After seven chapters, our story has finally come to an end. Thank you for all the reviews!

Acknowledgements: astraldrop11, as usual, for the words of encouragement, rookie-chan and fallenskii03 for the ideas and Cinpii, for reading through the first draft and her corrections. Thank you so much!

Please enjoy the last chapter of Flowers in February.

All disclaimers apply.

Flowers in February

A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us.

To live is to be slowly born.

- Antoine de St. Exupery

THE LAST CHAPTER

Ryoma had never liked the smell of hospitals.

It always made sure that you know that something was wrong, or that someone was sick or maybe even dying. He hated it.

Sakuno was finally confined. It was about time, too, Ryoma had thought. She had no more vitality compared to a vegetable – she couldn’t move her arms about, couldn’t even tilt her head. There were tubes all over the house, since she had a hard time eating. It was May, then, and already a few weeks after Sakuno was first brought into the hospital. Though they never said it out loud, they all thought the same thing.

She was dying.

Sitting on one of the benches outside Sakuno’s room and waiting until visiting time was over, Ryoma tinkered with his phone absently. It had been a routine for the past weeks already. Him waiting patiently as Sumire tried to coax optimism into Sakuno. Ryoma had always doubted if it got through. As for him, he spared himself the futile effort and the tightening sensation in his throat whenever he saw how bad she looked.

“Ah, it’s you, Echizen-kun,” greeted one of the nurses, as she stopped in front of him.

Ryoma gave an acknowledging nod.

“I-I’m sorry about Ryuzaki-san.”

He stared at her, and replied, “What are you sorry for? She isn’t dead yet.”

The nurse, abashed, agreed quickly and excused herself.

The boy sighed and let himself slide against the wall. A lot of people had been giving their condolences, and it annoyed him to no end. Fuji, Tezuka, Momoshiro… they were no different. Even Kevin was telling him to go home already. And Sumire, too.

“Let’s go home, son.”

Son. Since when did Sumire start calling her that? In any case, he stood up at the call, and offered his arm to the old lady, which was, as usual, refused. She can do it herself, she insisted, and Ryoma didn’t push her further. He led her down the hall, opened the door for her, and let her lead him to the parked car.

The summer air was cold then.

He wondered if Sumire remembered to turn on the heater. He was about to ask, when he was cut off by the engine. He decided to let it pass, and he leaned against the window.

“Sensei says that she has one or two days at most.”

Ryoma silently nodded. He had thought of that.

“I suppose there’s nothing we can do now.” A light chuckle came from the old lady. Ryoma was about to tell her off when he saw that light tears were streaming down her face as she drove. He felt sorry for her at once, and bit his lip to keep his words to himself.

He went back to the way he was before and muttered, “Drive safely,” under his breath.

“She was a good granddaughter. Nicer than the ordinary, you know.” Sumire sniffed. “I never could get why she never got good at tennis, though. She was okay, but heaven knows why she never excelled. I always thought it was in the genes.”

“She improved,” Ryoma offered.

Sumire laughed, and this somehow relieved Ryoma. “Of course you’d say that,” she told him teasingly.

“Hn. It isn’t important,” he mumbled. “Nosy old lady.”

“Well, I think it’s time I made preparations. I’ll be busy tomorrow so I’m counting on you to look after her the whole day. I called her friend, Tomo-chan, to come help you and visit Sakuno.” She sniffled again, but this time, her voice was less shaky. Ryoma could feel her eyes on him and was about to remind her that she was driving, when she suddenly said, “Thank you for everything.”

Ryoma turned to look, and Sumire’s eyes were back on the road again. He smiled to himself and looked back outside.

--

When Ryoma came to her room the next day, he found that Tomoka had gotten there first.

She had changed. The twin ponytails were gone, and were replaced by shoulder-length wavy hair, and her body had curved far more maturely than Sakuno’s. The air around her had changed, as well. A calm and reassuring air had replaced her once cheery aura.

“Ryoma… kun,” she greeted, unsure of the honorific. Nevertheless, she gave him a bright smile, her eyes twinkling. “You look well. And Sakuno-chan… well, she doesn’t, of course, but she looks better than I expected. Her cheeks are pretty rosy.” She looked at Sakuno lovingly.

Ryoma just placed the food he bought onto the table and pulled a chair to the other side of Sakuno’s bed, so that he was facing Tomoka. “I’m going to wash her,” Ryoma informed Tomoka. For some reason, it made him uncomfortable that someone else was with Sakuno. He didn’t like the feeling.

Tomoka blushed. “O-Oh, yes. I don’t mind.” She inched closer. “Can I help with anything?”

“I don’t think so,” Ryoma replied coldly. He caught himself, though, and said, “You could get warm water from the bathroom.”

Quickly, Tomoka did as she was told, and soon enough, they were working side by side, wiping Sakuno’s arms and legs with sponges.

“Sakuno-chan was my first friend in Seigaku.” Tomoka said suddenly, giggling at the memory. “She was so shy back then. I guess she’s still shy now, but you should’ve seen her. She wouldn’t talk unless someone else approached her. She was kind of intimidating.” Her eyes glazed from the memory, and Ryoma was thinking that she’d start crying. He’d been around a lot of crying people for the past few months, and he was getting used to it.

To his surprise, she didn’t.

“I met her because of Ryoma-‘sama’. I asked out loud what your name was when I saw you in the grounds for the first time, and I – we – were all surprised when Sakuno answered.” She laughed out loud. “I never knew it then, but Sakuno-chan really did like you, Ryoma-kun.”

Ryoma grunted.

“That wasn’t a very interesting response,” Tomoka said, pouting her lips.

“Well,” Ryoma muttered, clearing his throat. “I like her, too, I guess.”

“Even before?”

He shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

Tomoka stopped sponging and placed hers in one of the basins. She smiled at Ryoma and took Sakuno’s hand. “I saw you once. When you taught her for the first time… I followed then, but I only caught the tennis. I knew you liked her at once.”

Ryoma scowled. “I don’t remember,” he insisted. And he didn’t.

“If I were to ask Ryoma-kun to teach me tennis then… would he?”

And Ryoma didn’t reply.

--

After Tomoka had left, the room had quieted down, and the doctor took this as the perfect time to enter. Ryoma, at that moment, was staring out the window. As soon as he heard the doctor come in, he watched as he sat on Tomoka’s chair, and proceeded to sit on his own.

Ryoma stared at the doctor, who looked like he was trying to compose himself.

“I think you should be interested in our findings…”

Of course I’d be interested, he thought, clenching his fists on his thighs. Suddenly, his whole body felt tensed.

“We’ve run a couple of tests for the past few days, and this came as quite a surprise,” the doctor continued. “This is nothing short of a miracle, Echizen-kun.” His eyes were twinkling as they met Ryoma’s. “She’s pregnant.”

Ryoma stared blankly at him.

“About three months. It seems her ovaries aren’t affected yet. It’s one of her internal organs that are still functioning normally. Though I’m afraid to say that with how things are going now – with the disease rapidly spreading through her body… and how weak she is physically…” He held Ryoma’s stare. “They both can’t make it. I’m sorry.”

Ryoma didn’t know what to say and only managed a cold, “okay” in response.

“I’m very sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Ryoma told him, looking at Sakuno.

The doctor could only look at him pitifully before managing another, “I’m really very sorry.” And with that, he left them alone.

--

Ryoma didn’t get out of the chair as he stared at Sakuno’s tummy for a long time. Nothing different. He ran his hands over the hospital clothes. He could’ve sworn that he felt a kick, but who was he kidding? Three-month-old dead babies didn’t kick.

“That’s okay,” he told himself rigidly. “We were too young, anyway.”

He stared at her still, willing her to wake up and get better. But she didn’t.

“I never liked kids.”

Gently, he grazed the back of his hand against Sakuno’s forehead. It was cold. He took his hands off and placed them against her stomach again.

“It’s not your fault. It’s okay.” He smiled. “It’s okay.”

And a tear fell from Sakuno’s eye.

Ryoma’s eyes widened and he stood up. More tears were falling. Sakuno was crying. She was actually crying. Without hesitation, he punched the nurse’s button over and over.

--

“Oh, God.”

The ICU was in panic. Nurses were being ordered everywhere. The doctor himself was a mess. He was surprised to enter the room again to see a pale, shocked Ryoma and a crying Sakuno.

Outside, Ryoma was pacing, his adrenaline rushing.

His phone rang, and he quickly picked it up. As he expected, it was Sumire. Before she could start speaking, he told her what happened at once.

“She’s crying.” Ryoma breathed out, unable to keep the happiness in his voice. “She was crying. And everything in her eyes was supposed to be dead. She was crying. Her organs are alive. She’s not dying. She’ll survive!”

“Calm down,” Sumire said, soothing him.

“But she will,” he said with determination.

“What did the doctor say?” she asked, hope sprouting in her tone.

Ryoma was frustrated at how she was taking his news. “He said ‘Oh, God’ and brought her to the ICU. Isn’t that enough, sensei?”

“Wait there. I’ll be coming in a few minutes.”

--

--

The two days that the doctor had set somehow disappeared. It was extending to three more days, then five, then a week.

Shortly after her tears, she had opened her eyes and could see again. A few days later, she could once again speak, and hear, and sit up. A week passed, and she was walking around. And soon enough, they could see Sakuno living again. It was as if she was resurrected from death.

The doctor remained in constant alert. He had kept thinking that this one-week miraculous recovery was a lapse in the disease – that it would suddenly refold until it would go back to her past conditions. He had ordered Sakuno to stay in the hospital, despite her red cheeks, her cheerful voice… even if it was as if she was never sick.

Two weeks passed again, and the doctor had to admit the obvious.

All the traces of the Butterfly Syndrome were gone.

--

“Oh… Oh!”

Sumire enveloped Sakuno, walking straight and happy, in a big hug. Ryoma smiled to himself as he watched them both. He had been the primary testimony to Sakuno’s miraculous recovery, and he was unable to believe it himself. Sumire, afraid that the doctor was right, kept working around and preparing for the worst. After hearing the doctor’s diagnosis, she was overjoyed.

“Welcome back, Sakuno!” She buried her head like a child into the nook of Sakuno’s neck. “You look so well… so healthy…!”

“Obaa-chan!” Sakuno croaked. Her voice wasn’t fully-developed yet after months without use, but she was sounding better every day. She laughed hoarsely, as she hugged her grandmother back. “I’m glad to be home again. I missed you!”

“Don’t speak too much,” Ryoma muttered from behind her. He excused himself as he brought Sakuno’s things to her room upstairs. He felt happy, as well. He could’ve jumped for joy, but he couldn’t let himself go. Not now that Sakuno could see him do something as embarrassing as that.

--

“Ne, Ryoma-kun?”

Ryoma looked up from the seat in the house’s garden and saw Sakuno looking at him tentatively from behind the sliding door. The whole day of Sakuno’s return went by quickly – especially with how busy the house suddenly got. He smirked and motioned for her to come closer.

“A-Ah, ano,” Sakuno began, her face red. She bowed low in front of Ryoma. “Thank you very much for everything until now!” She looked up and met Ryoma’s eyes. “You helped me get through everything and I… I don’t know how I can---”

“Betsuni,” Ryoma cut her off, waving dismissively. He felt warm all over and he managed a nod.

Sakuno smiled before sitting next to Ryoma. “I… actually wanted to talk about another thing, Ryoma-kun.”

Suddenly, the warm feeling dissolved and settled at the bottom of Ryoma’s stomach. His throat tightened and he felt himself paling. “What?” Ryoma managed to ask, glancing at Sakuno. He knew the answer, though.

Sakuno touched her abdomen. “I heard from sensei.”

“Ah.”

“I was thinking of stopping school for a year and just, you know, take care of it… I told obaa-chan and she said that she wasn’t surprised…” A deep blush crept up her cheeks. “B-
But I never told her anything else s-so… Ryoma-kun wouldn’t have to worry about anything… A-Anyway, I wanted to hear what you think…”

Ryoma crossed his arms over his chest, shrugging. “I don’t know.” He looked at her. “We’re just kids.”

Sakuno nodded solemnly. She knew she had no choice – and that Ryoma felt the same way as well. A deep silence came between the two.

Ryoma couldn’t think. He had never given it much thought, especially how he was given the news. And he never could’ve predicted something like this happening. He was scared to think what was starting inside Sakuno’s body again… and if he could take it. The thought of being with Sakuno was tempting, but not tempting enough to make Ryoma forget that he still had his own future.

Sakuno getting well… just reminded him that he had a life to live, still.

“Ryoma-kun, you could go back to America, if you want.”

Ryoma turned to look at her, surprised. It was as if she read his mind. Yet now that she said that, he suddenly felt guilty.

“Don’t let me keep you back, Ryoma-kun. I’m okay now. I’m stronger and I can handle it. You saw me, didn’t you? And obaa-chan, and Tomo-chan is with me. One year in school won’t mean much, too. I can always go next year. We’re just kids, ne? There’s a wide world waiting for us out there! So let’s not give up!” She looked up and smiled. “I don’t know how else I can thank you, Ryoma-kun. Please don’t hesitate to move forward.”

When all these dawned in, Ryoma smiled back. He took her hand and gripped it tightly.

“I won’t forget.”

A few days later, Ryoma went back to America.

--

--

FEBRUARY, THE YEAR AFTER

“Nice match!”

Ryoma laughed as Kevin slapped him hard on the back. “Man, you’re doing great for a comeback,” he said, watching as Ryoma packed his racket. “It’s like you never took a break at all! Your old man’s training must’ve been hell!”

“You just have lots more to work on,” Ryoma replied, slinging his bag over his shoulder. In English, he said, “It was a piece of cake.”

“Ah, you cocky bastard!” Kevin shouted, but laughed, anyway.

The past months had been Ryoma’s way back to the top. He had a hard time getting matches with his lack of practice, but he made up with his natural ability and eagerness to get back into the field. Nanjiroh had agreed to help him train back (to his surprise) and they started as soon as Ryoma settled down. Soon enough, he was once again playing with the pros.

In the middle of the way, his phone rang and his eyes lighted up as soon as he saw the name. “I’m taking this call. You go on ahead.”

Kevin smirked. “From your girlfriend again? Seriously, don’t you two get enough of each other? It’s just a week ago when you last talked! Phone bills don’t come cheap, you know!”

Ryoma just shrugged in response, as he walked back to a quiet place. Smiling, he said into the receiver, “It’s been---”

“This is Sumire, Ryoma. Something’s wrong.”

His smile disappeared at once, and he felt panic come rushing to him. He began counting the months in his head. It had been a week short of nine months. Was she… was she in labor already? Did she have an accident? Did--- He gripped the phone. He didn’t want to know.

“Come home.” Ryoma didn’t reply. “Come home as soon as you can. Please. Please, Ryoma.” Sumire’s voice was loud. Ryoma felt himself shake. Sumire hung up without saying goodbye, and for a while, Ryoma was unable to move.

“Yes,” he said into the phone. “Yes.”

That night, he booked a flight to Japan.

--

He went directly into the hospital. The familiar smells, the familiar halls – suddenly, they seemed worse than before. A wave of nausea passed him as he went deeper into the floor. He headed to the surgery room.

In front of the room was Sumire, pale and shocked stiff. Her hands were clenched tight. It had been a whole day since the call, yet Ryoma could guess that she hadn’t moved around much. Her hair was a mess, and she looked like she hadn’t slept at all, as well. Beside her was Tomoka. She didn’t look any better, as if she had gone through hell and back. Her hands were wrapped around the old lady.

“Sensei,” Ryoma called out, his voice coming out small.

Sumire lifted her head and stood up after seeing Ryoma. She smiled weakly. “Welcome back.”

Damn it, Ryoma thought, clenching his fists, too. Can’t she just get to the point? “What happened?”

Her eyes did not leave Ryoma’s. “It came back.”

“What?”

“She was healthy, Ryoma. Then suddenly, suddenly… last night.” Sumire wrung her hands. “Everything in her body died down. It died down, for God’s sake!” She burst into a sob, but she continued talking. “She suddenly fell down. I thought she was fine. I called an ambulance, but she wasn’t moving at all.”

Quickly, Tomoka came to her aid and Ryoma put his arms on her shoulders. “Calm down, sensei!” he told her, but he was wracked up already. He couldn’t believe his ears. What was going on? What about Sakuno? What about… the child?

“Ryoma-kun,” Tomoka began, her eyes welling with tears.

I knew you liked her at once.

Ryoma wondered why she was crying. Where was the cheerful Tomoka he’s supposed to see? The person who said that he liked Sakuno even before he knew it? He wanted to shake some sense into her, to calm her down.

As if on cue, a nurse came out of the room. “The doctor asks if Echizen-san is here.”

Ryoma raised his hand halfway, and the nurse quickly handed him a hospital gown, a set of gloves and a hair cap. He put them on quickly and looked at Sumire and Tomoka one last time before he was led into the room.

The first thing he saw was Sakuno, and her big tummy, lying on a bed. There were lights around and nurses and tools. The doctor motioned for him to hurry.

“I want you to hold her hand.”

“But sensei---”

“Now!”

Ryoma did as he was told.

Sakuno’s hand felt cold, and her head turned to him. Her chocolate-brown eyes were glazed, and at once, he had realized that she couldn’t see him. “Ryoma-kun,” she whispered. “Y-You’re back.”

Ryoma could only nod, as he held onto her tighter.

She closed her eyes in pain, as the doctor worked in front of them. The smell of blood was everywhere – Ryoma couldn’t bear to look. Instead, he stared at her eyes, willing them to see again.

“Don’t die. Not now,” he hissed, his voice filled with emotion.

Sakuno’s mouth opened to let out an ear-splitting scream. It lasted for a few seconds, and it rang around them. Sakuno’s eyes tilted upward, and her hand fell limp in Ryoma’s.

And suddenly, the room fell silent.

She was gone.

--

A few days later, Ryoma would learn that what happened was the Butterfly Syndrome.

Like a butterfly, it started with a cocoon – a period much like death, when the developing caterpillar was immobile. After opening, the body would then experience its highest peak of life – healthy, happy and alive. A few days later, it would suddenly fall down and die.

What had happened before was the cocoon stage.

The next one was the real thing.

EPILOGUE

“It’s this time of the year again…”

A young man made his way through the narrow, pebbled path. The breeze was cold that day and he could feel it burning against his cheek. It felt good for him, though. A strange wave of comfort enveloped him, just like what happened every time he was there.

He had done everything he was supposed to do – visit the old grandmother in the hospital and buy a bouquet of fresh flowers. He then stopped in front of a grave with a new stick of incense burning and rice set in front of it. He reached out to touch the epitaph engraved on it, tracing the letters slowly and taking in every word. He chuckled; he had written that.

Whenever he read those words, he felt like crying. But he didn’t. He shouldn’t. It would’ve been the last thing she wanted to see. Instead, he took a deep breath and assumed a praying position.

“I’m home. Everything’s well. Ryuzaki-sensei says hello. Broke up three months ago with the girl I told you about last year.” He bowed in mock seriousness before smiling at the grave. “End of report.”

With that, he stood up to brush the dirt off his pants. He turned around, then, and saw the sleeping young boy with a familiar white cap under a tree. He smiled and made his way toward him.

He watched as the boy’s eyes fluttered open.

The cat-like eyes, the dark, messy mop of hair, the pale complexion – all of which mirrored his own. The person he had been looking forward to see again.

“Dad,” the boy mumbled drowsily, still rousing himself up from sleep. “You came.”

As their eyes settled on each other’s, with the wind rustling the petals of the February flowers in his arms, Ryoma smiled.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

THE END

Actually, the prologue and epilogue was supposed to be just a one-shot. But I thought that I wanted to write more about it, and I did. In any case, I wrote the epilogue before the other chapters so the plot was actually set from the start (though I have been tempted to change Sakuno’s fate or something, haha). I hope it somehow managed to measure up to your expectations. This story, among all that I’ve written, is my favorite. Though it didn’t get the most reviews, it was the most fun (and hardest) to write.

This will be my last update under this penname. Thank you for everything so far. It was a nice stay.

See you all around!

Neko