I Had to Be the Good One [Prince of Tennis: Fuji/Sanada, Fuji/Tezuka, Yukimura/Sanada]
title: I had to be the good one.
characters/pairings: Fuji/Sanada, Fuji/Tezuka, Yukimura/Sanada.
summary: Set at the Junior Selection Camp. Fuji and Sanada without their captains.
wordcount: 1574
prompt: prompt table.
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It begins with a slip that is completely out of character for Sanada.
"Something about you reminds me of Seiichi," he says idly to Fuji when they sit down on the bench after practicing together.
"Seiichi?" Fuji asks. "Your captain, Yukimura; yes?"
Sanada does not answer, only scowls at the court in front of them as blackly as possible as if to berate himself or attempt to erase his previous words. Fuji says nothing further.
-
"You could be a much better player than this." Sanada says matter-of-factly over Fuji's shoulder as he sits eating with the rest of Seigaku.
"That's not an uncommon opinion," Fuji says amiably. He takes another bite of his meal.
"Why do you have no motivation to try?"
"Excuse me," Momo begins before Fuji can make any kind of reply, "but we were all having a conversation here. And eating more importantly!"
"I apologize." Sanada batted back quickly, in a tone that was barely above polite. He walked away, and his words were quickly forgotten by nearly everyone.
-
"As you may have noticed from experience, official matches on the court don't tend to last very long," To his credit, Sanada did not even flinch at the sound of Fuji's confident voice weaving it's way through the darkness. He was sat on the bench beside the court, waiting. "I guess no-one has been able to challenge me enough." Fuji shrugged, sitting down and glancing at Sanada's tennis racket, which he spun on the ground slowly with one hand.
"Kirihara wasn't enough of a challenge for you?" Sanada seemed almost amused at the thought; for the first time Fuji saw something reminiscent of a smile on his lips.
"Considering the way you spoke to him after the match, I would say you know the answer to that one. Besides, he had made a mistake, acting the way he did."
"Fudomine's Tachibana..." Sanada said thoughtfully, "You care about him a lot."
"Not as much as he cares about me." Fuji replied.
"Than I should surely hate to see him playing a match against someone who had purposely injured you."
Fuji did not reply.
"I believe you came here for a reason?" It was phrased as a question but it was not a real one. Fuji stood, holding his tennis racket loosely by his side. He did not attempt to pretend over why he was there; Sanada appreciated that.
-
"You're a better player than me." Fuji said, his voice carrying over the net.
"I should hope so, at your current level." Sanada snorted in reply. "But if you were challenged beyond protecting those you love, would you be better than me then?"
"I could not tell you," Fuji said, his eyes catching sight of the ball Sanada had taken out of his pocket. He stepped out with one foot and lowered his body closer to the ground. "I am possibly the one least aware of what I could really do. I've never had any desire to discover it."
"Why is that?" Sanada almost shouted, serving the ball so quickly Fuji could not respond. It hit the fence and bounced back towards the court.
"I think people will notice us if you make this much noise the entire time we're out here."
"They won't." Sanada said firmly. "I come out here most evenings, nobody ever notices."
"Do you think about Yukimura?" Fuji asked, knowing his question was far too personal.
Sanada scowled.
"We're here to discuss you, not me." He replied as evenly as he could. "And definitely not Yukimura."
Fuji shrugged. "As you say," he said, picking up the tennis ball and returning it to Sanada so that he could serve again.
"Are you going to try this time?" Sanada asked.
"Do you want me to?"
-
"You're still not trying hard enough." Sanada said softly behind Fuji as they left the court.
Sanada had beaten him, and yet Fuji didn't seem to care.
"I'm sorry, it wasn't a conscious thing."
Sanada contemplates this response as they walk back to the dormitories. He steps out ahead to lead the way back to his own room, uncaring whether Fuji notices or whether he follows. He will soon see when he turns to close the door to his room behind him whether he still has company or not.
"Won't your careful planning to hide our meeting from everyone go to waste if we find your roommate in there?" Fuji asked just before Sanada reached the door, truly making him jump that time.
"Yanagi knows when to keep quiet." Sanada said firmly. "And when he is somewhere he should not be."
"Ah," Fuji replied, smiling. Sanada opened the door, pretending a confidence he did not feel inside. One glare might do it, but for a few brief moments he would have to suffer Yanagi taking in the situation with his own eyes and coming to his own conclusions. That perhaps might be worse than anything else Sanada could say to explain the situation to him.
The room was empty, as was the bathroom, they could tell from the distinct lack of sound or sense of life.
"I told you he knows when not to be somewhere." Sanada said, letting Fuji through the door and wishing he could lock it behind them.
-
It feels strange to Fuji, to be the one with his back against the mattress, to have someone straddling his waist and looking down on him. He is used to being the one to look down, but he reminds himself that he agreed to be challenged by Sanada, and that he cannot back out now because he is in a strange situation. To learn more about human nature he must be committed to any number of unexpected things.
Sanada takes his time; Fuji suspects it is less that he is taking everything in thoroughly, so much as it is finding himself in a room with someone he had been deluding himself was Yukimura Seiichi, and now when faced with reality, not knowing what to do with the cards he had dealt for himself.
He is highly tempted to take the situation into his own hands, as he is so used to doing, but Fuji does not know the dynamics between Sanada and his captain, whether it will be the right move, or whether it will snap the dream-thread entirely. Sanada had brought them this far himself, the decisions would have to be his. Fuji let out a long breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and resolved to play however Sanada wanted.
-
Sanada's warm hands were silently praising a tiny waist Fuji had never given much thought or attention to when they were both broken of their shared reverie by the sound of the doorknob turning. Believing that the only person who would enter the room without knocking would be Renji, Sanada resolved not to hide or pretend that this was anything other than it was.
Which made it extremely awkard when the person at the door turned out to be...
"Tezuka?" Sanada's voice wasn't much higher than usual, but to himself he felt he sounded like a tiny squeaking mouse. Though he hadn't breached the subject with Fuji himself, it hadn't taken him much to work out thatthe two of them had a... history.
"Your roommate told me where I might find you, both of you." Tezuka said flatly. "You may wish to rethink the amount you confide in him."
"I told him nothing." Sanada insisted. Tezuka shrugged.
"Than you might want to attempt to be more cunning around him concerning your personal matters." Tezuka had held his eyes during the entire echange; it was unnerving that he could act like Fuji simply was not there, though it must have been setting a fire inside of him. And Fuji was not even worried; he had raised himself up onto his elbows a little and was following their exchange openly. He had a lot more faith in Tezuka than Sanada did at that moment.
"So," Tezuka said finally, his eyes switching to Fuji and changing in the depths. "Why are you here?"
Fuji pulled his legs up towards himself easily, finding that Sanada had subconsciously lifted much of his weight from Fuji. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and rose up off of it without eevn attempting to button up his shirt or rearrange his mussed hair. Tezuka watched him the entire time more and more intently the longer the silence reigned.
Fuji almost shrugged, but not quite. "He needed someone." He said, referencing Sanada but perhaps not daring to say his name. "I wanted to try something different." He lets a dark and ironic grin break out on his face. "His tennis is challenging."
Tezuka's expression did not change, but there was something akin to hurt in his voice when he spoke. "You can say some very cutting and poignant things with that smile on your face, Syuusuke."
Fuji lowers his voice to a murmur that can still be heard. "Let's not do this in front of him, Tezuka."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Tezuka replied, and nodded towards Sanada. "Goodnight, Genichirou."
Sanada looks at them both through half-closed eyes for a long minute. Eventually he nods his acknowledgment of Tezuka's words, and watches the pair leave. Just before the door closes behind them he sees Fuji's hand reach up to touch Tezuka's shoulder, and Seigaku's captain shudders, then seems to let something go and the tension in his shoulders eases.
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characters/pairings: Fuji/Sanada, Fuji/Tezuka, Yukimura/Sanada.
summary: Set at the Junior Selection Camp. Fuji and Sanada without their captains.
wordcount: 1574
prompt: prompt table.
-
-
It begins with a slip that is completely out of character for Sanada.
"Something about you reminds me of Seiichi," he says idly to Fuji when they sit down on the bench after practicing together.
"Seiichi?" Fuji asks. "Your captain, Yukimura; yes?"
Sanada does not answer, only scowls at the court in front of them as blackly as possible as if to berate himself or attempt to erase his previous words. Fuji says nothing further.
-
"You could be a much better player than this." Sanada says matter-of-factly over Fuji's shoulder as he sits eating with the rest of Seigaku.
"That's not an uncommon opinion," Fuji says amiably. He takes another bite of his meal.
"Why do you have no motivation to try?"
"Excuse me," Momo begins before Fuji can make any kind of reply, "but we were all having a conversation here. And eating more importantly!"
"I apologize." Sanada batted back quickly, in a tone that was barely above polite. He walked away, and his words were quickly forgotten by nearly everyone.
-
"As you may have noticed from experience, official matches on the court don't tend to last very long," To his credit, Sanada did not even flinch at the sound of Fuji's confident voice weaving it's way through the darkness. He was sat on the bench beside the court, waiting. "I guess no-one has been able to challenge me enough." Fuji shrugged, sitting down and glancing at Sanada's tennis racket, which he spun on the ground slowly with one hand.
"Kirihara wasn't enough of a challenge for you?" Sanada seemed almost amused at the thought; for the first time Fuji saw something reminiscent of a smile on his lips.
"Considering the way you spoke to him after the match, I would say you know the answer to that one. Besides, he had made a mistake, acting the way he did."
"Fudomine's Tachibana..." Sanada said thoughtfully, "You care about him a lot."
"Not as much as he cares about me." Fuji replied.
"Than I should surely hate to see him playing a match against someone who had purposely injured you."
Fuji did not reply.
"I believe you came here for a reason?" It was phrased as a question but it was not a real one. Fuji stood, holding his tennis racket loosely by his side. He did not attempt to pretend over why he was there; Sanada appreciated that.
-
"You're a better player than me." Fuji said, his voice carrying over the net.
"I should hope so, at your current level." Sanada snorted in reply. "But if you were challenged beyond protecting those you love, would you be better than me then?"
"I could not tell you," Fuji said, his eyes catching sight of the ball Sanada had taken out of his pocket. He stepped out with one foot and lowered his body closer to the ground. "I am possibly the one least aware of what I could really do. I've never had any desire to discover it."
"Why is that?" Sanada almost shouted, serving the ball so quickly Fuji could not respond. It hit the fence and bounced back towards the court.
"I think people will notice us if you make this much noise the entire time we're out here."
"They won't." Sanada said firmly. "I come out here most evenings, nobody ever notices."
"Do you think about Yukimura?" Fuji asked, knowing his question was far too personal.
Sanada scowled.
"We're here to discuss you, not me." He replied as evenly as he could. "And definitely not Yukimura."
Fuji shrugged. "As you say," he said, picking up the tennis ball and returning it to Sanada so that he could serve again.
"Are you going to try this time?" Sanada asked.
"Do you want me to?"
-
"You're still not trying hard enough." Sanada said softly behind Fuji as they left the court.
Sanada had beaten him, and yet Fuji didn't seem to care.
"I'm sorry, it wasn't a conscious thing."
Sanada contemplates this response as they walk back to the dormitories. He steps out ahead to lead the way back to his own room, uncaring whether Fuji notices or whether he follows. He will soon see when he turns to close the door to his room behind him whether he still has company or not.
"Won't your careful planning to hide our meeting from everyone go to waste if we find your roommate in there?" Fuji asked just before Sanada reached the door, truly making him jump that time.
"Yanagi knows when to keep quiet." Sanada said firmly. "And when he is somewhere he should not be."
"Ah," Fuji replied, smiling. Sanada opened the door, pretending a confidence he did not feel inside. One glare might do it, but for a few brief moments he would have to suffer Yanagi taking in the situation with his own eyes and coming to his own conclusions. That perhaps might be worse than anything else Sanada could say to explain the situation to him.
The room was empty, as was the bathroom, they could tell from the distinct lack of sound or sense of life.
"I told you he knows when not to be somewhere." Sanada said, letting Fuji through the door and wishing he could lock it behind them.
-
It feels strange to Fuji, to be the one with his back against the mattress, to have someone straddling his waist and looking down on him. He is used to being the one to look down, but he reminds himself that he agreed to be challenged by Sanada, and that he cannot back out now because he is in a strange situation. To learn more about human nature he must be committed to any number of unexpected things.
Sanada takes his time; Fuji suspects it is less that he is taking everything in thoroughly, so much as it is finding himself in a room with someone he had been deluding himself was Yukimura Seiichi, and now when faced with reality, not knowing what to do with the cards he had dealt for himself.
He is highly tempted to take the situation into his own hands, as he is so used to doing, but Fuji does not know the dynamics between Sanada and his captain, whether it will be the right move, or whether it will snap the dream-thread entirely. Sanada had brought them this far himself, the decisions would have to be his. Fuji let out a long breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, and resolved to play however Sanada wanted.
-
Sanada's warm hands were silently praising a tiny waist Fuji had never given much thought or attention to when they were both broken of their shared reverie by the sound of the doorknob turning. Believing that the only person who would enter the room without knocking would be Renji, Sanada resolved not to hide or pretend that this was anything other than it was.
Which made it extremely awkard when the person at the door turned out to be...
"Tezuka?" Sanada's voice wasn't much higher than usual, but to himself he felt he sounded like a tiny squeaking mouse. Though he hadn't breached the subject with Fuji himself, it hadn't taken him much to work out thatthe two of them had a... history.
"Your roommate told me where I might find you, both of you." Tezuka said flatly. "You may wish to rethink the amount you confide in him."
"I told him nothing." Sanada insisted. Tezuka shrugged.
"Than you might want to attempt to be more cunning around him concerning your personal matters." Tezuka had held his eyes during the entire echange; it was unnerving that he could act like Fuji simply was not there, though it must have been setting a fire inside of him. And Fuji was not even worried; he had raised himself up onto his elbows a little and was following their exchange openly. He had a lot more faith in Tezuka than Sanada did at that moment.
"So," Tezuka said finally, his eyes switching to Fuji and changing in the depths. "Why are you here?"
Fuji pulled his legs up towards himself easily, finding that Sanada had subconsciously lifted much of his weight from Fuji. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and rose up off of it without eevn attempting to button up his shirt or rearrange his mussed hair. Tezuka watched him the entire time more and more intently the longer the silence reigned.
Fuji almost shrugged, but not quite. "He needed someone." He said, referencing Sanada but perhaps not daring to say his name. "I wanted to try something different." He lets a dark and ironic grin break out on his face. "His tennis is challenging."
Tezuka's expression did not change, but there was something akin to hurt in his voice when he spoke. "You can say some very cutting and poignant things with that smile on your face, Syuusuke."
Fuji lowers his voice to a murmur that can still be heard. "Let's not do this in front of him, Tezuka."
"I wouldn't dream of it." Tezuka replied, and nodded towards Sanada. "Goodnight, Genichirou."
Sanada looks at them both through half-closed eyes for a long minute. Eventually he nods his acknowledgment of Tezuka's words, and watches the pair leave. Just before the door closes behind them he sees Fuji's hand reach up to touch Tezuka's shoulder, and Seigaku's captain shudders, then seems to let something go and the tension in his shoulders eases.
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