The downside for his mother purchasing a majority of his clothes made itself abundantly clear today. Inui Namiko had well enough tastes, but for many reasons tonight her son was unable to find anything appropriate.

Looking in the mirror at his grey slacks and dark navy turtleneck, Inui clucked his tongue and pulled the shirt off of his shoulders. Monochrome would not work, he thought to himself as he threw the garment along with the growing pile on his clothes, not aware of the time flying by him.

Socked feet in the seat of one of the kitchen chairs and khaki-covered backside planted on the table, Fuji cradled his phone in his hand, sending IMs to Saeki. Better than pacing, he decided, and at least Saeki was making him laugh and forget about that ticking clock on the wall, the sweep of the second hand louder than the heartbeat in his ears. He glanced up and frowned at the clock's blank face, nearly dropping the phone when it beeped and vibrated with another message. It would serve him right if Inui stood him up, after all.

/No, I am NOT stressing, weenie head. For all I know, my date has the vanity of a girl and is doing something like changing clothes a hundred times./

Fuji was close in his assumption. Though Inui was normally not one to worry about what he wore outside of school, today was different. After throwing a white button down over a simple black t-shirt, he realized that he no longer had time to change again. He grabbed his keys and wallet, rushing out of his bedroom. If he had paid attention to his father leaving hours before, he would have known about the basket of laundry his father set in front of the stairs...

Fuji hopped down off the table, pulling his sweater over his head, leaving him with a simple button-down shirt and khaki pants. He rolled up his sleeves and turned on the water in the sink, tucking the phone back into his pocket. In between IMs to and from Saeki, he did the dishes, wiped down the countertops and began reorganizing the spice cabinet, first alphabetically and then chronologically and then topically.

Inui stared at the ceiling in a daze. One minute he was rushing toward the stairs and then suddenly he was down them, covered and resting on a scattered assortment of clothes. Had time passed? He pulled out his cell phone and winced at the time. Dialing Fuji's number, his made an assessment of any injuries.

The phone in his pocket actually rang as Fuji switched cumin and coriander yet again, only halfway registering the ring tone. "Hello?" he answered, tucking it between ear and shoulder and rubbing his nose with the heel of one hand. It was a mistake, as he'd managed to get white pepper on that hand. He nearly dropped the phone, violently sneezing several times in succession.

"Er..." Fuji blinked, sniffling. "Sorry about that, got something up my nose. Still with me?"

"Yeah. It's Inui," he said, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He definitely felt as if he tumbled down stairs.

"Hi." Argh, his nose still itched. "Hang on a second." Fuji put the phone down on the counter and blew his nose, finally satisfied he'd gotten rid of all the pepper. He washed his hands quickly so as not to have a repeat performance and picked the phone back up. "That's better. Uhm...how are things on your end?"

Inui laughed softly. "I had a little incident. I think I am going to be more than a little late."

"Incident?" Fuji repeated, flopping down into a chair. "Is everything all right?"

"My father chose a poor location to store laundry. Thankfully the majority impacted the fall." Inui said, standing with a slight wince. "Once I stow them away and find my glasses I shall be on my way."

"Laundry? Fall? Are you sure you're okay?" Fuji clicked his tongue in thought and concern. "Would it be better if I came over?"

"No, no, I am fine." Inui brushed himself off, missing a few static clung socks on his back. "I will be there as soon as I can."

"All right. I'll be here." Fuji stood up and deliberately closed the spice cabinet, flinging his sweater over one shoulder and crossing back into the living room. "See you soon." He hit the button to end the call and exhaled slowly, sending another IM on his phone.

/He's late, he didn't stand me up. He just called, he'll be here soon. You can put the katana down./

Inui reloaded the clothes into the basket and put them in the living room to be folded later. He then limped on the way to the doorway, the dull ache fading the more he moved around.

Fuji spent the next several minutes inspecting the titles on the bookshelf, looking for one to skim through while he waited for Inui's arrival. He picked one solely because the book jacket was a nice shade of green and took a seat on the sofa, tucking his legs under him and opening to the first page, soon about five chapters deep.

Inui finally made his way to the Fuji residence, leaning on the doorframe as he rang the bell.

Fuji tossed the book to one side of the sofa and tugged his sweater on as he stood; pausing to make sure none of his hair was standing up. The reflection in the mirror peered back with uncharacteristic nervousness, a stranger's face he barely recognized. He lightly slapped his hands against his cheeks, banishing the expression. "Calm down, Syuusuke. It's just a date, ne?"

His smile was on 'stun' when the door swung open. "...hi."

Straightening himself at the doorway until he is standing upright, a smile automatically graced Inui's features. "...hi."

The prodigy swallowed, drinking in the sight of his friend (no, no, his date!) on the Fuji porch. They had been to do things together a hundred times, a hundred variations of 'date'...though never with that fateful word attached to it. How could one little word make the air in the foyer so heavy, he wondered. "Please, come in?" Fuji said, gesturing into the house.

"Forgive my intrusion." Inui stated by rote, bowing slightly as he stepped inside the residence. He had not counted on the awkwardness, nor had any idea how to change it.

Fuji took a deep breath, the weight of the air in his lungs seeming to ground him for the moment. "So," he began, tilting his head to one side, "what happened with the laundry?" He reached out and removed the socks still fastened by static, handing them gently to Inui.

"It was my father's week for the laundry, but I suppose he ran out of time and left the basket on at the top of the stairs. I believe you can gather what happened next."

"Oh my." Fuji's eyes opened, fixing on Inui. "Your stairs are awfully steep. Are you sure you're all right?"

Inui nodded. "The clothes did hamper my fall; I just had the wind knocked out of me."

He didn't mean to laugh, but for some reason the image of head-over-heels Inui, clothes pinwheeling out around him like festival banners as he went down the stairs struck Fuji as horribly, absurdly funny. He bent nearly in half, clapping one hand across his mouth as if that would stem the tide of amusement. "S-Sorry. I'm really not laughing at you...I just think it's hysterical that we're both so uptight about something we've practically done before, and that karma seems to already be having a joke at our expense."

Fuji brushed mirth from one eye, smiling once more but with far less tension underneath. "This means we've had our mishap of the evening, and the rest should go according to plan."

Inui could not help but join in on Fuji's laughter. "Everything should go fine now. Though, I believe if we are to make our reservations, we should head for our first destination soon."

"Mmm," Fuji agreed, feeling some of the nervous tension draining out from his body. "Do you think I'll need a jacket? Since you've made all the plans." That made him smile, the idea of Inui carefully and meticulously planning their evening.

"Your sweater should be enough." Inui concluded, appraising Fuji's outfit. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, let's do." Fuji accepted Inui's analysis with a bob of his head, stepping towards the landing to put on his shoes. He opened the door and leaned slightly against it, the porch light and overlong bangs casting thin shadows down his face. "'Lay on, MacDuff'," he quoted, letting Inui pass him out of the door, locking it behind them.

"So what fancies lay in store for us tonight?" Fuji asked, sticking both hands in his pockets as they walked. "Or are you going to blindfold me?" he added with a teasing grin.

"Unfortunately, Macbeth was not showing. However, Tokyo Tower is indeed open, and I thought it would be nice to visit there." Inui walked alongside Fuji, casting sideways glances in Fuji's direction.

"That sounds nice, I like seeing home from 333 meters up." His reference had been easily caught and returned, which curved Fuji's mouth with another pleased smile. "I didn't bring a camera, though. I suppose we'll have to make do with purikura...and plan another trip here?"

"I suppose a purikura will have to suffice, though remind me if I forget in the next plans to visit the Tower to bring your cameras."

"Will do, though I like purikura. My collection can't rival any of the girls in our classes, but...I'd be willing to bet mine tops them for sheer eccentricity." Fuji sounded immeasurably proud of this fact. "Do we want to go up to the second observation level or save that for when we've got film?"

"Hmm." Inui tilted his head slightly. "Perhaps a visit to both levels if we have time?"

"Yes," Fuji answered with a nod. "It's not a proper trip to Tokyo Tower without going to the top level. After all, isn't that where all of the otherworldly experiences take place? Being zapped to other places and such? Who knows, perhaps some alien intelligence will take us ten years into the future?" Wry mischief lit up the prodigy's face as they stepped onto the train, which was well-populated but short of crowded at this time of day. Flashes of colorful billboards and buildings stretching up towards the sky decorated the landscape just outside the train windows.

Inui laughed softly at the image. "It would be no surprise that my interest would be more focusing on others futures than my own, but if I recall most of the aliens that abduct from Tokyo Tower tend to be of the physical probe sort."

"Let's hope the aliens take Saturdays off," Fuji replied, poking the stainless-steel bar next to him and leaving fingerprints on it. "I'm a little bit wary of letting the fate of the world be added to this date. It feels like...it's got enough riding on it as it is." This was said with a slightly nervous but genuine smile.

"Let's hope any apocalypse will postpone itself until after our date." Inui said in a half-hearted attempt at a joke. "No pressure...at least no more than what there should be, ne?"

"Saa...no pressure, and with luck, no apocalypse." Fuji's fingers brushed against the brocade covers of the two flat charms in his pocket, one for luck and one for love. "People go on dates all the time, after all. Surely we can do it with a minimal margin for error?" The look on his face shone in 200 watt hopeful. "I guarantee coffee increases the success of every calculation you've made about tonight," Fuji added gently.

A wry glance from Inui. "Reluctantly already factored in the equations, Fuji."

Fuji cupped one hand over his mouth, chuckling. "Enough of a boost that you'll let me have my caffeine?"

"Perhaps, granted I do not have to drink any of it."

"I'll drink yours for you." The disembodied voice announced their stop and they filed off the train and out of the station, Tokyo Tower a giant red spire in the distance.

"We haven't really talked about the party itself," Fuji said, one ear cocked to catch the rhythm of their footfalls landing in unison on the sidewalk. "Do you think we went too far?"

"If we did, I am certain the topic will not be broached by anyone in the near future. Though I do not think we went as too far as we could have." Inui cast a glance at the Tower ahead. "What do you think?"

"I think it was enjoyable all around. Unforgettable and unique." Fuji smiled up at Inui, then pursed his lips in reflection. "There were a number of ways in which we could have scarred everyone further, certainly. Are you regretting anything about the party?"

"Perhaps wearing the kilt was not my best decision, but I have no regrets." Inui said, grinning at Fuji over his shoulder. "In a way, I am glad the events at the party occurred."

"I thought the kilt was rather fashionable, if not quite matching the trenchcoat," Fuji replied, taking a moment to collect his thoughts on the matter of the party. If not for the party, they wouldn't be on this...this date. Strange how a single word could make him so nervous. However, knowing that Inui did not regret anything put him slightly more at ease.

"I wasn't expecting things to unfold as they did," Fuji admitted, "but I'm not disappointed. Surprised, but not disappointed." Hands tucked into the pockets of his khakis, he tilted his head slightly upwards. "It's a situation that we have handled badly more than once before, not something I thought we'd again have opportunity to explore." A wry smile this time. "That's my roundabout way of saying that I think I'm glad, too."

"Good to know." Inui smiled, nudging Fuji's side with an elbow as they walked up to the entrance of Tokyo Tower.

A mysterious smile was Fuji's only response as they bought tickets. The pink-suited girl at the elevator smiled brightly and bowed to them, gesturing with white-gloves hands into the car. There were no others ascending to the first observation level, so the Seigaku pair had the glass-walled elevator to themselves. Far and wide as the eye could see, the Tokyo buildings and infrastructure rose like thick, monolithic fingers.

From a strictly aesthetic standpoint, Fuji thought, it really was an ugly city, no architectural symmetry, no unifying theme, and clusters of concrete and populace awkwardly sprawling upwards. Nevertheless, it held a harmony that defied its appearance, a natural rhythm that synchronized from earth to sky, through every structure and every life occupying the relatively small amount of space. Almost respectfully, he held his breath until the car stopped and the doors neatly slid open.

The first observation level contained a cafe, a gift shop, a small shrine, bright purikura booths and glass on all sides for optimal viewing. "North, south, east or west?" Fuji asked, pointing quickly in each direction.

"West." Inui answered, nodding in that direction.

Fuji hesitated, just for the barest of seconds, before falling in step with Inui, wondering if the choice of directions was intended to carry another meaning. The day was clear, the smog levels low with the coming of winter, and Japan's national symbol rose strong and white-capped in the distance. "Good to see you again, Fuji-san," the prodigy murmured under his breath. The volcano gave no response, but he did not expect that it would.

There was no need for words for a while, merely a quiet, companionable appreciation of the world laid open for their eyes, the activity a hundred and fifty meters below and the reminder of just how small two lives could be in the sea of existence that was Tokyo.

Inui stared out of the observation window at the towering mountain, his thoughts meditating on the spiritual aspect of the volcano and the warm presence standing next to him. "Ne, Fuji," he stated after minutes of comfortable silence. "Did you wish to visit the other floors while we were here? The dinner reservations will not be for another hour and twenty-three minutes."

“Mmm. That would be nice. I like the aquarium a lot..." A slight, sly cut of closed eyes in Inui's direction, faint smile twitching on Fuji's lips. "And I wouldn't mind seeing the statistics plaza. But, I think we need purikura pictures and a spot of coffee first." His eyes opened, casting a look towards the window that on another might have been termed 'longing'. Such a clear day and he hadn't brought a camera. Maa, they would just have to come back, then. Winter was actually the best time to photo from Tokyo Tower, the decreased humidity made the skies clearer from pollution.

Inui visibly perked at the mention of the statistics plaza, but nonetheless he nodded. "Lead the way."

Another smile, this one definitely knowing, and Fuji nodded in the direction of the closest purikura booth, right outside the cafe. "Strangely," he remarked, tugging the curtain open and gesturing Inui inside it, "the last time I was in one of these I was in a dress."

"Do I wish to know the story behind that?" Inui asked as he stepped inside the booth, glancing at the instructions that flashed on the monitor.

"Let's just say it involved reclaiming some stolen property," Fuji mused, choosing a background for the photos and checking the way it framed them. "Bend down a little, I think the booth is too short." The quarters were cramped, impossible to be inside it and not be touching. The prodigy drew a deep breath and scooted closer, critical eye appraising the composition and finding it to his satisfaction. "Smile, I'm sure this will eventually be on the school website." A push of a button took the picture.

"You wouldn't." Inui stated, turning his head to look at Fuji's profile, unaware of the photo in the process of being taken.

"Maybe...maybe not." The smile widened, that particular expression that straddled the line between teasing and sincerity on Fuji's face. The purikura machine, nonplussed by their conversation, continued taking pictures.

"You sound as if you are leaning toward a definite." Inui could not help but smirk, though he declined to mention that he would not like his image readily available to a female at their school in particular.

"It's an old habit to hedge bets. I think they're most likely to end up in my book." One side of Inui's collar was turned up and Fuji couldn't help but reach up to straighten it into place, the shutter clicking as he did so. "That one will be mine, definitely," he added, gaze focusing on the edge of the curtain behind Inui's shoulder.

Inui laughed, realizing the shutter had been going this entire time. "Do I get to keep one?"

"Sure, if you want one. We should have plenty and according to all the girls in my class, purikura is the way to preserve 'all your beautiful memories'." Fuji grinned, not quite sure if he shared the female thought but definitely planning to keep the pictures.

Belatedly, the prodigy realized his hand was still on Inui's collar and the machine was no longer taking pictures. Suddenly, the space inside the curtains felt uncomfortably small, constricting. "I...need some coffee," he said, pulling his hand back and stumbling out of the booth, eyes on the ground. "Would you grab the pictures?" A few more steps backwards... deep breaths, deep breaths, follow the stitches on the tops of your loafers, Syuusuke...

When he glanced up, ready to enter the cafe, Fuji was all smiles again. "Did they come out?"

Inui made a small sound of agreement as he bent to retrieve the printed stickers, his attention drawn away from Fuji's stagger out of the booth. "Are you sure you want coffee? I heard there were some excellent teashops here."

"Coffee would be greatly appreciated, but I think they serve a good variety of both here." Fuji closed the distance between them and stopped near Inui's shoulder, rocking forward from heel to toe and back. "Oh, those are really good," he commented, pointing at the stickers. "They never look right when you try to pose."

"I admit not getting a chance to pose at all," Inui observed. "Though in this case I believe it helped." He handed the photos over to Fuji and began to walk in the direction of the shops.

"Spontaneity, a hallmark of all good first dates." Carefully, Fuji flipped through the pictures, deciding after a moment that he liked the composition much better with them looking at each other, as if the camera had simply caught them interacting rather than a simple still life, empty eyes staring forwards. These seemed almost alive, in a curious sort of way. He wouldn't mind taking some more formal film pictures of them, but working with a timer or a remote could never quite capture this casual spark. "Maybe I could photo you sometime, get you to pose. I like taking pictures, that's hardly a secret, but with all of the tennis my portfolio's a bit thin lately."

"I'm sure you would fine more attractive models from other members of the team." Inui stated. "Or perhaps more active participants."

Fuji gave Inui what could only be an incredulous look, then tucked the pictures under one arm and began ticking off Seigaku on his fingers. "Tezuka wouldn't even reply, Oishi would blush and stammer, Eiji might but I already have plenty of Eiji pictures, Taka-san works all the time, Momo and Kaidou would neither one be still enough to photo and Echizen makes me feel like a pedophile." A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth; on anyone else it would have been self-conscious. "To say nothing about my preferring you above any of them."

"I'm not the most photogenic, you know," was Inui's protest.

"You've never worked with me on pictures," Fuji pointed out. "I have quite the way with a camera. And I think these," he handed over all the sticker sheets of pictures, "came out very well." Besides, if I failed to appreciate you aesthetically, we wouldn't be here, Professor...

Inui looked at the series of photographs, a short laugh falling past his lips. "Indeed they are."

"Come on, let's get coffee and discuss your future in Fujiko's Modeling Agency." Fuji felt much calmer, much more secure outside of the small purikura booth, Tokyo's comfortably sprawling expanse greeting him out all of the windows. That uncomfortable closed-in feeling had caught him by surprise; to call it 'claustrophobia' would be to overemphasize it, for it was not the closed spaces per se that bothered him. Rather, the inability to pick and choose being in said closed spaces set off his unease. "The cafe here supposedly makes a good smoothie--nothing to compare to yours, but I've been told they're quite tasty."

"Coffee and modeling..." Inui said with a hint of disdain, nonetheless following Fuji to their next destination. "At least there are smoothies."

"Cynic," Fuji teased. "Don't knock it until you've tried it and all that." The cafe was busy but not overcrowded, a table with a good view becoming theirs with minimal effort. Orders were summarily placed (an espresso for Fuji, a smoothie for Inui) and delivered, leaving them with drinks in short order.

"So...where is dinner, or is it more of the surprise?" Fuji asked, setting down his cup and debating ordering another. Perhaps a latte....

"Not a cynic, just realistic." Inui said, sipping his smoothie as he took in the view outside. "The dinner reservations are a surprise, though the meal is guaranteed to be spicy."

Well, it was hard not to smile at the idea of spicy food. "That sounds great. How far is it from here? I don't want us to be late." Fuji decided that a single shot of caffeine would do for now; he would be able to refuel at dinner, even if it was only regular coffee. Everything seemed to be going well now, despite the shaky start; was this how normal people dated? How did they ever survive all the nervousness and uncertainty?

"I think you picked a great place to come, I've always loved Tokyo Tower, but what made you think of it?

"It was for what I hoped for an unconventional start." Inui replied, finishing his smoothie in a long gulp. "There were things that I found that we would both enjoy. And we should head out soon if we are to visit those places and get to our restaurant on time."

"Unconventional is a good word for it." Fuji slid back from the table and stood, pushing his chair neatly in. "It wouldn't be an overexertion of my alleged psychic powers to speculate that the statistics plaza is on our list of places?" In truth, he wanted to see the plaza; it had been years since he'd visited. One of the Tokyo Tower sites that both he and Yuuta could agree on and enjoy, the memories of rambunctious afternoons made him smile as they walked towards the elevators, one hissing open to greet them and provide passage back to the lower levels.

The elevator was again empty except for them, the glass walls offering another panoramic view, albeit a descending one. About fifty meters from ground level, the car shuddered once and abruptly halted, jolting its two occupants. "...somehow I don't think this was on your schedule of things to see and do, Professor," Fuji commented, taking a deep breath and pushing his smile back to the forefront.

Inui frowned, pushing the button panel but receiving no response from the stubborn car. "I do not think so either." he muttered, reaching for the emergency phone.

The prodigy exhaled slowly, leaning against the rail and looking out at the surrounding buildings, his back to Inui. It was a minor inconvenience, just another hiccup in the date and something they'd laugh about when they got to the restaurant.

"...as soon as you can, thank you." Inui said, hanging up the phone and turning to face Fuji. "Technical difficulties."

"Aa." Fuji glanced over his shoulder, smile shining brightly. "Par for the course, I suppose." He leaned slightly, cheek pressing against one glass wall, a mocking barrier, crystal clear and impassive, between imprisonment and freedom. Echoing inside his head, each heartbeat was a sonic boom, the world shrinking a little with each thump. "Did they say when?"

"None." Inui replied, sitting with his back against the glass wall. "I guess we wait."

"Mmm." So as not to make a streak down the wall, Fuji turned and slid with his back against it, coming to rest with a small, solid thump on the elevator's floor. It wasn't the height or any threat of peril that made his hairline prickle, nor was it being alone with Inui. "Did you tell them we had reservations, they might hurry out of pity?" he teased, though the last word stuck in his throat like broken glass for a millisecond.

Inui nodded, glancing over his shoulder to survey the window. "I did mention something along those lines...at least we have a good view from here."

"Yeah, it's nice. Roppongi is one of my favorite places to see." Roppongi. Yes, Roppongi. The Hard Rock. Kaitenzushi. Nice, calm, pleasant, open places. Fuji swallowed hard, tasting stale air on the back of his tongue and thinking Inui's proximity was far too close in the already-cramped elevator. "The people don't look nearly as surreal from this height."

"And yet they seem as if you could reach out to them, save for this." Inui stated, knocking on the glass wall gently.

Clear walls for a prison, Fuji thought, nodding a silent assent to Inui's statement. "At least it's not cold in here," he added, breathing against the glass, which fogged briefly as the outside air was much cooler. "Though, I wouldn't mind a window, the air's a bit tight in here."

"They keep the cars well-ventilated, if not temperature controlled. It would not be wise for an enclosed space to not have an immediate source of air, especially ones that tend to fill to maximum capacity."

Somehow, the scientific explanation did little to calm the reckless heartbeat thudding in Fuji's throat. Fresh air and space and freedom taunted him from outside the elevator, and despite knowing on every intellectual level such things were impossible his eyes insisted the walls were scooting in centimeter by centimeter. He turned back to the outside, murmuring something noncommittal about being glad they were the only ones in the car.

Inui was about to interject more when the emergency phone rang loudly. He stood and picked up the receiver, speaking to whoever was on the line in hushed tones.

For Fuji's part, he did his best not to concentrate on what they were saying; good news would be too welcomed and bad news...he didn't want to think about.

"Half an hour?" Inui stated, glancing at his watch. There went the reservations. "Is there any way that...I understand... "

"Half an hour?" Fuji repeated, feeling every internal organ tighten in sick, terrified unison. He had held out that long before, numerous attempts to build up a tolerance to enforced captivity and small spaces, but always in situations where he could get up and leave if it became necessary. An elevator fifty meters above Tokyo simply left no place to go. "Well," he said, forcing brightness into his voice and hoping he could cash in the earlier prayers for a successful date on a wish for instant apocalypse, 'at least the view is nice..."

"...alright. As soon as you can." Inui said hanging up the phone and sliding down to sit in the spot he left. "The engineer's arrived, he said it might take him about half an hour to fix the elevator, it seems the others are working fine."

"Let's hope this estimate is erring in excess," Fuji said. He let out a long breath, bouncing the back of his head slightly against the glass. He needed a distraction, and fast. Somehow, he summoned up a familiar, coy smile from the knotted depths of his insides. "Though, really, if you wanted to be alone with me, the big production isn't necessary." At this point, he was willing to embrace the dating nerves over the claustrophobia ones, hoping the former could dampen down the latter for the requisite half-hour.

"If I wanted to get you alone, I would have chosen a less open area to the public, at least I would assume so."

"Which means..." the prodigy started ticking off on his fingers, endeavoring to hold them still, "that either you didn't want to be alone with me, or you were plotting to seduce me in a corner of the statistics plaza...or you're a voyeur who gets turned on by a clear glass elevator fifty meters above Tokyo." It was the wrong thing to say, not because of the innuendo but it drew Fuji's mind right back to how small the elevator truly was, how close Inui was, and how impossible any escape was. It was weak, this irrational fear, and Fuji hated weakness, none more so than his own.

Inui turned to reply only to look at Fuji with concern. "Fuji, you look...pale."

"I'm fine," Fuji replied, too quickly, trying to jam down the rising tide of panic in his gut.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's just too cramped in here." The air was stale and dead, couldn't Inui taste it, too? The breath Fuji had been carefully holding made a desperate escape, followed by several more on its heels in rapid succession.

"Fuji." Inui shifting to a partial kneeling position, holding onto the other boy's shoulder lightly. "You're starting to hyperventilate." He announced plainly, more out of his own disbelief over stating the obvious. He looked briefly around the small space when it struck him.

it'sokayit'sokayit'sokayit'sokay.

He had been repeating it mentally for so long Fuji wasn't sure when the words found voice. His heartbeat was a snare drum, tight and stretched thin, Inui's cautionary words drowned out by the frantic rhythm. Shame and anger fought for position, but neither of them had the raw strength needed to override panic's vise grip on him.

"Fuji, you need to breathe." Inui instructed calmly, rubbing at Fuji's shoulders. "Too much oxygen will cause you to pass out. Slow breaths..."

"I..." Fuji swallowed, nearly gagging on the word. Can't. I can't. He hated it, a limitation that he had not placed and therefore could not control. Inui's touch startled him slightly, an intrusion into his personal space both unwelcome and desired, a distraction from the rising urge to claw through the glass until his hands were torn and bloodied, just to get air and freedom and sanity again. Let go! he wanted to shout. You're not supposed to see me like this!

Fuji drew in tight against the glass, trying to occupy the smallest space possible in the elevator and allow the most air to flow around him. Black dots swam at the edge of his vision, struggling to connect and pull him under their terrifying, shrouded sway.

Inui watched Fuji's panicked expression, half of his mind fretting over the distress he saw the other's eyes, the other half calculating the highest probability to rid of it. Though the possibility of his actions being misinterpreted registered near 80%, the success rate for preventing unconsciousness was higher. While it also meant that there was a high chance of sacrificing his own consciousness, he lacked time or resources to consider another option. Closing the space between them, Inui pressed his lips tightly against the other boy's, his hands still holding firm on Fuji's shoulders.

He paused for a moment, partially to remind himself of his prior logic and to restrain the urges to do more than simply transfer air. Parting Fuji's lips gently with his own, Inui inhaled in an attempt to steal the excess oxygen. "Follow my lead, focus on me." he whispered against Fuji's lips before once again sealing the space left by his words.

One moment, he was breathing frantically, Fuji thought, and the next...the next he nearly undid Inui's efforts completely by smacking the back of his head against the glass, eyes wide and open and unfocused. Inui's were closed, hidden behind his glasses, but the soothing words against his mouth, coaxing cooperation and offering alternatives, hid nothing.

Strong fingers curled against Fuji's scalp, rubbing away the hurt of impact and discreetly checking his well-being, things noticed only on a subconscious level by the prodigy. Flight changed to fight in an instant, ardor dampening down panic as neatly as force-fed carbon dioxide vanquished oxygen piece by piece, kiss by kiss. Tensions slowly slid away, and with some determination Fuji began to kiss back.

Time stilled, though neither noticed as they shared breaths. Inui's fingers massaged the back of Fuji's scalp, one hand cupping the base of Fuji's neck, his thumb idly stroking bare skin. He would pull back when he could sense his breath, as well as his restraint, slip from his control. He never strayed long from Fuji's soft lips, lest his distraction be forgotten over their enclosed space. This proved difficult, as the slightest brush of the other boy's tongue or the faintest sigh would make him forget about the demands that had taxed Fuji's lungs and shift focus onto the demands that his body tried to ignore.

Inui barely noticed or made any acknowledgement of the brief flickering lights, nor the eerie feeling of gravity being re-shifted and put in motion as the elevator car shifted back into gear.

Likewise, Fuji found himself entirely too absorbed in breathing from Inui to acknowledge something as inconsequential as a repaired elevator slowly drifting back to earth. The pad of Inui's thumb restlessly tracing a sensitive spot on the back of his neck reigned over g-force as the elevator glided to a stop in its resting place. Not kill or be killed, but rather kiss...or be kissed, and both options held equal appeal.

The hydraulic hiss of doors finally pierced Fuji's awareness, and the chill, fresh air gusting in to greet them abruptly shattered the mood. With the return to the rest of the world came things like decorum and dignity and pride; suddenly, Fuji felt very exposed, not just to the open doors but the entire world, starting with Inui. And he felt very foolish for reacting so weakly when the elevator stuck.

The prodigy pushed back from Inui, gathering his shredded pride off the ground in a single motion, and stood, unreadable things in his eyes before he turned on his heel and bolted, disappearing from the landing in the blink of an eye. Forget elevator-induced claustrophobia; the entire world suddenly felt too small and confining.

Inui stared blindly at the empty space from where Fuji sat before scrambling to his feet, his mind already equating his prior actions not sufficient or even appropriate. He fell into step behind Fuji silently, his mind replaying the time that had passed.

A pink-clad girl, calling out, chased Inui down, bowing repeatedly to him, chittering in non-stop girlspeak, and presenting him with the phone he had left behind, a familiar flip phone with two Hello Kitty charms, one in a cactus suit, one in a dragon costume, dangling off the side of it.

Inui bowed to the girl, barely understanding her language but aware of the phone in her hand. "Thank you. Yes. No. Not mine, my friend's. Thank you again." He said repeatedly, giving up to glance over his shoulder. "Ne, Fuji, Kiriyama-sa...Kiriyama-chan, gomen, found your phone."

If Fuji heard, he gave no indication, pace increasing with the pounding urge of getoutgetawayrightnow in his head. The street welcomed him, a glut of camera-carrying tourists falling into his wake to shuffle inside and mostly block the doors.

"Gomen nasai, Kiriyama-chan...gomen, Sae-chan." Inui said quickly as he lost track of Fuji among the crowd. "I must be on my way. Thank you again." He bowed and turned on his heel, walking briskly out of the corridor.

When Inui reached the street outside, there was neither sweater-wearing Fuji in sight nor any indication of direction taken. And the only tried and true measure of maintaining contact in Tokyo sat nestled in his hand.

Inui stared at the phone as if the glance would indicate where the other boy had disappeared to. He scanned over heads, thankful for the brief advantage, and yet the person he searched for was far from sight. Standing still, Inui tried to gain a strategic plan of search, by narrowing down his most likely destination it would be easier to catch up with him or meet him en route.

Where is the question? His thoughts in a jumble, he ran the possibilities. Home was too far off, and though the station would be a preferable stop for someone angered at their date...perhaps he should check there first. No, that is improbable. Fuji would have to relinquish whatever had him on edge, a form of meditation perhaps...or medication.

"Coffee." Inui breathed to himself, inwardly sighing as he realized that though he most likely narrowed Fuji's next location, it did not narrow down his options by much at all. Mentally cursing humans' codependency on the caffeine-laced drink, he set out on a perimeter search within a block radius around the tower--Fuji would hardly decide to go back inside a building he took much effort to get out of. Not even for coffee.

It was the one area in which Fuji Syuusuke could be said to be predictable; his overwhelming love for caffeine in the form of coffee, and Inui's analysis was spot-on. However, Fuji had traveled seven blocks from Tokyo Tower before taking refuge in a Starbucks, the demolished remains of a cappuccino and a triple espresso littering the small table in front of him.

Undoubtedly, Fuji told himself, finding no spiritual guidance in the cappuccino's leftover foam, this whole date was a mistake. Had not he and Inui been bringing out the worst in one another historically? And the elevator...just made things worse. Inui had seen him frozen with fear, a fear that every time (once surrounded by relative open space and fresh air) seemed childish and...beneath him. The farthest thing from the prodigious Fuji Syuusuke everyone (thought they) knew.

A prodigy currently drowning himself in coffee to stop his hands from shaking in anger. He didn't like weakness overall, but his own he despised. To add insult to injury, he'd left his cell phone in the elevator, all but cutting him off from the rest of the world.

At least things weren't likely to get worse.

The first block moved onto the second, then the third, and by the fourth block Inui nearly resigned himself to this search. By all rights none of his plans have gone through, nor would any of his backup situations even come into play. What's more, Fuji had stormed off angry and had no way of contacting him. Looking at the cell phone in his hands, Inui wondered if he should return to the station and call Fuji about the phone tomorrow...but if Fuji had one thing in common with Inui it was their stubborn ability to not want to fail.

The fifth block rolled to the sixth and the seventh, while Inui felt his stomach growing uneasy, not from the varying smells of differing styles of coffee, but something far more troublesome.

In the coffee house, Fuji played with his biscotti far more than he ate it; despite being somewhat hungry, sweets weren't what he craved. Maa, perhaps he'd give up and go back home. If she'd seen the disastrous events coming, Neesan wouldn't say a word about him being home early. He got up, tossing away his trash in the wastebasket.

The important question was latte or espresso for the road, though. Crunching the biscotti as he stood in line, Fuji looked out the window for help in his decision.

Inui walked past the Starbucks window, choosing to glance inside rather than enter, standing frozen in front of the windowpane as he sighted a familiar form inside.

Had this been the first Starbucks, he might have tapped the window, slipped inside to say an off-handed remark over Fuji's shoulder. Being that it wasn't, Fuji's name rudely interrupted any background noise within the building.

The girl was just handing Fuji back his coffee (he compromised, ordering just a cup of house blend) when Inui's voice rang out. He jumped, she jumped because he jumped, and the coffee took advantage of the moment and suicided onto the counter, fortunately missing them both but creating quite a mess.

Symbolic, ne? Fuji thought, turning to greet Inui with a tight smile.

Another ten point deduction, Inui mused with a wince as he stared at the mess on the counter, entering the establishment and bowing to the girl with an offer to clean the spill.

Fuji waved off the assistance for the moment, already having grabbed napkins to aid the bleach-scented towel the girl used. It wasn't that he was rebuffing Inui for the elevator, any anger he'd had at his friend earlier had fled or turned inward, but Fuji had a fairly strict policy about cleaning up his own messes. And, well, perhaps he was still a little defensive and off-balance subconsciously. He might not be able to breathe properly in a stranded elevator, but he could damned well clean up spilled coffee.

"It looks like I'm not as unpredictable as I'd like to think," Fuji commented, dropping the sodden napkins in the trash and accepting the replacement coffee from the counter girl. However, he neatly deflected her apology, for dropping the coffee was entirely his fault, and not even Japanese politeness would let him allow her to accept any blame. "Go ahead and give me a chai for my friend here," he added, sliding appropriate coins across the freshly-cleaned counter.

"No thank you," Inui uttered, the mere thought of drinking making his stomach tighten more. He glanced over at Fuji, a mixture of anger and relief washing over him in small waves. "You dropped your phone."

Fuji shrugged; he liked chai well enough to drink it himself. Something about Inui was off, he could tell, but exactly what remained to be seen. His presence, the faint masculine scent of him, brought back the elevator and sharing breath in a heady rush that left Fuji light-headed and uneasy again. "So I did." He tried on a smile; somehow it adhered to his face. "Thanks for finding me to return it. Sorry for the trouble and the stress."

I came looking for you because we were supposed to be on this failure of a date if you have forgotten! Inui's mind yelled at the other boy as he soundlessly returned the cell phone to Fuji. "Almost ready to go?" he asked instead, glancing at the register before setting yen on the counter.

Fuji tucked the phone back into his pocket, after checking to see if Saeki had sent him any more 'helpful' messages. /Go for it, Syuusuke~/ still lingered on the front screen; he hoped Inui hadn't investigated the entire conversation from earlier while Fuji waited for his overdue arrival.

Despite its heat, Fuji had effectively drained the coffee by the time Inui spoke. He made a sound of acknowledgment, brushing past Inui, his shoulder against Inui's arm, as he headed for the door.

Once they were outside, street noise joined the conversation, a chatter of feet and tires and constant motion.” I’m not sure where we're supposed to pick back up," Fuji began, looking anywhere but at Inui, "since my delay meant we missed our reservations?"

"The reservations have long been missed, and they are full for the evening so the possibility of obtaining a table is less than five percent." Inui muttered as he cast a glance at his watch. "Any suggestions, as I am without one."

A soundless sigh escaped the prodigy, and polishing off the other drink he shoved hands in his pockets. "Saa..." Fuji replied, toying with the charms on his phone and his loose change.

Anything further he might have said was drowned out by a large clap of thunder and a sudden, cold, torrential downpour that soaked them both. Karma continuing to weigh in on this date? Could things get any worse, he wondered. "How about someplace dry? My house, maybe?"

Inui took a long moment before returning a reply, turning his head toward the heavens, the rain dancing off of his glasses to roll down his face. Anything else? he questioned the sky, lowering his head to nod silently to Fuji. "Getting ill this close to a competition is not recommended and your home is closer." he said, resignation of the failures of this date clear in his voice.

Somehow, none of this was what Fuji had in mind when he'd agreed to Inui's impulsive date offer. Drawing four at the temple had apparently been a sign; metaphorical if not literal death, likely to come of cold if they were not careful. It seemed some things just weren't meant to be; apparently they both needed spectacular failure in order to close this particular door.

Absently, Fuji ran fingers over his lips, the only warm part of him, as infused with heat as they had been the prior weekend. The sidewalks cleared ahead of them as they walked, the other denizens of Tokyo scattering like cockroaches before light into the overhangs and entryways for shelter. The train station was eight blocks away, not as close as the subway but providing a more direct route, and in sodden silence they trudged towards the JR terminal.

If anyone thought two drenched teenage boys was an unusual sight, in typical Japanese fashion they were too polite to stare, and before long they'd made their way to the Fuji front stairs. Wet shoes and socks deposited on the landing, they slipped back towards the laundry room to shed wet clothing.

A little too cold to consider whether it was appropriate or not, Fuji stripped down to his boxers, which were damp but not dripping. "I'll go fetch something for us to wear. Leave your wet clothes on top of the washer, I'll throw them in later, and you can grab a shower in the back bathroom here." He reached a pale hand past Inui to turn on the light, water droplets from his hair rolling slowly down his back.

Inui watched Fuji with an intent gaze, his eyes unrepentantly following the water droplets as they rolled down the other's back. A part of him wished to reach out and follow the trail with his fingers, but that would be a mistake. He sighed and began to pull up his shirt, the cold water making the fabric stick to his skin. "What should I change into after the shower?"

Blue eyes seemed to cut back across Fuji's shoulder, thin-slitted and unreadable, as he turned his head just enough to look at Inui. Odd, to feel slightly disappointed at his date's lack of opportune physical contact. Perhaps the temperature was not the only thing dampened by the chilled rain. "I'll get you a robe," Fuji answered, voice gentle, blinking when his breath made clouds. "And I'll turn up the heat in here. Kaasan's weekending somewhere with Otousan and I guess Neesan left and turned down the thermostat."

Inui made an affirmative noise, tossing his shirt on the washer and began to unfasten his pants. After brief deliberation Inui left his boxers on, setting his slacks on the washer before walking into the bathroom brusquely, muttering about cold tile floors as the door drifted shut behind him.

Shucking his cold underwear, Fuji scurried upstairs to his room, grabbing both terrycloth bathrobes off the hook on his closet door. The green one was a size too big, but had been so soft and well-made he bought it anyways. Slipping on the blue one and tying the belt, he padded out into the hallway, sliding the temperature up and smiling when he heard the heat click on.

Returning downstairs, he knocked on the bathroom door. "I'll leave this on the counter for you," Fuji said, cracking the door open and hearing water running. "Ah, I see you found the towels," he added, seeing one hung over the shower's top. "I'll go bathe, so leave me a little hot water?" Just as quickly, Fuji ducked back out, collecting Inui's discarded boxers for the load of wash, and adjourned upstairs for his own shower.

He heard the voice from over the shower, Fuji's words muffled but discernable over the water. Feeling illogically self-conscious, Inui shouted a confirmation. "I will, thank you for allowing me to use your shower." he called, running a hand through his damp hair.

The offhanded comment that had instantly sprung to mind about sharing that shower...took far too much effort to subdue, though it lingered over Fuji's shoulder the entire walk upstairs. Firmly telling it to go elsewhere, he stripped off the robe, turned on the water and got in, huddling under the spray until the warm cascade gave him back feeling in his fingers and toes. Such thoughts belonged back in the days of their casual flirtation; now, things had to be taken seriously. Actions bore consequences and feelings could be hurt. Including his own.

Once he'd warmed up, Fuji shut off the water and wrapped up in a towel. The house was also warmer, though the chilly tile floor between shower and bathroom rug had him hopping from foot to foot. Toweling off, he scrubbed at his hair, wringing most of the water out of it, and shrugged into his robe.

The doorbell from downstairs caught his attention. Leaving the towel draped around his neck, Fuji slid downstairs, pulling the door open curiously.

"Delivery for Fuji?" He recognized the boy as the part-timer, the high school student, at Kawamura sushi.

Fuji blinked, confused. "I'm Fuji, yes." But I didn't order any sushi...? Was this a prank? Had Taka found out about this date and sent over sushi? Or Saeki? The double-crossing cow, it had to be him.

A couple boxes and a plastic bag were unceremoniously thrust into his hands. "There you go. No need to worry, the order was prepaid at the store. Enjoy it!" With a jaunty wave, he opened his umbrella and hurried back to his moped.

Fuji watched him start it up, signal, and disappear into the rain before drafts of cold air up his legs reminded him that the door was still open. The entire evening had took on a sense of surreal, with the heady thickness of a dream where one watched as the action unfolded but was powerless to alter or change its course.

Shaking his head, he slipped on his slippers and walked back towards the kitchen. The boxes found the table and Fuji found the coffeepot. Mysterious sushi benefactors could not be handled without more caffeine.

Inui stepped out into the hallway, clad in the robe and the towel draped over his head in an awkward hood. "Fuji? Did someone get the door?"

"Aa. It appears the question of dinner has been solved." He waved an absent hand at the table, carefully pouring the water in the top of the percolator. This required absolute concentration, as coffee making had not yet gone the way of cooking for Fuji but still needed effort.

"You ordered out for sushi?" Inui asked with a raised brow, catching a glance at the familiar take-out bags.

"Not exactly." Ah, yes, that should do it! Fuji replaced the pot under the filter basket, the strong smell of coffee permeating the room as it brewed. "Someone ordered for us, and paid to have it delivered. I'm not sure who to thank..." As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew, knew with the utmost certainty. "Neesan. No one else would know when to have something delivered." Fuji thought a slightly unkind query in her direction that if she'd known all the disaster that would befall them tonight, why didn't she talk him out of it? The wind outside sounded strangely like her laughter.

Inui lowered his towel to his shoulders. "That is improbable."

"You don't know my sister," Fuji replied. "'Improbable' isn't a word that's often used in our family." It was funny, in a way, Neesan timing this just so in order to have maximum impact. It ranked up there with the sorts of pranks he and Saeki pulled on each other. He peeked in the top box, which contained exclusively wasabi, eel and octopus. "In fact, I would be willing to wager that what's in this other box are your favorite kinds of sushi, and I have no idea what those are." He slid the box across the table, raising one eyebrow in challenge. "Do you feel lucky?"

"I doubt your sister would know me that well." Inui smirked, holding onto the top of the box but not lifting it fully. "Care to make a wager on it?"

"Sure. What would you like to bet?" Fuji cupped his chin in his left hand, twirling one chopstick in his right fingers.

"Hmm...it depends on what you are willing to bet."

"Try me."

"Hi-mi-tsu."

"Fine. Slave for a day." That should take the smirk off his face.

Takes the bluff. "Fair enough."

"Very well." While foresight was Yumiko's gift, there was enough inexplicable sensitivity in the Fuji bloodline to spare. Fuji stood, going to fetch a mug for his coffee, choosing from the shelf the purple one that said 'You Look Naked Naked' on it and pouring himself a large measure of double dark roast. "Let's see what the sushi fairy has brought you."

"Aa." Inui smirked, lifting the box to peer in the contents. "Tuna, salmon, kappa maki, roe..."

"Are those on your favorites list?" Fuji asked, sinking back into his chair with the precious mug of coffee cradled between his hands.

"A few, yes."

"Only a few of your favorites or only a few of them are on the list?" Fuji drank deeply of his coffee, savoring the warmth as it slid into his middle.

"A few enough for you to win the bet, Fuji." Inui grinned, picking up a piece of kappa maki and popping it in his mouth.

"I'll thank Neesan later, then. Itadakimasu." Deftly, Fuji lifted a piece of wasabizushi and ate it, not yet bothering to mix soy, ginger and wasabi to dip it in. "You really didn't think they'd be the right ones?"

"I'm not even going to dignify an answer for that. Eat." Inui instructed, standing to get a glass of water.

"Second cabinet from the sink," Fuji said, making short work of the eel in his box. "So what exactly are the stipulations to my winnings?"

"No stipulations, only when you feel willing to redeem them." Inui said, grabbing the glass from where Fuji instructed.

"I'll keep that in mind." All of the stress and worry and mishap of the date had left Fuji rather hungry, and he set upon devouring his sushi. "My robe's not too short on you, is it?"

"What? You do not like my legs?" Inui inquired, looking over his shoulder down at his calves. He shrugged, a faint smirk crossing his features as he wandered to the sink.

"I never said that. Was thinking more along the line of the warm factor. The green one's bigger than this one," Fuji added, tugging at the shoulder of his own. "Would have snagged Yuuta's for you, but...thought that might be a little weird." He drained the last of the coffee, standing to fetch more. "Aa, dammit. Forgot to put the laundry in." Fuji brushed past Inui, setting his mug on the counter with a clink, and disappeared into the laundry room.

Inui watched Fuji disappear, the other's body a temporary warmth as it flitted past. He finished filling his glass of water, returning to the table to get a fill of the cucumber sushi before Fuji returned.

With the agitating sounds of the washer in his wake, Fuji emerged, closing the door behind him and pausing to refill his cup. "I tried to call Neesan but her phone's off. That one's sneaky." He dropped back into his chair, eating more of his sushi.

"That is a family trait, yes?"

"It's been rumored, but yet to be conclusively proven," Fuji replied, with a sly cut of eyes Inui's way.

"Given time." Inui grinned, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"Ara?" Fuji pointed a chopstick at him. "Are you up to such a lofty challenge?" If there was more to that question, Fuji wasn't saying, but his eyes met Inui's with a bald, cheeky sort of curiosity.

"When have I ever backed down from a challenge, especially of the Fuji variety?"

"Only when I've backed away first," Fuji murmured, almost too softly to be heard. "Can I get you anything else? I'm afraid it's limited to anything ready-made." Though, Fuji had to admit, poisoning Inui with his cooking would fit right in with the day's events.

Inui shook his head. "This is more than enough to fill me for now. Remind me to thank your sister."

"I'm sure she'll remind both of us," Fuji replied with a wry grin. His own box had been completely emptied, leaving him feeling full and satisfied and far more at ease than he had been all night. "Would you like to watch TV or a movie while we wait for laundry?"

"A movie is fine; I rarely have time to follow anything on television." Inui stated, reaching for the last piece of sushi in his box. The grin from earlier remained on his face, being fed and dry had improved their moods greatly.

"I think we missed Trivia," a glance at the kitchen clock confirmed it, "so movie it is. Any preference?" Fuji collected the empty boxes and chopsticks and disposed of them, refilling Inui's water glass and his coffee cup before they went into the living room.

There was little of interest on television, and it took a few tries before they hit a movie that was beginning, the first one about Abe no Seimei and onmyoujitsu. Despite the heat being on, the living room was a bit chilly, and Fuji retrieved a blanket from the back of the sofa, offering part of it to Inui as they settled on the couch.

Inui took the offered blanket with gratitude, draping his end over his waist to cover his lap. He settled back into the cushions. "I suppose Onmyouji will do."

"It's good. This branch of the supernatural has always held a lot of interest for me." Likewise, Fuji shifted around until comfortable, a polite distance of five or so centimeters between himself and Inui, though his body canted in that direction, legs tucked up under him so as to keep his feet warm and under the blanket.

"Oh? For what reason?" Inui asked, his attention half-focused on the screen.

"Mmm. Just one of my odd interests. My family's a little strange, so things like that seem to be less fairy tales and more possibilities." Flicking his bangs off his face, which were almost completely dry by now, Fuji inched a little closer to Inui, he didn't want to be stealing the entire blanket as he was inclined to do.

"My family it would be the opposite, though we still hold our own eccentric traits." Inui made allowance for Fuji to inch closer, raising his arm to rest it on the back of the couch.

"I wonder sometimes, in a life centuries ago, would I have been someone like Abe no Seimei?" Fuji mused. "Though, I don't think I would be the sort to have obedience to an emperor just because of who he is. I've always been a little contrary that way." Caffeinated and fed, Fuji could feel himself relaxing, the tension surrounding this date unfurling to blow away on the breeze.

"Can you foretell the future? Is your mother a fox?" Inui inquired, arching an eyebrow.

"I'm known to be slightly precognitive," Fuji replied without a beat. "Foretelling the future seems to be my sister's talent, though. As for my mother...I wouldn't put it past her. The Fuji name tends to pass through the women in the family, not the men. Otousan married into her family rather than the other way around."

"From what you have said about your family I am not surprised by that revelation." Inui stated, turning away from the screen to glance at Fuji. "A little precognitive ability? Do you care to give an example?"

Fuji gently poked him in the ribs. "Do you have a notebook for this date on you? To prove my precognition, I'd like to make an editorial comment for the record."

Inui nodded and pulled a small notebook and pen from his robe pocket. He opened the book and flipped past a few pages of nearly illegible shorthand, then handed the book and pen to Fuji.

The prodigy sat up from where he had been close to Inui's shoulder, scooting far enough down the sofa to draw his knees up to his chest, bare toes curling around the edge of one cushion. He fixed Inui with a peculiar sort of stare, eyes closed yet penetrating, as if looking through the molecules of skin and blood and bone themselves for something far less tangible. Fuji hummed absently and began writing, fitting pen to paper in quick, whisk-like strokes. Every so often he would glance up, scrutiny weighing mountain-heavy before he jotted something more.

"Most everything went wrong on this date," he said at last, in that absent musing tone, "but I still had a good time. Isn't that sort of strange?"

Inui's partially oblivious of Fuji's gaze while analyzing all that went wrong. "Under normal circumstances, I suppose a bad date would equate to a bad time. I'm glad you had a good time...oddly somehow I can say the same." 

"Good." At long last, Fuji exhaled a long, slow sigh and closed the notebook. He offered it back, expression neutral but the faintest shadow of a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

(What Fuji wrote:
Date = Success
Chance of second date = 100%
Chance of goodnight kiss = hi~mi~tsu)

Inui reopened the book and read silently, raising a faint eyebrow over the notebook. "Hmm...according to your prediction, we are at favorable odds.” He quickly jotted down more onto the page, looking up at Fuji with a grin as he handing the notebook back to him. "Minor adjustments."

(What Inui wrote
Date = Success
Chance of second date = 100%
Chance of goodnight kiss = hi~mi~tsu 100%)

Fuji glanced up from the book, curling his lips around a laugh. "So sure, are you?"

Inui smirked, turning to face Fuji to look at him intently. "Pretty sure. Would you wish to disprove my hypothesis?"

Through slitted eyes and squared lenses Fuji met Inui's focus with his own. This kiss, when it came, would be no teasing, attention-getting display, he knew. Nor would it be the safety rope snaring him back from irrational fear to solid ground, or, truthfully, deliverance from his own cynicism about love and relationships. The latter had had years to build and develop, and such tightly-woven things were not undone in a single date, a single day, or a single kiss.

Though, that strange, ticklish feeling curling through him, distantly termed by his mind as 'anticipation', queried in hypersensitive amusement, does not every journey begin with a single step?

The question, without and within, brought a whimsical-edged smile to Fuji's face. "Confident. I like that. And yet you invite me to prove you wrong. Which says you are not so confident that you believe yourself infallible. Also attractive."

"Or maybe I said that in attempt to make you believe such things." Fuji was right on all of his assumptions, though Inui would not outwardly admit it. Ignoring the growing knot in his stomach, he pushed the nervousness aside to lean forward with a confident grin. "So...you find me attractive?"

Thin glimpses of blue, as though a child had decided Fuji's face needed eyes but grew distracted partway through drawing them in, peered out at Inui, no less perceptive for their slivered appearance. He shook his head slightly, the movement further shadowing one eye with bangs. "Head games are more my specialty, Professor. You have always had a tendency to err on the side of the truth...unless you're dealing with SeiRu-kun."

Fuji met Inui's chin with a touch of fingers, squelching down the desire to trace over that smile and find the misfitted edge to peel it off. Good sense, intuition, something, told him it indeed belonged there and existed now for him and him alone. Strangely, he felt oddly calm, not at all as though the date had been a virtual disaster. "I always have. Sometimes more than others." At times the pull was sodium to chlorine, iron filings to magnet. Others, it was the slow, repetitive sea to shore. Still others, more accurately described as orbit: maintaining a certain distance but ever present. "If you didn't draw me, I wouldn't try to stay out of reach so much."

Inui slowly reached up to take those fingers away from his chin, holding them within his own before drawing closer. "I'm glad you are no longer trying to stay away, Fuji." He whispered, brushing his lips lightly across the other boy's.

Once before, half in jest, Fuji had speculated about looking for the red thread connecting the two of them. In the dim light of his living room, the occasional flash of illumination flickering from the television as Inui cast a shadow across him, he felt sure he could see it.

Then the kiss came, and Fuji simply forgot to look for it. Stay away? It simply wasn't possible. The thread pulled and he followed, taking the positive charge of the kiss and adding his own; lacking any negative to balance the reaction, it continued to cascade.

The hand in Inui's gripped tighter as Fuji savored the kiss, the evening's tensions draining away, submerged under a current of right.

Inui let the kiss linger for a moment, pulling away with a faint reluctance. "That is your limit for tonight, Fuji." He grinned, brushing wisps of hair away from the other's brow.

"Mmm?" Fuji queried back, turning into Inui's touch like a contented cat. "But what about your limit for tonight, Professor? I'm not sure we've made it there yet."

"I'm gauging by your limit, if we were to go by mine..." Inui trailed off, ignoring his restraint to kiss him once more.

The kiss lingered longer than the first, thorough and soft, leaving Fuji's lips warm and tingling with sensation. "I think I like your limit better." He slid closer, enough to where he could invite Inui's arm around him and use his shoulder for a pillow. "Though I'm rather surprised...us getting naked on the first date and all..."

"I'm starting to be convinced that you had it rain on purpose." Inui smirked, resting his chin atop Fuji's head with a faint yawn. "It would be bad form to sleep together also, ne?"

"Easy," Fuji replied, gently elbowing Inui, "before I accuse you of tomfoolery with the elevator." He burrowed back against Inui's body, savoring the feeling of arms around him and warmth everywhere. "It probably would be, but it's hardly our first time for that." Distantly, he thought about putting the clothes in the dryer, but that would require leaving his comfy spot.

Besides, knowing Neesan, she'd do it when she got back, and have pancakes for them in the morning when they were stiff and sore from sleeping curled up together on the sofa.

Fuck you very much, Murphy-san, but somehow this date turned out all right after all.