A/N: A short(ish) winter story in honor of a certain person's birthday. This isn't really related to SDS; it's just a bit of RyoSaku seasonal fluff. Yay for fluff!

Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis in no way belongs to me. I'm just borrowing the characters for fun. :3

Kidnapped!

"Echizen-kun? E-Echizen-kun, where are we going?"

No reply.

A very tired and confused Ryuuzaki Sakuno kept running, her breath ragged in the cold winter air, eyes trained on the back of the boy in front of her as they pelted along the sidewalk.

Maybe it's to a tennis supply store?

Yeah, right. Why would he take us with him then?

There were always two of them inside her head. She called them Good Sakuno and Very Very Bad Sakuno. Good Sakuno was rational, logical and practical. She was polite, worked hard, and always wanted to do the right thing, even if it meant she would get hurt. Very Very Bad Sakuno, on the other hand, was emotional and impulsive, and not so keen on being everyone else's doormat, thanks. She wanted everything, especially what she couldn't have.

Speaking of things she couldn't have…

Then there must be an emergency involving…his cat!

You're really reaching there. Besides, who cares why he brought us along. He's holding our hand as we run off together into the sunset! Squeeee!

I am heartily ashamed to be sharing the same body as you.

Oh, come on. You know that was always one of our secret fantasies.

Yes, it was. Back when we were young and stupid and thought that "Hn" meant "I love you forever with all my heart so let's get married and have a ton of tiny, tennis-obsessed children."

Yeah, yeah.

It probably wasn't very healthy to name one's internal voices, she mused, a little dazedly, as Ryoma yanked her briskly around a corner.

Yes, well, neither is holding on to one-sided infatuation for over three years.

Sakuno grimaced. Great. Now her internal voices were lecturing her.

"E-Echizen-kun, could we please slow down?" she puffed.

Yeah, E-E-Echizen-kun.

And mocking her.

What's up with this 'Echizen-kun' crap anyway? He's Ryoma-kun. He's always been Ryoma-kun to us.

Must I explain this again? That. Was. Before. We. Gave. Up. On. Him.

Why'd we do a dumb thing like that?!

Hmm, let me think. Maybe because we were tired of him ignoring us and trampling on our feelings and making us feel like dirt.

…besides that.

We were getting fat from all the self-pity chocolate therapy sessions.

"E—chizen—kun. Can't—breath."

Finally, Ryoma slowed his crushing pace, letting go of her hand. Sakuno bent over, clasping the muscle cramp in her side, completely exhausted. Ryoma appraised her critically from beneath the brim of his cap, taking in her uneven breathing, the slight shaking in her knees.

"Ryuuzaki."

Bracing her hands on her knees, Sakuno looked up.

"Yes?" she asked tiredly.

"You need more training."

Sakuno's eyes widened indignantly, her mouth thinning. Ryoma met her gaze evenly, the hint of a smirk at his mouth.

I hate you.

I know this isn't really the time for this, but—

Cocky, emotion-free jer—

Hey. Hey! You, the one with no sense of humor!

—the most arrogant, disagreeable—

Would you shut up?! I'm trying to tell you that we're really—

Eyes blazing, Sakuno straightened, opening her mouth indignantly. Perhaps fortunately for Ryoma, her words were cut short, because her stomach chose that exact moment to let out a tremendous growl.

...hungry.

Ryoma blinked, and gazed at her abdomen in slight amazement.

Sakuno's mouth closed with a snap and she blushed to the very tips of her ears.

Kill us now.

Relax, it's not like he hasn't seen us like this a million times before.

What, humiliating ourselves? I thought we had changed! That we were different, stronger—

Ryoma nodded in the direction of a nearby ramen vendor.

"Hungry?" he asked, with a not-quite grin.

Yeah, for you, you sizzlin'—

Be quiet!

Sakuno smiled sheepishly. The smile turned tight when she remembered her all-too-thin wallet.

"Ye-Oh, er, not really," she said lamely, vigorously repressing all inner dialog. Ryoma gave her a calculating look. He turned to face the vendor.

"Two please."

Sakuno started. "No! Echizen-kun!"

He turned back in mild surprise.

"I can't pay for it right now," she hissed, flushing again in embarrassment.

"So?" he replied, supremely unconcerned. "Pay me back later."

Ooooh. I love it when he's forceful!

Animal.

Although she knew she ought to feel grateful, all Sakuno could muster up was a bewildered discomfort. Not only had he invited her to come with him—

More than invited. He practically dragged us away.

—now he was buying food for her? Who was this boy?

"Echizen-kun," she said timidly, "are you sure you're feeling well?"

Ryoma raised his patented Are you stupid? eyebrow at her.

"Yes. Why?"

"I-It's just that usually you don't…" Sakuno trailed off. What could she say?

Ask me to come with you? Act nice to me? Acknowledge my existence?

"…do things like this," she finished vaguely, wishing she could sink into the ground. Ryoma's gaze sharpened. He turned away, pulling down the bill of his cap.

"Hn."

Oh, great. Now he's angry.

------

Kazuo was fond of selling ramen. He loved the smell of the noodles, loved his humble stall with the bright red sign, loved the hustle and bustle of the city streets. But without a doubt, what he loved most about his job was watching the customers.

Today business had been rather slow. The cold had kept most of his usual clients inside, and sales had lagged. By the evening he had left bored long behind and was somewhere in the vicinity of I Must be Crazy to be Out Here-land.

The pair in front of him now, however, was definitely worth the wait.

His eyes were naturally drawn to the boy first. Dark hair under a white cap. Sharp eyes in a rather unusual golden green. A little on the short side, and not very talkative. He held himself like an athlete, projecting beyond his space. Good looking, in an unfriendly sort of way, the sort of boy Kazuo bet his daughter would like.

And then the girl. She was adorable, with her long braids and big brown eyes. A little timid, a little anxious, constantly on the watch for danger. She probably didn't laugh enough. He watched her watch her companion and marveled at how different they were. The boy was edged, honed like a weapon. She was soft and awkward: delicate features, quiet voice, defensive posture.

Now they were talking. No, arguing.

The girl looked down, flushing.

Kazuo frowned. It looked like the girl had feelings for her escort, one-sided most likely. That was going to be hard on her. That boy looked about as responsive as a rock.

Then, the boy turned away, pulling down the brim of his hat. Kazuo smirked.

Ah ha. Not so one-sided then.

Ding!

The ramen was ready, he noted with a sigh. He wished it had taken longer.

"That'll be 650 yen," he said, with his best professional smile.

"Thanks," the boy muttered, passing over the money. Behind him, the girl smiled gratefully, if a bit anxiously. Kazuo grinned broadly in return, and watched them go.

Good luck.

------

They threaded through the crowds, Ryoma in front bearing the ramen, Sakuno trailing some two steps behind. Around them, holiday shoppers bustled, tightly bundled in thick coats and scarves, scuttling eagerly from one brightly-lit store to the next.

Ryoma stepped past them easily, athletic skills on full display as he deftly maneuvered through the throngs. Sakuno also showed great skill, albeit in the opposite direction. For every person that Ryoma avoided, she bumped into three.

"Excu—oomph!—se me."

"Um, could you—Eep! Pardon!"

"I'm sorr—ouch!" This last collision sent her stumbling backwards, clutching at her left shoulder.

"Sorry!" she said again, rubbing her injured shoulder. The man she had collided with made no answer and hurried on.

How rude!

What a jerk! Yeah, you'd better run, cuz the next time I see you, I'm gonna—

"Ryuuzaki."

Wincing, Sakuno looked up. There, not two steps away, Ryoma stood, feet apart, looking away to the side. He held the ramen, one in his right hand the other in the crook of the same arm. His left hand was extended towards her, palm up.

Sakuno's mouth dropped open. She stared in wonder at the proffered hand, then glanced quickly back up at his face. Did he really mean it?

Ryoma's eyes slid over.

"The ramen is getting cold," he said blandly. Sakuno blinked.

"O-oh! Ah, yes, I—um—that is…" She stuttered awkwardly to a halt, feeling the blush burn in her cheeks.

Stop talking and get on with it!

Unable to meet his eyes any longer, she looked down, carefully examining her shoes as she placed her hand in his.

Quickly, he pulled her through the crowd. Sakuno stumbled along behind him, dazed and trying desperately not to trip. Inside her mind, Very Very Bad Sakuno was singing. It was muddled and off-key, but what she lacked in musical finesse, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

Ohhhh, I'm soo luu-ckyyyy! He's hoooooolding my—I mean, ouuuuur haaaaa-aaand!

So this is hell.

Shuuut uuuuup, I'm siiiiing—iiiiing!

Ryoma led her away from the bustling street and into a small nearby park. They reached a convenient bench, and Ryoma stopped, dropping her hand and turning around to face her. With his free hand he took hold of the cup formerly cradled in the crook of his elbow. He held it out to her.

"I really can't accept—" she demurred, eyeing it with trepidation. Ryoma extended his hand further.

"I'm going to drop it," he said, poker-faced. Alarmed, Sakuno quickly took the cup from him.

"Thank you," she mumbled reflexively. Inwardly, she berated herself. She could hardly get rid of it now; it would be both rude and ungracious.

The corner of Ryoma's mouth tilted upwards.

"You're welcome," he answered blandly.

They sat on a nearby bench, a respectable distance apart. Sakuno perched primly, knees together, and blew on the scalding noodles, watching the curls of steam twist and waver in the cold winter air. On her left sat Ryoma, legs apart, leaning casually against the bench, his cup of noodles steaming quietly in the space between them as he stared off into the distance at nothing in particular. The only sound was the crunching of footsteps in the snow as the occasional pedestrian hurried past them.

Sakuno blew again on her noodles. Cautiously, she dug around with her chopsticks, brought a tiny mouthful of noodles up to her lips and slurped them down. Then another, larger mouthful. And another.

So…good!

Greedily, she gulped the scalding noodles down, forgetting even Echizen-kun's distracting presence in her hunger. He watched her with wide eyes.

"It's good?"

Sakuno paused mid-slurp, noodles dangling fetchingly half-way out of her mouth. Slowly, she looked to her left. Ryoma was staring at her. He cocked an eyebrow, the beginnings of a grin on his lips.

Smooth. Very smooth.

Oh, shut up.

Sakuno blushed, swallowing quickly. She looked down.

"It's good," she affirmed quietly, addressing her lap. He gazed at her for another moment, then turned his attention to his own noodles.

Once they had finished, they continued to sit, Sakuno watching the passerby, Ryoma evaluating them. Neither of them spoke, but Sakuno felt oddly at ease, and found the silence rather companionable. As the sky darkened, she gave a small sigh, stealing a brief glance at her companion.

This is kind of like a date, isn't it? Isn't it?

NO. N-O. Not a date. Definitely not. At all.

Oh?

It's just platonic food consumption.

Food that he paid for.

Because we had no money.

That we are now eating together.

We didn't have a choice!

Riiiiight.

Sakuno shook her head. Now was definitely not the time for those sorts of thoughts.

"Ano...I'm sorry, Echizen-kun, but I should go home," she said apologetically, casting him an anxious glance. "Um, unless you needed me for something...?" she trailed off. Just why had she been brought out here anyway?

Ryoma stared back.

"Need you?" he echoed, voice flat. "What for?"

Ouch.

"That's what I'm asking!" replied Sakuno, worried, exasperated, and, though she'd never admit it, a little hurt. "Why did you bring me here, Echizen-kun?"

He continued to stare at her blankly.

"Did something happen? Is something wrong?" Sakuno asked, concern winning over her other emotions for the moment. Her mind flashed back to her thoughts during their dash down the city sidewalks. "Is Karupin alright?"

Ryoma blinked. "Karupin?" he said slowly, clearly surprised.

"Yes, Karupin! Or whatever else has gone wrong. Please tell me, Echizen-kun. I'll help in any way that I can." Sakuno said determinedly.

Ryoma was now giving her a very strange look indeed.

"Nothing's wrong. Karupin is fine."

Sakuno's brow furrowed.

"...Fine? But then, why?"

Another raised eyebrow.

"Why what?"

"The running and the sudden ramen and you being so nice to me, I just--I don't understand," said Sakuno helplessly, completely muddled. "Why would you do that? If you didn't need a favor from me...why would you bother?"

Ryoma's eyes sharpened. He shrugged, looking away from her to stare out into the snow-frosted trees.

"It's my birthday."

It was Sakuno's turn to blink. What did that have to do with anything?

"Oh," she said lamely. "Um, happy birthday." Hazel eyes glanced in her direction.

"Hnn. Thanks." Uncomfortable under his gaze, Sakuno looked down at her lap and the now-empty ramen cup. She casted around for something to say, feeling incredibly awkward and not a little confused. Eventually, she fell back on what she knew best.

"I'm sorry," she apologized quietly, slowly tracing the rim of the cup with her finger. "I-I didn't get you anything."

"No," replied Ryoma absently with an almost-smile. "Ryuuzaki did." Sakuno looked over in surprise.

"I did?" she said curiously.

The words hung in the air, and Ryoma tensed, not answering. Abruptly, he stood up, turning away, the bill of his cap tugged low. He tossed his ramen cup into a nearby trashcan and started walking.

"Echizen-kun?" Sakuno murmured, eyes wide. Had she offended him? "Echizen-kun!" Ryoma stopped, looking back over his shoulder. Sakuno scrambled to her feet, hurriedly throwing away her ramen cup as well. "E-Echizen-kun, where are you going?"

He contemplated her out of the corner of his eye. "Your house."

Huh?

Huh?

"My house?" blurted out Sakuno, "But you don't live there." Ryoma shot her an amused look.

"I know."

"Oh!" said Sakuno, growing more flustered by the minute. "Yes, of course--but then, why--um?" She looked at him pleadingly, twisting her hands together. After a moment, Ryoma answered...in his own way.

"It's getting late. Ryuuzaki should also go to her home." He faced forward once more. Even if she couldn't see it, she could hear the smirk plainly. "She lives there, after all."

Sakuno glowered at his back, expecting him at any minute to stroll away with a casual "Ja ne." He didn't though. He just stood there, waiting.

For her?

Sakuno smiled. Then, she walked forward.

Once she had caught up, Ryoma started walking, natural as anything. (He walked in exactly opposite the direction she would have guessed, so she figured they were probably on the right track.) They proceeded out of the park down the snowy sidewalk: Ryoma slightly in front, hands in his pockets, Sakuno trotting just behind, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold.

When they reached her doorstep, Sakuno gave a silent cheer. She hadn't slipped, tripped, slid or fallen at all the entire walk home!

Oh yeah! How's that for coordination!

Very impressive. Don't get careless.

With you around? Never going to happen. Besides, we'll be fine. We're practically—

You idiot! Watch the ice—!

"AH!" Sakuno closed her eyes and waited for the ground's cold greeting.

"Umph!"

Instead of icy ground, she was enveloped in warmth. Sakuno opened her eyes. One of Ryoma's arms had caught her flailing one and now held it fast. The other was securely around her waist. Her head rested on his chest, and she could hear his breathing.

Oh.

My.

God.

"Che. Clumsy," he said quietly, his breath making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Sakuno froze. Although she desperately tried not to, she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks. She took a deep, steadying breath.

That's it. You're in control. You can do this.

Can't think. Can't breathe. Kami-sama, he even smells sinfully delicious.

"—zaki. Oi, Ryuuzaki."

With supreme effort, Sakuno shook herself free of her Echizen-induced stupor.

"…ehh?"

"You're heavy."

"Oh." The flush returned to her cheeks, but for a very different reason. Abruptly feeling rather silly and embarrassed, Sakuno stood up, stepping back hurriedly.

"S-Sorry, I, uh, well, I—um." Sakuno gave up on speaking for the moment, opting instead to admire some of the fascinating cracks in the sidewalk.

Good choice.

Nooooo! Nooooo! Ryoma-kun, my love, we're not usually this much of an idiot!

Just whenever we see you. Or hear you. Or hear other people talking about you. Whatever it is; it's all your fault, Echizen.

"Ryuuzaki." Startled for what felt like the millionth time today, Sakuno jerked her head up. Ryoma stared back at her, unimpressed.

"Hard of hearing as well as clumsy." Sakuno gaped, huffing in outrage. Ryoma's head tilted, his gaze narrowing appraisingly.

"Combining that with Ryuuzaki's wobbly hips, inconvenient hair, and lack of direction it's no wonder she's so troublesome."

Sakuno nearly died of shock. The words were delivered completely dead-pan, but Sakuno could've sworn she saw the ghost of a smile at the corners of his mouth. That made the third time he had teased her in one outing--which, coincidentally, beat his normal average by about three hundred percent. But the nerve of him! He was the one who had shanghaied her in the first place. Into eating ramen, of all things! And he just had to mention her hair.

"Well, I'm so sorry that I was such a burden to you, Echizen-sama," she sniffed. The smile curled into a smirk as he laughed at her silently from behind lidded eyes.

"Hn. I guess I forgive you."

Oh, you! You think you're so smart don't you, with your (sexy) smirky expression and snarky little comebacks that (make me want to have your babies)--No! Ack! This is my rant. Stop interrupting!

Ryoma tilted his chin upwards slightly in challenge, still smirking.

Sakuno opened her mouth to retaliate—

"Sa-ku-no! What the devil are you doing outside, girl?" Sakuno tensed.

Oh, please no.

Slowly, she turned to face the apartment. Ryoma's gaze shifted as well, his smirk carefully tucked away. Ryuuzaki Sumire, impeccably clad in her favorite luridly pink sweat suit, grinned down at her granddaughter from the small kitchen window. The small, open kitchen window, Sakuno noted with a wince.

Busted.

"You'll catch your death if you stay out there much longer," called Sumire energetically. "Come inside, Sakuno. And you, Ryoma," she continued, her gaze turning beady, "Get along home. I don't need any of my players getting sick."

"It's the off-season," Ryoma remarked blandly, thrusting his hands into his pockets, not moving.

"Well, I wouldn't want you to miss any of your valuable winter training, now would I?" replied Sumire, her tone saccharine. "Of course," she continued, a glint in her eyes, "if you feel that confident in your abilities I ought to speak to Tezuka about the intensity of your practices. Maybe a few extra laps wouldn't go amiss if you plan to insist on regularly kidnapping my granddaughter."

Ryoma snorted, and then turned, walking back down the path towards the sidewalk as though it was what he had planned to do all along.

"Ah! G-goodbye, Echizen-kun!"

He raised a hand in lazy acknowledgement, following the sidewalk around the corner and out of sight. Sakuno watched him go.

"Sakuno?" her grandmother called once more, an indulgent smile on her face.

"Coming, obaa-chan," said Sakuno cheerfully, sparing the sidewalk another glance before hurrying inside.

Sumire met her at the door, closing it behind her as Sakuno shucked off her coat and shoes.

"Goodness," commented the old lady dryly, taking Sakuno's coat, "you're in a good mood for someone who's been arguing in the snow for the last half hour. Make no mistake; if that young hooligan steals you away again like that he'll feel the flat of my hand."

Sakuno snickered. "Obaa-chan, you wouldn't."

"Hmph. Wouldn't I," said Sumire, in not-quite jest, hanging Sakuno's coat in the small hallway closet. "You were gone for nearly four hours," she said casually as she turned back to her granddaughter, crossing her arms. "Did something happen?"

Yes! We were dragged half-way across Tokyo, insulted, blackmailed, humiliated, and almost died fifty seven times: once from exhaustion, twice from pure shock, three times from being practically trampled, fifty times from near-lethal embarrassment, and once from a stupid patch of ice.

Yes! We spent an entire afternoon in Ryoma-kun's company. He treated us to ramen, held our hand, saved us in the crowd, willing talked to us, looked at us—and really looked. He held us in his arms, smiled at us, and even joked with us, which has happened a total number of never times before. We're so happy and confused we could burst!

"Well?" repeated Sumire, already drawing her own conclusions. "Did something happen?"

"No," said Sakuno with a broad smile. "Not really."

~end~

*Happy Birthday, Ryoma!*

and

*Merry [insert winter holiday of your choice here] Everybody!*