Title: Frozen Tear
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.
Chapter: Three: Numbers
7 Days, 15 Hours, 26 minutes, 11 seconds since Ryoma Echizen set foot on Ryuuzaki Sakuno's life again after years of separation. But who's counting?
These numbers also indicate the duration wherein Ryoma attempts to talk to her or look her in the eyes at the least. Yet these digits indicate as well the length of Sakuno's little game—the "let's-pretend-Ryoma-does-not-exist" game. Oh joy.
It was a rare occurrence yet a welcomed surprise when Sakuno received a word from her brother about an invitation for dinner. It sounded pleasant and at the same time suspicious.
"What do you want?" were the first words she uttered upon meeting her brother.
The man only chuckles as he signaled her to sit down. "What blunt words to say, dear sister. Can't you just smile and have a meal with your brother once in a while?" he said in an amused tone.
"Oh, cut the crap. We both know you would not do something nice unless you gain something from it." She said in an uninterested fashion. "You wound me." Said he in mock hurt.
"But you are right." He added. "Am I always?" she butts in that earned an amused chuckle from the male. "You know, I still wonder what you did to my once cute little sister." He said which earned him a playful glare.
"Just go straight to the point, will you?" she said with a defeated sigh. "That I will do. Tomorrow night, there will be a party and I need you to be there to represent our family." He explained.
"Aren't you supposed to be attending those stuff?" she asked irritated. "Well, yes but, as you may not know, I have an important matter to attend to that same night." He said. "And by important matter you mean having a date with some random girl, right?" she mocks.
"Ah, you know me too well. But you missed something, she is not just some random girl." He vaguely explained. "Let me guess, it is a model, isn't?" she said. "An actress actually." He corrected.
With a dejected sigh Sakuno said, "Alright…but you owe me." "Fair enough." Said her brother and the night continued as they share a meal.
The party was probably the biggest one for the year and she wonders if her brother is really serious about the girl he is talking about, knowing that her brother is one for these kind of social gathering. "The bigger the party, the plenty the ladies." This is her brother's theory.
Familiar faces greeted her. Strangers offer her their names. Bachelors offered her a drink. It was a good night she thought in naivety. Oh dearest Sakuno, the night is young, so many people yet to meet, so many possibilities to happen. Possibilities of a ruined night like meeting your most dreaded person. And right on cue, Echizen Ryoma step foot on the ballroom.
His trained eye was programed to look at you, find you, Sakuno, even in the middle of mob of a hundred, of a thousand, of a million. He will always see you no matter if you prefer not to. It was his nature, his instinct.
He politely smiles though calculating as if he is afraid he will scare you off. He stood his ground—proud, dignified, and mighty. But you do not miss the desperateness, the tiredness, the loneliness in his beautiful eyes.
But you too hold your stand—independent, opinionated, strong. You try so hard to conceal the longing you so strongly feel for him. When will you learn?
And you both pretend. This is just sad.
So many men held you for the night, leading you across the dance floor, turning you around, swirling, spinning, twirling. At the end of the evening, you shared a dance will almost all of them but not him, never him. He is off limits, this you desperately attempts to convey in you thick skull. Yet in every turn, every sway, every spin you look at him, wanting to catch a glimpse of his eyes, his expressions, his thoughts and you failed miserably for he presented you with his back.
At last, you escaped the clutches of the dance floor and go straight into his table. Dignity and pride be dammed.
"I never pegged you to be an alcoholic." She can't help but comment as she eyes the glasses on his table. He glared to scare her off but it did not seemed legit as he is intoxicated.
"Did you have fun?" he vaguely said. His words almost slurred, his cheeks reddened due to alcohol. "What are you talking about?" she asked confused.
"You must had a great night, with all the attention you are getting." He said as his eyes narrowed in the glass he is holding. With a heavy sigh, she took the glass from his hand and said, "You are drunk."
"Am not." was his reply as he once again reaches for the glass. "Come on." She insisted as she helped him get on his wobbly legs. Ryoma was quiet the whole time as she maneuvered their way through the hall and into the parking lot.
When they reached the parking lot, Ryoma detangled himself from her and waddled his way to his car. He miserably attempted to use his car keys to unlock the door and cuss when he failed. "You cannot drive in this condition." She reminded him, her face etched with concern but Ryoma ignored her.
"Do you want me to call a cab?" she offered and she swears she heard him snort. What an egotistical jerk! "Go back to your flirting." He said as he again attempts to open the goddamn door.
"Excuse me?" she shrieked-scandalized, horrified. "Did all that dancing impaired you hearing, Sakuno?" he mocks her. And she curses herself for swooning when he said her name. "I was not flirting." She defended, eyes narrowed. "Ah, do they use a different term here in Japan?" He said provoking her.
"How dare you!" she exploded, cheeks red in anger. "I was being polite, friendly not flirting and what in the world is wrong with dancing at a party? Those people are my friends, my acquaintances, my family's friends. I was not doing anything inappropria- Oh fuck this! Why do I even have to explain this to you? This not your fucking business. I am not you fucking business." BAM! What a huge explosion but fret not, my friends, Ryoma is not one to be afraid of explosions.
With an inhuman speed and strength, he pinned her at the side of her can. Her body trapped against a cold metal contraption and an alive human body- a warm alive human body. She gasped, her cheeks burning, her eyes widen, her mouth agape.
His eyes bore in to her, drowning her into its depth. Faces inches, centimeters away from her own. So much for personal space. "You are my fucking business. I am concerned when it comes to you. I can worry when you are hurt, I can be angry when you act foolish, I can be happy when you are happy and I can fucking kick all those shameless bastards when they get closer to you than 50 meters radius. Am I clear?" he said in that serious tone. She should be scared, heck she should tell him off for he do not own her, not anymore. Yet she felt secured, protected…happy. For what? Happy that he cares. Again. But did he even stop in the first place?
A moment of silence passed them, no one moving a muscle, eyes drawn into each other. And then his face, oh good Lord, his face. His eyes dropped in that hazy state, his face lowering to her face, his lips slowly dipping into hers.
60 centimeters…
56…
Her cheeks reddening, bursting into a hundred shades of red.
53…
Her eyelids feel heavy, her eyes in haze, and her mind in frenzy.
43…
Oh God. Their breath mingles, their warmth accentuated, her fist tightened in his strong, muscular forearm.
36…
Her heart is overwhelmed with emotions. Breathing became labored. Lips anticipating.
27….
Closer... closer…
15...
But none came. No warm, soft lips. Anticipation, excitement, eagerness goes down the drain. Her first instinct was to bonk him in the head but decided to do otherwise as she saw his knocked out form.
He is drunk. Obviously, due to alcohol.
She is drunk. Possibly, because of him and the way he stirs her feelings.
With a dejected sigh and a heavy heart she got his keys and helped him through the passenger seat. Another sigh, then a longing look then she slapped herself, literally.
What the hell is she thinking? What is she feeling?
"They" do not exist. The "they" is part of the past. History. A memory. A happy memory yet a sad sad one too. There is just "he" and "she" now, never "they" not even a "we".
And it surprised her, terrifies her that she cares. She cares that what was once theirs was gone. That those days- the good ones are gone. A heavy feeling in her chest burst and tears start to trickle down her rosy cheeks.
She is hurting, dying, drowning but she cannot blame it to anyone. For she brought this predicament to herself. She has hurt herself by hurting him. And she is sorry, so so sorry. She apologizes to him over and over again in her heart, in her soul but it does not reach him. Because until now she cannot forgive herself.
And she satisfies herself in lamenting on her sins, on suffering alone and away from him, on being in pain. And she is selfish for being contented with punishing herself for hurting him, for breaking her own heart, her love. But she knows that these- her self-inflicted punishment- will never be enough. For she have hurt him and in the process have killed herself.
The engine roared to life and it soothed her, she don't know how much of this silence, this emptiness she can take with only his steady breathing audible in the confined space. As she maneuvered the vehicle outside and into the bustling roads and lights, she suddenly remembered she do not know his address. Oh damn her luck.
(Gasps)
She hungrily devoured the air into her lungs. Her chest heaved up and down in time with her labored breathing. That is one hell of a workout. She struggles yet managed to drag Ryoma into her bedroom and the man did not even much as make a sound. She even stopped for a minute to check if his heart is beating. She swears the man is pure muscle to weigh that much.
Trying to calm her breathing and relaxing her strained muscles, she sat down at the edge of the bed facing the man. And it was the first time in all those days that she allowed herself to indulge in his presence, his features, and his existence.
With her guard down, memories bombarded her mind, filling her up with the emotions she have longed thrown away but was etched in her heart, in her humanity. She remembered vividly the softness of that dark hair in her hands and she reach out her hands to touch him, to feel him. Her fingers traced pattern on his face as it reached his eyebrows and she remembered how he arched them when confused or mocking, and narrowed when upset, a cringe visible in the middle. His aristocratic nose, his soft and oh so warm lips, his defined jawline. Lost in her reverie, she bends down in an almost familiar fashion, lips aligned with his. A little move and she will be able to reach him, to reach his heart.
But Sakuno is a coward. No, you are only going to hurt him. She thought, reminding herself. But you already did, didn't you? No need to further the damage. She is a delusional selfish coward. Oh, the sadness.
Why can't you see? He is dying, drowning without you in his life.
I don't deserve him.
If you don't then who does?
She hastily makes an exit that she failed to see him open his eyes- those saddened, suffering eyes.
Morning came sooner that she would have liked. She made a bee line to her kitchen and was stunned to see someone made coffee. Her first instinct was to panic that someone break in her house but then she remembered last night. And all memories came back. "Oh shit." Was all she could say as she reached her bedroom but found no one inside. She came running back into the kitchen and found a piece of paper in the table.
She almost had a heart attack.
The note says:
I never pegged you to be a pervert who molest sleeping innocent people.
She snorts at the word innocent.
End of Chapter.
