A/N: Its been so stressful lately.

This is not heavy drama. This is intended for light reading, and the plot is not by any means heavy. If anything this will be ridiculous, fluff-ish. So to anyone who doesn't like fluff, please don't flame me, because you have been warned. Light reading. Light plot. Not heavy drama. Thanks.

To suit the story I have tweaked their age gap way closer than it originally is. The plot follows modern times. Can be OOC. Standard disclaimers apply.

Introduction

Cringe-worthy

She wore her heart on her sleeve, only in his presence. She hated it, of course, but her legs couldn't help but turn into jelly when he was around. Her tongue goes flaccid, her chest gets awfully tight, and her heart always, always skipped a beat.

She would clutch the area over her heart and sigh like the dumbass that she was.

Her friends would wipe the side of her mouth, exaggerating a drool on her face. And they would laugh at her, oh how they would laugh at her. But she does not hear. What she hears is the rush of blood in her head, all concentrating towards her heart. And she could only hear the pounding boom in her chest whenever he was near.

Why did he know all this? Because this was what she told him, expressed in her surprisingly neat handwriting on the pink-colored stationery in his hand.

He could smell the scented paper, could even feel the slight grease that was from her lip gloss. (She probably kissed the letter after she wrote it, for purposes only a young woman would know.)

"I like you, Himura-senpai." She said, underneath the Sakura trees that were raining pink blossoms, with the wafting smell of used school books and freshly cut grass. She shut her eyes tight, she knew she was as red as a firetruck, but she didn't want to think about it. "I liked you since the first time I saw you."

He stared at her quietly, an inevitable blush rising on his cheeks. He tried to focus his attention on the falling sakura blossoms, and he thought,

How he hated this season.

Whenever the pink trees start blooming, feelings of dread start growing in him too. He knew his locker would be filled with unrequited love letters, he knew that confessions like these would overpower his busy schedule.

He knew that he would have to say the dreaded words, "I'm sorry," and he knew he would leave a string of broken hearts.

Ever since his first year in high school it had been this way. Now he was a senior, and it seemed that the problem only worsened. But what was he to do?

"I'm sorry if I was a nuisance to you this school year," The girl before him continued, "It's only because I like you. I really, really like you… I do hope you kind of like me too."

She was trembling like a pitiful little flower right under his neutral stare. And he thought, how farcical it was, how ironic. The girl that stood before him was highly vulnerable, shying away from his eyes and blushing like mad… just like any other girl, if he would have judged,

But she was not any other girl. She was Kaoru Kamiya, the infamous Princess of Oniwaban, the most notorious group in the school. Their main members comprised of privileged rich kids, and that included her. Although they were not troublemakers, and she looked like she couldn't hurt a fly, the rowdy, trouble-making students of the school feared them, they worshipped the ground they walked on:

And her, especially her.

Rumor has it she faced off against the infamous delinquent leader, Makoto Shishio, who was a senior student at that time, in her FIRST DAY as a FRESHMAN.

That she had the administrative staff under her thumb, and they would bend over backwards to her every beck and call,

And one particular rumor, one so ridiculous he would have his head shaking in disbelief: that her family was one of the founding pillars of the Yakuza, hence the influence.

"Himura-senpai?" she said. She looked so naïve, pleading at him with blue eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses and long pigtail braids.

He closed his eyes, he had to gather his courage to say this. She was being deceptively innocent, so different from the usual persona he knew.

But he wouldn't know fully.

He didn't know her on a personal level, he only knew her through rumors, and her association with her infamous lot.

The Student Council President tried to recall, when was the first time he even met her? He probably passed her by on the hallways, she might have seen him when he was delivering his welcome speech during her freshman year… he could not recall, for the life of him.

"I'm sorry, Kamiya." He found his strength and opened his eyes, he locked gazes with the girl. Immediately her lips pursed together and he heard a soft whimper, and her eyes were filled with tears.

Kenshin stepped back. He really didn't want to make her, or anyone, for that matter, cry. He had been a good boy for most of his life, a good student, he never wanted to distress anyone. "We're very different, you and I –"

"I have an A-plus in all my subjects, well, except for… except for math—" she was abnormally fixated in the ends of her pigtail braid, "In math, I have an A…"

He paused a bit, surprised by the revelation. But he brought his attention back, "Athletic girls are not my type,"

"I practically grew up in a shrine, I know how to play the shamisen with my eyes closed, Makoto-ue is teaching me the piano—" she tried to smile at him, but she could not keep a straight face, she was so embarrassed just standing before him it almost looked comical.

Kenshin shook his head, refusing to be distracted. "Kamiya,"

"If you're looking for the Yamato Nadeshiko type, I-I know how to host a formal tea ceremony, I know most of the festival dances, I can —"

"Kamiya,"

"Sekihara-sama is teaching me how to cook,"

"Kamiya, that's not the point—"

"I am very lady-like, Senpai, I swear!" She flustered, "I-I only wear bloomers underneath my skirt because I have Kendo lessons… But in fact, right now I'm wearing white lace panties!" She started to lift the hems of her skirt up to prove to him.

Kenshin's hand darted out and he quickly seized her wrist. "Kamiya." He shook his head,

"I don't always look like this! I can make myself pretty like the other girls, too—"

"Kamiya," He sighed,

"Senpai, if you only get to know me!"

"Kamiya,"

"If Himura-senpai could only look past my flaws and give me a chance—"

"I have a girlfriend."

The moment he said the words, her tears finally streaked down. Shamelessly, pitifully down her cheeks, she withdrew her hands and clutched it over her heart, the gesture one would only see in sappy teenage dramas.

Her unusual blue eyes searched for an explanation, her lips parted slightly, silently begging for an answer.

"And I promised to marry her when we graduate."

He stared in wonder at her plain face. For the first time in his young life, he witnessed the manifestation of the word crestfallen. Her eyes went blank, and she let out a weird choking sound, as if the air were knocked out of her lungs.

Last year the Kamiya girl confessed to him in the same manner. And the year before that, and the year before. But at least for the three years that had passed, whenever he uttered the words "no", her eyes would gloss over temporarily, and then a fire of determination would surge into her spirit.

"Ah, next year Senpai will say yes!" she would hopelessly say.

But this time was different. Was it the fact that this was his last year in high school?

was it the words he uttered to her, "I have a girlfriend,"?

Whatever it was it definitely seemed to have penetrated through her immensely dense skull: The feared Princess of Oniwaban took in a heavy breath, and finally, she let out a pitiful wail of heartbreak.

Kenshin winced. The teenage girl cried like a little child, sobbing and hiccupping so loudly and uncontrollably, so contradicting from her badass reputation. He would have reached out to offer her his pocket square, but he thought it useless now.

"I'm sorry," said he, and he really did mean it. But what was he to do? And to be honest, things were getting annoying.

She was causing a scene and it had attracted a crowd. Students started sprouting up, from bushes and trash cans and kami knows where. Glares were thrown at his direction, as her trusted friends started forming between him and the girl.

"He made Kamiya cry," a towering student- the martial arts nationals champion Aoshi Shinamori, he recognized, stared down at him.

"I don't believe it." another student walked in, the one with a perpetual smile on his face. Science wiz and chess master, not to mention certified psychopath Sejiro Seta's smile dropped, seeing the Kamiya girl sobbing pathetically on the grass. "Did he now?"

"It's Himura, isn't it?" Said a female student. She was one of the ridiculously wealthy ones, Kenshin recognized, but was rottenly spoiled: Megumi Takani.

In the background, the annoying, childish wailing of the Kamiya girl continued.

"How could you do that to her," another female, Misao Makimachi stepped forward, "All she asked from you was a chance. Are you happy now, President Himura? Are you happy that you made Kaoru cry?!"

Kenshin gaped, before shaking his head in disbelief. If they were trying to bully him into feeling guilty, he will not have it.

He turned and walked away.

He really shouldn't feel as guilty as he was at all. He barely knew Kamiya, her face was like the many other faces that he wouldn't remember if he were to pass her in the hallways. And was it not unfair to him either? A twinge of resentment poked at him, what made her so special from the others? The Student Body President shook his head.

Privileged rich kids, he thought sadly. They think they can have everything they want.

He stopped and looked around him, as the cherry blossoms fell like rain.

It was such a beautiful season, but he couldn't stand it.

It was the season that he was forced to be the villain,

To people he did not even know.

And he hated it, how he hated it.

But he was graduating months from now. And when he did, he was set to leave Japan for another Scholarship Program. He will marry Tomoe, start with his program at an ivy-league University.

This will be the last time he would be bothered by the Kamiya girl, and any other girl he didn't know for that matter.

He smiled despite himself.

Life was still bright and beautiful,

As he walked away from the Cherry Blossom rain.