""-speech

''-thoughts

The Name: Sakuraba

The Sentence: "You have PMS: Pretty Man Syndrome." (Man, I laughed so hard when my little sister drew this one for Sakuraba, it works.)

Sakuraba had, admittedly, gotten fairly used to the 'pet names' various fangirls had given him, but when he saw a notice on one of the school bulletin boards announcing the first ever Sakuraba Fan Club meeting he noticed something that managed to send chills down his spine.

And we can all discuss Sakuraba's PMS: Pretty Man Syndrome.

Couldn't they draw a line somewhere, didn't some fangirl somewhere think it was going to far to give him this 'syndrome' with the same initials that represented, well, you know...

It was a couple of days later that he strayed onto the field during a game to pick up his sticker, which was, admittedly, a bad move. But at least all the time alone in his hospital room where his fangirls couldn't reach him gave him time to think.

He wasn't that pretty, was he? Sure he wasn't really muscular or manly, but it wasn't as if he could pass for a girl. Couldn't they just think of him as handsome, or some other term that was meant to describe a male? It's not like he could ask any of his teammates for their honest opinion either, Shin probably wouldn't understand the question completely, Takami would try and answer the question in a roundabout way that would never really reveal anything and Otawara would probably get lost in thought about what the right answer was.

But opportunity came knocking a while after he was hospitalized. After his teammates and fangirls barged in and left, followed by the pair of reporters he saw his chance.

The secretary of the Deimon Devil Bats would have no reason to lie to him, right? So he quickly took the secretary's hand in his and brought him close, looking earnestly into the other boy's big brown eyes.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" "Ex-Excuse me?" "I'm not pretty right? I have nice hair and eyes and stuff, but that doesn't mean I'm pretty, right?" "Uhhh..." Sakuraba let go of the secretary's hands and laid back on his bed, staring up at the hospital ceiling with a frown and ignoring the strange looks he was receiving from the three other occupants in the room.

"Dammit, I hate PMS." "What?!"