disclaimer: Konomi Takeshi owns Prince of Tennis. I am not Konomi Takeshi. Therefore, I do not own Prince of tennis
dedicated to: My reviewers. Your prompting makes me update xO
warning: Inui being manipulated. Kindof fictionish. Inui-fan don't touch. Slight OOC if you have the same kind of thinking as me.
summary: Inui wouldn't trust his book nor Fuji for a long time...Perphaps slight Evil Pair if you squint :D

Part I: SEIGAKU, (vi) Inui, data master.

Inui was slightly miffed by the fact that he had yet gotten useful information from their resident prodigy, like any other day. He grouchily stomped to school, like any other day.

Not slightly, but he wouldn't admit that to anyone. Out loud.

He was a pro stalker, a childhood dream which he fufilled with his best friend, Renji. Best friend. Ahem. And goodness, he cannot even handle a case such a Fuji. He even managed to get a page and a half out of Tezuka. Only when he manages to get useful information on Fuji would he be dubbed a pro. He's just a prawn now.

Okay, maybe Fuji is an exception. He was far too mysterious to be stalked.

He was ready to tear his hair- no, the page- out of his bla- no, notebook-. The situation is getting the better of him, and he was already having more miscalculations since the days of bowling.

Anyway, he looked critically at the measly information he took four months to force out of Fuji:

Name: Fuji Syuusuke
Height: 167cm
School: Seishun Gakuen Third year Class Six
Family: Father, Mother, Younger brother, Older Sister
Birthday: He has never once celebrated his birthday in his three years in the tennis club.
Playing style: Unknown
Grip tape: Unknown - may be shipped (5 percent. Otherwise unknown)
Evolution of play: Unknown
Double or single eyelid: Unknown
Tolerance for pain/juice: High. (0.7 percent he was actually zombified. Otherwise unknown)
Pets: Unknown (Owns cactus, species unknown)
Family income per annum: Unknown
Relatives alive: Unknown
Last visit to doctor: Unknown
Last visit to dentist: Unknown
Last visit to pyscologist: Probability is high. (Considering 6 percent higher than other calculations)

He did not want to read further. The mere thought of not squeezing a page out of Fuji in a year was horrible, and the thing was the probability was either 0.034 percent or less. Being a genius can be tiring, and perphaps Fuji doesn't show it. He might not even be tired, considering his eccentric personality and (irregular) behavior patterns.

Okay. He lied. There was no pattern.

Nonetheless, he walked towards the courts, holding a 0.00735 percent of hope that Fuji might actually invite him into his world of mysterious and his family bank of some sort. There was a 25.2 percent chance of Fuji messing his brain before he could take notes, but risks were meant to be taken...


Practice was like usual: Tezuka slacking around the courts to assign laps, though Inui could bet that he trains 59.7 percent harder in his own free time anyway. Maybe he could increase the training regime by 20 percent or so to keep up. Fuji and Echizen were having a match with the chance of winning 50-50. Fuji was leading 40-30, but he had the serve, so it was still 50-50. Momoshiro and Kaidoh are having a match of endurance, 100 percent Kaidoh wins, though if it was a match of power, Kaidoh would be trashed.

Meanwhile, he sat there and tended to his special Aozu and a couple of pitchers of the Vintage Penal-tea.

Fuji took the ball, holding it neither like an underhand nor a normal serve. 2 percent he would drop the ball purposely. Serve unknown. He served a normal one that flew towards Echizen, who caught it and formed a rally. Fuji held the racket, then again neither like a Tsubame Gaeshi nor a normal return.

He hit a normal return in a slight lob that landed in the middle of the court. Echizen formed a rally again. They rallied for a while before Echizen smashed the ball in a return similiar to 'KA' of Sanada Genichirou in Renji- ahem, Yanagi's school. Fuji...

Did not Higuma-Otoshi it.

Inui pondered over his choices of returns until after practice and got badly and horribly scolded by Tezuka who had told him to take information on a certain green-haired freshman. Ahem. Practice was otherwise lame and uneventful, with the few cliches of people dying all over the courts with his juices and everything, and those obvious every-pratice-must-have kind of scenes where everyone withered after running 100 laps assigned by the stotic captain, for reasons stated above.

AND THEN. TO HIS UTMOST SURPRISE. Fuji asked him to play a match with him.

OMG. Anyway. Fuji was a very mysterious person, and had never bothered to change that bit about him before. He was also quite paranoid, so he never did allow the data master to stalk him, track him, kill him, at the very least play him. Inui had a hunch that he would answer half of all the questions in his Fuji notebook.

And now he did. Inui had ANOTHER hunch that Fuji would actually slaughter him without means of weapons except for a racket before he could take any notes. Two hunches in a day. That was virtually impossible.

Then again, he made anything possible.


Fuji was already at the courts, smiling in a vain attempt to look angelic. A devilish smile played with his lips.

Inui casted a glance at the wistful scene that enveloped the courts: The setting sun that gave a golden red hue to the clay courts, the trees swaying lightly in the wind which wound itself between golden strands of Fuji's hair and teasing the knotted ends loose.

Whoever said Fuji wasn't romantic isn't Inui.

"You serve." The clear voice rang out, seemingly vibrating the trees in its power. Birds scattered from various trees.

Inui put down his tennis bag, picked up his notebook and his racket before stepping towards the open courts. Fuji handed him a bright yellow tennis ball, which he accepted. He threw the ball up.

The match has begun.


It was one of the most exhilarating matches Inui had experienced since Renji moved. The adrenaline gushing through his senses was making him light-headed, and it was almost a miracle that Inui managed to stay awake. Ever-shifting styles of play flashed past his eyes like a dream.

This might be it. The opening of Muga no Kyochi.

Inui toyed with the ridiculous idea for a while, his mind not on the match. It was impossible. All those mesmerising moves has made him more captivated since the days of Tezuka. He forgot all about his blackmail book, his juice, his Aozu, his...

That was Inui: Enveloped, filled, inside out, all about with pure adrenaline.

THEN, Fuji stopped the match. Inui's return plopped on the ground with a slight thunk and a bounce, before it rolled towards Fuji, who seemingly attracts anything near him. Fuji dropped his racket, grinning.

"Listen carefully," He said evilly. "My birthday is 89th December. I live on Mars. I have a robo-dog. I have an adopted grandmother. I am gay..."

Inui fumbled with his green notebook of Doom, scribbling hastily over a blank page. The match has left him breathless, a shell resided by his newfound energy. His body worked, only because it was fueled by that adrenaline. After fifteen minutes, Inui covered a page.

A page... Inui's inner-self fought. You have finally covered a page...

He snapped. Once again, he was Inui. The datamaster. Fuji sensed his coming back, and good-naturedly patted his shoulder.

"I'm sorry."


Inui went to school feeling much more irked than usual, and was ever so willing to show it.


a/n: sorry for the late update x. I had six chapters ahead of me, but I found out that it was slightly too much sadism, cliched use of juice in this realm of insanity, so I have decided to alter this one a bit. A would be skipping Taka and Kaidoh's, because they are so cliched and I really don't want to post a cliched chapter. That would be sortof sad.

a/n2: Kaori Yuki's FAIRY CUBE is so cool :DD I can think of a good yaoi plot already