Atobe Keigo's secret lover.

(some years ago at the Narita International airport.)

'Clare...'

Atobe muttered. He stared at a slender-looking girl facing him. She held herself with grace and poise. Her long sleek hair was the colour of the midnight sky, sparkles of blue and silver stars twirled the flowing hair up like a fountain, which streamed down around her tiny waist. Her eyes reminded Atobe of the tropical oceans, the vast marine blue slowly reaching into the corals to mingle with the tender green. And even a few paces apart, it was obvious that she was about two inches taller than him. It was something that always annoyed Atobe when she came near him, but her scent of the wild roses would instantly drive the thought away.

'I'll be just fine Keigo. Don't worry.' She smiled at his face. Her sophisticated personality made Atobe seem to appear like a child in fron of her despite the fact they are the same age.

'I'll write to you and tell everything I see in Germany. So keep up with your tennis. And if I happened to I see you again, you would promise be the one to look down into my eyes and kiss my forehead? And impress me with a love game in tennis?' She said with a slight grin, since Atobe have never won a game with her.

'Yeah, I promise, and , I will make our absence from each other history, I promise, aye Kabaji.' He said with a wry smile.

'Ussu.' Kabaji made his usual reply.

She beamed at his words like a mother to an innocent child. Atobe knew that she was just playing with making promises that she knew wouldn't come ture. 'Well, then. See you soon Keigo and Kabaji kun.' And before anyone else could reply, she turned on her heels and walked away. Her hair swayed as she carried the aroma of the wild roses through the airport.

Atobe turned away and started in the opposite direction. She had made him make those promises because she wanted him to feel better. Clare has always been like this to him since they first met when they were eight. She listened to every one of his selfish will and watched over him, although he knew well enough that he should start acting more like a grown up in from of her, he allowed himself to nestle into her kindness.

But what now?

-Now,-

Atobe held himself high amongs his tennis club members. He clearly stood out with his provoking tone of voice, arrogance, his well-build friend Kabaji, who followed him around everywhere, he being the captain and obviously his height was the tallest (well except Kabaji). Nothing much matters in life now that he feel like he has all he wanted. Fame, power and skill. Nobody in his school dared to put him down, and almost the entire school is like his fan club. Those who loved him cheered from the campus and those who despised him (if there were any in the school) simply did not say anything.

'Alright, today's practise ends here. First years, do the pack up and cleaning. Off you go!'

'Kabaji.'

'Ussu.' The giant Kabaji handed Atobe's bag over into his Limo and went in after him.

'Welcome home, Keigo bocchama.' The house keeper greeted him.

'Oh.' Atobe replied, raising up one hand.

'There has been a letter addressed to you, Bocchama.' The house keeper added as he took Atobe's jumper.

'Ah? A fan letter again? Just put into the storage room like the others.'
'Oh, but I'm afraid it's not a fan letter, Bocchama. The fan letters which arrived today have already been stored into the storage room.'

'Not a fan letter, ah? Then some invitation to a party or what?' Atobe asked casually.

'No, but taking from the address of the sender, I take it as a personal massage from Clarissa Ojosama.' The house keeper said cautiously.

'Uh? From who?' Atobe asked.

'I mean that I am quite sure this is Clarrisa Ojosama's hand writing, on top of which has the name of the country of Germany, Bocchama.'

'No, you've probably got it wrong. She was just a kid when we last saw her. Her writing must've changed, like mine did.'

'Well, but I must say Bocchama that Clarrisa Ojosama was a master at calligraphy from when she was little and she has stuck to the style of the Italics writing.' The house keeper handed the letter over to Atobe. The envelope had an elegant ornate of roses and written on the back was the country name of Germany and the name Clarrisa de van der Spy with multiple swirls

'Humph. Whatever. Just put it on my shelves then.' Atobe handed the letter back and walked away into the shower.

He opened the water to the full and let it run fast down onto his body, it felt like thousands of spiky arrows aiming at his body. But he could conquer them all.

A letter from Clare… He thought silently to himself. The last letter from her was nothing but some childish jokes. She's still trying to fool him and make him feel like a little boy. He had replied with short clauses, trying to sound as if he is still a little innocent child. He has sent her photos of him and but all he got was a cold refusal that she did not want to be reminded of his face and to go back to the days when they played naively together. And since then, there were no more communication between them.

You told me you didn't want to be reminded of me. Atobe spoke in his mind. And now you send me a letter. To what? Say sorry? Or are you trying to inviting me to you wedding? Why do you always have to make things so complicated?

He got out of the shower. And as he entered his room a strong wind blew through the opened Victorian windows. A small folded sheet, with roses rose up into the air. Flying towards the window. Atobe acted before he could think, he quickly dashed over to the window side and caught the letter, stretching his long arm. It startled him that he acted this way. Even if he did not catch the letter, it would land on the lawn and one of the maids would pick it up for him. Slowly, he retreated back from the window and sat down.

Maybe it was something important. He thought. What would a pretty princess like her, who always treated him like a child and suddenly started to reject him, want to say now? And what hoes it have got to do with me?

Reluctantly he opened the letter. The aroma of the wild roses swirled up into the air, it brought back memories he did not want to remember. Happy memories only made it harder to rejoice them. Rather get it over and done with.

Dear Keigo

I am very sorry that I interrupt you like this. I know you must feel up set from what I've said in the last letter. But you must forgive me for it hurts my heart to face the past, but the present is not getting any better either. When I was in Germany, my parents encountered with a plane crash. You must have heard it one thousand times from your father. But I have an urgent news that I cannot say in this manner. I have arranged an afternoon tea for all my family's friends, and I suppose you will be there as well. This invitation will not arrive for about another week for it is arranged in the early next month.

Oh, and I hope I have not upset you by my letter. And also, I if you like we can play a game and see if you've lived up to the promise to beat me. And in height I suppose.

P.S.-you don't have to make our absence from each other history if you prefer it that way.

Love Clare

As he read the letter, his face grew more serious and rather gloom.

Clare… He thought. Clare… so what you wanna tell me, you're totally orphaned by your Aunt or did you get involved in some illegal drug dealing?… But what do you want with me, huh… coming back to Japan, what does that make you… Clare… why do you always say everything will be alright when nothing about you is… look at you… you move to places and make all these stupid promises…just so that you could feel better…but all you do is pretending… and I can't help you with anything…