A/N: Hello, michiru-chan here again! I'm kinda disappointed with this chappie...but please don't say it to my face (cries on Atobe's shoulder while smirking triumphantly that she gets to cry on ATOBE. Atobe gets creeped out.)... No matter how much it sucks, will some of you still review? Please? (blows nose into Atobe's shirt leaving him disgusted). Gehh...oh yeah, I heard a quote that's really coool.
"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. And today? Today is a gift. That's why we call it the present."
-Babatunde Olatunji
Isn't it cooool? Anyways, I'm kinda sick with a cold but yeah...please review!!! Even if it sux...
Disclaimer: I do not own POT.
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"Ah! You!"
This time, eyes flew over to Shia, who gaped with an accusing finger pointed at the boy genius.
"Aikawa. You know the brat?"
Ryoma's smirk was intact-he liked leaving the 'high and mighty' Monkey King baffled. It was so fun; really. He wondered if the Hyotei captain knew that Ryoma always remembered to call him Monkey King just for the sake of seeing his dignified face pissed. Ryoma sometimes didn't understand why others didn't try it, too. They always shook their heads at him asking if he knew how much power Atobe had. Pfft.
Shia nodded.
"He's the guy who nearly got killed for beating someone in tennis."
"Hey, brat! Don't get too cocky!"
A boy with a medium build glared angrily at Ryoma, who merely smirked back at him. The larger boy's grip around his racket tightened, and his fingertips turned white as the blood rushed upwards into the upper parts of the fingers.
Sweat dripped onto Hyotei's courts-how Ryoma had ended up accepting a challenge from one of Hyotei's tennis club members didn't matter anymore. The fool had sauntered over when he was walking by, and that was that.
"Why not? I beat you."
Ryoma silently laughed. It was so much fun getting others angry and caught off guard! He couldn't help it-he was, after all, Echizen Nanjiroh' s son. Blood doesn't lie, you know.
"Why you!"
Ryoma's eyes remained calm as he calculated the distance between him and the boy's now swinging fist; it wouldn't reach him. Che. How could a guy who can't even calculate if his punch would come in contact with the target or not believe that he could challenge the tennis prodigy, Echizen Ryoma? Amusing, isn't it?
"Stop it!"
A figure had stepped in between the boy's incoming fist and Ryoma's face, and the punch stopped inches away from the girl's face. Ryoma rolled his eyes. Was this another person aiming at playing 'hero' and getting hurt for unnecessary reasons? Those were the most annoying people...he had to feel guilty if they got hurt, and it wouldn't even have been his fault! Sheesh...this world was too full of hero wannabes.
"Who're you?"
The girl hesitated, and Ryoma raised an eyebrow.
"I'm...his sister! Ja!"
Ryoma's jaw hit the ground with a sound 'pop' when he heard the blatant lie. What was she thinking?!
Grabbing Ryoma roughly by the wrist, the girl fled the courts with Ryoma in tow.
-
Several huffs were breathed to steady the girl's heart. Sweat drenched the back of the girl's whit uniform blouse, the light material sticking to her skin. The sun blared above; a bird flew by, letting a feather loose. The girl was careful not to touch the bench behind her that was heated by the sun's rays.
Ryoma looked on impassively.
"Hey! You could have seriously gotten hurt, you know that?!" the girl jabbed a finger at Ryoma's chest. Personally, Ryoma thought of this as offending. Fingers hurt-sheesh.
"So? I could have called the police."
"Idiot!"
The girl slapped Ryoma on the head once, and Ryoma glared. Nobody's hit him since Ryoga did-beside his pervert of a father, that is. And besides, who wants to be compared to a skirt-chasing monk?
"What was that for?!"
"For being such a fool. Now go on home-they might come after you."
Ryoma shrugged. It wasn't like he was afraid of them. Why did he need to escape?
"Not a big deal."
He recieved another thwack on the head.
"Listen up, you little prat-go. Home. I don't want to see you in a bloody pulp the next morning. Now move it!"
The girl pushed Ryoma forward with her hands.
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine! Now move it!"
With a final shove, the girl turned around and began walking away.
"What's your name?"
Ryoma didn't really care but asked out of courtesy.
Glancing back, the girl grinned.
"Aikawa Shia. Ja ne, tennis boy-kun!"
Ryoma sniffed. 'Tennis boy-kun?' Lame. It should have been tennis-prodigy-kun. Way more fitting.
Momo and Eiji began to chortle, and Oishi coughed back a laugh.
"Che."
Ryoma filled his cheeks with air, and looked the other way. He really didn't like it when people laughed at him-he was the Prince of Tennis for Pete's sake!
Atobe rolled his eyes-how like the brat.
"In any case, Ore-sama tires of this useless chat. Let's get to the tennis."
Murmurs of agreement rose, and bidding the Seigaku team good luck, Shia over to the side where the Hyotei regulars stood. From Seigaku's side, Oishi and Eiji stepped up to the courts, one grinning widely, the other, smiling at the former's antics.
"Shishido. Ootori."
The two players nodded, understanding their captain.
The strode into the courts.
Seated in the umpire's seat, Kawamura called out, "Oishi Eiji pair vs. Shishido Ootori pair. Oishi Eiji pair to serve!"
Bouncing the ball, Oishi served normally into the other court, and Shishido slammed it back, thus, starting a rally.
Meanwhile, Shia leaned back.
"I thought tennis was fun."
Gakuto looked at her.
"It is."
Shia looked up confusedly.
"They're just hitting balls with sticks. What's so special?"
"Have you ever played tennis?" Oshitari asked.
Shia looked away absentmindedly, eyes faking innocence. Her grip on the sides of her pants grew tighter, and her face looked more tight.
"Um...a little bit." Shia signified it by pinching her fingers together. "A long, long time ago."
As the conversation went on, Jiroh slowly awoke, blinking rapidly. He let out a yawn and stretched his arms as he slowly rose to his feet. He took the jersey he was using as a pillow and clumsily put it on, turning to the direction where Shia and Gakuto sat.
Upon seeing Shia, he gaped.
"Waaahhh! Ne ne, you're Aikawa Shia, right?!"
Shia blinked, turning around to face Jiroh. She cocked her head to one side, letting her hands fall to her sides.
"Y-yes...you know me?"
Gakuto snorted.
"EVERYBODY knows you."
Shia seemed genuinly surprised.
"They...they do?"
"No duh. You're one of the three 'forbidden maidens.'"
Shia's eyes grew wide.
"H-hah?"
"'The world hath no fury like an angry female friend.'"
The cryptic recitation from Oshitari only got Shia more confused.
"You'd be pretty popular at our school if it weren't for the unsaid law you know," Jiroh said in an almost matter-of-factly manner. "You're a ballerina after all. Haven't you noticed that all the ballerinas at our school are the most popular?"
"I still don't get it."
Oshitari looked as if was holding back a laugh-which offended Shia to a certain point. It was already degrading enough that he was a genius and she wasn't, and then to have such a 'tensai' laugh at her...it made her feel like an idiot. Which she was not. Idiots are not permitted into the high-class Hyotei Gakuen.
Jiroh grinned widely and Gakuto rolled his eyes.
"Okay. Lets put it this way. Who's your best friend?" Gakuto asked, speaking slowly. Ugh-he really hated this.
"Chiako-chan."
"And your 'Chiako-chan' is known as one of the three 'protectors.' As in, a female best friend who will beat the pulp out of any male if they even so far as hand her friend the wrong color of roses."
Shia's eyes grew as wide as platters.
"Chiako-chan? Oh no!"
Gakuto nodded knowingly. How sad the girl must feel-not to mention betrayed.
"And that is why no guy ever asks you out-"
"She might get hurt!"
Shia received flat looks and gapes-the reason why, she didn't understand.
At this moment, a miracle happened; the same thought flew over all three of the regulars' heads.
'Now I understand why she's a forbidden maiden.'
"Oishi-Eiji pair! Six games to five!"
Pulling her attention away from the three third years, Shia turned to look at the two sweating players as they came back. Shishido and Choutarou both had a large grin plastered on their faces.
Shia didn't get it; they had lost, so why did they look so happy?
She knew for a fact that Shishido was not what you'd call a smiling ball of sunshine.
Choutarou, she didn't really know so she couldn't say.
When they came and sat next to her on the bench, Shia turned to face them.
"Hey."
Shishido stopped in the process of taking a sip from his water bottle, raising an eyebrow.
Choutarou politely placed his towel down neatly on his lap and smiled.
"What?"
"Hai, Aikawa-senpai?"
Shia bit her bottom lip, unsure of whether it would be safe to ask the question.
"Why...why are you...so happy?"
Shishido wrinkled his nose.
"Hah?"
The hell? What was with this girl?
Atobe had said that he'd invited her to watch the match because they had to work on a project afterwards, but...
Well then again, today was a Saturday so the two could stay up late and work on the project-wait! That wasn't the point here!
Choutarou merely smiled in response.
"Well, we got a good game, senpai."
Shia wrinkled her brows together.
These guys were too weird. She'd known them since elementary school-since most Hyotei students went to Shibuya Elementary seeing as they were sister schools (A/N: not really but go along with me on this please!)-and they'd always either talked about tennis, thought about tennis, or studied about tennis.
Shia remembered that on Valentine's Day they wouldn't accept chocolate unless it was in the shape of tennis balls.
Or that one time where one of them rejected the cutest girl in school because she didn't know what a top spin was.
Or that other time they argued with the math teacher when they were learning rates using a tennis ball as an example and the teacher had said that 'if it dropped at this rate, it would be impossible for it would be underneath the ground,' and they had recently seen an incredible smash that had left the ball a few centimeters below regular ground level.
Or that time where-
"Ah! Its raining!"
Jiroh's voice snapped Shia out of her reverie, and she looked up, and felt cold drops pelting against her face.
She sighed. Of course; when she'd finally gotten the chance to talk to the regulars, something would rain in on her. Literally.
"Aikawa-get over here now. Ore-sama tires of waiting!"
Atobe frowned from inside his limousine, where the rest of the regulars were already sitting. After all, Atobe was a gentleman and gentlemen didn't allow ladies to run home in the rain even if they had a car waiting for them.
Looking down from her gaze at the grey sky, she nodded and hurried into the car without thinking of possible consequences. Like losing her pride.
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"Purple?"
Shia gawked at the furniture.
Purple curtains, purple lamp shades, purple bed sheets-even a purple tinted window!
When Atobe had said that they'd be going into his room, she'd expected something a bit more...masculine. Like cobalt blue, or sea blue, or black and white, or maybe something mature, like beige?
But not purple. Purple! Of all things-ick!
"Purple is the color of royalty-which matches Ore-sama perfectly."
Uh-huh. Right.
"What part of royalty? The ancient part or the greedy part?"
'Wow Shia. Way to go girl! That's it! Show him that you're strong!'
Shia nodded inwardly. She was so over Atobe Keigo. And she knew how to show him that, too.
Atobe glared at her while the other regulars burst into laughter.
"You're lucky you're Ore-sama's partner, otherwise, Ore-sama would've had you butchered and fried already!" Atobe hissed.
"Oh, you know what a 'vulgar' word like 'butchered' means? Amazing!"
Shia clapped in mockery.
Gakuto guffawed, and Shishido clapped Shia's back.
"Diss!" Jiroh chortled, having awakened by earlier's laughter.
Upon observing that Atobe was about to explode and would tear Shia apart-literally-like a jealous ex-girlfriend of some sort, Oshitari cleverly intervened.
"Now now. Atobe, didn't you say that your indoor courts were remodeled?"
Instantly reverting back to his usual smug expression, Atobe turned to face Oshitari.
"Of course. It is now complete with a large flat screen TV to observe Ore-sama's prowess during the match."
Shia made a gagging motion behind Atobe's back, and everyone had to hold in their laughter. It wouldn't do for Atobe to find out...it could-no, would-get ugly. Very ugly indeed.
"Well-" a small chuckle, "why don't we get going?" Oshitari steered everyone out, winking at Shia.
"Senpai, aren't you coming?" Choutarou asked politely as he stopped at the doorframe.
"No thanks. I'll just stay here until the rain stops. But thanks anyways."
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By the time the regulars had finished tennis and had gotten dressed, night had already fallen, the digital clocks blinking a flashing '10:00' on their faces. Grey clouds floated outside the windows, swimming amongst twinkling bouts of light.
But all of that was ignored as a group of boys made their way towards a particular room, where a girl lay sleeping.
Jiroh's hand was still on the crystal doorknob when he saw Shia nodding off, leaned against Atobe's bed. The rest soon filed in, and then began the 'let's-stare-at-the-sleeping-girl-who's-supposed-to-be-home' game.
"She's sleeping," Jiroh stated.
"No duh, Sherlock," Gakuto shot back.
"Sheesh, what's your problem today?" Shishido nudged him in the stomache.
"Don't touch me-I might get your 'idiocy germs.'"
"What'd you say?!"
"I said what I said. Don't tell me you've gone deaf, too-"
"Enough, you two." Oshitari intervened by stepping between the two third years, sighing. Do you not understand the concept of teamwork? We're on the same tennis team, for Pete's sake," he chided.
The two turned up their noses with a sniff.
"Like I care."
"Whatever."
Inwardly rolling his eyes, Oshitari let his attention drift to the girl who lay sleeping, head propped against the bed.
"Didn't she say that she'd leave when the rain stopped?" Hiyoshi grumbled.
"She must've fallen asleep while waiting," Choutarou added.
"Ore-sama shall wake her-"
"Absolutely not. You will let the lady sleep-Keigo, put her in the guest room next to yours."
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Blink.
Blink.
Blink blink.
Blink blink blink.
'Where...am I?'
Sunlight filtered through the slightly ajar curtains, causing Shia to raise her arm to shield her eyes. The sunlight hit the satin sheets that kept her warm, illuminating the soft blue colour. Shia's ash blonde hair seemed to glow in the morning sun, and her skin had an ivory touch.
She noticed satin sleeves on her arm.
'That's weird...my pajamas don't have sleeves-ohgodohgodohgod. I'm in Atobe Keigo's house.'
Shia realized with a jolt when all of her memories of the previous day came back to her.
Air rushed out of Shia as she realized her current predicament. The blue silk sheets only proved her thesis-her own bed sheets were a light pink!
'What happened last night? Why aren't I home? Don't tell me...I...I actually fell asleep...? Ohhh...goddammit!!!'
On the verge of tears at her loss of pride, Shia was about to raise her hands to her face when a timid knock on the door was heard.
Whipping her head around in alarm, she called out, "Y-yes?"
The door opened a fraction, and a slightly disgruntled maid stepped in. She looked to be around fifteen, sixteen, and extremely pretty. Long, silky blonde hair was put in an elegant updo twist, and her bright red-polished nails nearly digged into her maid outfit, the skirt being shorter than most. Shia suspected that the girl had pulled it up.
"Atobe-sama requested you get dressed and come down for breakfast," the girl sniffed. She seemed displeased in Shia's presence.
"Th-thank you...?"
Shia was unnerved. She was an heiress to a wealthy company and this girl was a maid! And she was being stared down by a mere employee?! Shia didn't know whether to feel angered at the girl's nerve, or depressed at her own image that apparently wasn't impressing enough.
The maid began to walk back out, but just before her body was out, she stopped in the doorway.
"Oh, and by the way? I can't believe a slut like you got to sleep in Atobe-sama's residence. Don't ever touch him again-he's off limits."
The oak door snapped shut with a 'clink!' and Shia gaped after it.
Slut?
Off limits?
What was this?!?!
Shakily sliding off the bed, Shia shivered slightly when her bare feet touched the cold marble floor. She moved her head around in frantic, quick movements like a timid mouse in a new house. Upon finding an ornate wardrobe off to the side, she shuffled over and took a hold of the wooden knob.
When she pulled it open, she found herself amazed when it was full of outfits and accessories-even matching shoes lined the floor of the closet.
Shia fingered each article before sliding it to the side.
Her eyes brightened when she found a perfect outfit; a light pink one piece dress with a matching white cardigan.
Finding an outfit was one thing, but...taking and wearing it? A totally different matter. She'd be consenting and saying 'fine, I lost!' to Atobe the minute she took it out of the rack.
Then again, the maid had said 'Atobe-sama,' meaning that it could be Atobe's father...in that case, she had to accept his hospitality and take the dress, not to mention that she had to look presentable.
It was a fifty fifty chance...which was it?!
Weighing the chances, Shia decided that it would be better to just take the outfit. She could always dry clean and return it afterwards anyways...right?
Shia gently dropped the pink satin slippers and outfit on the bed before walking into the bathroom located near the wardrobe.
She stared for a moment, allowing her eyes to trail over the elegant lavatory. The walls were made out of a smooth, beige and white colored marble, the sinks were pure black, sparkling underneath the perfect lights. The faucets were a stain-free silver, the faucet knobs made of crystal.
Shia hesitated a bit before turning on the water and splashing the icy water on her face.
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The large doors opened a fraction and a head peeked out.
A few delicate strands of hair was wound in a delicate ribbon, and the rest shook free.
A hand grasped the edge of the door tightly.
A look to the right.
A look to the left.
Again to the right.
Safe.
Hurriedly slipping out into the second floor hallway, Shia made a head-run towards the spiraling staircase. She slid her hands down the white-washed banister, skipping down two steps each.
Before she inevitably crashed, head first...into a pair of strong, steady arms.
'Eh?'
Shia blinked a couple of times before raising her head.
She found herself staring into silvery-blue orbs. A smirk emphasized the amused look, and a defined mole dotted the face.
"Oh? What now? Trying to seduce Ore-sama?" A deep, velvety voice teased.
Shia felt her face heat up, and she pushed Atobe away.
"No! Besides, why would I want to seduce a guy who falls in love every time he sees a mirror?!"
Shia was blushing furiously now, her face glaring angrily at the floor below. Why was she always in the embarrasing position?! Was it because of her nature? Or was it sheer luck and coincidence? Or was it...because she lov-no! She didn't like him.
Not at all.
The girl's head snapped up when she heard laughter, and her eyes grew large as she saw Atobe laughing at her.
He had a hand covering his hand, and he was slightly bent over.
Blushing even more, Shia hissed, "What?!"
Atobe finally ceased, and smirked.
"What a funny little doll," he mused, leaning in towards Shia.
The minute he did, Shia's head began to grow lighter. She felt herself drifting upwards...up, up, up...towards the clouds...
Shaking her head, Shia fought the feeling.
"Get away from me," she growled, pushing Atobe away.
Atobe raised his eyebrow.
"Whatever. Ore-sama was sent to fetch you-you should be honored that Ore-sama took time to come get you."
Shia's eyes widened. Had Atobe Keigo-the Atobe Keigo really come to get her?
"Why?"
"You can't find your way to the dining room, can you?"
Shia froze for a moment. Actually, she could. She'd had a map of the Atobe household for when the council members would come over and she'd take a tiny peek into Atobe's room-not in perverted way, of course!
"N-no..."
"Then come on. Ore-sama is an extremely busy person."
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A/N: Hello again...I just love the author's note area. I think I enjoy writing author's notes more than the actual story sometimes, 'specially with this chapter. I don't know-I just ran out of gas and was cranking out the words...uh-oh spaghettio..haha...well please review. Atobe and I love them!
"oi, idiotic commoner. How dare you group yourself with Ore-sama?!"
And there's Atobe screaming at me...haaaa...bibi...
