"Echizen-senpai, why are you staring at your cellphone?"

Unsynchronized click-clacks paused in their tracks as the object in question thought about her response. Nabiki looked hard at the rectangular shape of her laptop in an attempt to gain coherence of thought. So far, it was a disastrous failure. She had not realized that the bulk part of her attention had been directed to the portable phone which rested on the slight dip in the grass beside her foot, snug as a gun.

"No reason." Nabiki finally replied without looking up, and saw an evident frown form on the regular's face in her peripheral vision.

"Senpai." He pressed closer, so near that she could feel his shadow on her back. "Ever since that incident with the Hyotei student last Tuesday, you've not been yourself. Did he threaten you because you won that physics contest?" A crevice formed between his handsome eyes, causing his glasses to slip down his nose.

That remote allusion to Atobe Keigo caused an indescribable spark to ignite inside of her. Nabiki had encountered an asymptote on the evening of their encounter. Although evidently frustrated by the older male's colossal ego, she had felt compelled by her own curiousity to construct a model just for him— an elusive being that both intrigued and displeased her to a large extent. Despite the prevalent social convention of disregarding first impressions with conscious effort, Nabiki held onto the otherwise fleeting memory with all that she had. There was something peculiar about the way he carried himself. Charisma perhaps, or some other mysterious power that possessed the capabilities of toying with one's state of mind. Whatever the case may be, Nabiki had found herself an interesting test subject. She would create the model of his existence as a project to conquer the unpredictable human "soul." It was going to be one hell of an adventure.

Unfortunately, none of the first generation functions tested was even remotely close to the anticipated outcome. The conclusion reached could not have been more obvious: she needed more data ( increased frequency of contact with the test subject). At this point, the child sighed— a soft, humming sound. How…tiresome.

"Senpai?"

"Aniki will assign you laps, Hanbei, if you don't hurry." Nabiki said at last. The tennis courts had become quiet again; a sign that indicated the first practice session was already over. She started to type again, with more focus this time. The afternoon sun showed no signs of fatigue, and its rays continued to lick her arms and hands ferociously. Only shadows and the sound of the tennis club's members hard at work kept her company.

-080-

Atobe had the vague feeling that he was putting himself in a dangerous situation. Posed at the third floor window of Hyotei Academy's main school building, the affluent youth was deep in thought. His lean body, sculpted by years of tennis, showcased its glamorous sex appeal without showing a hint of extra skin. In perfect honesty, the Atobe heir could have been a page taken straight out of Vogue. He rested both arms on the windowsill, and breathed in the familiar smell of his magnificent school. Not far off in the distance, Hyotei's tennis courts were also bustling with activity.

He had not gone to practice today, and had left Oshitari with the excuse of feeling unwell to take to their captain. It was useless to play when your head was not in the game, but floating among the clouds. Atobe shut the window, and returned to his seat in the classroom. The teachers were having a meeting this afternoon, so no one was around. His thoughts were unorganized blurs of activity, with their centers being a child that he had just met in person some days earlier. It did not occur to Atobe that he would enjoy their conversation together. Although she was incredibly witty, her stubbornness had also caused him great displeasure. Yet, he found himself musing over her last words like an archaeologist who had just discovered new artifacts. Egocentric speech, ahn? He was no child.

She had surprised him, even if only by a slight margin, and became interesting. He sometimes wanted to see her again, just to feel the thrill of another storm. Their exchanges were different from playing tennis. Her frequent references to constants, differential equations, and other mathematical concepts created another universe outside of his continuum. He would feel refreshed afterwards, as if bathed by the first desert rain after a long period of drought. She would provide him with a unique experience that only left him thirsty for more. Atobe leaned back in his chair. This was starting to become an addiction of sorts. However, another one of the King's redeeming qualities was that he never lost control and was always in full possession of his faculties.

A sudden ringing interrupted his thoughts momentarily. Atobe reached for his phone instinctively. There was a message.

Senpai, would you accept the premise that ethics and morals are two separate human constructs?

Short, annoying, concise, and thought-provoking. She could have at least put more words on the screen. But, didn't he enjoy the challenge of deciphering her intentions? She had objectified him, made him into a laboratory experiment. Atobe was interested. Her emotionless wall, did it have enough power to stand up against nuclear artillery? What was his approach then? Why the hell was he so captivated by her intellect? Was she really that different from the rest?

That depends. Do you value intuition?

-080-

Nabiki rolled over, and felt the mattress adjust to her new position. She played with a pen in her right hand, circling it again and again through the air. Ryoma was on the floor beside her bed, looking rather bored as he jotted down responses in his workbook. Light from the ceiling reflected off his hair, deepening its sea green hue— a striking contrast to the white t-shirt that he currently wore. The siblings were home by themselves tonight. Nanako had to attend an important dinner at her college and their parents were also invited as her guardians. They wouldn't be back until later, and the older of the two children had been left with dinner duty— something that the younger gladly rendered responsibility to.

"You've been texting a lot." Ryoma pointed out as her phone vibrated for the umpteenth time.

"I know." Nabiki replied, and flopped onto her back. She opened the message, and was well aware that her brother was watching her through the corners of his eyes. "Yes, aniki?"

He looked at her for a few moments, and then went back to writing. "Put it on silent. It's loud."

She giggled.

Senpai, current data indicates that we are getting on aniki's nerves.

Although her brother never asked who she was communicating with, Nabiki knew that he had a vague idea. The person on the other end of this invisible line was someone that he both disliked and respected. Nonetheless, the two of them had a history together. They understood each other, perhaps, beneath all the rivalry of their ways. Connected by a sport that gave meaning to the full extent of their lives.

Ahn? He needs to play another game of tennis.

She keyed in something quickly before plunging into her work again, an interesting manipulation of electricity and charged particles.

Then nobody will be home to cook dinner. I need to eat.