Crash and Burn for Skyblue44!
Title: Crash and Burn
Author: monarchist
Recipient: sky_blue44
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Yukimura made a decision, leaving destruction in his wake. Realizing his error, he tries to make amends.
Notes: Sanada/Yukimura
Yukimura shifts in the overly large bed. He stretches out and pulls back quickly. The other side is too cold for comfort. He sighs and twists the duvet tighter around him.
His phone goes off at 8:14 AM. He lets it go to voicemail. Whoever it is calls again at 8:17, 8:19, and 8:25 before Yukimura groans and sits up in bed cursing himself for not putting the damn thing on vibrate.
He punches a couple of buttons and the phone starts ringing on the other side.
"Good morning, Seiichi. Four times is a new record."
Yukimura yawns. "You're just lucky I was half awake when you started calling."
"At least you called back. Genichirou still hasn't returned any of my messages."
Yukimura bites his tongue. It's too early to be mean to Yanagi, even if he really wants to be. "To be fair, he's ignored mine too."
Yanagi hums. "Anyway, due to... current circumstances I've revised your entry for the next tournament. Unfortunately, you'll be in the qualifying draws, but--"
"I figured as much."
"Unless you'd rather skip and come home. I noticed a five percent decrease in grip and an eight-point-three in stance."
"...oh." Yukimura looks at his hands then at the empty side of the bed. "No, I'm staying. I'll fix it."
"Seiichi..."
"I'll be fine, Renji. It's nothing I can't handle. Promise."
"Of course. Your match today is at eleven, so I recommend preparing now."
"Yes sir," Yukimura says with a slight laugh. "Talk to you later."
"Have a good match."
The line goes dead. Yukimura falls back into bed.
--
Sanada stares up at the ceiling. The sheets are pooled in a heap at the foot of the bed. Even now, he's burning up and he half wonders if he's getting sick.
Doubtful, says the voice in his head.
His phone lights up on the nightstand next to the bed, but he ignores it, turning away from the buzzing. He attempts to go back to sleep and ends up watching the clock change from one minute to the next.
"Hey fukubuchou, you wanna hit some balls?" Kirihara calls through the door.
Sanada blinks and looks at the clock. It reads 10:28 AM. He honestly can't remember the last time he stayed in bed past six thirty.
"Give me five minutes."
"Can you at least let me in? It's weird standing out here yelling at a door."
Sanada rolls his eyes and gets out of bed, padding to the door. He opens it up just enough that Kirihara can get in then goes to the bathroom.
"I don't have a match today. Do you?"
"You wouldn't be in my hotel room if you or I did."
"Oh." Kirihara sits on the bed and kicks his feet against it. "Buchou won."
"Good for him."
"Are you two still not talking?"
Sanada leaves the bathroom and rifles through his suitcase. "I don't know where you got that idea from. We're playing different tournaments. That doesn't mean we aren't talking."
"Yanagi-senpai says it does."
"Occasionally Yanagi can be wrong."
While Sanada is in the bathroom, his phone goes off again. Kirihara grabs and opens it. "You have a new voicemail from Yanagi-senpai and did you know you have twenty missed calls from him and almost twice that from buchou?"
"What the hell are you doing?" Sanada asks sharply, leaving the bathroom in a rush and snatching the phone from Kirihara's hands, snapping it closed. He sets it back down on the nightstand then sits on the bed. "Just go use the ball machine. I don't want to put up with you today."
Kirihara frowns and gets up. "Fine. Be that way. It's not like it matters. I'm still going to crush you tomorrow, practice or not."
Sanada doesn't protest. Lack of proper sleep is going to do him in, not Kirihara. When the door clicks, he lies back down on the bed and prays for sleep to come.
--
"It's quite sad, really," Yukimura tells the front desk clerk. "The person I'm staying with gave me the other one when I arrived, but now I've seem to have misplaced it."
"How unfortunate. What's your room number?"
Yukimura checks his phone for the text that Yanagi had sent him that morning. "Thirty-seven eighteen."
"Thank you, sir."
He watches her type in the information and grab a blank room card which she programs before handing it over.
"Here you go. Try not to lose it again, okay?" She smiles at her joke.
"I'll try my best," Yukimura says, tucking the key into his pocket. "Thank you so much."
Yukimura adjusts his bag and heads towards the elevators. He doesn't remember which floor the room is on, but he has time to check. After two dings, the doors open. He reads the sign, but doesn't step out. This pattern repeats thirteen times. On the sixteenth floor, he sees thirty-seven hundred one to thirty-seven fifty. Jackpot.
A little green light signifies his successful entry into Sanada's room. Yukimura deigns to stay quiet, lest he get thrown across the room via judo throw. Plus, it's late and he knows Sanada is probably asleep. Hopefully.
He closes the door softly behind him and unloads his bags next to a chair. It takes a fair bit of feeling around before he finds the bed and makes sure one side of it is empty. Yukimura carefully lies down and presses himself against Sanada's back.
"How did you get in?"
Yukimura frowns. Sanada doesn't even sound tired. "Key, of course. Why are you awake? It's almost midnight," he whispers.
"Can't sleep." Sanada doesn't question Yukimura's getting a key and effectively breaking into his room.
"If you had blankets on the bed, that might help." Yukimura moves to find them, but is stopped by Sanada's arm.
"It's too damn hot if I keep them on the bed."
"Oh."
"Regardless, don't you have your own room?"
"Not exactly. It got cancelled."
Sanada lets out a grunt. "How convenient."
Yukimura shifts, half sitting up. He braces himself on the bed with one hand and latches onto Sanada's hip with the other. "Computer error. It was completely out of my hands. At least this way you can't ignore me."
"Do you really want to test that theory?"
"No, but I really don't like it and I wish you would stop."
"I'm not the one that started it."
"You could be the mature one and end it."
"I'm always the mature one," Sanada says gruffly and turns sharply, causing Yukimura to fall back onto the bed. "Besides, you shouldn't be here. I'm quite sure you are needed back home for a number of tests and new medication."
"Just because my grip is a bit weak doesn't mean I need to go home. Nothing is wrong with me."
Sanada laughs. It sounds hollow and derisive and makes Yukimura angrier.
"What the hell would you know about my grip being weak, Sanada? It's not like you've given a shit about it in seven years."
"Back to that, are we? Well then Yukimura, I know because unlike you, I pay attention." Sanada sits up and switches on the light. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but being temporarily blinded is better than arguing in the dark. "And believe me when I say I know when something's wrong with you before you do."
"You can't possibly know me better than I know myself and thinking you do just goes to prove that you don't know anything."
"I don't know why you even bothered," Sanada says. "Did you really think coming into my room in the middle of the night and wrapping your arms around me was going to make everything perfect?"
Yukimura's eyes widen. He swallows and looks anywhere but at Sanada. Yanagi had told him this was a fool's errand and the likelihood for things to be good again was incredibly low. Lower than Yukimura's odds for survival when he got sick a third time, which were really quite low and if Sanada had known...
"No, I didn't." The words finally form. "I did think that you would have softened a bit over time. I can't decide if I'm glad you haven't or not."
"You would be disappointed if I had."
Sanada's gaze is unwavering and for once, Yukimura doesn't feel like he can order his former fukubuchou to do anything for him.
"I would be, yes," he says, reaching across the gap between them and gripping Sanada's hand. It's weak and Sanada could shake it off with barely a twitch. Kind of like when he was thirteen right before he collapsed the first time...
Sanada looks down at the gesture then back up at Yukimura.
"I'm not trying anything. I promise," he whispers and he hates himself a little for letting things between them get this bad and for feeling useless.
"I could snap you like a twig," is all Sanada says then jerks his hand away.
Yukimura sighs, giving Sanada a wan smile. "I bet you would enjoy that. Putting me out of my misery."
"You brought this upon yourself."
"Did I ask to get sick, Genichirou? Do you really think I wanted to get saved only to keep relapsing? Tell me, exactly, what part of that I brought on myself. I didn't ask my body to betray me."
"You invited me to, though."
Yukimura pulls his hand back and wraps his arms around himself. "I thought you would be better off. I didn't expect to--"
"Better off?! What--"
Yukimura is quite positive that if Sanada had anything inanimate to destroy within arms' reach, he would. Instead, he watches Sanada ball his hands into fists, knuckles turning white, breathing deep to calm himself down. He's seen it so often that he half wonders where all that rage goes.
"You should go," Sanada finally mutters, leaving the bed. He grabs Yukimura's things and deposits them outside the door. "Just get the fuck out. I have a match tomorrow and I need to attempt to get some sleep. Don't bother coming back in. I'll do it all over again."
--
Sanada's family home is empty when he arrives. He wasn't expecting a welcoming party anyway; he came home specifically because he knew they would be in Fukuoka on vacation.
There is something blissful about the peace and quiet of the house and as he makes his way to his room, he can't help but feel some of the stress just fall from his shoulders. His room is dark and slightly cold when he slides the door open, but he frowns when he spots a familiar shade of blue fanned out over his pillow and mounds of blankets.
"Why do you always pull every damn blanket into my room?" Sanada mutters, pulling away layer after layer until Yukimura appears, curled in on himself. He doesn't have the energy to ask why Yukimura is there or what he expects to accomplish. Instead, he pushes the man over and climbs into bed, pulling just one of the blankets over the both of them.
When Sanada wakes, he notes two things. One, Yukimura has attached himself to his side and two, it's the best sleep he's had in years. He shifts slightly and slides his arm underneath Yukimura's head to stop the cramp forming in his shoulder. The action causes Yukimura to press closer. He yawns and falls back asleep.
Yukimura feels three things: cold, movement, warmth. He grabs onto the last like his life depends on it, snaking his arms and curling his legs around the heat source. Anything to prevent it from going away. In his dream, he's playing tennis and losing every point, game, set, match to Sanada, but for once, he's perfectly fine with not winning.
It's near three PM when they wake up. Yukimura has about a billion thoughts running through his head.
"Hi," is all he can manage to say before he moves and covers Sanada's mouth with his own. It's not quite an apology and Sanada wouldn't accept it as one anyway, but with his brain and heart a mess, this is all he has. Yukimura half expects Sanada to throw him to the ground and wipe his mouth in disgust, so he relents and pulls away.
"Why did you stop?"
Yukimura merely blinks at him, confused. The question is loaded, in his opinion. It could mean any number of things. Why did you stop kissing me or, the one that constantly runs through his head, why did you stop believing in me?
"I don't know." It answers both, really, but not satisfactorily. "...I was afraid. I thought you would be better off. How was I supposed to know it would mess everything up so irreversibly?"
Sanada doesn't answer him. Yukimura sighs and gets up, walking towards the door.
"I'm sorry, Genichirou, but at least I'm trying," he says quietly before leaving.
--
Yukimura is missing the French Open. The last round of medicine had set his progress back months and dropping a set to Kirihara had sent a shock through his system which forced Sanada to order him to go home. It has been the only time Yukimura never argued back and did what he was told.
"At least the nurses were kind enough to let you have the windows open."
Yukimura turns to the voice and about rips out his IV before realizing that one, he didn't really like the sight of his own blood and two, he would probably collapse onto the floor.
Sanada slides the door closed behind him and sets down a bouquet of flowers on the table next to the bed.
"Idiot. Skipping the French for me."
"I like that you assume I did it for you." Sanada grabs a chair and sits down. "Doctor's orders to not play. Yagyuu can be a bastard when he wants to be."
"How bad this time?"
"Tore my ACL again and there's a tear in my MCL. Yagyuu said it was idiotic for me to even be walking without assistance right before my surgery was to take place. I told him I had to make a visit first."
"Idiot." Yukimura scratches at the tape on his hand. "Maybe I can ask for us to share a room. They adore me."
"You can talk Yagyuu about it."
"Like he could say no to his buchou."
"Former buchou."
"Don't test me, Genichirou. I can at least poke at you with my IV pole."
Sanada smiles. "I cower in fear."
"Jackass."
"Love you too."
Yukimura feels his heart jump into his throat. Yanagi would tell him to stop being so obvious, but he can't quite help it. Sanada is smiling and saying he loves him. Joking or not, Yukimura doesn't care.
He decides not to ask for clarification. It makes him happy to think they've made some kind of progress. Even if it's just this.
"Excuse me," Yagyuu interjects. "Unfortunately, I need to end your rendezvous. Sanada-kun is needed for pre-op."
"It would be nice of you to let him recover here."
The corners of Yagyuu's mouth turn down slightly.
"This isn't the ward for orthopedics, Yukimura-kun. I'm going to have to refuse your request. You'll be able to visit starting tomorrow morning depending on how the surgery goes." He turns to Sanada. "I'll give you a moment alone before we need to go. I have a wheelchair prepared. I don't approve of you walking unassisted."
Sanada stands after Yagyuu leaves. Now that Yukimura is looking, he notices he's resting his weight on the opposite knee. That can't be good.
"I hope it goes well."
"Yagyuu did pretty well last time, so I think everything will be fine." Sanada walks towards the door, pauses, and turns around. "Seiichi?"
"Hmm?"
"...I'm trying too."
Yukimura straightens. That sentence alone makes him hopeful. "And?"
"It's not working." Sanada bows his head and slides the door closed behind him.
--
Sanada steps onto what remains of the Rikkai tennis courts. Construction equipment litters the back six due to a generous, anonymous donation requesting them to be rebuilt. The ones that remain have seen their fair share of abuse. The posts are no longer a bright green, but dim and cracked due to the elements. The referee's chair is splintered and worn. He runs his hand over the dome and brushes off the dust against his pants.
"I didn't think you'd come."
He looks up to see Yukimura leaning against the gate that leads up the clubhouse.
"Renji said it was a team reunion. I should have known it was a ruse."
"He wasn't lying, but it seems today was bad for everyone but us. I had nothing to do with that."
Yukimura pushes himself away from the gate and walks over to Sanada. "You don't have to stay. I was hoping we could all play one last time before it gets torn up for the new ones."
"Hn."
It has been awhile since they've been in the same vicinity, not after the hospital anyway. Yukimura thinks it's kind of nice, but he knows that it won't last long. Especially after their last conversation despite it starting out so well.
"...Neither of us brought our equipment."
"That is incredibly idiotic for someone who wanted to play."
Yukimura shrugs, testing the waters by bumping his hip gently against Sanada's. "Did you know my clubhouse key still works?"
"You never gave it back." It isn't a question.
"Kind of. I made a spare. They have the original." Yukimura leans forward and turns to look up at Sanada. "There might be equipment inside. I just wanted to test my key. Do you want to check?"
"That's unnecessary. I can't play even if I wanted to."
"Oh. ...Right." Yukimura glances at the large contraption that is helping keep Sanada's knee in place while he does everyday activities. "I guess I didn't think that through."
"No, you didn't."
"If it makes you feel any better, I shouldn't play right now either," Yukimura says. "My grip is apparently, and I quote, too sporadic for me to play against others safely, end quote."
"It's not your grip that's the problem," Sanada says easily. "Your balance is off and that's affecting everything else."
Yukimura steps in front of Sanada and grins. "Are you a doctor now? Seems kind of strange that you'd suggest something my team hasn't even thought of."
"Of course you have a team."
The comment sounds lighthearted to Yukimura so he moves a bit closer. "Did you expect anything less?"
"Depends on what number this is. You went through... how many was it?"
"I lost count after seven. I can be particular."
Sanada merely grunts and makes his way towards the entrance.
"Do you want to know what I think?" Yukimura asks loudly, when Sanada is at the gate. "We crashed the year we went pro. I started to get erratic and you... I manipulated you to break me, which you did so astoundingly well. So good, in fact, that instead of it fixing me like I thought it would, it destroyed us both and when you realized what I had made you do--"
"Is that your way of apologizing?" Sanada turns around. Even from this distance, Yukimura can't mistake the squaring of Sanada's shoulders.
"No. That's not an apology. Just a theory. I've been thinking about it since the night you kicked me out in London and even more after you visited me. I... I fucked us up."
"I'm glad you admit it."
Yukimura swallows and starts walking towards Sanada. "I know what I did was wrong. You know I've been trying to fix it. I'm still trying."
"You really think you can? Because when I tried, it didn't work."
"It would be helpful if you weren't so stubborn."
Sanada glares as Yukimura stops right in front of him. "I shouldn't have to change just because you messed up."
"You could at least try to forgive me."
"I did that a long time ago," Sanada admits. "That doesn't mean I can forget."
Author: monarchist
Recipient: sky_blue44
Rating: PG
Warnings: N/A
Summary: Yukimura made a decision, leaving destruction in his wake. Realizing his error, he tries to make amends.
Notes: Sanada/Yukimura
Yukimura shifts in the overly large bed. He stretches out and pulls back quickly. The other side is too cold for comfort. He sighs and twists the duvet tighter around him.
His phone goes off at 8:14 AM. He lets it go to voicemail. Whoever it is calls again at 8:17, 8:19, and 8:25 before Yukimura groans and sits up in bed cursing himself for not putting the damn thing on vibrate.
He punches a couple of buttons and the phone starts ringing on the other side.
"Good morning, Seiichi. Four times is a new record."
Yukimura yawns. "You're just lucky I was half awake when you started calling."
"At least you called back. Genichirou still hasn't returned any of my messages."
Yukimura bites his tongue. It's too early to be mean to Yanagi, even if he really wants to be. "To be fair, he's ignored mine too."
Yanagi hums. "Anyway, due to... current circumstances I've revised your entry for the next tournament. Unfortunately, you'll be in the qualifying draws, but--"
"I figured as much."
"Unless you'd rather skip and come home. I noticed a five percent decrease in grip and an eight-point-three in stance."
"...oh." Yukimura looks at his hands then at the empty side of the bed. "No, I'm staying. I'll fix it."
"Seiichi..."
"I'll be fine, Renji. It's nothing I can't handle. Promise."
"Of course. Your match today is at eleven, so I recommend preparing now."
"Yes sir," Yukimura says with a slight laugh. "Talk to you later."
"Have a good match."
The line goes dead. Yukimura falls back into bed.
--
Sanada stares up at the ceiling. The sheets are pooled in a heap at the foot of the bed. Even now, he's burning up and he half wonders if he's getting sick.
Doubtful, says the voice in his head.
His phone lights up on the nightstand next to the bed, but he ignores it, turning away from the buzzing. He attempts to go back to sleep and ends up watching the clock change from one minute to the next.
"Hey fukubuchou, you wanna hit some balls?" Kirihara calls through the door.
Sanada blinks and looks at the clock. It reads 10:28 AM. He honestly can't remember the last time he stayed in bed past six thirty.
"Give me five minutes."
"Can you at least let me in? It's weird standing out here yelling at a door."
Sanada rolls his eyes and gets out of bed, padding to the door. He opens it up just enough that Kirihara can get in then goes to the bathroom.
"I don't have a match today. Do you?"
"You wouldn't be in my hotel room if you or I did."
"Oh." Kirihara sits on the bed and kicks his feet against it. "Buchou won."
"Good for him."
"Are you two still not talking?"
Sanada leaves the bathroom and rifles through his suitcase. "I don't know where you got that idea from. We're playing different tournaments. That doesn't mean we aren't talking."
"Yanagi-senpai says it does."
"Occasionally Yanagi can be wrong."
While Sanada is in the bathroom, his phone goes off again. Kirihara grabs and opens it. "You have a new voicemail from Yanagi-senpai and did you know you have twenty missed calls from him and almost twice that from buchou?"
"What the hell are you doing?" Sanada asks sharply, leaving the bathroom in a rush and snatching the phone from Kirihara's hands, snapping it closed. He sets it back down on the nightstand then sits on the bed. "Just go use the ball machine. I don't want to put up with you today."
Kirihara frowns and gets up. "Fine. Be that way. It's not like it matters. I'm still going to crush you tomorrow, practice or not."
Sanada doesn't protest. Lack of proper sleep is going to do him in, not Kirihara. When the door clicks, he lies back down on the bed and prays for sleep to come.
--
"It's quite sad, really," Yukimura tells the front desk clerk. "The person I'm staying with gave me the other one when I arrived, but now I've seem to have misplaced it."
"How unfortunate. What's your room number?"
Yukimura checks his phone for the text that Yanagi had sent him that morning. "Thirty-seven eighteen."
"Thank you, sir."
He watches her type in the information and grab a blank room card which she programs before handing it over.
"Here you go. Try not to lose it again, okay?" She smiles at her joke.
"I'll try my best," Yukimura says, tucking the key into his pocket. "Thank you so much."
Yukimura adjusts his bag and heads towards the elevators. He doesn't remember which floor the room is on, but he has time to check. After two dings, the doors open. He reads the sign, but doesn't step out. This pattern repeats thirteen times. On the sixteenth floor, he sees thirty-seven hundred one to thirty-seven fifty. Jackpot.
A little green light signifies his successful entry into Sanada's room. Yukimura deigns to stay quiet, lest he get thrown across the room via judo throw. Plus, it's late and he knows Sanada is probably asleep. Hopefully.
He closes the door softly behind him and unloads his bags next to a chair. It takes a fair bit of feeling around before he finds the bed and makes sure one side of it is empty. Yukimura carefully lies down and presses himself against Sanada's back.
"How did you get in?"
Yukimura frowns. Sanada doesn't even sound tired. "Key, of course. Why are you awake? It's almost midnight," he whispers.
"Can't sleep." Sanada doesn't question Yukimura's getting a key and effectively breaking into his room.
"If you had blankets on the bed, that might help." Yukimura moves to find them, but is stopped by Sanada's arm.
"It's too damn hot if I keep them on the bed."
"Oh."
"Regardless, don't you have your own room?"
"Not exactly. It got cancelled."
Sanada lets out a grunt. "How convenient."
Yukimura shifts, half sitting up. He braces himself on the bed with one hand and latches onto Sanada's hip with the other. "Computer error. It was completely out of my hands. At least this way you can't ignore me."
"Do you really want to test that theory?"
"No, but I really don't like it and I wish you would stop."
"I'm not the one that started it."
"You could be the mature one and end it."
"I'm always the mature one," Sanada says gruffly and turns sharply, causing Yukimura to fall back onto the bed. "Besides, you shouldn't be here. I'm quite sure you are needed back home for a number of tests and new medication."
"Just because my grip is a bit weak doesn't mean I need to go home. Nothing is wrong with me."
Sanada laughs. It sounds hollow and derisive and makes Yukimura angrier.
"What the hell would you know about my grip being weak, Sanada? It's not like you've given a shit about it in seven years."
"Back to that, are we? Well then Yukimura, I know because unlike you, I pay attention." Sanada sits up and switches on the light. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust, but being temporarily blinded is better than arguing in the dark. "And believe me when I say I know when something's wrong with you before you do."
"You can't possibly know me better than I know myself and thinking you do just goes to prove that you don't know anything."
"I don't know why you even bothered," Sanada says. "Did you really think coming into my room in the middle of the night and wrapping your arms around me was going to make everything perfect?"
Yukimura's eyes widen. He swallows and looks anywhere but at Sanada. Yanagi had told him this was a fool's errand and the likelihood for things to be good again was incredibly low. Lower than Yukimura's odds for survival when he got sick a third time, which were really quite low and if Sanada had known...
"No, I didn't." The words finally form. "I did think that you would have softened a bit over time. I can't decide if I'm glad you haven't or not."
"You would be disappointed if I had."
Sanada's gaze is unwavering and for once, Yukimura doesn't feel like he can order his former fukubuchou to do anything for him.
"I would be, yes," he says, reaching across the gap between them and gripping Sanada's hand. It's weak and Sanada could shake it off with barely a twitch. Kind of like when he was thirteen right before he collapsed the first time...
Sanada looks down at the gesture then back up at Yukimura.
"I'm not trying anything. I promise," he whispers and he hates himself a little for letting things between them get this bad and for feeling useless.
"I could snap you like a twig," is all Sanada says then jerks his hand away.
Yukimura sighs, giving Sanada a wan smile. "I bet you would enjoy that. Putting me out of my misery."
"You brought this upon yourself."
"Did I ask to get sick, Genichirou? Do you really think I wanted to get saved only to keep relapsing? Tell me, exactly, what part of that I brought on myself. I didn't ask my body to betray me."
"You invited me to, though."
Yukimura pulls his hand back and wraps his arms around himself. "I thought you would be better off. I didn't expect to--"
"Better off?! What--"
Yukimura is quite positive that if Sanada had anything inanimate to destroy within arms' reach, he would. Instead, he watches Sanada ball his hands into fists, knuckles turning white, breathing deep to calm himself down. He's seen it so often that he half wonders where all that rage goes.
"You should go," Sanada finally mutters, leaving the bed. He grabs Yukimura's things and deposits them outside the door. "Just get the fuck out. I have a match tomorrow and I need to attempt to get some sleep. Don't bother coming back in. I'll do it all over again."
--
Sanada's family home is empty when he arrives. He wasn't expecting a welcoming party anyway; he came home specifically because he knew they would be in Fukuoka on vacation.
There is something blissful about the peace and quiet of the house and as he makes his way to his room, he can't help but feel some of the stress just fall from his shoulders. His room is dark and slightly cold when he slides the door open, but he frowns when he spots a familiar shade of blue fanned out over his pillow and mounds of blankets.
"Why do you always pull every damn blanket into my room?" Sanada mutters, pulling away layer after layer until Yukimura appears, curled in on himself. He doesn't have the energy to ask why Yukimura is there or what he expects to accomplish. Instead, he pushes the man over and climbs into bed, pulling just one of the blankets over the both of them.
When Sanada wakes, he notes two things. One, Yukimura has attached himself to his side and two, it's the best sleep he's had in years. He shifts slightly and slides his arm underneath Yukimura's head to stop the cramp forming in his shoulder. The action causes Yukimura to press closer. He yawns and falls back asleep.
Yukimura feels three things: cold, movement, warmth. He grabs onto the last like his life depends on it, snaking his arms and curling his legs around the heat source. Anything to prevent it from going away. In his dream, he's playing tennis and losing every point, game, set, match to Sanada, but for once, he's perfectly fine with not winning.
It's near three PM when they wake up. Yukimura has about a billion thoughts running through his head.
"Hi," is all he can manage to say before he moves and covers Sanada's mouth with his own. It's not quite an apology and Sanada wouldn't accept it as one anyway, but with his brain and heart a mess, this is all he has. Yukimura half expects Sanada to throw him to the ground and wipe his mouth in disgust, so he relents and pulls away.
"Why did you stop?"
Yukimura merely blinks at him, confused. The question is loaded, in his opinion. It could mean any number of things. Why did you stop kissing me or, the one that constantly runs through his head, why did you stop believing in me?
"I don't know." It answers both, really, but not satisfactorily. "...I was afraid. I thought you would be better off. How was I supposed to know it would mess everything up so irreversibly?"
Sanada doesn't answer him. Yukimura sighs and gets up, walking towards the door.
"I'm sorry, Genichirou, but at least I'm trying," he says quietly before leaving.
--
Yukimura is missing the French Open. The last round of medicine had set his progress back months and dropping a set to Kirihara had sent a shock through his system which forced Sanada to order him to go home. It has been the only time Yukimura never argued back and did what he was told.
"At least the nurses were kind enough to let you have the windows open."
Yukimura turns to the voice and about rips out his IV before realizing that one, he didn't really like the sight of his own blood and two, he would probably collapse onto the floor.
Sanada slides the door closed behind him and sets down a bouquet of flowers on the table next to the bed.
"Idiot. Skipping the French for me."
"I like that you assume I did it for you." Sanada grabs a chair and sits down. "Doctor's orders to not play. Yagyuu can be a bastard when he wants to be."
"How bad this time?"
"Tore my ACL again and there's a tear in my MCL. Yagyuu said it was idiotic for me to even be walking without assistance right before my surgery was to take place. I told him I had to make a visit first."
"Idiot." Yukimura scratches at the tape on his hand. "Maybe I can ask for us to share a room. They adore me."
"You can talk Yagyuu about it."
"Like he could say no to his buchou."
"Former buchou."
"Don't test me, Genichirou. I can at least poke at you with my IV pole."
Sanada smiles. "I cower in fear."
"Jackass."
"Love you too."
Yukimura feels his heart jump into his throat. Yanagi would tell him to stop being so obvious, but he can't quite help it. Sanada is smiling and saying he loves him. Joking or not, Yukimura doesn't care.
He decides not to ask for clarification. It makes him happy to think they've made some kind of progress. Even if it's just this.
"Excuse me," Yagyuu interjects. "Unfortunately, I need to end your rendezvous. Sanada-kun is needed for pre-op."
"It would be nice of you to let him recover here."
The corners of Yagyuu's mouth turn down slightly.
"This isn't the ward for orthopedics, Yukimura-kun. I'm going to have to refuse your request. You'll be able to visit starting tomorrow morning depending on how the surgery goes." He turns to Sanada. "I'll give you a moment alone before we need to go. I have a wheelchair prepared. I don't approve of you walking unassisted."
Sanada stands after Yagyuu leaves. Now that Yukimura is looking, he notices he's resting his weight on the opposite knee. That can't be good.
"I hope it goes well."
"Yagyuu did pretty well last time, so I think everything will be fine." Sanada walks towards the door, pauses, and turns around. "Seiichi?"
"Hmm?"
"...I'm trying too."
Yukimura straightens. That sentence alone makes him hopeful. "And?"
"It's not working." Sanada bows his head and slides the door closed behind him.
--
Sanada steps onto what remains of the Rikkai tennis courts. Construction equipment litters the back six due to a generous, anonymous donation requesting them to be rebuilt. The ones that remain have seen their fair share of abuse. The posts are no longer a bright green, but dim and cracked due to the elements. The referee's chair is splintered and worn. He runs his hand over the dome and brushes off the dust against his pants.
"I didn't think you'd come."
He looks up to see Yukimura leaning against the gate that leads up the clubhouse.
"Renji said it was a team reunion. I should have known it was a ruse."
"He wasn't lying, but it seems today was bad for everyone but us. I had nothing to do with that."
Yukimura pushes himself away from the gate and walks over to Sanada. "You don't have to stay. I was hoping we could all play one last time before it gets torn up for the new ones."
"Hn."
It has been awhile since they've been in the same vicinity, not after the hospital anyway. Yukimura thinks it's kind of nice, but he knows that it won't last long. Especially after their last conversation despite it starting out so well.
"...Neither of us brought our equipment."
"That is incredibly idiotic for someone who wanted to play."
Yukimura shrugs, testing the waters by bumping his hip gently against Sanada's. "Did you know my clubhouse key still works?"
"You never gave it back." It isn't a question.
"Kind of. I made a spare. They have the original." Yukimura leans forward and turns to look up at Sanada. "There might be equipment inside. I just wanted to test my key. Do you want to check?"
"That's unnecessary. I can't play even if I wanted to."
"Oh. ...Right." Yukimura glances at the large contraption that is helping keep Sanada's knee in place while he does everyday activities. "I guess I didn't think that through."
"No, you didn't."
"If it makes you feel any better, I shouldn't play right now either," Yukimura says. "My grip is apparently, and I quote, too sporadic for me to play against others safely, end quote."
"It's not your grip that's the problem," Sanada says easily. "Your balance is off and that's affecting everything else."
Yukimura steps in front of Sanada and grins. "Are you a doctor now? Seems kind of strange that you'd suggest something my team hasn't even thought of."
"Of course you have a team."
The comment sounds lighthearted to Yukimura so he moves a bit closer. "Did you expect anything less?"
"Depends on what number this is. You went through... how many was it?"
"I lost count after seven. I can be particular."
Sanada merely grunts and makes his way towards the entrance.
"Do you want to know what I think?" Yukimura asks loudly, when Sanada is at the gate. "We crashed the year we went pro. I started to get erratic and you... I manipulated you to break me, which you did so astoundingly well. So good, in fact, that instead of it fixing me like I thought it would, it destroyed us both and when you realized what I had made you do--"
"Is that your way of apologizing?" Sanada turns around. Even from this distance, Yukimura can't mistake the squaring of Sanada's shoulders.
"No. That's not an apology. Just a theory. I've been thinking about it since the night you kicked me out in London and even more after you visited me. I... I fucked us up."
"I'm glad you admit it."
Yukimura swallows and starts walking towards Sanada. "I know what I did was wrong. You know I've been trying to fix it. I'm still trying."
"You really think you can? Because when I tried, it didn't work."
"It would be helpful if you weren't so stubborn."
Sanada glares as Yukimura stops right in front of him. "I shouldn't have to change just because you messed up."
"You could at least try to forgive me."
"I did that a long time ago," Sanada admits. "That doesn't mean I can forget."