Ebina Hina was alone.

In a flood of students impatiently looking for their class assignments, there she stood alone. She tried to block out the voices of excitement, of disappointment, of happiness, and of relief. She had a modicum of understanding of why they felt that way, but she didn't care. All she wanted to do that day was look at what class she was assigned to, then go back and continue making the BL fanfic that she had to post; her readers were an impatient bunch.

It doesn't even matter what class she's in anyway. No one knew her, and she wouldn't know anyone in this school. Maybe she was looking for a fresh start, but she had long given up hope. She's only here because of her mom's prodding. If only she had her mother's optimism, perhaps things would be different.

She held a long sigh as she walked closer to the bulletin board. As she was looking down, she wouldn't notice the blonde girl that was about to crash into her…

I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I should never have given you the green light. It's all my fault.

When Miura Yumiko was in the middle of choosing her new school, she had decided to dye her hair. It was sudden, but as she was in the middle of dyeing her hair in her bathroom, as she was staring at herself in the mirror, she felt that she had to do this. When her parents saw her new look, they complimented it, saying it looks good on her. She knew she had to be relieved at what they said, but for some reason, she felt ambivalent about her own transformation.

Oh well, it couldn't hurt to try anyways.

Then, she found a brochure of Soubu High. It was difficult to get into, seeing as it was an escalator school. But back in her tennis-playing days, she had pretty decent grades, so she could easily pass the exams if she put in the work.

And sports clubs weren't the school's forte, which was just perfect.

… "Like I said, it's really nothing to worry about."

"Nonsense!" Yumiko Miura scrunched herself up.

Ebina Hina was, to put it mildly, bewildered at the sudden crash. People around them put their distance, not wanting any part of what happened. She could also feel the stares directed at them. As the seconds continued to tick, her discomfort was beginning to pile up. She really, really, just wanted to get out of here.

I mean, yeah, this girl, Hina thought, looked genuinely looked apologetic, but she had to watch where she was going!

Sensing the growing discomfort, Yumiko began to lay off Hina a bit. But still, she had to do something; she didn't want to just leave things as they are.

"Alright, but I really wanna make it up to you. My name's Miura, Miura Yumiko." She then began to tear a page off her notebook and began scribbling something.

Ebina still looked really uncomfortable. It was only curiosity and politeness that just made her stay in place.

"Here, I don't wanna, like, pressure you, but if you wanna, like, hang out in a café or something, just contact me. My treat of course." Miura said as she handed the note.

Hina gingerly accepted it and gave her a slight nod.

Seeing that was as best as a positive response she could get, Miura said her goodbye. As she was walking away though, she turned back.

The spring petals were falling down as Miura looked back at Hina. The poor girl looked like she was a deer in headlights, note still clutched at her hands. Miura smiled widely then placed her hands around her mouth.

"I'll be waiting for your text!"

"Im home."

"Welcome back." As Hina neared the couch where her mom was sitting. Her mom turned around and faced her.

"So, how was it?" Her mom asked in a gentle voice. She lowered the volume of the TV.

Hina stopped at where she was and thought for a bit. The afternoon drama that her mom was watching continued to play.

"It was fine." She didn't face her mom as she replied and went straight to her room.

Her mom just sighed as she watched Ebina's back as she walked up the stairs. She wished she could do more, but Hina-chan was a little bit stubborn. Hina's dad thought it probably just a phase, but still, both of them were worried. Then she turned off the TV.

How about cooking her daughter's favorite for tonight? She thought. So, Ebina Emiko decided to do a grocery run.

Ebina quickly launched herself into bed as soon as she stepped in her room. The tidy room was pretty much what you'd expect from a bookish and introverted girl. The bookshelves contained reference books, her BL and other manga, and various Japanese history books. All of them were neatly arranged meticulously by title, topic, and volume. A lot of her history books were gifted from her dad, who was a history professor at Chiba University. He was happy that they both shared the same interests, although Ebina's reasons for being so were slightly different. But he didn't need to know that.

She couldn't focus on writing, so she just fidgeted the whole time, then alternating between sitting at her desk, trying to read her books, or laying down her bed.

Hours later, when the sun was already way down, she was at her desk, staring at the note that was placed on her book stand. It was slightly crumpled at the edges. The handwriting was decent enough, and there was even a smiley and heart scribble at the end.

She was pretty overwhelmed back then, considering what happened, but she thought, maybe, she was being unfair at the girl, Miura.

"Maybe I should take her up on her offer then." She surprised herself as she mentioned that. She then lay back down in her picked up her phone and stared at it hard. She couldn't help but show a hint of a smile.

Curse her mother and her boundless optimism, because maybe, just maybe, things were truly beginning to change.

Miura Yumiko was mindlessly plucking at her guitar at her bed as she was deep in thought. Around her, there were tons of souvenirs from the places she had for her tennis tournaments. There was also the guitar stand and case beside her study desk. Her lone bookshelf contained all the volumes of Prince of Tennis, various reference books, random guitar books, and some more souvenirs. Beside the bookshelf was a floor mirror. At the forgotten corner of her room, there was a box that contained various handbooks about tennis and scouting CDs. All in all, it wasn't the tidiest of rooms, much to her mother's chagrin. Back then when she played tennis, she would be so exhausted after practices so she couldn't bother arranging or cleaning up. It became a habit that remained even after she stopped playing.

Miura was a bit perturbed at what happened earlier. Her parents noticed when they were eating dinner earlier. Luckily, they didn't press her when she just insisted that she was tired.

She knew what happened was her fault, so she tried to make it up to the girl. Back then, when she looked at that girl, it seemed like the poor girl was expecting the worst. She wondered what had happened. So, right then and there, Miura decided she had to look after her.

Shoot, she forgot to ask for her name. She really hoped that girl would text her.

She continued her mindless playing well into the night, with her unlocked phone beside her.

Hallo-hallo everyone! This is just a glimpse of a story that's been brewing on my mind. Don't expect it to be published anytime soon though. As always, leave a review if you have anything to say, and I mean anything. Thanks!