Chapter Ten: Festival Fun

"Hya, Uncle Horio! Can you do the twist serve like Echizen Ryoma?"

"Of course! I, with my twelve years of tennis experience, can do practically anything!"

"Show us, show us!"

"Yes, show us, show us, Uncle Horio!"

Ryoma blinked nonchalantly at the scene before him. Two little children around the age of six, one girl and one boy, hopped around their uncle in enthusiasm, waving their rackets dangerously in air.

"Alright, alright!" Horio said, shooing away the kids like they were annoying fruit flies. "Stay to that side of the court! Both of you!"

When his nephew and niece were settled happily by the courtside, and both of them watching him expectantly, he tossed the ball in the air and hit it with an impressive follow-through.

The girl, Sayoko, clapped in delight. Ryoma only snorted.

Looking extremely proud of himself, Horio gave the kids a look. Much to his dismay, he found that his nephew was looking rather bored and unimpressed.

"That was not the twist serve!" he frowned. "That was a slice serve!"

The girl gasped, her hands flew to her mouth dramatically. "Uncle Horio was trying to cheat us! Uncle Horio tried to cheat us!"

Ryoma was awed that such a little girl could have a voice that loud. Bystanders and players from other courts nearby shot Horio nasty looks as he scratched his head sheepishly. Attempting to shush them, Horio offered to show them a special move.

"What move?" Kantou looked at him skeptically.

Still unaware of Ryoma's presence, he whispered something. Their eyes, especially the ones of the girl, widened to such an extent that Ryoma couldn't help but think of dead fishes without eyelids.

"Boomerang snake?!" Kantou cried out. "But that's Uncle Kaidoh's special move!"

"Oooooh! Uncle Horio is a copy-cat!"

"What? N-no, I'm not! I'm just showing you-"

"Copy-cat, copy-cat, copy-cat!" the two kids sneered as they twirled around a flustered Horio.

The watching tennis star decided that it was high time to make his presence known.

Unaware that his niece and nephew had gone silent, Horio was still busy convincing to himself that it was certainly not his fault that the twist serve had failed. It was totally the strings fault. That's right. He decided to try out the new poly-filamented strings that were imported yesterday, and what better way to try it out then by doing a professional serve?

"And I'm not a copy-cat!" he muttered, "I have my own moves too. It's just better to learn other people's move so that you'll have an advantage when you're playing games; you hear that, Kantou, Sayoko? Of course I have my own moves too! Twelve years of tennis experience and – yeow!"

"Echizen! W-What was that for?!" Horio cried, rubbing his head where the tennis ball had hit.

Ryoma, who had Sayoko's junior racket in one hand and a tennis ball in the other, smirked.

"Seriously, that hurt!"

"Sorry." Ryoma said in a tone that expressed just how un-sorry he was. "I want to ask you something."

Horio's eyes widened and twinkled in triumph. He crossed his arms and titled his head in the air, cackling. "Ah! The great Echizen coming to me for advice. That doesn't happen everyday. Why, my twelve years of tennis experience must have contributed to the whole thing. I might even be better than you! Of course—"

"Ne, ne!" Kantou interrupted, his brown eyes gazing at Ryoma's bored visage with interest. "Are you the Echizen Ryoma?"

Ryoma looked down at him before replying nonplussed, "Hnn."

"Wow! You're much cooler than I thought!"

"Yeah! Much better looking than Uncle Horio!" Sayoko chattered excitedly, ignoring Horio's gawping protests.

"Can you show as the twist serve? Please, please, pretty please? With a cherry on top?"

"Uncle Horio always says he can do it…but it never seems right. It's just not as cool as when you do it on T.V."

Sayoko gave him a look before whispering loudly, "I'll tell you a secret if you promise you won't tell." But before Ryoma could answer, she continued, "He says that you play really, really well, but not that good as everyone says you are. But he's just jealous, I think! Kantou and I saw him in the showers…he was trying to imitate you with all the twist serve moves and Drive B! Once, he slipped and hit his head, and the first thing he said was 'mada mada dane!' And you know what? He always sings the Little Mermaid Song!"

Ryoma's smirked widened as Horio blushed furiously, trying to miserably deny the fact.

"And then, once, he was waving his underwear around, pretending it to be a racquet—"

"Sayoko, you'll be late for your piano lessons! Shoo, before your mother hunts you down!" Much to Horio's relief, Sayoko and Kantou did leave reluctantly, only after Ryoma performed a slow twist serve with her racket.

"So," Horio said, pretending that his escapades had never been told. "The great Echizen wants to talk to me, eh? Finally noticed my skills and asking me for advice."

Looking thoroughly amused with his concept, Horio glanced at Ryoma to find him looking unpleasantly uninterested.

"Do you know Kagemoura?"

Horio spat out the water he was drinking.

"Who?"

Ryoma glanced at him, his face still uninterested. "Kagemoura."

"No."

Although it was a fast and straightforward reply, there was a hint of caution and wariness that didn't escape Ryoma.

"What did he do to Ryuuzaki?"

Horio gave him a guarded look before replying, "He didn't do anything."

"Hnnn…who is he?"

"I don't know him."

"Then how did you know that he didn't do anything?"

"W-well, it's because I don't know him so that I know he um…didn't do anything."

"Mada mada dane."

"H-Hey!" Horio protested, waving his towel in air. "It's not my business to tell you who he is and what he did."

"So you do know who he is."

"W-What? Did I say that? No! Y-You assume too much!"

"Che."

"Alright, fine, fine!" Horio sighed, plopping onto a nearby bench, his towel hanging across his neck. "Kagemoura's a really, really, and I mean really, wealthy businessman. He's the CEO of a bank company or something – not really quite sure. Ryuuzaki and he had some sort of an affair and then some huge scandal started."

He shot Ryoma an uncomfortable look. "It's not my place to tell. If Ryuuzaki doesn't want to tell you, she probably doesn't want me to you."

"Hnnn…are you giving up a chance to show your brilliancy?"

"What are you talking about? I'm always brilliant!" Horio said indignantly before looking at his company with narrowed eyes. "What is it with you and Ryuuzaki anyways?"

"None of your business." Ryoma said dispassionately, before strolling off the court in search of some other prey that could give him some more information. And hopefully, this time, it would be more informative.

But the tennis star couldn't help but wonder: if even Horio, who would honestly love to gain attention by spreading his knowledge of both useful and useless news, hesitated to give him the past events, who would?

"Hey!" yelled Horio from afar, his tone expressing his annoyance. "Where's the thank you?"

"Your welcome." Ryoma said without turning back. And with a wave of his hand, he disappeared around the corner, leaving a disgruntled Horio in the distance.

Sakuno sighed once again as she gazed at the white ceiling of her apartment. Fuji called only a few minutes ago to cancel their dinner due to some problems with his client or customer. It then occurred to Sakuno that she didn't even know what Fuji's occupation was.

Feeling tremendously bored out of her mind, she glanced at the clock. There was an annual Sakura Festival that was held in the district of Tokyo each year, often with food, games, and prizes that attracted thousands of people. It was a tradition between her and her grandmother to go ever since she was five. But the past few years had been hectic and frustrating, and it left her little time to enjoy any such luxury.

Her gaze swept to her pink cell phone lying on the kitchen counter. Tomoka was busy editing the next issue of the Vogue, her grandmother was probably out with her other elderly friends, and she was never really close with Horio or the gang.

Looking down on her palms, she realized exactly just how lonely she was. Everyone had their own lives to worry about, and so did she. Yet, there were qualms and a foreboding feeling that so often crept sneakily into her mind, in which she would just push it back.

Sighing once more, she grabbed her cell phone and dialed, wondering if the stress had indeed damage her brain somehow.

"Yeah?" The voice on the other end answered.

Sakuno closed her eyes impatiently. He was just so damn rude. "Echizen," she said, trying to sound as light and cheery as possible. "Are you busy?"

"No."

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to the Sakura Festival with me. It's once a year and all, and you've been away for a l-long time, so I th-thought you'd like someone to show you around. But don't get the wrong idea! I-I just thought it would be as a thank you, for, you know, taking me to the hospital and stuff."

"First, I'm twenty-two, Ryuuzaki, not five. Second, I'm not that big of a jerk to expect you, of all people, to take me around Tokyo." Ryoma said it in such a way that made her want to scream.

Sakuno had to recall the basic steps of relaxation and calmness that she had learnt in yoga class to keep from hanging up on her so-called fiancé.

"Yes, I know. I just thought—"

"You already told me what you thought." Boredom rang across his tone.

"I know, but—"

"I know that you know."

Easy does it, Sakuno. He's doing this on purpose. Sakuno had to refrain from tearing her hair out. "Okay," she said through gritted teeth, "Forget it."

However, before she could hang up, Ryoma's amused voice stopped her. "Wait. Fine, whatever, I'll go. Where did you want to go again?"

Sakuno stared mutely at her phone, wondering if she really did make the stupidest mistake of her life.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Sakuno muttered under her breath as she sprinted down the crowded streets. She was twenty minutes late and from her past experience, she knew Ryoma did not like to wait. Arriving at her destination, she found a blasé Ryoma sitting on a wooden bench, his legs propped up and scanning the crowd.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Sakuno apologized heartily while catching her breath.

"Why even bother?" Ryoma said as he looked down at the petite brunette, before walking off into the threshold of the festival.

Sakuno glared up at him before running up to him and shooting him a spiteful glower, "I'm not always late."

"No, just ninety-nine point nine percent of the time."

"At least, I don't make up lame excuses."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, what was the excuse you made when you were late for the tournament when we were still in Seigaku? I can't remember what the tournament was – the district one? Or was it the Kantou? Anyways, you made up most idiotic excuse I've ever heard! 'I met a pregnant woman who went into labor on my way.' Humph!"

"Oishi-senpai did meet a pregnant woman."

"Well, that's different!"

"Yes, and let's hear your excuse."

"W-well, a man decided he wanted to…um…die, so he jumped onto the subway tracks. The whole subway was delayed."

Ryoma snickered.

"H-hey! It's true!" Sakuno retorted, annoyed that her company did not seem to believe her. She suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Ohhhh! That's so cute!"

Following in the direction of her gaze, Ryoma saw a big, fluffy teddy bear, about the size of a small plasma television. It was the shade of honey brown, and its stuffed paws were rested upon its potbelly. Only one word struck the mind of the tennis player: ew.

Unfortunately, the man in the booth where Sakuno's current obsession sat spotted them.

"You there!" he called out. "Want to give your lady the bear?"

Before Ryoma could say no, he continued, "Just try to hit the tennis balls into the target. If all ten hits the target, and you get the bear. Of course, it's fine if you don't want to screw up in front of your girlfriend."

How ironic! Sakuno thought to herself and glanced up at Ryoma's face. She regretted immediately. Ryoma had that trademark smirk on his face – the smirk that all his opponents during a tennis match feared. It generally meant one of the two things, if not both: one, Ryoma had discovered a weakness in his opponents' playing style, or two, they're going to be sorry. Either way, it was pretty much a loud declaration that meant they're soon to be dead.

"Ne," Ryoma glanced at the man. "Does that mean if I shoot all the balls into the target, I'll get every bear?"

The man looked stunned for a few seconds, before bursting out in a fit of laughter. "I like to see you try, young man!" He wiped his tears. "Well, you're confident, aren't you? You see too much of these youngsters who thinks they rule the world everyday, and truthfully, it gets dull." He handed Ryoma a racquet.

If only he knew.

The sad fact was that, yes, Ryoma pretty much ruled the world – at least, in tennis anyways. He wasn't so far back in the world of fashion either.

"Not bad!" The man said as he watched Ryoma hit his first ball in effortlessly.

"A tennis player, eh?" he said when the second ball plonked straight through the target.

When the tenth consecutive ball went in, he was speechless as he watched Sakuno trying helplessly to carry the bear away.

Spending the next three hours watching performances, playing games and eating an assortment of Japanese sweets (and in Ryoma's case, drinking Ponta), Sakuno was quite amazed that they were actually getting along without biting down each other's neck. As pleasant as conversing with Ryoma could go (which was never really pleasant as he would only say a word or two every now and then), it was, for the lack of better vocabulary, pleasant. Of course, his ignorance was still a thorn at Sakuno's side, but his arrogance had melted a little.

Ryoma suddenly stopped in front of a booth where they were selling pets. Puppies barked playfully at the customers, lavishing up as much attention as they could possibly get from their cooing admirers. Cats, being cats, were either dozing or licking themselves clean, though plenty of them were staring gruesomely at the critters of rabbits and hamsters nearby.

Sakuno, fussing over a playful shiba inu that was white as snow, looked at Ryoma. His attention was fixed on a particular drowsy cat yawning itself to sleep. With horribly long, white strands of fur that was accompanied by black legs, ears, face, and tail, it gave a pitiful meow before dozing off. It reminded Sakuno awfully of a raccoon.

"Echizen? What's wrong?"

Ryoma seemed to snap out of his trance. "Nothing," he said, before fixing his gaze unto other cats within the vicinity. Seeing nothing that would catch his interest, he walked away with Sakuno trailing behind.

Her brown eyes softened. "Does it remind you of Karupin?"

The name obviously startled him. His amber eyes fixed onto Sakuno's attractive face, before looking away. "Hnnn."

"It must be…hard, isn't it? Traveling around the world and leaving your family behind."

Ryoma did not reply. They settled into a comfortable silence as they stopped by a bench underneath a tree, away from the crowded area.

"He died." Ryoma suddenly spoke out of the blue, his face passive and stoic.

"What?"

"Karupin. He died while I was participating in some tennis tournament."

"Oh," Sakuno said softly. "I'm sorry. I knew how much the cat meant to you."

Ryoma smiled coldly. "And I only found out six months after I finished the ATP tour."

"W-Why didn't your family tell you?"

"They didn't want me to get distracted. It's hard to contact me too, since I'm traveling week after week."

"I've always wanted a puppy." Sakuno said mildly, deciding to cheer up the mood a bit. "My parents were workaholics, so obviously, the answer was a no. I used to get so jealous when I see my friends and their puppies." She chuckled at the very thought "And now that I'm all grown up, I want one even more. It gets really lonely living by yourself."

"So get one." Ryoma said bluntly.

"I don't know, I never really had the guts."

"It's better not to have a pet."

"Why?"

"Too much emotional attachment involved."

"But that's what it's all about, isn't it? That attachment! It's better to have felt it and lost it than never having felt it at all."

"You don't miss what you never had."

"Men: they are all the same." Sakuno rolled her eyes. "But if I were—"

Ryoma stood up. "It's late, Ryuuzaki. We better get going. There's the reunion tomorrow."

"O-Oh, right!" Sakuno was bewildered at the sudden change in him. One moment, he was cocky and annoying, and then he was cold and bitter about life. Now, it seemed he was distancing himself away from her. What the heck was with him?

When Sakuno got home, she was running the whole conversation through her mind. The fact that Echizen Ryoma said something about his past, no matter how little, was really unbelievable. As far as she knew, he was never the one to talk. Sakuno made a little mental note to herself to be more tolerant of his lousy attitude from now on, when her train of thoughts was scrambled by the ringing doorbell.

"A delivery for Ryuuzaki-san," a boy wearing a cap said with two gigantic cardboard boxes placed beside his feet. His hands offered Sakuno a clipboard to sign in which she took it reluctantly.

"Isn't it a bit late for deliveries?" Sakuno asked skeptically.

The boy shrugged. "The person who sent this paid twice the shipping fee. Boss said to get it here presto, so here I am." When he turned to leave, Sakuno stopped him.

"There's no name!"

"Yeah, Boss said to keep it anonymous."

"Is there a note of any kind?"

The boy hesitated, "Yes, but I'm suppose to give it to you after you open it."

"Well, give it to me first."

"You got to open it first, ma'am.

When Sakuno opened the smaller box of the two, the one with a lot of holes for some unknown reason, she gasped. Inside, surrounded by cotton towels and white fleece rugs, lay a sleeping dog – a sleeping shiba inu, to be more exact. White as snow, it whined a bit, and twitched its small paws before resuming back to its original state.

"Oh, that jerk!" was the first thing that came to Sakuno's mind. "After all that emotional attachment crap, too!"

"The dog food, toys, bowls," the boy paused slightly. "And about everything else you need to keep a dog should all be in the other package. The paper of ownership is in there too."

"But I don't want it! Tell me the message and take the dog back!"

"Are you sure you want the message?"

"Yes." Sakuno insisted, glaring at the boy.

Searching through his pockets, he produced a piece of tiny scrap paper that Sakuno herself would've recycled. It was folded in half.

Shut up and keep it.

That was it? Forget the mental note of being nicer. He was still a lousy jerk.

A/N: Sorry for the late update!!! It's that time of the year where everything in life is either screwy, hectic, or just crazy. I don't know if I can update in June – it depends on my limited time! But enjoy for now!