[fic] "An Old-Fashioned Rivalry," SanaAto, PG [1/3]
please don't mind this much, this is just a very lame attempt at making myself laugh >P
very much a quickie. done in-between articles. tell me if i should've watched 140 before writing this, i kind of subsisted on screencaps and summaries ...and actually the screencaps and summaries i subsisted on have nothing at all to do with this fic ^^v
thanks to lecumedesjour_s for info on jr. high and high school tennis tournaments :)
c'mon BT, you can go slower than that.
An Old-Fashioned Rivalry
by MorphailEffect
October the 4th wasn't a special date.
There was no reason for Sanada to feel restless all that day.
The Junior Senbatsu took place in May. The national tournament was over. Sanada should have saved up enough memories of the young Hyoutei regular to last him the remainder of the school year.
Yet for some reason, he couldn't shake that damn boy's arrogant face from his mind.
All they ever did was fight. In Jr. Senbatsu, if they weren't taking potshots at each other's living habits, they were insulting each other's philosophies, under the disguise of conducting deep philosophical debates well into the morning. This almost nightly exercise resulted in both of them being cranky and inefficient during practice almost everyday. Nothing that happened was pleasant enough to warrant recollection.
Except...
"Genichirou," a familiar voice called from across the vast water. "You're about to lose."
What? "Oh."
Swing. The face of the racket touched the ball, and the flat shot launched the projectile smoothly to Yanagi's side. Point.
Yanagi stood up straight and watched the ball roll off after hitting the far fence. "Huh," he remarked thoughtfully.
"What?" his opponent demanded.
"Your first point of the day."
Sanada couldn't believe it. Was that right? He tried to think back to the beginning of the match through the haze, pieced together what little he could find, and realized -- yes, they were indeed at 40-15.
And at the moment Yanagi was standing at the opposite court waiting for him to say something before serving again.
Sanada allowed himself a second to feel embarrassed. He was lucky Yanagi was the first person he faced on the Rikkai practice courts that day. Yanagi wouldn't have let him lose in a distracted state. If it had been, say, Akaya, though, he would not only have lost with great humiliation -- he would be reminded of it for several weeks.
...Wait, he was in a distracted state?
"I see," Yanagi continued to say, in his serene, subtly amused your-ass-is-mine manner. "You could call him, you know. He might be expecting you to."
Sanada's indignance was real. "What are you talking about? Call who?"
"090-9932-4233."
Sanada stared.
"That's the one he uses on Thursdays," Yanagi continued, absolutely calm. "It's the one that stands the highest chance of being active today, even if it IS a special occasion. Doubtless, tomorrow, you'll have to call him at 090-9533-6436."
"...Maybe we should take a break." Without waiting for confirmation, Sanada turned around and headed for the benches. He set his racket aside, grabbed a towel, sat down with it and pretended Yanagi didn't exist.
He had to raise his eyes to acknowledge his friend's presence, though, when Yanagi handed him a cell phone a little later.
"I'll tell Jackal you have it in case he comes looking," Yanagi said with a doting smile -- which would have been infuriating, if Sanada hadn't been so confused. "I'll be at the club room going over some notes, come for me when you're ready to resume our game. 090-9932-4233." And with that, Yanagi left him to launch the call in peace.
Sanada stared dumbly at the phone in his hand. There was no reason for him to be so disturbed. But Yanagi knew when he was upset even if it didn't show on his face...
October the 4th meant nothing, especially not to him, on that year it was just another Thursday in an endless line of Thursdays.
There was no reason for him to do what Yanagi told him to do.
...
0...9...0...9...932...and what was that again?
He managed it, finally, and put the phone to his ear.
Three rings.
Sanada frowned.
Three more rings.
The frown turned into a scowl.
A series of beeps. And a low growl issued from the back of Sanada's throat.
That's it for that idea.
He ended the call and all but slammed the cell onto the bench. Then he stood, threw the towel around his shoulders aside. He shouldn't delay his and Yanagi's match for such a foolish activity.
...And yet.
There was the redial option.
After the second try's sixth ring, the call was accepted. He guessed correctly: the person on the other end delighted in being fashionably unreachable for the first few tries.
"This is Atobe Keigo. Who is this."
The voice was very definitely masculine. It was even an annoyed kind of. It floated through to the other end of the line and unsettled something in Sanada, the way rain upsets the desert when it's just starting to fall.
But he would not be out-masculined.
"Atobe," he said gruffly. "It's...Sanada."
There was something going on at the other end of the line. People talking, distant voices. Glasses clicking. And a piano playing a classical European piece at the very background. It all painted a picture of one of those sophisticated Western parties that involved much mingling and alcohol. It caused a light shudder down the samurai's spine.
"So." A chuckle. Melodic but at the same time scathing. "To what do I owe the honor?"
Sanada never said "Happy birthday." Or even "best wishes," which he said to people he HAD to greet, but didn't give a rat's ass about. He just thought he would call, it was long overdue. Ah, well then. It's appreciated. Things are good here. Your family's doing well?
But somehow the conversation ended with Atobe mentioning, ever so casually, that he was visiting Kanagawa tomorrow to buy equipment he couldn't find anywhere else. He mentioned a store, a place that Sanada was familiar with. He was surprised Atobe knew about it.
Someone spoke to Atobe off to the side. Atobe turned to the phone again just to deliver a gracious but abrupt "I'll expect to see you if you're available."
Then he ended the call, just before the person who called could berate him for telling him what to do.
Sanada set aside the phone with a thoughtful, puzzled frown. He could only wish the little inflections in the other boy's voice hadn't ended up affecting him so strangely, soothing and exciting him at the same time.
Disliking someone is great fun until you realize he turns you on.
(to be continued)
******************************
* er...how are japanese cell phone numbers written? it's 11 digits, right? edit: yes, it is :D thanks, eda!
* edit: i lied. i have nothing else to say.
******************************
also, from here and many other people. was just too amusing not to post.
You are a WRCL--Wacky Rational Constructive Leader. This makes you a golden god. People gravitate to you, and you make them feel good. You are smart, charismatic, and interesting. You may be too sensitive to others reactions, especially criticism. Your self-opinion and mood depends greatly on those around you.
You think fast and have a smart mouth, is a hoot to your friends and razorwire to your enemies. You hold a grudge like a brass ring. You crackle.
Although you have a leader's personality, you often choose not to lead, as leaders stray too far from their audience. You probably weren't very popular in high school--the joke's on them!
You may be a rock star.
<-- yeah. no. who da god? YOU DA GOD!
edit: ahem. meant to say this result is just amusing, it isn't me. if i'm right and this is some half-assed version of the myer-briggs typology, i'm not even "wacky" (extrovert). it was fun to be cast as one though.
very much a quickie. done in-between articles. tell me if i should've watched 140 before writing this, i kind of subsisted on screencaps and summaries ...and actually the screencaps and summaries i subsisted on have nothing at all to do with this fic ^^v
thanks to lecumedesjour_s for info on jr. high and high school tennis tournaments :)
c'mon BT, you can go slower than that.
An Old-Fashioned Rivalry
by MorphailEffect
October the 4th wasn't a special date.
There was no reason for Sanada to feel restless all that day.
The Junior Senbatsu took place in May. The national tournament was over. Sanada should have saved up enough memories of the young Hyoutei regular to last him the remainder of the school year.
Yet for some reason, he couldn't shake that damn boy's arrogant face from his mind.
All they ever did was fight. In Jr. Senbatsu, if they weren't taking potshots at each other's living habits, they were insulting each other's philosophies, under the disguise of conducting deep philosophical debates well into the morning. This almost nightly exercise resulted in both of them being cranky and inefficient during practice almost everyday. Nothing that happened was pleasant enough to warrant recollection.
Except...
"Genichirou," a familiar voice called from across the vast water. "You're about to lose."
What? "Oh."
Swing. The face of the racket touched the ball, and the flat shot launched the projectile smoothly to Yanagi's side. Point.
Yanagi stood up straight and watched the ball roll off after hitting the far fence. "Huh," he remarked thoughtfully.
"What?" his opponent demanded.
"Your first point of the day."
Sanada couldn't believe it. Was that right? He tried to think back to the beginning of the match through the haze, pieced together what little he could find, and realized -- yes, they were indeed at 40-15.
And at the moment Yanagi was standing at the opposite court waiting for him to say something before serving again.
Sanada allowed himself a second to feel embarrassed. He was lucky Yanagi was the first person he faced on the Rikkai practice courts that day. Yanagi wouldn't have let him lose in a distracted state. If it had been, say, Akaya, though, he would not only have lost with great humiliation -- he would be reminded of it for several weeks.
...Wait, he was in a distracted state?
"I see," Yanagi continued to say, in his serene, subtly amused your-ass-is-mine manner. "You could call him, you know. He might be expecting you to."
Sanada's indignance was real. "What are you talking about? Call who?"
"090-9932-4233."
Sanada stared.
"That's the one he uses on Thursdays," Yanagi continued, absolutely calm. "It's the one that stands the highest chance of being active today, even if it IS a special occasion. Doubtless, tomorrow, you'll have to call him at 090-9533-6436."
"...Maybe we should take a break." Without waiting for confirmation, Sanada turned around and headed for the benches. He set his racket aside, grabbed a towel, sat down with it and pretended Yanagi didn't exist.
He had to raise his eyes to acknowledge his friend's presence, though, when Yanagi handed him a cell phone a little later.
"I'll tell Jackal you have it in case he comes looking," Yanagi said with a doting smile -- which would have been infuriating, if Sanada hadn't been so confused. "I'll be at the club room going over some notes, come for me when you're ready to resume our game. 090-9932-4233." And with that, Yanagi left him to launch the call in peace.
Sanada stared dumbly at the phone in his hand. There was no reason for him to be so disturbed. But Yanagi knew when he was upset even if it didn't show on his face...
October the 4th meant nothing, especially not to him, on that year it was just another Thursday in an endless line of Thursdays.
There was no reason for him to do what Yanagi told him to do.
...
0...9...0...9...932...and what was that again?
He managed it, finally, and put the phone to his ear.
Three rings.
Sanada frowned.
Three more rings.
The frown turned into a scowl.
A series of beeps. And a low growl issued from the back of Sanada's throat.
That's it for that idea.
He ended the call and all but slammed the cell onto the bench. Then he stood, threw the towel around his shoulders aside. He shouldn't delay his and Yanagi's match for such a foolish activity.
...And yet.
There was the redial option.
After the second try's sixth ring, the call was accepted. He guessed correctly: the person on the other end delighted in being fashionably unreachable for the first few tries.
"This is Atobe Keigo. Who is this."
The voice was very definitely masculine. It was even an annoyed kind of. It floated through to the other end of the line and unsettled something in Sanada, the way rain upsets the desert when it's just starting to fall.
But he would not be out-masculined.
"Atobe," he said gruffly. "It's...Sanada."
There was something going on at the other end of the line. People talking, distant voices. Glasses clicking. And a piano playing a classical European piece at the very background. It all painted a picture of one of those sophisticated Western parties that involved much mingling and alcohol. It caused a light shudder down the samurai's spine.
"So." A chuckle. Melodic but at the same time scathing. "To what do I owe the honor?"
Sanada never said "Happy birthday." Or even "best wishes," which he said to people he HAD to greet, but didn't give a rat's ass about. He just thought he would call, it was long overdue. Ah, well then. It's appreciated. Things are good here. Your family's doing well?
But somehow the conversation ended with Atobe mentioning, ever so casually, that he was visiting Kanagawa tomorrow to buy equipment he couldn't find anywhere else. He mentioned a store, a place that Sanada was familiar with. He was surprised Atobe knew about it.
Someone spoke to Atobe off to the side. Atobe turned to the phone again just to deliver a gracious but abrupt "I'll expect to see you if you're available."
Then he ended the call, just before the person who called could berate him for telling him what to do.
Sanada set aside the phone with a thoughtful, puzzled frown. He could only wish the little inflections in the other boy's voice hadn't ended up affecting him so strangely, soothing and exciting him at the same time.
Disliking someone is great fun until you realize he turns you on.
(to be continued)
******************************
* er...how are japanese cell phone numbers written? it's 11 digits, right? edit: yes, it is :D thanks, eda!
* edit: i lied. i have nothing else to say.
******************************
also, from here and many other people. was just too amusing not to post.
You are a WRCL--Wacky Rational Constructive Leader. This makes you a golden god. People gravitate to you, and you make them feel good. You are smart, charismatic, and interesting. You may be too sensitive to others reactions, especially criticism. Your self-opinion and mood depends greatly on those around you.
You think fast and have a smart mouth, is a hoot to your friends and razorwire to your enemies. You hold a grudge like a brass ring. You crackle.
Although you have a leader's personality, you often choose not to lead, as leaders stray too far from their audience. You probably weren't very popular in high school--the joke's on them!
You may be a rock star.
<-- yeah. no. who da god? YOU DA GOD!
edit: ahem. meant to say this result is just amusing, it isn't me. if i'm right and this is some half-assed version of the myer-briggs typology, i'm not even "wacky" (extrovert). it was fun to be cast as one though.