13th February

The instant they were spotted…

…pandemonium.

There were much pushing and shoving and, within five seconds, the entrance was gridlocked. Still the fangirls came in droves, pouncing on the boys like starving animals and waving presents wildly above their heads. The ear-grating cacophony and dizzying sights of multi-coloured presents made a lethal cocktail that'd numb human senses.

Ahh, Valentine's Day.

Unofficial Valentine's Day. To make up for falling on a Saturday this year, the much-coveted day was being celebrated in advance today. Yes, today. Friday the Thirteenth. Regaded by the supersitious as an inauspicious day.

Despite the impossible obstacle standing between her and the warm entrance hall, Akemi was undeterred. Taking a deep breath, she slipped away from the regulars and plunged headlong into the jostling gaggle of girls without batting an eye. She made it to the other side, uniform and hair ruffled from the ordeal but nothing a quick patting couldn't remediate.

She glanced behind. Even as she stared, befuddled, the outpour of girls seemed endless and the congestion threatened to spill further back. For a brief moment, Akemi pondered on the existence of hidden portals scattered about the entrance hall.

Her journey onwards resumed.

Several rows of shoe lockers later, Akemi glanced into a random aisle and could have sworn something in the shadows shifted. Squinting, she could barely make out the bleak faces of five boys skulking in there. Half filled with envy, half embittered with hope, the shifty-looking group spied on the roisterous ceremony taking place at the entrance. Their glassy stares were fixated on the girls, chocolates…

…and her?

Akemi hastened her pace.

The unsettling sensation of being watched vanished the moment she turned into a familiar aisle. But it was too early for relief.

Coming to a grinding halt, Akemi took in the unbelievable sight before her.

The metal door was hanging uselessly on its hinges, unable to close. Someone had moved her indoor shoes, sparing them from being buried under heaps of Valentine's Day presents that were wedged into the depths of her locker. Wouldn't be the least surprising if the ones near the deep end were crushed out of recognition.

Akemi pinched the bridge of her nose.

Silly. Oh so silly.

She threw an exasperated look up. The toes of her indoor shoes poked out from the top of the shoe locker. Her face contorted. Was it worth the pain?

The P.E. teacher appeared, brawny figure swelling with authority as his dark eyes scanned the unruly mob. "Alright, kiddos, this is your warning!" His deep voice rumbled over the din. "Anyone found blocking the entrance will face disciplinary actions." Two girls withdrew from the mob and streaked past Akemi. "I repeat. Severe disciplinary actions." Five more girls fled. "This is your last warning!" the teacher bellowed, the veins on his neck bulging. "Clear the entrance hall, or I'll send a note to your parents!"

Akemi jumped back, clutching her bag to her chest, and pressed her back against the locker. The ground beneath her feet shook as the stampede of fangirls surged through her aisle. One small move and she could find herself trampled underneath. Definitely not a pretty picture.

Seconds later, the entrance hall was engulfed in silence. After all that clamour following the mob's retreat, the sudden stillness in the air was rather… disorientating.

The teacher looked in Akemi's direction. His stern eyes narrowed and regarded her for a solid five seconds; Akemi felt the weight of his stare bearing down judgement on her. He continued sweeping his gaze around the hall, pausing to assess each person, until he deemed it safe to disappear back into the administrative building.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the hall.

Akemi carefully heaved her back off and dusted down her uniform. She stood in front of her locker again and made a quick calculation. She took off her loafers, stepped onto the wooden platform and stood on her toes. She retrieved her indoor shoes with a deft swipe of a hand and slipped into them. Just as she was about to pick up her loafers, a small voice piped up.

"You're not leaving us here… right?"

Don't turn around. Don't turn around. Don't turn around.

Akemi glanced over her shoulder.

Each regular boasted oodles of chocolates in his arms. Overladen arms. They stood very still – some looked flustered, others unsure of themselves – fearing the slightest movement would send the chocolates flying. It was an amazing sight to behold.

Akemi nonchalantly curled a hand around a lock of hair. "I'm sure you're capable of wearing your shoes," she replied coolly.

"That's not the problem!" Marui protested.

"We're rather tied-up here," Yanagi pointed out.

"And we don't have all day," Yukimura pleasantly added. "Some of us have important duties to uphold."

Kirihara put on his best puppy face impression. "Pleaaaaaaaase, senpai?"

Hey, that's not fair.

Akemi grimaced when some of the guys took a leaf out of Kirihara's book. She could pick up her loafers, leave them be. But her shoe locker…

She slouched forward in defeat and sighed in resigned exasperation. "Geez, such grown kids you lot are," she grumbled under her breath, dumping her bag unceremoniously on the ground to shameless cheers. She shot them a withering look. She did not sign up for babysitting duties. Surely.

XXX

The girls of class 2-B had pooled an assortment of chocolate confectionaries for the lucky dip. With their homeroom teacher's permission (and a present on his desk), the last ten minutes of homeroom were set aside for the event. Names were called out based on seating arrangement. Each boy would go up to the front of the classroom, draw a ticket and collect their prize. The motive behind the event was to ensure the boys weren't leaving school at the end of the day empty-handed. Obligatory or not, the presents would give them something to brag about to their friends and family.

Watching idly from her seat, Akemi wondered if it's stemming the flow of jealousy towards Niou and Yagyuu. Her mind wandered to the other six. How were everyone coping?

Not everyone was keen on the regulars. Akemi had caught the hint earlier on, when she was cautiously trailing the regulars from a safe distance. It was weak but she'd definitely sensed animosity stirring in the air amid the squall of fangirls greeting the regulars at the corridor.

'Or it was just my imagination. It's really one girl plotting… my… demise…'

Akemi brushed it off with an uneasy laugh in her head. Sitting up straighter in her chair, she returned her focus on the ongoing lucky dip.

The silver dumbbell was up next. The room erupted into a frenzy the instant Miyagi-sensei called his name. Akemi slapped her hands over her ears, clutching the side of her head. Her face scrunched up in an unsightly grimace that'd give children and herself nightmares. The toe-curling, hair-splitting animal noises from Niou's fangirls were slipping through the gaps between her fingers like smoke, her ears might bleed.

It could be worse.

She could be sitting beside one of those macabre scream machines.

The class vice-president stood rigidly, eyes on the floor, as the trickster moseyed over to her, the cries of rapture on his back. She had a death grip on the box of tickets, her knuckles were ghostly white. As the footsteps approached, louder and louder her heart pounded. Niou flashed her a carefree smirk. Hinata immediately regretted the decision to peek; her face was hot and beet red, she might melt at his feet.

Hinata stood her ground.

Stiff as a statue, she thrusted the box out, refusing to meet her crush's eyes again. Niou slipped a hand down the hole and rummaged inside the box. There were faint tremors on Hinata's hands, but she didn't drop the box or pass out.

The mysterious power of St. Valentine at work?

Yes. Probably.

Revered?

St. Valentine lost a sceptical follower the second Niou's prize was dropped into his hands. That dreadfully familiar polka-dot packaging was scavenged from a ¥100 shop, and the cookies themselves were made by the hands of Noda Akemi. It took every morsel of willpower to stay in her seat.

XXX

A resounding bang ripped through the air when the backdoor was ungraciously thrown open. Heads snapped around as a group of girls burst into class 2-B. The timing of their arrival was impeccable; they'd been lying in wait in the corridor for the end-of-lesson bell to ring, ready to spring into action, to ambush their target.

The look in their eyes were wild as they glanced about. Niou and Yagyuu had disappeared right under their nose.

Again.

One of the girls was close to tears. Her friend rubbed her back consolingly. "Hey, don't be disheartened. We'll get them next time. Trust me. Come on, let's get out of here." The door slid to a close behind the group.

The soft click was music to everyone's ears. Lively conversations and laughter broke out amongst the students, and breaktime was business as usual at class 2-B in the matters of seconds.

"Must they do this every single break?" Akemi's complain drew a chuckle.

"Being popular has its drawbacks, huh?" said Imai Makoto, grinning affably from his seat behind hers. "I feel kinda bad for Niou and Yagyuu. What with the constant pressure of winning tournaments, harsh trainings, and things like fangirls. How do they maintain a sane mind?"

"Believe me," Akemi chuckled wryly, "sanity doesn't exist in the tennis club. Any semblance of normality becomes lost somewhere down the road. I know mind did," she added with a dismal sigh, "and that was before I became manager." Propping up her elbow on her desk, she lazily reclined her head against her hand and scowled. "I hope they get caught soon. Those girls are driving me up the wall with their crazy antics."

Imai smiled uneasily at her indifferently-delivered wish. "Well, third time's the charm."

"Hmm, we'll see about that."

Seconds before the bell rang, Niou and Yagyuu walked in, unscathed and arms empty.

Akemi had to hand it to them. Every corner of the school must be infested with fangirls looking out for the regulars. Remembering the distraught girl, she felt a pang of pity, surprising herself. When did she turn into a fangirl sympathiser? True, she still accepted fan mails, but only to stop them clogging up her shoe locker. This morning was clearly an exception. She hoped the note (signed by the disciplinary committee's vice president) taped on the door was deterring further attempts.

Another lesson came and went.

The backdoor crashing into the doorframe was fast becoming a recurring sound, nobody so much as flinched anymore as the same group of girls swooped down on class 2-B. But the slippery regulars had yet again snuck out at some point. How a person could move so fast and slip past the fangirls without notice remained a mystery. A school legend, by the end of the day.

There was a loud thud.

The girls from earlier appeared to have reached peak frustration and was throwing a tantrum. Her friend tried to calm her. Eyes burning with hatred snapped to a certain noirette.

A tense silence descended over the classroom, broken by the sound of chair scraping the floor moments later.

Akemi was on her feet, the visage of poise and calmness. She gathered her possession, pocketed the hall pass – Yagyuu was responsible for the card and must have left it on her desk on the way out – and legged it.

XXX

He tugged the jacket's collar sharply around his neck, surveying his surrounding with an anxious air. It was late afternoon. Tennis activities had ended early, but the courts were teeming with hungry black and yellow bees. He needed to be extra cautious. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, a hand flew out of nowhere and struck the side of his face. Hard.

He spat a curse, eyes clenched shut and face twisted in agony.

"Oops, sorry. Didn't see you there," a flustered voice apologised. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to – I mean. Err, never mind. Want me… to get… her?" There was a brief pause. "Hey, you're… you're from the soccer club."

His eyes snapped open. Shit.

"In-intruder! We have an intruder!"

Throwing the stolen jacket off him, the intruder swung around. He put one foot out and suddenly found himself pinned to the spot. His innards froze over with dread.

Peering from the shadows of a black baseball cap, a pair of cold eyes bore down on his trembling figure. The thickset arms unfolded and one of the hands reached out.

XXX

Akemi lifted her eyes to the sky. The wispy clouds reflected in those brown pools were distant… like that bloodcurdling scream just now. Reverie disrupted by a loud gasp, her mind reeled back to ground-level.

She cocked an eyebrow.

Kirihara was gawking at her, as if she'd spouted an extra head. "Senpai was chased by fangirls all day?"

Akemi heard plenty of urban myths surrounding Friday the Thirteenth; one of which explained the lack of love confessions in school today, despite the occasion. All hogwash, obviously. But the fangirls bit…

Put it this way. Hearing it aloud from another person intensified the phantasmagoria-like sequence of events.

"You don't know the half of it," Akemi chuckled dryly and relayed everything to the regulars. Her audience listened raptly without interruption, the lively background noise muted in their ears. At some point, Sanada returned from his surveillance and was sucked into her tale.

"...and after that, they gave up looking for me. All's well that ends well," she said with a little shrug.

Marui whistled. "I thought we had it bad."

Like duh.

Those bloodthirsty girls would rather eat mud than look bad in front of their idols. Acting all cutesy and flirty. Werewolves. Minging werewolves. That one girl turned out to be quite a violent little monster. Akemi couldn't believe she'd felt sorry for her.

"I can't believe you hid in a tree," Kirihara remarked, looking at her reverently.

"You should've come looking for us in the first place," Sanada reproached.

"That might aggravate things."

"Took the words right from my mouth, Yanagi-san," said Akemi.

"Did they hurt you? Oh my god, tell me you're not hurt!"

"Relax, Kirihara-kun, I'm fine."

"Some of them can be quite territorial," said Yukimura. "I can't begin to imagine how tough the ordeal was for you. You've been lucky so far." A meaningful smile spread across his features. "Unless there's something you're withholding from us?"

"What? No–"

Thinking back… those two third year girls were unapologetically rude; accosting her at the stairwell, and throwing false accusations at her. It happened on the day after her official inauguration into the club. Akemi would've said something regrettable to fuel their resentment if Mori Juzaburo hadn't interfered in the nick of time.

"–thing of that sort," Akemi dismissed with a casual laugh. "Geez, what are you insinuating? Don't worry. If anything of that sort happens again in the future, I'll make sure you guys are the first to know. Savvy?"

Murmurs of assent rose after a few moments of hesitation.

Yukimura, however, evidently took her words with a grain of salt. There was a ghost of a knowing smile on his lips.

Akemi averted her eyes and addressed the others. "Oh, guys. How's the cake?" she asked, painfully aware that her voice had gone up a pitch.

She snuck another furtive glance out of the corner of her eyes. That crease on the corner of lips –Damn that Yukimura's enjoying the sight of her internal panic!

Mentally cursing him to oblivion, she soldiered on. "Does it taste alright? It's been in the fridge since morning, after all."

"Alright? It's chocolicious! Choco-heavenlicious!" Marui exclaimed.

"Really? Hahaha… thank goodness."

Thank goodness indeed.

Akemi's glad her cakes held and last night was not a wasted effort. Store-bought chocolates would cost her a pretty penny, but choosing the recipe wasn't an easy feat either. She didn't have the luxury of time to prepare individual gifts. And the smell. Urgh, it'd take days – weeks probably – for the whole house to ventilate. With a little help from the internet, the idea of making batches of no-bake chocolate hazelnut cheesecake was thus born. Perfect to feed an army of hungry high school boys. Which also meant they have to deal with the occasional –

"Intruder! Intruder alert!"

"Don't let him get away!"

"The vice-captain! Where's Sanada? Anyone seen him?"

Pulling down his cap in a businesslike manner, Sanada excused himself and sprinted in the direction of the disturbance. Akemi, Yanagi and Yukimura stayed behind while the others went after the vice-captain.

"Looks like everyone's having fun," Yukimura beamed. "Isn't that great, Akemi-san?"

A shrill scream penetrated the atmosphere.

"He's got them," Yanagi remarked.

"Oh dear, are those taunts I hear?"

The person in front of Akemi moved away. She had a clear view of three panic-stricken guys huddled together in the middle of a jeering crowd. Sanada towered ominously over the intruders, staring down at them as if passing off judgements. He grabbed the scruff of their necks, two in each hand, and began hauling the intruders towards the exit.

The excited crowd's hue and cry intensified.

"Throw them in the dungeons!"

"Feed them to the lions!"

"Burn them at the stakes!"

"The rope!"

"Dragons!"

Oh dear lord…

"Revealing their sadistic natures in broad daylight, aren't they eager today?" Yukimura said with a cheerful lilt. "Take note, Renji."

"Already on it."

Akemi rolled her eyes. 'Pot calling kettle black.' She felt sick listening to their light-hearted commentaries and tuned them out.

Sanada had been reinforcing the no outsiders rule like a martinet, routing out opportunists infiltrating their ranks. He was backed by forty-nine others. Everyone's going out their way to ensure the cakes were solely savoured by the tennis club, that the manager's efforts were not wasted on gatecrashers.

While Akemi appreciated the gesture, "I can't stand this anymore. He'll get us into trouble with that kind of rough handling."

Yanagi and Yukimura were about to stop her when a high-pitch scream penetrated the atmosphere. They glanced at each other, comprehension written all over their faces.

"Kyyyyaaaaaaa!"

"It's him!"

"Kyaaaa!"

"He's finally here!"

"I want to get his autograph!"

"Notice me!"

Where the shrieks didn't stop her, the distinctive sound of pounding hooves froze Akemi in her tracks. She glanced up the embankment.

A huge form pelted into view in an intriguing blur of colours, and made a death-defying leap over the grassy slope. Dropping his cargoes, Sanada threw his arms over his head and ducked. People were scrambling for safety, yelling with fright, desperately pleading the manager to move.

Akemi didn't.

She was dumbstruck.

The hooves touched ground. Her heart shuddered in awe at the magnificent thuds.

A blanket of silence descended over the tennis courts, peppered by the clip clop, clip clop of hooves. Powerful muscles rippled beneath the glossy coat, as its limbs moved with grace and poise that could give pro models a run for their money.

The beautiful creature halted neatly in front of the stunned Akemi. It tossed its grey head back and nickered, ears flickering restlessly at the slightest noise. A hand reached down to rub its thick neck, the placating gesture calmed the steed's excitement.

All eyes shifted to the rider.

Silhouetted against the twilight sky, his masculine features were half-concealed in the shadows. He was garbed in lavish period military clothing, and a fur-trimmed cloak draped stylishly over his shoulder to complete his sophisticated profile. He glanced around, viewing the gawking spectators with an undisguised condescending air. Eventually, the dark blue eyes rested on the only girl present.

It took a few seconds longer to register the swift movement, but Akemi's body was one step ahead of her mind. Her hands drifted from her sides and met together in front of her in a cupping gesture. Something soft hit her palms. She examined the object. A gerbera. Light pink.

As if a spell was broken, the tennis courts erupted in a furore.

"W-what is this madness?"

"Get outta here!"

"Don't bring your circus to our school!"

"Hear, hear!"

Paying no heed to the dreadful simian noises around him, the rider swung off the saddle – cloak billowing and all. His polished black boots made a melodious click on the ground.

Regarding the ruckus around him, a patronising sneer formed on his lips. "Humph, uncultured commoners."

His gaze softened a fraction upon meeting the girl's eyes. No doubt, his grand entrance dazzled this country bumpkin. He smirked at that thought, extending a hand towards her. "Come," he said in a deep, authoritative tone.

Without a trace of hesitation in her strides, Akemi crossed the two metres and flung her arms around the cushy neck. She nuzzled her face against the gloriously soft mane. "It's you! I can't believe you're actually here. Naughty boy, you gave my poor heart quite a scare back there. But my goodness, that was an impressive jump," she gushed. "You're a brave lad, aren't you, Winchester? Clever boy. Sweet Winnie –"

A sudden ominous presence cut off the tide of praises.

Akemi peered up to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring daggers at her. She broke into a smile and chirped, "Hi!"

"Don't 'hi' me," Atobe Keigo growled. "I don't like to repeat myself but this is the last time I'm doing your thick head a favour." His intimidating face drew closer. "Your silly names are grave insults to Winchester's dignity – which goes without saying, directly affects me, his master."

"I can call him whatever I want because we're happily in love."

"Harh!?"

"Aren't we, Chessiepoo?" Akemi gave the neck a good scratch. The grey leaned into her touch, nickering softly. She turned to a purple Atobe, eyes glinting triumphantly. "See?"

"Cut it out."

"On one condition. I get to call you Keigo-rin."

"What did I say about using vilifying suffixes last time?"

"I'm not allowed to call you Kei-chan?"

"Exactly."

"But you never said anything about –rin," Akemi confidently pointed out.

"Why I ought to –" Atobe abruptly broke off and narrowed his eyes in an icy glare. Outwardly, he looked composed, but his organs were probably being roasted by his seething rage.

She was toying with him, that girl. Well, news flash, two can play at this game.

Atobe took a step forward, wearing a roguish smirk on his lips. "Oh? Giving me that kind of cheek, you're more dim-witted than I thought." His dark eyes roamed over her face. "You look a little pale. Don't worry, I know just the right thing to –"

"Hey, is that real fur?" an obnoxious voice chimed in.

The sinister laugh gave way to an indignant cry when Atobe suddenly found himself hustled back by a group of inquisitive Rikkai regulars. He was batting away the hands from touching his clothes, as he would a fly.

"Who are you cosplaying, Atobe-san?"

"Can I touch your cloak?"

"Woah, it's soft and fluffy!"

"Faux fur. The quality of the material is superior."

"As expected from an heir of a prestigious family name."

They fired questions at him, drowning his protests.

"I can't believe such…such uncivilised behaviour!" Atobe roared, snatching away his cloak from their grasps. He planted himself further from the regulars, face contorted with overt disgust. "Dare your fetid hands taint my clothes again, it's off with your head."

Whoever the Hyotei captain was cosplaying – if that indeed was his intention – he's awfully in-character. Commendable effort. Akemi gave him five stars out of five.

"My sincere apologies, Atobe-san," Yukimura smiled ruefully; he and an irate vice-captain alone didn't participate in the fun. He bowed his head in a humble gesture. "On behalf of the tennis club, I request that you overlook my teammates' behaviour. They are simply captivated by your outfit." He turned to address the whole club. "Atobe-san is a guest. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. If you're finished with the food, please clean up after yourself. You're all free to return home. Have a good weekend."

His tone left no room for argument. The crowds dispersed around them, picking up the clamour of chatters and tomfoolery where they left off.

"Fine," Atobe smirked. "I will disregard their deplorable attitude. Taking this matter to heart, I'm not a petty person."

To Akemi, he's petty every waking moment of his life.

"You're petty every waking moment of your life," Sanada sniffed in disdain. "No need to blow your trumpet. It ain't news to us."

Atobe shot back a contemptuous sneer. The two rivals were locking horns in a blink of an eye; a dark vortex of sparks seemed to whirl and dance around them.

"That escalated quickly," mumbled Jackal, as Niou and Kirihara cheered on their vice-captain.

While the rivals spent the better moments of their lives outglaring each other, Marui sidled up to Akemi and slung a heavy arm across her shoulders. "Hey, Akemi-chan, hear this – something amazing happened today! Want to know what it is?"

"No," came the curt reply.

"Oh, you and your jokes," Marui guffawed. "Jackal, here, was super popular with the girls!"

"So I've read on Twitter. By the way, do you mind –"

"And it's all thanks to you!"

"Huh?"

Grinning ear to ear, Marui the monthly magazine in front of her nonplussed expression. On the cover was an image of the regulars posing for the Valentine's Day special issue.

At the redhead's insistence, Akemi reluctantly took the magazine.

"Check page 12. White box at the bottom."

Thinking nothing about the yelp, or the fact Winchester had tried to take a bite off Marui's ears, Akemi flipped to the indicated page. "Oh, this is…"

"You didn't pick up a copy?" asked Kirihara, turning away from the ongoing nonverbal spar between the vice-captain and Hyotei's captain.

"They sold out fast this morning," said Yanagi.

Why bother? It's not like she wasn't monitoring the regulars' interviews and photoshoots. Anyway, "1200 yen is a rip-off." Her dour opinion garnered a few chuckles.

"What's all this fuss about?"

Akemi looked up at the harassed-sounding voice. Judging by the looks of things, his little spar with Sanada had reached a stalemate.

Atobe stormed over to her, boots clicking angrily, and came to a halt at her shoulder. He'd overheard the loud redhead and the gibberish talk piqued his interest. He glanced down, arching an eyebrow at the magazine in Akemi's grasps.

Unexciting charts, interviews, and photos of Rikkai regulars plastered across the double-page spread… he skimmed over these frivolous details, and took in the white box.

He studied the unflattering picture of Akemi in the corner. She looked comically tense here, as if her bladder had an urgent need, but she couldn't find the right moment to excuse herself and resigned to the torment.

Atobe chuckled inwardly at the vivid image in his mind and moved on to read the text.

Tip of the Month

Helping us out with February's tip for high school students is Noda Akemi of class 2-B.

Perhaps best known for landing the role of manager to the boy's tennis club (a nonexistent position until last summer!), Miss Noda naturally captures the envy of every girl in Rikkai. Working with some of the school's hottest guys isn't a job for the faint-hearted and, having met the guys, we can definitely say she's a tough one if she can resist their charms. (Take note, boys!)

In line with this month's special theme, we asked her a simple question: Among the eight regulars, who possesses the most favourable traits that will send a girl's heart fluttering?

Turn to next page for a comprehensive analysis on this mysterious regular. Plus, his favourite movies, bands and hobbies. You might discover you're his ideal type. Woo him!

Without further ado, we reveal Miss Noda's choice. That regular is…

Kuwahara Jackal!

"Senpai! Akemi-senpai!" Urayama Shiita skidded to a halt before the group. "There's a… delivery… for you," he rasped between breaths, "... in front… clubhouse."

Delivery?

Akemi exchanged puzzled glances with the regulars. They were as clueless as her. She shrugged and turned to Urayama. "Please lead the way."

Atobe glanced at the magazine unwittingly placed in his care, pensive. A hint of disgust entered his countenance; the change was subtle, nobody noticed. He tossed the magazine back to the redhead like a worthless piece of junk, and pointedly turned his back on the Rikkai regulars.

Minutes later, a bemused Akemi returned carrying a basket of flowers in her hands.

"What's… this?" asked Sanada.

"Flowers."

Niou rolled his eyes. "Obviously."

"Someone sent it as a Valentine's gift."

The regulars instantly perked up.

"V-Valentine's?" Kirihara echoed. "From who?"

"I don't know," Akemi replied, gazing uncertainly at the flowers. "The guy from the florist said they're not allowed to 'disclose customer details'. He left a business card."

"May I have a look?" asked Yukimura. Taking the card, he discreetly flashed her a reassuring smile; he'd heard the unease in her voice. He examined the card. "This flower shop is one of several chains owned by a big botanical research centre in Japan. People can send flowers anonymously up and down the country through their online store."

"I've heard about that shop from anee-chan," Kirihara piped up. "It's a huge hit among office workers."

"An anonymous sender…" Yagyuu murmured.

Niou snickered. "Or a secret admirer."

"Hopefully not a stalker."

Yagyuu's casual comment sent alarms blaring in Sanada's head. The vice-captain sharply glanced over a perturbed Akemi. "Have you noticed anything strange recently?"

The girl flinched at his brusque tone. "No…"

"Genichiro, you're scaring her."

Reprimanded by Yanagi, the vice-captain turned a little red. "S-sorry."

Yagyuu crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully. "This mystery is rather intriguing." The detective in him was trembling with excitement behind his calm and collected façade. "I can't think of anyone in our year doing this kind of stuff. Cost is a huge factor. What do you think, Akemi-san? Oh… Akemi-san?"

Moments later.

"I… I wonder if this is a coincidence," she spoke, haltingly, and took in the blank expressions around her. "I love all kinds of flowers. But if you ask me to pick a favourite…" She lifted the basket. A sweet aroma with a hint of spice hit their senses, from the bouquet's centrepiece. "Hydrangea."

Purple hyacinth, Forget-me-not. I'm sorry, please remember me. Rather meticulous selections. Hydrangea had a host of meanings but they generally conveyed heartfelt emotions. A thought ticked inside Yukimura's mind. 'Her anonymous sender… can it be?'

"So it's a stalker!" Marui exclaimed.

"Or it could be someone who knows her well," Jackal guessed.

"Yukimura?"

The captain tittered, concealing his suspicion behind a smile. "I know Akemi-san adores flowers, but this is the first time I'm hearing about a favourite. Hydrangeas are much loved in Japan. They're summer flowers. A bouquet must have cost a lot."

"Oh, so now her stalker is a rich guy?"

Stalker, secret admirer, anonymous whatever. Who're they? What's their ulterior motive? How did they know where to find her? And the hydrangea on top of everything. Oh my goodness, please, not a stalker.

"Isn't it obvious?" Marui sighed in exasperation and gesticulated his hands theatrically. "This not-so-anonymous, not-so-secret-admirer rich guy is standing right in front of you, Akemi-chan."

Much to their bafflement, Akemi burst out laughing.

"Would you believe me, if I tell you Keigo-san has never given a bouquet to me once? Apart from that time I almost fell to my untimely death…" The humour faded into nothingness, as the unsettling thoughts returned to beguile her mind. "As far as I'm aware, I've never told anyone about my favourite flower."

"So we're back to square one," Yagyuu muttered.

The regulars talked among themselves, discussing the identity of her mysterious guy. The debate went back and forth without a hint of an outcome.

Unable to bear it any longer, Akemi broke away from the regulars. She placed a finger to her lips, silencing Winchester, and crept up to the Hyotei captain's side.

Atobe didn't seem to realise her presence. Come to think of it, he'd been uncharacteristically silent since she came back with the flowers. Akemi knew something serious was up if he's not flapping that mouth of his.

She gently touched his arm, bringing him back to his senses. Looking at her, she found herself drowning in those mesmerising blue pools. She shook her head and whispered, "Is something the matter?"

Something flickered behind his eyes. Before Akemi could grasp the meaning, he broke off the eye contact. "You're just imagining things."

XXX

14th February

Koishikawa Korakuen

The bouquet was lavish.

Too beautiful for words. Too big to hold in one hand.

How many flowers… how many types were stuffed inside the delicate wrapping paper?

"Are you going to stare until they wilt?"

Akemi gave a little jump at that voice. She chuckled sheepishly and wrapped her arms around the cumbrous bouquet. She's practically hugging it to her chest. "Thank you," she smiled timidly. "They're beautiful and the fragrance is lovely. However –"

Vexation flashed in those piercing blue eyes.

Akemi clamed up.

"Only a blithering idiot falls for an asinine marketing ploy," said Atobe, each cold word driving a knife through her heart. "Valentine's Day is from western culture. We're going to do it the proper way."

Dropping her gaze, she shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. She felt like a kid being scolded for wetting her bed. She'd never! Her stubborn streak flared up. "That's not what I want to say," she retorted.

"Regardless, we lingered too long." He pivoted sharply on his heels and, without a glance back, strode through the park gates.

Akemi stated after the retreating figure. White rose. Scabiosa. Just a single flower was enough for her.

Her chest heaved with a dismal sigh. "You didn't have to be harsh," she murmured and forced her legs to move.

Festival stalls were set up near the park's entrance, most in the midst of packing up for the day. Fussing over crates and whatnots, the vendors paid them no heed. Akemi and Atobe were the last visitors granted access to Koishikiwa Korakuen thirty minutes before closing time.

Perhaps Atobe had the right to throw a hissy fit.

Perhaps.

Atobe was taking her to a 'nice place' to commemorate Valentine's Day "in the proper way", instead of "falling for an asinine marketing ploy" like a "blithering idiot" would. Frankly, Akemi wasn't sure he'd carry out his plan – a surprise, as he'd teased her last weekend.

Following him from a distance, Akemi regarded his broad back with a conflicted expression. His grouchy attitude aside, something about the young man felt misplaced. Distant.

As though his mind was a universe away.

Earlier on the journey from her home to Tokyo, Akemi broached the subject in the Aston Martin. Atobe had dismissed her worries, snapped at her when she kept pushing for an answer.

They didn't speak much afterwards.

Akemi hugged the bouquet tighter at the chest, and forced one foot out after the next. She glanced around. The park was lit but the lightings couldn't be any dimmer. The place… quieter. Empty. Eerie.

The hair on the back of her neck rise. Her body shivered involuntarily. It wasn't exactly a cold night, and she's wrapped up nice and warm in her coat. Akemi tried to catch up with Atobe's longer strides. The bouquet was slowing her down.

A twig snapped under her left foot, startling her to a halt. Something burst from the bush beside her. It zipped past her feet in a dark blur and disappeared into the opposite foliage with a rustle of leaves.

Okay.

Home time.

"Akemi."

A very white face greeted Atobe.

Sighing exasperatedly, he turned around. "What am I going to do with you?" He plucked the bouquet from her arms and swung it over his shoulder, as if it weighed nothing.

What happened next took Akemi completely by surprise.

He grabbed one of her hand, lacing their fingers together in a firm hold, and forced her into walking beside him. He didn't rush her; an unexpected kind gesture.

As the initial shock subsided, Akemi caught a whiff of his cologne. The scent had a calming effect, easing the tension from her muscles. She looked down at their clasped hands. 'His hand is so big… warm.'

After a minute or two, Akemi was tentatively winding her hand around the crook of his arm at his instruction. Her body might have submitted itself, but her mind took no pleasure from the heavy silence wrapped around their little world.

She peeked at him out of the corner of her eyes.

Strong jawline, penetrating dark blue eyes and striking features, Atobe looked sharp as ever in his dark suit and impeccable groomed hair. He carried himself with a debonair manner, and Akemi couldn't help but think he looked rather mature if he kept his mouth shut. His ego could dwarf the far-reaching universe.

That same ego was stippled with unobtrusive, delicate spots. Push the right buttons to set him off.

Maybe… just maybe.

'Back at the gala,' Akemi reflected, 'Keigo-san was upset and didn't talk to me.'

At least she knew the reason.

Was it the bouquet? Did she upset him with that perfunctory comment? She honestly didn't mean to poke fun at him, but shouldn't have mentioned it either way. The interview? She promised Nakajima to keep it a secret in exchange for his credibility.

Was Atobe put out that she didn't think of persuading the interviewer into allowing her to pick someone outside Rikkai – namely him? The Hyotei captain would jump to his feet, declare himself the crème de la crème of personalities, while harping on about how he was unfazed by biased opinions of him in the same breath.

A voice broke through her thoughts.

"You don't visit parks often, do you? Instead of admiring your shoes, look up."

Up?

Fairy lights, wrapped around the slender boughs, bathed their figures and the small grove of plum blossom trees lining the path in an ethereal glow. This winter being unusually cold, the dainty flowers had yet appear in full force.

Nevertheless, Akemi was helplessly drawn into the charming view.

'This must be his surprise.' She peeked at her friend. There's that far-off gaze again. 'He's viewing the blossoms, but his mind isn't in it,' she pouted. 'Why bother coming here in the first place? I had enough.'

Stir up a conversation, find the right moment to confront him. After searching the vicinity, nothing came to mind.

It struck her.

"I'm surprised there aren't a lot of people about," said Akemi, as they wandered among the grove. "Isn't this a historical Japanese garden popular with tourists?"

Atobe's gaze flickered to her. "It's not peak viewing season at the moment."

Yes! A reply!

"Besides," he continued, "this being Saturday, most adults are spending the evening indoors. I'm sure there're a lot of activities going on as we speak."

"Lots of activities…" murmured Akemi, heat rising to the roots of her hair. That's not a lascivious innuendo, right? Right?

She was clutching at straws. However, she needed the Hyotei captain to let his guard down.

"H-how did the Plum Festival go?" The campus-wide event held exclusively for Hyotei students to celebrate Valentine's Day, the end of winter, and in honour of the kind-hearted regular. Atobe single-handedly organised it, and once discussed his plans with Akemi for her opinion. "Did Ootori-san handle the surprise well?" she prompted.

"Hm, good."

That good answered both questions, Akemi realised belatedly…

…a minute later.

'Urgh, I had to get my hopes up. I want to go home,' she thought, despondently. Her parents were holidaying in Kofu before university exams bound her father to his desk. 'I finally have the house to myself and this happens.'

It finally dawned on her.

What if?

'He's been up since early morning at Hyotei.' He'd been planning the festival for weeks. 'Maybe he's tired.'

Akemi's tired.

Between chores, lunch outing with the regulars, and two painstaking hours of history under Yanagi's strict tutelage at the public library, she hadn't a chance to put her feet up. Plus three nights of labouring over the tennis club's cakes, her vigour was stretched to the limit.

Oh!

Atobe was giving her a weird look.

Oops, she must have said it out loud. Never mind. More importantly. "Keigo-san, can we stop?"

Dark blue eyes narrowed. The arm under her hand slackened.

Akemi took her cue to slip away from his side. She lowered her bag's strap from her shoulder and rummage inside. An "Aha!" escaped her. It was wrapped in midnight blue glossy paper and adorned with a white ribbon.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Keigo-san!" she chirruped, holding out the present towards a speechless Atobe.

The Hyotei captain glanced from the present to the smiling noirette. Present. Noirette. Present. Back to the noirette.

For a heart-wrenching moment, Akemi thought he wasn't going to take it and mentally prepared herself for the rejection.

"Thank you."

Akemi couldn't believe her ears, as the long fingers wrapped around the present. Slowly, she let go and a large grin spread across her features. "My pleasure! Go ahead and open it. I won't mind."

Atobe jerked his head in the direction of a bench.

Heart fluttering with unbridled joy, Akemi followed him to the bench and settled down comfortably beside him. Atobe set the bouquet down and pulled the present onto his lap. He began to peel the wrappings apart.

Closer and closer.

'Oh my, it's like Christmas came early.' She suppressed a giggle and watched those skilful hands worked their magic. Despite the uncertainty of him showing up, the noirette had spent the remaining afternoon in the kitchen. She was so wrapped up in Atobe's strange behaviour, it slipped from her mind.

The rich chocolate aroma hit their senses.

Placing the lid aside, Atobe randomly picked a slice of caramel brownie, his favourite among her creations (pending acknowledgment). He examined the crown-shaped brownie with a tiny hint of amusement playing on his features.

Akemi hoped it wasn't pretentious of her, but there was no way she could use heart-shaped cookie cutters.

"Are you hungry?"

Flustered, she jerked back with a start, throwing her hands up. "No, no, no. You eat it, Keigo-san! It's your present, after all," she laughed sheepishly. She was practically encroaching his personal space when he caught her. She wasn't aware of it herself until then. 'Urgh, how embarrassing.'

Atobe shrugged and popped the brownie into his mouth. One after the other, the bottom of the box was gradually being emptied. He would be making scathing remarks about her baking by now – something like the vulgar tastes of inferior ingredients – while shamelessly polishing them off.

An impostor.

This reticent Atobe Keigo… an impostor.

Crestfallen, Akemi sunk back in her seat and lifted her eyes to the plum blossoms overhead. If plum fairies really do exist… please, she wanted nothing more than his over-the-top manners back.

Another thought crossed her mind. Maybe Atobe's problems was too personal, which poorly explained his hush-hush manner but seemed increasingly plausible the deeper she dwelled on it.

But.

Wheedling sensitive or private information, Akemi wasn't upfront unlike the two captains of Rikkai and Hyotei. Delving into these matters would put her ill at ease. Hah… How pathetic. She knew what to do but couldn't liberate her friend's worries – or whatever's incarcerating 99.9% of his thoughts –without scrupling a little.

Even so…

She wanted to stay by his side.

She would stay put.

That's the least she could do.

Hmm?

Akemi glanced down when she felt his elbows brushing against hers. Actually the gap between them was near-nonexistent, she could feel the warmth of his body where their arms met. Funnily, the thought of pulling away never surfaced.

She relaxed into the warmth, feeling her body growing heavier… her mind fuzzier. 'Is there… anything… I can do to… help him?' she pondered, drifting to and fro consciousness.

A gentle breeze caressed her face. Warm, tenuous fingers pirouetted through her black tresses. The warmth pressed on her forehead, spreading soothing sensations throughout her body, coaxing her with a tantalising view of a trouble-free world. There was a hint of something nice in the air that the chocolate aroma couldn't mask.

Something nice.

Something old and familiar.

She felt safe.

"You're safe here," the breeze whispered softly into her ear.

Akemi obediently closed her eyes and slipped into the arms of darkness.

Erm... I know I said this will be posted within the next few days in the last chapter. It wasn't my intention to delay the update, but I got a bit carried away with editing this chapter. Added and tweaked several bits. Hopefully, you've enjoyed it. Let me know your thoughts!

To the beautiful Unknown: Thank you for the lovely message! I'll try my best to update less irregularly. If you're on Tumblr, you can follow my blog for updates. Just search Suzumehime02.

To everyone: Thank you for reading and see you next chapter! :)