oh."

Yumiko, his older sister, who had just recently graduated from a nearby culinary institute, had packed him one of her famous sandwiches that day, but for some reason, Fuji didn't feel like eating. He broke the bread in half and offered one portion to Inui, "Want some?"

"There's a 84 percent chance that you don't believe a word I just said." Inui took the sandwich from him and set his notebook aside.

Fuji quirked a rather amused eyebrow, "…Something like that."

"But it's true." Inui bit into the sandwich, "The only person that Tezuka would voluntarily talk to is Yamato-buchou, and Oishi-kun sometimes, if they walk home together."

"Is that all part of your precious data too?" Fuji finally tore off a piece of bread and put it into his own mouth, "It all can be changed, right, Inui-kun? Like, somewhere in that notebook of yours, you must have the fact that Kikumaru-kun wears size 6 shoes, he's not going to wear size 6 forever, it's all going to be eventually be changed."

Inui looked surprised. "How did you…" his voice trailed off meaningfully. Did you read my notebook?

Fuji shrugged, "I saw his shoes in the locker room." No, I didn't read your notebook, if I did, I would have picked out a more sensitive piece of data.

"I see." The boy with the thick-rimmed glasses nodded knowingly Suddenly, Inui seemed more respectful of him. "Before lunch, Tezuka has Biology, the classroom's the third one down the hall. He usually comes out this door. You could ask him to join us."

"Us?" Fuji blinked, slightly surprised.

"You don't think I'm going to leave you two alone with an opportunity of a lifetime at stake, do you?" Inui smirked. "But don't worry, I'll stay perfectly silent, and there's a 63 percent chance nothing will happen anyway."

Fuji smiled confidently. "Don't blame me if your calculations turn out to be inaccurate, Inui-kun."

"My calculations are never wrong." Inui returned decisively, "But then, there's a first for everything. Speaking of which, here he comes, Fuji-kun."

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Tezuka

When he neared them, the two boys sitting down in the clearing next to the science building immediately clammed up. That was his first clue that he was in danger. If not exactly danger, well, then something equivalent.

Inui Sadaharu. Fuji Syusuke. The former caused enough havoc by himself (and that notebook of his), joined by the latter, well, what troubles were ahead of him, Tezuka couldn't even began to fathom.

"Ne, Tezuka-kun, I know you're probably in a hurry to go off and train or run laps by yourself, but wouldn't it hurt if you join us for a little while and eat first?" Fuji asked.

Judging by the plastic sandwich wrap by the new boy's feet and the metal tin that lay forgotten a few feet away, it was clear that they had already finished eating.

Tezuka's gaze shifted from Fuji to Inui and finally back to Fuji again. The smiling face told him nothing, likewise, the face shielded by the infamous notebook and glasses did not tell him very much either. Still, he sensed that this whole setup was not what it appeared to be. "…I suppose." He at last relented and sat down next to Inui. The three of them now formed a sort of a scalene triangle.

Now feeling the slightest bit unnerved, and that emotion didn't come to him easily, Tezuka unwrapped his own lunch, to find sukiyaki from last night's dinner.

He stole a glance at Inui to see that the data specialist was busily scribbling away. Why was it that his misgivings kept increasing the longer he sat there? "Is there something you needed to discuss with me, both of you?" the question was asked in a desperate attempt to bring the situation back in control.

"Oh, come on, Tezuka-kun," Fuji slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "We're out of class now, do you always have to talk like a sixty-year-old professor? Try to act your age for once!"

Always…?

Considering the almost timid passing glances (on his part anyway) and the fact that they had never had an official conversation until today, how in the world did Fuji know how he always talked like? Maybe Inui told him.

Tezuka nodded, and bit into a piece of tempura because he could think of nothing else to say.

"That looks good, may I have some?"

For more reasons than one, he detested rhetorical questions. Tezuka nodded again and sat his lunch down and pushed it in Fuji's direction.

"...It's kind of weird saying this, but do you think I could borrow your chopsticks as well, Tezuka-kun? I really don't like getting my fingers dirty." Fuji inquired, ever so politely.

Inui's face was still largely hidden by the notebook, and the Algebra II textbook that appeared out of nowhere, but Tezuka could have sworn that the boy was laughing, or smirking, or both.

"…It's...leftovers." Tezuka doubted that there would ever be two words that were as stupid as those two that had just left his mouth. It didn't even have any bearings on the current topic of discussion.

The cerulean orbs stared unblinkingly back at him, challenging, he thought. "I don't care." Fuji shrugged one shoulder indifferently to emphasize his point.

"Here." Tezuka relinquished his chopsticks and for a minute, their fingers brushed, and remained in contact for a second longer than they should.

"Thanks." Fuji deftly speared the piece of tempura that Tezuka had bitten into earlier and ate what remained of it. After swallowing, he smiled, and gave the lunch tin and chopsticks back to Tezuka, and said, "It's good, even if it is leftovers."

That was where curiosity ended and fear began. Tezuka stood up abruptly, leaving his lunch uneaten, "I have to go. Please excuse me, Fuji, Inui."

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Fuji

"Nice going. I think you scared him off." Inui commented rather dryly. "Tezuka sat down for a duration of ten minutes, and spoke a total of twenty-two words, and three complete sentences, I still think my calculations were correct."

"This time they were, maybe." Fuji returned airily. "But we have to start somewhere."

The pencil scratching that had been going on during this whole conversation stopped unexpectedly. Inui slapped his notebook shut and stared at him strangely. "By 'we' you mean…"

There was an echo of words past, but this time, there was no answer to give. "I mean Tezuka-kun and I, of course, Inui-kun."

Inui touched a hand to his glasses, causing them to glint somewhat sinisterly. "I see."

But the other's tone clearly told Fuji that the other didn't see at all. That was all right with him. He'd be worried if Inui did see.

His twisted game began there and would continue on until it most unfortunately became life.