She never came.

Echizen Ryoma gritted his teeth as he heated his fingers on the metal heater; despite the gloves, they were numb and swollen beyond recognition. Rubbing the skins together in desperate desire for warmth, he leaned back to rest his head on the foot of his bed. The floral scent of the hotel sheets wafted around him, and he closed his eyes to reflect on the night's events.

It may sound cruel, but he only remembered her because of her performance tonight; the thought of her never occurred to him during his glorious days and countless victories over the world's top tennis players. He did not care the slightest about fans or supporters - he never lacked them. Hence he only realized this emptiness when he found his e-mail inbox exploding with Christmas e-cards and letters wishing him a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, or even extremely early requests for Valentine dinners... and nothing for his birthday. His 21st birthday.

And then he realized that he has no fans.

Ryoma frowned and stood up to stretch his legs; stiff from the long wait for what he thought to be his one true fan... although he wasn't so sure now, if she cared then why didn't she turn up? He had sat there, in front of the vending machine for two hours, and not a single shadow escaped his sight. Yet there was no sign of her, not a sound in the park, only the soft glows from the twinkling stars falling upon him, rolling down onto the ground like tiny jewels of diamond.

It had been freezing, he had thought his jaw would splinter from the piercing wind. But he hadn't taken much notice at first, his heart had been so overflowed with warmth from her words that even the biting temperture could not wipe the smirk off his face. Time, however, was merciless. As seconds ticked by, his face began to coat over with ice, and his emotions were once again frozen. He had thought that finally she would be there when he most needed support, at last there would be someone who could pull him out of the darkness trapping him and hiding him from anything but tennis, yet she failed.

Perhaps she knows someone else called "Ryoma" and the piece was meant for him?

The boy shook his head, the tea bag in his hand quivered slightly as he dropped it into the gleaming china cup. No... even an idiot would know that it is unlikely, if not impossible. More realistically, she would have had the courage to say it only because she knew he wouldn't be there, and when she found out that he had been watching, the courage left her and she backed out of his invitation.

She did not mean it. The speech, the composition, the expressions, everything was false... done only to show her talent and her stupid tragic love story.

The hand holding the teaspoon tightened and the tips of his fingers grew pale. Anger swept over his mind, nibbling away the remaining warmth and comfort the girl had brought him, instantaniously. It left him with a strange sense of loss, which he ignored and filled up with a single gulp of Earl Grey. The steaming liquid scorched his throat painfully, he coughed.

I was just fooling myself, wasn't I? Who would've thought that... the famous Echizen Ryoma... would be used by a young woman?

A bitter smile twisted his lips as he collapsed onto the silky feather duvet. With his throat still burning, the boy fell back into the darkness where the glimmer of light had appeared, vanished, and its foggy illusion had begun to fade into nothingness.

--

Crack.

A quiet groan escaped his lips as Ryoma sat up and massaged his neck. Ow... The boy stared into the spotless mirror directly in front of the bed, his eyes glazed with sleep as he failed at an attempt to smooth down his emerald green hair springing up like tiny twigs behind his skull. Squinting into the golden waterfall tumbling through the unshaded windows, he swung one leg over the edge of the mattress and did a small whimper... the muscles were even more stiff than last night; a dull pain pulsed through his ankle like a jolt of electricity. Never will I sit still for two hours again. A frustrated frown creased his forehead as he pulled on a sweater over his wrinkled T-shirt.

Limping over to the electric water jug, he flicked on its switch and waited for the preparation of his morning coffee, just as memories gradually seeped through the thick fog of exhaustion. Last night... something happened last night...oh...Ryuzaki... I found her. He reached up to rub his eyes. ...And then I lost her. Sighing, his fingers closed around a glass of cool water and turned it upside-down, the contents splashed over his head and ran down his neck. It was refreshing, and helped to flatten his hair as well as clear up his brain. Liquid trickled off his chin and onto the expensive carpet, yet he made no move to wipe it up.

He was tired, so tired that he just wanted to curl up and sulk. Yet he resisted the urge to do so and slid down onto the floor instead. Resting the back of his head against the waxed wood of the wardrobe, he closed his eyes. This is pathetic... who cares!? Who cares about a girl? There are thousands in the world to choose from...! But there seemed to be a disconnection between his mind and his heart, for he found his spirit still weighing down upon him, crushing his insides as he buried his face into his arms. Water continued to drip from his fringe. The roar of the eletric jug increased in volume, spitting bursts of water vapour from the mouthpiece until a small 'click' calmed the sizzling heat and silenced the deafening hiss.

Feeling so weak that he could barely stand up, he grabbed the wardrobe knob to hurl himself upright, but not without bumping his forehead into the opening wardrobe door. He cursed. What is wrong with me today!?

He took a small sip of the rich liquid, but almost immediately spat it out; it tasted oddly sour on his tongue. Ryoma scowled as the coffee swished around in his mouth like mouth-washing liquid, and finally swarmed down his oesophagus. But at that instant, a violent series of coughs squeezed his chest tight as he sensed a burning pain in his throat. The sweater deformed into a bundle of wool in his fist as he gripped his throbbing chest...

Tap, tap.

Crap. Ryoma shot a glance at the door and caught a waver of shadow underneath the crack. Swiftly, he dropped the cup down onto the saucer with a loud clatter, shoved the whole thing further onto the counter and out of the way, then yanked the door open, expecting to see one of the old ladies delivering his breakfast for him at nine o'clock-

Except that she was very far from being old.

A pair of tired liquid brown eyes stared up at him, a small, nervous smile curling her lips. Her hair was the same as last night, two plaited buns below her ears, but the diamond clip has been replaced by a simple hairpin obviously hastily put in place - there were strands of hair which had been overlooked and was hanging loosely by her rosy cheeks. Ryoma's heart couldn't help but clench at the sight of her, at the sight of Ryuzaki Sakuno who had been the cause for his cold today. He touched his neck subconsciously - his throat felt swollen and feverish, no doubt his voice would be ruined as well.

"Uh... good morning, Ryoma-kun." She blushed slightly at his casual wear, and clutched at her own woollen skirt with both hands.

He did not repond, merely stared back at her with those cold hollow eyes as he would at a statue.

"I got your message last night, thank you."

"...you didn't come." The amber eyes darkened as he leaned against the door frame. His voice was quiet but cold as steel.

"...I did! But you never turned up." She frowned and gazed up at him, as if searching his face for a reason. Her deep questioning eyes made him look away with unease as he scowled and replied:

"I never turned up!? What, you think I got this cold for being cosy and warm in this puny little hotel room??" Beginning to croak, he coughed again but only seemed to make the itch in his throat more unbearable.

Sakuno studied his face closely and saw the frown between his brows as he swallowed. Her expression softened as she reached out to test his forehead, yet he brushed her hand away with an icy "Don't touch me."

"...I don't know why we didn't see each other, but I did go there, to the tennis courts." She said quietly, and her hand dropped to her sides. Ryoma noticed the hurt look in the chocolatey pools but was too angry to care.

"You don't believe that I went? I was the one who asked you to go, for Goodness sake!" His knuckles paled as he pressed against the door frame. A storm raged within his mind, blinding him from all logic. This has gone beyond the matter of his pride, but rather the emotional wound left to scar in his memory from the first betrayal of a girl. A girl who had revived his hope for life and then completely diminished it.

"I didn't say..." She was almost on the verge of tears. Gripping the leather handles of her handbag, she lowered her head to hide the moisture glistening in her under her lashes.

Time froze as silence encircled the corridor. There was a creak of a floor board, and then dead silence once again. Ryoma peered down at the top of the girl's head, his mind was blank, yet filled with countless emotions at the same time. Resentment, hope, gladness, relief, anger, tore his heart into microscopic pieces. But still he had not the faintest idea what to do. Should he blame her, yell at her, scream dirty words at her face? Or should he hug her, whisper to her, pour his heart out over her shoulders? His mind was in a muddle, a blurry whirlpool of confusion.

Just a few moments ago, he would have had no hesitations, the blame would have been all hers. Yet the instant he saw her face, he knew he couldn't do so. Despite his raging temper, his bursting frustration, her gentle eyes easily, and annoyingly, smoothed over his hatred.

But there was still some anger left within him, for Ryoma was not one to accept defeat so soon. Stubbornly, he straightened and waved her away with one hand.

"Go, we've nothing else to say." He turned his back to her, so that the sight of her would not boost his desire to give in and hold her. Therefore, of course, he did not see her quiver and her eyes lift and widen with shock. There was another pause.

"But we need to figure out why even though we both went-"

"Who knows if you just said so? Don't worry, I don't blame you... anyone who would've gone out to that damn tennis court in the middle of Christmas Eve would've been crazy..." He smirked coldly, and clicked the door shut behind him.

Yet neither left the door for the next half hour.

One leaned on the inside with a bitter smirk on his lips, brows locked together in a frown, and feeling regret and anger tearing his heart in half as he thumped the carpeted floor with his fist in frustration. While the other crouched in the hallway and sobbed silently into her knees, shedding tears of bitterness for the misunderstanding and the lack of trust he feels for her.

Merely a day ago, neither would have expected the happiness of reunion between them could be forgotten, and be replaced with an endless cycle of tears, loss, and loneliness.

--

Shivering, Sakuno wrapped the fur tighter around her kimono. The layers of silk felt almost liquidy against her skin, yet the obi securing the folds around her waist was so tight that she could hardly breath in spite of the towels cushioning her stomach. She picked the pattern personally, as she loved the scarlet background which resembled a pool of red wine with pink cherry blossom petals gliding along its shimmering surface. The gold trims were luxurious yet elegant, and she very much admired the soft glows they make as she strolls in the full-scale kimono under the sunlight.

The showers of golden sun is always the warmest on the first day of a year, as if promising a brilliant yearful of richness and joy. Sakuno tilted her face upwards, towards the sun, as she waited in the queue of people waiting for their chance to show their respect for the Gods and make their wishes known at the historical shrines around the country. The row of excited faces snaked through the quad and down the long stony staircase, most of them laughing or flirting with another as the new year symbolized a significant marking for their relationships.

Yet she was alone, like always.

Sakuno smiled bitterly at the remembrance of an unexpected misunderstanding a week ago. Finally, she thought she had found the boy who she has never been able to forget. Finally, she thought the realisation of his importance in her heart a few years ago would be rewarded. They were close, so close to being reunited... yet the lack of trust between them stole away the chance for a proper explanation for the night's events to be made.

He does not trust me. Sakuno frowned as she felt tears stinging and threatening to fall from her eyes. Stubbournly, she wiped it away. Tears on the first day of the year are considered a sin... since most people believe that it would set the fortune for the year.

The queue was moving at an agonisingly slow speed. The heavy garments of the kimono was beginning to strain her shoulders as she stood silently behind a pair of lovers whispering shyly into each other's ears. However, all of a sudden, the girl's expression darkened at the words of the boy, and she slapped him across the cheek, hard. The boy stared back at her, speechless, as she trembled with anger and muttered something in such a low voice that even Sakuno could not capture the words. The young boy retorted something, to which the girl became even more annoyed and finally stomped off leaving the boy awkwardly frozen on the spot.

The lack of trust... Sakuno's heart pounded as she registered a thought in her brain. An idea which is does not seem impossible... if not extremely possible.

Maybe... he does not trust anyone...?

Perhaps it's not just me who he shows no trust in?

As she chewed over this theory more and more, the ripples in her heart calmed fraction by fraction. Of course there is the possibility that she was thinking too much, and that this is not the case at all. But somehow it provided her with the comfort and peace which she has not been able to possess for the past week.

Her frown ceased a little as she stepped forward to shake the thick rope, drop a couple of bronze coins into the offeratory box, and clapped her hands to make her wish. Lowering her head and closing her eyes, Sakuno forced the image of the boy aside.

I wish safety and health will remain with my grandma this year, and that all my friends will be happy and well... also I wish the best of luck for Ryoma-kun's matches-

"I wish safety and health will remain with my grandma this year, and that all my friends will be happy and well."

The voice interrupting her wishes made her look up in surprise, not so much at the fact the wish was the exact replica of hers, but the fact that someone said their wishes aloud, as if purposefully shouting for someone's attention...

She froze.

The pair of golden eyes bore into hers like a stream of honey trickling into a pool of chocolate. Sakuno could feel blood drain from her face and cold sweat breaking out over her back as the boy in front of her looked away. The next instant saw her being pulled away from the platform where hunderds of people were watching, down the long flight of stairs, weaving through groups of chatting adults and children, and onto the streets.

When she finally regained the ability of speech, Ryoma had dragged her two streets away and seemed to have no intention to stop. She ripped her arm from his grip and skidded to a stop, glaring at his face as he turned around in slight surprise.

"R-Ryoma-kun! What are you doing here!?" She was still breathless from the run, and did not attempt to hide the confusion and frustration in her voice.

Ryoma looked at her in silence, until she grew so uncomfortable of his attention that she began smoothing out her kimono and flattening her hair. Yet when he did actually speak, she wished he hadn't at all.

"You got lost that night, didn't you?" His voice was still husky from the cold, yet it contained the familiar tone of coolness and demand.

"..." Not replying, she looked away. But the faint blush on her cheeks confirmed it all. "You didn't let me explain..."

Ryoma looked at her in silence. His expression was serious, yet the iciness has melted away.

She laughed drily and changed the subject. "Why are you still here?? Don't you need to go back to the US?"

He shrugged. "Don't you want me here?"

Shaking her head, she denied hurriedly. "Of course I want you here... I mean, it's none of my business anyway..." Her face warmed with embarrassment.

"I think it is your business." A flash of mischief glinted in his eyes. "I was planning to leave on Boxing Day, but you ruined my plan. I couldn't leave... without making up with you."

"How did you know I got lost?" She asked curiously.

"... I just thought you wouldn't be the kind of person to lie to me, when you said you were there."

Her heart leapt as she sensed his trust in her. A faint smile warmed her features.

"...How should I make up for ruining your busy schedule then, Echizen-san?"

"... Just stay by my side for today, that will be enough." A low mumble that would easily be missed had she not strained her ears and read his lips.

A cool breeze swept past them, scooping up a handful of early blossoms and spraying the petals upon the deserted street. The shower of snowy white buds drew his amber eyes towards the sky, just as he felt a soft silky hand slip into his. He coughed.

"You still have the cold, don't you?" Sakuno asked by his shoulder, her voice wavering with worry.

"... It's no big deal."

"... I'm sorry for making you wait."

Ryoma smiled.

You have no idea how painful this week has been... knowing you are somewhere out there but unable to give up my pride.

He shifted his eyes to her face, watching her deep hazel eyes shimmer with admiration as she held out the other hand to catch the scattering petals.

I know if I don't find you this time, I'll never be able to have you... that's why I couldn't leave.

That's when I realized...

His rough fingers curled gently around her slender ones.

"Can't do anything about it now, can I?"

...I can't do anything about loving you.

--

A/N: Well, as some people requested, I have written a fluffy sequel to go with "The Birthday Before Christmas"... sorry if it seems a bit rushed, but I did only decide to write this after I posted the other one up, so the ideas are probably not as strong. Anyway, I hope this satisfies the wishes of most people, inform me about your opinions nevertheless, and I wish a Happy New Year to you all!

Oh, and I forgot to mention in the story about how Ryoma knew Sakuno was at the shrine... I was going to put it in but could not find anywhere suitable, so just let it pass... :P