A/N: It's been a really long time guys. I just realized I had never written a Kirihara/Sakuno fic and they're my favorite crackship! I've been busy, but I really wanted to stretch my writing capabilities and get back in the groove, plus pout more of this pair out in the fandom.

I really like this universe I created for these two characters. I might make more one-shots existing in it if I'm inspired.

Dedicated to: chocolvr69 Thank you for the inspiration dear!

She pulled up to the apartment complex in high spirits. Ryuzaki Sakuno opened her car door and stepped out into the outdoor parking space. She took a deep breath and sighed in happiness at the fresher air that surrounded her in Kyoto. The maple leaves around her were turning beautiful shades, of gold, orange and scarlet around her.

Nothing could be better than this, she thought.

This was her first apartment as a single woman. Now twenty-two years old, Sakuno was by no means outgoing like her ever present friend Tomoko. Yet she had no longer allowed fears to trap her and people to step all over her, as she had proven when she had dumped the domineering presence of Echizen Ryoma in their senior year of college ad taken up a position making traditional sweets in the ancient city of Kyoto.

Her now shoulder length brown hair flowed freely in the chilly October wind. Jutting her hip out to close the front door, she smiled and cheerily headed to the trunk of her car to fetch her belonging. It wasn't much, nothing stood out except her many kitchen utensils, ranging from modern to traditional Japanese cooking instruments. She didn't posess many articles of clothing, everything else she brought consisted of books, bed sheets, toiletries, and a few stuffed animals so she wouldn't feel too lonely.

She would never admit it though. She was a grown woman now. Her grandmother had not been too happy about her plans. Ryuzaki Sumire had blamed her sudden desire to move to Kyoto on her break up with Ryoma, until Sakuno had (as politely as possible) told her it had been her that broke up with Ryoma, not the other way around. That shut her grandmother up long enough for Sakuno to make all the arrangements with the shop and the landlord. Her grandmother couldn't do anything about it now, as Sakuno was using the money she had saved up from her job at a bakery when she was in college.

Sakuno was so excited that when she had gathered her suitcase, a backpack, and two boxes worth of belongings, she didn't notice the other car pull in next to her. Heading towards the elevator, Sakuno hummed to herself, juggling her belongings in her hands. Suddenly she felt a presence next to her. She couldn't see the face over the boxes in her hands, but squinting down she saw the long legs and powerful stride of a man wearing jeans.

He must be a resident here, she thought, vaguely noticing his lack of belongings in his hands. Reaching the elevator she tried to free one of her hands from the heavy boxes she was carrying. After several moments she saw a large, but almost slender, hand press the 'Up' button.

Without the capability to bow she muttered a small 'Thank you'. She had never been good at starting conversation unless it was with a customer, so she left it at that. The man didn't say anything.

When the elevator doors slid open the man strode in before she could even make a move.

Well that was rude, she thought, rolling her eyes behind the safety of her belongings as she wobbled in behind him.

When she settled in she heard his drawl,

"What floor?"

His voice sounded bored and slightly arrogant. He probably spoke with over-confidence when conversing with a fellow peer.

"Fifth floor," she replied.

There was a pause, and then she heard him press the button. She never heard him press another, though.

Oh dear goodness, she begged, eyeing the ceiling as if she could communicate with God. Please don't let him be my neighbor. I've had enough of arrogant men for a lifetime.

It was in this moment she reflected on how much she changed and was willing to put up with since her middle school and high school days. Well, she reasoned, she had to mature sometime. Besides, her Tezuka nii-chan had finally gotten tired of her being a push over. Luckily, she had taken his words to heart.

The soft ding of the elevator summoned her out of memory lane, and before the man could even think of exiting the elevator, she was one step ahead of. She grinned to herself. And so many people thought short girls couldn't be quick…

She headed down the outside hallway, feeling the breeze lift her auburn hair. She heard the footsteps of the man behind her. Out of reflex, she quickened her step. The man seemed to pick up his pace. At the very end of the hallway she saw her new apartment. Number 520. Reaching the door she sighed, hastening to get out the key she received from the landlord when she said she'd take the place. She heard the man's footsteps stop. Assuming he had reached his apartment, she balanced her boxes in her left hand and with her right she inserted the key.

Suddenly a pale hand shot out and grabbed her wrist with a strong grip.

"What are you doing entering MY apartment?"

She looked up and saw vivid, dark green eyes and a mop of black hair.

"What do you mean this can't be fixed?"

Sakuno flinched as Kirihara Akaya, of all the people in the world to wind up stuck with, yelled at the landlord at the front door.

"I told you, Kirihara-san, that if you didn't pay your rent on time the new computer system would wipe your name from the register, send you an email to move out, and I would go looking for a new tenant!" The old man snapped.

The landlord was a crooked little old man. He was stooped over, holding a polished mahogany walking stick in his gnarled, wrinkled hand, with small brown eyes, and receding gray hair. Sakuno thought of him as a cute little grandpa until this incident. No matter what Kirihara argued the old man would snap right back. Never had she seen someone fight with Kirihara like that, even though she had only seen him on the tennis courts in junior high school.

"Do you know how hard it is to find a new job in this recession?" Kirihara yelled, not giving a damn that he was technically being disrespectful to an elder. It annoyed Sakuno. "I told you two months ago that I was cut from my job and it was going to take awhile!"

"Then you should have tried to find another way to come up with the money in the mean time!" The landlord replied testily.

He bent to the side to get a look at Sakuno, who had been sitting on her suitcase just inside the doorway for an hour. She had forced her way when Kirihara was calling the landlord, refusing to budge until this issue was resold.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Ryuzaki-chan," he said, bowing as far as his frail body would let him. "Kirihara-kun is stubborn."

Sakuno quickly stood up and bowed low.

"Oh no sir, you're not the one causing the trouble!"

Kirihara scowled at her.

"I'm afraid this cannot be resolved until Kirihara-kun moves out, although I can call the police since technically he's a squatter…"

"Squatter my ass!" Kirihara said curtly. He pulled an envelope from out of his pocket and slapped it into the old man's free hand. "There's the rent for the past two months. I secured a loan because I was able to get a job recently. I start next week. Now, get her to move out or I'll call the police!"

Kirihara jabbed a finger at Sakuno, making her widen her eyes in fear. He smirked.

The landlord reached in the envelope, withdrew the money and started counting the yen bills. After a few moments he shook his head and said.

"You can certainly stay, Kirihara-kun, but you have no authority to kick Sakuno out. She's paid rent for the next six months. So, now, you're roommates."

Sakuno's jaw dropped to the floor and Kirihara just stared blankly at the now grinning old man. The young man opened his mouth and said plainly,

"What the fuck?"

Later that night, Kirihara was still glaring at her as she unpacked her things on the other side of the living room. It was an apartment that was styled slightly traditionally, so that the living room was literally every room except the kitchen and the bathroom. Luckily, there were two small bathrooms, and a sufficient size kitchen. It was no poor man's hovel, a bit on the expensive side, but it was not the place she had expected a man like Kirihara Akaya to reside.

They had divided the living room. Kirihara was closest to the T.V. and the bathroom, which was fine with Sakuno. It meant she was closer to the kitchen. She had been surprised; she had to admit, at how clean the place was. She expected all boys to be complete pigs, but apparently that wasn't the case.

"Just stay on your side until we get this figured out," Kirihara snarled.

"Your temper is just as good as ever I see," Sakuno sighed. "A shame too. You seemed good natured off the tennis court."

Kirihara's eyes widened slightly.

"How do you know I played tennis?"

She looked at him, her eyes meeting his.

"You played Seigaku, I remember you because sometimes your eyes would become blood red," She shivered at the memory. "It was frightening."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Stand up," he commanded.

She looked at him incredulously.

"Excuse me?"

"Stand up!" He barked.

Afraid of his temper, she obeyed. Far from gladly though. She was not the Sakuno that took orders easily anymore.

Something flickered in his eyes. Recognition?

"I remember you," he commented dryly. "Coach Ryuzaki's granddaughter."

With that he flopped down on his futon, turned his back to her, and didn't speak for the rest of the night.

The next morning Sakuno got up early to peruse the kitchen. Looking in the fridge for its contents, she frowned when she saw the bare minimum of bottled water, some beer, and questionable looking milk. Going to the food pantry, she already had a sneaking suspicion of what was in it. Opening it up she scrunched up her nose as her suspicions were confirmed. It was full of instant ramen.

"How does he stay so trim?" She muttered.

With a sigh, she closed the pantry. Hurrying to the free bathroom where she had placed her toiletries and, with great foresight, today's clothes she showered and got dress. All done, her freshly blow-dried, she peeked out of the bathroom to see Kirihara still sleeping. She had been lucky that night that her new roommate didn't snore.

As far as I know, she thought.

Grabbing her purse from her stack of belongings she rushed out the door and headed to the super market down the street. Hopefully she wouldn't get lost.

Which of course, she did. After two hours of searching, shopping, and searching again, she made her way back with enough groceries to feed an army. When she reached the door to the apartment, she literally couldn't retrieve her key. Praying for strength, she knocked on the door with her head.

There was a shuffling inside, a few moments of fear that Kirihara wouldn't open the door, and then she heard the click of a lock and the door opened. There Kirihara stood, wearing a pair of jeans, a white cotton long sleeve shirt, and a towel on his head of curls.

"I knew it was too good to be true," he muttered. Nevertheless he stood aside so she could hobble in.

"Did you buy out the whole store?" he asked.

"With the way your kitchen is, I had too," she replied. "Now, if you want any semblance of breakfast, you'll help me put this away."

She waited until it sunk in that probably for the first time in a long, long, long time that he would get a home-cooked meal. With amazing speed he was helping her pack up the groceries into the refrigerator and pantry.

When he was done he looked at her, almost expectantly. She stifled a giggle and with all seriousness said, "Unpack my suitcase,"

He gave her a strange look.

"Aren't your clothes in there? Unless you want me to look at your underwear like a sick pervert…"

He grinned wolfishly, and she blushed. Not just because of his comment, but because it was the first time he was acting, well, semi-friendly. Even if it was a little crude.

Taking a big breath she said through her embarrassment, "No, they're in the boxes. I packed all my cooking supplies in my suitcase."

Another hour later and the once bare kitchen looked like a chef's private getaway. Kirihara and Sakuno sat on the ground, having pulled an ancient table out of the depths of who-knows-where. They were eating a Korean style breakfast, as Sakuno had been craving it. Kimchi stew, rice, seaweed, kimchi side dish with a few more side dishes of other pickled vegetables. The spicy soup hit just the right spot on a cold autumn day.

"Did you know this about me too?" He said after another sip of the soup.

Sakuno looked up at him curiously.

He smiled, a small, genuine smile.

"My mom's family is Korean immigrants. I love Korean food."

Sakuno couldn't help but give a smile of her own at the information.

The smile disappeared when he asked,

"So, where's that Echizen? Weren't you two the hottest couple around?"

"I broke up with him last year," she answered coolly.

Silence, and then Sakuno was surprised when Kirihara gave a hoot of laughter.

"I think I might grow to like you after all!" he exclaimed, taking a bite of rice.

A month passed this way, with slightly lighter spirits. Kirihara reminded her frequently that was still going to seek out a way to get her out of "his house". Yet these days they were almost said jokingly, his green eyes would sparkle and Sakuno would forget that she had ever been frightened of the blood red they would turn on the tennis court years ago.

She learned his habits, that he actually was quite the neat freak, he did fall asleep on buses because he had no one to talk to,

"And they're just to damn relaxing!" he had said, getting defensive when she teased him for falling asleep when they took the bus to a nearby market that didn't have parking spaces. "That's why I bought a car!"

He eventually told her why he moved to Kyoto instead of staying in Kanagawa.

"It got repetitive," he said, stuffing his face with the soondae, Korean blood sausage, she had made him. "Plus, mom decided to pack off and re-connect with her Korean roots. Dad was moping around so much I told him to pack up and follow her over there. I wasn't about to stay with my older sister's family so," he shrugged. "I moved here."

She learned he was actually quite the happy-go-lucky guy as long as he didn't feel, as he put, "threatened".

It was all vice versa for him. He found out that Tezuka actually joined the cooking club with her in high school so he could learn to prepare the fish he loved to catch. She taught him how, and they had practically been inseparable.

"People thought we were dating!" She giggled.

For some reason Kirihara didn't find it funny. He snorted.

He found her stuffed animals (she slept on the other side of the room, of course he was going to find them), and found out her favorite was pig she had named Wilbur.

"I eat pig," he had said, and he smirked when she did her best to shield Wilbur behind her petite figure.

She was definitely not the push-over she was in the past, but she still stuttered in front of strangers that she saw as "above her".

"Thank goodness you weren't Atobe-san," she declared one day when he picked her up from work at the traditional sweet shop. (He told her it was just easier than her taking a bus just because they have no parking spaces – bus costs money). "I probably would have moved out!"

Kirihara stuck his tongue out at her.

"Just my luck," he muttered, but a small smile Sakuno didn't catch was etched on his face.

The one thing Sakuno did not know about Kirihara was his job. Every time she asked he would evade the question or flatly tell her to mind her own business. It was the few times since they started living together that he got annoyed with her. She tried to play detective, studying what he wore to work (a suit and tie, like a business man – but some days he would go in a pair of jeans and a nice shirt). She tried to figure out the route he took to pick her up, his working hours, the kind of jobs that were hard to find in recessions…

Unfortunately, she was never good at detective work.

So when she got a call that the sweets shop would be closed the next Thursday for kitchen maintenance, she jumped at her chance to become like Sherlock Holmes…

Or a stalker, she thought to herself, sighing as she fixed him breakfast the day she decided to tail him to work.

She prepared a traditional Japanese breakfast this morning. Grilled fish, rice, and a bowl of miso soup.

Kirihara gobbled it up, as usual, thanked her for the meal, and dashed out the door. In his hurry he forgot his heavy coat for the bitter cold that awaited him. Winter was settling in and the forecast that morning had warned of a possible snow drift to come in that evening. She tried to catch him, grabbing his coat as well as her own. He had already sprinted into the elevator, and the door had closed just as she had gotten out of the apartment and locked the door. She sighed.

"At least I have an excuse for following him now," she muttered. With that she dashed to the stairs as fast as her short legs would carry her so she could catch up.

The good thing about following someone, she decided, was that there was no way to get lost.

She was two cars behind Kirihara, and it had been thirty minutes since she had zoomed out of the apartment complex. As sneakily as possible of course.

Luckily she knew Kirihara was in too much of a rush to notice her, so she drove on, watching him carefully.

He suddenly veered right at the next stop light, coming into a clear area not too far from a temple. Slightly behind, she saw a modern building with large windows on the second and third stories, its surface was a stark white, and (a miracle!) it had a parking lot. She saw Kirihara pull in to an employee parking spot and practically hurtle himself out of the car and into the building.

Sakuno pulled in soon enough, parking she looked up at the sign over he glass revolving doors of the entrance.

"Kyoto Museum of Art".

Sakuno stared at the sign in utter shock. Kirihara Akaya, the Rikkai Dai Junior Ace, had taken a career in Art History?

After a couple of minutes gaping like a fish, she steeled herself with what was to come. She knew Kirihara wouldn't be happy. At least she could use his coat as an excuse.

She exited her car and walked toward the museum. Entering the bright glass doors she saw the lobby. The floor gave looked like polished metal, her high-heeled leather boots clicking along the floor. The walls, like the exterior, were white-washed and bright. She saw a sign behind the receptionist's desk that lead into what looked like a new exhibit.

"Spain's Influence and Disconnection with Latin American Art".

Sakuno knew almost nothing about art, especially when it came from Latin America, but it looked interesting. She walked up to steel desk, polished with a very modern, industrial feel. The receptionist looked up, a plump middle-aged woman with warm eyes behind half-moon glasses.

"I'm sorry dear, we don't open for another two hours. But may I help you?"

"Um, y-yes," Sakuno stuttered, suddenly nervous now that she was here. "I was looking for-"

"Be careful with that altar! We got it on a very special loan from the museum in Mexico City! It's the closest thing that comes to Balbas's 'Altar of the Kings'! If it breaks, I'll have all of your heads!"

Sakuno's eyes widened in surprise, and her hand flew to her mouth. She knew that voice. Oh my goodness, was he really…?

The receptionist sighed and gave Sakuno an apologetic glance.

"That's our new art curator and art history expert. He's usually such a sweet young man, but when a new exhibit comes up, we've learned he means business. Turns into quite the commander," She chuckled a bit as Sakuno continued to stand there, looking as if unicorns had just been proven to be real. "He's very qualified of course" the woman reassured her, mistaking Sakuno's look of shock. "Cam from a very prestigious museum in Kanagawa specializing in traditional Asian art, than came to another one here, until it had to downsize. We were lucky to snag him! He's only been working here for about-"

"Two months," Sakuno breathed.

The woman shot her a confused look, so Sakuno finally snapped out of her stupor.

"I actually came here to give him h-his c-coat," Sakuno stammered, becoming flustered as the woman's surprised face slowly turned into quite the knowing grin. "H-he f-forgot it, and it was s-so c-cold outside, I thought, I thought,"

Sakuno mentally berated herself. She wasn't supposed to be this terrified girl anymore! What was wrong with her?

Before Sakuno could even try to explain herself further, to her absolute horror the woman stood up, turned around and bellowed,

"Kirihara-kun! You're wife is here!"

Sakuno wanted to just die right there.

There was a silence that echoed throughout the museum entrance. The receptionist turned back around and settled herself comfortably in her chair, nestling her bottom in her chair.

"Now, he'll be here in 3…2…1…"

"Yoshino-san, what is this nonsense that I have a wife? Are you trying to set me up on a blind date with your granddaughter again because if it is on today of all days I'll-"

Kirihara Akaya strode in, his long legs carrying him across the hall with ease. His right hand was raised as if he was lecturing, the other held a stack of papers that Sakuno could only assume were important documents regarding the art pieces. His green eye shone with a passion Sakuno had never seen before, not even when he played tennis.

He looked positively… dashing.

The receptionist just nodded her head sagely and motioned at the stock still Sakuno. Kirihara looked up and noticed Sakuno for the first time and to her dismay the fire that had been in his eyes vanished, to be replaced by something she couldn't quite place.

"Oh…"

"Really Kirihara-kun, is that how you greet your wife, who brought you jacket all the way here for you? Or she could be your girlfriend. You young one's are just so, what do you call it? Free loving these days."

Sakuno's face, if it was possible, had become even redder. She couldn't remember the last time she had been this embarrassed, and that was saying something.

Kirihara walked up to her, as she held up his coat weakly. He didn't take it. He didn't say anything, and that was more terrifying than if he had yelled and screamed at her. For the first time in a long time she was scared of Kirihara Akaya.

But his eyes weren't red. They were now a dull jade, no longer the vivid emerald she seen just moments before.

"Are you going to laugh at me?" he muttered.

Sakuno didn't expect that. Her mind reeled.

"Are you going to laugh at me?" he asked again. "Marui-senpai, Niou-senpai, heel, I think even Sanada-senpai laughed at me. No one expected the devil, the beast Kirihara Akaya who would hurt anyone who was a threat to him in tennis, would actually take an interest in art of all things." He faltered a bit, as if something had come back to haunt him.

Feeling more emotionally moved and than she had in a long time, Sakuno lifted a hand to gently touch his cheek. He flinched. Her hands were still cold from the bitter wind.

"Look at them, what have they become?" she said, giving him a watery smile. "Salary-men, I bet. They have money but are unhappy. They have no passion for what they do. Look at me. Look at you. We might not always make ends meet, but I know you well enough by now that we're usually always happy,"

He looked at her curiously, expectantly, his eyes full of that something she saw that he couldn't explain. She took a deep breath and continued.

"And even I'm guilty of forgetting, that A-…Akaya-kun not only had a Devil Mode, but an Angel Mode too. And I always thought he played better that way."

Right then and there, demonstrating the newfound courage she had found when she had lived life without following the beck and call of Echizen Ryoma, she stood on her tip-toes and kissed Kirihara Akaya's lips. Within seconds, he wrapped his arms around her, the coat forgotten, and kissed her back.

"Now that's a proper greeting." Yoshino chortled.