I'm terribly sorry that it's so late! Things have been deathly hectic nowadays and I was only able to catch this break because I got chicken pox.

Anyway~ there's a portion here heavily based off of Prince of Tennis OVA Another Story Episode 2: Turbulence, The Young Atobe It's an episode about the Hyotei regulars when they first entered Middle School. They are all incredibly adorable and hilarious. And it sheds a lot of light on Atobe's character. Do watch it when you have the time!

Without further ado...

Hope you enjoy! READ and REVIEW!

There was something – or rather some things – that I still found myself wondering about Atobe since our deal around a month ago. Truthfully, I'd never thought that the last leg of my High School life would be so eventful. Or annoying. Irritatingly annoying.

During the past month, he'd been a lot of things at the same time. At first, I wanted punch his lights out. Or bookbag him to death or something. After that, he was a little more multi-dimensional. That is, I started considering more manners of physical abuse but that's slightly beside the point. But even after I'd seen him in action, I still do not know why the entirety of the school was so in love with him. The way the regulars acted around him comforted me. They don't worship the ground he treads on, (which almost everyone did. For Kami's sake, I think Atobe worships the ground he walks on.) at least.

Sure, the guy was...acceptable. He had...admirable qualities.

I'd told him before that I didn't exactly hate him.

He just annoyed me.

His hair flips, especially. Come on, who wouldn't be annoyed at a guy who flipped his hair constantly?

But then he was just that kind of guy that didn't like being idle. Atobe had to be doing something productive with every millisecond of his time.

You can't hate someone like that, really.

But I'm back to asking myself why people would bother fawning over him.

That's why I'd found myself...errr...discreetly leaning on the doorframe of Atobe's classroom at lunchtime, a piece of curry bread dangling from my mouth as I watched the fangirls make a line in front of his desk and offer him bentos coupled with murmurs of adoration. Their eyes twinkled as they handed the elaborately packaged boxes to the apparent god who simply sat at his desk nodding, smiling(smirking), and flipping his hair.

Damn hair flip.

This is why his appeal doesn't quite appeal. It's overstated.

I closed my eyes, still chewing. His pros and cons were weighing themselves on my mental scale and so far we're keeping a staggering balance. Maybe it was time to get a second opinion to tip the scales. It might be better for both me and the deal if the scale was tipping a little more in his favour. Or maybe better for his shins.

Pushing myself off the doorframe, I scanned the classroom absently, noting that the line was nowhere near the end and Atobe appeared to not have noticed me standing here for the past 10 minutes. I couldn't say the same about the fangirls, though. Some of the people in line and others who were just loitering around the classroom were glaring daggers at me. In their minds, I was probably tied to a pole and rotating above an open fire with an apple in my mouth. Was it weird that that thought just made me crave for roasted pork?

Weighing my options for where I was about to go, I picked the obvious answer and ignored them as I shrugged before making my way to the school's salon.

There's a glasses-wearing tensai that better be prepared to answer my question.

I snickered to myself. How would he answer this one?

The salon was otherwise empty except for Yuushi sitting at the corner of one of the overstuffed couches with a book in hand. His back was to me while I stood by the hall that led into the room and I stared at the back of his head for a minute or so, debating whether and what I should ask, when he suddenly called my name. He was one person that couldn't be snuck up on but I'd known that he was aware of my presence from the get-go.

I walked up to the back of the couch and leaned over it slightly, pulling at the ends of Yuushi's hair. He hadn't turned around when he'd called out my name but now he snapped his book shut and tilted his head back, smiling lazily up at me. "Hey."

I grinned back. "Hey."

He set his book on the table next to him and placed his other hand on the vacant part of the couch on his other side. I took the invitation and dropped into the seat next to him, his arm coming around my shoulders. "Tired of your boyfriend already?"

"When am I never?" I released an exaggerated sigh that made Yuushi chuckle.

"So, have you come here to participate in a sultry affair with yours truly?"

I gave him a mockingly coy smile. "Of course, why else would I be here?" We shared a good laugh at that. "But before that, I have a question for you."

"Anything for you, Mai-hime." He winked down at me.

"Why would anyone want to worship the ground that Atobe Keigo walks on?" I pursed my lips as his eyebrow rose to his hairline before offering a confused smile.

He blinked. "Is this about that old dream of yours?"

I pretended to think about it for a moment and Yuushi responded with an amused drawl of, "Mai-hime, I'm offended that you think so lowly of me."

I shook my head, laughing. "It's not, it's not. My own selfish curiosity demands to be sated and you seem to be the one best suited to achieving such a feat."

The corner of his mouth pulled up in a half-smile, his glasses glinting. "I believe it's in my place to be flattered, then."

"It also occurred to me that Kabaji was an option considering their relationship and all but it didn't dawn on me to really consider him as an option. I thought that it would be an awkward conversation. So, here I am asking you."

He exhaled heavily and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose in a practiced motion. I continued smiling from beside him. "How do you actually want me to answer that?"

Shrugging, my finger tapped a rhythm where my hand rested on his leg. "Straight to the point, I suppose."

"Atobe's a pompous ass." Yuushi said as bluntly as the end of a battering ram.

He said with such a straight face that I couldn't help but outright laugh. "I'm pretty sure I've told him that a couple of times before." I wiped away a wayward tear. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I don't doubt that you have." He allowed a smile and wink. "But he's not one without reason."

"Tell me about it." I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

Yuushi continued. "Atobe is one of those people above those kinds of people who have more money than they can spend in several lifetimes. In his case, he sees it fit to spend it on us."

I gasped theatrically, bringing a hand to my mouth. "Are you saying that you've been bought, Yuushi?"

"It seemed that he was trying to do that at first, actually." He seemed to start reminiscing. I vaguely remembered Atobe in our middle school days. He was the first year representative, if I remember correctly, and I'd heard he made quite a fuss on the first day but I hadn't been around then. I had yet to return from Hokkaido. "But the thing with Atobe is that he thinks he's above everyone else, that he's king."

"Don't we all know it." I couldn't help but interject with a snort. "But, please, continue, I feel we're getting somewhere important."

"It's below him to bother buying friends." Yuushi finished the thought and I nodded in agreement. A guy like Atobe wouldn't care for those kinds of things. He didn't need people like that. If they could be bought, they weren't worth being sought out. I was in full agreement regarding that sentiment. "Instead, he spent all that money on a whim, really. Always up for a challenge, he brought in all that equipment, renovated the school, and all that to make sure that everyone's got a fair chance at 'unseating' him from his throne."

"I'm listening. Though, the gist of this is..."

"Atobe's the kind of guy that can walk the talk. I'm sure you accept that much, Mai-hime." He pulled me closer into his chest.

I sighed resignedly. "I do. What these past few weeks have shown me is that when he says he can do better than you, the reason would be – more often than not – because he can. It's a frustrating fact but I have to hand it to him."

He nodded, looking up for a bit to think. "Since we've established that..." He hummed curtly. "He thinks that, since he's able to, he should give everyone a fair chance at trying to be as good as him, perhaps better." He leaned closer to me in a conspiratorial fashion, humour seeping into his voice. "Though, he probably thinks that that's essentially impossible.

He strongly believes – as Atobe always does, he never 'weakly' believes in anything – that your worth is decided purely by virtue of what you have done for yourself, your skill and your capabilities. He won't give you something that he thinks you don't deserve. That's why he spends his money like that. To make sure you have no excuse to not excel." He leaned back into the seat more, taking me with him. "And people respect all of that. Some more than others, probably because it doesn't hurt that he's good-looking as well but you didn't hear any of what just transpired from me."

It was then that he winked at me in true Yuushi fashion and I snickered. "I know what I'll be dreaming about tonight."

Yuushi shook his head. "I have a feeling that I know, too."

"But I have one more question for you, Yuushi."

"Will this be one that will question and/or compromise my sexuality?" He asked with an inquiring look.

"No..." I pouted. "I don't think so."

He responded with a grin and took the arm on my shoulder off to ruffle my hair. "Then I don't want to hear it."

"Don't feel too bad." I told him chidingly. "That kind of question is unnecessary at this point. You've compromised yourself enough on your own."

The tensai nodded sagely. "Carry on, then." He replaced his arm on my shoulder.

"What could I have possibly done to deserve this?" I wailed in exasperation, throwing my arms up into the air.

The bell rang at that point and Yuushi laughed.

"I told you, Mai-hime," he said, nonchalantly picking up his forgotten book and herding me out of the salon. "He never gives someone anything that he doesn't think they deserve."

"Have you earned any such respect for him after that?" Yuushi had asked me quietly before he deposited me into my seat.

"Serious consideration, Yuushi." I clucked at him, sticking my tongue out a bit just as sensei came in. The boy in question smiled smoothly and settled into his seat with no comment.

So, I sat in class pondering on Yuushi's question. When I said serious consideration, I meant serious consideration.

Spinning my pencil around on my thumb idly, I stared out the window in a daze.

Most of the time I wanted to bust his face in. The rest of the time, I want to glare at him. But never could I fathom hating him for his quintessence. Or weirdo-ness. It seemed so petty and the last thing I'd want to be around that kind of guy is petty. It's demeaning as a human being.

I huffed to myself and then sighed.

Nah.

I wouldn't fool myself into thinking that Atobe was a horrible human.

But then again, in two days I'd have to spend another day with him.

And I didn't have to fool myself to know that I'd have to suffer through his being insufferable again, as well.

Well, apparently, I deserve this.

'This' being him and his damn hairflipping.

Atobe had texted about an hour ago that he'd be picking me in two hours. That is, at 11'o'clock. I found myself scurrying about my flat with my shoes in hand, trying to find my cellphone. It wasn't helping that the silver of my phone was blending in with chrome and glass design of my place. As if on cue, I tripped over the edge of my carpet and landed on my phone which happened to be on my couch cushion, thankfully.

As such, I'd abruptly greeted Yuushi a happy birthday and told him of my plans. He'd laughed, informed me that he knew and wished me good luck. There was continuous laughter on his end throughout the whole conversation. Before he put the phone down, he promised that he would make it up to the both of us. For now, though, it would be alright since he intended on spending the day celebrating with his older sister who had just come back from her work abroad.

I stared at my cell after we'd both hung up and sighed. The numbers on it told me that I had half an hour to get ready for my appointment. I tossed it onto the glass top of the coffee table and hobbled over to kitchen counter and sat on a bar stool as I strapped my shoes on. Also, it wouldn't hurt to grab a bite.

After feeding myself a hearty breakfast, I made my way downstairs to the lobby. At exactly 11'o'clock, Atobe's imported Mercedes pulled up in front. I sighed and went to stand next to the door.

When the door opened, I came face to face with Atobe's smug face staring up at me.

"You do know that you are incredibly inconveniencing, right?" I said to him in greeting, both my eyebrows raised.

Atobe jerked the corner of his mouth up at me as I slid into the back of the car. "I know I'm incredibly persuasive despite your opinion of me."

"Says your opinion." I snorted. There was a shrug and his cool smile widened as he relaxed against the well-appointed cushions and laced his fingers on top of his crossed legs. "It's Yuushi's birthday today, I'm sure you know." That came out as a sigh as I reclined into the seat. "Aren't you supposed to go celebrate or something?"

"Not today." Another shrug. "Are you still trying to get yourself out of this?" His eyes narrowed in amusement.

Pouting disdainfully, I crossed my arms over my chest. "I've come to terms with my being your pastime for the day. That's what I am at the moment, right?" I smiled slightly.

"Something like that."

"Glad to know," I said sardonically. "So, where are we going, pretty boy?" He seemed a tad bit pissed at the nickname but otherwise, he looked resigned. The expression made me snicker internally.

"Do you have any place in mind?" He offered civilly. The put-off expression eased from his face.

It was my turn to shrug as I crossed my legs, letting one of my slightly heeled feet dangle slightly. "Any place with good air conditioning." The past few days were entirely too warm for October.

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head amusedly before leaning calling an address out to his chauffer. I recognized the address of a pricey restaurant and sighed to myself.

"Good air-conditioning?" I asked casually, staring him in the eye as he sensed in that creepy way of his that I was going to try and persuade him to not pay for me. It was a weird thing to persuade someone out of but this was bothering me immensely. We weren't even really dating, after all.

He laughed before breaking eye contact and staring out the window in a show of 'Happy trying, Mai.' "Highly satisfactory, I'm sure."

"Any chance that you'll let me pay for the surely highly-priced food?" I crooned straightforwardly.

"As much chance there is that you'll beat me at tennis, Mai." He stared at me with derisive amusement out of the corner of his eye.

I snorted. "Ouch, pretty boy. What a gentleman you are."

"Ore-sama tries." The corner of his mouth pulled up slightly, I noted.

"Do you, now?" He didn't reply but simply flicked a hand through his hair again, the quirk in his mouth more pronounced. "You're in a good mood today, aren't you?"

"Something like that."

Bvlgari, Il Ristorante was an Italian restaurant in the main shopping district of Tokyo, found on the highest floor of the Bvlgari building. And like their jewelry, their food was crazy expensive.

For some similarly crazy reason, Atobe managed to shoot me down every time I offered to pay for even a miniscule portion of the bill. He had told me that since this was a pseudo-birthday outing, it functioned as if it was still his birthday and he got anything he wanted. I scoffed inwardly at that when he said it. He thought he could get anything he wanted, birthday or not. I suppose he was conceding that I didn't think so.

How sweet.

What he did accede to me, though, was where we would sit after he had caught me staring out the windows and not paying attention to anything he said after he had refused my offer again. The maître d' was rather amused – and thankfully not murderous, I liked her already – when I walked along the side of the restaurant with its huge windows to find the table with the best view(and air conditioning).

I picked out the table and took a seat, beating Atobe's attempt at trying to pull the chair out for me. I stuck my tongue out at him behind the maître d's back. He rolled his eyes exasperatedly and took his own seat.

When Saki, as her nametag implied, turned back to me with a request to take my order, I grinned and she smiled back. It was good that not all women fell for his 'charms' and turned hostile on me. It probably helped that this lady was well into her forties.

"I've come to realize that the amount of food that goes into your mouth is in direct proportion to the amount of words that come out," he elaborated as I placed a spoonful of risotto into my mouth.

I glared pointedly at him while I chewed. "Well, excuse me, Mr. Tall, dark and pretty," I drawled and he narrowed his gaze on me when he caught the last word.

"What?"

"Tall, dark, and handsome," I repeated in a patronizing tone. His stare relaxed into a self-importantly amused way. "Pretty handsome." I added with a wiggle of my eyebrows.

He scoffed. "If that's the case," I continued. "Then your money is paying for the words that are coming out of my mouth this very moment." He looked taken aback – albeit in a pleased way, he was in a good mood – but he quickly recovered and flicked a hand through his hair.

"Excellent point," He agreed, unable to smother his smile.

"Isn't it?" I cajoled. "Do you want to reconsider who's paying, now?"

He took a sip of his drink and swirled its contents smoothly. "Not for even a second, Mai, but I commend the effort."

I sighed. "Of course you do."

Oddly enough, we got to talking about my playing the piano. I cleanly avoided everything regarding my concours as we focused on how I started and then what instruments he could play. Apparently, he could play a number of them(not surprising) but since he had a number of different lessons as a child – including languages, other sports, and etiquette(little good that did him, or me) – he didn't quite stayed with an instrument long enough to be good enough at one to bother to compete. He said these in a much haughtier way but after a while, I'd begun to learn how to strip his words down in my head so that they sounded less annoying.

"A real Renaissance man, aren't you?" I told him, swishing my tea around in its cup. The dishes had been cleared and we were both idly drinking tea while I enjoyed the cool air around me.

He cocked an eyebrow in my direction as he lowered his cup onto the table. "I think that was an actual compliment," he gloated. Leaning across the table slightly in a manner I suppose he presumed as 'sexy'.

"And this," I motioned to him blandly with the hand not holding by cup, "is why Renaissance cannot be spelled without ass."

Laughing outright, he settled back into his seat and a hand ran through his hair again before settling over his face in the usual fashion, regarding me with a clearly amused smile. "Well, isn't that an interesting fact? Anything else?" He said, his eyes saying that he was having fun.

Honestly, I was, too. The things Yuushi had told me were still in the 'serious consideration' stage but it eased me along. I never really hated him, after all, and having someone as close to me as Yuushi say those things didn't make me dislike him more.

It was my turn to lean over the table this time with a clearly amused smile. "Yes, actually," I held a finger up to his face. "Renaissance isn't spelled with a 'u'." That said, I placed my finger at the corner of his mouth and pulled the upturned side down as I nodded with a satisfied lift of my brow.

When I returned to my seat, I looked back up at Atobe who still had the same expression I forced onto his face as he raised his hand to call for a waitress – who, by the way, arrived with scary promptness – and order something I couldn't hear.

Two minutes later, a delicious looking chocolate cake was placed in front of him and I stared at the delectable pastry as he expertly shooed away the amorous waitress.

I was still looking at it when she left. After a second, I was looking at it as he pushed it across the table so that it sat in front of me. I then raised my eyes to look at him as the expression wavered. "Touché."

Not one to refuse sweets, I picked the plate up and laid it across my palm, dessert fork in hand. "Thanks, you weirdo pretty boy."

The day was nowhere near over when, after he had paid for lunch, we pulled up in front of my building. I gave him a questioning glance when he opened my car door.

He had told me that he would be requiring the whole day prior to this and, while I wasn't exactly disappointed to be home already, I was rather confused.

He answered my confusion with two words, "Get dressed."

I narrowed my eyes at him warily. "I wasn't aware that I wasn't."

His hand was poised to take mine as he leaned into the car. "You are," he drawled. "But not well enough."

My eyes narrowed at his tone. "Well enough for what?"

"Just a little function that you've been invited to."

"Have I?"

"You have."

The smirk was unwavering as he stared down at me and I took a deep breath before taking his proffered hand and repeating the mantra that I'd been telling myself the past month.

"Let's get it over with."

Since I lived alone in the rather large, six bedroom flat(supposedly one room per family member plus a guest bedroom) I was allowed to move into the master bedroom since there was no one else to take it. My parents had bought the apartment for my personal use, really, after the two of them had to move to separate places and I decided to stay in Tokyo. They picked out a place that any of them could easily move into if need be but that need seemed to be a long time coming, if ever, to me. Though, my older sisters and cousins occasionally stayed over during breaks, it was mostly me. Yuushi came over often, too. What I enjoyed the most was that the interior decorating fell solely onto me (and Yuushi) and I took liberties in making it extra modern with chrome and leather and all that. Such a design was inspired by my grandmother. My sisters would probably keel of over laughing if I told them that.

At this point, I'd reached my closet and taken out the first decent dress I saw, threw it onto the bed and moved into the adjoining bathroom to freshen up. Once I was done, I slipped into the dress and stared at my reflection for a while, trying to decide what to do with myself. The dress was a one-shouldered piece of cobalt blue silk chiffon and a draped detail over the shoulder and I toyed around with the drapery until I decided that I was lazy and simply combed my hair and tossed it over one shoulder while I applied minimal makeup

I also picked out a pair of shoes – they were black suede cutouts with fairly high heels but I was no stranger to fashion, contrary to Atobe's beliefs, and I knew fashion hurt – and decided that I would wear them when I got into the elevator to lessen the chances of injuring myself.

I found him leaning on the arm of a sofa, inspecting a couple of framed pictures on a side table. He looked up when I reached the top of the stairs and nodded as he called out, "Ready to go?"

"Do I look ready to you?" I shot back casually when I reached the bottom.

"I suppose."

"Good." He was waiting for me by the door already but I made a quick detour to grab a box of Pretz from my counter and was off after glaring at him pointedly and grabbing my coat off the sofa I'd draped it over.

True to my decision, I put on my shoes after we were safely in the elevator. "See, Atobe," I started to tell him during the 18-storey descent, "You don't need to kidnap me to get me dressed. All you need to do is ask." Our interaction briefly replayed itself in my head. "Which, in retrospect, you didn't do either."

He chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Remind me again what we're doing." I said as we exited my building and saw the car parked in front.

Atobe got in first and offered me a hand which I eyed wearily. "It's one of the charity balls that my parents host regularly. They figured I should show you off."

Rolling my eyes, I took his hand. "Thank you for objectifying me, Atobe. It feels great." I said, and after doing so, promptly whacked my head on the top of the doorframe. I yelped in pain and brought my free hand over to inspect the damage, not at all missing how Atobe choked down a laugh as he took me by the waist carefully and lowered me into the car. Even the chauffeur had a smile on, from what I could see at the corner of my eye as he closed the door behind me.

"Are you okay?" He finally asked after schooling his expression and stifling his laughter.

There would be a bump later, I knew, but it was nothing I wasn't used to. I told him as much and scowled when he nodded stiffly. "Just let it out, you know, your false pity is even more embarrassing."

Instead of outright laughing, his smirk worsened a hundredfold as he remained silent throughout half the trip to his house. I realized it would have been better if he just laughed...or flipped his hair.

Okay, maybe it was better without the hair flipping.

The accident wasn't all that hard to live down considering that I'd had far worse than that.

Atobe had asked me in the car when he'd finally settled down how I really was and I told him so. The second half of the trip was spent telling him a few of the embarrassing situations I'd been that beat the one I just had. Considering that said incident was pretty low on the spectrum of my accidents, I didn't even need to tell him the really humiliating ones. All the same, he smiled at me derisively the whole trip and whenever it got particularly bad, I'd whack him a little with my shoe – both of which I'd taken off in the car.

Once at the Atobe residence, he led me into a sitting room where he told me to wait while he changed. I'd slipped my shoes off again and was idly browsing through a shelf of CDs tucked into a corner of the room.

Atobe came back twenty or so minutes later dressed in a dapper charcoal gray suit that, of course, fit perfectly.

"We'll be late," he said, picking up my shoes from by the sofa and walking over to me.

After securing my shoes on my feet, he maneuvered me up a few stairs on which I kept my hand firmly on the railings until we reached a set of double doors. I could hear the deafening sound of a chopper's rotor. My eyes narrowed at Atobe who simply stood there with a glint in his eye, hand on the door latch.

"What gives?" I shouted over the din.

"I never said the party would take place here." He replied, just loud enough for me to hear him before pushing the door open and allowing the gusts of wind in.

There were a pair of maids and that butler of his waiting outside on their private helipad. The pilot was already inside, presumably waiting for us.

My hand went up to my hair to keep it out of my face as I stared at the arrangement before me. Thanking my coat for holding my dress down in the artificial tornado, I made my way to the chopper carefully. Atobe was already waiting for me inside, watching as I held on to the side of the doorway before heaving myself up. "Watch your head," he said with amusement in his voice as he took my arm and pulled me the rest of the way into the cabin. The door shut behind me just as I settled into the seat.

"Where are you taking me now?" I asked, exasperated as I fastened the safety belts.

He leaned over to the pilot and gave him what I assumed to be the go signal.

Safe to say, I made it to the Atobe mountain villa in Karuizawa without inadvertently slamming my head into another doorframe so I suppose that was one thing to be thankful for.

Well, I hope you liked it!

Tell me what you think! READ and REVIEW, please!