Sunset in Winter

Once upon a winter, the lives of two people were changed by a single photograph.

It was just another normal day, in the life of an everyday girl.

Not.

was your normal university student. At the age of eighteen and fighting to keep her grades decent enough, her only ambition was to paint. Her dreams, her goals and hopes had suddenly taken the form of a five-year long scholarship in five different art universities in Europe two weeks ago.

It was a once in a life-time opportunity, and one she could get only by winning a certain contest posted two weeks ago in the main board of the university in which she studied.

was pretty confident when it came to her abilities in painting, her skills were the best among her fellow classmates, but there was only one thing that kept her from painting:

Inspiration.

That was the thing with her; without inspiration, she was unable to draw one single line.

Her art teacher and her best friend had taken pity on her, and decided to help her gain some inspiration. They gave her a camera, told her they would come pick her up in two hours, and shoved her inside Hyoutei University. couldn't help but wonder what inspiration she could find in a building full of rich and mostly bratty people when the painting had to be about landscapes.

Why didn't they shove her inside a CD recording company? There at least she would be able to drool over her favorite singers while wandering around aimlessly. A sigh came, and she shook her head, deciding it was time to stop thinking about handsome singers and focus on the task at hand; finding inspiration.

Too bad no one has ever written a handbook about where to find it.

Her footsteps echoed through the marble floors as her steps kept her going straight ahead in an even rhythm. Her golden eyes strayed from one part of the hall to another, looking for something that would spark even a bit of inspiration within her.

Her feet took her to the tennis courts, and there was nothing out of the ordinary about them. Why did people fawn over them anyway? The only thing that was clear to her was that the tennis players had enough of an ego with all those fans to fill all the tennis courts around the world.

She continued her stroll through the courts, finding nothing out of the ordinary or capable of giving her inspiration, left the tennis courts and headed for the main building. She stepped inside, and marbled at the sight of the empty halls bathed in the rays of the setting sun.

As she walked in front of an opened door, she stopped and looked inside. Her breath caught as her eyes widened over the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen. The sun was a bright crimson sphere of light that slowly sank between mountains painted in a light orange shade. The clouds were tinted in scarlet, with golden rays of light in between them.

She felt the harsh impact of inspiration, first in her heart, then in her mind, and she knew she had to paint that breathtaking setting, but storing it in her mind wouldn't be enough. She blessed the camera in her hands and the nosy friend that was the reason it was currently in her possession.

She raised it to her face in silence, afraid that any word could break the unbelievable beauty of it all. She focused it. She was no expert, but she sure as hell knew how to take a photograph. clicked on the button and waited several seconds for it to take the photo. But she never expected what happened next.

Two figures, which were previously hidden by the semi-opened door, fell to the floor in an entangled heap, when the photograph was taken.

She stared, the two people in the floor stared back from what could be taken as an intimate position. It took some seconds for it to register in her mind that both belonged to the male gender, and that both were well known tennis players from tournaments all through junior and senior high as well as the years they had been in university.

Atobe Keigo, captain of Hyoutei University's tennis team and the owner of the fantasies of thousands of teenagers. The other was Oshitari Yuushi, a darker type of handsomeness compared to Atobe's fair features and stylish looks, the so-called tensai of Hyoutei.

And both were…

…Gay…?

And she had captured the "not so normal" moment with her camera. She blushed madly, bowed and apologized repeatedly, and off she was, running at top speed down the end of the hall.

She felt some commotion behind her, and it didn't take to be a genius to know that one or both had stood up and were currently running after her judging by the heavy footsteps that resounded behind her.

The day couldn't get any better.

Behind her, a voice she recognized as Atobe's cursed and shouted at her to stop, bystanders just looked at them both oddly. was sure that would be Hyoutei's hot gossip for a while to come: Atobe chasing after an unknown girl not from Hyoutei.

was grateful for having been in the track team for the last six years of her life, because when she saw the exit ahead, she sped up as much as she could, and flew past the metal gates of the university.

She forgot about her best friend and art teacher that were going to pick her up in an hour at most.

Looking behind and slowing down when she was a safe distance away, the art student's eyes went from place to place, trying to see if the captain had given up on chasing after her. smiled in satisfaction when she didn't see Atobe anywhere, and continued her trip home walking.

She was free.

She never heard the light clatter of her college ID when it fell on the stoned floor near the metal gates, nor saw Atobe looking at it carefully.

**********

Two weeks and an unfinished painting later…

Atobe set foot inside the university and shivered. Everything was oh so common it was making him dizzy. He looked around, his brow set in a frown that managed to look elegant. There were countless of people coming and going in a general ruckus of bright clothing and constant chatter. But he didn't see the face of the female that had taken the picture among the other students, so there were only three possible things that could be.

One, she had left already, which was unlikely, seeing it was still too early.

Second, she had not gone to school that day and his visit would be pointless and a waste of time.

Third, she was in a class.

He didn't like any of the three.

Making up his mind to look for her around some more, he started walking with no destination in mind, looking for the slender girl.

, she was just another average girl. Normal black hair and golden eyes. A normal body, normal clothing. She was another every-day girl that happened to have a picture that could bring up a scandal he sure as hell didn't want to face.

Much less if Oshitari Yuushi was involved.

He started walking with sure steps, looking around, ignoring those that stared at him oddly. He entered one of the long buildings as if he owned it, looking at the labels of the doors, and through the crystal set in the hard metal of each, peering inside like a curious newcomer. A door opened and closed, Atobe looked towards the source of the sound. He watched a brown haired girl wave goodbye to someone inside, and told her not too leave school too late. A laugh escaped through the open door, and a feminine voice told the other girl not to worry.

The brown haired girl was nowhere in sight when it registered in Atobe's mind that the voice was exactly like 's. He walked quickly to the still opened door and looked inside. Just a he had predicted, the teenage girl was inside, drinking a can of some common soda, leaning against the sill of the window she was looking through.

She made an exquisite picture, bathed in the rays of sun light, shadows hanging to her skin in all the right places. His eyes went down her slender arms, and he noticed a piece of paper with a familiar setting.

"Ahn? Ore-sama finally found you."

jerked around, eyes wide. She had recognized his voice immediately. Atobe smirked; she remembered the incident; that would make things easier for him, and the easiest they were, the faster he could get out of that place.

"Who are you?" asked wearily, her body was tense, her sharp eyes never leaving his form.

"You know pretty well who Ore-sama is." Atobe took off his sun glasses, her own gaze narrowed.

"Atobe Keigo-san," she began. "I can't begin to fathom what business brings you here."

"The picture you took of Ore-sama and Oshitari. Give it to me," Atobe said, extending a hand towards her.

She hid the piece of paper behind her back.

"Not giving it up?" He asked. He started walking towards her.

"If you step any closer, I swear I'll scream," threatened.

Atobe moved quickly, far too quickly, opened her mouth to scream, but his lips came crashing down on hers to silence her. His hands grabbed her wrists, but before he could get the picture, she let it fall on the floor.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" Came a worried voice from the door, released herself from Atobe's vice-like grip and quickly took the picture from the floor as she ran towards her fellow classmate, the same brown-haired girl that had been earlier on the room. "I was going to get something to eat, and wondered if you wanted to come…" She finished in a whisper. Looking between the handsome young man she had never seen and her best friend who was smiling freakishly.

grabbed the door. "No, no, it's okay, I was about to leave anyway, and food sounds great, Mai! See you around, Kei-chan." She sneered the last word before she practically dragged her friend away.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend." Mai innocently stated.

Neither did I. She wanted to say, but no matter how crazy the moment had been, she could just not say that. She opened her mouth to say something…

"!!!"

"Oh, shit," whispered, then turned to Mai with a smile. "I'm really, really hungry! Let's hurry, ne?" And off she was, dragging her poor friend along.

Mai had never run that fast before in her life.

That night, Atobe seethed, cursed, ranted, and mumbled nonsense for more than two hours. Even the maids and butler were staring at him oddly; but hope wasn't lost. He knew were to find her.

**********

The next day, expected Atobe to come again. And he did.

But not in a way she expected.

She was currently sitting on his limo. Arms crossed, frown in her face, and completely ignoring a certain tennis player that was asking her where the picture was. The guy had used his popularity in a way she never expected; by luring all his fans at university to find and bring her to him. Well, it had worked, and damn too well.

", what do you want in return for the picture?" Atobe's question jerked her out from her musings. "Money? Fame?"

What the hell was the dumbass talking about? Money? She wanted to earn her own money. Fame? No thank you. She was not a social person.

"I want neither."

"Then? What do you want from Ore-sama?!" He demanded. He had raised his voice, but never in the same way he just did. Her golden eyes found his angry sea-green ones and for a moment she found herself unable to answer his question. "Well?" He pressed.

"What makes you think I want something from you?" She asked, emotion carefully contained from her voice. She was not going to show this arrogant prick the uncomfortable feeling that suddenly made her heart flutter. She saw they were currently in a stop and weighted her chances of jumping off the car.

Atobe read her mind, and his hand seized her wrist. "Don't even think about it." He hissed. This woman was testing his patience, and god knew he was not a saint. She tried to jerk her hand from him, but no matter how strong she pulled in any direction, his grip didn't falter, he held on, and her wrist was starting to ache.

"Look," She started, her mind looking for a means to get out of her current situation. "I have nothing against you or Oshitari. I won't tell anyone about your relationship--"

"You won't because there is none."

ignored him. "Or that you are gay--"

"Ore-sama, at least, is not."

"Because I'm not that kind of person--"

"Ore-sama is not sure about that." He snorted.

"And this is my stop!"

Atobe just blinked when the girl got out of the car. He hadn't noticed the moment his grip had loosened, but it certainly hadn't escaped her. He watched her go in frustration, the idea of going after her popped into his mind briefly before he snorted at the absurdity of the idea. Chasing after someone would be undignified for someone such as himself.

"We are going home." He barked at the driver.

The next day was alerted of Atobe's presence at the main gate by Mai. She thanked the fact that he was eye-catching whenever he went, and that his limo was a dead give-away. As soon as Mai had said the words "boyfriend" and "main gate" was running top speed in the opposite direction.

The next five days she exited the university using the rear gate, even if she had to walk through the entire campus. She wasn't up to facing Atobe when doing her painting took all her energy, but she had yet to learn that Atobe was no fool.

It was the sixth day, somewhere around two thirty in the afternoon, that Atobe strolled inside the empty art classroom where was, wearing a frown between his slender eyebrows and a thin line in his lips as greeting.

He was the epitome of frustration and anger.

He stopped at the doorway, knowing that if he walked in further, she would take the chance and bolt for the door. He waited patiently for a few moments for her to notice his presence, and when she didn't he took several steps inside the classroom.

was listening to music, the reason why he hadn't heard his entrance, and the iPod in her back pocket was clear evidence of that. He let his eyes stray to whatever she was doing, and blinked in surprise.

Her right hand was moving quickly over a canvas, drawing careful strokes of color. Her sight shifted continuously from the canvas to the picture in her free hand, and he was finally able to understand the reason she didn't want to give him the photo. But still, he couldn't let her have it as easy as that.

With a deft hand, he unplugged her headphones from the iPod, and caught her wrist before it could hit him by accident as she twirled around to face the intruder. Her eyes widened when they landed on him. "Atobe." She sounded as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Thought you had ridden yourself of Ore-sama that easily?" He taunted, not releasing her wrist, but he made no move to take the photograph that hand held. "Ore-sama is willing to come to an agreement if you agree with certain terms."

's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"That picture will be kept in Ore-sama's possession at all times. Meaning that when you paint, Ore-sama will be there."

thought it over in the next moments of silence that ensued after his proposition. She knew she had no other option. It was either; playing by his rules, or put up with his constant harassing. And there was still a long way to go before she could finish her painting. "Fine."

"Good." Atobe nodded. "We both are in winter break, so managing our schedules will be no big deal. Ore-sama will pick you up here tomorrow at nine. You'll be painting in Ore-sama's mansion. Be prompt." He left no space to argue, he snatched the picture from her hand and left, leaving her stunned form behind.

That became their routine.

He would always pick her up at the gate of her university at nine sharp, they would pass the entire morning with sharp comebacks at each other, cookies, tea, a good book and a canvas yet to be finished. Then he would drag her out to lunch if he felt like it, or eat at his home in his parents' presence if the occasion came to it. She was free during the afternoons, when she was far too tired to continue, and it had become her habit to follow him into Hyoutei while fighting over nonsense when he had tennis practices. Then she would watch him play for the entire time after that.

Each time she saw him play, she felt moved beyond words, she couldn't help how she smiled each time he played, and realized that Atobe did enjoy himself while he was in the court, racket in hand, eyes focused on the small, fuzzy, green ball. Perhaps it was a similar feeling to that she felt while painting? If it was, Atobe was not as shallow as she thought at the beginning.

She liked his friends too. Atobe never told them how they met, perhaps the only one that actually knew was Oshitari himself, judging by the amused smiles he sent her way when their eyes met.

The practice for all the team members ended, but the regulars stayed behind to play some more. Atobe walked towards her and casually sat down next to her, without thinking handed a bottle of water to him, which he took as mechanically as she had handed it; he took a big gulp of water, whipping the sweat from his forehead as he did so. He looked pleased, noted, and truly satisfied.

Their knees touched by accident, a contact that seemed to be lost to Atobe, who was looking at his team intently, she, however, couldn't control the shiver that ran up and down her spine. "You truly enjoy playing tennis, don't you?" She asked quietly, her eyes lost in the fine lines of his face.

He turned, his sea-green eyes were slightly wider than usual, the only proof that her sudden question had surprised him. The surprise melted into a grin. "I do." smiled as well as both turned to watch the practice in silence. Somehow, that day she felt closer to him than ever.

**********

As winter dragged on, Atobe found himself more and more in 's company. Practices had been cut shorter and shorter until they were dismissed entirely when the cold became too much to handle even inside the gym. For that same very reason stayed longer in his mansion, painting until she could no longer feel her hand and her eyes watered, and it was usually Atobe who order her to take a break and eat something the maids had brought, or join him and his parents for dinner.

advanced more and more in her painting each day, and the due date was approaching quickly. Perhaps faster than Atobe would have liked, but he still had to find a way to make time do his bidding like everything and everyone else.

Now that he thought about it, Atobe had never asked what the prize was.

His eyes sought the figure of the aforementioned; the black-haired artist was staring intently at her painting, her eyes had a strange mix of emotion in them, and no matter how hard he tried to decipher the unspoken words the gold of her irises reflected. "Something wrong?" He asked her, resting the book he was reading on his lap.

shook her head. "No," A heavy sigh made her frame shake slightly. "I guess I'm just tired. I better go home."

Atobe nodded, standing up. "I'll take you home."

smiled at him. "Thank you," She shook her head gently at him. "But I must decline. There is still light out, and the station is not far from here."

Atobe starred oddly at her, but agreed nonetheless. "As you wish."

"I know the way out." She looked once over her shoulder as she opened the door of his study. "See you tomorrow."

"Aa, tomorrow."

He stood alone in silence when closed the door behind her. He stood still until he no longer could hear her echoing footsteps. '…'

**********

The day in which she finished the painting finally came.

was not sure what she had felt the moment she had placed the brush next to her other things, clean of paint and not to be used again in that same canvas. Elation and pride, in herself and the work she had created with her own hands; that she knew, that she was familiar with.

But the pang of sadness and melancholy came as a surprise to her. It had been twenty-seven days since the first time she had set foot inside Atobe's mansion, and now that the only reason they had created some kind of weird bond was gone, the art student wondered what would become of the frail friendship they had.

What now? Her mind whispered. stepped back from the painting, looking at it carefully, it was her best piece of art, she was sure, and yet she was not satisfied with it.

She turned towards the couch, her hair dancing over her shoulders as she did so. Her sight caught the object that had started the weird thoughts in her head. A gentle smile drew itself in her lips when she saw him, sprawled on the couch, his book long forgotten on the floor as he slept soundly on his side.

He looked cute. admitted with a soft glance in his direction. Adorably so.

She walked slowly to him, crouching next to his sleeping form, watching him as carefully as she had done with the canvas. His face was relaxed, his eyebrows arched in what she considered to be a perfect line over his almond-shaped eyes. His thick, black lashes were resting against his pale cheeks, which were glowing golden with the light of the day as it slowly drained away to dusk. There were some rebel strands of hair over his cheek as well, others were caressing his neck and she realized his hair was longer than she had thought.

Softly, with a tender hand, she removed the stray hair away from his cheek, back into the mass of silky grey hair. She was sure his hair was a lot silkier than her own. Atobe blinked slowly, feeling something touching his cheek softly. He caught 's hand as it retreated from his cheek in a loose grip, mind still hazy with sleep.

's smile greeted his eyes. "?"

Her smile didn't falter from her face as she turned back to the canvas. "It's finished."

He followed her gaze, and his breath caught in his throat. He knew was an excellent artist, for he had seen the progress she had done over the days he saw her paint hours on end, but seeing her finished work was something else entirely.

It seemed real, very much so; he felt as if he was standing in the hall out of his homeroom. The door was half open, just as it had been that fateful day in which they met. The desks and chairs were bathed in copper, gold and chestnut, the floors shone in beige and light yellow. Beyond the visible twin windows winter laid outstretched, the snow changing from red, orange, light pink and yellow accordingly. The sun, hidden between mountains, a deep crimson shade, the sky a light orange and the clouds tinted in violet and red.

"It's beautiful," He breathed, and could only nod, sitting down next to him.

She mewled as she extended her arms and legs, much like a cat would. She closed her eyes and went limp against the couch; looking content in the warmth of his study, with light cascading over her honeyed skin and tender smile, basking in the comfortable silence between them, and his sole presence in the room.

Without thinking it twice, Atobe found himself moving, his arm caging the raven-haired artist against the couch as he caught her lips with his own. 's eyes snapped open at the weight against her lips, and it took a moment to register that Atobe was kissing her again; not heated and oppressive like it had been the first time, but light and hesitant. It dawned on her that Atobe was not sure if he was doing the correct thing.

She smiled against his lips and her limp arms rose to his neck as she pressed her lips more firmly to his. Atobe took the action as acceptance and relaxed against her. He angled his head slightly to the side, and deepened the kiss.

They broke away, breathing heavily. stared at him, an apparent blush rose in her cheeks; her eyes closed and she rested her head on his shoulder. He settled back into the couch, drawing her to him, holding her as his head fell against hers. "Ne, Atobe…"

"Keigo. Ore-sama will only give you the privilege of calling Ore-sama by his first name."

laughed loudly at this. No matter the occasion, Atobe would be always an arrogant prick. "Very well, Keigo. Can you meet me next week? On Thursday afternoon?"

"Sure. W-where?"

looked at her painting with emotions dueling in her heart. "At the coffee shop in front of my university."

"That little place with the railing that overlooks the lake?" He asked in astonishment.

"Aa, that one." nodded sagely. "They make the best coffee you'll ever taste."

"And if it's not? What does Ore-sama gain from his sacrifice?" He asked slyly.

seemed to think about it, putting a finger in her lips. "What do you want?"

"Your word that you'll say 'yes' to whatever Ore-sama says."

looked indignant. "No way! What if you make me do something embarrassing?"

Atobe matched her indignant look. "That's below Ore-sama."

sighed. "Very well, you win."

Atobe smirked in victory, then frowned. "I never asked what the prize was."

's eyes closed, the pang of sadness she had felt earlier had returned even stronger than the previous time. "A five-year long scholarship in Europe."

The mood dropped considerably, and neither failed to notice this. "Really? That's good."

But he couldn't bring himself to believe his own words.

**********

Thursday, the day in which her art teacher would tell her who had won the contest, arrived faster than she ever imagined. She currently sat in the empty classroom, staring at her own painting, her eyes lost in the swirl of different colors it had to offer as she waited for her teacher to return from the meeting.

The door slid open, and the female teacher in her mid thirties stepped inside. "Sensei?" She asked softly. Her teacher smiled gently as she walked towards her canvas and studied it. "What were the results?"

"You didn't win." Came the statement, and went blank, not knowing what she really felt. "You were close, very close, but someone gave you a nine, while there was another artist who got a ten instead."

blinked. "Who gave me the nine?"

The woman looked at , a sad knowing look. "I did." There were a few moments of utter silence as her teacher turned back to the canvas. "Your skills have improved greatly from your last work."

"But there is something missing." looked at her teacher with bright golden eyes.

"Indeed there is." The woman nodded. "Your heart left this canvas, and the possibilities that laid with it." Her knowing gaze focused on 's face. "And even now remains in that place." She gestured the painting with one hand. "And that place, my dear child…"

Her teacher stopped with a sigh, proud and sad for reasons was unable to understand, as her eyes danced over the desks and chairs in the canvas.

"Is this classroom."

**********

Pro-Tennis Magazine Article

The Kanto Tournament is finally coming to an end. The only thing left to see is who will claim the title of regional champion in the match a week from now. Both teams have a long history of hard-fought matches, incredible teamwork, suspenseful moments and unbelievable actions done in the last possible minute.

Hyoutei and Seigaku are promising to show the greatest final match ever in the Kantou Tournament's history. But the question still remains.

Who will come out as the winner?

This won't be easy on either team, but at the moment Seigaku seems to be at a greater disadvantage, for Hyoutei has been showing a strength they had never revealed before, especially the captain, Atobe Keigo; who even under the unforgiving hot sun we got this summer, has been dominating the court from beginning to end of each game.

Could the source of his new found strength be a certain raven-haired young woman we caught him kissing in front of a railing overlooking a beautiful lake? Or perhaps it was the coffee he had been drinking that day?

Or perhaps…

##########

January 24, 2007
Written by: Yoru Inu
Edited by: Rikapyon!