First Love

Ready for the next trip?

All Characters: NO!

Too bad. Buckle yourself up and we'll be off! But wait! Before we start, may I have Hanabusa Aido up here for the disclaimer? And yes, Aido, you can flirt with my air stewardess. Jeez.

Aido: I'm here forever. Gimme a kiss, babe!

Aido! Not now.

Aido: All righty! Yumi owns nothing in this story except the OC so now can I kiss her?

Go ahead. No noises though. (Author grimaces as Aido drags the stewardess into a room) And we're off! Our next destination…

Chapter II: Push Me Away

Ichijo wrapped his arms around Yumi and felt tears running down his cheeks. It had been so long since he last saw her. Almost ten years, and now she was all grown up! Holding her felt so right, too.

She had grown well. Her long blonde hair was now as long as her waist and her childish roundness has became perfectly angled and curved. She was paler, and her face thinner. She was now as tall as his shoulders. Her beauty was astounding, even for a pureblood.

Then he was aware of the soft sobs that erupted from the girl. Her whole body trembled like she had been frightened, and her arms were tight around his neck. He liked the feeling. "Yumi?"

She didn't answer. Her arms tightened around him, and he started to have difficulty breathing.

"I can't breathe," he muttered. She pulled away, but only fractionally. He could see that she was trying to calm herself, to hide her tear streaked face from him, but he gently pushed her away from him so he could see her better. "You're all grown up, now!" he exclaimed cheerily. He noticed that she said nothing. The wide, now darker-turquoise eyes that were set on high cheekbones narrowed fractionally, and accused him of the all the times he never came back to see them. He sighed inwardly. It seems that he wasn't going to be forgiven so easily.

"Are you on diet?" he teased. She glared at him before picking up his dropped case – from the shock of her rushing into him – and bounded up the stairs easily, heading towards his old room, he assumed. He felt funny inside, like it actually hurt to be glared at. He'd been glared at enough times by Kiryuu-kun and Ruka… and that never hurt him this way. Maybe because they were close? Or used to be.

Ichio appeared silently and gazed after her before switching his terrifying eyes to Ichijo, who swallowed. "You're back." His voice was almost expressionless.

"Yes, Grandfather ," he said with an easy smile. "I am."

"You should've called us. Then maybe she wouldn't have broken down like that," Ichio said in his deep rumble.

"I wanted to, but I also wanted to be back with you as soon as possible, and I thought that I could surprise you all for the holidays…"

Ichio grunted. "Go to your room."

With a shrug, Ichijo picked up his coat – another dropped victim from the shock – and headed up the stairs towards his old room. When he passed her room, he heard the soft sounds of her crying, and someone soothing her. He hesitated in front of the door, wondering if he should go in, but then decided not to. It would be a bad time.

His room was exactly the way he left it. Bed made, –for the first time since he made this place his home – drawers and wardrobe almost empty, mirror shining bright and clean, dust-free tables, (someone probably wiped them for him. How nice) desk filled with old books, and the curtains drawn.

As he sat down on his bed with a sigh, someone opened the door, and in entered Mio, one of the maids there. He vaguely remembered that Mio was the one who took great care of Yumi, and realized that she must be the one who was comforting her.

"Welcome back," she said calmly.

"How's Yumi?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

"She's fine. Just… shocked, you know." She took his suitcase and started to open it, but he stopped her.

"No, I can do it myself. Just tell me about her."

Mio hesitated. "She's hardly ever fed," she said at last. "Since the Christmas when she was nine and you couldn't come back. She only feeds when she's close to losing control. It's dangerous, and terrifying, the way she is. She's so thin that it's like I can snap off her wrists…"

"What else?"

"She… Well, I don't think she'll ever admit this to anyone, but she really misses you." I miss her, too, he thought, and his green eyes showed the bliss he felt at hearing those words."She's infatuated with you. In her sleep sometimes, she mumbles your name, over and over again. I think she's pretty hurt that you barely saw her, but she won't say a thing. She's rejected seven advancing vampire's courting attempts in the past year, probably because of you. She's almost seventeen now, and still isn't betrothed." His heart fluttered, and then fell down to the soles of his feet. She was still for grabs, but he could never have her.

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

"I have no idea."

Ichijo paused for a moment, and then said: "Carry on. I want to know everything."

"Well, she's saved the life of two people now. Your grandfather and a little boy."

Ichijo felt a start of surprise. "How…?"

Then a voice floated through the half-open door, "Glad to hear that you're telling everyone my life's story, Mio. It's not like it's private or anything, right?"

Ichijo stood as she entered, her expression guarded and her eyes carefully blank. She met his gaze for a moment before breaking away and turning to Mio. "Leave us. I wish to speak to him privately. Close the door as you exit." Mio bowed and departed, shutting the door behind her. Yumi turned to Ichijo, her expression going from guarded to exhausted. He jumped forward to catch her as she swayed, but she batted away his hand with no apparent effort. He stepped back and instead watched as the beautiful girl drifted forward and seated herself on his bed next to him, if you can call putting at least four feet between them 'next to each other'.

"You should get a drink," he said, to break the awkward silence between them.

"No one asked you." Her voice was not haughty as he thought it would now be. He missed the days when she was a child and said everything with innocence. Now she was almost an adult and her voice was laced with bitter pain, and hid her feelings well. How could he ever tell if she loved him or not?

"But I'm telling you."

She turned to look at him with her dark-turquoise eyes. For one moment, he thought he saw a hint of something behind her carefully guarded eyes and feelings. Then she turned away from him, and studied her hands.

"So," she said finally.

"So," he repeated.

"You've finally decided to grace us with your presence." Her voice became bitter and mocking.

He looked at her. "I had no choice." His eyes begged her to understand.

She exploded. "No choice? You could've ran from that idiot, Ichijo!" He noticed, somewhat painfully, that she called him as a friend would. "I would! All those years, and he kept you back… don't you know how much we missed you? How much I missed you?... And I had no way of telling if father would marry me off to some other freaking pureblood freak! Who would forbid me to see you ever again!"

"If I'd left, everything would've gone wrong. They need me there, Yumi."

She looked like she was biting her tongue to stop herself from saying anything more. Her eyes blinked madly as though trying to stop the tears. However, one tear slipped down her cheek before she managed to push it back. Concerned, he scooted closer to her until they were knee to knee and took a cold, thin hand. She shifted slightly so that their knees weren't touching anymore. He sighed, and pressed the hand to his cheek, breathing in her wonderful smell.

Then, she shuddered, and brought her knees up to her chin, gritting her teeth in obvious pain. He dropped her hand and caught her shoulder. "Yumi? Yumi, are you all right?"

She managed to unlock her teeth enough to say, "Yes, just… nothing."

He frowned, then unbuttoned his light blue shirt far down enough so that he could expose his neck. Yumi stiffened, but said nothing as he pulled her closer to him and pulled the shirt down far enough so she may drink without any interference. He could hear her locking her teeth together as he pushed her face closer to his neck.

"Drink," he said softly. His stomach curled in anticipation.

She growled, and pulled away from him, fighting. He didn't let her go; he just followed her. He felt her pressed underneath him, and used gravity to his advantage.

"Drink."

"No," she snarled, trying to shove him off of her. He pressed down on her harder, aware of the guard outside, waiting for her to come out. "Never."

"It won't do you any good if you pass out because of your stubbornness."

"I won't hurt–" she began, but broke off, and shoved him away, harder this time. He rolled off her, and watched as she bolted to the door, and heard her running footsteps and her dark-haired burly guard's voice calling after her as he ran.

For the first time in his life, he felt helpless.