The plastic wrapping paper was cool and slippery in his coat pocket.

The nerves didn't help – his palm felt rubbery with sweat and it was like dipping into a pool of spring water each time his hand reached in to make sure the present was still there. Yet he wanted to forget its presence so badly – almost to the point of dropping it into the gutter, pretending there was a hole in his pocket, and go straight back home.

So yes - he still didn't know how to give it to her.

For the millionth time that night he reminded himself what an idiot he was. Perhaps those girls who had gathered up all their courage and given him Valentine chocolates were not so useless after all – although that's probably because they actually wanted to give those presents.

His golden eyes drifted over to the bag in Sakuno's hand, and fell onto the yellow petals poking out from the opening like a curious child with a honey-coloured bonnet. The wrapping paper rustled slightly as Ryoma's fist tightened in his pocket.

He was never meant to see that scene. Her blushing at the rose, that boy appearing out of nowhere – with his white blouse still dotted with dried blood which he had bravely spilled while saving her life, the two of them laughing over the note he had written for her, and the kiss… Ryoma cringed.

It was just the shock – yes, that's it – the shock of seeing her boldness – which he thought she had a severe lack of. So different was she from her usual shy, reserved self that he couldn't quite adjust to the idea, that's all. Oh, and the discovery of the rumour that girls like roses (which he had always had trouble believing) being true was also a shock – although the reason behind it still puzzled him (why can't it be other flowers? Irises? Tulips?). Well, these explain the tingly and somewhat foreign sensation in his chest anyway – obviously the impact from the double-degree shock…

"…ma-kun? Ryoma-kun??"

Ryoma gave a start. To his relief, his train of thought was interrupted by a gentle tug on his sleeve. He turned around and met a pair of sparkling hazel eyes.

" Look! It's a coffee cart!"

His gaze followed the direction of her finger and paused on a small stall across the road from where they were standing. Apart from the fact that it was slightly decorated with fake snow and a small neon sign flashing the long-irrelevant green words "Merry Christmas", to him it was really nothing out of the ordinary.

"...Oh it is so adorable… although it must be a hassle moving around the city so often."

Ryoma gave a dry laugh and turned back to the girl in disbelief. "You haven't seen one of those before?"

She stared back, blankly. "No."

He searched her face for any suggestion of a lie. There were none. A heavy sigh escaped his lips.

"…They don't move around the city, they stay in one place. Otherwise how would its customers know where to find it?"

Her eyes widened and an impressed smile broke over her face.

"Oh… I see."

"…Thought you'd know that by now," He smirked. "-having been in Tokyo twelve years longer than me and working in the same industry as them."

"…Sorry." Her rosy cheeks – flushed from the instant of excitement – reddened even more, and her head lowered an inch. A lock of auburn hair dangled across her eyes and hid the glisten of moisture within. There was a long pause.

It almost felt like they were four years younger – her getting upset over something he said, without him realizing exactly what he had said. Almost – but not quite; for he was feeling an irritating prickle of guilt which had not been there four years ago.

Again he sighed – he seemed to be doing that a lot recently. It really killed him every time – knowing that his usual confidence which won the heart of so many girls on a tennis court did the exact opposite when he used it on them – well, not that he cared or anything.

"…Do you want one?"

"…Eh?"

"Coffee."

"Oh." Surprised, her lips twisted into a hesitant smile. "Is that okay?"

He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Otherwise I wouldn't be asking."

The cart was small, but relatively well-presented. With a classic design which set the stall apart from the surrounding office buildings, its outer walls gleamed with a fresh coat of blue paint – which contrasted with the interior walls of rosy chestnut. The front booth protruding out from the window of the cart was shaded by a green roof which was partially draped with faerie lights and partially adorned with dangling Christmas tree ornaments. The tiny miniatures of angels and reindeers trembled slightly in the wind as Ryoma and Sakuno approached the booth and studied the list scribbled onto the black board nailed beside the window.

"Aww, I was hoping to get a hot chocolate…" The girl looked at the list of coffee names disappointedly, but soon recovered her smile as she settled for another drink. "Guess I'll get a Moccachino then – that's half chocolate anyway. How about you, Ryoma-kun?"

"I'm not really a coffee person," He replied coldly.

She hesitated. "But there is only coffee here-"

"In other words, I'm not getting anything."

"Oh." Somehow, he thought she seemed even more disappointed than before.

He watched as she stepped up to the window and made her order, as she fumbled in her bag for her wallet, as she groped in the bag some more and smiled apologetically at the old man, and as she began to place the contents of her bag on the booth one by one…

Oh God, don't tell me…

Ryoma slapped his forehead in disbelief. He should have seen this coming.

Fishing out a couple of crumpled notes, he dropped them onto the booth with as charming a smile as he could manage. The old man, who was starting to scowl at the panicking girl in front of the window, relaxed immediately and hurriedly ducked behind the coffee-making machines with the cash, as if he was afraid that the money would vanish into thin air.

Ryoma slowly turned towards Sakuno, who was obviously avoiding his eyes and pretending to be still busily sorting through her belongings. He sighed, and his sharp eyes caught her flinch – almost as if she was waiting for him to say something nastier than usual. She knew him well – for that was exactly what he would have done had he not been overcame by a strange urge to laugh.

Yes, to laugh.

Despite his massive effort to hold it back, he failed miserably and the string of laughter burst out as a sort of loud snort. Although after clapping his hand over his mouth, he did, just, manage to disguise it as a violent coughing fit as the teary-eyed girl finally turned towards him in mild suspicion.

This has seriously never happened to him before. Never in his life did he expect that he would even need to fight so hard to bite back a bubbling spring of laughter in his throat. And never in his life did he know that laughter could be so difficult to suppress – his lungs were practically exploding with excited air molecules tickling the inside of his chest for a hearty release. Echizen Ryoma was, however, someone who would do anything to secure his reputation – which was unfortunately hanging by the thread at the moment.

Calm down… deep breaths…

"A-Are you all right, Ryoma-kun?"

Although his throat was still vibrating with ripples of laughter, he was relieved when he heard his usual cold voice answering her questioning gaze – a bit muffled under his palm, perhaps – but reasonably normal.

"…Fine." He shifted his eyes towards the pile of objects on the booth. "Have you found your money?"

"…Not yet, I must have left it at the café." She sighed softly and scooped up the last item on the booth to lay it gently on top of the bag. When Ryoma saw the tenderness with which she handled the object, he felt the laughter drain out of his throat.

It was also the first time in his life that he has glared at a flower with such intense dislike.

Softly, her fingers brushed against the creamy yellow petals of the rose as she placed it on top of a pile of textbooks. How lovely it looked – resting under the dim lights of the night like a bud carved out of butter. Yet Sakuno was very far from wanting to admire its beauty – for her dark troubled eyes revealed there was a more worrying matter on her mind.

For years now she has tried to convince herself that the misfortunes she had experienced around Echizen Ryoma had simply been coincidences. But even if she attempted to count the number of times she forgot something in front of him she would probably need two hundred fingers. Is it just as he had once said to her after she had forgotten her racquets – "You really wouldn't be able to survive by yourself"? Or is it him secretly working some dark magic on her that was making her doing stupid things like this?

Although unfortunate, the first option seemed closer to reality. She sighed.

Oh well… if there's going to be someone who can look after me….

"Your coffee's ready, missie." She looked up at the sound of a gruff voice. With an apologetic smile, she took the cup of Mochaccino from his gnarled hands. Yet to her surprise, the man leaned forward and, with a puff of fishy breath, murmured: "A nice young chap you've got there."

Her cheeks warmed. "Um… he's not…"

But the man had already vanished behind the rows of coffee tins – although not without a final wink and a thumbs-up.

Sakuno turned her head slightly and stole a quick glance at Ryoma, who seemed to have taken an interest in glaring at her bag – a bit odd perhaps, but she was relieved that he didn't seem to have heard what he said…

The coffee was sweet – almost sickeningly so. The ratio of coffee and chocolate was mistaken, maybe – although the rush of sugary liquid which continuously struck the tip of her tongue soon numbed her taste buds and she came to become grateful for the warmth which it provided. She retrieved her bag from the floor, but almost spilled her coffee in the process as she lost her balance from the weight of the bag. Damn those textbooks.

Half-expecting to feel the sharp prickles of the gravel on her knee and a hot slap of coffee on her thigh as she fell forward, she drew in a sharp intake of air when she did feel the cut of gravel on her legs – but without the exploding heat of coffee anywhere on her body.

In fact, she didn't even know where the coffee cup was.

Sakuno lifted both of her hands off the ground – where they had landed to prevent her from slamming face-down into the pedestrian pathway – and wiped them against her skirt to brush off the pieces of tiny stones. She was pretty sure they were holding the cup just an instant ago… even though now there was nothing in them but a few drops of blood where the gravels had sunk into her flesh.

"…What are you doing?" A cold voice sounded above her.

She has found her coffee. It was resting rather snuggly in someone's hand – she raised her eyes – Ryoma's hand. Extending a hand reluctantly, he helped her up and stuffed the coffee back into her hand.

"…Thanks." But wouldn't people normally save the girl first instead of the coffee?

…Oh well, this is Ryoma-kun we are talking about.

"…Give me that bag."

"What?"

He gave her a glare. "The bag in your hand."

It took her a moment to realize it was an offer of help and not a threat.

… if there's going to be someone who can look after me….

…as long as there's going to be someone to look after me…

She smiled a little. True, she couldn't possibly ask for anyone better than Ryoma to look after her…

…Even when he has to look after so many others?

Without warning, a montage of memories flooded her mind. Disheartening memories. Strong, powerful, painful memories. Oh yes… at the tennis club waiting for him – the memory was so horribly vivid she had almost forgotten it happened two years ago – that was when she first witnessed the intense competition between members of his fanclub – a girl offering a towel to him, then a different girl handing him a can of Grape Pontas, followed closely by another girl with a small box of snacks of some kind… and then another…

If she had to fight over ten other people for him to even catch a glimpse of her… what are the chances of him being there when she needed him?

The smile on her lips faltered like a withering flower.

She was sure of it now – what he had lived for and would only live for. Tennis, matches, fans – an endless cycle of glory and popularity. And the thought of them hurt – a lot. Subconsciously her fingers rose to touch her cheek, the stinging had grown worse in the bitter cold.

"…I'm fine, thanks," She replied quietly.

"…You've lied to me enough times today." He eyed the bandage on her cheek coldly.

For a moment she was tempted to give in – she bit back a familiar stutter. "I'm not - I'm fine, really. I just wasn't looking at where I was going."

He gave her another long look, but said nothing.

They resumed their journey back to the Ryuzaki residence in silence. It was definitely turning chillier – most pedestrians have found themselves a snug little café to tuck into, and those that were left were moving down the pathways in an excruciatingly slow speed as they fought against the currents of icy air. Even as Ryoma moved his lips to speak he could see the silver cloud of dust erupting from his mouth like sparkling pollen.

"…Does it mean that much to you?'

"What does?"

She thought she saw his jaw tighten.

"……Nothing."

As Sakuno's house drew nearer, Ryoma's mind became more clogged up with frustration; for the more he looked at her, the more he noticed the bag in her hand. And the more he noticed he bag in her hand, the more he seemed to care about the innocent-looking yellow rose half-hidden by the transparent cellophane wrapped around its soft hallow of petals.

If Echizen Ryoma had ever experienced defeat in an area outside of tennis, he would have recognized this sense of irritation as one which fell under that category. However, even if he did know the feeling of jealousy, he would not be one to show it.

For now he was quite convinced that this new emotion had originated from shock; shock at discovering how easily seduced girls are (by a single rose!? It was no wonder they were charmed by him hitting a furry green ball then…), and, more so, at how much one rose earns in return…

If a rose is returned with a kiss on the cheek, what would a bouquet get? How about a box of chocolate? Jewelry?? Hmm…

Then again, maybe he didn't want to go there.

A large acorn tree loomed over the entrance of her house. There was a crisp symphony of rustling as the leaves cackled in a crescendo of wind, then eventually died down to a faint whisper in the darkness. It had such a strong resemblance to child-like murmurs that Ryoma glanced up curiously at the branches to make sure there wasn't a little girl stuck among the web of twigs as the pair of them passed below. They stopped in front of the gate, and Sakuno turned towards her companion.

"Thank you for walking me home." She smiled.

"…It's fine," Ryoma mumbled and pushed his fists deeper into his pockets.

Crunch.

…And that's when he suddenly realized it was not for him to decide whether he wanted to know what a present would earn in return – for there was, in fact, a box in his pocket for him to try out his theory. His finger tips touched the silky ribbons of the present again, and this time he let them drop and close firmly around the box.

"…Ryuzaki."

His throat felt oddly dry as he drew out the small box from his coat and shoved it in front of her.

She was already halfway through the gate when his voice sounded behind her. A little surprised, she turned around – half expecting to hear him saying "your skirt was not done up properly" or something insensitive like that – and was overwhelmed by a much greater surprise at the sight of the object he was holding out to her.

Well, perhaps "stunned" would have been a more fitting word to use.

"Uh…" For two long minutes she struggled to fully comprehend the situation and to make sure she wasn't falling into any sort of trap the boy was constructing. Yet after glancing both ways down her street, upwards into the acorn tree and backwards into her empty house, she decided she was safe.

"…Is this for me?"

"What do you think?"

Reaching out, she gingerly took the box in her hand.

"Um…thanks."

He acknowledged her gratitude with a cool nod. Then there was a long silence.

…Was it her imagination? Or was he waiting for her to do something? …Oh, waiting for her to go in, of course. It was her house after all.

"Well… I'd better go in; otherwise my grandma would throw a psyche at me. Thanks again for-"

"…Free tomorrow?"

She stopped. Dizzily, she felt most of her blood surge to her brain in one giant pump. "…Pardon?"

"Is she – free tomorrow?"

"Who? My grandma?"

"Yes, your grandma."

Oh. She managed to buy some time to hide her disappointment as she pretended to ponder over her grandma's weekly schedule.

"…I don't think she is doing anything tomorrow…why?"

His glowing amber eyes shifted towards her house.

"Nothing much… I just have a few things about-" He paused to ruffle his hair. "-my dad that I want to discuss with her."

"Your father!? Is there something wrong with him? Is he okay?"

He looked slightly taken back by her show of concern at first, but then his eyes seemed to soften. He heaved a huge sigh in mock frustration.

"There's never anything wrong with that lunatic," He gave a cold laugh and turned away from her to make his way back up the street. "Although I'm sure he'll be over the moon to know what you just said."

With the faintest of a smirk, the princely aura melted into the dead of night, leaving the air still save the quiet hum of insects from her garden and a distant blare of a vehicle horn.

Breathing hard, Sakuno slammed the front door behind her and leaned against it. Her heart was pounding like a broken metronome – her blood seemed to be whizzing through her body at sixty miles an hour and she swore her arteries were about to pop any second, leaving her here on the floor of the entrance hall as she slowly bled to death.

Her temples throbbed as she tried to recollect her thoughts. If she remembered correctly – Echizen Ryoma just walked her home and personally gave her a present. Even though she has never been particularly strong in mathematics, she was smart enough to work out that the probability of that happening was extremely, incredibly low.

She sank weakly to the floor without even bothering to switch on the lights. The pale blue box in clutched in her hand was slightly crushed – whether it had been like that before it was given was beyond her – she had been too bewildered to notice – and even remember – anything that had happened since the instant he held out the present.

With trembling fingers Sakuno tugged at the silver silk that strapped over the blue paper. The knot was loose – and the paper was not sellotaped together all that tightly either. The package blossomed on her knee – and she gaped at the contents for a full minute, completely and utterly speechless.

A rock? What would she need a rock for?

It was not one of those sparkling commercial rocks either – in fact, its jagged edges and sandy texture suggested that it probably came straight from the beach.

She had to admit she was rather confused. Yet upon close inspection of the rock, she noticed that there was something underneath it – she lifted the rock and pulled out a delicate small bag… she couldn't suppress an urge to smile – it was almost like the good old days of treasure-hunting.

As her fingertips brushed lightly over the tiny silk sac she drew in a small breath of delight. The pink material was slippery on her palm as she elevated it up to take a closer look at the abstract representation of a rose embroidered on the front.

The picture of the rose was so exquisite she spent at least another full minute simply staring at it; taking in every curve of its leaves, every point of its thorns. But what aroused her interest was the unusual colour of its petals.

They were a deep crimson at the base but gradually fading into a pale pink at the tip. But surely – the bag was not the present itself? She pulled the soft pink ribbons fastening the sac opening and shook out its contents.

A small piece of notepaper fell onto her awaiting palm, and…. that's it. Even more confused, Sakuno flipped the note open and read it.

Dear Sakuno-chan,

Happy Birthday! I hope you enjoyed your birthday present – I'm sure it went well… XD He is such a wonderful boy deep down (which I'm sure you know). And I'm sure that deep down he knows you are a wonderful girl too.

Love,

Nanako

P.S. The rock was just so that he wouldn't be suspicious of the weight of the box – you can throw it at him if he ever tries to be horrible to you (not that he would).

Sakuno stared at the elegant handwriting and reread the note. Then read it again… and again.

She met Nanako for the first time only months ago. It was during their school's cultural festival in November – their class had organized a maze; and she was stupid enough to volunteer to try it out on that very morning. What followed could be easily foreseen – she got lost (despite the fact that the maze only had three dead ends), she was stuck in there for an hour, and it was not until Nanako heard about it and forced Ryoma to go in and find her that she could escape from the haunting darkness.

Yet things were not as romantic as they sound. There were no hugs, nor kisses upon their reunion in the maze. In fact, not only did Ryoma fail to fit any descriptions of a Knight in Shining Armor in terms of concern or tenderness, he did nothing but scolded at her the whole way to the exit (which she soon discovered to be only two corners away). It was also not until she came out of the maze – extremely pale with red-brimmed eyes – that she was introduced to Ryoma's cousin as "the one who gave me my first default four years ago…oh, and she's Ryuzaki-sensei's granddaughter."

She felt very much like shrinking into the size of a pea after that.

But now this… Sakuno gazed at the note, at the words "wonderful girl"… true, it was somewhat disappointing to find out that the present was not from Ryoma himself. But Nanako-san – who had been willing to smile and comfort her after the maze incident – has once again reached in and stitched up the hole created by Ryoma's bluntness.

She knew the truth. She knew that this present was most likely just an indirect repayment for her grandmother's contribution towards her uncle's tennis career… and not the meaning the note appeared to suggest.

All along she had known that her grandmother was really the one to thank - for all of her interactions with Ryoma had resulted from the connections created from the last generation, without which Ryoma would probably not even know her name, she would remain as one of the faces in the crowd. It was unfair… she did not blame the fan girls for being angry with her.

But…

Sakuno slowly stood up and went into the kitchen to pour herself a drink. As she went past a mirror in the hall she avoided her own reflection – and that of her bandaged cheek. To see that now would completely contradict her thoughts. Gently, she slipped Nanako's note into her pocket.

Just tonight… she would pretend the note was saying what she wanted it to say.

A/N: Haha, due to some complaints regarding the length of my previous chapter, I have written a super-dooper long chapter to make up for it. I hope you are somewhat satisfied now...although don't be too satisfied - there's still a fair way to go before the climax of the story so I'll try my best to keep you on the edge of your seats 'til then. Please keep reading - you won't regret it. Of course, reviews are always more than welcome.

In this chapter I've also dropped in a few hints about the upcoming 'hot chocolate analogy' - they will probably mean nothing to you at present but if you do ever reread the story once it's finished - you'll know they are there.

Cheers!