The Obsessed Romance

By darkwings09

Disclaimer: I do not, and will never, own Prince of Tennis. If I did, Ryoma and Sakuno will be a couple by now; Fuji will be sadistic more than ever and Kirihara and An's relationship will blossom! I only own the plot and the haunted mansion. (Oh, and the ghosts that lived there were only invented by me. Maybe except for Mikan and Natsume, yeah, I included them here, as ghosts that is )

Warning: Some of the characters are OOC. You have been warned.

Feel my obsession and love with the RyoSaku pairing! Oh, on such a short notice…WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO ALL RYOSAKU FANS OUT THERE?! Ooopsie…sorry about that. I'm just too carried away… Ahehe…just rambling.

Okay, so enough nonsense ramblings….

Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing this!

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Realizing what He's Worth

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THUD

The silence of everything inside the basement just isn't right. Just the footsteps…

THUD

With every step she makes felt like eternity. The sound of footsteps both of them made leaves a mark. Sakuno stared at her watch closely as time slowly ticks off. Why, not even a single word came out from her mouth, neither did she expects one. The old, worn-out walls of the mansion seems to be continuous, the apparently never-ending stairs triggers her mind. She tore her gaze from it to the person in front of her.

'Mou…'

An effulgent ray of light mysteriously appeared before her, calling her name over and over again. She hesitated, the feeling of her hair strands standing to its end. But the light insisted to make her follow, motioning her towards a certain room just two rooms ahead of her. No, she's frightened. Terribly frightened of the soon-to-be outcome if she follows the trail of light. Unfortunately for her, it gently taps her forehead as she gasped, and all became pitch black.

"Ryoma-kun…" her voice was unchanging as she called up to him. He looked up at her through his shoulders and raised an eyebrow. He was stunned when he saw that face of hers, that's not like it at all. The usually flushed cheeks turn into something pale, and that usually spirited stare turns into something blank. He kept his cool while that leonine look of his still plastered on his face.

"Oi, what's the matter?"

She shrugged the question off and motioned him to follow her. Noticing her odd behavior recently, he obliged and trailed after her, with a smirk of victory tugging the corners of his lips, although he already felt goose bumps all over him.

After walking a few steps, she stopped, directing her empty glance back to him. He also ceased and checked his steps, and returned her glance with his infamous smirk and golden eyes as keen as that of a hawk's. She didn't mind it at all. Which soul do you think would?

"We're here…" she reminded him and reached for the old-fashioned doorknob. She twisted, pulled and slammed the door open. He stood behind her, awestruck of the sight. Inside the large room lies an even deeper fragment of memories. A soft, comfortable bed very fitting for a princess, dusted picture frames threatened to fall down the floor in any minute now and a rather huge wardrobe for more than a dozen clothes, all very fitting for a high-born lady.

"Nnnnn…"

He gasped slightly as he witnessed her fainting and falling on the floor. He was about to help her frail figure when he noticed a prim but dim outline of the ghoul Kirara emerged right on top of her. With that mahogany auburn hair and intimidating but enticing eyes, she is surely a sight to see. Along with the anonymous glow, her long pink kimono reached the floor.

"Don't worry. She's only unconscious…"

Her voice was sonorous enough for him to hear. Heck, the tension began to fill every space available inside the room with just the power of her voice. He somewhat tensed but gathered all his guts as he pulled down the rim of his cap down to his eyes. He walked straightly beside her and slightly bent down, placing his hand on top of her forehead.

"Tell me," he started, this time removing his hand from her forehead and passed his gaze back to the silhouette in front of him, "…You possessed her, don't you?"

"Why bother asking…if you don't even care?"

A ghost was challenging himWhat more can be exciting than that? Still, he couldn't help but send a glare at her, wondering why the restless soul just couldn't mind her own business. He felt those electrifying jolts down to his spines.

…If you don't even care?

Reality hit him, hard. The question earlier remained untamed and lost in his mind. His conscience bore deeper as he asked the same question to himself. Does he care? He's not really as hard as a brick, and never is he as forever cold as ice. Why would she, specifically a ghoul, points out that he didn't even care? Heck, she doesn't even know him very well. Okay, to tell it forthrightly, he did care, to some extent.

"I really can't believe why she chose you. If only I could tell you how much she feels about you. Stubbornness, I tell you, stubbornness. That's the reason why you failed to notice how much she is devoted to you. Even a single obento she painstakingly cook every single day is worth even a thousand 'thank you's', you know? Yet, that's eventually your blind spot-"

"Stop…" he hissed under his breath as he interrupted her, "…You don't even know a thing. Look, I'm not leaving her until she wakes up, got it?"

"Tough one you got there. 'Up for the challenge? I'm warning you, though. This is for those who really have emotions"

What the hell is she talking about, anyway? If he ever has a scotch tape right now, he'll swear that he shuts her blabbering mouth with it. But no, she is a ghost, after all. If you're lucky enough, you can see one, but can never touch it.

She approached Sakuno, the lengthy laces of her kimono clashing with the floor and the locks of her auburn hair bouncing elegantly down to her waist. She bent down; her hands clasped together as she murmured a short prayer, although not one person can comprehend. She closed her eyes and brought her hand an inch above Sakuno's forehead. With a pale glow as she tried to revive the modest girl's conscience back, she carried on with the task.

Ryoma, on the other hand, pondered still with the statement earlier. Emotions…he was sure he has such. Well, even in the slightest scale. That kind of things doesn't really fascinate him. Whatever those are, he doesn't value them. Heck, he doesn't even want to cherish such. As he examined her pale face and her fresh pinkish lips he secretly wanted to see a warm smile plastered on it, he's now beginning to understand. The real one, the warmth he desired to feel whenever ice threatens to engulf his heart. Emotions are for the pathetic, fools and the like; that was his conclusion once. Sure, only fate can decide but one can never tell…

…Can he really feel true emotions…

…Such as 'love' itself?

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To be Continued

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OMG. Gomen for the late update! You know, the old, tiring busy school stuffs you got to attend…Maa. At least I still have time to squeeze in my (almost) hectic schedule. Gomen again!

Ahehehe…send some reviews or even flames! I accept any kinds of reviews! XD! Kya! I'm hyper today and will forever be whenever I write a fic, thank you- (Enter a creepy entrance hymn, interrupting the blabbers)

Darkwings: What the hell is that? O.o Oh, wait…

Mysterious silhouette: …

Darkwings: Better check that out first… Oh, Domou for reading this, anyway! Ja, minna-san! (Walks off and turned on the lights)

…What the-

Darkwings09