Chapter Eight - "I didn't think it would actually happen."

"Did you have a good time, Zashi-chan?" Hizashi had barely closed the front door behind her when she heard her mother coming down the hall.

Turning to greet the woman, she gave her a lazy smile. "It was all right."

Jukumaru Kaede kissed her daughter on the cheek. "I'm glad you're happy, dear." She held the girl at arm's length, looking her up and down. "And you look gorgeous. Didn't I say you would look wonderful in this skirt? You kept complaining about something silly…you thought it was too girly, I think."

"Fine. So you were right and I was wrong," Hizashi grumbled, but she was smiling. After an entire evening in these foreign clothes she had to admit the ordeal wasn't as bad as she'd predicted it would be. It felt the same as when she had on her school uniform. All the same, 'I'm going upstairs to take a shower and change now, all right?"

"You do that." Her mother gave her a small push in the direction of the staircase. Kicking off her shoes—fine, so heels looked good, but they still killed her feet—Hizashi started upward.

"Oh—Zashi-chan?"

"Yes, Kaa-san?"

"You said your date tonight was a Fuji Syusuke? What happened to that nice boy fron you school? Your father's business partner's son?"

Hizashi rolled her eyes. "Nothing happened to him. I've never gone out with him before." And never would, she privately decided, more certain than ever that she was never dating Oshitari Yuushi. Not after Fuji. Entering her room she closed the door softly—

Then spun around and launched herself onto the bed, landing eagle spread on the sheets wearing a huge grin. Flipping onto her stomach, she propped herself up by her elbows. She didn't care that she probably looked exactly like one of those twelve-year-olds with a crush she'd seen on TV way to many times—all she could think about was Fuji.

It would be a crime to describe him as a 'good' date. He had been amazing. Her ear-to-ear grin subsided into a contented smile as she replayed the evening in her mind, remembering every detail of his open, fun-loving face and the gentle sway of his voice. He was just so unbelievably lovable. She relished every compliment, every bit of shy yet devilish flirting, every apology he didn't hesitate to give when he thought she'd been offended (even though he hadn't said or done anything that fell under the 'offensive' category—not once all evening.)

Running a hand over her face, she shook her head. He was so damn sweet, and wasn't ashamed to be. Given her usual taste in company, she figured she should be having this innate desire to back off and run. But she wasn't. She was looking forwards to their next 'date' so much it killed her to remember that it would be a whole week away.

Releasing a long sigh, Hizashi finally sat up, gazing unseeingly at her bedroom's plain white ceiling. She wasn't stupid. Or in denial. She knew that her meetings with Fuji were not so much 'dates' to her as actual dates. As in, 'I think you're pretty nice so let's go out together and potentially end up married' dates.

Whereas Fuji, well, when he gazed deeply into her emerald green eyes over a flickering candle and bouquet or red roses…he probably saw a pair of black ones. Or blue ones. Purple ones? She didn't know Tezumi's eye color. Didn't matter. Whoever this faceless Tezumi was, she wasn't her, Jukumaru Hizashi. And the idea that Fuji was looking at this other girl (whoever she was—there had to be some info on this person somewhere) was giving her an unsettling amount of displeasure.

Therefore, the most logical conclusion was that… Great. Just great. Growling softly, Hizashi fell back onto her bed. She should probably start feeling devastated now. The fact that she had become attracted to (she thought of describing it as 'fallen for', but that elicited an instant sneer) Fuji could not be good news. Especially as he'd made it abundantly clear that he had his sights set on someone else.

Surprisingly, though, Hizashi couldn't find it in herself to get all depressed and love-sick. Actually, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about this development, but she sure wasn't thinking about acting out the "Why me?" scene, or inhaling chocolate. She toyed with the idea that maybe she felt a little…excited. Aroused? Up and ready to put up a good fight?

Hizashi grinned suddenly. No, she really wasn't that upset about her life becoming a cliche. Not at all.

"If that thing explodes, don't come crying to me."

With a jerk of her hand, Tezumi stopped the flow of acid into a beaker on the laboratory bench in front of her. Scowling, she picked the beaker up gingerly, looking around for the chemicals disposal bin. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Because you wouldn't have heard me anyway," Hitomi said dryly, stirring her own beaker. "But while I have your attention, I'll say something now: if you want to daydream about Fuji, don't do it in here." She gestured at the chemistry lab and their class around them, doing a practical experiment. Their teacher was a fortunate three tables away, helping another group of students. "Wait till there's less of a chance that you'll blow something up, all right?"

Dumping her failed experiment, Tezumi bent over a list of procedures wearing a distinctly ruffled frown. "Two things. Number one, even in the worst case scenario, this mixture we're supposed to make won't explode. It might be poisonous and strongly acidic, but it won't explode, so don't worry. Number two, I'm not daydreaming about Fuij."

Hitomi merely smiled knowingly.

"Oh, stop it," her friend snapped. "Seriously, why does no one believe that I'm not interested in him?"

"Because it's just so hard to believe," Hitomi said, her expression apologetic. "I mean, look at Fuji. He's Seigaku's tensai, a Third Year, one of the school's greatest heartthrobs—"

"Not you too!"

"—and it's more than obvious that he's interested in you. He's done so much to please you and make you happy and all…"

Unbidden, a memory of Fuji standing in the middle of a dusty sidewalk, life draining from his clear blue eyes as he offered to break up with her entered Tezumi's mind. She shivered.

"It's just so hard to believe that you could brush off someone that devoted to you, you know? Makes the rest of us wonder," Hitomi finished, replacing the cap of the reagent bottle in her hand and reaching for another. "Besides, almost every other girl in Seigaku would jump at the chance to just talk to him, while you…"

"Well, the thing is, I'm not 'almost every other girl in Seigaku'. I'm not going to worship the ground he walks, so tough luck for him that he isn't going for someone who does." Shrugging with more detachment than she necessarily felt, Tezumi resumed her experiment. She tried to concentrate on the task, but it was hard to stop thinking about… She frowned, frustrated. Privately, she admitted that Fuji had shaken her in ways she's never been shaken before, in three seconds and seven words flat.

As long as it makes you happy…

Privately, she could admit that she'd been flattered, if not anything else, that someone would go to such an extent for her. Privately (and only privately, because she didn't understand this and had little hope that anyone else would) she could admit that it also…scared…her, a little. That intensity of emotion…it wasn't something she'd dealt with before, and the way Fuji felt so strongly about her…it made her think that he could do just about anything. For her. To her. The fact that he hadn't was comforting, but that didn't guarantee that he wouldn't. Knowing him and his sense of discipline, he probably wouldn't, and she knew that, in her mind, but somehow she could never manage to relax around him anymore. It was very tiring.

If only she could just get away for a while. And not have to deal with…everything. If only there were a long holiday coming up, in which she could disappear and be on her own. Essentially, all she wanted was to be able to put her life on hold for a bit so she could calm the hell down and think about this mess rationally before she did something drastic.

"Tezumi? Are you ok?"

She looked up to find Hitomi peering at her concernedly. "Oh, yeah, I'm all right. It's just this experiment, you know? I hate using droppers." She waved the short, thin apparatus she was holding.

"…Right." As usual, Hitomi wasn't convinced. "Are you sure? Because if you want to talk about anything we could—"

"Actually, I did want to ask you something," Tezumi cut in. She hadn't, naturally. Wanted to ask anything, that is. But she knew that she was working herself up, and while that really did make her want to say something, she knew it wouldn't make any sense and she'd probably regret it later. "Um…remember that announcement Sensei made this morning?"

Hitomi blinked. "About that exchange program with Hyotei, you mean? Why do you—wait. Hyotei? You think the solution to all your problems is to hide out at Hyotei for two weeks?" Her gentle face contorted in frank incredulity.

"No," Tezumi said, wishing she's chosen another subject to distract her friend. "I wasn't thinking about going…to…Hyotei…?" She frowned. Actually… "No, no!"

It was Hitomi's turn to frown as she eyed the other girl apprehensively. "All right, all right, I believe you. You don't want to go to Hyotei."

"No!"

"…Ok. 'No' as in 'no, I don't want to go to Hyotei' or 'no' as in 'you're wrong, I do want to go to Hyotei'?"

Tezumi bit her lip, thinking quickly. So she wasn't thinking straight right that moment. So maybe she was a little upset and shouldn't make rash decisions. But that didn't make her next step feel any less right. "No, as in 'help me with this stupid experiment because Sensei's heading this way'."

Hitomi sighed. It was a long, weary sigh.

Fuji bit into the rice ball, chewed, swallowed, and then lowered his chopsticks for the next one. And the next one. And the next.

"Fujiko! Can I have some of your sushi? Please? Please?"

"Sure. Help yourself, Eiji.'

It didn't even register when the food was whipped out of his bento by an overjoyed redhead. Sushi. Tezumi liked those. She liked rice balls, too. He'd made some for her some time ago—heart-shaped ones. And she'd admitted (while getting red in the face, glaring and refusing to meet his eye) that they'd tasted good. Should he take Jukumaru out for sushi on their next 'date', then? Or perhaps he could make some himself? Invite her home and practice having long, charming conversations while he sliced sashimi?

"Nya! Nya! Fu—Fujiko! Th-there's too—too much w-wasabi in—nya!"

"Sorry, Eiji," the brunette reeled out automatically. "Those on the left side have less wasabi."

"But I took the ones on the left side!"

"Saa…then I suggest you don't take any from the right side. Maybe you should drink some water?"

Eiji ran out of their classroom, tears streaming down his eyes. Fuji glanced after him with a regretful chuckle, then returned to his meal. Well, he started eating again, anyway. His mind was elsewhere, making plans and weighing decisions. Wasabi. Tezumi had never liked that, much to his dismay. He used to trick her into eating some once in a while, in hopes that she would eventually get used to it. That was one of his few failures in life. Though that was dwarfed in light of how he'd handled Tezumi herself, of course.

With a sad little smile, Fuji took a deep breath, trying to let his natural optimism bubble back to the surface. It was going to be harder this time. He didn't think Tezumi would be at all likely to allow him a second chance easily now that he'd ruined his first one. And he'd promised to leave her alone, romantic-wise. Oh, so now he was creating problems for himself instead of letting her do that for him. He was such a genius.

Still, it wasn't over yet, or so he wanted to believe. 'Improbable' was already a lot better than 'impossible', and as Jukumaru had impishly pointed out, he hadn't specified how long he was willing to leave Tezumi alone.

The thought of the mischievous girl he'd met a few days ago brought a fond smile to his lips. She was so similar to Tezumi in many ways. Their eyes, for example. Green and glittering and full of life. And there was the way they spoke, so frank, almost brash, so matter-of-fact and literal. There was how they were both so headstrong. Any way he looked at it, Fuji still couldn't believe he had been so lucky as to have bumped into such a person who was so suitable for experimenting on. With a few additional advantages, of course. Jukumaru wasn't half as withdrawn as Tezumi tended to be these days, and heaven forbid she be shy around him. The memory of her encouraging his 'shameless flirting' almost made him laugh out loud. It was something Tezumi might have done, back in the old days, while he was still hobbling around in crutches and she used to tease him mercilessly when in the right mood (which had been quite rare even then, but still).

"Fujiko…!" Eiji returned to his seat. "How can you stand that—that—"

"Wasabi is good for you," Fuji said absently. Was that actually true? Probably not.

"But it's—it's porcupine-y! It made me go on fire, Fujiko!"

He paused his thoughts for a moment to compare his favorite spice to the prickly animal. "Ah. Then you should be nice to it. Get to know it more and it won't hurt you. And do you need more water?"

But Eiji had already rushed out of the room again on hearing 'get to know it more'.

Where was he again? Oh, yes, Jukumaru. And Tezumi. Fuji smiled amusedly, remembering that the former had mentioned having problems with a boy at her school. A boy who insisted that she was in love with him (Fuji privately thought it was the other way around, except that they boy wouldn't admit it, but he didn't want to traumatize the girl with this information) and was clearly angling for a date. Possibly by brainwashing her into thinking that she wanted one. Did Tezumi think the same of him? That he was trying to gain her affection by sheer stubbornness?

Well. If the two girls ever met each other, then, they should be able to sympathize instantly.

Following this wry train of thought he wondered vaguely who it was that could unnerve Jukumaru as much as she claimed. She seemed confident enough about herself and getting her way. Not like the type who would tolerate a lot of nonsense. Whichever guy was trying to get at her had their job cut out for him, that was for sure.

Let's see… If Jukumaru's predicament was anything like that of Tezumi's (or the way she might perceive it, anyway), then… Hm, who would be his counterpart in Hyotei?

Oshitari Yuushi? Hyotei's tensai sprung to mind (although, of course, he wasn't a real tensai; he only had Higuma Otoshi while Fuji himself had three counters of the same level—and numbers were still prone to growing). Suave, egocentric, most likely very popular in his own school.

Someone like that, fight tooth and nail for just one girl?

Fuji dismissed the idea. Surely not.

"Oi, Oshitari."

The youth looked up to see Shishido staring at a spot in front of him, openly disgusted. "What?"

Shishido opened his mouth, then snorted, rolled his eyes and grabbed something out of Oshitari's hand without a word. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded afterwards.

Oshitari blinked at him bemusedly. "Nothing's wrong with me. Why do you ask?"

"Because you were trying to put mayonnaise in your tea," Gakuto pointed hid doubles partner's cup wearing a peculiar expression that suggested he was completely grossed out. Then he frowned speculatively. "Or is that normal for you?"

His eyes snapping open, Oshitari glanced at the cup, then at the bottle in Shishido's hand, which, sure enough, held a white paste. "No, that isn't normal for me," he said numbly. What was he doing?

"Seriously, what's been going on with you lately?" Taking a huge bite out of his burger, Shishido leaned back on his chair and eyed his team's tensai critically. Swallowing, he added, "Did you fall on your head from a three-story building or something? Repeatedly? Because Gakuto just figured out something before you did."

"Hey!"

They both ignored the redhead. Shishido gave Oshitari another impatient look, clearly waiting for answers. The latter shrugged and started on his fries. The restaurant they were in wasn't as high class as the ones he was used to, but they did make good, wholesome food perfect for starving teenagers after a particularly grueling tennis training session.

Privately, he had to agree that his teammate had a point. He'd been getting distracted more and more often lately. Obviously, this had led to various consequences, some messy and some just plain dumb (he knew mayonnaise didn't go with tea; no, really, he did). However, this didn't bother him so much as the fact that his distraction was showing. Or the fact that his teammates were taking an unholy amount of pleasure in singling out his mishaps with the equivalent of neon lights and matching microphone announcements. But even more troubling was the reason why he was zoning out like a retard.

He was putting mayo in his tea because of Jukumaru Hizashi.

It was ridiculous. His entire life (and even worse, his reputation) was fraying at the seams because:

he somehow felt that it was undeniably and unavoidably important that he establish non-hostile ties between Hizashi and himself.

and, b) he wasn't succeeding.

The girl was still as stand-offish and generally disagreeable to him as always. This disconcerted him a little (all right, slightly more than a little). It implied that the pains he was taking to get into her good books weren't having the effect they should have had, and while of course anything he endeavored in was automatically failure-proof, it didn't stop him from wondering.

Which led to the arise of c) lately, he thought Hizashi was consistently being distracted by something outside his knowledge.

It might have been his imagination. It might have been that her workload was a little heavier than usual. At any rate, he got the feeling that she heard less and less of what he said to her those days. The really unsettling part was that it didn't even seem to be the result of a conscious effort to ignore him.

"Yuushi. Are you paying attention here?" Gakuto caught him by the arm.

No, not really. Sighing, Oshitari disengaged himself from the boy, who scowled huffily. "What? I was just trying to stop you from doing something stupid again. But it's none of my business if you like mustard on your fries…"

The tensai didn't even bother to look down to see what sauce he'd just dipped his fries into. Discarding it he picked up another and chose another sauce which was distinctly red. He couldn't go wrong with ketchup, could he?

"Oshitari!"

"Yuushi!"

This time, both his teammates caught hold of him before his hand was halfway to his mouth. Gakuto shook his head in an amazingly accurate imitation of sternness. "Look, not that I wanna boss you around or anything, but you're not eating something with half a bottle of chilli sauce on it. Even if you want to. Got it?"

"Remember what happened last time you tried that?" Shishido smirked slightly. "Screaming? Burning lips? Fire extinguisher? So not cool, man."

Sighing heavily, Oshitari shook both boys off, put the second fry to one side, then proceeded to eat the rest without dipping. He did remember his last encounter with chilli sauce, and tried his best not to. Across the table, Shishido and Gakuto were talking. About him.

"Do you think he's sick?" the redhead asked.

"In the head, maybe." Shishido replied disgustedly. Shifting in his seat, he pinned Oshitari with a speculative frown. "Atobe did say he was worried something like this might happen, but I didn't think it would actually happen…"

The tensai's gaze shot up from his half-eaten fries. "What would that 'something' be?" Atobe was talking about him behind his back? Ok, he didn't care if the guy was captain. The baka was not going to come out unscathed from all this.

"That you would get all hung up over Jukumaru."

"What?" Oshitari practically hissed. Though, technically, it was at least halfway true. He was just surprised that anyone else would have this kind of insight into his problems. Because, last time he looked, Atobe could only read tennis strategies off his opponents. Not love life crises. Gakuto laughed disbelievingly. "Yuushi? Hung up over a girl? Dude, get real."

Shishido wasn't amused. He started to argue but Oshitari cut over him. "You go tell Atobe that he's overdosed himself one too many times. Even Gakuto doesn't think I'd fall that low. Right, Gakuto?" Both boys swiveled in their seats as one and honed their focus on the acrobat like laser beams. Shishido glared. Oshitari arched a brow. "Well?"

The redhead just looked surprised. "Seriously? Uh…" Frowning deeply with a hand to his chin, he began the apparently laborious process of articulating his opinion. "Um…" His teammates leaned in expectantly. "Well…" He looked up. At Shishido. "You know, you're right."

Oshitari sniffed haughtily and turned away in utter disgust while Shishido crowed triumphantly. "See? Even Gakuto's smart enough to see my point."

"Hey!"

Again they both ignored him. Shishido grinned as he watched Oshitari. The tensai's lips were pursed in a sulk. "Oi, you look like Atobe on a bad hair day."

Oshitari glared.

Shishido sighed. "Dude, I'm not telling you to pretend girls don't exist or something," he said, impatient and exasperated. "I'm just saying that there are more important things on the planet than your girlfriend-who-doesn't-know-she's-your-girlfriend. Ok? Makes sense? I don't care what you do to her, and Atobe doesn't either. Sleep with her every night if you want to. But for Kami's sake don't let her screw up your tennis."

Folding his arms, Oshitari stared resolutely out the window. Sure he knew his training was suffering because half the time, his mind just wasn't there. But he wasn't going to admit that to Shishido of all people.

"Fine. Whatever you like," Shishido shrugged indifferently. "But nobody needs to see more of this." He gestured at the mayonnaise bottle.

The tensai snorted contemptuously in reply. Really, did he even need reminding that action needed to be taken? In fact, while his teammates whined about it, he was already planning the next step in his master plan. Well, all right, maybe it hadn't turned out to be the best plan as of yet, and maybe this next step was just a little short of genius. But he had a ready made excuse to get Hizashi to visit his house again, so why not accept a bit of help from circumstance?

It was settled, then, that he, Hizashi, Yuki and Gakuto would wrap up their work at the Oshitari residence. That way she would have to spend an entire uninterrupted day in his presence, during which they would be in such close proximity all the time that she couldn't possibly tune him out of her thoughts. That would realign her focus. Draw her eyes back to him. Anything else on her mind wouldn't have a prayer of competing.