Chapter Two - "I am the center of your world."

"That one."

"Too short."

"That one?"

"Too thin."

"How about her?"

"She's a first year. Too young."

Hizashi massaged her temples vigorously. She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. "What about the one over there, by the fence?" she suggested tiredly, already knowing the answer.

Oshitari studied the attractive girl standing inside the tennis court enclosure, doing some basic racket swinging exercises. "Her tennis is mediocre."

Hizashi closed her eyes briefly, incredulous. She had already wasted a good half hour on the pointless task of taking the insufferable guy around the school campus, pointing out all the most sought after, eligible single girls in hopes that one of them would catch his attention. So far he had dismissed each and every candidate as unsuitable based on the most preposterous reasons.

She scanned the area again in a last ditch attempt. "Her!" she abruptly crowed triumphantly, pointing at a figure just coming into view from a distance. "Tayama Miyumi. You're only two inches taller than her, she was elected for 'best figure' last month in that school poll, she's the same age as you, Oshitari, and," Hizashi rushed on before any interruptions could stop her recital, "She's Singles One on the girls' team. She's perfect for you."

He couldn't possibly argue over that.

Or so she thought.

"Oh," Oshitari objected suavely, "But she isn't interested in me."

Hizashi brightened visibly. "Is that the problem?" She turned her back to him and waved, calling out. "Miyumi, could you come here for a second?"

The hailed girl hurried over. "What can I do for you, Hizashi?" she asked warmly.

Hizashi jerked her thumb in the direction of the boy next to her. "Don't you have something to say to Oshitari here?"

Miyumi blushed a beautiful pink, ruby red hair framing her face sweetly while sparkling green eyes peeked out from under thick lashes. "Ano…Oshitari-kun?" Her voice was soft yet confident, as alluring as the fantastic body she shyly flaunted.

"Mm?" he murmured languidly.

"I've been noticing you for a while…and I think you're a wonderful person," Miyumi flirted, making several boys passing by stare longingly. "It's so hard not to become enamored of you, and you crumble my self control…"

Oshitari blinked. He looked pointedly over his admirer's shoulder at Hizashi, who grinned victoriously. "She likes you a lot," she mouthed.

"Ah, but you adore me even more," Oshitari said aloud, smiling self-assuredly.

Confused, Miyumi frowned and glanced behind her. Her face contorted in heart-breaking pain as she silently accused Hizashi of her monstrous 'betrayal'.

"No!" Hizashi panicked. A close friendship was on the line. "Miyumi, he's lying—"

But tears had already filled the girl's sea-foam eyes and she fled, leaving a thoroughly upset Hizashi and a dispassionate Oshitari behind her.

The former turned furiously on the latter. "You didn't have to do that!"

But Oshitari only smiled, and acted as though he hadn't heard. "Now isn't this lovely? You have one competitor less."

"Oi, Yuushi, what did you do to her?" Muhaki Gakuto looked alternately between his doubles partner and Hizashi, who was in an adjacent tennis court, attempting to talk to a redhead and shooting Oshitari glares that promised a woeful life forevermore, and tragic demise.

"I did her a favor," was the uncaring reply.

"Ore-sama doubts that." Atobe Keigo raised a hand over half his face, his gaze locked onto the tensai intently.

Oshitari ignored him. It was true that his captain was extraordinarily adept at 'reading' opponents in a match. But if he thought he could read minds as well, he was overestimating himself.

"Oshitari-san," Choutarou approached politely. "Could you please be a little more specific about this…favor?"

The aqua-haired boy looked up from where he had been inspecting his racket strings. "I eliminated one of her rivals."

"Rivals?" Gakuto sounded completely nonplussed. "For what, you?" His puzzled eyes found Hizashi again.

"EH?"

Shishido Ryou jumped at the loud noise. "What the hell?"

"Yuushi." Gakuto rounded on said person. "You turned down Tayama Miyumi for Jukumaru?"

Quirking a brow, Oshitari watched his shocked teammate quizzically. "Is there a problem?"

Apparently words failed Gakuto as he simply gaped at the former with his mouth wide open. Choutaro looked embarrassed. Even Shishido shook his head.

Atobe chose that moment to loudly announce, "Lunch practice began five minutes ago. Five laps around the courts!"

The regulars scattered.

"Oshitari." The Hyotei captain held back.

So did the tensai. "Yes?"

Atobe got straight to the point. "You're being irrational about the girl. Surely you have noticed that? Ore-sama would like to know why you're giving up better potentials for her."

Oshitari chuckled carelessly. "My answer has not changed. I cannot outline any concrete reason, other than that she amuses me more than any of the others do."

"How long is this going to take?"

"As long as it does," Oshitari said vaguely. "She will yield."

At that moment, the diva lightened up, looking past the other boy with anticipation. "Is that so?"

Hizashi marched up to the two. "That was entirely unnecessary," she snapped.

"Was it?" Oshitari questioned airily. "I was merely removing an obstacle for you."

"And I was giving you a chance at something you would have liked! You and Miyumi both!" she half-shouted. "So don't appreciate my efforts, fine! But you nearly cost me a friend I've known for a decade there!"

Oshitari gazed at her, unmoved. "Did I?"

Hizashi turned to Atobe. "Can't you control him?" she demanded angrily.

The boy gave her a thin-lipped smirk. "Ore-sama oversees his tennis training. Ore-sama has no power over his private affairs, and anything concerning you falls under the 'private affairs' category, Jukumaru."

Hizashi blew up in his face. She had never hated Oshitari or Atobe more than she did that instant. "YOU INSENSITIVE—INSUFFERABLE—"

"Oi, oi," Oshitari waved her down. "You're being unreasonable."

Unreasonable?

She wanted to scream, but her throat had become immobile, clotted up by burning rage. Who was he to lecture her about being unreasonable? That was like the pot calling the kettle black, like a pond calling the ocean small, like her calling Atobe's tennis skills bad, like…

"This whole situation is unreasonable," she managed to choke out, her voice shaking with cold fury. "Everything. Ever since your idiotic proclamation of my affections for you." Having spat out the words with as much contempt as she could cram into them, she whirled around on her heels and left.

Two tennis players watched her go resignedly.

"Do you honestly believe you will win her over, Oshitari?"

A scoffing snort preceded the words, "Why ever not?"

"Tezumi, you can't stay in here."

"Yes, I can," Tezumi squared her jaw defiantly.

"No," the friend and classmate in front of her insisted sternly. "You promised Fuji ten days. Ten full days. Now get out of the girls' bathroom, go get ready for class, and stop being such a wimp."

"I'm not a wimp," Tezumi retorted fiercely. "A wimp is someone who's scared by minor trivialities. Hitomi, this is not minor." How she missed the days when the girl facing her, hands on her hips, was still a bashful, stuttering mess. Change had its downsides, sometimes.

Takahashi Hitomi sighed, heavy and long-suffering. "Listen. Fuji's not that bad."

"He wants to sew up a tear in my jacket and sharpen my color pencils for Art Class. Is that normal?"

"No. But it's nice of him." Gripping her friend's arm firmly, Hitomi proceeded to drag her bodily towards the exit. "If you don't want him doing those things, talk to him about it. You two will have to communicate much better once you're his girlfriend."

"I'm not going to be his girlfriend," Tezumi maintained heatedly. "I'm not!"

"You never know, Tezumi. You never know."

She really wasn't talking to him.

"She really isn't talking to you."

It was with the last of Oshitari's forced patience that he replied, "I know, Gakuto."

With his hyperactive doubles partner lounging upon a nearby desk, he sat at his own, apparently flipping through a magazine with a vacant, bored demeanor. Perhaps to someone just passing by and not really paying attention, he might have appeared to sport the cool loftiness that was becoming of Hyotei's tensai.

But on closer inspection, it was quite plain that he wasn't really as aloof and at ease as he looked. He wasn't even reading his magazine properly—every so often his gaze flickered across the room where a certain brunette sat, filling out a worksheet. And genuinely concentrating.

With each glance, Oshitari felt the small, irritating bite of frustration.

This is ridiculous.

Ever since their confrontation at the tennis courts almost forty-five minutes ago, Hizashi, in mild terms, had refused to say another word to him. Being effectively transparent in her eyes had not gone over well with him at all. He had done almost everything he could think of to resolve the situation. Oshitari had teased and taunted, threatened and coaxed, but none of his usual provocation tactics—bear in mind, those amounted to a fair many—had gotten so much as a sneer out of her.

Which was a huge shock in and of itself, because provoking Hizashi was something Oshitari generally excelled in, even without trying. The experience of failing in this usually effortless endeavor was not putting him in the best of moods.

Gakuto was no help.

"She ain't got no right playing hard to get with you," the redhead said indignantly. "'S not like she's your only option. Even Tayama Miyumi wants to date you! And by the way, I still say you should ditch Jukumaru and go for her instead."

Oshitari put a cool palm to his forehead, thinking that if he spoke slowly, perhaps his voice would remain even and devoid of his current agitation. "If I were interested in Tayama at all, don't you think I would have gone for her in the first place?"

"Yeah, but you say you're not interested. I just don't get it!"

By breathing out a deep, lengthy breath, Oshitari managed not to snap. On top of being irritated by Hizashi herself, he was less than pleased with the input from his friends and teammates.

So Gakuto didn't get it? Well, he, Oshitari, didn't get it either! He simply didn't get why everyone was questioning his choice of Hizashi over her 'hotter'—their word, not his—friend. He'd tried making it very clear that physical appearance was a secondary concern at best in this case, but they had all found his reasoning obscure.

He personally couldn't see what the problem was. If he had been looking for a beauty queen, he would never have paid Hizashi any mind from the very beginning. Why, if he'd had his sights set on Miss Universe, he wouldn't be considering anyone from within Hyotei at all! It was absurd that anyone could expect him to abandon his efforts on Hizashi for just any other prettier girl.

It hadn't been good looks that had first drawn him to Hizashi; that was for sure. Therefore it followed logically that better looks alone elsewhere would not draw him away from her.

It was just that simple.

Leaving Gakuto to his puzzlement (he wouldn't catch on anyway, even with more explanations) Oshitari got up and maneuvered around the tables and chairs that lay between him and his target. Without prior announcement, he lowered himself into the seat in front of Hizashi's, with every intention of forcing her to look directly at him. Immediately, she turned to gaze out of the window instead.

Oshitari remained undeterred. He smirked amusedly. "You know, by actively shunning my company, you are in fact acknowledging my presence." She did so hate being bested, he knew, and would definitely not take his claim to victory lying down. He expected her to rage, perhaps throw something at him, and outline exactly what she thought of his presence using a variety of colorful vocabulary.

But she didn't flinch.

There were no screams. There were no tantrums. There were not even any movements. She sat like he was half a planet away, her eyes trained fixedly on whatever it was she was so determined to stay focused.

Unfazed still, he stared hard at her profile, hoping to unnerve her, but the minutes ticked by and she showed no signs of discomfort. From then until the bell rang, signaling the beginning of their next lesson, she seemed not to notice or care about being under his scrutiny. The most emotionally expressive thing she did during this whole time was scratch her nose.

Oshitari was astounded.

Day one.

Tezumi couldn't believe that it was only the first of ten days she was supposed to play girlfriend to Fuji. Already, the whole of Seigaku had been notified of their departure from bachelorhood. Within five hours flat, half the student population—the female half—had officially declared war on her.

And she had to put up with it for nine more days.

Dating a school celebrity was not, she decided, worth the trouble.

Doing her best to ignore the jealous glares directed at her from all over the Art Room where she was currently attending class, she tried to focus on the painting she was working on. It consisted of a mountain scene that only lacked a proper sky. She lifted her brush, but as she did, a particularly vehement glower hit her full in the face and her hand slipped.

A bright blue spot appeared on her blouse.

Startled, she looked around hastily for something to remove the stain. A second later, a wet cloth was between her fingers and she had no idea how it had gotten there. She wasted no time in doing some damage control for her uniform, but then turned her attention towards searching for her helping hand.

She did not have to search for long. Fuji, who had stationed his easel left of hers, smiled. He took the rag from her. "Do you need another?"

She shook her head and muttered, "Thank you." In one gesture, Fuji had been observant, sensitive and ridiculously well prepared. The resultant feminine hostility bouncing off the walls had reached an outrageous level.

Tezumi would have liked nothing more than to pick up her chair and relocate herself to the other side of the room.

For that day's performance, Hizashi decided she deserved an Oscar.

Donning an expression that was serene yet condescending and above all, indifferent, she swept right past Oshitari on her way out of Hyotei. She imagined her long ponytail, swishing crisply in the wind, swinging within inches of hitting his nose as he tried to intercept her. She felt surprisingly playful, and only with tight control on her face muscles did she suppress a grin.

True, she had started out mightily annoyed and plenty murderous, but now, strangely, she was beginning to enjoy herself. Oshitari's constant nagging was no end of trouble, but at times he was so ludicrous that it was almost funny.

"Ah, Jukumaru, you cannot ignore me for long, because I am the centre of your world."

Well, okay, so he'd been saying stuff along those lines for some time already. But when she realized how it must look to an outsider—that the girl whom he declared held deepest affections for him was pointed ignoring his existence—the situation did strike her as comical. It also felt empowering to be the one imperiously walking away while he scurried around trying to get her attention when she flatly refused to even glance in his direction. For once, she had the upper hand over the one regarded as a genius by her school.

It was a definite plus, what with Oshitari constantly looking to manipulate her at every turn.

At times she did wonder whether it was cruel to let him go on humiliating himself, but then she remembered he had never had any reservations about doing that to her. Heck, he'd almost committed social homicide that day; Hizashi had never been counted among the ranks of the insanely popular, and having Miyuki as a foe never did much for one's social success. He deserved the embarrassment, she thought grimly.

Vindictively, she flicked him off her trail as she reached Hyotei's boundaries, going so far as to hope that he messed up his tennis practice that day. Gakuto's timely yell of "Hey Yuushi! Atobe says you get twenty laps and twenty more if you don't get your ass over here now!" further boosted her spirits.

She was in such a good mood that she wondered if she might skip her training, just the once. Any triumph over Oshitari Yuushi put celebration in due course, and she hadn't seen any of the mall for the last…two months…? Hm…

"Kon'nichi wa, Tezumi!" Fuji's voice was a joyful song as he greeted his date at the gates of Seigaku. Seeing as he was still being tolerable, Tezumi smiled. "Hello, Fuji."

Beaming, he led her away from the school. It was still day one and for the first time, he was taking her out—with her consent. As luck would have it, his afternoon tennis club activities had been rescheduled. "Ne, I know the courts the boys' team uses are under renovation today, so my practice was canceled. But what about yours?"

Tezumi shrugged. "My usual courts are fine. I just don't have practice today."

Fuji paused to think. Then, his expression changed from cheerful and content to alarmed and horrified at a frightening rate. "Tezumi! You didn't have to quit training to come! I could've waited for you! You know I—"

She waved a hand to silence him and shook her head. "For future reference, if a date and a practice session clash, I'll definitely be canceling the date and not practice." Tezumi didn't particularly worry about how that would make him feel, since it was the truth and it wasn't like she wanted him to think of her as a dedicated girlfriend anyway. "But unless you haven't noticed, my team has official practice a lot less than yours. Not every day. I mean…" She shrugged. "Our club members aren't as keen?"

Then she must have frowned, and Fuji must have noticed because he said, "Maa, a holiday once in a while is good for you; it lets you get some rest," in a comforting tone.

Again, Tezumi shrugged it off. "I don't really mind. Practice isn't a picnic, as you know. You slave away but never get to play any official matches… If you're not a regular, sometimes it's just not worth it."

Of course, Fuji's athletic spirit protested violently against this claim. "But the point of training is about tennis itself, isn't it? If you don't like it, then why…?"

He didn't find this a terribly personal question, so was quite baffled when a faint blush tinted her cheeks. She eyed him carefully, as though debating how much to tell him. "If you must know," she said briskly at last, "I did it to one up you."

Fuji took a moment to fully process this statement, but when he finally finished, he almost stopped walking. Tezumi saw his wrong-footed face, and smirked in satisfaction.

She did not, however, get the last laugh.

"Tezumi!" When Fuji emerged from his stunned spell he smiled broadly in delight. "You joined the team because you were thinking about me."

The girl blinked. The reaction she'd anticipated was a bit different. But then again, this was Fuji she was dealing with, thus all insanity had to make sense. "Technically," she corrected, very dignified, "I joined the team because I was thinking about how much I resented you. Back then you were still Mr. Hot Shot with an ego the size of Atobe Keigo's and you had the nerve—" she glared "—to keep forgetting my name. I learned tennis so that I could play good enough to show you up."

Silence fell as she finished her speech, and Tezumi got a long withheld sense of revenge, having at last told Fuji off for being—in her opinion—a cocky idiot.

The thing was, being a tensai, Fuji always had the last word.

"But Tezumi," he exclaimed, his face shining like she'd just made his day. "You were still thinking about me!"

Which was technically true, but… Tezumi's plan, she now realized, had clearly backfired on her. She had failed to disperse of her 'fan girl' associated image of 'joining a club for a boy' while still being truthful about her reasons for taking up tennis. She would have thought that was bad enough for the Fates to call it a day and leave her alone, but oh no, on top of that she had to actually further cement Fuji's already unshakable notion that she was besotted with him.

Naturally she tried very hard to impress on him that in this case being on her mind wasn't necessarily in his favor, but nothing she did or said afterwards could convince him from approaching the issue from any other perspective. Thus, instead of wasting more breath arguing the point, Tezumi gave him up as a bad job and concentrated on pretending that she was in no way involved with the gleefully ranting teen beside her.

It was late in the afternoon. A reddish sun cast a fiery glow upon the public tennis courts that Oshitari was currently scanning with an increasing sense of 'uh oh'. He did not like what he saw—or rather, what he didn't see.

"Tch." Glowering irritably at the still nets and empty courts, he sat down in the stands, lowering his bag and using it as a pillow as he lay down facing the sky with his hands under his head. He sighed impatiently. So he had miscalculated. He had somehow gone too far and now Hizashi was avoiding him.

It was rather surprising, seeing as he had never been high on her priority list—he got the idea that he'd probably never been on it—and she had never altered her daily schedule for anything concerning him. Yet the proof was right before his eyes, Hizashi's absence ironically saying more to him that she had all day.

He chuckled over this. It was part of why he found her so entertaining—she was forever trying to undermine him, and was good enough at it to give him some satisfaction when he ultimately gained the upper hand, as he always did. Smirking, he reveled in the thought that she was probably feeling very pleased with herself now, having supposedly succeeded in evading his company.

In fact, it only showed that he was making progress with her; she was finally starting to calculate him into her plans and moods.

Well, that was the good news, anyway. His smirk waned slightly as he took another sweeping look around the deserted courts, and the implications of it. On the bright side, Hizashi was beginning to pay attention to him. On the not so bright side, well…

Facts showed that crudely put, he was now officially on Hizashi's shit list.