Being Sick's Not so Bad
Song: To my friend Marie, as a birthday present! Happy b-day, girl!
Arrhyth: I'm not really a RyoSaku-er, though Song is, but review all the same!
Sakuno was feeling terrible.
Firstly, she was missing an all-important English lesson in school, along with the only slightly less important one on calculus... and not to mention the drawing class on perspectives that she had been looking forward to for ages.
Secondly, she was missing the tennis practice for the female tennis players at Seigaku, where the women's tennis movement was gaining steam. And that was on top of missing the regular's practice- which of course, meant missing watching Ryoma play.
Thirdly, she was stuck in a house with nothing to do but sit in bed and think about all the things she could be doing.
All this, because of a nasty thing called viral infections, which was giving her a nice, bad cold. Her head felt stuffed full of ripped out tennis ball stuffing. Her nose was entirely clogged- the reason for her breathing through her mouth. A veritable mountain of tissue was stacked next to her. Her grandmother had told her that one could have fried an egg on her burning skin. Of course, what the older woman had actually said was, "You've got a bad fever."
And she was now going to have to drag her way out of bed to get to the chicken soup her grandmother had left for her in the kitchen before going to oversee tennis practice. And the only way she could eat it would be if she mustered the strength to put it in the microwave oven and take out the pot without spilling it everywhere.
The world's against me, she thought as she attempted to get up, putting a pair of bunny-slippered feet on the floor. Of course, she had barely stood up before the world decided to go for a merry-go-round ride and spin in pretty circles around her head.
She flopped back down on the bed and winced. Mistake. It jolted her head, and made the headache worse. She lay there, not daring to move, for several minutes, then got up again. This time the nausea wasn't so bad, so she took one tentative step. And another. And another.
Now, for the next obstacle. Going down the staircase. She almost wished it was up, that way she could at least crawl, and on all fours she would have felt a lot less unbalanced. But alas, she had the feeling that if she tried to go down on all fours; she would end up with her head cracked open at the foot of the staircase.
She grabbed onto the metal railing, feeling the cool surface beneath fevered skin, and placed her feet on the first step. And the next, and the next. This isn't so bad, Sakuno thought to herself.
The next thought was, I hope whoever's up there finds this funny, as she screamed, falling down the staircase- headed for the unyielding floor of hardwood. She shut her eyes in instinctive rejection of the idea, arms and legs flailing.
And crashed into a warm, pliable surface which staggered backwards with an ooof, arms wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling. She opened her eyes to see... none other than Echizen, Ryoma.
She could have died on the spot. He'd seen her idiotic fall! Her absolutely graceless fall! And to top things off, one of the bunny slippers, which had somehow detached itself from her foot, came sailing in a perfect parabolic arc to land smack on his head and then drop innocuously to the floor.
He did nothing but raise one eyebrow. Her face flamed red as she noticed she was still caught in his arms, but she wasn't exactly in the mood for struggling. A) She wasn't about to complain that Ryoma was holding her. B) The aftershocks of adrenaline were beginning to wear off, and the headache was marching back on her, like bolts of lightning tearing through her brain.
She marshaled all her wit and attempted to make a comment. An apology. Anything. "What're you doing here?"
Well, at least it was an intelligible, coherent sentence.
Ryoma raised the other eyebrow. "Your grandmother said you were sick. She gave me the key when I said I wanted to come over to see you, said she had a spare."
"Oh."
Ryoma put her on the sofa. "Coach also mentioned something about chicken soup." His frame disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Sakuno alone with her thoughts. For once, she managed to ignore the pain. He wanted to come see me! If she could, she would be doing a little dance all the way around the room; but then again... it would have been a pretty bad idea.
But Ryoma had wanted to come see her! A voluntary visit! A bit of care and concern from the cold, aloof though sometimes Sakuno wondered whether he did some things on purpose to tease her prince of tennis!
The scent of chicken soup wafting from the kitchen brought her out of the reverie, as Ryoma, wearing a pair of oven gloves way too big for him walked carefully to her, placing the soup down on the coffee table.
"It's hot. Be careful," Ryoma warned as he sat down beside the girl. Coming hadn't been a mistake, Sakuno looked bad. To see the girl who bounced around after him with homemade lunches, cookies though they tended to be slightly burnt and whatnot so wan and worn, pale except for the patches of bright red on her face, was quite unsettling. Ryoma liked his life ordered.
Sakuno picked up the spoon, but before she could do anything, another hand had closed over hers, extricating the eating implement from hands that weren't exactly steady. She could only watch, befuddled, as Ryoma scooped up a little of the soup and held the spoon up to her mouth. If she had been observing him Sakuno would have noticed the slight smirk on his lips, but then again, she wasn't exactly paying attention.
"Well?" the one word snapped her out of her shock, and feeling slightly childish, she opened her mouth, allowing Ryoma to place the spoon inside and let her swallow. To Ryoma, it felt strangely... right.
If anyone had told him last month, last week, even, that he'd be sitting here, on a couch, feeding Sakuno Ryuzaki chicken soup, barely milimetres away from touching her, he'd have laughed in their faces... or poked the handle of his tennis racket into their skull and told them to see a doctor.
Of course, fate has funny ideas and a warped sense of humour.
Soon, the soup was finished, and Sakuno felt like sighing. It wouldn't have been half a bad idea to stay there like that forever... but then again; she wasn't about to eat chicken soup the rest of her life. And she wanted the cold to go away.
Ryoma eyed her. "Do you think you can get upstairs?"
She blushed. "Uhhh..." suddenly the idea of crawling wasn't exactly very appealing anymore.
He merely picked her up, one hand supporting her back and the other around her waist, carrying her off, bride-style. "You're quite heavy, Ryuzaki."
She blushed again, and Ryoma smirked down at her.
Back in bed, she suddenly started. "Ryoma, what happened in English class today?" The crimson colour surged into her face again as she realized what she had just called him.
Ryoma smirked softly, turning his face to his bag to hide it, digging out the English notes at the same time. "She went through the whole of chapters five and six. I got you a copy of my notes... Sakuno."
Sakuno took the sheaf of papers and attempted to read, but somewhere around halfway down the page the letters were beginning to swim round and round in nice, concentric circles... in other words, she was lost and unable to concentrate at all.
"Ehhh... I'm going to fail English. It's just two days away!" she wailed.
"I'll teach you."
"Nani?" she asked, slightly stunned. Ryoma was offering to teach her English to make up for the class she'd missed? "I mean, thank you!"
Ryuzaki did look immensely cute like that; Ryoma pondered as she began flipping through the rest of the notes he brought her. Wearing that light white cotton dress, with those ridiculously adorable bunny slippers now missing the one he had kicked into a corner after it decided to attempt to dent his head, her hair done up in those ever-present braids. He was beginning to suspect she never took them down.
Hmmm...
Deftly he got up from the chair and sat on the bed instead, slightly behind her, fingering one of her braids. "Do you ever take your hair out of these things?"
"Eh? Not really, only when bathing and sleeping, I guess..." Sakuno trailed off as Ryoma deftly undid the ribbon on one and used his fingers to undo it, unintentionally though that may have been a bit suspect brushing against the nape of her neck at the same time. The other braid quickly underwent a similar fate.
Ryoma leaned back to survey her, a satisfied smile on his face. Better. Sakuno's hair- idly he wondered when he'd begun thinking of her as Sakuno and not Ryuzaki- was slightly wavy, and since it was down, he could smell the scent. Peach. Like Ponta. She was looking more than slightly alluring in this state, so innocent, twisted around slightly to look at him with her mouth slightly agape at his actions.
"I thought you looked better with it down," he whispered, running his hands through it, then moving from the ends of her hair to around her waist, locking her tightly against his own body. Burying his face into the brown masses, he nuzzled the back of her neck lightly.
"Ryoma..." his name, said in her mouth, was quite the good bit arousing.
"Sakuno shouldn't tempt me like this..." he whispered into her ear, nibbling it lightly after the sentence. She yelped a little, but quieted as he licked the bite. "You're so innocent."
Deftly, he maneuvered her onto her back, kneeling over her, looking at her flushed, quiet face, the large brown eyes reflecting confusion back up at him. He sighed, rolling his eyes. "You really don't get it. I want you, Sakuno... but not now. Someday, though..."
Without further words he kissed her again, feeling her feverish touch as he touched her and she responded, slipping the sleeves of her dress off her shoulders to carress the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, smelling that sweet, soft scent.
"Ryoma... no... not now... I'm sick." Her words brought him back to the present, and he returned to the light, easy kisses, bringing her to sit upright against him rather than lying down. "I'm sorry..." he whispered lightly into her ear.
Sakuno smiled back up at him, twining her arms around his neck and returning the kiss with a fervour that surprised Ryoma himself. Who knew that the sweet, gentle Sakuno knew how to kiss like that? Sweet, not-so-innocent Sakuno...
He couldn't help but let his hands stray, slipping from her waist to the flat, firm expanse of her stomach she squirmed away, and a devious Ryoma stored away the fact that she was ticklish somewhere in his mind for... later use. She slipped hands under his shirt, fingernails digging into his skin as he moved further up to her breasts, rubbing them through the thin cotton, stroking the firm, perky mounds, hearing her moan as the dusky nipples hardened beneath his hands... and then he stopped, smirking at her.
"Not now, Sakuno," he said, mentally chuckling at the hungry look in her eyes. "Some... other time. I'll see you tomorrow here for English lessons."
English lessons.
Somehow, Sakuno had the sinking feeling that she was going to fail English. But then again... an afternoon alone with Ryoma sounded like a good substitute for an A grade.
Arrhyth: Wheeheehee. Pretty one-shot. I don't know if I made them OOC or anything, because I don't know much about PoT... the anime just started showing and I can't find the manga... so pardon any mistakes! - And don't forget to R&R!