Tezuka walked through his front door with a quietly uttered 'tadaima'. His mother was doing the laundry, as she usually did at this time of the day. He entered the kitchen to make something light to eat, as he usually did after returning home from school. He had no inkling that his day was about to turn as un-normal as it was ever going to get.
"Kikumaru-senpai, let's grab something to eat."
Eiji grinned and shrugged. Why not? But then Ryoma and Momoshiro smirked in unison and he sighed. How did they manage to do this to him on such a regular basis? He began to think that Fuji was giving them lessons on friendly manipulation.
"Senpai, treat your kouhai, ne?"
"Do I really have a choice?" He muttered under his breath as he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Where do you want to go?" He asked them. He didn't really have to, since they usually ended up eating at the same place, but it was a courtesy, nonetheless.
They had barely made it five hundred metres from the school gates when they saw Inui by a lamppost, scribbling something into one of his notebooks. He muttered something inaudible and flipped the notebook shut, and then walked off.
"I wonder whose data he's collecting now," Eiji mused.
They smiled, three identical impish grins.
Tezuka wiped up what little, if there was really any at all, mess from the dining table and carried his dishes and cutlery to the sink. He ran some water over them to rinse them first, then washed them by hand. There was no need to trouble his mother any more that was strictly necessary. He had just finished setting the cutlery to dry, when his mother poked her head into the doorway.
"Ne, Kunimitsu? I'll be going to the store to buy some groceries. You'll be okay in the house by yourself?"
Tezuka almost smiled. His mother liked to ask that periodically, even though she was well aware that her son was as independent and capable of looking after himself as any teenager could possibly be.
"I'll be fine," he assured her, as he always did whenever she happened to ask that particular question.
She flashed him a smile and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair as she used to when he was younger. She understood that her mature son found it rather embarrassing and ridiculous and had ceased such habits long ago. He really was like his grandfather, she mused.
"I'll make your favourites for dinner," she gave him a tiny brush of a kiss on his cheek on impulse. The startled, though not unpleasantly so, look was reward enough even if he said nothing. Yes, very much like his grandfather, indeed.
After tailing Inui for approximately ten minutes without successfully spotting the bespectacled data-collector's quarry, Eiji and Momoshiro quickly lost their patience. Ryoma, on the other hand, having been brought up by one of the most trying men in Japan—possibly the world—had more than enough patience for a stakeout.
He watched in amusement and partial fascination as his two senpai stormed up to Inui, who was once again busy jotting down data. Ryoma followed behind them at a more sedate, leisurely pace. He greeted Inui briefly, aware that Inui probably wasn't even listening to him—how could he possibly be, when he was being barraged with questions from both Kikumaru-senpai and Momo-senpai—and waited for Eiji and Momoshiro to pause in their interrogation so that Inui could reply.
Inui flipped his notebook shut in preparation to answer a few questions, and Ryoma caught the name appearing dominantly on one page.
"Inui-senpai, isn't that Fuji-senpai's data?"
Inui, glad that at least one of the three had the sense to let their eyes override their curiosity, nodded.
"What have you got?" Eiji tried to flip open the notebook, which Inui was still hold shut.
"Do you really think I'm going to let you look inside just like that?" Inui asked, one black brow arched.
Eiji sighed—he noticed that he seemed to be sighing a lot lately—and released the notebook. You never knew when Inui would unleash his next concoction, and it would be best not to anger him.
"Why are you following Fuji-senpai around?" Ryoma asked. The direct approach, he had noticed, seemed to work best on Inui.
Inui angled his head such that his glasses glinted ominously, and he grinned in a rather scary way. Ryoma fought the urge to back away. "Fuji has deviated in his normal habit. He doesn't usually take this route home." He continued walking, and they followed—like sheep, Ryoma thought briefly, led to the slaughter.
"In fact," Inui continued, pausing for effect. "This is the way to Tezuka's house."
"So he's going to Tezuka-buchou's house. What's so strange about that?"
"You'll see," Inui murmured cryptically. "I'm 100 sure that I'll gather some very interesting data today."
His glasses glinted eerily once more and he spun round, missing the triplicate of enormous sweatdrops his fellow Seigaku regulars produced—dehydration somehow didn't affect them too much.
Tezuka had switched on the water heater and was stripping out of his school uniform when he heard someone at the door. He frowned in annoyance and arranged his unbuttoned shirt so that it fell decently, coving his torso. He wondered who it was. Afternoons were usually quiet, since his mother didn't have visitors over very often and everyone knew that his father would be at work at this time of the day. He himself didn't invite his friends over much at all. As for his grandfather… Well, his grandfather wasn't even in town at the moment. Tawny hazel eyes narrowed—and when were they ever not—as he walked to the front door and opened it.
Tezuka blinked in surprise, unmoving. He stared at the gently smiling tensai like Fuji had suddenly grown three heads and four eyes.
"Can I come in?"
Snapped out of his shock, Tezuka moved aside and opened the door wider. "Of course." He saw Fuji glance briefly at him as he entered. "Is there anything you forgot to discuss with me at school today?" He asked, genuinely confused as to why Fuji would suddenly seek him out at home, when he usually did so in school. But then he remembered that Fuji never forgot anything.
"Well…" Fuji waited until Tezuka had shut the door. He was not going to give his buchou such an obvious escape route. Hell, he wasn't going to leave Tezuka any escape route, if he could help it. "Mm, did I interrupt you in the middle of anything?" He said, his velvet voice modulated to flowing tones, as if he had suddenly noticed Tezuka's state of partial undress.
Tezuka blinked owlishly again. Fuji grinned inwardly. He loved that look Tezuka got on the rare occasions where he was completely befuddled. Fuji took a step towards him and casually flicked one side of his shirt aside. "Your shirt, Tezuka. Unless you habitually walk around your house half naked." He added, when Tezuka continued staring.
"I was about to take a shower."
"Ah, then I'm sorry for imposing on you at such an inopportune time." Fuji was glad that he was able to lie with such a sincere face. "Why don't you finish your shower first? I'll wait for you."
Oh yes, he'd wait.
"I wouldn't want to inconvenience you-"
Fuji sighed with mock exasperation. "Tezuka, I was the one who showed up unannounced. I can wait." Well, he had waited years. What was another half-hour or so?
Without waiting for a reply, Fuji gently nudged Tezuka in the direction of the bathroom. "Is it okay if I wait for you in your room?"
"I suppose so."
"Good." Fuji smiled a little wider and nudged Tezuka towards the bathroom once more when the team captain simply stood there, staring like Fuji had gone insane. He left Tezuka standing there, and headed for the buchou's room.
Fuji hadn't been inside Tezuka's room very often, but he'd actually been inside before, which was a feat in itself, since Tezuka didn't let just anybody into his room. Tezuka was a neat freak, and it was evident by the immaculate state of his room. Everything seemed to be position at right angles to everything else, save the large radio next to one of his bookshelves. His bed was so smoothly made, it would have made housewives all over Japan weep with envy. Hell, even his pencils were lined up parallel to the edge of his study desk. Sometimes Fuji wondered if obsessive-compulsives started out this way.
Tezuka's window was shut, but he had several sheets of paper resting on his desk, and the last thing Fuji wanted to do was to have a gust of wind blow away something Tezuka was working on and ruin his plans. He removed his jacket, unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt for added ventilation, and looked around the room, wondering where to wait.
He contemplated sitting on the bed, but it was so wondrously and scrupulously…neat that Fuji felt bad about messing it up. But then he smiled, his deep blue eyes partially open, and decided that perhaps some things were better off rumpled and somewhat dishevelled. He also decided that some people also needed a bit of tousling. He grinned and poked at the bedspread. There was a lovely dent in Tezuka's nicely made bed now.
Then Fuji leapt onto it.
And that was how Tezuka found him when he entered his room: sprawled out on his bed with careless grace, jacket discarded on his previously-empty floor, shirt partially open. Fuji's eyes were shut. But then again, they usually were, and Tezuka wasn't sure if Fuji was sleeping, or simply thinking.
"Fuji?" He received no reply. Then again, the tensai could simply have been very deep in thought. "Fuji?" He tried again, his voice louder. Fuji didn't even stir. Tezuka laid a hand on the sleeping tensai's shoulder, unsure whether to wake him or let him rest awhile. He was stunned when Fuji moaned in his sleep and pressed into his touch.
"Fu-Fuji?" He removed his hand as if he had touched a pot straight off the stove. Confusion set in when Fuji made a soft whimpering sigh from the loss of contact.
Tezuka sat down on the bed, beside Fuji, at odds with himself over what to do. The tensai flushed rose-pink and sucked in a deep breath, arching his throat. Tezuka blushed at the sight. His teammate was very obviously caught in the midst of a dream. And from the looks of it, a rather erotic one. Fuji moaned again and writhed sensuously against the bed, his lips parted in a gasp of pleasure. A lock of honey-hued brown hair fell across his flushed face and Tezuka found himself brushing that lock of hair away.
Fuji sighed at the gentle, hesitant touch. He seemed to settle down for a moment. Telling himself that he was doing it simply to ease Fuji's sleep, he continued touching the tensai's face. He trailed his fingers along an elegant jaw line, calloused thumb softly caressing Fuji's cheekbone. Tezuka traced the borders of his reddened lips, fighting the sudden urge he felt to lean over and press a soft kiss on them.
Fuji moved his lips against Tezuka's thumb, murmuring in his sleep. Tezuka wondered briefly how those lips would feel against his own. Before he even knew it, he was slowly, but surely, bending over the tensai. His kiss was almost chaste.
Fuji hummed contentedly for a moment, then parted his lips in a blissful sigh. And then, he began to kiss Tezuka back. Tezuka opened his eyes in surprise—later, when he reflected on the day, he would realise just how many surprises he had gotten throughout the day—and found Fuji staring back at him, sapphire eyes heavy-lidded and pupils widely dilated. He tried to pull away, but found that he couldn't. Fuji wrapped his arms around Tezuka's neck and locked his legs around the stunned buchou's waist, effectively pinning Tezuka to him.
Tezuka mused absently that he'd forgotten how fast Fuji could be, and how much strength the tensai concealed within his slender frame.
And as suddenly as Fuji had locked Tezuka in his embrace, he managed to manoeuvre Tezuka beneath him. On his knees and straddling Tezuka's hips, he pulled away a fraction of an inch and whispered into his ear.
"You aren't getting away so easily, Tezuka." Then he sucked sensuously on his buchou's lower lip. "But I'll let you try anyway, if you want to," he added.
"I thought you were asleep," Tezuka said, wincing inwardly at how inane that sounded.
"Mm, so you thought to help yourself to me while I was unconscious?" Fuji lowered himself onto Tezuka. "How very unlike you." He trailed butterfly kisses down one side of Tezuka's jaw. "That's what it felt like you were doing," Fuji told him in a heated whisper. "When you were touching me." His tongue flitted out just to touch Tezuka's upper lip, then darted away. "When you wanted to kiss me."
"You were awake?" Tezuka wondered how he managed so speak with such coherence when he was barely able to think.
"Did you think that I was asleep?" Fuji silenced Tezuka's would-be answer with a demanding kiss and rubbed his body slowly against Tezuka's. "It's times like this that I prefer you silent."
He broke the hard kiss and made his way down to Tezuka's neck with a trail of tiny nips and soothing kisses. He heard the buchou's breaths come in rapid pants and smiled felinely. "You know, I couldn't decide, at first, whether to surprise you in the shower, or to just wait and let you come to me." He scraped his teeth over Tezuka's pulse, enjoying the shudder than ran through the tense length of his team captain's body. "The second held more appeal, in the end."
Tezuka never noticed when his had come to curl around Fuji. But he found one hand stroking the skin of Fuji's back, and the other tangled in fawn-brown hair. Fuji blew a moist breath over the spot he was currently focused on, then sucked on the patch of skin. Tezuka barely heard him speak as Fuji paused.
"Just to let you know, had my other idea won out, I would have licked you dry."
Tezuka Groaned at the wave of intense images that assailed his already overheated mind. "What did I do to piss you off?"
"Hm? You think that I'm punishing you?"
"Well, you're torturing me, aren't you?" Tezuka muttered dryly—which was amazing, considering the circumstances.
"Mm, Tezuka, you'll know it, if I decide to punish you a bit." He bit down lightly. "And you'll love it." He chuckled softly at the sharp gasp that he had wrung out from Tezuka.
"Well, we've reached buchou's house. Now what do we do?" Eiji asked Inui, who had stopped to jot down more notes. Eiji couldn't think of what Inui could find so useful in simply arriving at Tezuka's house.
"Let's go inside."
"Ano, isn't that trespassing, Inui-senpai?"
"Buchou won't be very pleased if he finds us sneaking into his house simply because Fuji-senpai was walking in this direction," Momoshiro added.
"I don't think he'll notice."
"Huh?" Momoshiro tilted his head to one side in confusion. How could Tezuka not notice? The captain had eyes like a hawk. He saw everything. Everything.
"I have a feeling that Fuji's keeping him very well…occupied." Inui stopped at that and said nothing else as he entered the threshold of the garden. Behind him, Eiji, Momoshiro and Ryoma were still deciding if assuaging their curiosity was worth the thousands of laps that Tezuka would surely make them run when he caught them.
Inui looked around the garden, then inside the window. Neither Tezuka nor Fuji was in sight. But Fuji's shoes were there by the door in plain sight. He was somewhere in the house. He tested the doorknob—not that he expected it to give, for the likelihood of that happening was only about 7, but simply to make sure he didn't waste his time exploring other methods of entry when an easier one was right there.
The knob turned and he was able to open the door.
"It's not locked? Tezuka always messes up my calculations," Inui mused, and jotted the observation down.
Apparently, seeing Inui open the front door was too much, for his three teammates were instantly beside him. Eiji peered around Inui and into the house. "Eh? No one's home."
"Of course they're here," Inui replied. "Fuji's shoes are just over there, and Tezuka's shoes are on the shoe rack."
"But if he's home, then why are we sneaking in? Shouldn't we just knock on the door and let him answer it?"
"Because he won't hear you."
Eiji was getting rather annoyed at Inui's cryptic remarks. None of them made any sense to him!
Inui reached into his pocket and drew out a slim metal case. On further inspection, it proved to be a very new digital camera. "Small and very good for getting data," he told them. "Although it's not as good for video than my camcorder."
"Then why not use your camcorder?" Momoshiro asked.
Inui raised one thick brow and smiled eerily. "Because for this, I think a video might be a bit much. Photos would be better." And safer, he thought. "And this has better photo quality than a camcorder."
"Ah," Momoshiro said, still not quite getting it.
"Actually, now that I think about it, I don't really think Echizen is old enough for this."
"For breaking and entering?" Ryoma snorted.
His glasses glinted in that scary way again and Ryoma barely managed to suppress a shudder from the feeling of sudden dread that he felt. "You'll see."
"I thought you said that I wasn't old enough?" He muttered.
Inui shrugged nonchalantly and adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses. "It makes no difference since you're already here. Your data says that the chances of me managing to get you to go home is 0."
They removed their shoes and entered Tezuka's house.
"Mm, Tezuka, you look so delicious when you're all red like this," Fuji murmured. He flicked his tongue over one flat nipple and felt it harden instantly. Tezuka squirmed incessantly beneath him. "I never figured you for a squirmer, but I think I like it." He sucked the firm nub into his mouth and bathed it in warm heat.
"Fuji!" Tezaka cried out as pleasure arrowed through him like a bolt of lightning. He was beyond all rational thought now, and he found that he didn't particularly care. His body was so sensitive and the sensations so intense that he was torn between having Fuji stop and continue whatever it is he was doing.
"You're so sensitive, Tezuka." Fuji rubbed his lips against the spit-slick nipple and was rewarded with a shuddering gasp. His fingers toyed idly with its mate. "More so that I'd thought."
Fuji paused a moment in his ministrations to gaze at Tezuka. His buchou's—and he didn't doubt for a moment that Tezuka was his and his alone—face was flushed a deep crimson, his spiky hair lying haphazardly over his pillow, body laid out wantonly for Fuji to do whatever he wanted. There was a dark, plum-coloured patch high up on his neck where Fuji had marked him earlier. He wondered with some amusement how Tezuka would react to it once he regained his senses and realised that the school collar was not going to hide it.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered tenderly and planted a small, lingering kiss on Tezuka's flushed cheekbone. He felt Tezuka play with his hair and smiled a genuine smile. "Ne, Tezuka?"
"What, you want me to talk now?"
"Was that your first attempt at a joke?" Fuji grinned and nuzzled his neck, licking the small love bite. "Yes, I want you to talk now."
Tezuka could hear the seriousness in Fuji's voice and murmured, "What is it?"
"I…" Fuji shook his head slightly. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
"Fuji…" Fuji heard the stern tone of voice that signalled that the buchou was coming to his senses and sighed. "I changed my mind. Don't worry about it."
"Are you sure you're not a girl? You're starting to act like one," Tezuka remarked wryly.
Lapis eyes snapped open and pierced him with an intense gaze. Fuji smiled slyly and undulated his hip against Tezuka's. "Mm, I would have thought that you'd learnt the difference between little girls and little boys by now." He brought his lips close to Tezuka's ear and whispered in a voice designed to melt stone—and stone hearts. "Do I feel like a girl?"
Tezuka shivered from the sensations Fuji was creating. "Well, your skin is so soft…"
Fuji grabbed Tezuka's wrist and slid it down their bodies. "Oh, then I suppose girls have this?"
Tezuka was getting better and guessing Fuji's moods and understanding the little game they were currently involved in. He slowed the progress of their hands and entwined their fingers together. Then he slowly caressed the length of Fuji's torso. The tensai pressed against him in half-hearted protest.
Tezuka flitted his fingers over Fuji's hip, then traced the shallow depression down to where Fuji was busy thrusting against him. He stroked with elegant, slender fingers, and with a very un-buchou-like smile, curled his fingers around Fuji.
"Not a girl," Tezuka whispered, greatly satisfied at Fuji's response. He kissed Fuji on the lips. "Definitely not a girl."
"Inui, there's nobody here!" Eiji grumbled.
"We've only checked the living room, dining room, and kitchen."
"Tezuka will catch us if we stay here too long!" Eiji crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm fine if you want to end up running ten thousand laps, but I would rather not have my legs fall off, nya!"
"Depending on Fuji, Tezuka might either be in an incredibly good mood, or a horrendously bad one."
Eiji looked a bit worried. "Did something bad happen?"
"Why would you think that?" Inui asked. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and made a brief scan of the bathroom.
"Didn't you just say that Fujiko had to tell Tezuka something?"
"No." Inui glanced at the bathroom floor. "Hm, it's wet."
"So? Careful, or you might slip and fall." He widened his eyes in mock horror. "Inui, I just sounded like Oishi!"
Inui smiled. "Hai. Ii data…" Then he laughed. Sort of. "Tezuka must have had a shower. Although, from the looks of it, I'd say he had one alone."
"Hoi? Who else would join him? Tezuka doesn't keep pets." He turned to Ryoma, who was lounging against a wall, starting to get bored, but unwilling to go home. "Ne, Echizen, does your cat like to join you in the bath?"
Ryoma raised one brow in amusement and disbelief. He tilted his cap to shield his face and snorted. "Kikumaru-senpai, that's a ridiculous question. Do you have any idea how hard it is to give Karupin a bath?" He shrugged slightly. "He does wander inside the bathroom sometimes, though."
Inui valiantly resisted the urge to slap his forehead. Eiji was a bright kid. He hardly paid attention during his classes, but was somehow able to still do fairly well—or perhaps that could be attributed to Fuji helping him—so that meant that he was hardly stupid. But sometimes…
"Well, we haven't checked Tezuka's room yet," Inui reminded them. "The probability of him being inside is very high. Around…98.6."
Momoshiro's face was contorted in disbelief. "And you want to go inside? Knowing that he's probably inside? Inui-senpai, you've got to be kidding!"
"For the sake of collecting data…" He whipped out his camera, trusting his memory to mentally record any and all pertinent data so as to leave his hands free to take photographs to add to the data that he would write down. Pictures were said to be worth a thousand words.
He placed his hand on the knob and turned his head to face Momoshiro. "I think you should stand beside Echizen, just in case…"
"In case of what?"
"You'll know," Inui replied, ever-cryptic.
"Nya, I have a very bad feeling about this…" Eiji sighed a moment before Inui turned the knob.
"Shh!" Inui hissed before silently opening the door large enough for his camera to get a good view of Tezuka's room. He managed to get Eiji to stand in front of Momoshiro and cover said kouhai's ears, who in turn shielded the room from Ryoma's view and covered the ichinen's ears from all noises coming from within the room.
Eiji looked away—since he couldn't move, for that would leave Momoshiro's eyes uncovered, and he knew that Momo would absolutely freeze in shock, too stunned to move—his cheeks burning with colour. Unfortunately for him, his hands were too busy covering Momoshiro's ears to cover his own.
"Inui, if you don't hurry up and close that door, I will kill you, nya!" He hissed, blushing furiously.
"Hai." Inui snapped away, muttering "ii data" as he took picture after picture with a rather evil smile on his face.
Then he carefully shut the door, making sure that he made no sound, before dragging Eiji—and hence, Momoshiro and Echizen—back the way they had come. He made sure to leave everything as it was, since he knew Tezuka could and would notice if the slightest thing was out of place. And then they ran.
"Momoshiro, they didn't even see us."
"Inui-senpai, this is Fuji-senpai and Tezuka-buchou we're talking about. They don't have to see us!"
"Nya! I'm too young to die!"
Ryoma was too stunned to say anything. He hadn't seen anything nor heard anything, since Momoshiro was too tall and had hands too large for him to see or hear anything, but he had an imagination and was using it to its full capability.
Buchou and Fuji-senpai? They were… When the shock finally wore off, he was appalled to find one thought nagging at him. I wonder who was the seme?
"Tezuka! Oh God, oh God." Fuji bit his lower lip to keep from screaming.
Tezuka arched his head back into the pillow, neck exposed and extremely vulnerable. Fuji's love bite was a livid burgundy stain against the pale column of his neck. "Please, Fuji, oh God, this is too much!" He crushed his lips against Fuji's forcing the tensai to release his lip. "Fuji!"
Their bodies clashed in a heated frenzy, limbs and bodies entwined. They mated in a fiery conflagration of passion and lust and, unbeknownst to perhaps both of them, love. Fuji shuddered and screamed Tezuka's name a heartbeat before Tezuka cried out for Fuji. And when they were spent, Fuji collapsed bonelessly onto Tezuka, who caught him in an impossibly tender embrace.
He shifted them onto their sides and Fuji drew him closer. He murmured his lover's name, then kissed him lovingly.
"Tezuka," Fuji murmured. "I- You- I mean, we-" He smiled serenely and buried his face in the sweat-damp locks of Tezuka's hair. "That was beyond words."
"You really are a tensai in everything, aren't you?" Tezuka ran his fingers idly through Fuji's equally damp hair. "You almost killed me." His eyes drifted shut.
"Mm, I did, did I?" Tezuka's hair was all over the place, he mused. Some things were sooo nice disheveled. He moved against Tezuka absently and felt Tezuka stir. "Feels so good…"
"You can't still be able to move," Tezuka muttered.
Fuji ground his hips sensually against Tezuka's if only to prove his buchou wrong. "Yes, I can."
"Well, I'm going to sleep, even if you aren't."
"Mm, tempting as it sounds to do whatever I want with you, I think I'll join you." Fuji snuggled closer, if that was possible at all, to Tezuka.
Tezuka had just enough energy to throw the blanket over their bodies before he succumbed to slumber. Arms wrapped around each other, they fell asleep, still joined both physically and spiritually.
OMG. I didn't even mean for it to come out as a yaoi fic! Honest! I was gonna do a simple, short shounen-ai piece with loads of fluff, a few laughs, and just innuendo, but… This fic just wrote itself. This plot (plot, what plot? You say?) came up during an MSN chat with a few fellow cosplayers. It started off with the group's Tezuka cosplayer going to take a bath. She took long enough for me and Marui to wonder if perhaps Fuji had intercepted dear Tezuka. And from there on, the camera and photograph bits simply added themselves into our convo. What can I say? We're fangirls.
This is my birthday fic to dear Fuji. His birthday might not truly fall on any day this year, but that simply means that we can celebrate it on both the 28th of Feb and the 1st of March, right? So happy birthday, Fuji. Sweet dreams, ne? (with Tezuka next to you, how can you not?) As for Ryoma's question as to who the seme was, I'm not telling. If you noticed, it's possible for either of them to be seme. Hah! Imagination is a powerful tool, ladies and gentlemen. Let yours run wild.
And now, I am going to sleep. It's almost 4 in the bloody morning, and I've spent a good portion of the night and the morning typing this out. I've had less than an average of 6 hours of sleep per night for the past week, and I'm gonna go catch up now. It's my one-week study break, so I need, firstly, to be awake enough to study. Hence the sleep. Why am I still typing? () Oyasuminasai, minna-san. I hope you enjoyed this as much as Fuji and Tezuka did (and possibly Inui). Omg, that came out so wrong. () Haha, well, I'm sure you know what I mean. And if you don't, well, too bad, 'cause I'm going to sleep now. Bye.