“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice!”

Ayame sighed, clutching her clipboard against her chest.  Why did An-chan have to come by everyday and work up Sanada-fukubuchou?  They were training for the kantou tournament – they needed Sanada’s focus!  Of course, An loved to shatter focus, especially tall, dark and handsome focus.

“Cease your ridiculous chatter.”

Oh dear, Sanada was determined now.  As stranged as it seemed, Sanada wanted to play the game.  Not suprising really.  The interest had been growing since the start of the year – weeks and weeks.  Sanada should get over himself and ask her out, at least in Ayame’s opinion.  Then he would actually have room to object to her clever flirting with other men.

She wished Yukimura was around.  Not just because he was a pretty dream for her, but because maybe he would step in and resolve the ridiculousness of it all.  Tennis was serious business.  Far more serious than the opposite sex anyway.  Unfortunately, he always seemed to be absent at these moments.  An probably planned it that way.

“Oi, Kamiya, weren’t you doing something?”

No one else seemed to notice their vice-captain’s sudden distraction.  Frowning, Ayame hitched up her chin and stepped forward.  “I’ve already finished, Marui-kun.”  She replied walking to the middle of his court.  “Your new training menu-”

“We do notice you know,” He interrupted, his voice almost a whisper.

“What?”

Marui sighed, snapping his gum impatiently, even as Niou, Kirihara and Jackal wandered over as well.  “You looked as if you were the only one aware that Sanada-fukubuchou has been… distracted as of late.”

Ayame turned wide eyes on all four boys.  “You mean, you all see it too?”

Kirihara snorted and Jackal sighed.  Niou cackled only to be smothered by Marui, who shushed him forcefully.  “You’d have to be blind not to see it.”  Niou chortled.  “How could we not notice the sudden lack of his ‘petrifying’ stare?”

“An-chan is cruel,” Kirhara grumbled with a half grin.  “Boxing him in like that.  Man doesn’t have a chance.”

“Indeed not, but I believe he prefers it that way.”

Yagyuu and Yanagi joined them, completing the circle around Ayame.  They were terrible gossips – even the ones that pretended they weren’t.  And when there was gossip about Sanada, well… It was an ugly thing.  An amusing, but ugly thing.

“What you want to bet she has to ask him out for him to get it?”

“She already wears the pants, why not?”

“An-chan is used to getting what she wants,” Ayame added with a small giggle.

The boys paused, apparently having forgotten she was there.  Then there was laughter in various forms.  But having reminded them of her presence, she had garnered their attention as well.  “But Ayame-chan is not, ne?” Niou smirked, leaning his lanky body forward.

“Eh?” Ayame blinked, red crawling up her ears.

Marui and Kirihara caught the silver-haired mischief maker’s meaning and grins reflected off teasing faces.  “Maybe you should take a lesson from your friend, Ayame-chan,” Kirihara drawled.

Oh. My. God.  They knew.  Somehow they knew!  Panic grew in direct proportion to the blush on her face.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She stammered with wide eyes.

“He does suffer a similar blindness as Sanada,” Yanagi said clinically.

“What?  Who?” She tried to act like she had no idea what was going on, but she knew.  She was sadly, painfully aware of who they were talking about and couldn’t believe they knew.

An!

“On the other hand, she is the only girl he has extensive contact with besides his sister and mother.” Yagyuu it seemed, couldn’t help but join the fun.  She should have expected as much.

Niou pondered for a second before shaking his head.  “Not true!  There’s a girl in our class who sits beside him – seems to me he’s always talking to her.”

Ayame did not expect the sharp shot of sadness-tinged jealousy.  Curling into herself, she struggled to maintain some semblance of calm in her expression.  That would be all she needed – for the vultures to pick up on her emotions.

“But Kamiya has tennis, and buchou always chooses tennis-”

“So I do.”

None of them saw or heard him coming.  He simply materialized behind Ayame.  Ayame herself got no warning before a warm yellow cloth was dropped over her head.  His scent enveloped her along with the fabric.  It was clean and masculine and Ayame felt herself die a little bit inside.

“And so should you,” Yukimura continued, his voice deeper than normal.  It was almost scary.  “Start running.”

Apparently the six boys thought so too, since none of them complained.  Only Kirihara had the gall to say anything, and then it was a meek, “How many laps?”

The blue haired captain set a cold gaze on the first year.  “I did not say.”

Ayame was left mortified under the jacket wondering how much of the conversation he had heard.  Her luck always had been terrible.  He probably heard it all.

She was absurdly warm, his jacket serving as both an insulator and a shield.  At least in the small, Yukimura scented world under the jacket she felt safe from the snickers and the teasing.

“You should have set them back to work, Ayame-san.” The timber of his voice was still deep, but it no longer had the menace that it had held.  There was barely any reprimand.

Ayame’s head bobbed, looking almost comical beneath the yellow jacket.  “Maybe.  But it’s actually Sanada-kun’s fault.”

“Oh?”

He was smiling, she could feel it – a good sign!  It gave her the courage to tug the jacket down enough to peek at him.  He was standing in front of her and he was, indeed smiling.  His eyes were dark, but they carried the brightness of his smile all the same.  “Yes.”  She replied, voice stronger.  “He’s been distracted…and the others have noticed.”

“Ahh,” he laughed softly, tilting his head.  “I believe I understand.  I suffer the same affliction myself.”

She faltered, smothering her grimace of pain.  A faceless girl floated behind her eyes, taunting her.  Of course there was someone else.  He was Yukimura Seiichi, quote possibly the most sought after boy in Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku – any of the divisions.  It was only a matter of time before some girl managed to catch his attention.

“I have spoken to Sanada, he assured he would resolve the situation.  Although personally, I don’t see how.  An-san is very distracting and will probably remain so – as girls usually do.”

What was she supposed to say?  In truth, she couldn’t even think straight by that point.

Yukimura’s smile sharpened, but his eyes softened.  “I cannot believe that you have missed my cleverly hidden meaning, Ayame-san.  Aren’t you at all curious as to who my An-san is?”

“Absolutely not!” was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bear to speak the words.  They would only give away the reason for her blush and it was bad enough that the rest of the team knew.  Still, she had to say something, since he had asked her a direct question.  “Yukimura-kun’s business is his business,” she said finally in a chiked voice.  “I have no right to intrude.”

He laughed, eyes brightening and smile gentling once more.  “You’re very sweet, Ayame-san,” he murmured, reaching out to touch the edge of his jacked on the top of her head.  “But you take the fun out of my game.”

Ayame blinked.  “I’m sorry?”

She suddenly found her personal space to be in short supply as he leaned over and tugged the jacket over both their heads.  “Ayame-san is my An-san,” he whispered against her forehead.  “My distraction.”

“But the girl in your class-”

His next kiss landed on the tip of her nose.  “Niou was cruel to suggest that I have any interest in Shiina-san.”

His shifting mouth was diverting, so much so that her normally sharp brain flew completely out the window.  “Is it because I like tennis?”

Amused, Yukimura closed his mouth over hers.  “It helps,” he mumbled.  “Love and tennis can never be divorced.”

Ayame fell into him and forgot that they were standing in the middle of club courts with a jacket over their heads.  She forgot how silly they looked and about the six boys running circles around them.

She forgot about An and Sanada.

Distracted.