THINKING

In his spare time, Fuji liked to go on long walks. In the beginning, he went to the park. As these walks got more frequent, circling around the same basketball, football and tennis courts just lost its appeal, so he took to the streets instead.

He knew the neighborhood so well by now, that he could roam, directionless, and never get lost. That was the biggest advantage of being on autopilot. His mind could turn to more constructive tasks, such as thinking.

Fuji Syusuke loved to think. Or, at least, his mind did. The tensai himself was too busy thinking to think about whether he liked to think or not. That was the main reason why he went on these walks; they gave him--his mind--time to just run into overdrive.

Sometimes, his mind just went blank, filled in only by some random song that popped into his head. There it would repeat, and Fuji would walk, without a worry in the world.

At other times, his mind was so full that there wasn't enough room to move the different thoughts around. He thought, for instance, about the time he had broken his leg, and then wonder what would have happened if he broke his arm, precisely because his arm hadn't been broken.

Would he have learned to use his left hand, like Tezuka and Echizen could? Would he be able to do that? In his own private heart, Fuji didn't have to be so modest, and could openly admit that he was a genius. He thought that if using his left hand to play tennis could be categorized as a skill, then his chances of mastering it were considerable. On the other hand, if it wasn't a skill, then he probably wouldn't be able to do it at all. Or would he? Would he not?

If he'd broken his arm, would he have met Tezumi? No, he wouldn't, would he? He'd crossed paths with her because there had been a problem with his wheelchair. If he'd broken an arm instead of a leg, he'd never have met the girl who was his girlfriend today.

And so on went his train of thought. It just went on and on, until he couldn't remember why he had started thinking in the first place. Once he realized this, he would think about thinking. Why did he think so much? Why didn't he talk or write or do anything else? Was it because he knew that if he wrote down all his thoughts, the world would run out of its paper supply within weeks? Or was it because, if he told anyone about everything that went on in his head, they would just leave and never come back?

Was all he thought really that boring or baffling? No, surely it wasn't. Tezumi liked to hear him talk, sometimes. She'd let him just speak and say anything that came into his head. Obviously she knew that by attempting to drain his overworked brain of excess pondering, she was simply creating room for more. But still, she'd let him…

Why did she let him? Most other people, mainly Yuuta, backed away and made up some excuse to leave the room, when any of his mental rambling leaked out through his speech. Sometimes Tezumi did the same thing, too.

Like now, if he asked her why she put up with his babbling, she would go red, look away and mumble something incoherent.

"Ne, Tezumi, why do you always blush?" Fuji found the question quite valid; he really wanted to know why.

"I don't," she protested.

"Yes, you do. You're blushing right now," he pointed out pleasantly.

She glared at him. "If you really want to know," she said forcefully, "It's because it's always too hot, with your arm always around me like this."

Hint, hint.

Fuji obligingly retracted his arm from around her shoulders. This was something new to think about: why Tezumi disliked the gesture so. Most girls he knew would have been thrilled to have a boy put his arm around her. Tezumi, on the other hand, seemed set on keeping him a full three feet away from her, most of the time.

"Ne, Tezumi, why three feet?"

"Eh?" Looking up from the computer in front of her--they were doing a project together which involved a PowerPoint--she eyed him strangely.

Fuji decided to be undeterred. It was a very valid question, after all. "Why do I have to stay three whole feet away from you all the time?"

Her face contorted momentarily in such a complex mix of emotions that he doubted she herself could make them all out. Confusion, he saw, and embarrassment, and a slight roll of her eyes--her trademark gesture.

Slowly, her features smoothed out into a small--but growing--mischievous smile. "Because," she stated solemnly, pulling out a thick book from the pile on the chair beside her, "It's the best distance for me to conveniently--"

"Itai!" Fuji whined beseechingly, looking as hurt as anyone could when being whacked--ok, tapped, but still, it was the intention that counted--on the head by his girlfriend. Pointedly rubbing the spot, he looked at her in mock reproach.

She shrugged, a smirk twitching her lips. "Well, you asked for an explanation." Without further ado, she turned back to her work.

Giving his head a few last rubs, but failing to squeeze any sympathy or attention from her, Fuji returned to the page of data before him as well.

Why was it that she always answered his questions like this? Either by not answering, or with a physical assault? He would have to go for a walk that evening, after dinner, to think about this.

As you can see, Fuji accumulated such a long list of things to think about by the end of the day, that when he finally set out for his walk to sort them all out, he almost had to decide to categorize his things to think about, so that he could deal with them more efficiently and hopefully get home before midnight.

He almost had to decide, because he usually started right off thinking before he could.

This night, Fuji reflected, between "Why is the sky blue?" and "Why did Tezumi run out of the cafeteria when she ate that wasabi sushi I offered her while she was concentrating on her Math homework?" that he would be lucky if he didn't have to stay out here all week just coping with the unanswered questions of one day.

"Saa…why do I have to answer them all? Why can't I just let them alone to go away by themselves…?"

"Because even tensais have limited mental capacities?"

Fuji looked behind him to see Tezumi, hands in her pockets to protect them against the chilly night air, walking leisurely up to him.

With a big smile of joy, Fuji waited for her to catch up. So she liked to go on walks too. Why did she? Was it because she thought a lot too? She didn't seem the type. If she did, she hid it extremely well, or at least didn't have the habit of voicing her thoughts out loud.

"Tezumi, why do you think so much?" he asked, once she had fallen into step beside him.

She arched a brow, clearly preparing to say, "I do?" But a second later, her expression evened out again, and she simply replied, "Because you do."

Fuji considered this. "Then why do I think so much?"

Well, obviously he didn't expect her to really come up with an answer for that. But since she responded to his randomness with relative sanity…

Tezumi seemed to actually be working this one out seriously. Her eyes, directed at the sky above, looked in each and every direction, her smile changing as she contemplated each possibility. "Because…" The smile grew sly. "Because I give you a lot to think about."

Fuji hadn't expected this, and was so off balance that he forgot to react.

Suddenly laughing, Tezumi covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound and ran a few steps ahead, refusing to look at him when he caught up. "Joke, Fuji," she chuckled. "I know you think about a lot more than that."

But Fuji seriously thought--after a while of thinking--that she had a point there. No matter what he started out with, his mind seemed to wander back--albeit in tedious circles--to her. Everything seemed to be able to relate to the girl, including highlighter pens, reflections in windows, the way the street looked dark from inside the house but was actually bright once he had stepped onto it, and…

Well, he did say anything would do.

And anything meantanything.

As in, anything.

"Ne, Tezumi, what's 'anything'?"

She stared. "Uh…'anything' as in…'everything'?" she tried tentatively. "Come on, Fuji, am I really supposed to know that? This is getting a bit too far. Stop thinking so much, will you?"

Fuji chuckled. "You give me a lot to think about," he countered playfully.

Tezumi huffed, grudgingly admitting defeat. Then, a mischievous smile spread over her face. "So, if I'm able to make you think, then I'd logically be able to make you stop?"

"I wouldn't say so," Fuji replied cheerfully. "I start to think whenever I look at you."

A quirky tug of her lips. "Then close your eyes."

And suddenly, Fuji wasn't thinking anymore.

He wasn't thinking about how rare it was for Tezumi to actually initiate kisses. He wasn't thinking--plotting, more like--that if this was her way of shutting him up, then he would be careful to annoy her more in the future.

He wasn't even thinking about the fact that he wasn't thinking.

For once, he was feeling, not thinking.

And feeling was a good replacement for thinking.

A very good one.

Finally, they drew apart. Tezumi looked at him. "That should knock your brain out for a while."

She blew his mind away, and knew it.

But then, Fuji decided as they continued on along the sidewalk--it was one of those rare times when his thoughts were at a blank--maybe some things, like her, didn't require thinking about.

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Author's Notes: Well, this is technically a series of post Broken Smile one shots. Not to say that you have to know who Tezumi is to understand it, but it might be a plus.