Summary: A series of oneshots mainly on RyoSaku. Today Ryoma gets confessed to.

Age: 17

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

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Little Girl

For the constant readers of this story.

“The easiest kind of relationship for me is with ten thousand people. The hardest is with one.” – Joan Baez

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“Ryoma-kun isn’t my friend.” She sighed wearily as she cautiously adjusted the bill of her cap. “I mean… um…”

“Um…?” The young man with jet black hair, sharp; piercing hazel eyes, and tanned arms which were crossed over his well-built chest hummed in question as he waited impatiently for her to continue. His facial expression grimed by every tick of the antique grandfather clock that was situated just behind them. Because just outside an old; dusted antique store in the middle of the market place stood the infamous Ponta pair. And it seemed as though things were going to get ruff.

“I mean, um… that you—“ She stuttered involuntarily as she locked her once soft; welcoming gaze on the dirty concrete sidewalk as a pathetic attempt to keep her hazel eyes away from him. And behind her, her hands were sweating in tremendous speed. “I’m in love with you, Ryoma Echizen!”

Slowly and gradually, Ryoma’s eyes widened as he stared at her.

His eyes twitched in a glare.

The little girl in front of him grew startled. Her eyes hid back the tears that were tempting to spill due to the unpleasant reaction she was replied with. And grudgingly, as though it couldn’t get any worse, the young; experienced Wimbledon champion turned his face to look at the young lady beside him. The cruel; distasteful glare on his face said it all. That he, the infamous seventeen year old Wimbledon champion, didn’t reciprocate her feelings: her deep and empathic feelings of love.

“You’ve got to be joking.” Ryoma carelessly mouthed to the brunette beside him whose eyes showed unimaginable empathy for the puffy-eyed young girl since she was once placed on the same shoes as she. Instantly, her mouth curved low disapprovingly. Giving Ryoma a hard look, she immediately fell on her knees to be leveled with the crying kid. Ryoma just shrugged his shoulders and looked away, appalled.

“It’s okay little girl.” Sakuno cooed as she gently ran her long dainty fingers down the black hair of the young “princess”. “I’m sure that Ryoma-kun loves you back as well.”

“Really?”

“Yes!” Sakuno exclaimed caringly and joyfully. “Why shouldn’t he? After all, you are so cute and beautiful and nice and sweet and—“

“And sexy!” The young girl cried out in agony. “I’m sexy!”

“Umm… of course you… are…” Sakuno agreed half-heartedly, her face gradually looking bitter. Ryoma just rolled his eyes and said in disgust.

“No you’re not.” He proclaimed. Immediately, the young girl’s eyes shot up. Her pouting mouth trembled as she started wailing once more. “You’re impolite, arrogant, cocky, narcissistic, and naughty.”

The young girl’s cry grew louder and less bearable.

“Ryoma-kun!” Sakuno shrieked in disbelief, though the wailing girl’s sob surpassed Sakuno’s cry of anguish. Ryoma merely shrugged his arms and looked away once more, same in his cool, nonchalant, unbreakable exterior of superiority. “I hate you!”

…

“What did you just say?” Ryoma questioned irritably; in a deep dangerous voice, against the cries of the girl that was now sobbing on Sakuno’s chest. Sakuno’s eyes slowly widened. Instinctively, her grasp on the child tightened at the sudden strike of realization on what she had just blurted out.

“I— it was nothing.” She stuttered in panic. And straight away, she took the child in her arms and stood up, eyeing the young prodigy. Ryoma’s gaze darkened as he looked deep into her eyes; into her alarmed; terrified soul. “Whatever you heard, it didn’t mean anything.”

“Too late.” Ryoma muttered. Taking his hand up at the level of Sakuno’s face, he started by cupping her chin and then, he pulled her closer. Planting a long sweet kiss on her hot, red lips, Ryoma deepened it by pulling her closer, not at all minding the kid that was sandwiched between them.

Pulling away, Sakuno could only see the smirk on Ryoma’s lips at the sight of her face pink with embarrassment. She started running her hand down the young girl spontaneously as she looked away from Ryoma.

“She stopped crying.” She muttered softly as she brought her shinning hazel eyes up to look at Ryoma. Ryoma nodded and started walking away with Sakuno following closely behind him. Then, looking up to face Ryoma, she said lovingly, “I know you like her… at least somehow, after all, she is your cousin.”

“Don’t remind me.” Ryoma muttered annoyingly. “She’s just like my father.”

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To be continued…