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Medium: Krita, Sai
Series: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Sanada Genichirou, Yukimura Seiichi
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The last day of 2017! Let’s enjoy it! By all means! I hope everyone has had a good 2017. If you hadn’t, I wish that 2018 is going to be a far better year than this one. I hope myself that 2018 will be much better than 2017 although this year hasn’t been as bad as 2016
Let’s celebrate with Seiichi and Genichirou, here on this picture as elementary schoolers. I am aware that fireworks are not usual in JApan for new years eve, but I couldn’t resist The lines are done in Sai since I like better to do the lineart in sai, the rest is done with Krita. Have a nice day and a splendid 2018. We’ll meet again next year
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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.
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.
Without hesitation, Renji strode over to tap the boy on the shoulders. They talked for a while, backs turned to Sanada. He fumbled with the brim of his hat, debating whether it would be too rude to take off. Finally, Renji turned and pointed to Sanada, who was still standing alone on the path of the courtyard. Rising immediately, the new boy made his way toward him. Sanada’s eyes lingered on his slender figure, which seemed weaker than his initial impression.
“Hi, my name is Yukimura Seiichi. I hope we will get along together.” The wind blew the boy’s soft, blue locks about his face.
“Nice to meet you too. My name is Sanada Genichirou.” The pair shook hands as Renji looked on from the side. As the three started talking about the clubs they wanted to join, Sanada felt some of his initial uncertainty and tension fade away. Yukimura was good at making those around him feel at ease. He was friendly without being too invasive and seemed to naturally understand the limits of others’ comfort.
As the days passed by, the three boys’ tentative friendship became an unshakable bond, which none of them could imagine living without. Sanada and Yukimura became especially close. Rarely were they seen without the other. The two often spent time together after school and sleepovers were so common that Yukimura had his own set of pajamas and mattress at Sanada’s house.
The more time he spent with Yukimura, the more certain Sanada felt that he would never find anyone so remarkable. It was undeniable Yukimura was blessed with beauty and incredible talent but he acted as if he did not realize these things about himself. It reminded Sanada of the story of the Little Prince they had read in class and how natural born rulers were able to inspire admiration by their very being. Sanada noted though with Yukimura it was not all natural. The other boy did put in a great deal of effort to curate other people’s experiences around him to always be pleasant, careful to tuck away any hint of annoyance or frustration before they surfaced. He had an impenetrable guard which was never let down with anyone and it both scared and awed Sanada.
It was only after the end of their first official tennis match that Sanada could name his feelings. Though Yukimura defeated him with a score of 6-3, the match had felt a lifetime. The three games that he did win drained him of all strength. Lying on the ground, with only enough energy to breath, Sanada decided he would never judge someone by his outward appearance again.
“That was a nice game. You’re the strongest person I’ve played so far, even stronger than Renji,” said Yukimura, stretching out a hand to help him up.
At that moment, Sanada realized he had been slowly falling into a quagmire of his feelings, twisted so deeply he could not pull out even if he tried. Losing the game was fine as long as he could see that smile.
When the boys entered middle school, rumors about their tennis skills had already spread. There were challengers daily; some were even regulars on Rikkai’s tennis team, who waited to be the ones to take down the rising stars. They never succeeded and the three became the first freshmen in history to become regulars on the Rikkai Tennis Team.
In fact, there were a lot of firsts that year. It was the first year the Rikkai Tennis Team made it to nationals. It was also the first year that they won it. Sanada and Renji, playing in doubles one, defeated their opponents with a score of 6-4. However, the rest of the games did not go as smoothly and victory rested on the outcome of the singles one matches.
If there was one thing Sanada liked almost as much as playing tennis, it was watching Yukimura play tennis. The other boy’s form was so graceful and smooth; it was as if tennis were a natural part of his movement and not something he had to train to become better at. Apparently, Yukimura’s opponents felt the same way. They often had conflicting feelings between wanting to defeat him and wanting to watch him, so much so that they could not play to the best of their abilities.
Sanada was glad for the excuse of cheering on his teammate, to observe the other boy in peace. He thought it an ingenious plan but somehow Renji still saw through it.
“If you’re done staring, you might want to take notice of something else,” said Renji in the same voice he had used earlier to discuss tennis tactics with Sanada.
“I was not staring, not more than anyone else was.”
“I guess you’re right though I don’t understand why all of you are so mesmerized by Seiichi.” Sanada was about to respond that it wasn’t possible for someone to look at Yukimura and not be mesmerized but stopped himself.
“So, what should I take notice of?” asked Sanada, trying to steer the conversation from sensitive territory.
“Atobe Keigo. He’s a first year regular, like us, on Hyoutei’s tennis club.”
“What about him?”
“He’s been staring at you ever since the beginning of our doubles match, which I remind you, was three matches ago. Thought you should know.”
Sanada did not respond but he did look over to where the massive crowd of Hyoutei Tennis Club members in their grey outfits gathered. He knew immediately which one Atobe was. Though the boy could have easily passed for a second-year or even a senior. Sanada knew it was him for he was the only one not preoccupied with the Yukimura’s match.
If Sanada were not completely focused on Yukimura, he may have wanted to know more about the handsome boy, maybe even agree to have a match with him. However, reality was different and so he gave the boy one of his most forbidding glares, which would send any normal person running in the other direction. It was too bad that Atobe was not a normal person, for he carried on staring at Sanada unabashedly, only now with a tiny smirk tugging at his lips.
Not knowing how to respond to that, Sanada turned his attention to the match only to realize that Yukimura had won the match with a score of 6-1. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, he and Renji ran onto the tennis court to envelop their teammate in a congratulatory hug.
“You were amazing, Yukimura,” said Sanada when they finally pulled away.
“Thank you. You and Renji played just as well.” Eyes shinning with tears of happiness, he spun around to watch as the crowd of thousands chanted “Rikkaidai” at the top of their lungs.
“All this,” he gestured to everything around them, “I want to feel it again. Let’s come back and win again.”
“Of course, all three of us,” said Renji with more conviction than Sanada had ever seen him use.
They lay their hands, one on top of another, as a symbol of their unspoken promise to one another.
“Ah, I hope I’m not interrupting but allow me to offer my congratulations.” It was Atobe and his arrogant drawl suggested that he was not at all sincere.
“What do you want?” Yukimura looked curiously at Sanada’s rather forceful tone of voice.
“No need to be so angry. After all it is only common courtesy to warn your opponents before you defeat them. Hyoutei will not lose twice, especially not when I’m captain next year.”
“Well, then we will look forward to playing with your team,” replied Yukimura calmly. It was in his nature to deflect conflict before it could start. Atobe ignored the other boy and instead walked forward to position himself in front of Sanada.
“Sanada Genichirou,” he said, enunciating each syllable slowly. “Best friend. Second best,” he shrugged his shoulder towards Yukimura. “You may have deceived everyone else with your modest playing style but underneath, there is something volatile and far more interesting. Something only I can see with my insight. I look forward to revealing it.”
“That is enough. Thank you again for your words but we really must go. Excuse us.” Sanada winced at Yukimura’s brisk tone of voice, which the boy used only when he was dealing with especially inconsiderate people.
During the awards ceremony, Sanada could barely pay attention to his surroundings. He was not ready when the trophy was passed to him and would have dropped it if not for his quick reflexes. He looked over to see if Yukimura had noticed his blunder but the other boy was busy waving to the crowds, giving them his modest half-smile. He watched Yukimura and wondered how much the other boy hid beneath that smile. Sanada thought back to Atobe’s words. It was true. He and Yukimura had settled into their respective roles, which felt safe and comfortable for both of them with Yukimura as leader and him, the loyal follower. Maybe his affections for Yukimura had dulled him into settling for second best. He was so caught up in admiration he had forgotten his own purposes for playing tennis, how much he wanted to be the very best.
Sanada wondered if the other boy shared the same thoughts. The more he dwelled on the subject, the more unbearable the ache in his chest grew. Yukimura was like a reflection in the waters; the more he tried to capture it, the more rapidly it would dissolve, leaving him to wonder if it was ever there in the first place.
As the ceremony finally drew to an end, Sanada wanted nothing than to be alone. What little of his desire to celebrate had disappeared. He bid a hasty goodbye to the team and avoided Renji’s concerned glances. He walked away, without glancing at Yukimura, not wanting to see the disappointed expression on his face. Before he could completely leave, he felt a gentle tug on his elbow.
“Take a walk with me, Genichirou.” It was not a question and Sanada obliged immediately. He had long learned that he would never refuse a request from the other boy.
They followed the path down a familiar road, footsteps in pace with each other’s. The silence was not uncomfortable but filled with a sort of subdued anticipation. Finally, Yukimura stopped at a deserted bridge, which they often frequented after school. The sun had just begun to set and Sanada thought that the golden light made everything seem warmer and much more approachable.
Yukimura turned towards him and he was surprised that he could still be left breathless by the other’s grace, despite spending so much time with him.
“Why do you play tennis Sanada?”
“Because tennis is my everything.” Because tennis is you.
“I feel the same way. I would cease to be myself if I could not play tennis.”
“Sanada, this victory is only the beginning for Rikkaidai and if we are to become champions, we will have to go farther than anyone else. Once we rise, we will have so much further to fall.”
“In the end, only your faith in yourself is what matters.” Sanada realized with a jolt Yukimura was purposefully directing the message towards him.
“Many challengers will come—not just Atobe. We must not lose.”
Sanada thought that with the glow of determination blazing in his eyes, Yukimura had never looked more beautiful and at the same time, had never looked more unreachable. He wondered what would happen if he were to reach out and touch him. Would he dissolve like the reflection, which he so resembled? The broken mantra “We must not lose” continued to resound in his mind. And many years from now, Sanada’s dreams will continue to be haunted by both the mantra and the one who created it, though their time will long have passed.
After they watched the sun set over the buildings, the two of them made their way to Yukimura’s house underneath the dusty pink sky. Along the way, they chatted about school and classes but Sanada sensed that something had changed. The delicate equilibrium between them had changed to rearrange itself into something different, something more complex and less easily defined than what had previously existed. During the conversation on the bridge, Yukimura allowed Sanada see behind the image of the ever-smiling boy who always did everything so easily and perfectly as expected of him. Yukimura had the same dreams and consequently burdens and who chose to share this trust with Sanada.
“Would you like to stay a while, Sanada?” They had arrived outside of Yukimura’s house and the maple out front was beginning to darken in color. Though Sanada had been over more than a dozen times before, the way Yukimura asked him made him feel like it was the first time.
“Of course.” They sat outside, on the porch steps leading out into the garden, watching the sky darken all around them. He recalled fondly of all the summers they had spent here as children, staying together like this after a long day catching frogs and dragonflies. If it were not Yukimura, he would probably have spent all the time indoors working on his calligraphy or practicing in the dojo. He was glad to have had such precious memories.
“Do you like the stars, Sanada? It’s a shame that we can’t see them in Tokyo.” When Sanada went camping with his relatives a few years back, he remembered looking at them while sitting beside the bonfire. Though his cousins and aunts always gushed about how pretty the stars were, he never understood the appeal of stargazing.
“They’re…ok.” Yukimura let out a small laugh.
“That is just like you, Genichirou.” He wanted to ask what was just like him but instead asked, “Why do you like stars so much?”
I like the feeling you get when you lie on your back with nothing in sight but the mass of darkness and infinitesimal glimmers of light.” He gestured in front of him with his arms, a far away look in his eyes. “It humbles you, I think, to see something so ancient, so colossal, something that will still be here long after you’ve gone. It lets you put everything in perspective, to see how insignificant we truly are in the grand scheme of things.”
The forlorn quality of Yukimura’s voice gave Sanada a sudden whim to hold the boy next to him tightly, to remind him that someone like him could never be insignificant.
“Sanada?” There was a conflicted expression on Yukimura’s face, as if he were not sure about saying what he had on his mind. Sanada felt a rush of anticipation for it was rare to see the other fumvling when he normally had no uncertainties.
“Yeah?” A profound silence lasted for a few seconds.
“Never mind. It’s not important.” He kept his mouth shut but deep down he knew that anything the other boy had to say was important to him.
“It’s getting late. I should head home now.”
“I will see you at practice then.” Yukimura leaned up and lightly brushed his lips across his cheek, before disappearing behind the door of the building. Sanada stood in place for a while, touching his cheek at the place where the other boy had kissed him. As he strode away, he gave one last glance back. The skin on his cheek burned even though the air that night was cool. Maybe it was a figment of his imagination that he saw a figure in the window, watching as he walked into the distance.
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.
“Renji in singles three. Marui and Jackal in doubles two, and you to end the matches in singles two.” Renji and Yukimura were at Sanada’s house. It had become tradition for the other two to stay at his house the night before matches, to discuss the line-up while he listened and offered an objective opinion, if it was needed.
“Total defeat?” said Renji while raising an eyebrow.
“Of course. There is no meaning in winning unless the outcome is conclusive and unquestionable. It’s the mark of true champions and Rikkai is definitely a true champion. Therefore, we must sweep tomorrow’s matches without losing a single point.”
“I understand but my data shows that the current Hyoutei is nothing like the team that was defeated last year. Hyoutei has gained a new captain, a second year whom we have had the pleasure to meet after our national matches last year.” Renji’s tone was wry.
“Atobe?” It was the first time Sanada had spoken since the conversation had began.
“Yes. Ever since, he became the new captain, he had put together an incredible strong team. Anyone who loses an official matched is replaced immediately by one of the many in that massive tennis club.” A thoughtful silence followed Renji’s pronouncement and Sanada pictured the arrogant boy dismissing players right and left at the snap of a finger.
“Yukimura, is that why you have placed our most steady players first?” asked Sanada suddenly.
“I thought we should defeat Hyoutei swiftly before the members realize that they will lose. A desperate team, that cannot stand defeat, can accomplish miraculous things,” replied Yukimura, smiling. Renji nodded with understanding.
“That is the wisest plan to follow, but this means the weight of the matches rests on the singles two matches.” Renji turned to Sanada who was locked in gaze with Yukimura.
“Sanada, you must win this match. Failure will not be tolerated.”
“Of course.”
As Sanada lay awake that night, he realized that it was the first time in a while since he had felt this excited for a match. Little did he know someone else in the room was also having trouble falling asleep, though for a very different reason.
“Doubles two. Niou-Jackal pair, six games to one.”
The announcer’s voice resounded across the courts and the crowd cheered harder than ever, caught up in the unstoppable momentum resulting from the sweeping victories of the previous two matches. It was a good day for a tennis match. The air was still crisp and the days bright. It was the time of spring, of young dreams and young hearts.
Sanada picked up his racket and let himself into the tennis court. He walked up to the bench, where Yukimura was sitting and observing everything.
“I have nothing new to say. Just play normally.”
“I will.” He turned to walk away.
“Sanada,” called Yukimura suddenly. Sanada paused and looked back.
“I believe in you, in your tennis. You should too, no mater what Atobe or anyone else says.”
“Ah, I understand.” Yukimura’s confidence in him was his greatest resolution.
Sanada found Atobe Keigo staring at him across the net, looking haughty as ever. He had filled out considerably since the last time he saw him. His hair was longer as well.
“Let’s have a nice match.” He extended his arm.
“Of course we will.” Atobe shook his hand. When Sanada pulled back, however, the other boy did not let go and instead tightened the hold on his hand.
“I hope you still remember my words.” Brilliant grey eyes flashed impishly.
His thumb smoothed the skin on the back of Sanada’s hand. Sanada pulled free like he were scorched, arousing only mocking laughter from Atobe.
“You act like an uptight old man, Sanada, yet the looks you keep giving that boy,” he nodded his head to Yukimura, “are anything but innocent.”
Sanada glanced over at Yukimura, who was watching the two of them with a frown on his face.
“I’ll have to change that. When you’re with me, you won’t have the time or energy to focus on anything else. You can take that as a promise,” said Atobe suggestively. Sanada raised an eyebrow in skepticism.
“Delusional musings are unhealthy, Atobe. I thought Hyoutei’s captain would be more sensible than that,” said Sanada coolly, walking to the baseline, Atobe’s amused chuckle was echoing in his ears.
They rallied the first few balls for a while, each trying to gauge the other’s playing capability. However, Atobe quickly tired of this and switched to a more offensive play style. He broke up the established, steady momentum with unexpected net volleys and corner shots, easily taking the first match.
“Have you ever seen Atobe play like that?” asked a Hyoutei second year, Jirou Akutagawa.
“No, I have never seen him playing offense so early in a match. Why is the idiot using so much effort so early in the match?” replied Shishido Ryou, Atobe’s unofficial best friend.
As the two continued their conversation, Yukimura returned his attention to the match. The unease, which he had been feeling increased.
“Atobe, game. Three games to love. Five minute break.”
Sanada returned to the bench as Yukimura handed him a towel and water bottle.
“This is only the beginning, do not worry.”
“Who said I was worried?” Sanada looked up, surprised beneath his towel.
Yukimura simply smiled without explanation. “I trust you, Genichirou so you should trust yourself.” The look in his eyes sad everything he didn’t need to. It was the same look he had when he told Sanada they would be the national champions a year ago.”
What had I been doing? I had lost to no one but Yukimura and I won’t start now.
As he walked back to court, Atobe and he crossed paths to their respective courts.
Atobe raised his eyebrows, “Your eyes have changed.”
“Atobe, I will end this match now.”
“Oh?”
“If I lose to you I would just be another loser, buried, with no way to crawl out of defeat.” Sanada’s voice was not lyrical like Yukimura but Atobe could not help but be mesmerized by the grit. “But he is out there on that stage. I want to reach the place where he is, see how far I can go if I did this with everything I had.” Sanada admitted to himself at last the desire he had to reach the top, which had been suppressed and overpowered for so long since meeting Yukimura.
“Anything other than victory would be meaningless.”
“If it were easy, then this would not be meaningful,” Atobe said cryptically.
The match resumed and Sanada was true to his word. Atobe’s aggressive play style in the first few matches took a toll on his endurance and he soon made careless mistakes out of fatigue. Taking advantage of the situation, Sanada began his offensive play.
“Did you see that? I didn’t even see him swing.”
“Amazing, I was starting to think the match was one-sided.”
Startled remarks sounded from the crowd as a renewed sense of excitement overcame them. The stoic tennis player seemed to step into a second skin as he unleashed his full potential, freed completely from any lingering feelings of self-consciousness or awkwardness before the crowd.
“Game Sanada, five games to three.” Atobe did not score a single point.
“I have never seen Genichirou play like this. It’s frightening,” said Renji.
“That’s because this is no longer about tennis or us. Right now Sanada is fighting for his own triumph,” said Yukimura from the bench.
Yukimura never heard Renji reply for at that moment, an ominous chant rose steadily form the crowd, at first a quiet murmur before growing into a full-fledged mantra.
“General! General!” The crowd repeated until their throats grew hoarse. Yukimura and Renji shared a knowing smile. This was the day they would gain their title nicknames, which would follow them an entire lifetime.
“He really commands respect. I have never seen someone play with so much discipline,” the compliments kept pouring in.
“Shit! Atobe! Shit! Stand up! Stand up!” Jiroh Akutagawa was oblivious to the people starting next to him as he gripped the metal fence so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Think of how far we’ve come! We can’t just let it go to waste. If we lose here-“ his throat closed up and turned away to hide the burning tears of shame in his eyes. He was surprised when he felt a gentle hand come up to ruffle his hair.
“I know,” said Atobe in an uncharacteristically soft tone. He threw over his water bottle, leaving Jirou to catch it with widened eyes. He stared after Atobe before snapping out of the trance and turned toward the monstrous sea of Hyoutei’s player, who had gone slack from seeing its undefeated captain on the verge of losing.
“Come on!” he shouted at them, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Winner will be Atobe Atobe!” Maybe it was the shock of seeing the mild mannered and kindest member of the Hyoutei Regulars running up and down the stands, screaming and cheering with full limbs flailing. The other players began quickly to join in.
It was Atobe’s service game and he took his position in the middle of the baseline after each serve. Unsure of the other’s intentions, Sanada quickly returned to ready position after hitting back the serve.
“Your weakness,” Atobe said under his breath. “I see them.” Sanada could only blink as the ball sped pass him landing with absolute precision in his blind spot. Atobe took the game easily as the crowd, led by Jirou, roared in appreciation.
“I did not expect to be pushed this far,” said Sanada. “I will concede that you are strong Atobe.”
“Same to you” The tension stretched before Sanada gave a small smile.
It was the first time he had played so true to himself. It had been fun, exciting even but now Sanada had to end it. He served. Atobe returned it to a tricky position. The ball was returned easily only to seemingly disappear from view.
“Rin-silent like the forest” The crowd, like Atobe was too shocked to even do anything but gape wordlessly.
No matter how Atobe strained and pushed his body to the limit, he proved no match to Sanada’s Furinkazan. The game and match was over and Rikkai would continue on their journey to victory.
“Sanada!” “Genichirou!” Yukimura and Renji had thrown themselves onto the courts, beaming at him.
“Yukimura” He turned to the boy with a sincere expression. “Thank you for your words during the match.”
“I only said what I believed.”
The three of them walked over to the Hyoutei team. The tension of the matches had dissipated and now many of the players reverted back to their cheerful, friendly selves, sharing banters with the other team, which they had fought so heatedly with just hours before.
“It was a nice game, Atobe.” Sanada offered a genuine handshake, which Atobe accepted.
“Yes, I suppose it was…nice but now that the team and I have played once, I won’t allow us to lose the same team again.”
“I look forward to it.” As they turned to leave, the Hyoutei captain called out suddenly.
“Sanada, if you think I’m giving up after this, then you have really underestimated me.” Sanada alone turned back.
“I wouldn’t dream of anything less from you,” he left the Hyoutei captain to ponder his words.
“He was the strongest player we had faced so far,” said Renji to Yukimura.
“I agree. Even you, Renji, would have been pushed,” Yukimura words were honest but without bite.
“Yeah, I will keep close watch of his progress for next year.”
Yukimura interrupted their musings on tennis with a sudden declaration for celebration. Renji smiled over at his playful expression and asked what the other boy was suggesting. Yukimura remained silent but gave Sanada an appraising look from head to toe, which left him feeling as if naked in front of an audience. Sanada and Renji both noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes, which normally would have left them wary but it for it had been so long since Yukimura were so carefree. Since making the pact with them, Yukimura had thrown himself so completely into the cause for Rikkai’s victory that he rarely had time for other things.
After years of being friends, Sanada was still a little thrown off whenever his friend was in this type of mischievous mood. It happened more frequently when they were younger, where he would flash Sanada a pleading smile before dragging him into plans like playing his art model. Though he did not enjoy the activities in particular, he was always a willing participant for a chance to see Yukimura happy and carefree like kids their age. They had been through much, always dealing with the people who underestimated them for their young age and Yukimura’ delicate appearance. And the few who didn’t watched from the sidelines for any inkling of weakness to mar the record. Over the years, Yukimura had grown even better at maintaining the act of perfection. Sanada knew it was the only way for him to feel strong when they were in such a vulnerable position.
“I think we should get plastered and celebrate like true adults! And Genichirou could pass for a young adult anyways.” Sanada scowled, further verifying the statement. Remarkably, Renji did not offer any sensible protests and so Yukimura grabbed them around the arms, chatting cheerfully the whole way there.
They ended up eating ramen and drinking soda at the food court instead plan aborted when Sanada’s family called and reminded him to be home for a sudden family get-together later tonight. Still it was a great time as they laughed until their bellies ached with Yukimura entertaining them with random stories and tales. Sanada was content just listening to Renji and Yukimura chat and exchange ideas enjoying the comforting presence of his two best friends without speaking. Sanada truly believed the power of their bond and efforts would be enough to overtake the challenges, which lay ahead of them.
The rest of the tournament passed by smoothly and Rikkaidai once again took home the trophy of the national championships. Increasingly the Troika’s reputation was cemented and the world began to forget when the three did not stand together, undefeated.
Though that did not mean there were no changes. The first was the presence of a new transfer freshman, Kirihara Akaya. Causing a ruckus on the first day of school, Kirihara managed to accomplish the feat of offending every single member of the Rikkai tennis team. Sanada was determined to throw him off the courts but Yukimura intervened to give the boy a change to prove his wroth. Akaya was feral and wild, lacking too much of measured training to put up a true challenge against the Troika. Even so, the newly appointed captain had quite taken to the boy’s brash and determined nature and was determined to keep him.
Sanada was appointed with the task of taking the boy in and educating him in the order and discipline of the Rikkai way. It was a tasking role and Sanada’s patience was often worn thin. One day after a particularly tiring day of responding to Akaya’s insolent questions, Sanada, in a sudden outburst, asked Yukimura the reason of putting him in charge of Akaya’s misbehavior. Immediately regretting his impatient tone, Sanada watched in dread as Yukimura eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.
“I would think it would have been obvious. You are the only person who could control that boy. Your authority is unquestionable.” Sanada snorted in disbelief but refrained from throwing his thoughts back at the other boy.
“Besides, it will be good practice for my future vice captain.”
“You’re choosing me?” It was not like Sanada had not considered it but he had always thought Yanagi’s strategic counsel and greater patience would have convinced Seiichi to choose otherwise.
“Your self confidence is lacking, Genichirou. Who else do I trust more than you?” Sanada felt his entire body grow light from happiness. And truthfully, Yukimura’s words did fill him up with confidence as he thought back to their moment on the bridge and how he was the one Yukimura had chosen to share his aspiration of taking the national championships with. In that way, they were completed aligned in heart, which even Renji would not truly understand. Yukimura had set him apart and the knowledge made Sanada’s heartbeat skyrocket.
As Yukimura walked away, an amused Renji came over to stand beside him.
“You may want to be a little more subtle,” he chided teasingly.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sanada deflected the implications. Sanada was getting more annoyed at Renji’s increasing insinuations about his feelings for Yukimura but, truthfully, he was most annoyed with how on target those comments were.
“What I mean is you should say something to him instead of making those lovesick eyes at him whenever you think he is not looking.” Sanada grimaced.
“Am I that obvious?”
“Sadly, yes.”
“You know I could not do that. If it doesn’t work out, our whole tennis team would be jeopardized and you know that is everything to him.” Renji frowned but did not say a word in rebuttal.
Sanada had played the internal debate on repeat for a while now, weighing the precarious consequences with the possibility of sweet relief. Each time though, the result was the same as he put Yukimura’s regard for assured victory over his own feelings.
Contrary to common belief, Sanada was not a late bloomer. He fully understood what Atobe alluded to in his flirtations, the promise of sex behind the heated glances and constant innuendos. He had grown up after all with an older brother and all his careless trysts during the young and hot-blooded days. Sanada knew Yukimura would never fall in the same meaningless category. It happened after a hard day of practice as Sanada was chatting aimlessly with Renji. He had glanced Yukimura coming out of the shower, the same body he had seen countless times before only to realize he wanted to put action to admiration; he had always watched the other boy but now he also knew what he wanted to do with those fine features and slender form.
Despite Sanada’s resolve, his attraction only grew stronger. At night he lay awake thinking of Yukimura constantly until sleep overtook him. And though his thighs were sticky, his body was not deceived and yearned for more than just fantasy. It was like drinking seawater, which granted temporary relief but really resulted in more suffering later on. Sanada was left with unsatisfied desires, which weighed more heavily on his battered and growing body.
