When We Ruled the World
Part III: Fall from Grace
Sanada Genichirou was four years old when he met Yukimura Seiichi. A three part history on Sanada and Yukimura’s bond from childhood to realization. SanaYuki. AtoSana.
When he finally found the courage to visit Yukimura in the hospital, the gentle boy had smiled and chided him for worrying about what he could not control. It made Sanada feel even worse that the other boy knew him so well to alleviate him of the worries he knew Sanada must have had but did not mention. He was torn from his self-blame to far more pressing realities however. He had not given Yukimura’s illness much thought despite Yanagi’s complicated explanations, self-assured it would be fleeting because Yukimura could never be associated with any sort of permanent weakness. This time around, he was force to take notice of the slender form, which had grown too sharp, the sweater perpetually wrapped around his shoulder though the heater was cranked up all the way and the way his grip trembled with the weight of only a hot water mug.
Yukimura had become a more reduced presence without tennis and his health and strength. Without the ability to contribute, his voice grew smaller only to make self-deprecating comments on the burden he had become. It made Yukimura vulnerable and Sanada extremely uncomfortable. Even the other regulars noticed the way their captain was shutting himself off from the rest of the team, peering out the window instead of joining in their lighthearted conversations.
In Yukimura’s great absence, Sanada was forced to become the leadership of Rikkai’s tennis team. Frustrated at the unexpected transition and deeply unsettled by his inability to help Yukimura’s condition, Sanada was crushed with extraordinary pressure. He dealt with it in the only way he knew how, by exerting even greater discipline on himself and the environment, finding relief in control with his actions when he felt powerless about the circumstances. For the players, he was a ruthless and oftentimes violent leader, focusing his entire energy on the one promise he made to Yukimura.
At first he only took his anger out on Kirihara, who in the absence of Yukimura’s calming presence, began once again to terrorize the courts with his volatile tennis style. After he sent two players to the hospital, Sanada in a fit of anger backhanded the boy in front of the entire team. As Kirihara stalked off with tears of shame in his eyes, the other regulars looked at each other in shock. After that episode, the others did not regard him in the same way again. Even Kirihara was more repressed and reserved, flinching whenever Sanada raised his tone around him. Tennis practice became a deathlike drone and the law of absolute victory became cemented through corporal punishment, which Sanada himself was the strictest of advocates.
Yukimura’s style of coaching had been insightful and guiding; he was able to coax out each players’ potential by understanding their motivations and the areas of their psychologies to tap into in order to get the best results. Sanada, in comparison was completely authoritarian. He led completely alone by his actions, carrying the entire burden of their loss, channeling that into even tougher training and punishment toward his own body. He worked through flesh to bone, displaying unintentionally to everyone the unwavering dedication he had in his love towards the captain and the raw desperation of his attempts to deal with all the pain and confusion. It was completely moving, and everybody could not help being affected.
I’m here to see Yukimura. Can you let me know where he is?
“He’s in the gym,” said the nurse with a knowing look.”
“Thank you.” Sanada ignored her though he knew exactly what she was insinuating. As he neared the gym, he made sure to lighten the sounds of his footsteps.
Making sure the other could not see him, Sanada watched his friend struggle alone, repeating the same movements until his muscles gave out. He was slowly relearning how to walk with the aid of the plastic beams to guide him. Sanada was not surprised Yukimura had managed to make so much progress in only a few weeks.
The boy had tried to keep this training a secret, not wanting the pity of others if they saw how he exerted so much effort to do such simple things. Sanada had found out by pure coincidence when he visited him. Knowing the boys’ pride, he could only watch silently. It was hardest in the beginning. Every time Yukimura lost his balance and fell hard to the ground, Sanada had to resist his protective urge to burst in to the room and help him up. Sanada could tell he had been practicing for a while now with the beads of sweat coming down his face. Waiting until his friend took a break, accidentally nodding off in much needed slumber, Sanada gently lifted the boy from the ground. He felt awkward and out of place in the hospital as he carried the boy into his room tucking him into the covers. Unable to resist he reached out to smooth back a lock of Yukimura’s dark blue hair. Body moving as if it had a mind of its own, Sanada found his hand gently cupping his cheek as he leaned to press a fleeting kiss on the other’s forehead.
The boy barely stirred.
Gathering his composure, Sanada slipped out of the room, with the knowledge that he would be back tomorrow and every day that followed.
As time went on, even the deathlike practices had become bearable and Yukimura was opening up to him again. When Sanada pointed it out, Yukimura has told him about the surgery proposed by the doctor, which if successful would allow him to play in the nationals if all went smoothly. While Yukimura only saw full recovery on the tennis courts, all Sanada could think of was the 50% success rate.
Rikkaidai lost to Seigaku in the Kantou Finals but the surgery had been successful. When Sanada summoned up the courage to relay the results to their captain, he had prepared himself for any punishment Yukimura would deliver. What he had not foreseen was the despair in the other boy’s eyes, composure completely surrendered. In an uncharacteristic display of anger, Yukimura snapped and threw Sanada out of the room before he would crumble.
Though only a wall separated the two, Sanada had never felt more helpless as he did then, listening to Yukimura’s scream of agony, hands pressed against the locked door. The other members did not dare to stop him as he walked away, Yukimura’s soft sobs still ringing in their ears.
Eventually Yukimura returned to the tennis courts, to the exasperation of his doctors. Everyone was glad, non more so than Sanada. Though the whole team practiced harder than ever under Sanada’s Spartan regime, they were not very productive. With the return of Yukimura, the spirit of the team was reignited with new vigor and hope.
The inexplicable amount of relief Sanada felt upon seeing his best friend once again leading their team dissipated as quickly as it came. Though Yukimura was a perfect display of considerateness, there was an impenetrable distance between them, greater than even before his illness. Whereas before, Yukimura flitted in and out of Sanada’s understanding, now the boy truly buried himself only revealing to the world only the polished and impeccable façade.
All their conversations were carried out in the respective roles of captain and vice captain. Their afterschool walks, where they could talk freely just the two of them away from the pressures of the tennis team, had completely disappeared. Still, Sanada was relentless, propositioning different ways for them to hang out together but they were always met with an endless stream of excuses.
What hurt most was seeing Yukimura visit the flower shop with Renji right after telling Sanada he was too busy one Saturday. And Yukimura still had the time to work with Kirihara or Marui on their form before morning practices. Everyone was getting the captain’s attention like they always did. Yukimura had never been particularly close with anybody but he always held Sanada in closer regard. Now it was like Yukimura had determined to see him as just another team member.
His frustration with this current relationship with Yukimura was what made Sanada agree recklessly when Atobe Keigo challenged him in an unofficial match.
It felt great, viciously venting his anger in every shot, basking as his team members screamed their cheers.
“You’re not fit to be a member of Rikkai, Atobe,” he sneered in contempt.
The other merely smiled mysteriously before hitting his shot back, except this time, the shot left him frozen with no time to react at all.
“That’s enough!” The soft but decisive voice of Yukimura rang out.
“Would you like to be my partner?” asked Atobe mockingly.
“Of course. That would be fun in an official match.” Yukimura’s smile was unfazed and Atobe was forced to retire earlier than he wanted. They both watched until Hyoutei’s captain walked out of earshot.
“Why did you stop it?” Sanada had never felt more humiliated.
“Because you would have lost, Genichirou.” Though Sanada knew Yukimura’s insight was usually spot-on and he was only speaking honestly, that didn’t help the sting of the implications. Sanada was not mature enough put up a false show of agreeableness and turned away from him spitefully without saying anything.
He was surprised to hear familiar footsteps follow after him though Yukimura did not say a word.
The sun was dropping below the horizon again and Sanada was reminded of another sunset at a much different time. Though it was less than a year ago, it felt ages. Sanada stopped and turned to face Yukimura.
Yukimura must have noticed something in his expression. “Sanada?”
Sanada did not answer but stepped closer to where the other stood, casting a dark shadow over him. Yukimura made no move to back away but merely looked up with impenetrable eyes.
Maybe it was Yukimura coming after him, like he did in the old days whenever Sanada was upset. Maybe it was spell of twilight and the way the sun warmed his face with radiance. It reminded Sanada of a wooden puppet turning into human form and even his eyes seemed to lose some of its distance. Maybe it was Sanada reaching the limits of his self-restraint but he no longer wanted to hold back.
It was just enough of a reason for him to pull Yukimura towards him, cradling him by the neck with one hand and the other in the small of his back to pull him closer. Yukimura tensed and made a small effort to pull away but Sanada held on tightly, not allowing him to get away that easily. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in deeply.
“Stop pushing me away.” His voice was heavy with emotion. Yukimura froze at his words, letting his arms drop to his sides from where he had been trying to force Sanada away. He cupped Yukimura’s face deliberately between his hands willing their gazes to meet. Sanada leaned forward to capture his lips, breaking the barrier so fantasy became reality at last. It was a heated, heart-rending exchange, which expressed all of Sanada’s feelings of restraint and pent up longing over the years of their friendship. Getting caught up in a surge of boldness, Sanada deepened the kiss with Yukimura, who was so dazed he could do no more than receive the onslaught of it all. Sanada held the boy tightly in place and kissed his way to the back of his neck. It was only when Sanada ran his hands down the curve of his hips did Yukimura snap back to reality and find the strength to push him away.
Despite his flushed and unkempt appearance, Yukimura’s voice was deathly serious when he asked, “What were you thinking Sanada?”
Sanada could see Yukimura clenching and unclenching his fists.
“I’m sorry for startling you,” he took in a breath and stated simply, “I like you. I’ve liked you ever since we met.”
“Genichirou,” said Yukimura in the same gentle tone he used to comfort Kirihara when the younger boy’s feelings were hurt. “We’ve been best friend since childhood. You’re mistaking the feelings.”
He shook his head violently. “No! I know clearly what I feel for you.” Sanada looked at him, the intensity in his eyes making Yukimura shiver.
“When we first met, I was so happy there was someone who liked tennis as much as me,” Sanada’s tone had grown unbearably tender, “The childhood me looked up to you and though I didn’t like many people, I wanted to be around you always and see you smile. You were the reason I became strong.”
“As we grew up, we became the captains of Rikkai and more was expected of us, especially you.” He glanced over at Yukimura who was listening to his every word. “We worked harder than anyone to reach our dreams together. But when you got sick, I realized something. The team and I had always rested in the belief that you would carry us with your strength. It must have been so much pressure for you.”
“Now, I want to be your source of strength.” Sanada walked towards Yukimura and placed his hand on his shoulder. “I love you. That has never changed. Only now I also want you in ways the childhood me didn’t know.”
Yukimura’s expression crumpled completely as if Sanada had caused him unbearable pain. Turning away, his voice was completely steady when he whispered. “I don’t love you.”
“I will never love you the way you do me.”
A long silence met his words.
Ten years since he’s met Yukimura. Ten years since he’s loved him. 520 weeks of practices and training, and their dedication to build a legacy which will live on long past them. 3,640 days of watching each other grow up in the sunrise and sun fall. Too many to count for the hours and minutes of observing Yukimura in awe, relishing in his well deserved successes, drowning in his struggles and despairs, dreaming of him reciprocating this love, crushing defeat when reality breaks, resisting hard at the bonds of these painful feelings, and failing always to his smiles and laughter.
Sanada swallowed and all it takes is one second to break all his ill-conceived illusions. He begins to walk away and wonders why he does not feel any pain. He receives his answer he feels his entire body is numb. The air is thick with humidity, suppressive like the rolling heat of summer and Sanada cannot feel his heavy bones. By the second he grows more desperate. He feels suffocated and wishes he were underground in the cold dark Earth.
“Sana-“ The familiar voice pierces through the numbing haze. Sanada takes the opportunity to leave and does not look behind. His footsteps do not slow even when he hears his name carried by the wind.
Tennis practice was a tense and uncomfortable affair after then. Though everyone knew something had happened between the captain and vice captain, no one dared say a word to the both of them. Whenever, Kirihara tried to bring it up, Renji would give him a reprimanding look and smoothly changed the subject.
Finally, unable to take the tension anymore, Renji managed to track down Sanada one day on his way home after practice.
“What happened to you and Yukimura?” Sanada stays silent and his expression betrays nothing. He takes perverse pride in this newfound accomplishment.
Renji sighed exasperatedly, “Look, I’ve known Yukimura even longer than you. Though he’s polite and kind to everybody, he rarely gets close to anyone. You are the only one close enough for him to let down his guard. When you are like this, he is entirely alone.” The words made Sanada pause in his footsteps.
“And you hold Yukimura dearer than anybody. I’m sure whatever happened can be worked out.”
“It’s not that simple, Renji. Yukimura love the image of me he knows. He takes comfort in my stability, my loyalty, my unwavering and safe friendship,” Sanada practically sneered at the word. “But that’s not what I want and when he finally saw my true desires beneath it all, he didn’t want any part of it.”
“Sanada…” Renji’s voice was regretful.
“Disgusting, isn’t it? I hate myself for the delusions.” He laughed mirthlessly.
“Sanada, you can’t expect to keep this torrent of feelings locked up forever. It will drive anyone crazy.”
“Rikkai monsters!” At this moment, Atobe suddenly interrupted their reveries and in a surreal display of ostentatiousness, stepped out in full suit from his limo. “How about a ride?”
“Why not?” Happy to put off the future for a bit more, Sanada readily strode over.
“Sanada! If Yukimura finds out, he will be furious. And right before nationals too.”
“I don’t care,” it felt good to shrug off the responsibilities expected of him as vice captain and undyingly loyal best friend. With that he slammed the door shut. He pushed Renji’s disapproving look out of his mind and turned to Atobe, who was watching him intently as if studying an extremely rare species.
“What?” He felt a little disconcerted.
“Oh, just thinking to myself how much I like you like this.”
“Like what?” Atobe chose not to answer the question.
“Hmm you have beautifully genuine eyes Sanada. They reveal every thought that crosses your mind. That’s why you wear that hat isn’t it? To put up a barrier.”
“Maybe, who knows? More importantly, what do you want?”
“Isn’t it too late to ask now that you’re in the car?” Atobe said in a light tone. Sanada explained he got in because he didn’t want to hear Renji’s chiding anymore.
“Look, everybody knows you are devoted to your captain. But I also know he has never once responded to you. With rumors that both of you were having some troubles, the opportunist in me had to try my luck.” Sanada didn’t even feel hurt by the way Atobe straightforwardly laid out the situation. He liked the way Atobe was direct about what he wanted, unlike the confusion of subtext, which colored his bond with Yukimura. “ I’m not asking for your complete love and devotion, only a chance. Maybe you’ll even learn to like something else better.”
Sanada considered for a moment. “I’ll agree but with conditions. Don’t let this interfere with tennis and don’t take it too seriously.” Atobe laughed and was delighted.
They ended up watching tango at a ludicrously upper class theater. Still, Sanada was enjoying himself, to his surprise. In fact the other boy was a witty conversationalist and he found himself genuinely enjoying the talk about classical history, a subject they both had interest in.
They begin meeting weekly afterwards, sometimes even more and Atobe was true to his word. Every week they went to a new show or party. It was like Sanada entered a part of world previous closed off to him, wholly unfamiliar but not uninteresting. Sanada truly grew found of the other boy’s company but Atobe was still not completely satisfied. Sanada brought it up when they were taking in a walk around the Tokyo bay. Atobe had rented the park for a day so there were no others besides them.
“What’s wrong Atobe?”
“Sanada, do you find me attractive?” If it were not for his dead serious tone, Sanada may have questioned the sincerity of his question. Despite Atobe’s great show of self confidence, Sanada also knew most of that was a part of the persona people expected of him and there were things even he felt insecure about.
“Sure I do,” he said simply.
“We’ve been on ten date now and you haven’t even tried to touch me. At first I thought you were just a prude but now—”
“You think I’m not attracted to you” He finished his sentence. Sanada’s mouth twitched before he burst out laughing at the absurdity of the scenario.
“It’s not funny!” But even Atobe could not help being affected by Sanada’s booming laughter. The laughter died in his throat when he saw Sanada gaze at him in a way he had never done before. He stepped back a little only to hit the bench with the back of his knees and fall back onto the hard surface. Two arms landed on either side of his head, trapping him beneath a piercing gaze.
“Is this better?” Sanada asked in a husky tone.
“Much.” Atobe felt his throat dry. Looking up at him beneath a seductive gaze, he reached up to kiss Sanada fully on the lips. The lip lock was intense and left little to the imagination.
“Le’s go back to my mansion,” he shot Sanada a heated gaze, taking him by the hand.
“Atobe” He pulled back for a moment. “Everything I said before. That still stands.” Sanada’s voice was stern but not unkind.
“Idiot, you think too much.”
Sex with Atobe was like dancing a tango, an exhilarating and passionate affair. Atobe had no hesitation as he came onto him like there was nothing else the boy wanted better. Sanada could tell by the adoration in his eyes, as Atobe kissed down the length of his body that he were not entirely honest about treating this as a casual affair. Still, Sanada did not have the high morals to put an end to it and so they fell deeper into the messy affair.
Atobe had a strong and graceful build whereas Yukimura was slender, more willowy. Atobe’s skin carried the scent of salt and musk while Yukimura always smelt like the flowers after the rain. Atobe’s hair was sleek, perfected coiffed. Yukimura’s was soft and fell in loose waves. Atobe’s grey eyes smoldered with lust and desire whereas Yukimura’s gaze had always been soft and carefully restrained. They were different in nearly every aspect. And as he whispered Atobe’s name, reaching climax within the deepest depths of the other boy’s body, he could not help thinking of those differences.
The exhausted boy beneath him buried into his chest and quickly fell into a deep and dreamless slumber. Sanada pulled the blankets over them, knowing it was going to be another sleepless night.
It did not take long for the word about Atobe and Sanada’s relationship to spread throughout the districts. For one, Atobe was not the typical Japanese man and flaunted their relationship every chance he had with flowers and lavish presents delivered to school. For another, it was nearly impossible for Sanada to cover up the marks of their love making when his team was in the locker rooms.
The first time Kirihara had noticed, his eyes grew so impossibly wide, Renji had to take him aside and educate him on the topics of early development.
Sanada was not blind and realized the motivation behind Atobe’s obvious markings were to send a message to the team and especially Yukimura. However it was Renji who was most disapproving. He was unwilling to even be in the same room as Sanada for more than a few minutes. Shocked by the broken relationship of the “inseparable Troika”, the whole team entered the nationals in low morals. Plagued by loneliness s and frustration, Sanada found comfort from the person who was the root of such troubles.
“Mind if I sit here?” asked Yukimura with a familiar smile. Sanada had taken to eating outside in the schoolyard, away from the chatter and distraction of everyone else.
“Sure” he said gruffly. It was the first time they were speaking alone since what happened that fateful day. The other boy sat down next to him.
“How are you?” Yukimura asked with a hint of hesitation.
“I’m fine,” Sanada lied through his teeth.
“I’m happy to hear that.” A pause. “Sanada please remember that Renji and I are still your friends. Nothing changes that.”
“I doubt Renji will agree.”
“He’s only angry that you walked away from him. He really missed you,” he added thoughtfully.
“You have too much faith,” said Sanada. “You’ll be disappointed if you keep this up.” They both knew the topic was not about Renji any more.
Sanada started suddenly, “Aren’t you going to ask?” Yukimura does not ask for clarification. There was no need for pretense between the two of them.
“Do you not mind in the slightest that I fucked Atobe so soon after confessing to you?” Yukimura flinched at his coarse language.
“Your relationship with Atobe is none of my concerns.” His eyes glimmered coldly like carved gems.
“No I suppose not, I mean nothing more to you than a means to an end.” Sanada knew his words were unfair but he could not help himself from hurling them.
“I’ll still play my best, don’t worry. You’re not the only person who want to win the national championship title.” Though his heart pounded painfully, he felt a hollow sort of satisfaction upon seeing the pain flash across Yukimura’s face. He stormed off without a second glance back. Only later would he realize that Yukimura never answered his question.
So divided the three of them were, Sanada was unsurprised at the outcome of the third national championship. What surprised him the most was that it had been Yukimura’s loss, which decided the final outcome. Once again, Sanada could not do anything as he watched the other fall from grace, not yet fully recovered and consumed by his own steadily growing feelings of worthlessness, which had taken root after his illness.
Unwilling to be shaken off again like before—when Yukimura collapsed—Sanada even broke his promise to keep a strictly captain-vice captain relationship with the other.
“Yukimura! You can still win this!” He screamed with emotion. Shaken out of his reverie, the other fixed him with a look to show he understood.
Barely managing to return Ryoma’s split shot, Yukimura could not get in position in time for the return.
“Echizen Ryoma, 6 games to 4” The stands exploded in applause. It was over. Rikkaidai would not succeed in its bid for a third consecutive win.
Keeping a facade of cool indifference, Sanada struggled to ignore the gaping feeling in his stomach as he told Kirihara off for bursting into tears. He handed a towel to Yukimura in a gesture of reconciliation. The other boy accepted more than readily, giving him a sweet smile in return. Renji joined them by the side. And though nothing was really resolved, the three of them were friends again, realizing anything else would require too much effort.
The three of them would continue playing tennis in high school and dominate every court they stepped foot in. Yukimura, once again, became the high school tennis team captain, building an even more formidable team than the one they had.
Three years passed by quickly, too quickly. And yet some things were still the same. Time had softened all of them, rounding out the harsh edges, which had once caused so much pain. Sanada and Atobe were still together and everyone had become so accustomed to the two of them they do not remember a time it was otherwise.
Before they knew it, they were receiving their diplomas from Rikkaidai’s high school principle. All Sanada remembers is a flurry of tears and embraces all around him as he realized something very important was changing and the significance of which he could not truly comprehend yet.
“Cheers! Here’s to the real world,” said Yagyuu. People all around started clinking glasses together in celebration. The Rikkai tennis team had gathered together at a local Izakaya to celebrate the graduation of the best tennis team in the school’s history.
“Not fair, Senpai’s are all leaving me behind,” croaked Kirihara, struggling to fight back tears. The years of development had Kirihara into a polished and formidable tennis player. And he had never lacked heart. Yukimura knew he would fill in his role as captain more than adequately.
“Oh yeah, I forgot you weren’t a senior. Take care of the other little ones Akaya, won’t you,” said Marui, nonchalantly. Kirihara gave him a death glare and popped his bubble so it exploded all over his face. Meanwhile the Troika was watching the rest of the team in quite amusement.
“I really will miss all this,” said Renji quietly.
“Won’t you play in college at all?” asked Yukimura.
“Probably not, I will be too busy with school.” It was not too surprising. With graduation looming, most people had to make hard decisions about the courses of their lives. Renji’s decision was to set aside tennis for his academic career. For Sanada, there was no question. Offers had come in from multiple colleges all offering full tuition and a prestigious position on their first division tennis team.
“Sanada, you never told us. Which college did you decide on?” Renji asked. The other boy shifted uncomfortably. Atobe had proposed they play abroad in Europe. They were both good enough to play pro and skip university. Sanada had wanted to shoot him down immediately. Europe was so far away from Japan from Yukimura and everything he knew all his life. After much convincing from Atobe, he promised to think about it.
“Actually, I was thinking about playing pro.”
“That’s amazing. You’ll do really great.” Yukimura smiled at him with such pride and happiness, making it that much harder to bear. Renji and Yukimura both congratulated him wholeheartedly. They knew it had always been his dream.
“You better tell me when your first game is. I’ll definitely come watch,” said Yukimura, nudging him playfully.
“Well, that would be near impossible.” Renji and Yukimura shared a startled glance.
“Why?”
“It will be abroad I’ll be competing all over the world.” Renji frowned.
“Why all over? Why not start in Japan? It’s your home.”
“It was a program Atobe and I were considering. Everything is covered and we’ll have best in class coaches and training programs.” Renji’s faced turned dark at the mention of Hyoutei’s captain. Yukimura fiddled with his cup in silence.
“I see. When will you be back?” asked Renji coldly.
“Not for at least two years.” The cup clattered noisily on the table but the rest of the team was too caught up in the celebrations to notice.
“Two years! What about your friends and family? Your life can’t revolve around Atobe.” Renji made no move to shield his displeasure.
“It’s not all about Atobe. It’s about tennis.” Sanada snapped. The last thing he wanted to deal with is Renji’s disapproval with his choices and, most of all, his choice of boyfriend.
“Say something,” Renji prodded Yukimura.
The boy swallowed long and hard before beginning, “I think it’s a great idea Sanada. You’ve always loved tennis so this is really the best opportunity.” Sanada’s heart sunk in his chest.
“Thank you,” he managed to say. Defeated, Renji pushed his drink away and went outside.
“Renji,” Yukimura called after him.
“Don’t mind him. He’s only like this because he’ll miss you.” The rest of the night passed by emptying the unending cups of sake on his table.
Yukimura could barely support the bigger boy, exerting all his effort to bring the other into his house. His parents had politely vacated the residence, knowing it was the last time Yukimura would be able to spend quality with his team and friends after graduation.
“Come on, Sanada. Bedroom. This way.” They managed to stumble their way through without injury. However, as they entered the room, Sanada tripped on the corner of the door, and landed in a heap of disheveled limbs on top of the other boy.
“Ouch,” said Yukimura rubbing at his head, which had thudded hard again the floor.
“Can you get off me? You’re kind of heavy, Sanada.” Unable to hold back anymore, Yukimura burst into soft chuckles. It was not every day you Rikkaidai’s star player drunk and uncoordinated flailing all around like this.
Sanada most definitely did not get off. He had a serious expression as he peered almost cross-eyed in concentration into Yukimura’s face.
“Sanada?” The atmosphere had become charged with tension. He did not respond. Instead Sanada’s expressions softened into one of wistful sadness.
“Will you miss me?” He whispered so gently Yukimura barely made out what he was saying. The words struck a painful place in Yukimura’s heart and he found his heart throbbing painfully. In a drunken trance, Sanada towered over the other boy so their faces were barely an inch apart. Suddenly Sanada dropped his head into the other’s chest. Yukimura sat up slowly, gently cradling the other towards him in warm embrace, fingers brushing through his hair.
Soothed by the gentle treatment, Sanada drifted into a dreamless sleep only to forget all he had said by morning. Yukimura continued to hold the other close to him, an unreadable expression on his face.
Renji leaned against the wall of the Dojo training center, cursing himself and his two best friends inwardly. He watched Sanada practice the movements with his sword with the utmost precision and accuracy as his tennis.
Finally, the other stopped. He wiped a droplet of sweat off his face with his shoulder. Renji kicked off the wall and walked over.
“Nice practice there.” He said nonchalantly.
“Renji? What are you doing here?” The other could tell by the tone in his voice he was tense over something.
“On a plan that is highly likely to be fruitless.” Sanada raised an eyebrow. Renji let out a sigh.
“Don’t go to the European program.” He said finally. Sanada narrowed his eyes.
“I’m going. My mind is already made. I’ve said that very clear.” His voice was the epitome of resolve.
“Listen to yourself. You’ve only made the choice after Yukimura said it was a good idea. Could you really leave the person, whom you have centered your life on?”
“That may be true, but the little I can do I will. Even if I never get over my feelings, I still have the freedom to leave it all behind.”
“With who? Atobe Keigo?” Yanagi made his disapproval clear.
“Yes,” Sanada defended his boyfriend, “Why do you hate him so much anyways?”
“Because though he’s arrogant, he’s insightful enough to know when to intervene and play opportunist.”
“What are you talking about?” Even after all these years, Sanada could not understand Renji’s cryptic references when he spoke like this.
“Have you ever wondered why Seiichi was so distant with everyone, especially you, the year he fell sick?” Sanada had tried hard to keep those unhappy memories buried.
“I thought it was because I did not lead us to victory at the Kantou championships. He lost his trust in me”
“Seiichi blames himself for that more than anyone else. He felt tremendous guilt for the pressure he placed on you after his illness. He saw the way you struggled to hold everything together, the desperate measures you resorted to just to keep your promise to him.”
“Both of you are very similar. Incredibly strong and incredibly self-reliant,” Yanagi said with a touch of fondness.
“I don’t understand.”
“When you got with Atobe, any other friend, no matter the relationship, would have felt heavily betrayed.” Sanada’s mind raced and his heart leapt in his throat. “But Yukimura was always encouraging because he wanted to know you could be happy apart from him.”
“I knew,” Renji injected emphatically, “Heck, even Atobe knew the only way he got with you was because Yukimura wanted it to help you.”
“Exactly, he felt burdened by me.” Sanada thought he had hardened himself from the sensitivity but coming to the realization that the one he loved set him up with someone else twisted something deep within him. “That day I kissed him, he told me he could never love me like that.”
“You’re wrong. Seiichi loves you. Not as a brother. More than a friend. He loves you the way you love him. That is why he wants to provide the path with the least amount of trouble for you, even if it hurts him more than anything.” Renji was speaking but the words were like noise without sound.
“Have you wondered why he’s not told us what he’ll do after graduation? Any player with half his talent would have had his pick of sponsorships to play pro.” Renji had become curious half way through senior year, wondering why Yukimura refused to let them know a single detail about what he would do after graduation. He finally understood after getting past security to access the notes on his profiles from the sponsorship companies.
“He was born with a ticking time bomb. The time he has is limited. Any second, he may suffer a relapse. Because of his condition, most sponsors would not take even a second glance at him. Relapse could mean a permanent paralysis or even—,” Renji’s throat closed up suddenly. The unspoken words were understood. Sanada reflected on his past conversations with Yukimura and how he had always managed to remain cryptic in responses for plans of the future.
Before he knew it, he was dashing out the door, Renji’s indecipherable shouts ringing in his ears.