It was their graduation party—the last celebration of high school and to some extent their childhoods. After this the students would scatter to college, trade school, real jobs, and, of course, an international tennis career. As part of teenage tradition, the punch had been spiked to fuel the celebration and stave off the melancholy of the unknown. Some students, namely one Sakuno Ryuzaki, were unaccustomed to alcohol and ignorant of its presence. After only two drinks, Sakuno was bouncing. Her mouth was running like it had years of catch up homework to accomplish in one night. She zipped from classmate to classmate administering praise and adoration while reminiscing on shared experiences throughout their school years. Everyone laughed and patted her head lovingly but never seized an opportunity to stop her drinking as she quickly flittered on to the next person. That was how Sakuno got to the point of four glasses of punch in and unable to keep walking in a straight line.

"She is living up to her wobbly hips," Ryoma gestured towards Sakuno and Horio turned. Not more than a second later, Sakuno tripped and sent herself sprawling to the floor covered in red punch.

"Oh no!" Horio shouted. He, too, had consumed quite a lot of punch but handled it far better than Sakuno and rushed to her side without incident.

"Sakuno! Sakuno, are you alright?" Horio helped Sakuno to her feet. Ryoma had conveniently followed Horio and picked up the fallen cup to stack underneath his own before she could trip on something else.

"I feel funnnnny," Sakuno giggled in a long, happy voice. She attempted to brush off Horio's hand but nearly fell again in the process

"I should get you home," Horio stated worriedly. "I think you had too much punch."

"Yes but no," a voice interrupted as Tomoka slyly slid to join the group. "Horio, I want you to come dance with me."

"Tomoka?" Horio said shocked. It was obvious he had had a crush on Tomoka since middle school and yearned to dance with her as this might be his last chance to win her over. "But Sakuno?"

"Ryoma will take her home." Tomoka turned towards the stoic man she generally considered a friend, "I know you don't really like these events, Ryoma. Plus, Sakuno's house is on your way home."

Ryoma looked from Horio's pleading eyes to Sakuno's drunk face and agreed, "Hn, I will take her."

"You're the best! I owe you," Horio exclaimed and replaced Ryoma's punch cups with Sakuno's arm.

Tomoka whispered something into Sakuno's ear making the girl blush then said, "Take care of her, Ryoma," before dragging Horio away with a smirk on her face.

Ryoma turned to Sakuno, "Let's go."

"Ok," she agreed and Ryoma began to led her out of the school. "I got to say my goodbyes to everyone except you. I don't know if I was saving you until last or simply too scared to say goodbye. You're leaving on Monday, right?" Ryoma nodded his head and Sakuno continued rambling, "It's amazing you already qualified for the Prime tour. You are going to be a star, Ryoma. You will shine brightest in the sky." Sakuno pulled her hand away to make an exaggeration gesture in the air but her coordination and timing failed. She stumbled on the school steps crashing down hard onto her knees. "Agh!"

"Mada mada dane," Ryoma sighed as he sadly observed his drunk classmate with skinned knees and wearing a dress splattered in spiked punch. She met his eyes and tears burst.

"Sor-rry," Sakuno said sloppily after a dozen sobs, "I just realized I might never hear that again."

Ryoma bent down in front of Sakuno and said practically, "My parents aren't leaving. We may see each other again."

"Please promise me," Sakuno bit her lip and demanded, "promise me we will see each other again."

"I promise," Ryoma said without a thought. He believed it inevitable. Sakuno had been a constant in his life for the last eight years and as far as he was concerned that was how it would stay. She was, after all, the least annoying girl he knew and made delicious lunches. He would miss those on tour. "Can you walk?"

Sakuno nodded and allowed Ryoma to pull her to her feet. However, after just two steps she swayed on the verge of tripping once more.

"Your hips are too wobbly and you had too much to drink, get on." Ryoma stepped in front of Sakuno and lowered to a squat. Sakuno did not protest and hopped on.

"I'm sorry Ryoma."

"It's fine," he said in a plain voice as he carried her home. It was strangely comforting to have Sakuno's hot breath on his neck and her arms and legs encircling him.

"Why did someone put alcohol in the punch?"

"Hn."

"Someone could have said something. It's my first time having alcohol; I felt amazing for a while but I don't think I like it anymore. Did you have any?"

"Yes."

"But, you're not being weird; you're the same Ryoma. You must be more experienced or better at hiding it," Sakuno joked and Ryoma did not respond. The rest of the walk home was much the same. Sakuno prattled on about random topics and Ryoma occasionally responded to direct questions. Only when they were a block from Sakuno's house did Ryoma initiate a question of his own mostly for self perseverance.

"Is coach home?"

"No," Sakuno said sadly "she went to visit mom."

Ryoma decided not to ask further questions. It was the first time he recalled hearing Sakuno mention one of her parents and he did not want to dive in to personal matters in her current state.

When Ryoma reached the front door he set Sakuno down and she rummaged around in her coat pocket until she finally produced a small, gold key attached to a tennis racket keychain. She stuck it into the lock, opened the door, walked over the threshold, and then tripped on her face.

"You get to hear it again, mada mada dane," Ryoma sighed as he helped Sakuno get up. "I better make sure you don't break your neck before you reach your bed."

"Thank you," Sakuno said taking his offered hand to walk up to her bedroom. It was the first time Ryoma had been inside her room and he was honestly surprised at what he saw. Not only were there pictures of famous tennis stars but the walls had been completely covered in an arrangement of sketches. He had no idea Sakuno had any talent in art. She certainly had not told anyone about it...or maybe he had not been listening.

Ryoma was so distracted by the drawings that he let go of Sakuno's hand and went to examine them closer. "These are really good," he finally said examining a sketch of a young man on a tennis count serving.

"Thanks," Sakuno replied softly, "They weren't good enough for my top choice but I still got into a good school."

"Hn?"

"Art school. That's where I'm going in the spring."

"Really," Ryoma said genuinely surprised. "I assumed you were going to do something with cooking. Be a chef or work at a bakery."

"No," Sakuno let out a nervous giggle, "cooking is for me and those I care about. I don't want it to be my profession—it might take the fun out of it. Some of us have more than one hobby, Ryoma."

Ryoma felt attacked. Not in an aggressive way, but more akin to bruised surprised that Sakuno was judging him. He turned to defend his single minded focus on tennis but the words caught in his throat.

"Sakuno! What are you doing? You can't change in front of a man," he shouted with his mouth agape. Sakuno was standing only in her underwear and bra. She held a nightgown in her hand but did not move any faster to put it on after Ryoma's reaction. Rather, the alcohol made her bold and she simply looked at Ryoma with a steady, narrowed stare.

"You're not a man, you're just Ryoma," Sakuno stated clearly. "You've had six years in which I'd happily take my clothes off for you—or maybe just one or two in high school—if you didn't take advantage of that before I doubt you ever would."

Ryoma's mouth dropped. This was not what he expected her to say even with liquid courage in her veins. Taking a step back he assessed Sakuno. She was not the young girl he had first met on the bus. She was taller, bustier, and those wobbly hips had turned into perfectly positioned curves. He had vaguely noticed her become a woman and heard other classmates talking about sexy Ryūzaki, but it never really clicked for him until that moment. His heart did a ping and hormones rolled through his body. He flexed to stomp down his reaction and blamed the minor alcohol in his system for his lack of control. He was attracted to her and not hiding it.

"Ryoma, you're staring at me?" Sakuno said with interest. She had not faltered a step from her place across the room but somehow she seemed closer. Ryoma recognized he had been the one to take a few steps nearer.

"I better go," there was something foreign in Ryoma's voice that both he and Sakuno were shocked by.

Emboldened from a heart flaring with old, repressed feelings Sakuno walked to Ryoma. She grabbed his sleeve lightly and said, "If you want, you can stay."

Ryoma looked from her head to the plead in her eyes and was suddenly overwhelmed by something he had only heard others speak about. He felt longing and passion. He let his inhibitions fly away and finally began to act like a real teenage boy with a half-dressed woman in front of him. He placed his lips on Sakuno's and kissed her. It was not practiced nor skilled, but it did take her breath away. It was Ryoma and that was everything she wanted and more. Then, he kissed the edge of her jaw, her ear, her neck and she nearly squealed.

Sakuno dropped her nightgown and wrapped her hands around Ryoma's neck feeling the softness of his dark, green hair. After some time they navigated to the bed, pushing aside childhood plushies in favor of new, adult pleasures. This was Sakuno's dream—Ryoma was her dream and they stumbled through it all together.

Sakuno awoke to rustle and a soft clink of metal. She opened her eyes and saw Ryoma putting on his belt. For a split second she was in shock that Ryoma was standing in her bedroom then she remembered the events of the previous night. She regretted nothing but could not stop the flush that broke out across her face and chest. Embarrassedly, she rearranged the sheets so they were covering her body.

"Ryoma?" she asked unsurely.

Ryoma looked over at her with a confused look on his face that caused her immediate worry. "My mom called. I need to get home."

"Oh," Sakuno said unsurely.

Ryoma zipped his jacket and said, "I'll see you soon, Sakuno," before walking out the door. Sakuno did not even have time to say goodbye. And, unless his definition of "soon" was vastly different than her own, Ryoma lied. They were not to see each other for another six years.

Review if you feel so inclined. It is appreciated no matter how simple the feedback.