A Little Pink Flower

I'm sure one or two of you readers have read my other RyoSaku fanfics. But this one is a standalone, I guess, and it's a sort of side story; I won't be putting too much focus on this one, but still, I hope you enjoy. :) [PS: the words in italics are all spoken in Japanese. You'll need this distinction later.]

Chapter 1- In Which An End Leads To A Beginning

Ryoma Echizen wasn't always in love with Ryuzaki Sakuno.

In fact, all through middle school, one could say that he went out of his way to ignore her. And who could blame him? He had his own fan groups; if he had wanted a girlfriend or a date, he had a nice selection, all clamoring to be seen with him.

But no, he hadn't wanted that. He wasn't interested.

It wasn't until the last day of the last year of middle school that he seriously thought about her, because there would be a decision made that would bring them together.

It involved an illness, some crystal tears, and a quiet nod. That was all it took to change Ryoma's and Sakuno's lives forever.

Ryoma had to drag himself back home after that final day of school. It was a long, harassing day; his friends and fan clubs (yes, fan club with an s) had been crowding him, saying their tearful goodbyes and hugging him (and in the case of one of the girls, a kiss on the cheek) and generally making him uncomfortable.

The awkwardness of the last day was only salt to an already open wound. Ryoma and his family were moving to America the next day, and he had spent the last week or so packing up. Now, wherever he went in his house, he saw ridged and wrinkled boxes with tape slapped haphazardly on them. They made him cranky, for all of his possessions, save the clothes he would be wearing on the day of his departure, were in those boxes. How he wanted to feel the squishiness of the grip of his favorite racket! But no. It was shoved and crowded into a cube of cardboard.

Not that he didn't enjoy America. In fact, he was excited that his family was finally moving into the massive house they had bought in a small, peaceful, beautiful town in a place called New Jersey. He was happy to live relatively near New York City and feel its loud energy, especially in Times Square. He wanted to be able to speak English again, a language that he was, quite frankly, more comfortable with.

But still. His tennis racket was in a box. Of course he would be cranky.

Nanako, Ryoma's cousin, sifted through her suitcase in the living room. She, having been accepted into Princeton University in America, was going to go with the Echizen family. With a sigh, she shut the case and clicked it back shut.

"I can't find my textbook," she said irately.

Ryoma shrugged and popped open a can of Grape Fanta. "It's probably in the boxes somewhere," he replied.

Nanako trudged away, passing Ryoma's mother, Echizen Rinko. She and Ryoma's cousin looked alike, with the same elegant body, sleek midnight-blue hair, and ability to attract attention no matter where they were. That skill had made Echizen Rinko one of the most popular models in Japan, and it could only get better once the family moved to America.

"Honey, are you ready?" the supermodel mother asked, flipping open drawers to check that everything was packed away.

Ryoma nodded and moved his tongue around in the fizzy liquid in his mouth. He liked how it popped and hurt.

Rinko moved away to clean a smudge off of the window. "Good thing the furniture is already sent ahead."

"It's not like we could lug it onto the private jet, anyways."

(Yes. Private jet. It didn't hurt that Rinko was a supermodel, Ryoma's brother Ryoga was a world number one tennis player, and Ryoma's father Nanjiro was a former world champion.)

The front door slammed open, and Echizen Nanjiro came thundering in. This was unusual. The man was usually quiet, loud only when laughing or teasing.

"We need to call that Ryuzaki girl. You know, the Tiger's granddaughter." he roared, searching for his phone.

Ryoma arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

Nanjiro stood straight up. "You don't know what happened?"

Rinko tilted her head. "None of us do. What?"

Her husband took a deep breath. "The Tiger Woman died today because of her cancer."

Rinko's eyes widened, and Ryoma choked on the soda going down his throat. He had known that Ryuzaki Sumire was in the hospital with some kind of illness. But he didn't expect her to die.

"Sakuno-san's probably devastated," Nanako said from where she had been standing quietly. "She already lost her parents. Call her."

"Wait, what can we even do for her?" Ryoma asked.

Nanjiro rubbed his temples. "I don't know. But we can't just leave her be here, all alone."

In a moment of total self-assuredness, Rinko declared, "Then we're taking her to America with us."

It was a good thing that Ryoma had not had another mouthful of Fanta in his mouth, because it would've gone all over everyone in the room.

"What?!" Nanjiro and Ryoma stuttered at the same time. Rinko stared coolly at them, daring them to challenge her.

"Think about it. She's a young girl, mourning her grandmother. She can't live alone in her house; she'll be taken away. And," She turned towards her husband. "if I'm not mistaken, you do owe quite a lot to Sumire."

Nanjiro blinked twice, three times, then let out a giant breath. "Okay, yes, I know what the circumstances are, and I do want to make sure she's okay and all, but she doesn't know any English and she has friends here. Besides, we're leaving tomorrow. She won't be ready."

"If you were her, what would you have wanted?"

It went on like this for a while, with Ryoma silently supporting his father. He knew how heartless he probably sounded, but he still couldn't believe- or understand- what was happening.

And besides. He was Echizen Ryoma. He didn't need a heart.

"How about this," Nanjiro said finally in the tone of voice he reserved for when he was on the brink of giving up. "We check on her, and ask her."

Rinko sniffed. "I'm sure she'll refuse at first. But I will insist on her coming."

Both Ryoma and Nanjiro groaned as they followed the triumphant Rinko out of the house.

Sakuno clutched her obaa-chan's hand tightly and buried her face into the hospital-bed sheets. She hadn't let any tears slip out of her eyes yet; any moment, her grandmother would admonish her for being weak and for not doing the housework yet. Any moment now.

A nurse kneeled next to Sakuno. "Honey, I think it's best for you to go home now."

Sakuno shook her head, feeling the scratchy blankets roughen the soft skin of her face.

In all honesty, she wasn't even sure how she had gotten to the hospital. Right after she got home, as she was preparing to make a meal to bring to her grandmother, the phone had rung, with a solemn male voice on the other end.

"She's gone, honey" was all she remembered before finding herself on her knees on a cold tile floor, next to her grandmother's body.

The nurse stood up quietly and left, shutting the door softly behind her. Sakuno listened to her footsteps fade, and peered up.

Her grandmother still hadn't moved. Sakuno slowly scooted herself up onto a chair, still never letting go, even when one of her braids draped itself uncomfortably around her neck.

She can't be dead, Sakuno repeated to herself. Obaa-chan was just telling jokes yesterday. She can't be dead she can't be dead shecantbedead...

The door suddenly slammed open, and the formidable Echizen Nanjiro stormed in, followed by a beautiful blue-haired woman that Sakuno didn't recognize. She was admonishing Nanjiro quietly:

"Dear, don't go in so loudly. She's still in shock."

Nanjiro stooped down in front of Sakuno. "Hey, you," he said, not unkindly. "How're you doing?"

Sakuno just nodded.

He took a deep breath. "Well, I know you'll probably say no, but I- no, Rinko, here, Ryoma's mom- thinks that you should move to America with us."

"Honey! That's too sudden!"

Sakuno couldn't have been more surprised had her dead parents drove in through the wall, wearing tuxedos and ball gowns. "What?" she asked, incredulous.

"Look. You don't have to worry about expenses, or the house. Ryoga is staying behind to handle the cat's travel papers, not that I know why Karupin needs them. And-"

"Wait. Why?"

The lady, Rinko, stepped in. "Sweetie, we can't leave you here in Japan, all alone without a guardian. I know you would want to stay with a friend, but...we don't want you to have to stay where the memories hurt most." It was a weak argument, and Rinko knew it, but it was really the best she could manage. After all, the main reason she wanted Sakuno to go was because of pure sentiment.

Sakuno looked down at her hand, which was clutching her grandmother's hand. How could she ever leave Japan? It was her birthplace, and everyone she knew was there. But how to decline politely...?

When she looked up to speak, mouth open just a little, she saw Ryoma leaning against the doorframe of the room. He seemed indifferent, but when Sakuno looked at his eyes and body posture, she could tell that he pitied her. He was sad for her.

And he feared for her.

Rinko must have seen the imminent surrender in Sakuno's eyes, because she pressed again. "I don't want to force you. But I do think it would be the best choice for you."

Suddenly, Sakuno started crying. Limpid tears raced down from her eyes, and her breaths turned short and ragged. Little cries escaped her, and she wiped her free hand over her face.

The three Echizens practically jumped at the aburpt crumbling of the girl's walls. Rinko hesitated, then put her arms around the now-sobbing Sakuno.

In between wails, Sakuno choked out the decisive words. "Can- I- go- with- you-?"

Ryoma said his first words. "Good." He walked over, next to Sakuno's chair, and patted her head once. She sniffled and looked up at him with wet eyes. With a weak, forced smile, she almost-imperceptibly nodded her head.

When she stood up to clean up the room and go, she dropped her grandmother's hand for the final time.

Sakuno was still sniffing and tearing up in the private jet, but she was more perplexed by the fact that someone her age actually had a family jet.

Rinko and Najiro were still arguing about Ryoga and how he had to stay behind to figure out the cat's papers. Sakuno, quite frankly, had to wonder: why on Earth did Karupin need travel papers if the family had their own plane?

The previous night had been harrowing. She, Ryoma, and Nanako, Ryoma's mother-lookalike cousin, had worked together to take whatever she wanted or needed from her own home- more accurately, apartment. At the sight of any pictures of possessions of her grandmother, Sakuno would burst into tears and struggle to contain herself. It took nearly three hours to clear just one small, sparse apartment.

Sakuno had come from a pretty well-off family, but after Sumire was diagnosed with cancer, the two had moved out of the big house and into a tiny apartment and sold most of their belongings. "To save money," her grandmother had said.

At first, Sakuno had been quite upset about the whole thing. But now, she was thankful that her grandmother had been so stubborn about it. The treatments were expensive, and Sakuno needed the money now on her way to America.

Oh, there it was again. The thought of her grandmother and her life-taking cancer. Sakuno bit her lip hard and curled up into a ball on her seat.

Immediately, a stewardess appeared at her side. "Are you feeling okay, miss?" the lady asked, genuine concern in her voice. "Would you like some soda?"

Sakuno opened her mouth to say no, but felt a wave of nausea overtake her. Plane rides had never suited her. Maybe something with bubbles would help calm her tumultuous stomach. She shut her mouth and nodded.

The stewardess returned almost at once with a green can and a plastic cup with ice at the bottom. She poured the drink, set the two bottles down on the table in front of Sakuno, and left.

Sakuno sipped the fizzy drink. It was a pale amber color, and the words on the can were written in English. The drink tasted strange, too, an almost-sickly sweet flavor like that of Fanta. But it was more bubbly, and after a little bit, Sakuno's stomach calmed.

"Ginger ale."

Ryoma was looking intently at her. Sakuno stared at him. "Sorry?"

"It's called ginger ale in English."

"Oh." She turned back to the can on the table and tried to form the words in her mouth. "Jin-jer...ae-l..." The syllables were heavy and clipped in her mouth, but she found them easier to pronounce than most other English words that she tried to say. How did Ryoma make it look so easy?

Then she remembered her grandmother trying to teach her English, and Sakuno sniffled again.

Nanako walked over to Sakuno and crouched down next to her seat. "Hey, Sakuno-san. Just to let you know, the flight's about twenty hours. Do you have something to do?"

Sakuno felt a vestigial flicker of her usual self appear in the middle of her grieving. "Yes...I do." Nanako smiled and left, and Sakuno felt a bit normal again.

The little flame died out, along with the momentary relief, when she admitted to herself that she actually didn't.

Ryoma watched Sakuno toss and turn on her reclined chair. She's certainly rolling a lot, he thought to himself. Must be a nightmare.

Usually, Ryoma was able to be out like a flame in water when he was tired. This time, however, he just couldn't get his eyes closed.

Sakuno whimpered once and flipped so that she was on her side, facing Ryoma. Her eyelids fluttered, and one of her breaths was heavy enough, taken in fast enough, to hear even over the sound of the engines.

A throbbing feeling in his chest surprised him. It was unfamiliar and frightening, especially when he finally realized that he was feeling sorrow. He shook his head.

I can't be sad for her. It's not like it was my fault that her grandmother died.

Despite his arrogance, he could understand that what he was thinking was rude. With a violent shake of his head, he rolled onto his other side so that he faced the wall of the jet. The engines vibrations shook him gently, and sleep eventually claimed him.

Okay, so maaaaayyybeee the story was abrupt...sorry. Can't do much better in dramatic stuff like this...