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[sorato00]

RYOSAKU Fanfic: 15-Love, 1st Heartbeat

Can read them in fanfiction and AO3 😊

https://archive.transformativeworks.org/works/65399887/chapters/172897204

Chapter 28: First Training

Ryoma stared at his father, disbelief clear on his face. “Why should I?” he said, scowling. “You’re the one who agreed to that old hag.”

The words came out sharper than he meant. His frustration at Nanjiro’s trickery, the lingering embarrassment from earlier, and the chaos of his own tangled emotions all boiled over at once.

At that moment, Sakuno looked up, eyes wide, and saw the tension crackling between them. She immediately shook her head, voice soft but steady despite the sting she felt.

“I-it’s okay,” she said quickly, bowing slightly. “We can cancel. I’m so sorry that my grandmother made such a selfish request. I don’t want to trouble anyone…”

Her words, full of sincerity and apology, hit harder than any of Nanjiro’s teasing ever could.

Ryoma and Nanjiro both froze.

Nanjiro’s eyes narrowed, and he slammed his palm on the table, making the cups rattle. “How dare you make a girl say that and look so sad!” he barked at Ryoma. “Is this how I raised you?!”

“Really, I’m okay,” Sakuno said quickly, trying to smooth things over, though her cheeks were still warm and her heart ached a little.

Ryoma looked at her—really looked at her this time. The way she tried to put others first, even when she was the one being let down. The way her eyes shimmered with worry, not for herself, but for him.

His guilt hit him square in the chest.

“…Tch.” He exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Sakuno blinked. “Eh?”

“I’ll coach you,” Ryoma muttered, avoiding both their gazes. “Let’s just… get it over with.”

Nanjiro grinned in triumph, clapping his son hard on the back. “That’s my son! I knew you had it in you!”

Ryoma sighed, resigned to his fate, while Sakuno lowered her head politely, though a tiny, hopeful smile touched her lips.

“Thank you… Ryoma-kun.”

Ryoma’s heart gave that annoying thump again—but this time, he didn’t bother trying to deny it.

The midday sun filtered softly through the trees as Ryoma and Sakuno walked the narrow path behind the Echizen house, their footsteps crunching on gravel. The quiet was broken only by the occasional chirp of birds and the faint breeze rustling the leaves.

After a few minutes, the path opened up to a clearing near the old temple grounds. There, nestled between moss-covered stones and weathered wooden fences, was a simple tennis court—a bit aged, but still perfectly usable, the lines faded but clear.

Sakuno stopped at the edge, her eyes wide in wonder. “Wow… I never thought there was a court here…” she said softly, taking in the peaceful surroundings.

Ryoma glanced at her, watching the way her face lit up as she looked around, her smile gentle, full of genuine amazement.

It was that smile.

The one from his dreams—the one that had been haunting him night after night, in soft white dresses and blush-colored skies.

His chest tightened, and he quickly tore his gaze away, as if looking too long might drag him back into those thoughts. He shook his head, trying to clear the image.

“Are you okay, Ryoma-kun?” Sakuno’s voice pulled him back. She tilted her head slightly, concern in her eyes.

Ryoma blinked, caught off guard, then forced a small smirk. “I’m fine,” he said, though his voice came out a little too quick. He grabbed his racket, turning toward the court. “Let’s start now.”

Sakuno nodded and knelt by her bag at the side of the court, unzipping it carefully. From inside, she drew out a red racket—its frame still sleek though slightly worn, the grip darkened from use and time.

The moment Ryoma’s eyes fell on it, he felt a strange jolt of familiarity. His gaze sharpened, and he tilted his head slightly, as if trying to place where he’d seen it before.

“That racket…” he said quietly, frowning in thought.

Sakuno cradled it gently, smiling as she stood. “You still remember it?”

Ryoma blinked. “Huh?”

“You gave it to me,” Sakuno said, voice soft, touched with fondness. “When we were in junior high.”

Ryoma froze. His mind flickered back—those days at Seigaku, the girl who’d always watched him shyly from the sidelines, the moment when he’d handed over one of his rackets.

He stared at the red frame. That’s right… why did I give her one of my rackets? The memory was hazy, but the gesture lingered.

“You said,” Sakuno continued, a blush rising to her cheeks, “that you wanted to give it to me because I gave you tennis balls back then.”

Ryoma’s brows lifted, surprised by her clear memory—and his own half-forgotten one. “It’s been so long… you never changed it?”

Sakuno hugged the racket to her chest, her voice barely above a whisper. “This racket is special…”

Ryoma felt the words hit him unexpectedly hard. His heart gave a quiet, annoying thump. He stared at her, stunned.

Then Sakuno’s blush deepened as she realized how it sounded. “I-I mean… it feels like I’ll do well… like you… when I use this racket.”

She fumbled a little, trying to recover. “Don’t worry! I always bring it to Haritatsu-san, and he says this racket can still be used just fine.”

Ryoma let out a small breath, looking at her in a new light. The sight of her holding that old racket, the earnest way she spoke—it stirred something in him that no amount of cold water or logic could wash away.

“…I see,” he said quietly, his usual smirk absent, replaced by something softer. “Then let’s see how you do with it today.”

Sakuno nodded, determined but flustered, gripping the red racket tightly as she stepped onto the court.

Ryoma stood at the baseline, bouncing a tennis ball lightly against the strings of his racket. His eyes, usually half-lidded and cool, were focused now—not with the sharpness of a match, but with curiosity.

“Don’t be tense,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I just want to see your form today.”

Sakuno tightened her grip on the red racket, trying to still the fluttering in her chest. She gave a small nod. “O-okay.”

With a smooth motion, Ryoma tossed the ball up and sent it over the net with a controlled forehand—nothing too fast, just enough to start.

Sakuno moved instinctively, eyes on the ball. Her footwork, while not perfect, was sure. She met the ball with a clean stroke, sending it back across the net.

Ryoma’s eyes widened just a fraction. She’s not wobbling.

He remembered vividly—six years ago, the girl who had shaky legs and stiff shoulders whenever she played tennis, so nervous she could barely hold her racket steady.

But now… she was different.

He sent another ball, a bit faster this time.

Sakuno adjusted, her braid swaying as she returned it. Her stance wasn’t flawless, but she stayed balanced, moving with a quiet determination that surprised him.

They continued the rally, the soft thock thock of the ball filling the quiet court.

Ryoma, intrigued now, began to increase his pace bit by bit. Each shot carried more speed, a touch more spin.

Let’s see where her limit is.

But Sakuno stayed with him. Her face was flushed, breath quickening, but she kept meeting the ball, adjusting, trying her best.

Ryoma smirked without realizing it, a spark of genuine respect flickering in his gaze. She’s improved a lot.

Sakuno, focused on the ball, didn’t notice the way he was looking at her—but for Ryoma, the match had already changed.

This might actually be interesting.

After a solid rally that left both of them lightly sweating, Ryoma caught the ball and lowered his racket. He jerked his chin toward the bench near the fence. “Let’s take a break.”

Sakuno nodded, brushing back a few strands of hair sticking to her cheek. They both sat, catching their breath in the quiet afternoon air.

Ryoma leaned back, elbows resting on his knees, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “You’re not bad.”

Sakuno looked at him in surprise, then lowered her gaze modestly, cheeks pink. “I still… mada mada dane,” she said softly, echoing the words he’d always said.

That made Ryoma actually smile—a small, genuine curve of his lips that he didn’t even try to hide. “Heh.”

After a sip from his water bottle, he pointed toward her racket hand. “Your grip’s a little too tight when you’re on the backhand. Makes your recovery slower. And your stance—if you open up more, you’ll move better for wide shots.”

Sakuno listened intently, nodding, her eyes bright with focus. She soaked up every word like it was gold.

Then, after a small pause, she glanced at him, gathering her courage. “Um… Ryoma-kun… can I ask you something?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Why won’t you join the tournament?”

Ryoma looked out over the court, expression unreadable for a moment. “I just don’t feel like it.” His voice was quiet but certain. “No drive right now.”

Sakuno opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it, respecting his answer.

Ryoma stood, stretching. “Let’s meet at another court tomorrow. This one’s kinda small for real drills.”

Sakuno smiled. “Okay. Thank you, Ryoma-kun.”

As she reached for her bag, her eyes lit up as if remembering something. “Oh! Actually… I made cookies. I never thought you would be the one to coach me, so I wasn’t sure if I should bring them out…”

She shyly held out a small container.

Ryoma blinked, then took one, biting into it without hesitation. The taste brought back memories—the same soft sweetness as before.

“…It’s good. Like always,” he said simply.

Sakuno’s heart fluttered, her blush deepening. “T-thank you…”

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of mischievous eyes watched from afar.

“Well, well…” Nanjiro muttered, peeking from behind a tree with a smirk. “So she’s the girl who’s been making him all upside down these days.”

Beside him, Rinko peeked too, curious. “Really?”

“Told you,” Nanjiro said, crossing his arms. “He’s got girl problems. The boy’s at that age.”

As Ryoma and Sakuno packed up, unaware of their audience, the sun dipped lower, casting soft gold over the court—a promise of more awkward, sweet moments to come.

After their practice ended, Sakuno returned home with Sumire, her cheeks still warm from the day’s events. She quietly smiled as she glanced out the car window, fingers unconsciously gripping the handle of her red racket.

Meanwhile, at the Echizen household, night had fallen, and the house was wrapped in a calm hush. In his room, Ryoma sat on the edge of his bed, packing his tennis bag for tomorrow.

He reached into one of the side compartments and pulled out two old tennis balls, worn but carefully stored. One had a tiny chibi version of his own face drawn on it with marker. The other read, in neat handwriting:

“National No. 1”

Ryoma stared at them for a moment, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

These… he remembered. Sakuno gave him those before he left for the U.S… back in junior high.

She had stood nervously at the airport, coming late, fumbling with her words, her braid swinging as she handed them to him.

He gently placed the balls back and reached into another pocket. As he pulled his hand out, a metal pin button clinked softly as it fell onto the floor.

He picked it up.

It was a cute design—a cat that looked suspiciously like Karupin, holding a tennis ball, with a blue background. The colors were faded, and the pin at the back was bent, no longer usable.

Ryoma stared at it.

This was…

Memory struck him clearly.

Six years ago, in a market in the U.S.—he was walking through with his cap low over his eyes, alone, focused only on tennis. Then, like a glitch in his routine, she appeared in front of him.

Sakuno, surprised and delighted to see him. She was there on holiday with her parents.

They talked awkwardly—brief, polite—and just before parting, she handed him the cat badge, saying it reminded her of him. He had accepted it with his usual blank face, and he used it on his bag until the pin broke.

And yet… he never threw it away.

He rubbed the metal gently with his thumb.

“She really has given me a lot of things…” he murmured to himself, not just thinking of objects—but support, memories, small moments that stayed.

Suddenly, a familiar, teasing voice echoed in his mind.

Inui's voice: “Deep down, you like her, don’t you?”

Ryoma flinched a little and clicked his tongue, shoving the button into the side pouch of his bag again.

He lay back on his bed, one arm draped over his forehead as the weight of the day settled over him. His heart still quietly thumping. The room was quiet except for the faint rustling of Karupin shifting in his corner bed.

Suddenly, Ryoma blinked and sat up slightly, a frown forming.

“…I forgot to tell her which court we’re meeting at.”

He reached over to the small table beside his bed and grabbed his phone. The screen lit up in the dim room as he unlocked it, his thumb hovering for a moment before he tapped on his messaging app.

He scrolled down, searching for Ryuzaki Sakuno.

When he opened their chat, his eyes paused.

The last message they’d exchanged was months ago.

After that whole fake relationship thing ended... they just kind of stopped texting.

Ryoma stared at the screen a little longer than necessary, remembering those awkward moments, the shift in their closeness, the unspoken distance that had grown between them.

Now, after everything—the dream, the surprise coaching job, her cookies, her smile on the court—it all felt strangely full-circle.

He took a quiet breath and began typing:

"Meet me at the court near the train station tomorrow."

He read it once, then hit send.

The message slid up with a soft “whoosh,” and Ryoma let the phone drop beside him with a sigh.

He turned his head toward the window, where moonlight cast long shadows across the floor.

For some reason, his chest felt heavier than usual.

He closed his eyes.

And for once, his dreams were quiet.

The night was calm in the Ryuzaki household. After dinner and a light chat with her grandmother, Sakuno sat at her desk, brushing the last bit of sweat from her forehead after drying her hair. Her red racket leaned against the wall near her bed, and the small container that once held cookies sat empty beside her.

She was about to turn off her desk lamp when her phone buzzed quietly.

She blinked and reached for it, wondering who would text this late.

When she saw the sender’s name—Echizen Ryoma—her heart gave an unexpected flutter.

Quickly, she opened the message:

“Meet me at the court near the train station tomorrow.”

Just one sentence. Simple. Direct.

And yet it brought a slow, blooming warmth to her cheeks.

Sakuno smiled to herself, clutching the phone lightly with both hands.

She sat for a moment, holding the feeling close, before her fingers began to move over the screen.

“Okay. I’ll be there. Thank you again, Ryoma-kun.”

She hit send before she could overthink it. Then she hugged her phone close to her chest, lying back on the bed with a soft sigh.

The silence of the night wrapped around her, but she didn’t feel alone.

[sorato00]

Another of my RyoSaku fanfiction 🥰🥰

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65399887/chapters/168750499

Chapter 13: Close Quarters

Ryoma wandered down the hallway, glancing at the signs on each door until he found the one labeled Baking Club. He hesitated for a second, then opened it.

Inside, the scent of vanilla and warm sugar filled the air. Sakuno Ryuzaki stood near a counter, wearing a light pink apron, her hair tied back in a neat ponytail. She looked up, eyes lighting up as she smiled.

"Ryoma-kun, you're here," she said warmly.

"Yeah," Ryoma replied, stepping inside.

"You can sit over there," she gestured to a small table near the window. "Just wait a minute, okay?"

Ryoma took a seat, watching her move quickly around the kitchen area. She looked a little flustered but focused.

She glanced over at him, a little apologetic. "I'm sorry," she said as she measured ingredients. "I'm trying to help with a new recipe the Baking Club is working on, but something still feels... off. They said it’s missing something."

Ryoma gave a small nod, resting his chin on his hand as he watched her. “Take your time,” he said simply.

He then pulled out his notebook and pen from his bag, flipping to the page with their group assignment notes. He scanned through the outline they'd discussed in library and started jotting down a few points, his handwriting quick and precise.

A few minutes later, Sakuno wiped her hands on her apron and walked over with a small sigh.

"Sorry for the wait," she said softly, taking the seat beside him. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

Ryoma shook his head. "It’s fine. I almost finish this one."

She leaned in a little to look at his notes, her shoulder brushing lightly against his. “You’re really fast, Ryoma-kun…”

He didn’t look up, but his pen paused for a second. “You were busy. I didn’t want to waste time.”

Sakuno smiled, a little flustered but touched. She opened her notebook and flipped to a neatly written page filled with bullet points and diagrams. She placed it gently between them.

“I actually worked on some parts last night,” she said shyly, glancing at him. “I’ve already done most of the research and drafted the introduction and conclusion. There’s just a bit left—the middle section with your analysis. Once that’s in, we can finalize it and email it to Professor Asano.”

Ryoma blinked, looking over her notes. Her handwriting was careful and clean, the kind that was easy to read. He scanned her draft and gave a small nod of approval.

“…You did all this already?” he asked, eyes still on the page.

Sakuno tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, blushing. “I didn’t want to bother you. So I thought I’d just… get a head start. Plus, you already gave me the complete information I could use.”

He paused, then looked at her. “You didn’t bother me.”

She looked up, surprised. Ryoma gave a faint shrug and added, “Thanks. It’s good work.”

Sakuno’s eyes widened slightly before she smiled again—soft, genuine, and happy.

“Then let’s finish it together.”

Just as Sakuno reached for her pen again, the oven dinged with a soft chime.

“Oh—the test batch!” she said, quickly standing up and hurrying over to the oven.

Ryoma glanced up from the notes as she slipped on an oven mitt and opened the door. A sweet, buttery aroma filled the room. She carefully slid the tray out, but as she adjusted it on the counter, her ungloved fingers accidentally brushed the metal edge.

“Ah—!” she gasped quietly, pulling her hand back instinctively.

Ryoma was already up. In just a few steps, he was by her side.

“Let me see,” he said, gently reaching for her hand.

Sakuno hesitated, startled by how fast he moved. But she held out her fingers, and Ryoma took her hand carefully, inspecting the slightly reddened skin.

“You should’ve used both mitts,” he said, his voice low but edged with concern.

“I—I thought I could manage with just one…” she murmured, a bit embarrassed.

Ryoma let out a small breath. “Where’s the first aid kit?”

Sakuno motioned toward a shelf by the wall. “There’s a small one in the blue box.”

He grabbed it quickly, pulled out the burn cream and a small bandage, then returned to her. He dabbed the cream on with surprising care for someone usually so cool and collected, then gently wrapped her finger.

Sakuno stared at him, cheeks warm—not from the burn.

“Th-thank you, Ryoma-kun…”

Ryoma didn’t look up. “Don’t get hurt over cookies.”

“…They’re scones,” she said with a tiny laugh.

He glanced at her then, finally smirking. “Then don’t get hurt over scones.”

After bandaging her finger, Ryoma helped Sakuno move the scones to a cooling rack. Neither of them said much—just exchanged quick glances and awkward silences that somehow felt heavier than words.

Sakuno returned to her seat first, cradling her slightly wrapped hand. Ryoma followed, sitting beside her again, but now there was a different kind of tension in the air—soft, unspoken, and strangely warm.

They both stared at the notebook for a moment before Sakuno cleared her throat gently.

“I… I think you can just add your analysis here,” she said, pointing to the middle section. “Then, once we check the formatting, it’s ready to send.”

Ryoma nodded and started writing, but he could feel her gaze on him from the corner of his eye. Every time her sleeve brushed against his, he felt his hand tense just a little.

Sakuno tried to focus, too, but her thoughts kept drifting—to the way Ryoma had held her hand so gently, the way his voice had softened, the way his touch lingered just a second longer than necessary.

Their pens moved, pages turned, words were spoken, but their hearts had started a quiet dialogue of their own. Something had shifted—something small, but unmistakable.

And when they finally finished the assignment and hit “send” on the email to their professor, they sat in silence for a moment longer, neither one quite ready to move away.

“…Thanks for today,” Sakuno said softly.

Ryoma looked at her. “You too.”

Their eyes met—and held.

Just for a moment.

And then she smiled.

And Ryoma… almost smiled back.

The project was finished, and the assignment had been sent to Professor Asano. Sakuno packed up her things, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction. Ryoma gathered his notes, standing up and stretching.

“Thanks for all your help today,” Sakuno said with a soft smile as she slid her notebook into her bag.

Ryoma nodded, his expression neutral, but there was a subtle warmth in his eyes. “No problem.”

They walked toward the door of the Baking Club room, the soft hum of conversation from the club members in the background.

As they stepped outside into the university courtyard, the sky had darkened unexpectedly. The first few drops of rain splattered onto the ground, then quickly turned into a downpour. The heavy rain came down so suddenly that neither of them had time to react.

“Looks like it’s pouring,” Ryoma said, turning to glance at Sakuno.

Sakuno looked up, her face now slightly damp, but she didn’t seem worried. She smiled and reached into her bag.

“Good thing I brought my umbrella,” she said, pulling out a small, floral-patterned umbrella and opening it up with a quick flick of her wrist.

Ryoma blinked, surprised that she had prepared for the rain. "You brought an umbrella?"

“Mm-hmm, just in case,” she replied, holding it out toward him. “You can share it with me, Ryoma-kun. It’s better than getting soaked.”

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the umbrella and then back at her. The rain was coming down so hard now that it wasn’t really an option to walk without cover.

"Guess I don’t have a choice," he muttered, stepping closer and taking a place next to her under the small umbrella.

The two of them walked side by side, the sound of the rain drowning out any other noise. They were close enough that their shoulders occasionally brushed, but neither of them seemed to mind. The air between them felt easy, a quiet comfort settling in as they shared the umbrella and walked toward the dorm.

From the second-floor window of the nearby building, Inui’s sharp eyes narrowed as he observed the scene below. His lips curled into an odd, calculating grin as he watched Ryoma and Sakuno walking side by side under the small umbrella.

The rain came down heavily, but Sakuno held the umbrella steady, her body slightly turned toward Ryoma, as if trying to shield him from the worst of the downpour. Ryoma, for his part, walked beside her in silence, his face impassive as always, though the small, almost imperceptible shift in his posture seemed to show his reluctance to be too close.

Inui’s grin grew wider, more mischievous, as he scribbled down something on his notepad. His pen moved quickly, the words filling the page as he wrote, clearly amused by what he was witnessing.

Observation Log – Subject: Echizen Ryoma

Date: XX.XX.XXXX

Time: 17:42

Weather: Heavy rain

Situation:

Sharing a single umbrella with Ryuzaki Sakuno.

Distance between shoulders: ~15cm.

Estimated accidental brushing of arms: 3-5 times during walk.

Umbrella type: Small, floral.

Emotional state: Ryoma = 78% flustered denial (masked). Sakuno = 91% quiet happiness.

Conclusion: Subject's resistance is decreasing. Experiment progressing favorably.

Next step: Monitor for hand-holding or baked good exchanges.

"Echizen... it seems you're more vulnerable than you let on," Inui muttered to himself, his grin taking on a slightly eerie, almost predatory edge. “Let’s see how this develops…”

With one last glance at the pair below, he tucked the notebook away and stood up, his mind already racing with ideas for the next step in his ever-calculating plan.

The downpour hadn’t let up by the time they reached the boys' dorm. Ryoma stopped under the overhang, droplets sliding from the umbrella’s edge. Sakuno clutched the handle tightly, her other hand holding a small paper bag.

“Here,” she said, extending the bag toward him. “I packed a few of the scones from earlier… I thought maybe you'd want to try them.”

Ryoma glanced at the bag, then at her face. She was smiling—just a little, shy and hopeful under the shared umbrella.

He took the bag with a quiet, “Thanks.”

“I hope they’re not too plain. I wasn’t sure what was missing from the recipe,” she said, tucking a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “But… thank you for helping me earlier. With the burn.”

Ryoma looked at her, his gaze unreadable for a moment, then nodded. “They’ll be fine.”

There was a beat of silence—just the sound of rain pattering all around them.

Sakuno stepped back, umbrella still in hand. “You should go in before you get cold…”

Ryoma lingered a second longer, then finally turned toward the dorm door. Before going in, he paused and looked back.

“…Next time, use two mitts.”

She blinked, then laughed softly. “Okay.”

And with that, he disappeared inside—leaving Sakuno holding the umbrella alone, heart thumping beneath the stormy sky.

The dorm room was quiet, he wondered where was the trios, probably stucked in the rain. The room lit only by the soft glow of Ryoma’s desk lamp. His tennis bag was tossed near the corner, damp clothes hanging by the heater from the earlier rain.

Ryoma sat on the edge of his bed, towel around his neck, freshly showered. His gaze drifted to the small paper bag sitting on his desk.

The scones.

He reached over, opened the top, and took one out. It was slightly uneven in shape—clearly handmade—but golden and still fragrant even hours later. He took a bite.

It wasn’t perfect. Slightly under-sweet, and a bit crumbly. But somehow… warm.

He chewed slowly, quietly.

“…Not bad,” he muttered.

He looked down at his hand—the one he used to help her wrap her bandage. His brows furrowed a little, thoughtful. He took another bite.

For a moment, the usual tension in his shoulders eased. He leaned back against the wall, chewing, staring absently out the window where the rain had left streaks on the glass.

The bag crinkled as he reached for a second scone.

The next day, the campus was buzzing again with students heading to class. Ryoma walked into the cafeteria with his usual cool expression, tray in hand, scanning for a quiet place to sit.

Before he could pick a spot, a familiar voice called out.

“Yo, Echizen!” Momoshiro waved him over with a wide grin, already seated at a table with Inui. “We saved you a seat!”

Ryoma narrowed his eyes slightly but walked over. The moment he sat down, he sensed something was off.

“So…” Momoshiro leaned in, resting his chin on his hand with a sly grin. “Heard you had a sweet little walk in the rain yesterday.”

Ryoma paused, setting down his chopsticks slowly. “You spying on me again?”

“No,” Inui said smoothly, pushing his glasses up. “Just happened to be observing weather patterns from the second floor of the science building. Very enlightening results.”

“Mm, especially the close proximity of two subjects under a single umbrella,” Momoshiro added, barely hiding his amusement. “So romantic.”

Ryoma scowled. “It was raining. She had an umbrella. That’s all.”

Inui scribbled something in his notebook. “Subject displays classic signs of mild emotional denial. Physical proximity was approximately 15 centimeters—statistically significant.”

Ryoma’s eye twitched. “You measured?”

“I approximate,” Inui said matter-of-factly, still writing.

Momoshiro snorted. “You could’ve just dashed to the dorms, you know. You’re Echizen Ryoma, aren’t you? Rain can’t catch you.”

Ryoma replied coolly, “Didn’t feel like getting soaked.”

Momoshiro grinned wider. “Ohhh, didn’t want to get soaked—or didn’t want to leave Ryuzaki-chan all alone under that tiny umbrella? Just admit it—you didn’t hate sharing an umbrella with Ryuzaki, did you?”

Ryoma didn’t answer. He focused on his rice like it was the most important thing in the world.

The silence stretched… until Momoshiro leaned in again.

“You know, if you hold her hand next time, it might raise your immunity against fangirls by another 30 percent.”

Ryoma’s chopsticks clacked against the tray as he stood up.

“I’m eating somewhere else.”

He walked off, leaving the two upperclassmen laughing behind him—Inui already flipping to a new page in his notebook.

Additional Note: Subject chose not to run in rain despite high athletic capability. Romantic hesitation confirmed.

After her morning class, Sakuno sat by the window in the library, her textbooks open in front of her, though her eyes weren’t really focused on the pages.

A soft beam of sunlight spilled across the table, catching the small white bandage still wrapped around her finger.

She lifted her hand slightly, turning it over with a soft expression. The bandage wasn’t anything special—plain, a little loose at the edges now—but it made her heart flutter just a little.

Her thoughts drifted back to the moment Ryoma had gently taken her hand without hesitation. The way he’d dabbed the cream with such unexpected care. The way his brows furrowed ever so slightly in concern. And how close they had walked under the umbrella after that, his shoulder warm beside hers.

Sakuno smiled quietly to herself, her cheeks tinged with pink.

“He was really… kind,” she whispered, brushing her thumb gently over the bandage.

Tomoka dropped her bag in the chair beside her with a thud, startling Sakuno from her thoughts.

“Sorry I’m late! What did I miss—huh? What’s that smile?” Tomoka leaned closer, narrowing her eyes teasingly. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about Ryoma-sama.”

Sakuno flustered, hiding her hand beneath the table. “N-no! I wasn’t— I mean… I was just thinking about the assignment…”

Tomoka smirked. “Right. And that little bandage has nothing to do with it, huh?”

Sakuno ducked her head with a shy laugh, her heart still quietly blooming with warmth.

[sorato00]

RyoSaku Fanfiction 🎾🌸👟🥎

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[sorato00]

RYOSAKU ONE-SHOT

Inspired by their pictures when they reach 23 years old.

I don’t own POT, only the plot is mine.

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The hum of Narita Airport filled the air as Ryoma Echizen stepped onto Japanese soil, his tennis bag slung over one shoulder and his luggage following closely behind. At 23, he towered over the crowd, his once boyish features now giving way to a maturity that suited him well. Fresh from a thrilling victory at the Australian Open, he felt the weight of expectations pressing lightly on his shoulders. As he scanned the terminal, his eyes fell upon his older brother, Ryoga, leaning casually against a wall, effortlessly bouncing an orange in one hand.

“Chibisuke!” Ryoga called out, a grin spreading across his face.

Ryoma returned the smile and quickened his pace. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Not a problem at all,” Ryoga replied, leading him towards a sleek yellow Toyota Supra. Once inside, the engine’s purr accompanied their chatter as they navigated the streets.

“So, congrats on your win in Australia! What’s next?” Ryoga asked, glancing at Ryoma, who was gazing out the window, lost in thought.

“Probably the US Open,” Ryoma answered.

“That’s great.” Ryoga nodded, smirking.

As they arrived home, Ryoma’s gaze fell upon his father, Nanjiro, clad in a traditional black monk outfit. The sight of him, scratching his collarbone and yawning while sweeping dry leaves smirking, somehow brought a warm smile to his lips. Despite the encroaching gray in his hair, Nanjiro retained an air of vitality.

“Oh, Seishounen, you’re back,” his father said without missing a beat. “How was Australia?”

“Yeah. Just like usual,” Ryoma replied, brushing past him towards the door. He could hear Nanjiro huff softly, perhaps noting his son’s lack of enthusiasm.

“Tch, so unsociable, like usual,” Nanjiro muttered, giving Ryoma a bored look.

Ryoga chuckled beside him, “that’s how Chibisuke is.”

Inside, Rinko looked up from the kitchen, her warm smile brightening the room. “You’re back, Ryoma! Congratulations on winning the Australian Open!”

“Thanks, Mom,” he replied, feeling the familiar weight of her expectations wrapped in her affection.

“You must be tired; go rest in your room. I’ll make something to eat,” she urged.

After a swift climb up the stairs, Ryoma tossed his luggage and tennis bag aside and collapsed onto his bed, surrendering to the fatigue that consumed him. The world faded into darkness as he drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, the incessant ringing of his phone pulled him from dreams. Blinking against the afternoon light, he reached for the device, groaning upon seeing Momoshiro’s name flashing on the screen.

“What is it?” he picked up, still half-asleep.

“Echizen! You’re back, right? Come play tennis with us at the usual place!” Momoshiro’s voice crackled with excitement.

“I’m tired…” Ryoma murmured, but before he could hang up, Eiji’s voice cut through the phone.

“Hoi hoi, Ochibi! Come play with us! The Hyotei guys are here too. You wouldn’t want to miss this.”

Giving in, Ryoma sighed. “Fine.” After hanging up, he couldn’t help but think about what lay ahead—friends, laughter, and tennis.

While Ryoma prepared for his outing, Sakuno Ryuzaki stood in front of her mirror. At 23, she had blossomed into a young woman, her fair skin and long braided hair glowing with vitality. Her heart raced as Tomoka’s excited voice floated through her room from her phone.

“Sakuno! Are you busy?”

Sakuno smiled and said, “no, I’m not,” while took some clothes to fold.

“Let’s go to the usual tennis court. Momo-senpai said they are playing today, and you know what? Ryoma-sama will be there too!”

“R-Ryoma-kun?” she responded, her cheeks flushing at the mere thought of seeing him again. Tomoka’s laughter echoed in her ears as she rushed to prepare herself. After rejecting several outfits, she settled on a soft pink dress with ruffle sleeves. With a touch of makeup to highlight her features, she took a deep breath and headed out the door.

“Going out, Sakuno?” Sumire, her grandmother, asked, eyeing her critically.

“Y-yes, I’m going to the usual tennis court,” she replied, adjusting the strap of her white sling bag nervously.

Sumire raised an eyebrow. “You look extra cute today. Is it because Ryoma is there?”

“T-that’s not it, obaa-chan!” Sakuno protested, her blush deepening.

“Just confess to him if you like him. He’s quite dense when it comes to things outside of tennis,” her grandmother teased, laughter dancing in her voice.

Sakuno sighed, “I don’t know...”

“You already 23, Sakuno. I’m worried about you. Your eyes only see him, don’t you think that makes you hard to see another guy? Just confess and move on.”

Sakuno sighed. Could she really confess? They had been friends for years, and the thought of rejection gnawed at her. Still, every time she thought of Ryoma—the way he played, his smile, even the gentle quirks of his personality—her heart fluttered with hope.

Seeing her granddaughter's troubled face, made her stop. “Well, that’s fine if you just want to continue being friends, it’s all depends on you.”

Sumire continued, “oh by the way, since you are out today, can you give this to the Echizen? They bought me some manju before.” Sumire handed her a box of Wagashi in a paper bag. Sakuno nodded and took the bag.

Arriving at the tennis court, she spotted Tomoka waving enthusiastically. Sakuno forced a smile, pushing her doubts aside.

At the tennis courts, Tomoka and Sakuno stood together, their eyes glued to the ongoing match. The energy of the game crackled in the air. Momoshiro and Kaidoh were neck-and-neck, but their attention drifted elsewhere.

“Where is Ryoma-sama?” Tomoka mused, glancing around with a playful pout.

Sakuno’s cheeks flushed crimson at the mention of his name, and she timidly scanned the crowd. “I wonder…”

A quick glance at her wristwatch pulled Tomoka’s focus back to their conversation. “Looks like he’s not here yet. I have a date after this.”

“W-What? A date?” Sakuno gasped, her heart fluttering at the unexpected news. “Is it with the guy who works part-time at the convenience store?”

Tomoka grinned widely, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yep, that’s the one! He’s cute, so I just asked for his number, and he gave it to me without hesitation!”

Sakuno’s eyes widened, a hint of envy coloring her features. “I-I envy you, Tomo-chan. I wish I could be that confident.”

Tomoka tilted her head, a warm smile spreading across her face. “It’s nothing, really! Just say it if you like someone. You’ve got to believe in yourself, Sakuno! I mean, look at you. You’re pretty, and you have a good figure too.”

Sakuno’s gaze fell to the ground, her insecurity creeping back in. “B-but what if that person rejects me?”

“You have to try. It’s better to know rather than to wonder, you know.” Tomoka encouraged. “I have plenty of handsome and kind friends out there. Some of my friends even asked for your number! But since you said you weren’t ready to date, I turned them down.”

Sakuno felt a mix of warmth and embarrassment. “S-sorry, Tomo-chan.”

Suddenly, Tomoka’s gaze shifted, her excitement bubbling over. “Oh! There’s Ryoma-sama!”

Sakuno flinched, heart racing as she followed Tomoka’s gaze. There he was, guiding his way through the throng of players in his long sports pants and a simple red T-shirt, his tennis bag slung over one shoulder. In that moment, the world around her narrowed down, and it felt as if time had stopped. He exuded an effortless charm that left Sakuno breathless.

“Oh my gosh, isn’t he just stunning?” Tomoka squealed, drawing Sakuno back from her reverie.

“Y-yeah,” Sakuno managed to whisper, attempting to conceal how deeply affected she was by Ryoma’s presence.

Tomoka continued enthralled, “Look at his face! I feel full just gazing at him, even though I’m hungry.”

Sakuno’s thoughts swirled; she could see the sharpness of Ryoma’s features, the confidence in his stride, and suddenly, she understood why Tomoka admired him so.

“Um, Tomo-chan,” Sakuno stuttered, her cheeks heating up. “D-don’t you want to confess to him if you like Ryoma-kun?”

Tomoka let out a laugh. “Don’t you know? I confessed to him every day during junior high—and he just ignored me. It’s no use if he doesn’t like me back. It’s better to find someone who can like me back. I might as well just keep liking him like I do to another handsome guy.”

Sakuno sweat-dropped, Tomoka sure always too positive. But at the same time Sakuno’s spirit sank at those words. She wondered if he would ignore her too.

“What’s wrong, Sakuno?” Tomoka asked, her expression shifting to concern. “You want to confess to Ryoma-sama too?”

Sakuno felt her face flame with embarrassment. “I—um…”

Tomoka laughed and hit her back gently, “I’ll cheer for you then! Good luck.”

Momoshiro, having noticed the pair. “Hey, if it isn’t Osakada and Ryuzaki.”

Ryoma turned, his gaze settling on them, and Sakuno’s heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. Eiji’s voice rang out next, cheerfully summoning them over. “Oi, Ryuzaki-chan! Osakada-chan! What are you guys doing there? Come here!”

Tomoka waved at them and grasped Sakuno’s hand, and they rushed toward the boys. “Ryoma-sama! Congratulations on your victory in the Australian Open!”

“Thanks,” Ryoma said, nodding his acknowledgment.

“Sakuno wants to congratulate you too!” Tomoka nudged Sakuno forward, her grin growing.

Sakuno’s heart raced as Ryoma faced her. She stammered, unable to find the words, “C-congratulations, R-Ryoma-kun…”

Ryoma tipped his head slightly, offering a small gesture of thanks. They had always been friends, or he could say she just his former classmates, since they only talked on a few occasions. But whenever they talked, it felt deep inside him, the girl who always cheered for him and sometimes made him feel better with her simple words, ‘it’s going to be okay. Everything will be fine. Something good will come at the end.’

As Ryoma scanned Sakuno’s face, he noticed a subtle change in her appearance. She had started wearing a bit of makeup, and he couldn’t help but think that it suited her perfectly. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Ryoma quickly looked away, feeling a rush of emotions he couldn’t quite place. Sakuno, on the other hand, felt a sense of accomplishment mixed with anxiety.

Momoshiro asked, “won’t you guys playing too? There’s an empty courts there.”

Tomoka answered confidently. “I want to but I can’t. I have a date later.”

Horio chimed in while chuckled. “A date? So you found new boyfriend? Who is it now?”

Tomoka glared at Horio. “That’s none of your business. I am a popular with guys, unlike you, unibrow.”

Horio, didn’t want to lose, approached her and their eyes are full with electricity. “What? You have problem with unibrow?!”

Eiji hold Horio, trying to make him calm. Sakuno also did the same to Tomoka, they somehow already gotten used with their banter.

Momoshiro leaned closer, teasingly observing, “Ryuzaki, you look stunning today. Got a date too?”

Sakuno shook her head fervently. “N-no, I don’t have a date!”

Tomoka laughed and wrapped her hand on Sakuno’s shoulder. She grinned, “who knows, maybe Sakuno will confess to someone today. Isn’t that right, Sakuno?”

Sakuno blushed as the others look at her, half-shocked and half-curious. She waved her hands, “I-It’s not like that.”

Tomoka whispers to her, “Ryoma-sama is here, this is your chance.” Tomoka checked her watch again. “I have to go now, but let’s catch up later, Sakuno! I will called you later! Tell me all about it!”

With that declaration, Tomoka winked and waved goodbye, leaving Sakuno standing amidst the chatter, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

Sakuno felt a nervous flutter in her stomach as she clutched the strap of her bag, glancing around the tennis courts filled with familiar faces, but all of them are guys. “I think I should go too...” Her heart sank slightly at the thought of leaving, but the awkwardness of being the only girl there made her hesitate.

Eiji’s voice broke through her thoughts, playful and insistent. “Eh, you want to go? Ochibi just arrived! Won’t you see him play?”

With her cheeks tinted pink, she stammered, “W-well, okay.” She watched Ryoma and Fuji step onto the court, their presence igniting that familiar rush of admiration within her.

As the match began, her eyes were locked on Ryoma. Each powerful serve and concentrated rally made her heart race, a chorus of cheers from their friends fading into the background. Sakuno sighed, feeling more than ever that her grandmother was right about confessing her feelings. If she didn’t take the leap, she might miss her chance.

“Ryoma-kun.” she whispered to herself, her gaze following him as he smiled and exchanged banter with Fuji. “You’re so amazing…”

After their match, moments drifted slowly as Takashi and Oishi took to the court. Ryoma and Fuji leave the court, watching Takashi and Oishi’s match. Just then, a voice yanked Sakuno from her daydream. A guy stood before her, looking sheepish yet determined. “Hello, you are Ryuzaki-chan, right?”

Sakuno blinked, her heart suddenly thudding louder. “Oh hello, yes, I am. And you are…?”

“Takeru Watanabe,” he smiled, his face lighting up with recognition. “Your former classmate from university. Do you remember?”

She hesitated for a moment, piecing together memories of a boy with glasses. “Oh! Yes, I remember. I’m sorry for not recognizing you; you wore glasses back then.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I did. Can we talk over there for a while?” Takeru gestured to a quieter spot by the courts.

Something inside her stirred. Talk? With him? Before she could overthink it, she nodded, “Oh, okay.”

As they moved away, the boys glanced knowingly at each other. Momoshiro elbowed Ryoma. “Ah, he must be confessing, right?”

Eiji grinned, “Yeah, it’s so obvious!”

Fuji raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in his smile. “Saa… Ryuzaki-chan is cute after all.”

Kaidoh scoffed, “Fsshh.” Agreeing, but his tone lacked conviction.

Eiji said, while placing his both hands behind his back, “yeah, seriously, if she’s not the coach’s granddaughter, I probably confessed to her as well.”

The former regulars shocked, except Fuji and Ryoma. “Ehhh?!”

Eiji chuckled, “I mean, look at her. She got the perfect package. She is nice, pretty, decent and honest too. Who wouldn’t like her..”

Momoshiro finally nodded. “Yeah, I can see that. But when we think about coach...”

The former regulars except Fuji and Ryoma looked up, imagining Sumire in their head, with a scary face. The imagination disappeared as their body shivered.

Fuji chuckled, “That what make things interesting.”

Then, as if caught in a mental trap, Ryoma felt something twist in his chest. He stare at Sakuno and Takeru. Why did the sight of Sakuno with another guy bother him so much? She looks bright with her smiles. His internal struggle was interrupted by the arrival of a bowing Sakuno, parting from Takeru after what seemed like an intimate conversation.

“95.7% he asking for her number.” Inui chimed in, his glasses glinted, as he saw Takeru kept his phone in his pocket.

“Did he asked for your number?” Momoshiro teased, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

Sakuno blushed fiercely. “Y-yeah.”

Eiji’s eyebrows shot up, impressed. “So you gave it to him?”

Sakuno responded softly, “Y-yeah… He’s a kind person. He has always helped in our class.”

A strange, heavy silence fell around them, and Ryoma felt a surge of unease. Why did it hurt to hear her say that? She, who always looking at him and cheered for him, suddenly praising another guy? That, somehow made him pissed off. Suddenly, without thinking, he blurted out, “So you just give your number to any guy?”

The air shifted instantly. A gasp escaped Momoshiro and Eiji, while a shocked silence enveloped the group. Sakuno flinched, the sparkle in her eyes dimming. Is that how he thought about her all this time? The courage she had to confess suddenly crumbled. Her hands gripped tight, trying to suppress her feelings, but tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. “Do you think I have no pride? I-Is that how you think of me?”

Ryoma’s eyes widened, as he saw her tears.

“Y-you don’t even know my feelings!” Her voice cracked with hurt. “I hate you, Ryoma-kun!” she exclaimed, turning on her heel and fleeing the scene.

Her words hung in the air like a curtain of dread, the others exchanging worried glances. Ryoma felt panic lurch within him.

Momoshiro shook his head, exasperated. “Why would you say that, Echizen?!”

Eiji added, “Yeah, you were really mean-nya!”

“Go apologize!” Momoshiro pushed Ryoma, urgency spilling from every word.

With his heart pounding, Ryoma dashed off, searching for her, but after fruitless searching, he returned to the group, shoulders heavy with guilt.

“Well?” Momoshiro asked, worry etched on his features.

“I couldn’t find her,” Ryoma admitted, his spirits deflated. He didn’t ’t even feel like playing tennis anymore. He packed his bag, the weight of regret heavy in his heart. “I’m going home.”

“Damn it, you better apologize later,” Momoshiro warned as he walked home.

Ryoma sighed. As he walked, he fished out his phone. The thought of facing Sumire filled him with dread. When she answered, her voice was bright. “Hey, Ryoma! Fancy to see you calling me. What’s up?”

He stumbled over his words, trying to navigate his emotions. “Um… coach, is your granddaughter home?”

“Sumire replied, “Sakuno? No, not yet. Why are you looking for her?”

He felt his throat tighten. “I want to talk to her about something, but I don’t have her phone number.”

“Oh really? Well, I’ll give you her phone number. But if I found out anything bad happening, I’ll kill you,” Sumire joked, though her tone carried a hint of seriousness.

Ryoma sweated at the thought and quickly agreed. “Thanks.”

He dialed her number quickly after Sumire sent the number, holding his breath. It rang once, twice, and then went to voicemail.

Sakuno stood by the mirror in the dimly lit public bathroom, her breath hitching as she dabbed at the remnants of tears with a tissue. Her eyes were red and puffy, betraying her emotions despite her clumsy attempts to mask them with makeup. She glanced at the paper bag in her hand, filled with wagashi—a gesture meant for the Echizen family that now felt heavy with unspoken words.

Around her, several missed calls blinked from her phone’s notification pane. Each one was from an unknown number, and in that moment of heartbreak, she registered them as mere distractions. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. ‘I’m so stupid, getting upset just because of this.’

Meanwhile, Ryoma sat on the couch in the living room, the remnants of dinner lingering in the air but forgotten in his restless mind. He absentmindedly stared at his phone.

“What is wrong with you?” Nanjiro’s voice cut through the silence, breaking his reflections.

“It’s nothing,” Ryoma replied tersely, his eyes darting to the screen again.

“Nothing? You’ve been looking at that phone like it holds the secret of life. Having a fight with girlfriend or something?” Nanjiro teased, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

Ryoma just silent, too tired to make another argument.

Just then, the doorbell rang, interrupting their banter. Curiosity piqued, Nanjiro wandered to the door. “I wonder who that is.” As he swung it open, he greeted a familiar face. “Oh, it’s you, Ryuzaki-chan.”

At the sound of her name, Ryoma sprang from his seat, peering around the corner. His heart quickened when he caught sight of her—tears still evident in her red-rimmed eyes.

“I’m so sorry I came late, Uncle Nanjiro. Obaa-chan asked me to give this—it’s wagashi,” she said, her voice trembling.

Nanjiro’s eyes softened. “Ryuzaki-chan, are you okay? Your eyes…”

Ryoma stepped into view, unable to hold back. “Ryuzaki.”

Sakuno froze, wide-eyed, and turned away. “I’m okay, Uncle. I’ll take my leave now.”

The door closed behind her, leaving Ryoma unsettled. “Did you do something to her?” Nanjiro asked, concern gripping his features. Ryoma ignored him, slipping past his father.

“I’m going out.”

Before Nanjiro could respond, Ryoma grabbed his dad’s bicycle and pedalled off into the night, determined to find Sakuno.

Sakuno walked slowly in the dark alley after she running, she took a breath, her heart heavy. She heard the sound of bicycle wheels behind her.

“Ryuzaki,” he called softly.

She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, unwilling to meet his eyes and keep walking.

Ryoma rode slowly, following her. He called out again. “Ryuzaki, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean it.”

She still didn’t respond and keep walking.

Ryoma losing his patience and rode the bicycle faster and skidding to a halt in front of her, made her flinched. She looked down, her bangs close her eyes.

“Please, can we talk?” he urged gently.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she squatted down and buried her face, overwhelmed.

“Ryuzaki, are you okay?” Ryoma quickly dismounted the bicycle and squatted down beside her, concern etched on his brow.

“Go back. I don’t want you to see me like this,” she whispered.

He hesitated, then sighed and said, “Okay.” He makes the sound as if he was gone, he grabbed the pedal of the bicycle and turn it backwards, creating a loud clanking sound. As Sakuno didn’t hear the sound of his bike anymore, she already assumed that he was gone. She looked up, but she got shocked to find him still there, mirroring her position.

“Why didn’t you go?” she asked, confusion blooming amidst her sadness.

“And leave you here alone in the dark?” His words were sincere, warm.

Sakuno felt a blush creep to her cheeks. Then, Ryoma reached for her wrist. “Let’s go. I’ll send you home.”

She followed him silently, climbing onto the back of the bicycle as he took the front, instructing her to hold tight. Sakuno hold the hem of his shirt.

As they rode, the tension began to dissipate. The rhythmic motion of the bicycle seemed to soothe her troubled soul.

“I called you many times,” Ryoma began, attempting to break the silence.

Sakuno flinched, realization hitting her—he was the unknown number. “I’m sorry for not picking up,” she murmured.

“Can’t you smile?” he pressed, catching a hint of hopefulness in his tone.

A small smile tugged at her lips, albeit weak. “I… I don’t feel like smiling right now,” she admitted, the weight of the day still pressing heavily on her heart.

“That means you’re still mad,” he still rode the bicycle.

“I’m not mad,” she denied, though uncertainty clung to her words.

“Then smile,” he challenged gently.

Taking a deep breath, she found courage in his presence. But still unable to smile.

“Seeing you upset, I don’t like it,” Ryoma said, still pedalling.

Though her heart was heavy, she felt lighter under his attention. “Ryoma-kun...”

She looked at his back, who still pedalling the bicycle. Perhaps this is the time to end everything. Like how her grandma and Tomoka said. Confess and move on. Summoning up her courage, her forehead leaned against his back, clutching his shirt tightly. “I like you, Ryoma-kun.”

Their progress halted, the world narrowing down to just the two of them. Ryoma silent, stopping the bicycle, but still looking ahead.

“You’re the reason I wake up with a smile. You make me happy by just being there. Whenever I see you, my heart beats faster, I like you more with each passing day,” she confessed, emotions rising within her. “I can’t see the other guys like I see you. Today, I even wore a nice dress for you. It’s funny right?”

Tears welled in her eyes, but this time they felt different—hope intermingled with vulnerability.

“Ne, Ryuzaki,” he said finally, “if you like me, then don’t exchange number with other guys.”

Her eyes widened. Her heart thudded loudly in her chest.

He continued, “don’t smile at other guys. If you want to exchange number with a guy, just do it with me.”

Minutes stretched into eternity as he remained silent. Although it was dark, Sakuno can see the blush creeping across his ears from the back. She smiled softly as she understood the meaning. That was Ryoma’s way to tell ‘I like you too.’

They resumed their ride, the moonlight illuminating their shared warmth. Sakuno wrapped her hands around his waist tightly and leaned her head on his back. It was warm.

When they reached Sakuno’s house, she hesitated at the gate. “T-Thank you for sending me home,” she said bashfully.

Ryoma just replied with simple “yeah.”

Sakuno smiled and turned around to the main gate. Ryoma called out before she could disappear through the gate. “Ryuzaki.”

Pausing, she turned, curiosity shining in her eyes. “Y-Yes?”

“Let’s date,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

Overcome with shyness, she walked to him, heart racing. In a bold move, she kissed his cheek, whispering, “G-Goodnight.”

Sakuno fled inside, heart racing and cheeks blazing, unable to contain her happiness. She’s leaving the stunned Ryoma.

He touched the spot she had kissed, a smirk forming.

Sakuno squatted down after the gate. Her both hands cover her blushed face. Just then, her phone buzzed. A message from the unknown number sent her heart soaring: *Goodnight. P.S. You look pretty today.*

As she hugged her phone tightly, she knew this was just the beginning.

Several months later, as Ryoma strolled through the New York street, he carried a tennis bag slung over his shoulder. He stopped mid-step, glancing back at Sakuno who was kneeling beside Karupin, his beloved Himalayan cat.

“What should we do with you, Karupin? Did you sneak into Ryoma-kun’s bag again to follow us to States?” she giggled. Karupin replied her with a meow.

“Don’t lag behind, Sakuno. Just let him follow us.” Ryoma said, with a warm smile.

She smiled brightly in return. “Okay!”

Karupin trotting behind Ryoma, being the witnessed of their shared smile. The world around them brightening with the promise of love and countless adventures ahead, their hearts intertwined as they moved forward into their new chapter together.