Andante

Composed by Chiaki Nozomi

Ryo.Saku.

Sakuno blinked in surprise as she pulled out the plain white paper. Scribbled on the note was 'Meet me in the courts at five.' Sakuno wrinkled her nose in puzzlement. What could possibly be the point of this? It couldn't have come from Ryoma, he wasn't the type to do something so indirectly, and calling her to the courts… which courts? Tennis? Basketball? Volleyball?

Sakuno frowned. If she wandered around at all the courts on campus, she would miss today's practice. "I can't leave whoever it is waiting either," she sighed. Suddenly the bell rang, and she jumped in fright. She slipped her feet into her indoor shoes, not bothering to put them on properly, and began to dash to her classroom. Her record was lovely until she neared the door. Her right shoe flew, and she slipped and crashed into the door.

Sakuno groaned and rubbed her right foot. The voices of her classmates drifted to her ears, most wondering what happened, some laughing from the girls' startled screams. Homeroom teacher, Sakura-sensei, opened the door and looked down with a frown that morphed into shock at seeing her bruised eye. "Ryuzaki-san," she exclaimed, "What happened to your eye?"

"A tennis ball hit me," she muttered, and stood, grimacing. No matter how many times she fell, each time still had its own special pain and spot to make sore. Sakura-sensei chuckled and held the door for her. Upon her entrance, the class gasped collectively. Sakuno looked down, embarrassed.

"Whoa, did Ryuzaki-san get into a fight," a girl whispered in the back, "I never thought she was the type!"

"Yeah right," her friend replied, "She's the one who probably got her ass kicked."

Sakuno listened to the bits and pieces of the conversations, innerved. Some ranged from the truly bizarre (compensation S&M dating) to the simple fight (although the reasons behind the fight deserved its own special category). She snuck a glance at Ryoma, who only looked out the window, bored. Typical Ryoma. She finally muttered the 'I'm sorry I'm late.' and quickly walked to her seat, face flushed.

Almost immediately after she sat, several notes landed on her desk, each asking the story behind her eye. Sakuno sighed, and began scribbling 'a tennis ball hit me' on each note.

Ryoma frowned at the fuss the class made over Ryuzaki's eye. Compensation dating? Daughter of Yakuza? Some people needed to get a grip on reality. Although it did look nice compared to what it could have been without ice. And Ryoma knew that if he hadn't walked over to help her, she would've calmed down after a couple of minutes and began taking more pictures. He didn't know whether to admire her dedication or curse it.

He looked at his hand, still miffed about the incident yesterday. Since when did he have feelings for that girl? And if her strange effect on him wasn't annoying enough, turns out Coach had the audacity to go back on his word and schedule practice a half hour early. "Practice at five," scribbled neatly on a note with no explanation whatsoever. Ryoma growled when he first saw the note, and threw it into a trash bin.

The bell rang, and a prim and proper woman walked in. Ryoma stretched and yawned. Nap time.

"A confession," Sakuno questioned, fingering the ends of one of her braids. "But... who," she asked in confusion, "And why so vague?"

Her best friend, Tomo, grinned. "Who else is that vague," she asked innocently, laughing when Sakuno's face turned red. "Excited," she asked, and Sakuno shook her head quickly.

"He's not the type to do that," she replied, and looked at the note with a frown.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, the only place it could be referring to is the tennis courts. I haven't heard any rumors about anyone from the other teams liking you." Sakuno bit her lip, not allowing herself to get caught up in Tomo's fantasies. "And he did help you yesterday, right?"

"Any of the other members would do the same," she replied, trying to block out her best friend. No use in getting excited and disappointed. . . Tomo sighed when she stopped getting a reaction out of Sakuno. It wasn't fun to tease her without a reaction.

"Did you develop those shots of the challenge match yet," Tomo asked, and Sakuno brightened, nodding. She reached in her bag and pulled out a mini album, already organized by team player and group shots. Tomo flipped through, smiling. "You've gotten better at this," she complimented, but smirked once she finished doing a quick flip through. "But where's Ryoma? I know you didn't leave him out."

Sakuno blushed. "I had too many of him. . . so I made a separate album," she said reluctantly. Tomo laughed in glee, then gasped when Sakuno pulled out an identical album, filled completely.

"If I didn't know you for most of my life, I'd say you were some sort of stalker." Sakuno's eyes widened and she bit her lip in worry.

"I can't help it, Tomo, he just looks so graceful when he plays. . . I find myself getting every shot of the match."

Tomo sighed and patted her friend on the head like a dog, "You've got it bad, my friend," then, in a moment of madness, "Why don't you confess? It doesn't look like boy of wonder is going to do that anytime soon."

Sakuno didn't blush like Tomo expected, rather, she sighed in hopelessness. "I want to Tomo, but tennis is his life. I don't want to be a distraction." Tomo blinked in surprise, then burst out laughing, to Sakuno's dismay.

"I doubt you're on his radar enough to be called a 'distraction'." Sakuno frowned and bowed her head.

"I know," she mumbled, "I know."

Five came too fast. Sakuno found herself making a beeline for the tennis courts, but stopped herself as they came into view. Why was she doing this? She could just ignore the letter, and leave whoever it was waiting. . . then they'd get the point, right? She turned and started to walk away when she heard a familiar pok Someone . . . Someone was actually at the tennis courts?

Sakuno dashed to the courts, then stopped when she saw Ryoma hitting a ball against the wall. Her heart stopped, then began beating like she just finished a marathon in record breaking time.

She stood watching him play, the movements that looked so natural it made tennis seem easy, the ever present smirk that appeared amidst of concentration, the way he stopped every ten shots and switched hands. . .

What was he doing here? He never practiced early, although she had seen him practice late before. She opened her mouth to say his name, but something had stolen her voice away. She watched him in awe and prayed he would turn and notice her.

Something was wrong. His teammates were not here yet. Ryoma frowned and began hitting a ball against the wall. "Five minutes," he told himself, "Five minutes and then I leave and kill whoever put that note into my shoebox." A misplaced slam caused him to dash for the ball, missing it by inches. He half growled his frustration, picked up the ball, and started to walk back to the locker room.

He stopped abruptly when he saw her. His chest tightened a bit, and he blinked in surprise. What was she doing here? Was she the one who put that note in his box? Despite his shock, at that thought he flamed with anger. Another fangirl. They were all the same. He scowled and walked over to her, ready to chew her out.

Sakuno bit her lip as she saw Ryoma approach, looking angry. She began to shake as he neared, and as soon as he opened his mouth she bowed and blurted out, "I'm sorry!" Ryoma closed his mouth in surprise. "I got a letter saying to meet someone at the courts at five, and when I came by you were practicing alone and . . . It looked beautiful . . . so I started watching," she finished, voice trailing off softly so that the final lines were a mere whisper.

Ryoma absorbed her information with shock. She received a note too? Then . . . he sighed. It was all clear now. "Don't apologize," he ordered, "I got the bloody note too." Sakuno stopped shaking, but she still didn't have the courage to look up at him. Her heart still beat like the dickens, and she was sure her face resembled a tomato. "Those bastards," he muttered, then looked down at Sakuno, who stared at the ground nervously.

"Hey," he urged, knocking on her head, "Let me see your eye." Sakuno's jaw dropped in shock. If she looked him in the eye, she would surely blow up! But to refuse Ryoma . . .

She took a deep breath and looked up, meeting his gaze. He leaned forward, and she felt her face redden further, if that was possible. He stared at it intensely for a few seconds before leaning back. "It'll be gone by the end of the week," he said with satisfaction.

Sakuno nodded and mumbled something along the lines of 'That's good." They stood in an awkward silence before Sakuno took a shaky step back and, of course, tripped backwards over her bag.

Ryoma watched her fall and then hiss in pain. He flashbacked to this morning's stumble and couldn't help but tease her a bit - "Has there ever been a day in your life where you didn't trip over something?"

Sakuno, embarrassed, now looked up at him in confusion. But, not missing a beat, she smiled and nodded proudly. "May seventeenth of two thousand!" Ryoma stared at her for a moment before chuckling. Sakuno joined in, not because it was funny, but because she needed to ease her nerves.

He held out his hand to help her up. Sakuno looked at it before nervously holding out her hand. He pulled her up in a fluid motion, and, to his satisfaction, no strange electricity passed between them. He looked down to get her bag and noticed a photo album sticking out. Naturally, the curious cat reached down and grabbed it, much to Sakuno's horror.

He flipped through it, recognizing the setting as the last challenge match they had against Tokodai. His eyes widened as he neared the end of the album and had yet to see a picture of himself. He appeared in the group shots. The celebration pictures, the pep talks… it seemed the only thing left were the locker room shots (though he doubted she had the guts to do such a thing). So, she wasn't taking pictures of him . . He flipped back through, trying to see who had more shots. Perhaps Tsubasa? Or maybe Takki? Takuya seemed to get a few as well…

"You're good," he complimented, oddly stiff and formal. Sakuno bit her lip in confusion. Why did he sound so formal and strict? She looked at the album in his hand – the one of his teammates. She looked down and quickly debated about showing him is own album.

"Th-thank you," she murmured, and bent down to get the other album out. "Here's the one of you," she said, holding it out nervously.

She saw Ryoma's eyes widen slightly and quickly Tomo's joke of being a stalker echoed in her mind. She bit her lip, maybe she shouldn't have given him it after all. . . .

Ryoma's eyes widened as he looked through the album. It looked like she had taken a picture of every shot he did. And though a part of him recoiled in horror at the sight, another part felt proud that he warranted an entire album from her. He nodded in satisfaction and smirked, "Not bad. I'll be taking this, and I'll be sure to show my teammates the other one."

Sakuno's eyes widened. "You – you want to keep it," she squeaked, then blushed and cleared her throat, "I mean, you want it?"

Ryoma gave her an 'are you a moron' look, and nodded. "It is of me, after all," he explained, "And you did take it for us, didn't you?" Sakuno nodded, mind numb from the conversation. Ryoma could've asked her to jump of a cliff wearing a chicken suit and she would've agreed without a second thought. He looked down at her, "Were you planning on giving it to us at practice?"

"Ah," she yelped in embarrassment, "Y-you give it to them." Ryoma nodded and looked at his watch.

"Looks like practice is about to start. Are you taking pictures today?" Sakuno nodded, afraid of squeaking out another reply. Ryoma nodded and turned, smiling slightly. Teasing their little photographer was fun.

He looked at the album in his hand and his chest tightened again. He frowned; why was she getting this reaction from him? He had no feelings for her whatsoever. None. He neared the door and heard the clamor of men inside.

Ryoma opened the door, glaring, "Which one of you fucktards put that letter in my box?" Several immediately clammed up, but the ever joker Tsubasa smirked and stood.

"I did. Did you have fun wooing our photographer?"

Ryoma's voice was flat and unemotional, "You. Me. Courts. Now."

Sakuno watched in amazement as Ryoma proceeded to play with the same intensity as he had during his match for the spot to enter Nationals. Tsubasa could only dash around the court in vain trying to reach the balls . . . when he wasn't being pegged by them, of course.