A/N: Sorry for the super late delay. But here's chapter ten! Three more chapters to go. Opinions on review? Thank you. :)

Bye, Kitchen

"Ryoma-kun is crazy," Sakuno thought she took a peek on the tennis prince, who was casually flipping through the channels.

There's no way he would win, right?

Right?

Ryoma stopped messing around with the television and turned to Sakuno. "If you're thinking that I'm crazy or something similar to that, then give up then. Let me win the bet, so you don't have to deal with me."

Although, he didn't really mind spending time with her…and he was sure she felt the same way…

"No way I'm losing now."

The tennis prince smirked. "Good. For a second there, I thought you were turning to a chicken."

A vein popped on the girl's head.

Let us rephrase that.

A vein popped on Ryuzaki Sakuno's head.

Ryuzaki Sakuno—the most patient person you'll ever meet.

That she even waited for the thick-skulled prodigy Echizen Ryoma.

She took a deep breath and looked over the clock. It was quarter past ten, and she still hasn't eaten breakfast. Her stomach grumbled.

Ryoma, with his fast and super-amazing-mada-mada-da-ne-skills, heard the poor gut's request.

And decided to do something about it.

He got up from the couch and headed straight for the kitchen. Sakuno watched him go, question marks hanging over her head russet head.

When she was sure the prince was out of range, she asked herself aloud, "What's he up to?"

So, she decided to follow him.

-Two hours and 15 minutes later-

12: 30pm—Thirty minutes past noon, and they were lying on the tiled floors of the Ryuzaki kitchen.

Correction: What used to be the Ryuzaki kitchen.

Pots and pans were all over the place, and a thick gooey-looking thing was present on the only stable pot on the stove.

Oh, and there were also black markings on the walls, and a neon-looking onion stuck on the ceiling.

"Remind me to never let you anywhere near a stove again," Sakuno breathed out.

Ryoma turned to look at her from his position near the oven, nodded his head and sighed.

At first, she seemed elated that the prince had offered to cook, and even though his excuse was he hadn't eaten himself, she was happy all the same. At least she was going to eat.

"If we are ever going to be together, I'll make sure she does the cooking all the time." The prince thought discreetly.

"AYAA! What happened in here?"

Both teens turned to look at Oishi, Eiji and Momo, who were all standing on the doorway of the kitchen.

Ryoma got up quickly and dusted himself. Oishi ran passed him to check Sakuno up, after he handed the groceries to the baffled Momoshiro.

"Ryuzaki-chan, are you alright?" He brushed the smudges on the sleeves on her top, before looking straightforwardly at Echizen. "Echizen, what happened?"

"Something smells like burning-"

Just then, Taka-san walked in to the kitchen, carrying another brown paper bag. He dropped the bag in amazement-err, astonishment.

"…guys?"

Ryoma turned his cap down to hide his embarrassment, but Eiji was too quick for him. The redhead took his cap and placed it on top of the fridge—where he knew the prodigy would not be able to reach it.

"I…tried to…cook…" He mumbled.

Silence.

Taka-san placed the groceries on the counter before looking back, "I'm sorry, but did I just hear that you tried to cook?"

"Hai…"

With that, Momo and Eiji began laughing hysterically. Taka-san and Oishi were trying to to contain their laughter, and brushed it off with forced coughs.

When Oishi had composed himself, he said, "Echizen, help us clean up, then."

The prodigy could only nod before getting the broom from the corner.

Eiji had led Sakuno out of the kitchen and into the living room, where Momo had given her a package of oats, for her bath. Tezuka had called and stated that bathing with oats could help heal the itchiness of the chicken pox.

Taka-san was in-charged with cooking, and Oishi was helping with the cleaning.

The what-seems-to-be-an-onion fell on the ground where Echizen was cleaning and rolled off. He looked down and observed the object before picking it up. He was about to throw it, when he felt a fur-like texture-

Wait. Onions aren't furry.

He dropped the thing on the ground.

It bounced.

His lip turned upwards into a mischievous smirk.

"I win."