Atobe sulked behind me the entire walk to a certain fast food place.

I ignored him for the most part. Well, until we needed to order something. "Atobe, you're gonna have to talk to me. I'm fine if you don't, you can starve, if you'd like." I poked him when we got near the front of the line.

"Right now, ore-sama thinks ore-sama can last until tomorrow morning." He grumbled.

I sighed. "It wasn't that much. And you said that pastries weren't lunch."

He sighed resignedly (and very annoyedly) and dug his wallet out before handing it to me. "Ore-sama will pay, don't argue. Get me anything. Ore-sama is going to sit down."

Tapping his wallet against my cheek, I sighed again and smiled at his retreating back. He looked a tad bit pale, I guess he really can't take that much sweets. If he intended to spend time with me, though, that would have to change a bit. He'd starve if he didn't and that would be tragic…supposedly.

At the front of the line, I took a few bills from his wallet and ordered for the two of us. The girl behind the cashier had a dreamy smile on her face as she took the money. I dreaded the cause.

"Is that your boyfriend?" She said dazedly, punching in the numbers while simultaneously staring at Atobe sitting at a table.

Glancing at him, I tried not to snort. "Theoretically," I answered, taking the tray.

She didn't seem to mind my weird answer, she just kept staring. "You're so lucky."

Theoretically. I answered in my head, walking away.

Atobe caught his wallet with ease when I threw it at him, watching as I put the tray down in front of him. "I think you turned that girl's brain to mush," I said, pulling up my seat.

He gave her a sideways glance. I did the same, noticing that she was still looking at him with the same star struck expression on her face. "That's what you're here for."

"To see people's brains being turned into mush?"

He shook his head, smirking. "No, so that ore-sama doesn't have to see people's brains turning into mush personally."

I stepped on his foot under the table with the heel of my boot, he glared at me for that. Shrugging, I handed him his half of the food. It was considerably less than mine and I was so sure he was going to point that out. And he did.

"You really go at it, don't you," he said as I started on my cheeseburger.

"Why? No room for a cheeseburger in your carefully planned diet, sports boy?" I stuck my tongue out. AFTER swallowing.

He shook his head and popped a fry into mouth. "It's not that. You're just an overwhelmingly big eater."

"Oh, shut up, Atobe, just eat." And he did, miraculously.

"Oi," he said after a few minutes. "It's frustrating. There are a lot of places ore-sama could've taken you to that are closed only on Sundays."

"I'm sorry for having a life outside our fake relationship." I said monotonously.

He flicked my arm which was resting next to his on the table. "Someone might hear you," he muttered. Pouting, I drew my arm back and folded it across my chest.

"Are you free this Saturday?" He asked and I shook my head quickly.

I took a sip from my soda, debating whether I should tell him about the competition. Obviously, Sakaki-sensei didn't tell him and I really didn't want to. It would just be another part of my life he would be involved in. Especially since I would actually be at Seigaku. "All my Saturday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoons are booked for the next few months, okay?" I decided on going for half-informed.

"Why?"

"Please respect my decision of not telling you, got it?" I stared at him intently.

"Fine." He breathed.

"Seriously? I thought you'd put up more of a fight." I told him suspiciously.

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Well, if you want ore-sama to ask…"

"No!" I said quickly. "That's great! Thanks, Atobe."

He shrugged, going back to his food. Somehow I could see the gears turning in his head. My eyes narrowed.

"Promise you won't use the student council president thing to pry into my file or something 'cause I really do find it kind of stalker-y." I mumbled.

"Don't flatter yourself," He stated coolly.

The rest of the meal went on in amiable – as amiable as possible for the two of us, which consisted mostly of silence – conversation. In no time at all, we were back on the streets, strolling serenely side by side…

Not really, we were kind of arguing over who would carry the bags of food I bought because I grabbed them on our way out before he did. Right now, he was trying to get them back.

"I bought them," I reasoned. "Why can't I carry them?"

He made another move to take it from me. "Ore-sama is the guy, ore-sama is supposed to be carrying them. It looks bad for ore-sama if you carry them."

"That is an awfully sexist way of looking at things," I complained, putting them out of his reach.

He groaned. "Just give ore-sama half and let's call it even."

I lowered by arms and let him take one bag. I didn't like having him bringing my stuff around. I mean, it was MY stuff! "What's with you and not letting ore-sama carry it anyway?"

Pouting, I looked away. "It's my stuff, it feel s wrong to let you carry it. You were just being excessively annoying earlier. I don't like being pathetic. It just so happens I'm not particularly athletic."

He chuckled, "You're not pathetic, well, not completely at least."

"You're a wonderful person, did you know that?" I drawled sarcastically.

The blue-eyed devil smirked. Again. "Ore-sama's heard that a few times before."

I elbowed him in the ribs gruffly, "Has anyone ever told you you're a jerk?"

"You've told ore-sama that a few times before," He replied, one corner of his mouth tugging upward.

"Here's me telling you again, jerk." I reached out and poked him in the cheek. He had exceptionally nice skin.

I have no idea what happened after that. He told me he made dinner reservations for six but I had no notion whatsoever about what we could have done for practically four hours.

He brought out a camera. And we took pictures, for four hours.

The surprising thing? It was, one way or another, fun.

At six, he steered me towards his choice of restaurant. Stopping, I found myself in front of a vaguely familiar Japanese restaurant. The sign read Kitcho. There was one thing I remembered extremely vividly, though. The prices.

"You cannot seriously intend to treat me to dinner here," I whispered sharply after he gave the hostess an introduction. It was that expensive, you have to introduce yourself!

"It's ore-sama's money, isn't it? Have you been here before?" He asked, calmly walking to our seats. Western style, so we had more room to place our bags, apparently. Now, that we were inside, I remembered a lot more about the place.

"Yeah, with my parents!"

"Then it's fine eating here," He pulled up a chair and motioned for me to sit down.

I looked at him, distressed. "They're my parents, Atobe." He could not have seriously been comparing the situation right now to my having dinner with my parents. I met him less than a week ago via sexual harassment. "They're obliged to pay for my meals."

"Can't ore-sama be obliged to pay for your meal? Ore-sama brought you here, after all." He reasoned, hand still on the back of my seat.

"It's different," I whined.

He sighed agitatedly, "Ore-sama already paid for it."

I dropped back into my seat and let him push it in. "Thank you." He said as he made his way to his own seat.

"Why did you take me here?" I said in a tortured voice.

He laughed. "Don't be so dramatic. Ore-sama told you that most of the places ore-sama would've taken you are closed on Sundays. This place happened to be open. Deal with it."

"Can I pay half?" I asked in a small voice, not about to let him pay forty thousand yen per person without a fight.

"No."

"Just mine?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," He answered with an exasperated sigh. "Remind ore-sama next time that you're not the type of girl that appreciates being treated to expensive food."

I frowned, looking around again. "Gladly."

When the food arrived, I exerted utmost effort to enjoy every single grain of rice. An effort Atobe found increasingly funny as the meal progressed as evidenced by the smirk he didn't even try to hide every time I started on a new bowl.

"In the end, ore-sama believes you found the food pretty good." He said while they were clearing the table.

Taking a sip of tea, I answered him calmly. "It's not as if I don't find the food here good. It's just the fact that the prices are way too much for a first fake-date."

"Ore-sama will reiterate, it's ore-sama's money." He said simply.

I sighed. "You have way too much money." I knew. I had his wallet. "Aren't you afraid of being mugged or something?"

"People are usually too intimidated by Kabaji to try that and ore-sama is not dumb enough to wander off alone with that much money. That's what credit is for."

"Then why did you have so much cash in your wallet?"

He shrugged. "Rare occasion. Ore-sama was on a date. Ore-sama didn't know where you wanted to go, ore-sama wasn't sure if ore-sama would need cash."

I exhaled heavily, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Why are you so hell bent on this anyway?"

He looked at me intently. "Ore-sama is hell bent on this because ore-sama fully intends on making you tolerate ore-sama until graduation. Do you know how excessively persistent the girls at school are? More so if we suddenly 'break up,'" I could hear quotation marks in his voice. "Life would be so much harder."

"I feel used." I deadpanned.

He shook his head amusedly, "Ore-sama doesn't have anything to say to that."

Laughing sarcastically, I reached across the table to take the camera from his jacket's inside pocket. "Just wait, Atobe. I'll come up with a good one to get back at you for all this. Don't forget our little deal."

He propped his head up on the table, watching me fiddle with the camera. "Ore-sama looks forward to it."

"Really," I drawled. He took the camera from my hands and browsed through pictures. "I was still looking at that!"

"Almost all the pictures here are of food," He noted, ignoring my complaint. "What will ore-sama's parents think?"

"Now they'll think you'll spend the rest of your life married to a cream puff," I chimed in gleefully.

He raised an eyebrow, still looking at the screen. "Ore-sama would never make that mistake."

"Hey, don't diss the cream puff. That's my baby you're talking about," I joked. He chuckled lightly before passing me the camera. It was on a picture of the two of us. It was the only picture with the two of us in it. And we had a very eager young lady to thank for that. Just for the record, the eager young lady wasn't me. We were at a cafe and the waitress that brought us our drinks offered to take a picture of us. The first one had me completely cut out (she said it was a test shot) but she got the second one right. I was happy with it, generally; it was my best fake smile yet.

Laughing, I went through the other shots. "Incredible. Four hours taking pictures and we only have one shot together."

"That was what the chauffeur was for. Ore-sama's parents sent him to check if ore-sama actually had a girl with ore-sama and wasn't just sneaking off pretending to be on a date."

"Wow, your parents are really eager to have you dating someone."

"Tell me about it. They're not exactly the type to have ore-sama married off to someone ore-sama doesn't like but they incessantly set ore-sama up for omiais just so ore-sama gets used to the whole idea of it and give in. Thus, you are thrown into ore-sama's life."

"Hey, you literally dragged me into it," I argue.

"Irrelevant," He brushed it off and for the umpteenth time I inflicted some type of bodily harm upon his leg under the table and for just about as many times, he glared at me. "They were particularly happy when they found out it was you." He continued stiffly, still glaring.

I tilted my head inquisitively. "Why?"

"Simply because you're exactly the kind of girl they would've set ore-sama up with,"

I interjected, "I doubt that, there is no way you will find me dragged into a meeting for an arranged marriage. I'd rather cut my hair, dye it green and stow away on some freight ship as a carnie than get dragged into an arranged marriage."

He waved his hand dismissively again, "Setting that information aside, you're their ideal daughter-in-law, well, until they actually meet you."

My brow rose slightly, "Yuushi told me that, too, sans the until they meet you part." I added. "Now, tell me, I may be the ideal daughter-in-law but am I the ideal wife?" Cue batting of eyelashes coyly.

Atobe gagged and I stepped on him again. "Well, that would be domestic abuse for you."

I snorted. "Be a man and suck it up."

The same chauffeur picked us up and this time I tried to make conversation with him, just to get a grasp of the situation. Atobe was still outside of the car taking a business call and I was left alone with him inside with the divider down. He was nice enough; he seemed to really adore Atobe. Just as said young master entered the car, the chauffeur winked at me and mouthed 'good luck.'

I settled back into the leather seat with a slight grimace on my face.

Atobe closed the door and gave his driver an address before the wall-thing went up again. The address, I realized quickly, of my building.

"So, I'm guessing you got that from my file as well," I said more than inquired. My expression was relaxed compared to my previous complaints about his nosiness. The day really wiped me out.

He reclined into the seat as well, lacing his fingers behind his head and closing his eyes. "Files are useful that way," He muttered dryly.

The time after that was spent napping on my part. I didn't particularly care what he was doing anymore. It would seem he was napping, too, because when we stopped in front of my building his chauffeur was calling us both, repeatedly.

I scrambled up to grab my bags and crawl out of the car, Atobe on my tail. We stopped at the entrance to my building while I looked for my key card.

"Ore-sama will go up and greet your parents," Atobe stated.

I shook my head, bringing out my key. "You don't have to do that. My parents are out," I said matter-of-factly.

He nodded in understanding and handed me my bags which he took while I was searching for my key. "Are you sure you don't want ore-sama to accompany you upstairs? You may just trip and fall."

I glared at him half-heartedly. So tired. "No thanks, Atobe. I've had enough of you for now...forever even."

He smirked. "Likewise, Mai. Just out of curiosity, how about it?"

I slumped bonelessly. "I'd really rather not. Our first real conversation happened barely a week ago. Give me a few weeks to want to kill you a little less and then I'll think about it again. Be satisfied that I agreed to pretend to be your girlfriend. I'm not giving you the satisfaction of agreeing to another one of your requests." I shuddered mockingly, he raised his eyebrow amusedly.

He shrugged before turning towards his car again. "Ore-sama is still going to be calling you Mai; it's a lot less effort. Don't force yourself."

I ran a hand through my jet-black hair and sighed. "Whatever, Atobe. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," He called. It didn't cross my mind to turn around anymore. I went straight to the elevator (a little more careful, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right even if I'd never tell him he was) and clambered onto my sofa the second my door opened.

The clock read 9:00. Damn, what have we been doing for the past...thirteen hours?

Thank you once again to all my awesome readers and reviewers...Hope you enjoyed!

I love you Japan! I was on the look out for tennis players my whole stay!

Read and Review! Tell me what you think!