Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis was created by Konomi Takeshi. Not me. Please don't sue.

AN: Writer's block is a misnomer. It's more like writer's agony. Thanks for sticking with such a slow, erratic author. You guys are great. Thanks for all the support. I mean it. Enjoy.

Complicated

By Cinpii

He was being really quiet, Sakuno thought as she worked at freeing herself from the cloying confines of her water-steeped shirt. The fine-spun cotton clung to her form with stubborn tenacity, molding itself to her gentle curves. The sudden attack of the elements had thoroughly drenched her to the skin, making her clothes sodden and heavy. Her numb fingers fumbled at the buttons of her throat twice before she loosened her top enough to slip out of it.

Outside the rain pattered rhythmically, a never ending staccato upon the roof and sides of the tiny shed. It was a constant reminder of her imprisonment; a situation she would not be able to run away from. She had successfully dodged Ryoma for a month, but apparently fate decided enough was enough.

So here she was. Stuck. In the dead of the night during a freak thunderstorm with the one boy she was trying with all her heart to forget. How ironic. She used to while away hours in girlish daydreams about spending time with him. Whimsical wishes of a certain boy with cat shaped eyes quirking his lips in that certain way which made her forget everything except how boyishly handsome it made him look.

Now she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and forget any of this ever happened. Or disappear. That was good too. Sakuno wasn't picky. This was just so incredibly awkward. Here she was, taking off all her clothes, and Echizen Ryoma was right there, taking off his clothes as well. The more the pigtailed girl tried not to let it affect her, the more it did. Her movements were hindered by an almost debilitating shyness and try as she might, it was a daunting obstacle to overcome.

They were alone sharing a cramped, tiny space in a dark shed and getting more naked by the second. How was she supposed to remain cool and collected when everything was so stacked against her? She didn't want to like him. But she did. And that made all the difference in the world. With another boy, sure, it would be uncomfortable, but with Echizen Ryoma, he took uncomfortable to a whole new level.

Sakuno bit her lip, feeling horribly awkward. It was silly and she knew it. If she couldn't see anything, he wouldn't be able to either. There was no point in being modest. But she still couldn't shake it off. It was hard to fight against her nature. Her ingrained shyness reared its head once again, paralyzing the poor girl and making her even more miserable.

To staunch her discomfort, she tried pretending he wasn't there. It was a futile effort. She could hear his quiet breathing and it made her more self-conscious than she already was. Sakuno wished Ryoma would say something so she would at least know what he was thinking.

The tennis prodigy remained as quiet as a mouse, breathing in and out. Such slow, controlled breaths, they were barely audible if not for the fact that she was so keenly aware of him. Of his presence so close to her. So close in fact, she only had to take one step towards him to feel his body heat.

Body heat. Ryoma. No clothes. Sakuno blushed. Hard.

She slapped her cheek with a frozen palm. Why was she thinking about such things at a time like this? Baka baka baka! This was so not the right time to think about, to think about– well, what she was thinking about.

Not to say that she had never thought about it. With him.

The pigtailed girl felt her cheeks burning even hotter. If she wasn't so embarrassed, it would have struck her as funny how her face was the only warm part of her body. But she was embarrassed. And it wasn't funny. Not one bit.

It was dark. Cold. And if he wasn't naked, he was getting there. So was she. They were alone. Together. In the middle of a rainy night. With absolutely no supervision. The glaring fact that Ryoma was an adolescent boy did not escape Sakuno's attention.

Just how well did she know him, anyway? Should she really be taking her clothes off with him an arm's length away? Kami-sama, she must have done something really heinous to deserve this.

Sakuno fretted for a bit, her hands clutching the collar of her dripping shirt. A minute passed and nothing happened. Her shirt continued dripping, Ryoma kept on breathing, and the world remained spinning. Her hands loosened, then fell away.

She needn't have worried. Sakuno mentally laughed at the absurdity of her thoughts. Just because he was a boy didn't mean she had to distrust him. Ryoma had never shown any inclinations of perversion and it was wrong of her to indite him just because of her unease with their predicament.

Heck, the more Sakuno thought about it, the more she realized that Ryoma just wasn't at that stage in his life to be interested in girls. He had a large female fan base, all of whom he regularly dismissed and ignored. Not to say that he was interested in boys. The tennis prodigy was so indifferent to hormones as a whole that the very idea was laughable, really. It was silly to think he'd take advantage of the situation. Ryoma just wasn't the type. He didn't like her anyway.

Her jaw set at that thought. Yes, that was right. He didn't like her. And she didn't like him. She almost forgot about that. She didn't like him. Her hands fisted at the hem of her polo. Her eyebrow twitched. Echizen Ryoma was a stupid insensitive clod and she didn't like him one bit. If he was going to make insulting comments about her, she didn't need him. She had better things to do then waste her time pining over an immature little boy who was entirely too cocky and rude to boot.

Thinking that, Sakuno tugged her shirt off with extra gusto, her frustration and anger manifesting itself through her actions. The pretty girl paused, a sharp inhale parting her lips as her delicate skin became exposed to the cold air. The weighty water logged material slipped from numbed fingers and fell with a wet plop upon the ground. Sakuno was normally more careful with her belongings, but it was hard to care about the status of her shirt when she was freezing half to death. Goosebumps marauded across her body, a sweeping mass of prickling sensations rendering her immobile.

She shook it off when the shivers overwhelmed her tiny frame. Rainwater pebbled her flesh as it trailed its lazy path down her body. Her braids hung like twisted ropes against her vulnerable back, heavy from rain and icy stiff. Taking Ryoma's towel, she hugged it to herself, desperately instilling some bit of warmth. The dry absorbent cloth felt heavenly against her chilled skin and Sakuno buried her face in it, forgetting for a brief moment whose towel she was currently using.

His faint musky scent caressed her olfactory receptors like a lover's touch. With a start, Sakuno pulled it away, burning red. It was so intimate it was almost sexual.

Her previous indignation became rapidly replaced by embarrassment. All thoughts of staying mad at a certain tennis prodigy flew out the window. It was hard to remain angry when one was embarrassed beyond belief. Composure thoroughly shaken, she hastily started to remove the rest of her clothing. Hands shaking with impatience attacked the hook and zipper enclosure of her skirt. Following the fate of her forgotten shirt, it too fell down with a wet plop, but this time around her ankles.

Without a thought her panties were off as well and she was diving into the ready warmth of his white inner shirt. It was frustratingly difficult dressing in the dark, especially in unfamiliar clothing. This was something Sakuno quickly discovered as she struggled with the uncooperative article. With agonizing slowness, her fingers clumsily forced each button into its tiny hole. Luck was not on her side. Boy's clothing were constructed differently, Sakuno found out. The holes and buttons were on the opposite side of what she was used to, which made dressing in the dark even more awkward.

It certainly didn't help that she kept getting distracted. Ryoma's pheromones tickled her senses, making her even more aware of how suggestive this was. She was wearing him on her skin. The same cloth that touched him was now touching her in all the same places. Sakuno's cheeks heated up even more as she continued coaxing the obstinate buttons in her favor.

It was with surprise and relief when she discovered that his shirt reached her mid-thigh. It covered what needed to be covered, which was a very good thing because Ryoma was not sharing his pants. His windbreaker was water resistant so he was not as soaked as she, but he was still drenched. Since his Seigaku jacket did not protect his lower half, he was just as wet from the waist down.

Ryoma tore off his shirt and hopped into his pants, all the while battling images of a wet, scantily clad Ryuzaki Sakuno in an oversized shirt. His oversized shirt. The same shirt he wore to school not too long ago.

He never thought having a girl wear something of his could make him feel so possessive. But it did. And Ryoma kind of liked the feeling. It was appealing because he was getting used to the idea of him. And Sakuno. Together.

Kinda.

Things were sort of muddled as of right now. She wasn't feeling particularly kindly towards him. And he hadn't apologized yet. And well, he wasn't even sure if she would like him back. And if she didn't like him back, then there was no point in letting her know that he liked her. And if there was no point in letting her know, then there was no point in apologizing.

Ryoma closed his eyes. Was this what they called circular logic? He wasn't even making sense anymore. He just wanted to know if she liked him, damnit. If she just gave him a sign. The moment he thought of that, he knew they were doomed. He was going to base the future of their relationship on Sakuno?

Bad bad bad.

Whatever she did next could make or break any potential they might have together. Ryoma ran his fingers through his hair. Hyper shy, self-deprecating Ryuzaki Sakuno making a first move? Hardly likely.

What a quandary.

Ryoma bent down and felt around for his bag. Finding what he wanted, he took out his black uniform jacket and proceeded to shrug it on. He wondered again why in all the heavens he had to fall for such a timid person. And he cursed himself for being too proud to reveal his feelings first. Ryoma sighed. Life without girls was definitely less complicated. Tennis was nowhere as hard as figuring out the mind of the opposite sex. He just needed a sign, he thought again. Then maybe he could put his pride aside and tell her, tell her–

"Ah!" Sakuno gasped softly.

Musings shattered, Ryoma instinctively turned around to ask her what was wrong. He didn't get the chance to speak. Suddenly he was falling backwards. Falling backwards half naked with an equally half naked Ryuzaki Sakuno sprawled upon him.

The fates had got to be joking. It was his last conscious thought before Echizen Ryoma conked out.