A/N: Hello! Well, I made another story-I've got to stop getting these writer's blocks and start focusing on continuing my other stories, but...
Disclaimer: I do not own POT.
Gold eyes darted to the left; to the right; back again to the left.
A sigh escaped pouting lips, and brows scrunched together in worry.
Checking her cell phone for the time again and again, Misashi Asami sighed again. She tightened her grip on the white messenger bag she carried, recoiling when a man bumped into her, hurrying by without saying sorry. She really wasn't used to airports.
It wasn't like she wanted to be here.
It just so happened that her parents had to go on an overseas business trip and couldn't take her along, and shipped her across the globe to her relatives.
Now, was that her fault?
Of course not.
Well, she did want to see her adorable, cute cousin again after a whole year, but still! She loved America. But, if she had to, she'd make the most out of her visit to Japan. Obviously.
"Asami-chan!!"
Asami looked up when she heard the nearly-forgotten voice of her aunt.
Lips pursed themselves into a thin, flat line.
A hand reached up to pull down the already-lowered cap even lower.
Ryoma blew another bubble with his gum, popping it with a conspicuous popping sound. He ignored the stares shot at him, and continued to grumble as his mother pulled him along by the hand. Seriously? It was embarrassing.
It wasn't like he wanted to be here.
It just so happened that his aunt and uncle suddenly decided to go on an overseas business trip and packaged his cousin (whom he hadn't seen for approximately an year ever since he came to Japan) across the sea to Japan.
And that certainly was not his fault.
It was never his fault.
"Asami-chan!!"
Ryoma looked upwards in a bored manner when his mother abruptly stopped (crashing his nose into her back) and began waving excitedly.
It didn't help that his father was grinning his perverse smile again.
The first thought that flew into Asami's head when she saw her cousin was: 'he's still so adorable!'
The first thought that flew into Ryoma's head when he saw his cousin was: 'she's still weird.'
But before the two had a chance to express their thoughts, Rinko pulled them both through the hustling crowd of Narita Airport, chatting away happily, while Nanjiroh lingered behind, looking seriously at Asami's…ah em, behind.
Meanwhile, Ryoma observed his cousin more clearly.
She still stumbled every few feet, as clumsy as always.
She still let her gaze wander before a homeless guy managed to catch her eye where she looked away hurriedly, a vivid blush on her face.
She wasn't exactly beautiful; heh, far from it. But she wasn't ugly, either. A word to describe her (from a normal guy's point of view, not a boy like Echizen Ryoma) would be cute; child-like; innocent.
True; her childish face with big gold eyes, and a look of curiosity always plastered on her face resulted in her having an innocent look.
She had dark black hair; unusual for someone with gold eyes-it was a recurring trait in the family.
She would always extend her hand (always covered up with an over-sized sleeve) to her mouth when she was thinking, she would pout easily, and she would suck in air to her cheeks when annoyed.
Ryoma thought she acted like a two year old and found it annoying. Other guys found it slightly adorable.
However, when they got to her personality, it was an entirely different matter.
She was overprotective, blunt, rash, and a total pig. If she had to, she'd kill if it meant to take revenge. She'd fought with him over food countless times, down to the very last cookie. Then again, it was fun to watch bullies get beaten to a pulp in her rage…but right after that Asami would try to drag him to the dojo where she worked to 'build him into a man.'
Rolling his eyes discreetly, Ryoma turned his back towards her, facing the window now.
Quietly, Asami peered out of the corner of her eyes at Ryoma. His profile bathed in sunlight made him look ethereal. His skin seemed to glow, and his prominent cheekbones dignified him.
He was still way up beyond her reach, after all.
She fought the urge to sigh.
Ever since they were little, Asami had watched Ryoma being overtaken by tennis. While Asami had still been focusing on getting her scales on the violin right, Ryoma had been gaining the title 'prodigy.' Slowly, powerful rivals began appearing in front of Ryoma. When they lost to his amazing skills, they began to bully him.
That was when Asami had felt more important than ever.
She would protect him, no matter what the costs. She'd taken a hiatus from playing her precious violin and piano to learning martial arts just to defend him.
Of course, she would never admit that. After all, her excuse had been a smart,
"Mother, father, these days, young girls have been being raped all throughout this country. I would like to live my youth to the fullest-and you wouldn't want me being scarred for eternity, would you?"
When she was a mere ten year old (she'd found something similar on the internet and copied it).
Needless to say, the result was desirable.
Her parents had nodded while spluttering nonsense, and an hour later, they appeared in front of her bedroom door, eyes a bit puffy and nose slightly red.
"A-Asami-chan?" her mother called.
"Hm?" Young Asami looked up from her sketchbook.
"Wh-where did you learn the word 'rape?'"
-
"Ryoma-chan," a poke.
"Ryoma-chaaan," a second poke.
"Ry-o-ma-chan," a third poke, followed by Asami getting up and winding an arm around Ryoma's thin neck.
"What?" Ryoma hissed, sending a pointing glare at his cousin. "Nee-chan, go back to your own room. Kaa-san made me clean it for days-now go."
"Ya-dda. No. No. Nooo. Not until you answer my question."
Ryoma scrunched his face in confusion, wrinkling his nose.
"Hah?"
"Who's been your hardest opponent until now?"
Most people would have simply named the person. But no. This simple question sent Ryoma's mind reeling-for, Asami was not a normal or simple person. It was quite obvious that Asami would 'eliminate Ryoma's obstacle.'
So Ryoma couldn't just name 'Fuji-senpai' right off the bat.
Someone who was just as senile as Asami-well, Fuji fit, but he wasn't going to feed Fuji to the sharks.
Someone who lived far away.
Someone who didn't know much about him.
Someone who has quite a reputation.
Someone…like…Yukimura Seiichi!
"Yukimura Seiichi. Why?" Ryoma faked innocence.
A familiar look flashed in Asami's eyes and Ryoma sighed in relief. She'd fallen for it. Now all she had to do was bite on.
Granted, Ryoma felt sorry towards Yukimura. But in order for something to be gained, something had to be lost.
'Sorry. I'll go to your funeral.'