mood |
sad
New layout! *is thoroughly exhausted*
And another flashfic. For those who are confused, here is my tagging system:
drabble = 100 words
flashfic = more than 100 but less than 500
ficlet = more than 500 but less than 1000
YES XD. Onward!
Title: Yours Helplessly
Author:
aperu_samaFandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Unrequited Sanada/Yukimura
Rating: PG
Warnings: ANGST, ahoy!
The night before the nationals, Sanada goes to the hospital.
Yukimura is there, drifting through the corridors, with little, pasty-faced creatures chasing at his heels.
He smiles wordlessly when Sanada approaches - the children scatter like leaves. There’s a healthy flush across his cheeks today, but his expression is too reassuring, his breath coming in careful puffs.
Sanada escorts him to his room, bites back any chastising words and politely turns away when he clambers into bed. It doesn’t suit Yukimura, this clumsiness. It’s that insatiable sickness again - taking away everything Sanada wants and knows.
His fist tightens suddenly. There’s a crunch of stalks against his palm.
“Daffodils, again?”
“Ah.” He glances down, considers their drooping, yellow heads. “Tulips then. For next time.”
Yukimura chuckles woodenly, reaches out for the gift with hungry fingers and despairing eyes. “Next time…”
Will there be a next time?
“The day after tomorrow. I’ll bring tulips.” Definitely. He won’t forget.
Yukimura acts as though he hasn’t heard, stares at the wall and out the window. There’s nothing to see. Then, after some time - minutes, hours - he speaks. Not to Sanada, to the flowers, with their clean, open faces. Smoothes the bright cellophane with pale fingers. “I wonder what it’s like to never wake up.”
Later, when Sanada has left, the bouquet is crushed to his chest with greedy arms, blue spilling over the sheets as he crumples. Face pressed into the mattress, he sobs and gasps and quakes.
Sanada watches through the window in the door. He wonders where the darkness has come from.
The hospital is flooded with light.