Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis
OoooooooooooolOoooooooooooOooooooo
He was 9 the day he first met her. She was 7, and loved to dance. She moved with all the grace of a newborn lamb, but he couldnt help the smile across his face when the wind kicked in blowing the leaves around her small frame, and the sun bounced off her burnette hair igniting her whole being red as if she where one of those woodfires he and his grandfather would sit around during their camping trips.
At ten he had become good friends with her. The kind that would build forts out of the extra blankets in the linen closet and old christmas lights. And the kind that shared secrets.
The day he turned 12 she gave him a special hankerchief for his glasses that he would carry everywhere. It was the color of a great oak tree and had his name embroidered neatly on the lower left side corner. He would keep that hankerchief with him always. Even on his death bed.
Somewhere between 13 and 14 he kissed her. A chaste, little, barely there kiss that made her smile as she leaned in for another one. From that day on, the kisses never stopped. And no one ever knew. So when she asked if she could attend seishun gauken for junior high, which was on the other side of the city, her grandmother never suspected a boy was the reason much less the boy she took under her wing. Let's just say the old woman really should have suspected SOMETHING.
Because at 14 is when their story truly began.