Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, they belong to Takeshi Konomi. If I did though, there would be a FEW MORE hints of Ryoma and Sakuno's canon-ness. 3

A/N: SUPER EDITED. I scrapped the whole story and changed it, 'cause the earlier one was so crappy. Still the same topic though.

ENJOY THE HOLIDAYS! With much LOVE,

KenRik

White Day

Because the girls get bitchy without it.

It was White day tomorrow. The ever accursed day wherein the male population begrudgingly return several sweet(monstrous) advances from females they didn't even know existed.

Well, at least, this was how Ryoma Echizen, resident tennis prodigy, bluntly puts it.

So, glaring along the sidewalks with every step as heavy and as reluctant as the few steps he's already taken seconds before, Ryoma fumed when he reached the flower shop Tomoka Osakada had suggested for him to visit. You know… for the flowers and whatnot.

Because there, right outside the glass frames of the shop, was a hoard of adoring Ryoma fans. How he knew? Well, when one gets this I-might-get-trampled-on-or-killed-today-by-my-raving-lunatic-fans feeling, one ought to know who and what to steer clear of.

So, turning about as slowly as he could, he smirked, all ready to dash away and far.

"Ryoma-kun?"

Damn it.

Heads turned.

Ryoma looked back in fright.

He could swear he saw more than one deadly glint on the eyes of his on looking fans.

"Are you going to buy flowers?"

Ryoma slowly looked straight ahead; towards the sweet sounding voice. He was afraid of making any movement at all that would serve as a catalyst to his untimely death.

So, Ryoma simply nodded stiffly in reply. And although he was facing the fucking speaker who caught his cover and threw it to the wolves, his eyes never left the crowd of ready-to-attack fans.

"Really?" The voice practically beamed. And of course, went unnoticed by the I'm-too-young-to-die-because-of-my-fans tennis prince.

And if Ryoma was looking at her, the sweet sounding speaker right there in front of him, he would've noticed the gleaming smile on her face. The blush on her cheeks. And the little red rose she held gently; with the most care.

"Yeah. Yes, really." Ryoma suddenly snapped and cursed, finally entering the cursed shop. And while doing so, several lingering sighs of bliss could be heard dancing along with the wind.

"So, what'll it be, you little lovah boy?" Grinned a suave enough lady shopkeeper, gesturing at the pack of girls outside her shop. Ryoma's gaze followed the gesture and, in an instant, stopped.

His eyes froze over at the girl with hazel eyes. The girl with a small glittering smile. The girl with the little red rose. The girl who was leaving with an absolute stranger.

A guy, nonetheless.

Ryoma froze on spot.

Suddenly, for the first time, he didn't hear the high-pitched squealing of his fan girls. Nor the imprudent remarks of the unlady-like lady shopkeeper.

Because for the first time, it was his heart that clenched.

Who was that guy?

Why was she with him?

Did he give her that rose?

Were they dating?

For how long now?

Why didn't she tell me?

Didn't she like me anymore?

Why him?

Why not me?

Why do I even care?

Do I like her?

"What the hell's wrong with me?" Ryoma suddenly blurted out. The eyebrow of the shopkeeper staring him down quirked in interest.

"I don't know." She smirked. "You tell me." She laughed.

Ryoma left the shop that day with thirty-three yellow roses, packed and ready to be handed around.

And all-in-all, there were thirty-three fans, thirty-two girls and a guy, who died that day heading up to the skies above after receiving a rose and an uncaring grunt from the school celebrity.

But Ryoma, God's gift to more than those thirty-three fans, sat on his desk, unmoving.

Amidst all the love that thirty-three fans showered him, none of that could sum up to that one girl.

That one with the hazel eyes that shone brighter than others.

That one with the long auburn hair, now trimmed and held with a high pony tail.

That one with the smile that shone independently, not anymore in the past's silly shyness.

That one girl, with that one guy, laughing; walking along the corridors with the same step.

Ryoma sighed on his desk as he closed his eyes.

He could only wish this was just a phase.

TBC

I'll be editing a lot more stories from this lot. And from my other lot of stories. And YES, because I have nothing better to do... okay, so maybe I do, like school work and whatnot- but seriously, WHO wants to do THAT on the HOLIDAYS? WHO?

With MUCH more love than before,

KenRik.

Mainly because you read the story again- AND reviewed.

Enjoy the holidays!