[Fic] Great Lengths (for impressioniste)
Title: Great Lengths
Author: happiestwhen
Recipient: impressioniste
Pairing/Characters: Inui/Tezuka, little bits of Yanagi, Mizuki, and of course the rest of Seigaku
Rating: PG
Summary: There is a strong likelihood that Inui likes Tezuka. More than 95%.
Notes: I hope you enjoy this! :)
Over the past two weeks, Inui has been slipping in his routines. At first it was just trivial things like forgetting to write his name at the top of his paper, but it slowly progressed to bigger things, like leaving his favorite pen in his desk, or forgetting to bring a pen to school at all, or, most unforgivably, forgetting to meet Kaidoh for training two mornings in a row.
Obviously these were behavior anomalies, Inui thinks, taking a tally of the specific instances, times, and dates. He is completely at a loss to their cause, exploring everything from diet to climate change and turning up nothing.
One evening after he misfiles his Tezuka data notebooks (one ended up under his pillow somehow), Inui calls up Renji for advice. He thinks about calling Tezuka and nearly hits his name on speed-dial but something in his chest tenses up and he hesitates. Tezuka wouldn't offer him anything beyond a dial tone, anyway.
Renji answers on the second ring, and he knows. Renji always knows.
"This isn't like you," he comments, sounding more amused than concerned. "Someone is altering your behavioral patterns."
"Someone?" Inui can't hide the worry in his voice. "Like an alien force?"
Renji laughs. "No, I mean you have feelings for someone. They're distracting you."
Inui switches the phone to his other ear. "I have feelings for a lot of people. I have feelings for you, for example."
"I know, Sadaharu. I mean… romantic feelings."
Inui can feel himself go pale in the face. "I have no idea what you're talking about. There must be another, more logically sound explanation for this." Inui has read about romance plenty, but none of it was based in hard science. Sure there were explanations like brain chemistry and hormones, but when it came down to it, it was all very… mushy and abstract.
"Try to think, Hakase. Who were you thinking about all the times you forgot things?"
Inui tries to remember.
And then it hits him.
With all the force of a zero-shiki drop shot.
"I have to go," he says quickly and can hear Renji chuckle in the second before he hangs up.
*
The cause of the behavior anomaly is that, Inui has concluded, there is a strong likelihood that he likes Tezuka. More than 95%, with a margin of error of just 0.5%. Inui doesn't want to say that it's certain he likes Tezuka, because Inui has never liked anyone before, not in the romantic kind of way. He doesn't have anything to compare it to. He's working without precedent, without control group. He doesn't like that uncertainty, especially when he's almost positive (98%) that Tezuka does not reciprocate his feelings.
Upon discovery of this anomaly, Inui has begun to review and reconsider all of his observations about Tezuka. He's reread and dog-eared the pages of his seven Tezuka notebooks, each one filled with every possible detail of Tezuka's life and habits. Inui knows how long Tezuka spends in the bath, as determined from the times (six) he stood pressed against the outside wall of Tezuka's house listening to the water running and splashing. He knows Tezuka's monthly allowance budget down to the yen, from the receipts he gathered and compiled from the Seigaku tennis club trashcan. Inui had never given a second thought to how much data he has on Tezuka, never thought that it might be excessive. But he doesn't know how long Momoshiro or Fuji bathes, and hasn't ever tried to find out.
Now he is beginning to understand why. Beating Tezuka has been Inui's goal for so long now that it clouded his focus. Maybe beating Tezuka at tennis was never the only goal at all.
Inui starts a new notebook with Tezuka's personal data. He titles it something completely boring and off-putting so no one would bother to open and read it: "Fungal growth in deep ocean caves". He guards the notebook with his life, even going so far as to tape it to back panel of the top drawer in his desk and obscuring it with a thermos and box of thumbtacks. In it, he compiles the evidence, separating it into columns. 1) That he likes Tezuka / 2) That he doesn't like Tezuka. The latter column is empty apart from a question: "Do romantic feelings really generate spontaneously?" He thinks there should have been more warning signs. His skills of prediction are usually better than this.
On the following pages are more lists of evidence, that Tezuka likes boys, that Tezuka doesn't like boys. That Tezuka likes him, that Tezuka doesn't like him. That Tezuka is capable of romantic feelings and that Tezuka isn't. The last list is especially inconclusive.
*
Later that week, Inui asks Kikumaru what people do when they like each other, what you do when you want to date someone, when you become their boyfriend. Kikumaru replies cheerfully about sharing parfaits and doing purikura pictures together at the arcade and having a first kiss together under an umbrella. Inui can't imagine doing any of those things with Tezuka. He can only really imagine Tezuka on the court, across the net, always with that same stoic expression. Always with that distance.
Why did Inui have to like the least dateable person in Seigaku?
"Do you like someone, Inui?" Kikumaru asks, and it takes Inui a moment to realize he's been standing there for nearly a minute waiting for an answer.
Inui shakes his head. "I am just gathering data," he says seriously.
"Su~ure," Kikumaru replies with a wink. Then his eyes go wide. "Oh! You should look at this month's issue of Pop-Teen! They have some great quizzes about your ideal lover, how to find out if your special someone likes you and what your perfect date location is! Here, you can borrow mine. My sisters are done reading it." He thrusts it into Inui's hands.
"Isn't this magazine intended for a female readership?" Inui turns it over skeptically in his hands. A blonde model smiles coyly out at him from the cover.
"I'm sure it's still fine for data. I take the quizzes all the time!"
Inui smiles and thanks him. He wonders how accurate the quiz results could be for him, since "Tezuka Kunimitsu" is probably not even an option in the "ideal lover" quiz.
*
The quizzes all gave him the same general advice - that he needs to "put himself out there" to get the "one" to notice him. Inui isn't entirely sure what that means but there one suggestion of "wearing a cute outfit and trying out new makeup to get yourself noticed".
Inui swipes some of his father's cologne from the bathroom. It's not quite makeup or a cute outfit but maybe it will have a similar effect.
"Inui-senpai you smell weird today," Echizen says blankly, in between sips of grape soda.
"What's that odor?" Oishi frets, looking worried. "Do we have a gas leak?"
Inui looks at Tezuka and thinks their eyes meet but the moment passes too quickly for Inui to know for sure.
Another suggestion is music. Mood music. It doesn't get even the slightest reaction from Tezuka but does cause Kaidoh to blush furiously and hastily retreat from the clubhouse. At least it yielded some interesting data, Inui thinks.
He even tries packing a bento with a red bean heart on the center of the rice, the "perfect love result!" suggestion from the magazine. It doesn't quite go as planned: "Senpai! This is delicious!" Momoshiro exclaims as he practically inhales the entire meal before Inui is able to stop him. Inui adds another point to the percentage chance that Momoshiro is actually part wild dog.
He wonders if maybe he is being too subtle. Maybe Tezuka wants big gestures, ones that won't be interrupted by rabid teammates. But when Inui shows up on the court with a dozen roses tied with a lavender ribbon, even though Momoshiro and Kikumaru hoot and holler encouragement and "Who's the lucky lady?", Tezuka's expression remains completely blank and all he has to say is, "Fifty laps." There might have been a smile at the corner of his mouth or maybe that was a twitch of irritation.
Inui isn't sure how to get through to him. He thinks that to get Tezuka to notice and like him back, in the proper boyfriend-y romantic way, would be more difficult than trying to solve for pi.
*
He starts to sort it out in his head, into an if clause. If I like Tezuka then - but he isn't sure how to finish the proof. He doesn't know what the conclusion should be. He doesn't know what the prescribed course of action is in cases like these.
He tries a different approach: If Tezuka likes me-- and stops, feeling a sudden swelling in his chest at the thought, like when he swallows soda too quickly.
*
A second anomaly surfaces when Inui begins receiving strange, anonymous gifts. They aren't romantic in nature - a new protractor, a pen set to replace the one that suffered irrevocable juice damage last week, grip tape for his racket, a case for his Vaio laptop. He runs through a mental list of suspects. Fuji looks suspicious, but then, Fuji always looks suspicious, and Inui caught Mizuki hiding in the bushes behind the clubhouse, a pair of binoculars blinking back at him as he went to get a drink of water, but that is far from unusual.
Inui is running laps with Fuji when he decides to broach the subject.
"Maybe someone likes you," Fuji says. He doesn't sound out of breath at all even though it's their ninth lap. He also doesn't sound remotely surprised.
Inui relaxes his pace a little and they fall into an easy jog. "But Pop-Teen said people give flowers and chocolate if they like you."
"Maybe this person knows you better than Pop-Teen," Fuji replies, the corners of his mouth curling up.
"Fuji…" Inui starts, eyebrows raising. "If you know who it is, you should tell me."
"Maybe it's a secret." Fuji's tone is almost mockingly playful. "You know what it's like to have a secret crush."
"I-What? No. I don't know anything about that!"
"Don't worry so much about it, Inui. There is hope as long as your line is in the water."
Inui stops running. "Why are you talking about fishing?"
Fuji just turns around and smiles, jogging backwards now. "It will work itself out!"
From the clubhouse, Tezuka yells, "Five more laps!"
*
Inui wonders what Fuji meant about his fishing line. Maybe he was saying he'd need a hook and rod to catch Tezuka.
It probably wouldn't be too far from the truth.
He tries to stage meetings with Tezuka, accidental run-ins to try to get conclusive results. Could Tezuka like him back? Is it even within the realm of possibility? He walks with Tezuka to lunch and tries to engage him in conversation about movie theaters and restaurants, whether he likes to go to those places alone or with others, whether he notices couples there. Tezuka doesn't respond but his glasses flash and his expression changes a little.
Or maybe it doesn't. It is hard for Inui to tell.
He pulls out his baseball cap and follows Tezuka home, trying to draw conclusions from his footfalls, but he walks with the same determination that he always does.
He does the same thing the next day, and the day after that, but soon realizes that any efforts to take data are compromised by the fact that Inui can't stop staring at the way Tezuka's shoulders move under his uniform jacket.
The anomaly is becoming more serious than he thought.
*
Inui has long, elaborate, completely nonsensical dreams about Tezuka: Tezuka as a damsel in a tower with long, voluminous curls of hair like the models from Pop-Teen that Inui tugs and tugs on but can't seem to climb. Tezuka as a fish and Inui as a fish too but Tezuka swims much faster and leaves Inui behind in a swirl of bubbles. Tezuka as an evil hacker who cracks into Inui's computer and steals all of his data, all of his secrets about how he likes Tezuka and wants to kiss him under umbrellas.
Inui starts to keep a dream notebook, wondering if the cause of the anomaly is not Tezuka at all, but rather Inui's increasingly mentally unstable psyche.
He grows convinced that Tezuka couldn't like him back. It's just not probable. He wonders how statistically likely it is for someone with glasses to be attracted to someone else with glasses. Does Tezuka find glasses sexy? Does Tezuka find Inui sexy?
He thinks about asking Tezuka but isn't sure it's the kind of thing you ask without cause or preamble. Inui has more than a dozen drafts in his mobile inbox, messages to Tezuka that he's simply been unable to send over the past few weeks because they're too… weird, for lack of a better word.
Tezuka never responds anyway so he probably hasn't noticed the reduced volume.
*
The next day is the day everything changes.
It starts as a normal day. Inui goes through his routine:
He wakes up.
He goes to class.
He has a stilted and awkward conversation with Tezuka on the way to lunch, riddled with pauses and Inui trying not to blurt out exactly how he's feeling. He wishes he could be more like Momoshiro, just spitting out everything that's on his mind.
He goes to the rest of his classes.
He goes to tennis practice.
He finds another strange anonymous gift, the third this week. This time it's a bookmark with the words "You cannot plough a field by turning it over in your mind" in ornate calligraphy.
He picks up his bag and walks home; not noticing there's anything wrong until he gets through the door and drops his bag down on his bed.
Only, it isn't his bag. He reads the embroidered name across the top: Tezuka Kunimitsu.
Something catches in Inui's throat, like a clump of shiny new data has lodged itself in his throat and he's choking on the possibilities. He unzips the bag gingerly and starts to pore through the contents, mentally filing them into compartments in his mind.
Tennis racket. Tennis jersey that smells like Tezuka.
A pile of papers at the bottom of the bag clipped together with a black clamp. Inui pulls them out. A list: "• pens - black, three sizes, • tape - 3cm, black, Mizuno, • case, VAIO C-1, • protractor". It continues.
Underneath are four drafts of a letter. Three are scratched out, red editing marks across the words. The last one is finished and untouched:
Inui-- It has come to my attention that I have, for an indeterminate amount of time, been developing sentimental feelings for you. Your actions lead me to believe that you may harbor similar feelings. Please respond with how you wish to proceed.
The pile of papers falls from Inui's hands.
*
It has been an hour and Inui hasn't moved from his bed. His finger has been hovering over Tezuka's name in his contacts list for just as long when the name suddenly fills the screen and flashes with an incoming call.
Tezuka never calls first.
"Hello?" Inui answers uncertainly.
There is silence before- "We seem to have taken each other's bags by mistake."
"Yes," Inui replies, a little too quickly. "I'm sorry."
"I'll come to your house." The words sound clunky coming out of Tezuka's mouth. Then the receiver clicks.
*
Twenty minutes later the doorbell rings and Inui nearly jumps out of his seat. He carries the bag out, trying to act casual, even though he's sure his face is broadcasting, He likes me! He really likes me! for all the world to see.
When he opens the door, Tezuka is standing there with a nearly identical bag over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Inui says, handing Tezuka's over. Tezuka does the same, and then takes a step closer, into the doorway.
"Did you read my letter?" he asks, with the same tone he might use to ask about a change to the practice line-up.
Inui shuffles backwards a step. "I-"
"I knew you would. I switched our bags on purpose."
Inui's eyes widen. All he can make himself say is, "Tezuka?"
"You followed me home," Tezuka continues.
"That-That wasn't me! That must have been someone else."
"Four times."
Inui hangs his head. "I thought you wouldn't notice." When he looks up, Tezuka's expression has changed.
He's smiling. Not a full-on smile, but there is definitely an upturn to his expression. His eyes are soft.
"So, what should we do?" he asks.
Inui feels frozen. His mind is running with ideas. Movie. Photo booth. Dinner. Umbrella. Parfait. Kiss. He doesn't know how to react. Usually in these kind of scenarios, he calls Tezuka for advice, but now the situation is all aboutTezuka and Inui had never really had a contingency plan for "these kind of scenarios" in the first place since they were always well out of the realm of probable speculation and for once he is completely and utterly unsure of what to do.
But Tezuka isn't faltering. Suddenly his hand is on Inui's shoulder, warm and firm, and he steps closer, closing the gap between them.
Inui feels Tezuka's mouth on his before his mind is fully able to process what is happening. It isn't exactly the fireworks that Pop-Teen had promised, and their glasses knock together and Inui steps on Tezuka's toes trying to get a better angle that doesn't involve noses bumping together… But it is still really, really good.
He doesn't think he needs to write this data down to remember it. He has a feeling it will happen again anyway.
99% likelihood, in fact.
Author: happiestwhen
Recipient: impressioniste
Pairing/Characters: Inui/Tezuka, little bits of Yanagi, Mizuki, and of course the rest of Seigaku
Rating: PG
Summary: There is a strong likelihood that Inui likes Tezuka. More than 95%.
Notes: I hope you enjoy this! :)
Over the past two weeks, Inui has been slipping in his routines. At first it was just trivial things like forgetting to write his name at the top of his paper, but it slowly progressed to bigger things, like leaving his favorite pen in his desk, or forgetting to bring a pen to school at all, or, most unforgivably, forgetting to meet Kaidoh for training two mornings in a row.
Obviously these were behavior anomalies, Inui thinks, taking a tally of the specific instances, times, and dates. He is completely at a loss to their cause, exploring everything from diet to climate change and turning up nothing.
One evening after he misfiles his Tezuka data notebooks (one ended up under his pillow somehow), Inui calls up Renji for advice. He thinks about calling Tezuka and nearly hits his name on speed-dial but something in his chest tenses up and he hesitates. Tezuka wouldn't offer him anything beyond a dial tone, anyway.
Renji answers on the second ring, and he knows. Renji always knows.
"This isn't like you," he comments, sounding more amused than concerned. "Someone is altering your behavioral patterns."
"Someone?" Inui can't hide the worry in his voice. "Like an alien force?"
Renji laughs. "No, I mean you have feelings for someone. They're distracting you."
Inui switches the phone to his other ear. "I have feelings for a lot of people. I have feelings for you, for example."
"I know, Sadaharu. I mean… romantic feelings."
Inui can feel himself go pale in the face. "I have no idea what you're talking about. There must be another, more logically sound explanation for this." Inui has read about romance plenty, but none of it was based in hard science. Sure there were explanations like brain chemistry and hormones, but when it came down to it, it was all very… mushy and abstract.
"Try to think, Hakase. Who were you thinking about all the times you forgot things?"
Inui tries to remember.
And then it hits him.
With all the force of a zero-shiki drop shot.
"I have to go," he says quickly and can hear Renji chuckle in the second before he hangs up.
*
The cause of the behavior anomaly is that, Inui has concluded, there is a strong likelihood that he likes Tezuka. More than 95%, with a margin of error of just 0.5%. Inui doesn't want to say that it's certain he likes Tezuka, because Inui has never liked anyone before, not in the romantic kind of way. He doesn't have anything to compare it to. He's working without precedent, without control group. He doesn't like that uncertainty, especially when he's almost positive (98%) that Tezuka does not reciprocate his feelings.
Upon discovery of this anomaly, Inui has begun to review and reconsider all of his observations about Tezuka. He's reread and dog-eared the pages of his seven Tezuka notebooks, each one filled with every possible detail of Tezuka's life and habits. Inui knows how long Tezuka spends in the bath, as determined from the times (six) he stood pressed against the outside wall of Tezuka's house listening to the water running and splashing. He knows Tezuka's monthly allowance budget down to the yen, from the receipts he gathered and compiled from the Seigaku tennis club trashcan. Inui had never given a second thought to how much data he has on Tezuka, never thought that it might be excessive. But he doesn't know how long Momoshiro or Fuji bathes, and hasn't ever tried to find out.
Now he is beginning to understand why. Beating Tezuka has been Inui's goal for so long now that it clouded his focus. Maybe beating Tezuka at tennis was never the only goal at all.
Inui starts a new notebook with Tezuka's personal data. He titles it something completely boring and off-putting so no one would bother to open and read it: "Fungal growth in deep ocean caves". He guards the notebook with his life, even going so far as to tape it to back panel of the top drawer in his desk and obscuring it with a thermos and box of thumbtacks. In it, he compiles the evidence, separating it into columns. 1) That he likes Tezuka / 2) That he doesn't like Tezuka. The latter column is empty apart from a question: "Do romantic feelings really generate spontaneously?" He thinks there should have been more warning signs. His skills of prediction are usually better than this.
On the following pages are more lists of evidence, that Tezuka likes boys, that Tezuka doesn't like boys. That Tezuka likes him, that Tezuka doesn't like him. That Tezuka is capable of romantic feelings and that Tezuka isn't. The last list is especially inconclusive.
*
Later that week, Inui asks Kikumaru what people do when they like each other, what you do when you want to date someone, when you become their boyfriend. Kikumaru replies cheerfully about sharing parfaits and doing purikura pictures together at the arcade and having a first kiss together under an umbrella. Inui can't imagine doing any of those things with Tezuka. He can only really imagine Tezuka on the court, across the net, always with that same stoic expression. Always with that distance.
Why did Inui have to like the least dateable person in Seigaku?
"Do you like someone, Inui?" Kikumaru asks, and it takes Inui a moment to realize he's been standing there for nearly a minute waiting for an answer.
Inui shakes his head. "I am just gathering data," he says seriously.
"Su~ure," Kikumaru replies with a wink. Then his eyes go wide. "Oh! You should look at this month's issue of Pop-Teen! They have some great quizzes about your ideal lover, how to find out if your special someone likes you and what your perfect date location is! Here, you can borrow mine. My sisters are done reading it." He thrusts it into Inui's hands.
"Isn't this magazine intended for a female readership?" Inui turns it over skeptically in his hands. A blonde model smiles coyly out at him from the cover.
"I'm sure it's still fine for data. I take the quizzes all the time!"
Inui smiles and thanks him. He wonders how accurate the quiz results could be for him, since "Tezuka Kunimitsu" is probably not even an option in the "ideal lover" quiz.
*
The quizzes all gave him the same general advice - that he needs to "put himself out there" to get the "one" to notice him. Inui isn't entirely sure what that means but there one suggestion of "wearing a cute outfit and trying out new makeup to get yourself noticed".
Inui swipes some of his father's cologne from the bathroom. It's not quite makeup or a cute outfit but maybe it will have a similar effect.
"Inui-senpai you smell weird today," Echizen says blankly, in between sips of grape soda.
"What's that odor?" Oishi frets, looking worried. "Do we have a gas leak?"
Inui looks at Tezuka and thinks their eyes meet but the moment passes too quickly for Inui to know for sure.
Another suggestion is music. Mood music. It doesn't get even the slightest reaction from Tezuka but does cause Kaidoh to blush furiously and hastily retreat from the clubhouse. At least it yielded some interesting data, Inui thinks.
He even tries packing a bento with a red bean heart on the center of the rice, the "perfect love result!" suggestion from the magazine. It doesn't quite go as planned: "Senpai! This is delicious!" Momoshiro exclaims as he practically inhales the entire meal before Inui is able to stop him. Inui adds another point to the percentage chance that Momoshiro is actually part wild dog.
He wonders if maybe he is being too subtle. Maybe Tezuka wants big gestures, ones that won't be interrupted by rabid teammates. But when Inui shows up on the court with a dozen roses tied with a lavender ribbon, even though Momoshiro and Kikumaru hoot and holler encouragement and "Who's the lucky lady?", Tezuka's expression remains completely blank and all he has to say is, "Fifty laps." There might have been a smile at the corner of his mouth or maybe that was a twitch of irritation.
Inui isn't sure how to get through to him. He thinks that to get Tezuka to notice and like him back, in the proper boyfriend-y romantic way, would be more difficult than trying to solve for pi.
*
He starts to sort it out in his head, into an if clause. If I like Tezuka then - but he isn't sure how to finish the proof. He doesn't know what the conclusion should be. He doesn't know what the prescribed course of action is in cases like these.
He tries a different approach: If Tezuka likes me-- and stops, feeling a sudden swelling in his chest at the thought, like when he swallows soda too quickly.
*
A second anomaly surfaces when Inui begins receiving strange, anonymous gifts. They aren't romantic in nature - a new protractor, a pen set to replace the one that suffered irrevocable juice damage last week, grip tape for his racket, a case for his Vaio laptop. He runs through a mental list of suspects. Fuji looks suspicious, but then, Fuji always looks suspicious, and Inui caught Mizuki hiding in the bushes behind the clubhouse, a pair of binoculars blinking back at him as he went to get a drink of water, but that is far from unusual.
Inui is running laps with Fuji when he decides to broach the subject.
"Maybe someone likes you," Fuji says. He doesn't sound out of breath at all even though it's their ninth lap. He also doesn't sound remotely surprised.
Inui relaxes his pace a little and they fall into an easy jog. "But Pop-Teen said people give flowers and chocolate if they like you."
"Maybe this person knows you better than Pop-Teen," Fuji replies, the corners of his mouth curling up.
"Fuji…" Inui starts, eyebrows raising. "If you know who it is, you should tell me."
"Maybe it's a secret." Fuji's tone is almost mockingly playful. "You know what it's like to have a secret crush."
"I-What? No. I don't know anything about that!"
"Don't worry so much about it, Inui. There is hope as long as your line is in the water."
Inui stops running. "Why are you talking about fishing?"
Fuji just turns around and smiles, jogging backwards now. "It will work itself out!"
From the clubhouse, Tezuka yells, "Five more laps!"
*
Inui wonders what Fuji meant about his fishing line. Maybe he was saying he'd need a hook and rod to catch Tezuka.
It probably wouldn't be too far from the truth.
He tries to stage meetings with Tezuka, accidental run-ins to try to get conclusive results. Could Tezuka like him back? Is it even within the realm of possibility? He walks with Tezuka to lunch and tries to engage him in conversation about movie theaters and restaurants, whether he likes to go to those places alone or with others, whether he notices couples there. Tezuka doesn't respond but his glasses flash and his expression changes a little.
Or maybe it doesn't. It is hard for Inui to tell.
He pulls out his baseball cap and follows Tezuka home, trying to draw conclusions from his footfalls, but he walks with the same determination that he always does.
He does the same thing the next day, and the day after that, but soon realizes that any efforts to take data are compromised by the fact that Inui can't stop staring at the way Tezuka's shoulders move under his uniform jacket.
The anomaly is becoming more serious than he thought.
*
Inui has long, elaborate, completely nonsensical dreams about Tezuka: Tezuka as a damsel in a tower with long, voluminous curls of hair like the models from Pop-Teen that Inui tugs and tugs on but can't seem to climb. Tezuka as a fish and Inui as a fish too but Tezuka swims much faster and leaves Inui behind in a swirl of bubbles. Tezuka as an evil hacker who cracks into Inui's computer and steals all of his data, all of his secrets about how he likes Tezuka and wants to kiss him under umbrellas.
Inui starts to keep a dream notebook, wondering if the cause of the anomaly is not Tezuka at all, but rather Inui's increasingly mentally unstable psyche.
He grows convinced that Tezuka couldn't like him back. It's just not probable. He wonders how statistically likely it is for someone with glasses to be attracted to someone else with glasses. Does Tezuka find glasses sexy? Does Tezuka find Inui sexy?
He thinks about asking Tezuka but isn't sure it's the kind of thing you ask without cause or preamble. Inui has more than a dozen drafts in his mobile inbox, messages to Tezuka that he's simply been unable to send over the past few weeks because they're too… weird, for lack of a better word.
Tezuka never responds anyway so he probably hasn't noticed the reduced volume.
*
The next day is the day everything changes.
It starts as a normal day. Inui goes through his routine:
He wakes up.
He goes to class.
He has a stilted and awkward conversation with Tezuka on the way to lunch, riddled with pauses and Inui trying not to blurt out exactly how he's feeling. He wishes he could be more like Momoshiro, just spitting out everything that's on his mind.
He goes to the rest of his classes.
He goes to tennis practice.
He finds another strange anonymous gift, the third this week. This time it's a bookmark with the words "You cannot plough a field by turning it over in your mind" in ornate calligraphy.
He picks up his bag and walks home; not noticing there's anything wrong until he gets through the door and drops his bag down on his bed.
Only, it isn't his bag. He reads the embroidered name across the top: Tezuka Kunimitsu.
Something catches in Inui's throat, like a clump of shiny new data has lodged itself in his throat and he's choking on the possibilities. He unzips the bag gingerly and starts to pore through the contents, mentally filing them into compartments in his mind.
Tennis racket. Tennis jersey that smells like Tezuka.
A pile of papers at the bottom of the bag clipped together with a black clamp. Inui pulls them out. A list: "• pens - black, three sizes, • tape - 3cm, black, Mizuno, • case, VAIO C-1, • protractor". It continues.
Underneath are four drafts of a letter. Three are scratched out, red editing marks across the words. The last one is finished and untouched:
Inui-- It has come to my attention that I have, for an indeterminate amount of time, been developing sentimental feelings for you. Your actions lead me to believe that you may harbor similar feelings. Please respond with how you wish to proceed.
The pile of papers falls from Inui's hands.
*
It has been an hour and Inui hasn't moved from his bed. His finger has been hovering over Tezuka's name in his contacts list for just as long when the name suddenly fills the screen and flashes with an incoming call.
Tezuka never calls first.
"Hello?" Inui answers uncertainly.
There is silence before- "We seem to have taken each other's bags by mistake."
"Yes," Inui replies, a little too quickly. "I'm sorry."
"I'll come to your house." The words sound clunky coming out of Tezuka's mouth. Then the receiver clicks.
*
Twenty minutes later the doorbell rings and Inui nearly jumps out of his seat. He carries the bag out, trying to act casual, even though he's sure his face is broadcasting, He likes me! He really likes me! for all the world to see.
When he opens the door, Tezuka is standing there with a nearly identical bag over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Inui says, handing Tezuka's over. Tezuka does the same, and then takes a step closer, into the doorway.
"Did you read my letter?" he asks, with the same tone he might use to ask about a change to the practice line-up.
Inui shuffles backwards a step. "I-"
"I knew you would. I switched our bags on purpose."
Inui's eyes widen. All he can make himself say is, "Tezuka?"
"You followed me home," Tezuka continues.
"That-That wasn't me! That must have been someone else."
"Four times."
Inui hangs his head. "I thought you wouldn't notice." When he looks up, Tezuka's expression has changed.
He's smiling. Not a full-on smile, but there is definitely an upturn to his expression. His eyes are soft.
"So, what should we do?" he asks.
Inui feels frozen. His mind is running with ideas. Movie. Photo booth. Dinner. Umbrella. Parfait. Kiss. He doesn't know how to react. Usually in these kind of scenarios, he calls Tezuka for advice, but now the situation is all aboutTezuka and Inui had never really had a contingency plan for "these kind of scenarios" in the first place since they were always well out of the realm of probable speculation and for once he is completely and utterly unsure of what to do.
But Tezuka isn't faltering. Suddenly his hand is on Inui's shoulder, warm and firm, and he steps closer, closing the gap between them.
Inui feels Tezuka's mouth on his before his mind is fully able to process what is happening. It isn't exactly the fireworks that Pop-Teen had promised, and their glasses knock together and Inui steps on Tezuka's toes trying to get a better angle that doesn't involve noses bumping together… But it is still really, really good.
He doesn't think he needs to write this data down to remember it. He has a feeling it will happen again anyway.
99% likelihood, in fact.