Author Notes : At last! After one long month of waiting, I manage to update this fic! Is there any out there still reading this? ^_^* First of all, thank you to my first six reviewers. You guys pushed me into finishing this chapter. Forgive me for the long delay, but I have so much to do in these last weeks –entering the university and so on- and because I’m no longer living with my parents, there are lots of things to arrange by myself. No more talking, I know you are tired of it. On to the story! Still, please read the warning first. Have a happy reading!

DISCLAIMER : No one mentioned here is mine. I also borrowed some words from several books which obviously are not authored by me. I own the plot only.

WARNING :

For the entire story : (read in the first chapter)

For this particular chapter : This chapter can be rated G as a matter of fact, only several subtle hints of Tezuka/Fuji. But I feel the need to remind you that my Fuji is really EVIL. If you can’t bear that thought, I advise you to leave.

Italicized words, this time, do not represent the characters’ thoughts. It means I emphasize the words.

                                                                      Unattainable

                                                                                        Author : SIB

Chapter One : Indescribable

Seigaku High School; Tennis Courts

July 9 – 04: 34 p.m.

The ball bounced, sent to the opposite side of the court with an impressive speed. A redhead unpredictably leapt sideward, twisting his wrist into some extent in futile attempt to counter it. His racket, rammed by the unbounded velocity, slipped out of his grasp and fell to the green court.

 “Mou~ that was mean, Taka-san! Didn’t I say ‘go easy on me’? This is only a practice!” as expected, the acrobatic player had whined again.

 The captain of the team stood silently at the outskirts of the court, observing the going-on practice match which soon altered into a stage of fracas aided by Kawamura’s burning yells. Fortunately, his double partner gained enough senses to snatch the yellowish racket from his tight grip, before the brawl could mount any worse. Before long, the gentle side of Taka-san had taken over his body with a bewildered look and very much oblivious to what his other personality had done.

 After some scrutinizes, Tezuka shoved his rising anger aside, deciding the ruckus had not been appalling enough that it deserved any further sanction. In that case, he darted his gaze until it fell to the newest member of the team. Fuji Shuusuke, currently Kawamura’s double pairing, was the only player astonishingly sedative in the civil disorder. The perpetual smile relentlessly lavished his fair face while he was watching his fellow teammates –either the accusing Kikumaru or the defensive Kawamura- with somewhat a misplaced amusement. Sometimes, a playful remark would be thrown from behind the lips, which obviously did the situation no better, simply providing the already-panic vice-captain with an extra burden to take care of.

 Fuji. The mere calling of the particular name torched a deep uncanny sensation in the pit of his stomach. He recalled undergoing a similar phenomenon during his first encounter with the freshman of the team; a thrill of finding an opponent worthy enough to make him play into a full extent. Endless searching was what he was going through when suddenly, this year, both tensais appeared before his eyes from out of the blue. Not that if the two were akin at some rate –in fact, they were as different as a smash and a lob.

 While Echizen put his life in no other than playing, Fuji, who was bestowed by talent that could make every professional tennis player green with envy, did not even pull sufficient pains into it. True, he could be all serious when it was considered a necessity. However, he did not seem to deem tennis a center of universe as Echizen, or Tezuka, did. Sometimes it annoyed the devoted captain, and maybe several number of the team members, of how the prodigy could play so effortlessly and still win the game nonetheless.

 The first time they lay eyes upon each other was not one to be forgotten, at least for the captain. He could perfectly live the moment out, even now, after two whole months. It all began with Kikumaru who suddenly stormed into the class he shared with his vice-captain, also the first part of the Golden Pair, and bugged the raven-haired guy with a never-ending speech regarding a newly transferred student in his class. That time, he quickly dismissed it as an overjoyed enthusiasm as it was likely the way the impetuous acrobatic player always behaved on regular occasions.

 Yet later, when he made his way to the lavatory during their lunch break, it seemed that every single student he came across by chance was chatting about a new guy in school. Even he suspected a fan club had been formed –there were a bunch of girls clustering in front of Kikumaru’s class, screaming ‘Fuji-sama’ at the top of their voice. Still, he felt needless to pay any heed to someone unrelated to tennis.

 He was yet to know the reason until they finally met. The team’s leader was standing at his usual spot at the court, talking quietly with Ryuzaki-sensei, when Kikumaru trotted along his way from the court’s entrance with news that ‘his new friend’ would join the tennis club. He merely raised his eyebrows in mid interest, guessing offhandedly how good ‘Fuji-sama’ would be in tennis, when he was greeted by a sight beyond his most extreme imagination.

 A coolly smiling guy clearly was the last thing he had in mind and a very much smiling unobtrusively guy was whom he faced at the moment. Despite the beam, which he would find annoying later that it was strapped firmly on the rosy lips, he had never seen anyone, male or female, who possessed both sexes enchantment in perfect amount of fairness. Not that Fuji looked like a sissy; instead the masculinity and beauty blended only too well to catch everyone’s eyes. Even the slender build failed to deceit anyone for he was sure the one standing before him was not to be taken lightly. Lithe he was, yet it was none like the girly one, with nicely toned muscles placed at the right spots. Fuji was perfect to be beheld, that was all.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Fuji Shuusuke,” the new guy smoothly introduced himself, offering his hand first to their coach.

Even the voice could easily fraud anyone, a male’s laced by an entrancing scent of femaleness. It reminded him of a lullaby drifting the listeners to a deep slumber before its chanter eventually killed them. A kind of voice that offered tranquility appended by veiled hazard.

Almost as immediate, Tezuka slapped himself mentally after his prejudging appraisal. He had yet to know Fuji and irrespective to how inherent the trace left in him, the logical leader had always believed that first impression could be deceiving.

“Tezuka, the captain, ne?”

The named one shifted his gaze and found himself staring at an outstretched palm waiting for his response. Slowly he took it, like what his civilized manners taught him.

As the surprise of the day had not been adequate, the moment their fingers touched confused him even more. Not that he felt anything implausible; instead, he could feel nothing. It was as the person standing before him was devoid of any emotion. With a silent disbelief, he scrutinized the smiling face. Obviously Fuji did not fear of him, nor he was developing any diffidence like some of their contemporary friends when they were brought upon the sight of the terrifying Seigaku’s leader. It impressed him, for even Oishi trembled under his gaze in their first meeting. Echizen was a different case; the brat clearly chose to ignore him. Fuji wasn’t. He was dissimilar.

The smile was as vain as the other part of Fuji in enlightening him about the guy. He failed to sense any joyfulness –if there was indeed any- in the everlasting beam. How could a person smile when he did not feel happy? People resembled to Tezuka even would choose ‘smiling’ to be the last option of emotion they would display. It was as the brown-haired guy was born with a smile strapped on his countenance and he was unable to remove it. Very beautiful it was, yet also inhuman. A smile which the captain recalled he had seen chiseled on the lips of Greece Goddesses statuette in Athens. Stunning and exquisite, altogether distant and pitiless.

“Ano, Tezuka…”

He promptly looked at the source of the voice calling his name. Oishi was standing beside him wearing a face full of concern. Several seconds were needed before it sank in him that his hand had been linked with Fuji’s unfortunately only too long. The shorter guy did not seem to object however –he was merely beaming still with eyes shut tightly- nor that he showed any explicit reaction when the bond was roughly incised off.

The cold captain tried his best to ignore Kikumaru who was suddenly grinning mischievously. He could do nothing since the fault was on his side but to murmur a ‘nice to meet you’ in return only.

His interest did not stop there as Tezuka continuously put more surveillance on Fuji afterwards. The new guy appeared to be a modest one, a rare view in a prestigious school filled by plutocrats. Almost he looked naïve, skillfully innocent, and Tezuka would already believe it if only he had not learned before that it was an empty shell they were interacting with.

 The later event proved his foremost deduction to be right as their coach began their daily practice with a welcome match since Kikumaru forcefully promoted that Fuji was far from amateurish in tennis. Arai was chosen as the first opponent because despite his brashness, he was deemed harmless –at least, did not harbor an overly powered shot as Kawamura and Momoshiro did- in case the redhead was only boasting.

 Ryuzaki-sensei might wish she had chosen Tezuka instead, following the one-sided match. While Fuji looked as serene as the breeze blowing around the court and no special attack was shown, his adversary seemed that he had lost whatever control he had for his shots. The victor was obvious. 6-0 for Fuji in mere twenty minutes.

 The spectators were simply amazed by the ordinary yet formidable performance of the new member, until Inui arrived and gave them further enlightenment as their coach took her time interrogating Fuji privately.

 “Fuji Shuusuke, seventeen year-old,” he began calculatingly, ”height 167 cm, blood type B. Has just entered Seigaku today with two-week lateness which reason remains unfathomable, and placed in 3-6 along with Kikumaru. Background note, formerly a regular in Hyoutei.”

 “Hyoutei!?” There was a chorus of shocked exclamation from his listeners minus Tezuka and Kaidou.

 “Hyoutei,” the bespectacled guy emphasized his words as to convince the rest of the team, “infamous for his Triple Counter, which I had yet to see, and a Disappearing Serve. Respectfully regarded as a prodigy even that he had yet to appear in an authoritative tournament. We did not have a chance to meet him in National last year because he became a regular afterward. Had remained to be a regular in Hyoutei for four months before eventually resigned; the official reason recorded was to resume his study overseas. He disappeared for three full months and suddenly emerged here today.”

 Perhaps it was due to his sense of duty in I2 that Inui’s last statement flickered a suspicion within him. A living mortal supposedly was not capable of evaporating without any trace. But of course, in second thought, the whole report might be as true as it was. Fuji might have refused to continue his study at anywhere but Japan and it fortuitously brought him to Seigaku.

 Whatever the reason was, Tezuka bore the least interest he could spare of. He was too absorbed by the fact that there was another one acquiring ability in tennis nearly as splendid as he was. With Fuji and Echizen around, lacking worthy opponent was purely impossible.

 Apparently the revelation did not stop there. The subsequent week, as the tradition which had been passed on, an intra-school tournament was held to choose the regulars for the upcoming matches. Ryuzaki-sensei was all of a sudden holding a tight measure on her in-charges, since she demanded them to reach, or even win, the National. The idea naturally was supported in copious quantity by the captain, whose hidden fervor might flame much higher than hers, and resulted in shape of harsher and heavier practices. As expected, the quartered tournament provided whomever the peers were, first-rate matches served by the prospective regulars.

 With the current presence of the two new formidable members who predictably became a regular, Inui and Arai alas had to suffer the loss. Yet, no one put any doubt in the new order; instead they developed a high expectancy in both of the new regulars to guide them to their final aim, the National. Beside, Inui remained as their practice partner, by being a manager who instantly got the foul idea of how to push his teammates practicing even harder.

As time went on, his interest ascended and he must admit that Fuji was the first person, apart from his family, who could hold his attention in such a bountiful amount. Still, the interest was limited in mere curiosity over a worthy teammate who incidentally suffered a difficulty of scowling. The captain watched and observed. Yet, the only clarification he obtained after two months of scrutiny was that the new unique regular possessed a remarkable skill of adaptability. His name was thoroughly known all over the school, not only due to the prodigy title he held, but also because he was a nice and wonderful friend. In short, there was probably none in Seigaku who held a grudge against him.

Unlike the all-rounder player such as he himself or Echizen, Fuji adjusted himself well in double matches, which made him a great partner for Kawamura. In the other hand he was able to carry his place astonishingly tremendous in singles as well. It was as he could be all they hoped for, a flexible endearing doll.

Sixty-three days was the time they had gone through together as friends as well as teammates and Tezuka still would choose to shrug rather than to give a definite answer if he were asked what Fuji was like. He could give thousands of words describing him, all along the single word he deemed fit perfectly for their new friend –in his opinion of course- was indescribable. Or even a simpler question like the color of his eyes was not the one he could answer.

A long shrill call disturbed his daydreaming as he took in the picture of their coach blowing a whistle. Apparently, while he was drowned in his bottomless thought, their practice had reached the end. All of the regulars, along with other members rushed to line in front of him and Ryuzaki-sensei, prepared to listen to the closing address of the day.

“The preliminary tournament is no more than two weeks away. All along, you have developed well but if it’s possible, I demand more. Give me, show me your best and we will go to the National!”

Her brief speech was parried by loud enthusiastic shouts from the packed tennis court. Their faces shone with zeal and hope, while the regulars had the determined look strapped on. In his silent surveillance, Tezuka promised to himself that he would put his best effort to this team, lead them to the stage of National with austerity and pride, since never so much belief he had felt for one team. He knew they could. And they would.

“Dismissed,” the coach discharged her team and in an instant, the members moved their feet, scattered for different directions. The captain was about to supervise the first-years gathering the balls when Ryuzaki-sensei called him. He turned on his heels, facing her as he felt a light valediction tap was given to his coated shoulder by the vice-captain.

“I want to know your opinion about the regulars,” she inquired, “as the leader of the team, of course.”

“They are dependable,” Tezuka started matter-of-factly, “and they can cooperate well, especially in doubles. Oishi-Kikumaru pair is needless to be worried and Kawamura-Fuji pair is worth trying.”

The elderly coach nodded, voicing her approval, “The new double pair is good but I can’t help but to feel a little worried. As a matter of fact, I was considering Inui and Kaidou to be paired. But now, when Inui is no longer a regular, I have no other choice. Speaking of it, what do you think about our two new members?”

Tezuka realized the question would eventually rise, for she had never mentioned it before. Wisely, he chose the freshman first to be clarified, a much safer way than trying to answer the unanswerable.

“Echizen is vivacious, hard-willed in tennis, and can be a good leader if only his arrogance can be reduced. Sometimes he has a problem with temper also and as we have seen, it brought him calamities. He sees none but tennis, that is why.”

“Just like yourself,” she gave a comment with a smile, which obtained no response from the stoic captain, “then Fuji?”

It was obvious that several seconds were needed in order to put his thoughts into words presentable enough. An easy work, it was definitely not. The overburdening impressions seemed to mingle themselves to blurry bits and pieces where he could not lay his hand on. How he felt the urge to exclaim his lack of knowledge, yet he kept reeling his brain persistently, searching for words and phrases in the hidden shelves in his mind. Fortunately he was able to do it before his coach got suspicious.

“He has talents and I regret to say he is not grateful enough that he is blessed so abundantly. He can do a lot better than the state he is now.”

 “If I listen wholly to you without my own observation, I would think our new regulars are worthless,” her smile went wider for a moment before a frown wrinkled it, “but I have to agree especially regarding Fuji and I’m not too pleased about that. Can you do something, Tezuka? Like enflaming his spirit? He has never been serious regardless to the fact that loss has never been one of his friend.”

“He should experience one,” the captain quietly replied.

The coach nodded, “I thought so. And the one able to do it is you.” As she saw the discernible reluctance in her trusted right-hand, she added, “For the sake of the team, Tezuka. You are the captain, never forget that.”

The keyword had been uttered and he, as a responsible high-prided leader, would prefer death to yielding. He was curious about Fuji anyway. With a slight incline of his head, he gave his agreement and pulled himself back from the sight of the coach. Time to think of a way. The solemn captain almost heard naught of his friends and teammates farewells as he made his way to the changing room. Plans were cramped in his brain and among them, yet he had seen one suitable enough to be carried out regarding whom the subject was.

Apparently a strapping decision was needless as he opened the club’s door and found no other than the prodigy himself wrapped in nothing but a pair of shorts. If Fuji was caught off by his sudden appearance, he clearly showed none of it for the smile merely stayed there, or even went rather wider unless his eyes were taken under some spells.

He himself was not completely unaffected by the sight unfolding before him. He never could be indifferent in every details concerning Fuji and the fact that he was shirtless did him no good. However, as fast as the irreverent thought seeped through his mind, he hurled them out. Fuji was merely a friend, a stranger more so, and he would not welcome any interruption to his mission, unconcerned whether it came from inside or outside him.

In time no more than a second, his every thing was set back on place. In coldness that any falling snow would be proud it was acquired, the captain glided in, leaving the door behind him closing itself.

“Ah, Tezuka.”

The soft voice again, the one always taunting him gently in temptation more than he was able to bear. To hear the calling of his name was obviously no new matter to him, leave alone to make him so terribly enthralled. Yet, with only two words to utter, the voice could sing, or at least how it appeared to his ears.

He offered no reply and merely walked passing him. His mind, by some undetectable causes, ran frantically in order to find a way materializing Ryuzaki-sensei’s words. Regrettably, only failure wished to answer.

They resumed both activities in quiet. If there was a thing Tezuka found amusingly comfortable in Fuji’s company, it was his forbearance to stay still without feeling the need of any spoken word. He knew how to appreciate silence, which was valued highly by the captain himself. But time kept wearing off and he was perfectly aware that such of a chance might not stumble upon him twice. On the upcoming days, the prodigy could have been flocked either by his teammates or friends, that he had no opportunity to speak his mind freely. It was now or never.

“Fuji, we need to talk.”

The other guy continued to beam flatly as he was already expecting that particular announcement to come, sooner or later. Inwardly, Tezuka frowned. He had chosen not to replay the way he had asked Echizen for a match just a few weeks ago, merely because he was able to guess how Fuji would react. Unlike the first year, despite shrugging it off, the tensai would inquire ‘why’ and the captain was not sure he was well prepared enough to give him a decent answer. Still, this newly found method hardly gained any of its expected outcomes. Perhaps it was how Fuji answered in some matters, with no word or gesture. He only waited.

Quietly convinced that the prodigy was listening to him at any rate, the leader brought his next idea forth. Strike it straight to the prey.

“On this Sunday, have a match with me.”

There was a heavy silence following his plain words. Both were waiting, Tezuka for the answer and Fuji if there was still undeclared speech left behind his captain’s lips. For two full minutes, the room was filled with tense as no one made any move.

“Why?” Apparently his prayer was not granted and he found himself once again thinking hard to compile syllables into sentences. Unaware he was, that the most fitting answer lay imperturbably on the edge of his tongue, unnoticed. At least not until he had ran out of words and in desperate need, gave the only utterance crossing his mind.

“To play.”

For a second, it seemed that Fuji was somehow attracted to the idea of playing squarely against his captain. But the fleeting emotion had been entirely swept away before Tezuka could convince himself that it did exist. They waited for another sixty seconds before he witnessed the most impossible happening took place before his very own eyes, leaving all impressions he had for Fuji in ruins.

In the scarlet glimmer of sunset the prodigy stood, showered with gold. Yet, he could still discern the sparkle of azure appeared on the yellowish face as the eyes flung open.

“I’m honored.”

Tezuka would have taken a few steps back if he did not feel the locker looming ominously behind him. From behind the façade of a merry young man, emerged the pitch-black soul of a villain. A murderer. The shell did not seem so empty now that he had learned the truth well. Nonetheless, he failed not to feel amazed of how the assassin could veil himself so fine despite the fact that they were constantly dancing around each other at least for two long hours every day.

Fuji leant back to the wall behind him in leisure, which made the captain grew tense even so slightly. He must not be careless –he was facing the guy hunted down by every single person in I2 and had managed to escape their sight for the last eight years.

There was a chuckle coming from where the prodigy was standing. His gaze flickered to the still-beaming guy. Accompanied by the menacing blue eyes, the smile no longer remained vacant. Instead it brought fear to anyone earning the chance to discern it. Terrifyingly merciless it was. Tezuka could spend a great span of time only to contemplate how a sort of smile could ever exist in a very much living human who obviously owned a heart.

“Unfortunately, Tezuka,” Fuji started, his voice was coated with wintry sweetness, “I am no longer in the state able to accept your offer. I have a promise made on this Sunday with your vice-captain.”

The captain almost sighed in relief as the polite decline was said. Spending a couple hours alone with Fuji did not seem to be an excellent idea, especially after the fact he had just discovered. The strain that might occur must be beyond any normal man’s tolerance and he clearly had not planned to experience it himself, as weird as he was.

“Next time perhaps,” Tezuka dismissed the subject as he turned on his heels, facing the locker which could keep him busy for a several good minutes. Every sense of his consciousness was turned on, for he would not risk a thing by being alone with a murderer. Could not see, he might be, but definitely not could not feel.

“Indeed, next time,” he was able to hear a hint of malicious pleasure within the voice which no longer lingered as a song to his ears.

“Before we meet again behind another window.”

Tezuka stood still, listening to the sound of the room’s door being opened and thoroughly closed. Light footsteps were waning as the owner strode away into the darkness offered by the night. Inside the dim chamber the captain was left, absorbed by his own brain that no longer he recognized as his. Such a useless uncontrollable device was impossible to be his, yet it occupied the most space of his head.

It was undoubtedly a declaration of an open war. Or if it were not, why would Fuji risk in challenging him, the one who almost succeeded to catch him?

His head was spinning for he could not come to a plausible reason of why. And there was one more matter to worry about. His presence. Not idly did a skilled assassin emerge in an ordinary high school. Now he had to keep an eye on his friends, making sure that they were not to be harmed.

The silence was almost deafening as he felt his heart was heavily flanked. Peril seemed to be popping up every here and then, scattered all around him, waiting ostentatiously. No one to trust, now that he had learned there was a villain able to shelter himself peacefully beside him undetected. How such a mistake could ever take place, Tezuka had no idea.

So Fuji was the murderer.

Only chirps of crickets answered.

--- ---

Fuji’s Residence

July 9 – 06:57 p.m.

Fuji stepped into his residence lightly, as his left hand shut the gate close. He was indeed in an incredibly rare good mood, due to the incident between the captain and him not an hour ago. The tranquility of night greeted him, at the spacious garden which decorated the lawn before their main house.

He breathed the cool unsoiled air in contentment. Things could never be better with all rules were within his grasp. And the little rendezvous he experienced with the presence of his captain, who appeared to be the only witness of his crime, was not one to be overlooked. He knew not of how much the taller guy had seen that night and whether his clandestine works had been revealed at last.

But he should be able to find out.

The gap between the front gate and the main house was effortlessly lapped by him before he took his shoes off, feeling the cool hard surface of wooden floor beneath his feet. His home was always this silent, this serene, which others might find eerie with the number of Fuji’s families living there. They held true together, as qualified assassins under the lead of his mother, but spoke little out of their errand. How he wished his cheerful little brother was there. Yuuta was always the fussy one, with that childish demeanor of his.

“Aniki! Okaeri!” Well, perhaps some dreams meant to be granted after all.

“Tadaima,” the older one calmly replied, his face shone with joy it could never conceal. His younger brother was the only distraction in his lonely life of a murderer. But now, when he was supposed to stay at his boarding school –St. Rudolph Gakuen- Fuji had lesser diversion and thoroughly missed his brother’s presence.

Yuuta grinned at the sight of his miraculous brother. “I was wondering when you would finally come home. How about your mission in Seigaku? I heard it was a school filled by tennis aces.”

“Indeed, it is,” Fuji retorted as he strode into the house following his brother, “I meet a number of great players and there are two that interest me most. I can hardly wait to play a match with them.”

“If you, the prodigy, says that, then it must be true,” Yuuta sank himself on a couch and beckoned the elder brother to take the place beside him. “Then your target? Didn’t you mention that he was also in the tennis club?”

The top assassin thought for a moment, focusing his mind to the name of Oishi Shuichirou. He had the every data he could think of, with an amount of which even Inui would smile benevolently out of pride. None was left to say, since monitoring him was the only task he believed was trusted into his hand. Now he merely waited and watched quietly, until another order was brought forth.

“I think all go well,” he eventually replied.

His brother raised his eyebrows, clearly unsatisfied by a sort of swift and cliché answer. “All go well? How can things go well when you have not even bring it to an end?”

Fuji put the mask full of satisfaction on his face. “It may yet to reach the end, but I have made a promise to have a date with him on this Sunday. What do you think of it?”

There was a silence –a real complete silence since there was no other but them in that current room- as thick as grey rainy clouds. Yuuta discerned straight to the closed eyelids of his phenomenal brother. How he could easily entrap anyone he aimed for remained unknown to the less infamous younger sibling. He had forbidden himself to be buried in envy, yet he could not stop its breeding in some impassable dark corners of his heart. Deliberately, he closed his eyes and heaved a sigh, before readied himself to response.

“It’s good to hear,” he forcefully gave a comment with a smile, “you may be able to collect some more information by dating him.”

“That is what I want.”

Another silence took over and it was getting uncomfortable. The prodigy suddenly stood up, saying cheerfully about to change his clothes before dinner, and got out of the room. The younger brother was left at ease alone with his thought.

He watched the closed door in apprehension. Somehow, he felt that his aniki had changed. He had never spoken with so much passion regarding tennis before, not until today when he gave a comment about Seigaku. And he seemed to almost like his new school. Of course, the prodigy looked much more alive with those emotions he began learning to bear. But whether the turn of tide conveyed them goodness or evil, he knew not.

Perhaps he would eventually reach the rate of a living human. Yet, perhaps they would simply stay under the shadow their mother had woven. Future still lay silently discreet ahead them, remained unfathomable.

Ramblings : The story has begun! But still, it hasn’t reached the main plot, Tezuka and Fuji haven’t even realized the feeling they harbor for each other! If you are curious of what will happen next, please give me reviews. Therefore I will know that someone really reads this story. Anyway, thank you for reading!