"…If they fire you, I'll resign."
Akito's eyes widened. But before he could say anthing more, there was a flutter of glimmering auburn hair and she had disappeared behind his gate.
He shook his head and grinned, a little triumphant, a little confused, and a little amused. Before he walked back to the warmth of his house, his hazel eyes lingered on a cherry blossom tree across the street, and his eyes glowed in the fading lights with a subtle challenge.
"What will you do now, Echizen...?"
Sakuno moved down the pedistrian path slowly. She needed time to think, to sort out this messy and unexpected turn of events.
Why should he take all the blame?
I was the one who started it...if I hadn't spilled the coffee, if I hadn't talked back to his insults, if I had appologized more...There were tons of things which I did wrong. Yet he got punished for them, not me. Oh, Akito-kun...you are silly...
Lost in thought, her leather boots accidentally dug into a block of ice, splintering it into a thousand pieces under her weight. She kicked the largest piece out of her way, but her frustration only seemed to have enhanced her clumsiness, for she partly missed and only made contact with the jagged block as her feet came back down. It flew behind her in a zig-zaggy line. She didn't take much notice of it at all, for who would pay extra attention to a broken shard of ice on the road? That is, before it flies back at you.
Still occupied in her own thoughts, Sakuno didn't notice the ice whizzing towards her until it bounced off her heel. She looked down in surprise and was just deciding whether or not it was her imagination when a voice as cool as the ice caused her to spin around in greater astonishment.
"Too slow." The boy with emerald hair and Seigaku school uniform emerged from the darkness, his tennis bag still slung carelessly over his right shoulder. A smirk appeared on his lips, although it was so faint it was barely visible. "Physically and mentally."
Sakuno was stunned to silence as she watched the boy stroll up to her, kicking aside more blocks of ice along the way. And when she finally regained the ability of speech she could only splutter in confusion.
"Ryoma-kun - why are you-I mean, how did you..."
She gave up and simply stood there gaping at him like a child who had just had her favourite doll confiscated. He looked back at her in faint amusement, but it faded as quickly as it came. His lips set back in a grim line.
"What are you doing out here so late at night?" He asked.
"Why am I...? What about you?" After she recovered from the first wave of shock at his sudden appearance, her annoyance seemed to have settle back in. The silent reproach was simmering within her suspicious eyes.
He shrugged and looked away. "As far as I know, this is a public road."
Awkwardness enveloped the pair as they walked in the direction of the cafe, with neither looking at the other person. A man yelled something two streets away, yet it sounded as clear as if he was right next to them.
It took a while before she rememberred and had gathered enough courage to demand the long-awaited explanation from him.
"...Why did you play seriously against him that day?"
Ryoma answered even without looking at her. "Do you think he would be happy if I held back?"
"Is this about pride again? If it is, then don't you realize the situation was beyond that? He was wounded!" She cried, and threw her arms out in disbelif.
There was a pause before his reply. "...What exactly is your definition of a 'wound'?"
She was getting very irritated. "What are you trying to say?"
For the first time, their eyes made contact as his face turned towards hers - for some reason, she felt an electrifying jolt of fear as the cold honey merged with warm chocolate.
"...Maybe I just have a narrower definition of the word, that's all."
She didn't know what to say after that. But she did distinctly feel her heart struggling to keep up with her mind as an unspoken truth formed in a fuzzy cloud inside her head, yet she was too afraid to make it focus. Something told her that the shape, or the colour, or even the texture...something would not be what she wanted to see.
Luckily, her mind did not have time to linger upon this for long.
Sometime during their little venture back to the cafe, they had come to a relatively crowded area of the city where everywhere they looked there were groups of girls toying with the knobs and dials of a Purikura photo machine, and gangs of boys screaming over online games in internet cafes. It was a popular spot for tennagers seeking late-night entertainment. Sakuno's friends rarely invite her to come here, though - they knew how disgusted she was at the untasteful language heard throughout the streets and her awareness of the higher teenage crime rate in this particular area. She had not the faintest idea about Ryoma though - perhaps he was often brought here by Momoshiro for one of their famous hamburger shops. Therefore she did not take much notice when he flinched. It was only when he grabbed her arm and dragged her into a nearby alleyway that she was slightly taken back. Immediately her mouth opened to resist, yet she was forced to shut it again when he pressed a finger on his own lips to signal silence. With the little fear that was settling in, she watched as his expression change from solemn to alarm and from alarm to exasperation. Reaching into his tennis bag, he fumbled around for something, all the while his eyes were glued on an unknown object across the road. Sakuno looked around but only saw a couple of girls giggling over a stray dog gnawing at an old bone. She frowned and was just opening her mouth to ask when he pulled out his Regular jacket and shoved it into her arms.
"Wear it." Whispering, his voice showed a rare sense of urgency.
She didn't take it but stared at him in confusion. "What are you-"
"Just wear it."
Although still in a hazy state of puzzlement, she decided to temporarily overlook her anger at him and took it. As she slid her arms into its baggy sleeves she was surprised at its warmth, and she couldn't help but colour slightly at the faint smell of Ryoma which wafted out from its material lining.
"...Sorry, I only use baits when I'm desperate." As if pressed for time, he rushed through the explanation and began sprinting away before even waiting for her to agree. However, he did not forget to murmur a quick expression of gratitude before he was out of earshot.
"Thanks, Ryoma."
Sakuno stared after him with huge, blank eyes, and watched as he sped past the girls like a hurricane. The girls seemed to have noticed him anyway, even without his regular jacket, for they squealed and one of them pointed in the Prince's direction. Then the three of them nodded and ran after him, Sakuno could still hear their giggles of delight thirty seconds after they had followed him and vanished around the corner.
Well, I was a useful bait. She thought with sarcastic amusement. Looking down at the baggy jacket which drooped down to the middle of her thighs, she bit back a smile.
Not that I even look anything like him to be his replacement...what on earth was he thinking!?
She continued to walk in the direction of The Snow Cottage, but much of her frustration and anger has now dissipated due to the weird but intriguing event minutes before.
I hope he's all right... not torn to pieces by his enthusiastic fans or anything. But why would anyone... run in the direction of the thing they are trying to avoid?
His lungs burned with the need for oxygen. His breathes came out in short sharp puffs of smoke as he tore through the streets.
Casting a few quick glances behind him, Ryoma slowed to a jog when he was certain that he had lost the girls who were tailing him five minutes ago. He exhaled a sigh of relief and leaned against a shop window to rest. Even though he runs twenty laps around the tennis courts a day, the violent exercise was still tiring, as laps around tennis courts do not usually include the mental strain of constantly looking out for girls from his now non-existing fanclub.
Well, the girls who joined the fanclub have achieved their goal after all... since I do remember their faces now...for my own safety. Ryoma shook his head sadly and unbuttoned the first button of his uniform to let in more air. The coolness was refreshing, although a Ponta would be better.
A girl with long brown hair and a slender springy body walked past him. His shoulders tensed, but when he realized it wasn't her, he relaxed again. He hates himself when he does that. He didn't even know when it started. But whenever she's around, he feels queasy, restless... unlike himself. Even through he is still unable to admit it, he is beginning to recognize his fear of this feeling.
The fear of so much feeling.
Echizen Ryoma had always been cold, emotionless, and dense. He liked it that way, and this foreign feeling which had sprung up from nowhere certainly wasn't going to disrupt that reputation. So he avoided her. He refused to look at her, speak to her, or even extend a helping hand when he saw her struggling, once again, with her English homework. He doidn't want that feeling; it would most likely do just the opposite of benefiting him, and would therefore serve as an obstacle in life, whether it was in terms of school or tennis. Ryoma didn't want to be tied down, to be restrained by a single rope of intangible emotion which he had no way of knowing how to cut loose. And so he chose to escape, to break loose before the rope has tightened around his heart.
However, his heart was one thing, and his mind was another.
Even before he had seen her shivering at Tezuka Akito's door, he knew she was cold... no one but her can be as stupid as coming out in the middle of winter in nothing but a skimpy cafe waitress's uniform. "Well, it serves her right for rushing so mindlessly to his house."... was what flashed through his mind, a most pathetic, but normal thought for a young man. But the fiery competitive spirit of youth that burned within him like red hot charcoal blinded him from all other importance, including his pride, and his hand grabbed the jacket in his bag, tempted to crush the gentleman act of the other boy with one of his own marvelous performances when-
"…If they fire you, I'll resign."
...People often wonder, what truly is love? Is it the overpowering desire to have one another? Is it the suicidal act of flinging oneself down a bottomless cliff in order to save another? Or is it something as simple as making a hot steamy mug of chocolate for someone after a long hard day? Perhaps there will never be an exact definition, but what is for sure is that the greatest love stories, the kind that draws out a long string of tears from under those long inky eyelashes, are always for one to wish another absolute happiness, and to assist in that person in seeking that happiness...even if it doesn't involve them.
At that precise moment, the sight of her trembling lips and her locked brows defrosted a part of him, a part of him that has never been touched before. And the answer he had been longing for came tumbling out. Yes, he realized the brows were locked for a man other than himself, and the glistening moisture in her eyes expressed a determination that has never been shown for him before. But his most important discovery is that these feelings are of little significance if by his side is where her happiness truly lies.
His. Akito's.
No matter how dumbstruck he was when the truth unfolded before him, he realized he could do nothing to contribute towards her happiness if it doesn't include him. For it is quite clear now... Akito was more important than him in her mind, although he cursed the cruel fate which has revealed this along with his realization of the girl's status in his mind.
Despite his frozen expression, his chest had throbbed with pain.
What the hell should I do now? Just... leave her shivering? The hand on the tree trunk had curled into a tight fist as he watched her walk off. What happens if the person who is supposed to give her happiness doesn't fully look after her? Surely she would not be happy if she caught a cold.
He was going to give her the Regular jacket efficiently, just drape it over her as he would over a manikin. But his regained pride stopped him. Now that he could think straight again and not blown away by the intense feeling of rivalry... such gentleman gestures (well, for him it is gentlemen) would be, after all, harmful to his reputation, He had not done it before and he was certainly not going to ruin his pride with it. Even the idea of giving a girl a jacket generated goose bumps on his arms...
Then, just as his mind and his heart battled deep within him, he saw the girls, three of so many who frequently bashed him with autograph books, cameras, and English textbooks. He knew that despite their sweet appearances, their brutality sends shivers down even his spine. Immediately he stuffed the jacket deeper into his bag, No, he couldn't risk having Ryuzaki walking past them. A replay of what happened last week would be the last thing he wanted... But if he gave her the jacket in front of those girls...then they are going to misunderstand and that is exactly what's going to happen.
Misunderstand...
And it was then that the baiting strategy occurred to him like a shimmering ray of light.
..Luckily the plan seemed to have worked; Ryuzaki has always been slow at figuring things out. Ryoma sighed and watched the rainbow neon lights weaving out an exquisite fish pattern above him. Although I'm not quite sure if I did the right thing...He scanned the crowds of pedestrians for any sign of his three female fans. They were, fortunately, nowhere in sight.
Ugh, heroic acts of sacrificing oneself for someone else really isn't my thing after all...He wiped his forehead in exhaustion and adjusted the straps of his tennis bag which have loosened during the run. Coins jingled in his pockets as he set off towards the train station. Spare change was always kept in his uniform for the unpredictable Ponta cravings that he has. And he was thankful for this habit; for he would need a little more cash today than usual to reach his destination and, maybe, award himself with a can of Ponta after his mission.
Yes… if I want to end this, I would end this properly.