TITLE: Who Says College is Easy?

PART: Four

GENRE: Shounen-ai (Humour/ Continuation/ Angst / Romance)

DISCLAIMERS: The series I'm referring to does not belong to me… ^_^ only this weird story does.

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PART 04: Believing

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He was having a very bad day.

Akutsu yawned, his hand automatically blocking the outflow of gushing air in a rare show of civility, as his religion professor droned on and on about the pleasure of having a monotheistic view in God-hunting. Honestly, he had no idea why he let Ohtori drag him off to this course.

He wasn't even Christian.

I can't believe I woke up this early in the morning for this.

Sighing, he cradled his chin on his hands, his mood dropping below zero as an assignment to be passed the next meeting was given to each and every one of them, his professor pausing only slightly to gauge if he should be handed one considering he learned that the rebellious student punched the previous instructor squarely on the nose on their last meeting. When encountering nothing vicious, namely a knuckle sandwich, the young substitute placed a sheet of white paper face down on Akutsu's pale green desk, thankfully moving on to the one sitting behind him with haste.

Golden eyes bored on the rectangular sheet, trying to decide of he should pick it up or just leave it there for the janitors to take care of. Akutsu's brow furrowed. Why do I need to do this stuff anyway? He thought crossly, his hand twitching as he touched his assignment gingerly... as if he was going to be burned. He was about to just brush it off his line of sight when a painful jab shot through his side. "Ow." He hissed, transferring his glare to the one who bravely did the poking... his eyes landing on the unusually dark features of Ohtori.

He groaned inwardly. Ohtori was the one who dragged him to take up Christ101... and he took his religion subjects seriously. It was too freaky. His flesh actually crawled when the younger boy pointed at his assignment paper and then raised his hand, dragging his index finger in the air as if to move across the pale column of his neck.

Akutsu couldn't breathe. He swore he had just turned an interesting shade of green around the gills.

I am so dead.

* * *

Shishido yawned, stretching out his hand almost languidly, feeling the clean wisps of the morning air through his side of the room. With almost a sensual sweep, he ran his fingers unconsciously up the edge of his shirt, dragging the hem along with them, then bringing their warm feel down, back to where his belly button lay... struggling not to let his pyjama buttons ride lower than they already were.

He sighed, his eyes straying to the other bed directly opposite his. He knew no one would notice him staring too much, because he knew his roommate's schedule by heart... even if that roommate didn't care two bits about him. Shishido was worried, that was for sure. He was always worrying over some guy hacking out his brains after Akutsu got his gut wrenched out of his body. Of course he may be exaggerating, but it was a major fact in life that Akutsu Jin was a hair's breadth short of being a total gangster. It had been proven when he came in beaten almost black and blue, the fortnight that he had become a resident of the dorm.

He had to nurse him back then... well, nursing him when he's asleep, but never when he was awake for fear of being hit again (like the first time they met). It was mostly Ohtori who did the "bandage changing"... and that was when Akutsu had begun to have this brotherly affinity with his kouhai. He resented it then... in a small degree... but he had finally learned to accept that the hand he was extending to Akutsu would always be ignored. It happened just yesterday... just last night.

Akutsu did not need to have to scream at him that way. It was quite degrading, Shishido knew, since it looked as if he was chasing after his roommate like some groupie or something... but it was fear, perhaps, that made him shut up and let the other verbally trash him. He was worried. He was actually worried about Akutsu.

He slapped a hand against his forehead, groaning. Who was he kidding? Of course he was worried! He was... a friend - at least for him. He was someone to be with instead of being alone and moping over something stupid. Akutsu was supposed to be someone to be with. Only... Shishido sighed, defeated.

He wasn't.

Slowly, he got up, slipping on the fuzzy slippers Ohtori gave him as a Christmas gift and shuffling out of the room, straight into the kitchen to find himself something to eat. He hadn't eaten anything at all last night, and frankly, his stomach was making funny noises that are loud enough to wake death himself. With renewed purpose, he grasped the handle of the tiny refrigerator they owned conjugally and rummaged around for anything edible.

Of course he wasn't expecting any. And in fact, he had not gotten anything at all. Akutsu had forgotten his turn at the grocers again. He groaned; it looked like he was going to take a trip to the local 7-11 for breakfast... and take another trip tonight, this time, to the 24-hour grocery store after his seven o'clock class. With a muffled curse, he swung the door shut, empty containers rattling dangerously inside the fridge, incensing him to the point of breaking. Like it or not, Akutsu must learn the meaning of responsibility. And Shishido had to hammer it inside his thick skull tonight -

The moment he returned from his shopping.

He was about to turn when a speck of something blue caught his eye. He went to investigate, moving some of the stuff on top of the trash can, cursing his sense of curiosity as he picked away fish bones to unearth whatever it was... which turned out to be...

The small pad of paper he had always used to stick notes onto the fridge.

Akutsu had thrown it away when Shishido was dead asleep.

* * *

"Look, I'm really sorry."

Tezuka gritted his teeth, intent on ignoring the one tagging along after him like some motherless animal. He wanted so much to deck him, but he knew he couldn't. Not because he did not have the heart to... but because he was in university premises. He did not want to see the stern face of his college Dean anytime soon... more like never. However, the need to hit something was pressing, and so what he did, much to the horror of his classmates, was to slam open the door, hard enough to send it echoing almost deafeningly inside the spacious lab the moment he went through it. The tagalong winced, but much to Tezuka's disappointment, did not back away. Instead, he seemed to pursue him more determinedly.

Tough luck.

"You've been saying that since last night." He muttered in monotone. "I said it's fine."

Atobe bristled. Was this guy really stupid or what? "I am still saying sorry because you haven't forgiven me yet!" he groused, crossing his arm across his chest.

Tezuka spared him a pointed glance and proceeded to sit down his assigned seat - which was, unfortunately, beside his project partner. "I said it was fine. You're the one do not understand." It was also tough luck for Tezuka that Atobe was in the same class and would be sharing both grade and table with him until the end of the semester. Sometimes he wished he had just taken a language course instead of Economics. He did not have to go through four science subjects that way... only two - with a pleasantly huge probability of not seeing Atobe twenty-four seven. "Forget it." He muttered, dropping his backpack on the floor next to the lone pole that was the leg of his seat, doing his best to ignore the begging pest bugging him since last night.

"But I-"

"I said forget it already." Tezuka turned away and edged further away from his current seatmate - like the other had contacted a deadly disease or something. "It's fine." And it irked Atobe to the point that his brow twitched in total annoyance. He was close to freaking out... so close to just reaching out and throttling the block of ice until life left the grey windows to the seemingly wintry soul.

But of course he was only thinking it.

He did not want his beautiful and shapely ass rotting away precious libidinous years in a cramped and mildew-infested detention cell filled with ugly convicts wearing flannel for heaven's sakes.

Atobe threw up his hands in frustration. "That's right. You said it's FINE. I don't need FINE, I need I FORGIVE YOU, you half wit!" Then, his eyes widened as Tezuka's narrowed. Oh shit. What did I just say? He turned away and slumped on the long Formica table. I am so dead.

Tezuka's eyes narrowed to slits. Maybe Atobe forgot one thing. He was the victim here... and he had the right to choose whom he would forgive or whom he would torture straight to the bowels of hell. And he couldn't just forgive someone whose hand trespassed enough to threaten his manhood's (both types...) bright future in more ways than one. He had to earn his forgiveness. That was just the way it went when you mess up with him - unconsciously or not.

Wordlessly, he patted Atobe on the head, noticing the softness of the wavy locks in passing before his brain told him to let go of that piece of information and just get on with what he was supposed to say. The body underneath his hand stiffened in surprise.

And Tezuka turned away before Atobe even had the chance to acknowledge it.

* * *

"You don't have to be so worked up over it."

Ohtori regarded the man sitting across him carefully, taking note of the lack of lustre in his personality. It was as if Fuji, last night, had sucked in everything vital there was in him. He did not want to feel pity for his lo... for his sempai, but the feeling was surfacing, no matter how hard he fought to keep it out of his 'emotions list' when dealing with him.

If only they did not encounter The Fuji last night... everything would have went fine. Mizuki wouldn't be suffering like this... and he wouldn't be worrying his head off about him. Lord knows he had been worrying over another set of people too... and it wouldn't do him any good to worry over another one. But it was happening.

Why did he have such problematic people as his close friends anyway?

Sometimes he thought it was because he had the tendency to act as matured as they were. Now, if only that maturity was present now. His Akutsu-san had become a mood-swinging devil (which was a lot meaner that what was usual), his Shishido-san had become an emotional wreck... and now, his Mizuki-san was fast becoming the recluse he was before they became buddies.

Is there something wrong with him, or is the problem with them?

For the life of him, he couldn't understand it.

"I... I'm not obsessing over... it." Mizuki answered quietly, his face downcast, eyes riveted without a spark of distraction on his untouched plate.

"If you aren't... then why are you looking as if you've been trampled by fifteen elephants for the past thirty minutes... or probably even longer?"

The corner of Ohtori's mouth quirked in a sudden show of amusement. "Mizuki-san, it's not going to eat you?" He said almost chastisingly, touching the older man's limp hand on the tabletop. There was electricity on his part, his skin cells feeling much more invigorated than ever. Mizuki, he could see, reacted much in the same way as he, quickly taking in a gasping breath and looking up at him. Their eyes met. Oak met Chestnut... Chestnut met Oak... and Oak went absolutely glassy, a film of tears obscuring a person's clear view of the emotions underneath, and yet discovering a more vulnerable side. Although Ohtori did not like that kind of look too much, he couldn't exactly say he did not like how Mizuki looked with those eyes. A twinge of physical attraction caressed his senses, but he quickly brushed it away. Pleasing the one before him is definitely the first in his list - the rest of his five million problems would just have to come later.

"Oh... tori..." Mizuki murmured, hand twitching a bit, turning sweaty all of a sudden that the younger boy was becoming completely baffled. Hiding his budding confusion, Ohtori smiled reassuringly, squeezing the soft hand underneath his. "Clear your mind of anything bothersome and try to eat. You've been staring at your bento as if waiting for the octopus wieners would come alive and grow to a gigantic size before devouring you."

The look of utter bewilderment passed by the forlorn features before Mizuki's eyes flickered with laughter and his lips curved into a natural smile. "Aa... I guess so. I wasn't thinking that morbidly though..." What Ohtori would have called a snort came from his brunch partner.

Oddly, the sight of a seemingly light-hearted Mizuki made him want to cry. And he would certainly have cried if not for the number of people around them. Those eyes would undoubtedly fasten on them both if he did so - and more unwanted attention was the last thing they need. It wouldn't do for Mizuki to invite speculation this early in his rebounding stages... and it wouldn't do for him to have a certain white-haired devil breathing down his throat calling him all kinds of cry-babies. That would just be super - if they were made of cardboard.

"You aren't?" Ohtori eyed him funny, cocking his head to one side as if in deep thought. "You sure looked like it though..."

Mizuki let out a small happy chuckle. "No. I assure you, I'm not thinking of something as gross as that!"

A happy kind of laughter. It was Ohtori's dream to be able to coax it out of his smaller sempai... and so far he had done it countless times. However, there was something nagging him. A voice inside his head told him his measly achievements were not enough... that laughter doesn't exactly come from the heart at times. At that he began wondering if the happy sound was indeed happy at all. He truly hoped so... even if his heart told him that many times those types of laughter Mizuki lets out were forced. It made him sad at times since his methods of making his sempai happy were not working as effectively as he had previously thought.

If he did not erase every single trace of what Fuji did to Mizuki, Ohtori knew he would never succeed in his plans. And it scared him. He did not exactly understand why, but it did. Maybe he just didn't want to see him looking like a zombie everyday... another loveless recluse who did not have anything better to do than just mope around or even... even try suicide. He shuddered inwardly. He was taking it too far, Ohtori knew, but it was always a possibility. If there was one thing he learned from Atobe, his former captain in Hyoutei, it was that possibilities should be weighed properly and should always be taken into consideration. He did not want Mizuki to do something drastic as take his own life (which was way too TV Drama-like) just for Fuji Syusuke's dumping.

It all boiled down to Fuji Syusuke.

Ohtori wanted for the first time to punch the lights out of somebody; somebody with an ever-smiling face and an ever-angelic appearance... one who could do no wrong... someone like Fuji.

Ohtori wanted to shake the lights out of somebody too, much to his shame. He wanted to shake Mizuki until he accepted the fact that the tennis prodigy would never come back to him, that the so-called Tensai did not deserve something precious like his love if he kept on acting like such an ass all the time... that he was NOT nothing... that even if he had been a bit relentless back in junior high... he had much worth.

He wanted Mizuki Hajime to know that he meant the whole world to Ohtori Choutarou.

Because somewhere between taking his sempai to breakfast and accompanying him to his first class... he had done the unthinkable.

He fell in love.

Shishido might laugh at him... and Akutsu too... and probably both Atobe and Hiyoshi...

But, as he grinned back at Mizuki's unusually clear features, he knew it was the truth.

* * *

Atobe was not so sure if Tezuka had indeed forgiven him for his... fiasco last night.

And he was even more unsure if he could make it up to without pissing the living daylights out of him.

He sighed uncharacteristically, his eyes scanning the crowd looming in front of him. Somehow, the notion of not being forgiven was enough to make him feel faint. He shook his head and continued his way to his college's bulletin board to post the tennis tournament flyer he had been asked to dispatch by his captain. Once there, he quickly did his errand and was about to turn when something white caught his eyes. He wasn't one to read such posters, but he was captivated by the lone white glossy posting on the bulletin board just above where he had tacked his flyer. He scanned the words carefully, his anticipation increasing and the wheel of his mind turning... approaching hyper drive.

As he read the last sentence, his eyes lit up, an unexpected smile creeping into his once thoughtful features.

It just might work.

* * *

There were only a few instances in the past when Inui wanted to sock himself right on the nose.

There was that time when he had lost in a bowling game back in junior high. He had drunk a shot glass of his own creation... and promptly keeled over in a dead faint. He must admit the blue stuff tasted way worse than what he had originally tested.

There was also that time when he had talked Kaidoh into playing doubles with him. Kaidoh had never been the same ever since. He was supposed to practice to be a better singles player, but instead had evolved to that of a perfect doubles one. Kaidoh was thankful for the training, but even though he did not voice it out, he knew that the other tennis player was feeling a bit deflated. After, all he was not with a fixed partner until during his freshman year in senior high... only to be left alone again when Inui graduated and entered his most favourable university. It was such a bad thing that Kaidoh enrolled in another... the same one Momoshiro went to.

And then there was that time when he had accidentally stepped over Tezuka's right hand during his senior year in Seishun Gakuen, senior high. Inui had caused a fracture (he was tall and a bit heavy than a normal person after all.), which sent Tezuka-bouchou back to Germany. His captain never held him responsible for it. Tezuka admitted to having been at the wrong place at the wrong time... and he admitted the same thing.

Now, he had committed another thing he wanted to hurt himself for.

Gently, he laid a hand on a feverish forehead, sighing as he felt the scorching sensation of his skin being fried to a golden crisp. Of course he may have been exaggerating about it, but what was plain truth was that he was feeling something utterly... hot.

"I... don't... feel so... good..." Came the weak voice, sounding much like a whine. Normally, it would have irked Inui, but now... now the tone made all the guilt he harboured inside his body surface. He had caused this. It had been his fault for being forgetful... and once again, careless.

Glassy eyes stared up at him in suffering... and Inui could not find the courage to look away and ignore the picture of pain in front of him. He smiled the most reassuring smile he could muster and brushed back the stubborn bangs that kept waving back on the pallid forehead. "Does it really hurt?" Inui asked softly. "Where? Can you tell me where it hurts, ne, Shi-chan?"

"Stomach... head... I..." Hiyoshi groaned pitifully, closing his eyes and leaning into the comforting touch. "Sadaharu-nii... I..."

"Hush now... it would be alright." He smiled, feeling the need to sob away, and yet uncompelled to do so. "Sadaharu-nii would take care of you, alright?"

When Hiyoshi smiled back, although weakly, he believed that everything would turn out all right.

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TBC

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A/N: Sorry for the long delay guys... I've got quite a lot of problems these past few weeks... and a good share of heartaches too. Hope you would forgive me. ^^ Well, as usual, I do hope you would review... I find inspiration in your enlightening words - and that's no lie. ^^