Chapter Six - "What should I do?"

"Is it all right if I sit here?" Hizashi hitched on a cursory smile, not sure that even if the boy refused her company, she would give him any mind.

The boy returned a smile very much like her own. "Of course; feel free." And with that he looked away again.

Positively in a state of collapse, she slumped into the vacant chair, thankful that she hadn't chosen one of those posh, upper-class places where everyone from waiters to fellow patrons would frown heavily upon her bad posture. She didn't think she could handle the extra stress.

The day had been a fiasco. It left her feeling drained and yet induced an uncharacteristically poignant urge to hit something. Preferably a tensai. As it were, she had to content herself with jerking upright in her seat in an irritable manner as a menu was delivered. Barely glancing at it, she ordered the first drink that popped into her mind. "A caramel frappachino, please." A sugar rush would be good.

"I think I'll have the same." The boy passed back his menu was she did hers, offering a fleeting smile which fell flat a moment later. Having ordered, he seemed not to know what to do with himself, and resorted to staring at the tangled mess on the tabletop that was his interlocked fingers.

The sight of someone looking as run-down as she felt aroused Hizashi's curiosity despite the frustrations of the day. With a newly revived keenness she studied the teen before her. He looked about her age—or at least he did from neck down, although his slim frame was a tad less masculine than she was used to seeing for the average male. His face, barring its fair, unwrinkled completion, was that of a much older person, embedded with crystalline blue eyes, solemn and burdened, a thin-lipped mouth set in a purposefully relaxed curve, and framed by shaggy brown hair that was unfashionable, yet suited him.

On the whole, he might have passed for another Hyotei student, had he not lacked a certain Hyotei aggression. No schoolmate of hers would have been caught dead wearing such a defeated, positively miserable expression. Neither would she, for that matter, but funnily enough it was his helplessness that intrigued her the most.

"Thinks not going your way?"

The startled manner with which he blinked at her only made her bolder still. "Don't give me that look. I don't know how good you think you are at hiding, but let me tell you—you're a novice and it isn't working."

Blink, blink.

Finding it in her to grin, Hizashi propped her elbows onto the tabletop, cocking her head and cradling it in her palms. Yes, she was definitely relishing this—this vulnerability she was seeing. Assertiveness was a virtue, but too much of it for too long was dreadfully boring.

"Maa," the boy replied at last, sounding embarrassed, "I guess you could say that."

She nodded. "I could tell. It sucks, doesn't it, when there's something—or someone—that just drives you absolutely crazy and…" Rolling her eyes, she shrugged. "You know what I mean."

"I do." His sickle lips curled into a real smile. "It's horrible, isn't it?"

"Especially when it's a person," Hizashi barreled on without a thought. "There are some people I just can't understand. They can be so unpredictable, and—and…you simply can't do anything about them."

Nodding with a hint of vigor, her new agony uncle leaned forwards in evident interest. "Yes, it would definitely be nice if everyone weren't so unfathomable. I find myself quite at a loss, sometimes."

And one whole-hearted agreement later, she was spilling out the entire contents of her personal vendetta concerning Oshitari and his insistence of her attraction for him, mentioning no names but adding on those little details she had never taken note of, and her own speculations which wouldn't have been articulated at all had it not been for the need to verbalize them. When new notions she hadn't considered before came to her in her relay of recent events, she tossed those out too. Before long, she had given a fuller account of her grudge-filled history with Hyotei's tensai to this stranger than she had ever give, even to herself.

"I just wish I knew how he functions," she rounded up at the end of her rant. "Nothing he does ever makes sense to me."

"I know what you mean," the boy said emphatically. He was one of the most excellent listeners she'd ever encountered in her life, and had listened with such rapt attentiveness to her every word, not breaking eye contact even when their drinks had arrived. Hizashi thought this was phenomenal.

"So…that's why I came here, hoping to get on sugar high," she smiled ruefully, kicking back in her chair. Apparently the sugar high came with side effects, including exceptional sociability. "What about you? What set you on a quest for caffeine?"

Immediately, he shrank back almost visibly, repeating that self-conscious little smile. "Nothing. Nothing much. I haven't been having half the problems you have. It's not important."

"If it's enough to plunge you into a state of depression, I'd consider it important," she countered dryly. "Come on, I've told you a bunch of stuff even my best friend doesn't know. You don't even have to give me the whole story. Just say what's bothering you."

After a good deal of prompting, wheedling and teasing on Hizashi's part, pieces of the puzzle gradually came together. Much to her infuriation, the boy refused to tell his tale straight, providing only bits and fragments of as a reward for her ample hard work. Nevertheless, she persevered, taking to the game of cat and mouse quite readily—at Hyotei, it was an extremely commonplace scenario. Eventually, the general picture became clear to her.

"So let me get this straight." She frowned in concentration, nimble mind integrating everything he'd said into a relatively complete whole. "There's this girl you've known for a while…you two are close friends…you have a crush on her but she doesn't reciprocate your feelings. Yes?"

He nodded.

"And eventually you convinced her to try dating you, but shortly afterwards you caught on that she really, really doesn't feel that way, and there's nothing you can do about it. Right?"

Another nod, reluctant and feeble.

"Well then, I don't get what's wrong with her."

Eyes widening, he gazed at her mutely, unsure.

"What you've told me so far is…" Quite out of her depth, Hizashi fidgeted agitatedly in her chair. "I mean, I know attraction isn't necessarily based on logic or any concrete reason, and, all right, I've only just met you so isn't not like I could judge you as fairly as she can, but—" Thinking back upon the past two hours or so, she sifted through the little clues of his personality, searching for a flaw.

Could it be a lack of initiative? No, he'd been forwards enough in nagging his friend to give him a try. A lack of self confidence? He definitely didn't think well of himself; not as well as he should. But then she personally found this rather endearing—cocky, egocentric guys didn't hit it off with her. Or was it the simple deficiency in strength of character? Faced with rejection, he was doing a poor job of keeping a stiff upper lip.

Except, he couldn't rightfully be blamed for that, she reflected. Hadn't Oshitari pushed her to a similar degree of dysfunction? By relentlessly aggravating and constantly out-manipulating her, coupled with sheer stubbornness? Her non-existent influence over his behavior had cleared out enough space for a dreary seed of doubt to be planted.

Doubt of her ability to comprehend others. Doubt of her own adequacy. Doubt of the control she had over her own life.

It was terrifying.

"If a guy like you," she said slowly, "can't get a girl to change her mind, I don't see who can."

At once, Fuji's heart and mind rebelled. He laughed outright at the absurdity of the comment, and its painful validity. "I suppose no one can, then."

The girl gazed at him through sober, sympathetic eyes. "Why do you say that?"

It was an excellent question. He didn't even know how to begin. Fuji sighed. "She is beyond me. That is all." Perhaps there were no explanations. It was something he simply accepted as true.

Her reply was critical. "What do you mean by 'beyond'? Do you mean she's too good for you? What does she think about this?"

He laughed again. "I wish I knew."

"But you don't." Nodding, she fell silent for a moment. "And are you going to find out?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, have you given up yet?" A calculating, razor-blade sharp stare pinned him down. "Have you given up on her?"

His lips parted in surprise. Not because of what she'd asked. He'd anticipated that already. But because of his own response. Fuji understood the complexity of this decision, how it related not only to his own personal feelings, but also the promise he'd made, about abstaining and contenting himself with being her friend. Yet, the answer was there, even before he had begun to search for it.

"Could I? Could I possibly do that?"

If he was being obstinate, it didn't matter. If he was unworthy of her, he didn't care. Perhaps he would eventually learn to accept those things he couldn't change.

But he wasn't letting go of Tezumi Sachie.

He wasn't.

If it weren't so distastefully cliché, Hizashi would have reckoned she saw flamed halos of deep red circling those cerulean eyes of his. However, since the distasteful cliché was present, and threatened to overwhelm her, she redirected her attention to the life flowing, river-like, back into the boy, the way his gaze flickered with unprecedented spirit, and his soul-backed words.

"No, I'm afraid I'm unable to do that."

Staying very still, she regarded him contemplatively. Finally, his true nature had shed its cloak of sorrow. It was then that she discovered this 'true nature' wasn't much different from the poor, broken creature sitting opposite her just a moment ago. Traces of insecurity chained him still, and none of his suffering had been alleviated. Paradoxically, she could sense a certain resolution as well, a determination to hold the thorn ever tighter and closer to his heart, no matter how he bled.

She found she didn't understand this new acquaintance as well as she'd thought.

But somehow, it didn't bother her as much as it should have, either. "I see your friend has a loyal admirer."

"She was once one to me." And there was no ignoring the longing weighing heavily on 'once'.

"What are you going to do about it, then?"

"Do?" He smiled sadly. "There is nothing I can do. I thought I established that?"

"Well, you're wrong." Hizashi could barely keep track of what she was saying anymore. Entire phrases processed solely by a cognition far outstripping her own, hurdled out of her at breakneck speed, leading Kami knew where. The only thing left in her awareness was the feeling that resonated with every world-shattering word he spoke, intoxicating. "Listen, there's nothing wrong with you. At least, nothing intrinsically wrong. It must be her issues."

"Exactly. It is a choice on her part, that's why I can't do anything."

"You keep missing the point. What I mean is, it's not impossible that she accepts you. It's not even improbable. Have you considered that it might not be you she objects to? You said you've tried to convince her to be with you by arranging dates. What if the problem doesn't lie with you, but with the dates?"

Slender brows were raised in apologetic skepticism. "I'm sorry?"

"You know…like, the places you take her…any presents you give. Maybe you've not hit the right nail on the head yet."

"But I was careful only to take her to well-known favorites of hers," he protested, ludicrously adamant in blaming himself as a flaw, and not the technical details. "We've been to many places together, and I should think we know each other's tastes very well—"

"That was back when you two were only friends," Hizashi cut in impatiently, albeit aware that she was standing on shakier ground with every passing moment. Her personal experience in such matters was woefully deficient; it was possible that everything she spouted was complete nonsense. However she ploughed on, and it all appeared to make a little sense, at least to him. "If you go to the same places and do the same things as you did before, how can your relationship progress at all? Dating is a form of courtship. It requires romantic expertise which you have very frankly indicated not to have displayed."

A shell-shocked silence ensued. Apparently she had caused some form of revelation in him, by giving advice she'd never heard being given before (the 'birds and bees' lecture hadn't been administered yet by either parent).

"So you mean I need to be more romantic?" the boy summarized with (for some reason) incredulity.

"Stupidity is repeating the same actions and expecting the results to be different," she pointed out dryly.

"But…what should I do?"

And the answer was blurted out before it occurred to her to say it. "As for that, you'll have to come to dinner with me to find out."

Twilight consumed downtown Tokyo like a closing mouth blotting out the sunlight. Against growing darkness, street lamps, neon signs and fluorescent lights from every store lit up the sidewalk, threatening to un-blacken the sky. With the imposition of these changes, crowds of pedestrians of the day blended accordingly into the city's nightlife, and slowly but surely, the tides of people pooled into bars and restaurants instead of shops and malls.

Turning her collar against the autumn chill, Tayama Miyumi strolled briskly along a busy road, holding down her ruby red hair to prevent it from being blown about by the wind. Sighing dolefully, she muttered into her scarf, "Where is Hizashi?" The girl had gone missing all day; no one had picked up the phone at her house, and her mobile phone was switched off. Miyuki found this put quite a damper on her mood; she'd been looking forwards to doing some Christmas shopping with her friend. Being unable to contact her, she'd spent several unfruitful hours on the streets, not managing to buy anything. Hizashi's absence did take the fun out of many things.

Mood ill and stomach empty, she headed for a couple of diners she frequented most often. They were fine, upper-class places, special favorites of many of the Hyotei population. Wanting something hot, she decided to go for Italian food, and sweeping up to the restaurant's classy double doors, bustle inside, glad to be rid of the cold.

A waiter attended to her at once. "A table for how many, miss?"

"One, please."

"Ah. This way, please."

Following the smartly dressed man, Miyumi breathed in the alluring aroma of pasta, swallowing as her mouth watered. What should she have? The spaghetti bolognaise they offered was delicious, but she was also rather fond of—

"Um, excuse me, but I'd rather not sit at that table."

The waiter looked back at her questioningly, but voiced no objections to her request. "Very well. Perhaps the table over there?"

"That'll do." Giving a quick nod of acknowledgement, Miyumi hurried towards the indicated seat without waiting to be guided, thankful that she was dressed inconspicuously, and careful to keep her back turned on the young couple occupying the table right next to the one originally suggested to her by the waiter.

So that's why I couldn't find her. Miyumi smiled indulgently, sneaking a peek at Hizashi, who was engrossed in conversation with a rather good-looking boy she thought she might have seen before. At one of Hyotei's matches, perhaps? Had he gone against one of Hyotei's boys' team? She couldn't remember. In any case, it seemed as if Hizashi had given up a motto she'd stood firm by since the age of six ('dating is dumb'), and gotten herself involved with someone. Judging by her merry smile, she was pleased enough with her situation.

For finding such joy, Miyumi wholeheartedly congratulated her friend, and planned to do so in person once Hizashi went public about it. However, it was impossible to ignore that the girl's alteration in relationship status was also a determining factor in a matter much more relevant to Miyumi herself.

If Hizashi was taken, it meant she was off the market, to anyone. Even Hyote's elite. Even tensais. Basically, it meant that Oshitari Yuushi was up for grabs again.

And Miyumi was (presumably) one of the first (who cared) to know.

It was a golden opportunity she couldn't afford to lose. She needed to start planning ahead now, marshal her advances, devise a way to spend sometime with him and—

Here a certain obstacle presented itself, one she was thoroughly mortified not to have thought of sooner: Oshitari didn't know. He had no idea that Hizashi was now off limits. Anything she did was futile as long as this knowledge was withdrawn.

The logical solution would be to inform him. Straight forwards enough, with two hitches: one, there was really no reason why he would believe her, since he already knew that she was interested in him, and two: would I be betraying Hizashi? The idea of exposing a secret her friend wanted to keep under wraps didn't sit well with Miyumi, especially as Hizashi wasn't comfortable enough to say anything about it even to her.

On the other hand, if, say, Oshitari went out by himself…and happened to see Hizashi hand in hand with somebody else, then that would be a completely different story, wouldn't it?

Yes, Miyumi nodded to herself. That way, both knots would be untied at once: Oshitari was unlikely to doubt his own eyes, and she could never be said to have ratted on Hizashi. Perfet.

Plus…even if she would have a little to do with Hizashi getting found out…and even if she found out about Miyuki's part in the affair…it would just be one more person in on the secret. Just Oshitari. And Miyumi knew Hizashi would certainly forgive and forget such a minor offence. Oh no, she absolutely wouldn't mind too much.

Panting and sweating profusely, Oshitari struggled up the basement stairs leading down to his personal workout room with leaden legs. A damp towel was draped across his shoulders, which he used to dab at his matted hair and glistening face.

An accomplished smile graced his thin lips. He hadn't previously known about his and Hizashi's fathers' business relationship, but the information came across as a welcome surprise. Business inevitably involved socializing, which meant balls and dinners at which he was likely to bump into Hizashi, if he chose to attend. Before, he had always chosen not to attend. But now he would waste no time in incorporating this new opportunity into his schemes.

When reaching the lengthy corridor leading from the front door, he briefly considered heading upstairs to shower first before furthering his plotting, but decided against it; his father would not object to him glancing at this month's social evens calendar, despite his grungy state.

With that notion in mind, he approached a place he hadn't frequented since his elementary school days—his father's private home office, from which he conducted his business on weekdays and holidays. The calendar, if he remembered correctly, was a blown-up version of a regular monthly calendar hung on the wall directly facing his father's desk. It would be quite possible to nip inside and have a look without disturbing his busy parent.

Outside the grand office doors he gave one customary knock, but as he half expected, received no answer. A muffled voice squeezed through the heavy oak, crisp and professional. Oshitari nodded to himself. His father was on a business call. Should he go on? His father wouldn't mind, but he'd have to be very quiet.

Grasping the polished brown handle firmly, he turned it and pushed hard.

"…No, no, of course not. Just a small percentage, you say? Next to negligible? I don't see why not, then." The conversing businessman didn't notice Oshitari's presence, having swiveled his chair around to face the large windows behind his desk. "Obviously it will have to be kept between the two of us—"

One of the door's hinges emitted a shrill squeak.

The man's chair creaked in distress as it swiveled back round faster than Oshitari thought should be comfortable. With a small smile of apology, he pointed at the hanging calendar.

"I see, I see. Look, can I get back to you later? Yes, certainly; go ahead. Alright. Good day." Putting down the phone, his father leaned forwards, hands clasped. "Now. How may I be of service, Yuushi?"

"You didn't have to do that." The boy pointed his chin at the phone. "I can manage."

"I was curious," said Oshitari senior, spreading his arms wide. "You hardly ever come down here on your own accord."

"It's nothing important. I only wanted to check up on your schedule for this month."

"Ah…" Nodding knowingly, the older man turned to his desktop computer. "Who's the lucky young lady?" he asked conversationally.

Oshitari Yuushi, the cunning, elusive, unreadable and unfathomable Tensai of Hyotei nearly choked, and turned his head sharply.

His father grinned. "Oh, come on, son. Did you honestly think you could pull a fast one over your dear old papa? Have I never told you how I got your mother to marry me?"

Oshitari groaned good-naturedly. "Spare me the details."

"Ah, no," the man shook a finger vigorously. "Don't be such an unromantic twit. It won't go down well with your young lady friend."

Choking at the thought of how Hizashi would react to having love letters stuffed in her locker and bundles of roses presented at every corner, Oshitari sniggered.

"You may laugh now, but when she flings away your hand for a Prince Charming who sweeps her off her feet, then you'll be sorry!"

Sniggers turned to chortles.

"Unromantic twit."

Chortles to full-blown laughter. "I-it's not necessarily a b-bad thing to be."

"You'll be a bachelor for the rest of your life, I warn you."

When he was up against sweet-talking pretty boys who swept girls off their feet (Hizashi would probably heartily whack on the head anyone who randomly removed her from the ground)? "I wouldn't bet any money on that, if I were you."

Author's Note: In response to a review I got some time ago, this chapter probably explains the reason why I can't tell the Hizashi/Oshitari and the Tezumi/Fuji stories separately.