Italics for speech
Bold for emphasis
Did I miss anything? Mild YukimuraOC. I don't own Prince of Tennis. Special thank you to TayMor for being super-awesome and helpful! Reviews are appreciated!
Come on up here. It's safe, don't worry... the boy smiled encouragingly. I promise you, the roof will not break with a little extra weight.
Safe? she asked. I doubt it. Even if it's where you sneak away during French, it doesn't mean it's safe.
It's not sneaking away if I ask the teacher's permission to step out for a while, he answered.
We're not even supposed to be on the roof, it's under construction, she protested.
It's the opposite side of the roof, he reassured her. Aren't you with me in the Beautification Committee? We already brought this up, you know. The garden's on the roof. Therefore the roof is not off limits as you would like it to be.
But still... Look, there's that Caution sign on the door, she argued, pointing at a sign.
But look, there's the rooftop garden. What's the point of putting a garden up here if people don't visit? he teased. The boy walked into a myriad of flowers (blending in with them, belonging with them), as he walked past them.
Well... She hesitated, following (following, always following, but never catching up).
Thought so, he smiled triumphantly.
You, are unbelievable, you know that? she glared at him.
And you're just so adorable when you glare at me like that, he countered cheerfully.
I can't take that as a compliment from someone who thinks Kirihara is adorable, you know? That... That's just awkward, she laughed (laughing at the absurdity of everything, at the chance she was taking).
Oh look, there's some forget-me-nots, he noted, ignoring her jab at him, kneeling at a patch of blue.
What do they mean? Never to forget you? The girl stroked the blue petals gently. (Petals falling, he loves me, he loves me not. Forget me, forget me not, my love.)
Forget-me-nots symbolize memory and true love in the flower language, the boy replied off-handedly.
As he went on about the flowers and their meanings on the rooftop, the girl drifted off into a daydream (dreams, dreams of laughter), until she heard him asking her, Do you like it?
Hmm? she tilted her head, and studied the maze of colors that moved accordingly to the light breezes, It's really pretty up here. It doesn't seem real to me, it almost looks like a scene from a fairy tale. (The flowers were pretty, and unreal, just like the boy. Was he a really a child of god, like they all said?)
Anyways, we should go back. I need to finish that English essay, the girl sighed, and made a face.
It's not due until next week. I'll help you with it, he smiled (the famous smile that made girls swoon and sigh, the smile that looked so fake to the girl) charmingly.
I don't know if I should feel nervous about you helping me, or thankful that you've offered your assistance, she laughed (laughed at the absurdity of it all, forget this all, forget this).
How about feeling thankful? I'm not scary-unlike a certain friend of mine... he smiled at the thought.
Really now? You don't think you're scary? she asked, disbelieving.
How am I scary? Does my face look that bad? The boy pouted.
You clearly don't check the mirror while playing tennis. Your face looks so different. Intense, and judging by the looks on your teammates, I think they consider your face scary, she rolled her eyes at him. You really are oblivious aren't you?
I guess I am, when it comes to certain things. I'm glad you care enough about me to describe my face to me though! he smirked.
Only to save your teammates from their dooms if they were the ones to tell you, she deadpanned.
Still sweet of you, even though you're worrying about others instead of me, his eyes glimmered with silent laughter.
You're an oblivious optimistic. I hope you know that, she grumbled.
I do now. You realize, we're seriously off topic here? the boy noted, his eyes dancing with mischief.
Off topic? We had a topic? she asked.
Everything has a topic, but we don't always know what it is, he replied, his eyes becoming serious again.
Why so serious? I like you better when you're smiling. Being serious doesn't really suit you, she murmured.
(What was it like to hear him laugh, if his smile was so captivating and beautiful? Would it sparkle like his smile?)
I've never heard you laugh for real before, she mused.
Laugh for real? What do you mean by that? the boy asked.
Like, when you're happy? she looked at the boy, her eyes questioning. (Questioning him, did he really think he was fooling everyone?)
I am happy, thank you, the boy insisted, his smile thinning. His eyes (secret, secret eyes, guarded with walls), warned her away.
Never mind. Just-just ignore what I told you, she muttered, it was just a stupid, errant, thought. Never mind. (Forget me, forget me not, my love.)
The girl turned away, ready to leave (ready to leave the hand that was offered to her).
Hey, hey. Don't leave, the boy reached for the girl's sleeve (reaching for her, reaching, reaching, like he was trying to catch a dragonfly).
Hmm? the girl turned around, her face smooth, void of any emotion.
Why don't you make me laugh then? he challenged, his hand on her sleeve.
A game to make you laugh... The girl paused, thinking. Well, what do you like?
I like tennis, he replied, without thinking.
The girl's facial expression was priceless, her exasperation showing in her eyes, and the boy laughed.
Out of all the answers, you say tennis? Well, I'm not too surprised, she sighed (sighed with disappointment, at the offhand answer) while the boy continued to laugh.
He laughed, (an infectious laughter that rang in her ears, a sound that proved the boy human) and laughed as tears ran down his face, until the girl began to smile.
You win, the boy smiled, catching his breath, hiccuping. He reached (reaching, reaching) forward hesitantly, cupping the girl's face.
I win, she replied (replied, replied in a voice that sounded equally unsure as he had sounded), leaning forward to brush the boy's lips for a fraction of a second. A kiss (a butterfly kiss, a kiss so fleeting) that felt like the wings of a butterfly brushing past their flower, leaving in search of a new flower.
The lingering kiss stayed on the girl's lips, as she left the boy on the rooftop alone (alone, to stare at her retreating form).
(Forget me, forget me not, my love.)