A/N: Wow, it's been a long time since I last touched on fanfiction. Looking back on my writings as an overly imaginative kid, I can't help but wonder about my writing. I pretty much stopped creative writing once I stopped doing fanfiction because I never had time for it anymore. Well, here I am again at the website that used to be my younger self's home on the internet. The funny part is that no matter how long I leave this place, review e-mails just keep piling up on me, reminding me that there are probably some people who are waiting for me to finish my stories. So I guess I'm here again as a sixteen year-old this time to finish what my fourteen year-old self started.

What have I been up to all this time? Literate roleplaying on the boards of Gaia Online. Let's hope I've improved.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Echizen?" echoed the maitre d' while lightly running a tapered finger along a list of scrawled surnames. "Hm."

Sakuno's eyes drifted across the restaurant. A delicious scent wafted from the kitchens, and the warmth was certainly more welcoming than the biting cold outside. She glanced at Ryoma as he looked on impassively at the maitre d' who was now mumbling and trying to fish out "Echizen" from the never-ending list of reservations. His eyes were always a deep amber colour that seemed to draw her in. She often found herself incapable of holding his powerful stare for more than a quick moment, but now that he wasn't facing her, she had all the time to carefully observe the face of the boy who had long ago captured her heart.

"What is it?" he said, feeling her gaze on his face. Ryoma turned to face Sakuno who was hanging loosely onto his arm. "Something bothering you?"

A delightful shade of red quickly blossomed on her face. She immediately dropped her gaze to the ground, flushing.

"It's nothing," she said shyly, looking up again quickly with her chocolate eyes. She cleared her throat nervously and gave a quick smile before turning away once more.

Ryoma could only feel heat rushing up to his face, but he only smiled to himself, knowing that Sakuno would not be able to see him.

"Hrmmph," uttered the tight-lipped maitre d', unsure if he was disturbing something. "Ah, yes. Here's Echizen. I'm sorry for the wait. Right this way to your table."

The maitre d' gracefully pulled out two menus and proceeded to walk down towards a table, pulling out a chair for Sakuno. The couple was seated promptly.

"Asuma here will be serving you tonight," said the maitre d', motioning over a slim young man that was not much older than Ryoma. "If there's anything else that you need, please feel free to let me know."

- - - - - - - - - -

"Kinda short for his age, right?" said a certain dark-haired waiter excitedly. "Black hair? Cat-like eyes?"

Asuma nodded, grinning ear to ear.

"He's got a girlfriend here too," added Asuma carefully, enjoying the ecstatic look on the other waiter's face. Odd, how happy this little detail seemed to make him. "Cute little thing. Brown hair, brown eyes. Do you happen to know these people or something, Momoshiro? Eh… – Aah!"

Asuma quickly stepped back, trying to avoid the other waiter's wild gesticulations.

"Echizen!" cried Momoshiro, tears flowing generously down his cheeks. "You have grown! A girlfriend? A date? Our little ochibi is growing up so fast!"

- - - - - - - - -

"Here we are," said Asuma smoothly, presenting two drinks before Ryoma and Sakuno. "One Shirley Temple for the lady, and a…Ponta for the gentleman. I'll be back with your appetizers shortly."

With that, Asuma briskly glided away like an elegant magician. Once he was gone, Sakuno gave a glance at Ryoma, catching his gaze. She gave a quiet giggle, almost embarrassed.

"What?" said Ryoma, ever puzzled at the girl's actions.

"A-ah. Sorry," she said, trying not to smile. "It's just that you're still drinking Ponta. I would have thought that you would have started drinking something else, having been in the U.S. for so long."

"Oh," said Ryoma, faltering.

I must be boring him to death, thought Sakuno, near tears as she stared into her crimson drink. This is completely hopeless. I'm such a bland person. By now, he must be wondering why he even wastes his time talking to me. I'm so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

An uncomfortable silence loomed over the two. Sakuno remained unusually intent on staring into her drink as though in hopes of being able to see into the future. Sensing her discomfort, Ryoma coughed and piped up once more.

"Ponta was probably one of the things I missed the most from Japan, I guess," he spoke softly, looking at her in hopes that she would raise her eyes and look back at him. "Among many other things…"

The prince pinched his lips together and looked away, pretending to be extremely interested in the slow chewing of a withered old man sitting across the room. He was never very good at expressing himself or even getting others to like him. It had just always come so naturally to him. He never needed to try, and he had plenty of girls that would swoon at the chance to be with him, but the only one that he wanted was the only one that he always felt that he disappointed.

What is there to say?, he mused while glancing back quickly at the brown-haired girl seated directly across from him. The candle's flame flickered slightly, casting a warm glow on the girl. Candle light certainly becomes her but, then again, so does everything. What does she want me to say anyways? Girls are so difficult.

More silence. Appetizers came and went without a single word leaving their lips.

- - - - - - - - -

Nearby, concealed within the potted plants that lined the walls, Momoshiro was seething with anger.

"Wh-wh-what is this?" he said, indicating madly at table number fourteen. "They aren't even looking at each other! Look at that! Look! How can he treat a girl like that? He's not even saying anything to her, and she looks like she's just about to cry. What is wrong with that kid? Didn't I teach him anything the first time he went out on a date with her? Goddamn!"

"Calm down, Momo," said Asuma, peering out from the bushes with his loud-mouthed friends. "You want to lose your job? Hmm, looks to me like they're doing perfectly fine."

"Fine?" said Momo, near hysterics. "You call that fine? They've barely even open their mouths to talk to each other. They're having more interaction with their food than with each other."

"Sure," drawled on Asuma in a completely bored voice. "I don't understand why you're so interested in those two. Well, maybe all they need is a little bit of an...inciting force, let us say."

"Asuma, you're a genius!" let out Momoshiro suddenly, grabbing the horrified waiter by the collar. A few annoyed patrons looked up, miffed at the ruckus that Momo was creating.

"Leggo!" hissed Asuma, trying to wrench himself from Momoshiro's death-like grip. "What the hell do you mean 'genius'? And what the hell has gotten into you? I can't talk now. Table seventeen needs more ice water. Let go!"

"Asuma, I need a favour," coaxed Momo with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Surely a handsome student actor with such great skills like yourself would have no problem with this simple little task."

"Oh?" said Asuma, immediately relaxing and obviously intrigued. "And what is this simple little task?"

- - - - - - - - -

"And here I am with your main courses," said Asuma, quickly whisking away the dishes from the table. "Mmhm, here's a sirloin for the gentleman, and a spaghetti for the lady."

Sakuno gazed at the checkered red and white tablecloth, picking nervously at her napkin. Ryoma still hadn't said a word since they had been seated. Was her Ponta comment really that out of line? Ryoma, in turn, was completely baffled by Sakuno, unsure of what to say and unwilling to try anything that could embarrass him.

"Let me help you with that, Miss," said Asuma seductively, draping a napkin around her shoulders. He seemed so unnecessarily close that it seemed more as though he was embracing her from behind. Sakuno let out a quick gasp and raised her head up when she felt his touch against her bare shoulders, catching Ryoma's shocked and then displeased look. Pink swept over her face.

"A-anou…" she said uncomfortably at the waiter's questionable motives.

"Oh, I see. On the lap, then?" whispered Asuma close to her ear, moving down and leaving the napkin there, lightly brushing against her arm. A smirk graced his lips. "Is that better, my dear?"

Ryoma was now clearly scowling and entertaining ideas of how much pretty-boy Asuma would be smirking after being run through by a hundred knives. If he had caught Asuma's "score!" motion as the waiter walked away, there would have been steam coming out of his ears and fire coming out of his nostrils.

That waiter, he told himself while his angry stare bore into the back of the waiter who was now walking away. That waiter is a dead man.