Minna-san!! I just wanted to create a one-shot… just in the right mood for it!! Hehe!! For all those people who reviewed in Farm Disaster, I'm very thankful.. hoping that you all would give me comments as well in this one-shot!!
I'll try to update soon with chapter 10… after I finished my tangled projects, exams and Harry Potter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis… considering all its characters… it's too painful…
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Sakuno lowered her Polaroid camera after three distinct shots of the epic battle between Tooyama Kintarou and Echizen Ryoma. She eyed the two lads, sweating in a stable manner, concentrating on the game they loved most.
Tennis.
She marveled on how dashing the cocky brat she met on a train three years ago. His green locks swayed in a quick manner, trusty cap blown by the wind. On how he swung his red racquet with such grace, in which she would never attain to do so. His intakes of breath, his accurate returns and serves, even the tiny squeaks his sneakers created.
"Game and match, Echizen! 7 games to 5!" The announcer disclosed.
Cheers boomed once again. Happiness conquered the tennis courts as the breathtaking blitzkrieg halted. The two players stepped forward, a friendly handshake to be exact. A smirking Ryoma muttered his infamous phrase, making the cheerful Kintarou laugh.
A smile tore its way onto Sakuno's cherry lips. Unable to walk past the cramming people who wanted to congratulate him once again, she merely stood at the bleachers, clutching the sketchpad with her dominant hand. She perceived the crowd encircling him, complimenting him on how brilliant he was with this matter. Her faint beam grew wider as she heard the irritating voice of her best friend—with Shiba-san—as they competed on narrating the moves Ryoma performed. Her childish senpais locked Ryoma's head, his hair in complete disarray.
The sight of joy and accomplishment was like heaven. Once again, she whipped her camera, placed her right eye onto its eyepiece. As she adjusted the lens, nearby clicks were audible.
Sakuno spun around and dropped her sketchbook, only to face a grinning Fuji, who waited for the picture to develop. He glanced at her, spotting the sketchpad on the floor.
Fuji flipped the pages, only to see outstanding portraits made by Sakuno's delicate hands. His grin grew capacious as he realized the main model—Echizen Ryoma. So that's why she always carries a camera with her. He then left the sketches, jerking his head upward to face a flushed pig-tailed lass.
"You're good at this. Can I be your model sometime?" Fuji inquired, fascinated with the abrupt change of expression written on her face.
Sakuno realized that Fuji complimented her sketches. He provided ovation to her. Her fragile face brightened with the thought of sharing time with the photography senpai of hers. Maybe she can learn fresh techniques when it comes to taking pictures.
A nod came, then a smile. The both of them chatted about their first lesson together, hoping that the interaction they shared would stand up till the end. A faint squish was heard by Fuji, who deliberately smirked with his hypothesis. He motioned for Sakuno to go ahead and went back to the same spot where the audible sound came from.
His beam grew broader at the sight of a crumpled Ponta can, lying helplessly on the ground.
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Ryoma scowled in deep resent. Even though he won his match a week ago, he can't remain as composed as he usually was, and today was no exception to the hysteria engulfing him. Right now, he was late for practice. And his buchou's gonna keep him running laps until he meets Satan.
He lessened his speed as sweet music engulfed the region. Curious, he paced towards the music hall only to find the persons he never wanted to see together.
Silently perched on the mini stage was Fuji with his violin, the soft harmony settled with it. And sitting in a corner was Sakuno, who sketched the marvelous violinist in front. He gazed at them until the song ended; penetrating small claps from Sakuno's petite hands. Fuji smiled knowingly, aware of Ryoma's presence and Sakuno's naivety.
"Thank you, Fuji-senpai. The music was soothing and I've finished the portrait." Sakuno bowed down, offering her sketchpad to her senpai.
Fuji scanned it with surprise. The previous portraits were gone and the remains were his. The familiar smirk of the infamous tennis prince was no trace to be found in the sketchbook owned by Sakuno. By the corner of his eyes, he noticed the diminishing aura of the feline boy, taking it as a chance to speak up.
"Where's his drawings?" He queried.
"I hid them in a safe place." She muttered in reply with crimson cheeks.
"Here." Fuji left her without another word.
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Sakuno sandwiched the sketchbook between her arms and chest. Without any reason, her heart has beaten faster with the conversation she had with Fuji-senpai earlier. She marched to where her feet brought her, only to realize that she was now in front of the very tree she cherished most.
The tree who knew every secret she had. And the same tree wherein she placed her special sketches of the prince she learned to love.
Sakuno sat down, sketchpad at hand. Unbeknownst to her, a lad of the same age was perched at the thickest branch of the same plant. He peered at her, his keen eyes not leaving the minor details.
Boy, has she grown. She was not the shy maiden he once knew during their first years in middle school. Nevertheless, her modesty and silent tone remained part of her, which made Ryoma happy. Her curves were visibly seen, especially with the skirt that only reached her mid-thighs. God, he was becoming like his father.
But the thing that concerned Ryoma most was the fact that uneasiness and inefficacy surrounded her beautiful face. Something (he doesn't want it to be someone) was missing. The camera that rested on her palms slipped back down. Sakuno dusted and lifted herself from the cold grass, departing with great mishap. As she was out of sight, Ryoma eyed the very sketchbook she used earlier at the music hall.
Ryoma landed on his feet in an attempt to peek on what was drawn there. He gently browsed the first few pages, earning different portraits of Fuji Syusuke. He then scoured it with force, almost tearing the pages apart. He slammed the sketchpad shut, glaring at the non-living thing for ten minutes time.
He mentally pictured himself sacrificing Fuji to the Fire God. How come all the sketches on this particular pad only portrays Fuji together with his trusty violin? Sure, the drawings were marvelous. But the fact that it wasn't his smirking figure drawn on the rough surface of the paper made him blaze in impetuosity.
He threw the sketchpad by the root of the tree. The stone inched backward, only to reveal a handful of folded papers carefully piled up at the deep pit beneath. Weird. This had been his tree but he didn't realize this secret storage room. His instincts instructed him to reach for the papery, in which he gladly obliged.
He unfastened each, only to cast sight on his own features. Aghast and curiosity were prancing delightfully on his mind as he remained emotionless on the outside. There was a portrait of him eating, sleeping, playing tennis, being harassed by his senpais, smirking, tying his sneakers, lowering his cap and lots more.
As he culminated squinting on the thousand portraits of himself, a picture at the end of the pit caught his attention. He lifted it up, a smirk found its way on his lips. There, lying on his palm was a duplicate copy of the photo taken by Fuji last Christmas Eve at Ryuzaki residence.
It was a group picture of the Seigaku regulars, Horio, Katsuo, Kachirou and Tomoka. What made it one of a kind was because of Sakuno's clumsiness which resulted to complete havoc. Right at the middle, Sakuno wrapped her arms around Ryoma's chest, whose hands found its way to her butt. God only knows how many gallons of scarlet the two painted on their faces.
And the fact that there were only two copies of this picture made him pretty confident who the sketcher might be. And he's gonna let her know that she missed one valuable portrait.
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Classes were over and students filled the corridors together with their things. Sakuno left Tomoka with a short goodbye. She needed to go back to the Sakura tree. Her delicate feet swept past the bundles of leaves, distress rushed trough her veins. She panted while grasping on the tree's bark, her once flamed cheeks turned pale.
The portraits of Ryoma, together with the picture taken by her grandma last Christmas Eve, were now gone. She fell flat on her knees, noting on how careless and clumsy she can get. Tears streamed down her eyes when she finalized that it was carried by the wind. After a few seconds, a strong hand pulled her up, only to spot the stoic figure of the lad she loved.
Her eyes widened in stupor when the familiar bluish sketchpad bayonet her chocolate orbs. Does he think I fascinated Fuji-senpai? She tried to jerk her head up, but was unable to do so.
"Ne, Ryuzaki." Ryoma called with his nonchalant voice.
Ryoma held her fists open, placing the pile of papery under her nose. Bewilderment was etched on her features as she saw the 'missing' drawings. She bit her lip, thinking that the prince might cast her as a stalker.
"Are you a stalker?" Ryoma questioned in monotony.
"N-no…" She stammered in reply, afraid that this little incident will completely shrink her out of his world.
"Can you draw for me?" Ryoma inquired, thus, making the lass jerk her head upward.
"Eh? Can you repeat that?" Sakuno requested in amazement that Ryoma didn't push her towards darkness.
"I'll just give you the picture." Ryoma inched closer but was not noticed by Sakuno.
"I'm sorry if I drew—" Sakuno started, which was prevented by lips crashing with hers.
Ryoma wrapped his right arm around the dazed maiden's frame only to deepen the kiss. After a few seconds of refreshing and accepting what the hell he was doing to her, she finally kissed back. A passionate kiss was shared by the two lovebirds, totally preoccupied to hear the wheezing sound of the camera from afar.
After a few minutes, they parted for air. Bashfulness overcame her once again as she turned cardinal for reminiscing the previous incident that happened. Ryoma, however, licked his lips in desire to grab her once again for another heated kiss.
Ryoma sat peacefully, pulling Sakuno after he situated himself. Sakuno positioned herself atop Ryoma's lap, her head rested on his shoulder. Ryoma paved way for a small peck on the cheek as he handed a picture of their valuable smooch earlier. Sakuno stared at it in confusion, demanding for Ryoma to explain further. Ryoma merely shrugged, wrapping his arms on her waist once again. He closed his eyes, muttering his last commands at his smiling damsel.
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Squeaks of joy and claps of appreciation were heard not far from the sleeping couple. Twelve figures crouched indistinctively at a narrow space, mentally congratulating on how grown Ryoma had been.
Fuji handed the picture he took to the others, smirks and Cheshire grins plastered on their faces. Benefits would definitely be theirs.
"Just draw it. And throw that sketchpad of yours."
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Thank you for reading the fic guys!! I hope you'll provide me reviews as well... I'm currently busy so I conclude that I cannot update chapter 10 in a quick pace... that's why I planned to create this one-shot instead... Hope you like it!!
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