Seigaku General (for Arithion)
I made some mistakes with the formatting in the fic I posted last night. Some line and section breaks were missing, which made it confusing to read. It should hopefully be all correct now... if you were reading and got confused at some point, it's my fault and it should make a lot more sense now!
For: arithion
Title: Seigaku General
Pairing/characters: Tezuka/Fuji, Sanada/Yukimura, implied Oshitari/Atobe
Rating: PG, maybe
Warning (if any): Crack. Pure AU cheese on crack(ers). Melodrama at its finest. It's entirely possible that there are (lots of) badfic!OOC moments.
Summary: Sports manga is a soap opera for boys. This time, it's just a soap opera.
Notes (if any): Bad!fic is bad. But fun. I know this /may/ not quite be what you had in mind, but please enjoy it! ♥
Dr. Inui Sadaharu cleared his throat and made a couple of chicken-scratched notes on the chart in front of him. He clicked the ballpoint and stuck it back in the front pocket of his lab coat, taking a seat on the stool across from his patient. This was the hardest part of his job by far, breaking this sort of news, especially to one so beautiful and in the prime of life. Those dewy eyes, that winning smile, the thin hands nervously twisting the handkerchief....how could one remain distant and stoic in the face of such tragic bravery? He reminded himself that, alas, at the end of the day it was just a job, and that only once the weight of diagnosis had been delivered could they, together, focus on the path of healing. "Yukimura-san?" he began, pushing his glasses back into place.
"Yes, Doctor?" Yukimura Seiichi put on his strongest face, ready for whatever the eccentric physician had to say. Something--anything--would be preferable to the past several months of not knowing, only being aware that his health was slipping away from him.
The doctor drew a deep breath. "We've run every test known to man and a few I invented on the fly, but they have all come back with the same results. Yukimura-san, I'm very sorry, but it seems certain that you have....a mystery soap opera disease."
"Oh no." Not a mystery soap opera disease! Anything but that! Yukimura blanched, paling almost enough to bring on one of his bizarre fainting spells, which everyone knew were one of the primary symptoms of a mystery soap opera disease. "...what will I tell Sanada? He's going to be so worried. This is no enemy of straw he can battle into submission."
"Pardon?"
"Oh, nevermind. I think it's the disease talking." Yukimura managed a wan smile for the doctor. "All right, so it's a mystery soap opera disease. That's better than a brain tumor, I think. Will...will I ever be able to play tennis again?"
Dr. Inui chewed his lower lip in thought. "I can't answer that yet. Miraculous recoveries have indeed been obtained from mystery soap opera diseases, things that defy odds and science altogether. If you were to ask if you'd ever walk again, then I could allude to months and months of grueling physical therapy and untold emotional pain before yes, you'd be able to take your first halting steps into the arms of your beloved...?"
"Sanada."
"Sanada. But...." He spread his hands wide. "With a mystery soap opera disease, I cannot begin to guess the prognosis. Especially with sweeps around the corner and the writers' strike..."
"I see. I...think I need a wheelchair, then," Yukimura said, and fainted.
"Oh, what a cruel fate is mystery soap opera disease," Dr. Inui muttered, collecting the crumpled form of his patient and ringing the nurse for a wheelchair. It was just another day at Seigaku General Hospital.
~*~
"Buchou!"
Tezuka Kunimitsu sighed to himself, straightening his tie and turning to his classmate and fellow intern at Seigaku General. "Kawamura, it's not necessary to keep calling me that. I'm not captain of anything anymore."
"Sorry, sorry." The affable Kawamura rubbed the back of his head with one hand. "Old habit and all. You were captain of just everything, though: tennis team, swim team, fencing team, handicrafts club...."
"Kawamura!" The first rule of handicrafts club was - you do not talk about handicrafts club.
"Sorry, sorry!" Apology was second nature to Kawamura. "Which area do you have rounds in this morning?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Obstetrics, I believe." Tezuka made a needless glance down at his chart, for he was never wrong.
"Ah. That's Fujiko's duty station." There was a pregnant pause, likely because the subject was obstetrics. "Bu-...I mean, Tezuka-san, you /have/ met Fujiko, haven't you?"
"I don't believe so. This is my first rotation in obstetrics. Why do you ask?" Fujiko....surely Kawamura wasn't trying to set him up on a date with a woman? The second rule of handicrafts club was - you do not talk about the captain's sexual orientation...even several years after high school.
"Oh, no reason, no reason." Kawamura knew /that/ look, the one that began with 'the [insert number here] rule of handicrafts club'. "Fujiko is one of the head nurses on that floor. If you haven't been in obstetrics, it makes sense that you haven't met yet. But you should also watch out for Oshitari."
"Oshitari?" Was there anyone in this hospital that Kawamura didn't know?
"Both he and Fujiko are considered to be nursing geniuses, but that causes them to be in conflict," Kawamura explained. "The last time they got into it, it's said the whole maternity ward was covered in teddy bears...."
Tezuka blinked, wondering in what sort of Bizarro World he had found himself. Teddy bear fights? In a hospital? "They try that on my watch and..."
"...it'll be 100 laps," Kawamura said in unison with Tezuka, giving an embarrassed chuckle. Tezuka's right eyebrow lowered precisely 2.5mm, the equivalent of a scowl, and he stormed out of the intern lounge, punching the elevator button for the sixth floor.
Fujiko. Whoever this Fujiko was, she was going to learn some discipline, learn the real reason a hospital existed. It wasn't for her amusement, it was to help sick people. Nothing else mattered! Sick people were the only motivation. He glared at the elevator doors, willing them to open. As his floor had been reached, the doors were only too happy to comply, freeing him to storm down the corridor towards the nurses' station.
"You must be Tezuka," a voice said, piercing through his haze of dark annoyance. Tezuka turned...and looked straight into beauty, joy, and at least thirty-seven more descriptive words.
The third rule of handicrafts club was - the reason you do not talk about the captain's sexual orientation is because he is pink triangles and rainbows gay...in a quiet, subdued, understated sort of way.
"Um...hello? Tezuka...san?" The nurse--Fujiko--waved his hand in front of Tezuka's thunderstruck face.
"....why do birds suddenly appear...every time you are near?" Tezuka murmured.
"Oh, those. Sorry, I sometimes forget when I have them on. Tsubame gaeshi, deactivate." The birds whisked out of existence--or at least out of sight. "Are you all right? You seemed a bit out of it."
"Fine, fine." Tezuka adjusted his tie again, wondering if it would be untoward to kiss Kawamura in thanks later. "My apologies, Nurse...?"
"Fuji. Fuji Syuusuke. I'm in charge of day shift nursing on this floor." The vision of loveliness was clad in simple purple (Tezuka's favorite color!) scrubs with Happy Bunny on them that said 'Hi loser'. "This is your first time here?"
Tezuka nodded. "My previous rotations have been in pediatrics, internal medicine, and the cardio cath lab."
"Then I'll be sure not to bore you with repetition. Obviously, this being obstetrics, all of our patients are female. Well, there was that one...but audience reaction to him was terrible, and he was written out with cervical cancer..."
"What?"
"Mm, nothing. No mpreg here," Fuji said brightly, and Tezuka felt a little weak inside. "Insurance being what it is, unless there are complications, most of our patients are released within 48 hours, sometimes sooner." He gestured down the hallway, indicating Tezuka should walk with him. "When this hospital was built, it was common practice for the newborn infants to all be housed in a single nursery, but we bunk them in the mother's room now. So, we've turned what was once the main nursery into a game room. Do you play pool?"
Tezuka felt himself turn blue, sounds of cracking and breaking glass echoing in his ears. His earlier righteous indignation at a less-than-100% serious attitude towards hospital affairs surged again, quieting the happy rush below his belt. "I do not," he lied, "especially not at the hospital."
"Oh." Fuji's face closed up before him, but Tezuka's sense of propriety would not be moved. "I see. Well, shall we continue then?"
"Fuji," a new voice purred. Beside Tezuka, Fuji's posture sharpened. "Who have we here?"
"An intern on first floor rotation." A moment of electricity seemed to crackle between Fuji and the other man, a taller fellow wearing glasses and a self-important smirk. Like Fuji, he too was clad in scrubs, navy ones with tiny pink octopi on them. "Tezuka-san, this is Oshitari Yuushi, the nurse in charge of night shift. What he's doing here during daylight hours I couldn't guess. Everyone seems to think he's a vampire."
"Oh, Fuji, you're so funny." Oshitari leaned against a doorway, giving Tezuka a frank, head-to-toe appraisal. "I'm no bloodsucker, not when there's a whole refrigerator full of the stuff a few floors down."
"You'll have to forgive him, he suffers from a lack of manners. Common on night shift, I'm told." Fuji's expression was still closed to Tezuka, but Tezuka noticed the nurse had taken a subtle step between him and Oshitari. "Aren't you due in the director's office? Sponge bath time?"
Oshitari's eyes narrowed, then he gave a deep, sarcastic chuckle. "Touché, mon ami. Tezuka-kun, pleasure to meet you." He nodded and strolled off down the hall.
"Sponge bath?" Tezuka asked once the other nurse was out of earshot. "In the director's office? Surely that can't be a healthy place or a controlled environment in which to keep a patient...?"
Fuji paused, frozen like a photograph. "You'll learn," he said at last, treating Tezuka to a brief smile, one that almost had the straight-laced intern ready to rack up his balls in the nursery-turned-pool-hall. Almost. "Let's keep going. We'll be meeting patients next."
Fuji's cellphone jingled with an incoming text message, and while Tezuka was greeting a new mother, Fuji stepped to one side and checked the message. It was, unsurprisingly, from Oshitari. Dibs on the new intern, it read.
Dibs, huh...? Fuji glanced over at Tezuka, watching him interact with the patient and her newborn son. The baby gurgled and the corners of Tezuka's mouth turned up ever so slightly.
In the director's office, Oshitari's phone beeped, which was handed to him by an elegant, manicured hand. The nurse put down the sponge and accepted the phone with a grinning thanks.
...I don't think so.
"Ah..." Oshitari chuckled, putting the phone away, "it seems like the game is afoot."
~*~
He was certain that repeatedly typing 'mystery soap opera disease' was a one-way ticket to carpal tunnel, but this was an important case and everything had to be fully documented. Dr. Inui sighed as he finished transcribing his notes into the computer. He really needed to get another assistant, but the hospital budget was strapped paying legal fees for cases involving his last three assistants. The director had told him in no uncertain terms that for the foreseeable future, he'd be in charge of his own transcribing...and he was banned from the hospital cafeteria for life. That was another four lawsuits settled and one more still on the books.
"You look like you could use some nourishment, Sadaharu." A tall figure leaned into the room, paper sack crinkling from the deli two streets over. "If you've got a spare chair, lunch is on me."
"Renji!" Dr. Inui pushed back from the computer. "Come in, please. When I saw Yukimura-san on my patient roster, I knew you couldn't be far behind." He reached and swept a few stacks of paperwork out of the way, providing a makeshift lunchtable.
"Yes. Genichirou doesn't handle bad news well." Yanagi Renji unloaded soups, sandwiches, and a single cookie, cut in half, from his bag. "It is bad news, isn't it?"
"Legally, I'm not permitted to disclose anything to you, but I don't think the law applies to instances of one's childhood friend." Inui didn't wait for Renji to encourage or discourage him. "It's not good, as I'm sure you've suspected. In fact, I can conclusively say with little margin for error that it is a mystery soap opera disease."
"....damn. When was the last time someone survived that?"
"Two in the past three years, but one was helped by a write-in campaign. It's all in the hands of the fans now."
"...then we'll have to hope Seiichi's popularity motivates them to great things on his behalf." Renji popped open a can of cold coffee, pouring half in each of two cups Inui handed over. "I just dropped Genichirou at the elevator, he should be making his way up to Seiichi's room." He sorted the sandwiches, opened the soups and placed a spoon beside each one. "I see the director isn't budging on getting you another assistant..."
"No." Inui sounded positively glum, even around a mouthful of sandwich.
"...I may have a solution in mind. But I'll save that for over dessert."
"Sadist."
"You're too kind, Sadaharu."
~*~
Sanada hated hospitals. Hospitals had no tangible enemy, no one at which to strike and exact vengeance. No one to reason with, if striking did not do the job. Hospitals, and his presence now in this particular one, were an ugly reminder of one thing and one thing alone: his failure.
~~the shot blurs and fades out, refocusing on a black and white scene from an episode years ago~~
Failure.
The law of Rikkaidai is: we do not lose.
Yet here Sanada Genichirou is, totally defeated at the hands of a cocky kid, a kid pronouncing that he had 'much more to work on'.
Time passes, as time always does, and this kid goes on to a professional career, rivaling only that of Sanada's most important person, Yukimura Seiichi. In the professional ranks, it is Yukimura who hands this upstart his defeat...a defeat that has Echizen Ryoma pursuing Yukimura with a fervor bordering on fanaticism.
Surely, it is that pursuit which has landed Yukimura here, now...
~~the black and white shot blurs out, refocusing back on Sanada, in the present, standing before Yukimura's hospital room~~
Sanada slid the family stone from his pocket, clasping it between both hands, thumbs stroking over the smooth surface. "I will protect you, Seiichi," he whispered, replacing the stone and knocking on the door. A faint "Come in" beckoned him, and determined not to hesitate again, Sanada opened the door.
"Genichirou." Yukimura hadn't turned around from where he sat near the window, but the certainty in his voice was welcome. "I'm glad you're here."
"Where else would I be?" The words were out before Sanada had a chance to censor them. He came inside the room and closed the door. "Renji said...you and the doctor would have talked by now."
"Yes. The doctor is actually a friend of Renji's, isn't that fortunate?" Yukimura turned then in the wheelchair, filling the space between them with a fragile smile. "He says...that I have a mystery soap opera disease."
Sanada let out the breath he was holding, deeply glad Yukimura hadn't taken his time in the telling. "What will that mean?" he asked, taking the familiar path, the one of planned action. The problem had been identified, now they just needed to counteract it.
"A lot of dramatic scenes. Probably more fainting spells, confinement to a wheelchair. Sweeps are coming up, he said, so my outlook is good for now. But...I'm a little scared," Yukimura admitted. "There's no guarantee about tennis."
Sanada felt his blood turn to ice. Yukimura...without tennis? His brain simply wouldn't process those two thoughts. "There's never any guarantees," he heard himself saying. "That's why we always have to work hard at everything. But...I believe in you, and that you will play again."
"Genichirou...." Yukimura glided towards Sanada, extending a hand to him. "When you say it, I've no choice but to believe it...and make it come true." Yukimura pulled Sanada's hand against his cheek, resting his face in Sanada's palm with a contented sigh. "If you think you can push me, let's take a walk around the hospital, together."
Sanada thought he could fly. A walk around the hospital, pushing Yukimura. It seemed too good to be true. "Let's go," he said, a bit abruptly but he wanted to be underway before Yukimura could change his mind or a piano could fall on him and temporarily deflate his happiness.
A short while later, they were making their way around the first floor of the hospital, coming close to the emergency room as they talked about art and homemade bread and how Yukimura's sister should never have gotten old enough to date. Despite the subject that neither of them mentioned, both were having a good time in each other's company, forgetting (at least for a little while) their problems. It was almost like a date
"....Yu...ki...mu...ra...." a guttural, haunted voice croaked near the emergency room door. It belonged to a ghastly-looking creature, bleeding, matted hair atop its head.
The door opened, admitting a nurse. "Echizen-kun, you must get back into the emergency room. The doctor has only a five-minute window in which to see and treat you; you're down to ninety seconds."
"Play...me....Yuki......mu.....raaaaaaaaaa." A hand, missing flesh in various places and the whiteness of bone exposed in two fingers, reached in mad desperation for Yukimura, trying to grasp him.
"Ah, now that's enough of you. Play nice, brat, no scaring everyone." A pair of orderlies scooped up what remained of Echizen Ryoma, dropping him onto a gurney for transport. "Good to see you again...buchou," one added, saluting him with a devil-may-care smirk.
"Niou-kun, I think we're going to need a mop," the other said, his glasses reflecting the light. "Echizen-kun was in some sort of accident, it seems, and when the ER physician mentioned your name, he started crawling out of the room to find you. It seems he feels you owe him a game?"
"I had to drop out of the Nike Invitational. Had I played, it's certain we would have met in the finals," Yukimura said.
"Well, if someone can get him presentable again, there is surely a future rematch," Yagyuu replied without hesitation. "Sanada, take Yukimura back upstairs, there's no telling how many other tennis-crazed mental cases could be down here." With that, they wheeled Echizen's twitching remains back into the emergency room.
"Did you hear that, Genichirou? If someone can get Echizen presentable again, there can be a future rematch. Not me, Echizen." Determination suffused Yukimura's thin frame. "I'm going to get better. I'm going to be worthy of that certainty," Yukimura said, and fainted.
"YUKIMURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
~*~
Will 'the game' end up in Tezuka playing pool....or playing on the pool table? Will Yukimura stop fainting long enough for Sanada to kiss him? Will Inui ever get another assistant? Will Echizen survive, or has the time come for a new Prince of Tennis to emerge? Will Niou and Yagyuu get a storyline of their own? For the answers to these and more, tune in next time to 'Seigaku General'.
~~cue theme music and end credits~~
lol hai gaiz R&R plz i need liek 20 reviews b4 i can post teh next chappie!!!!
For: arithion
Title: Seigaku General
Pairing/characters: Tezuka/Fuji, Sanada/Yukimura, implied Oshitari/Atobe
Rating: PG, maybe
Warning (if any): Crack. Pure AU cheese on crack(ers). Melodrama at its finest. It's entirely possible that there are (lots of) badfic!OOC moments.
Summary: Sports manga is a soap opera for boys. This time, it's just a soap opera.
Notes (if any): Bad!fic is bad. But fun. I know this /may/ not quite be what you had in mind, but please enjoy it! ♥
Dr. Inui Sadaharu cleared his throat and made a couple of chicken-scratched notes on the chart in front of him. He clicked the ballpoint and stuck it back in the front pocket of his lab coat, taking a seat on the stool across from his patient. This was the hardest part of his job by far, breaking this sort of news, especially to one so beautiful and in the prime of life. Those dewy eyes, that winning smile, the thin hands nervously twisting the handkerchief....how could one remain distant and stoic in the face of such tragic bravery? He reminded himself that, alas, at the end of the day it was just a job, and that only once the weight of diagnosis had been delivered could they, together, focus on the path of healing. "Yukimura-san?" he began, pushing his glasses back into place.
"Yes, Doctor?" Yukimura Seiichi put on his strongest face, ready for whatever the eccentric physician had to say. Something--anything--would be preferable to the past several months of not knowing, only being aware that his health was slipping away from him.
The doctor drew a deep breath. "We've run every test known to man and a few I invented on the fly, but they have all come back with the same results. Yukimura-san, I'm very sorry, but it seems certain that you have....a mystery soap opera disease."
"Oh no." Not a mystery soap opera disease! Anything but that! Yukimura blanched, paling almost enough to bring on one of his bizarre fainting spells, which everyone knew were one of the primary symptoms of a mystery soap opera disease. "...what will I tell Sanada? He's going to be so worried. This is no enemy of straw he can battle into submission."
"Pardon?"
"Oh, nevermind. I think it's the disease talking." Yukimura managed a wan smile for the doctor. "All right, so it's a mystery soap opera disease. That's better than a brain tumor, I think. Will...will I ever be able to play tennis again?"
Dr. Inui chewed his lower lip in thought. "I can't answer that yet. Miraculous recoveries have indeed been obtained from mystery soap opera diseases, things that defy odds and science altogether. If you were to ask if you'd ever walk again, then I could allude to months and months of grueling physical therapy and untold emotional pain before yes, you'd be able to take your first halting steps into the arms of your beloved...?"
"Sanada."
"Sanada. But...." He spread his hands wide. "With a mystery soap opera disease, I cannot begin to guess the prognosis. Especially with sweeps around the corner and the writers' strike..."
"I see. I...think I need a wheelchair, then," Yukimura said, and fainted.
"Oh, what a cruel fate is mystery soap opera disease," Dr. Inui muttered, collecting the crumpled form of his patient and ringing the nurse for a wheelchair. It was just another day at Seigaku General Hospital.
~*~
"Buchou!"
Tezuka Kunimitsu sighed to himself, straightening his tie and turning to his classmate and fellow intern at Seigaku General. "Kawamura, it's not necessary to keep calling me that. I'm not captain of anything anymore."
"Sorry, sorry." The affable Kawamura rubbed the back of his head with one hand. "Old habit and all. You were captain of just everything, though: tennis team, swim team, fencing team, handicrafts club...."
"Kawamura!" The first rule of handicrafts club was - you do not talk about handicrafts club.
"Sorry, sorry!" Apology was second nature to Kawamura. "Which area do you have rounds in this morning?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Obstetrics, I believe." Tezuka made a needless glance down at his chart, for he was never wrong.
"Ah. That's Fujiko's duty station." There was a pregnant pause, likely because the subject was obstetrics. "Bu-...I mean, Tezuka-san, you /have/ met Fujiko, haven't you?"
"I don't believe so. This is my first rotation in obstetrics. Why do you ask?" Fujiko....surely Kawamura wasn't trying to set him up on a date with a woman? The second rule of handicrafts club was - you do not talk about the captain's sexual orientation...even several years after high school.
"Oh, no reason, no reason." Kawamura knew /that/ look, the one that began with 'the [insert number here] rule of handicrafts club'. "Fujiko is one of the head nurses on that floor. If you haven't been in obstetrics, it makes sense that you haven't met yet. But you should also watch out for Oshitari."
"Oshitari?" Was there anyone in this hospital that Kawamura didn't know?
"Both he and Fujiko are considered to be nursing geniuses, but that causes them to be in conflict," Kawamura explained. "The last time they got into it, it's said the whole maternity ward was covered in teddy bears...."
Tezuka blinked, wondering in what sort of Bizarro World he had found himself. Teddy bear fights? In a hospital? "They try that on my watch and..."
"...it'll be 100 laps," Kawamura said in unison with Tezuka, giving an embarrassed chuckle. Tezuka's right eyebrow lowered precisely 2.5mm, the equivalent of a scowl, and he stormed out of the intern lounge, punching the elevator button for the sixth floor.
Fujiko. Whoever this Fujiko was, she was going to learn some discipline, learn the real reason a hospital existed. It wasn't for her amusement, it was to help sick people. Nothing else mattered! Sick people were the only motivation. He glared at the elevator doors, willing them to open. As his floor had been reached, the doors were only too happy to comply, freeing him to storm down the corridor towards the nurses' station.
"You must be Tezuka," a voice said, piercing through his haze of dark annoyance. Tezuka turned...and looked straight into beauty, joy, and at least thirty-seven more descriptive words.
The third rule of handicrafts club was - the reason you do not talk about the captain's sexual orientation is because he is pink triangles and rainbows gay...in a quiet, subdued, understated sort of way.
"Um...hello? Tezuka...san?" The nurse--Fujiko--waved his hand in front of Tezuka's thunderstruck face.
"....why do birds suddenly appear...every time you are near?" Tezuka murmured.
"Oh, those. Sorry, I sometimes forget when I have them on. Tsubame gaeshi, deactivate." The birds whisked out of existence--or at least out of sight. "Are you all right? You seemed a bit out of it."
"Fine, fine." Tezuka adjusted his tie again, wondering if it would be untoward to kiss Kawamura in thanks later. "My apologies, Nurse...?"
"Fuji. Fuji Syuusuke. I'm in charge of day shift nursing on this floor." The vision of loveliness was clad in simple purple (Tezuka's favorite color!) scrubs with Happy Bunny on them that said 'Hi loser'. "This is your first time here?"
Tezuka nodded. "My previous rotations have been in pediatrics, internal medicine, and the cardio cath lab."
"Then I'll be sure not to bore you with repetition. Obviously, this being obstetrics, all of our patients are female. Well, there was that one...but audience reaction to him was terrible, and he was written out with cervical cancer..."
"What?"
"Mm, nothing. No mpreg here," Fuji said brightly, and Tezuka felt a little weak inside. "Insurance being what it is, unless there are complications, most of our patients are released within 48 hours, sometimes sooner." He gestured down the hallway, indicating Tezuka should walk with him. "When this hospital was built, it was common practice for the newborn infants to all be housed in a single nursery, but we bunk them in the mother's room now. So, we've turned what was once the main nursery into a game room. Do you play pool?"
Tezuka felt himself turn blue, sounds of cracking and breaking glass echoing in his ears. His earlier righteous indignation at a less-than-100% serious attitude towards hospital affairs surged again, quieting the happy rush below his belt. "I do not," he lied, "especially not at the hospital."
"Oh." Fuji's face closed up before him, but Tezuka's sense of propriety would not be moved. "I see. Well, shall we continue then?"
"Fuji," a new voice purred. Beside Tezuka, Fuji's posture sharpened. "Who have we here?"
"An intern on first floor rotation." A moment of electricity seemed to crackle between Fuji and the other man, a taller fellow wearing glasses and a self-important smirk. Like Fuji, he too was clad in scrubs, navy ones with tiny pink octopi on them. "Tezuka-san, this is Oshitari Yuushi, the nurse in charge of night shift. What he's doing here during daylight hours I couldn't guess. Everyone seems to think he's a vampire."
"Oh, Fuji, you're so funny." Oshitari leaned against a doorway, giving Tezuka a frank, head-to-toe appraisal. "I'm no bloodsucker, not when there's a whole refrigerator full of the stuff a few floors down."
"You'll have to forgive him, he suffers from a lack of manners. Common on night shift, I'm told." Fuji's expression was still closed to Tezuka, but Tezuka noticed the nurse had taken a subtle step between him and Oshitari. "Aren't you due in the director's office? Sponge bath time?"
Oshitari's eyes narrowed, then he gave a deep, sarcastic chuckle. "Touché, mon ami. Tezuka-kun, pleasure to meet you." He nodded and strolled off down the hall.
"Sponge bath?" Tezuka asked once the other nurse was out of earshot. "In the director's office? Surely that can't be a healthy place or a controlled environment in which to keep a patient...?"
Fuji paused, frozen like a photograph. "You'll learn," he said at last, treating Tezuka to a brief smile, one that almost had the straight-laced intern ready to rack up his balls in the nursery-turned-pool-hall. Almost. "Let's keep going. We'll be meeting patients next."
Fuji's cellphone jingled with an incoming text message, and while Tezuka was greeting a new mother, Fuji stepped to one side and checked the message. It was, unsurprisingly, from Oshitari. Dibs on the new intern, it read.
Dibs, huh...? Fuji glanced over at Tezuka, watching him interact with the patient and her newborn son. The baby gurgled and the corners of Tezuka's mouth turned up ever so slightly.
In the director's office, Oshitari's phone beeped, which was handed to him by an elegant, manicured hand. The nurse put down the sponge and accepted the phone with a grinning thanks.
...I don't think so.
"Ah..." Oshitari chuckled, putting the phone away, "it seems like the game is afoot."
~*~
He was certain that repeatedly typing 'mystery soap opera disease' was a one-way ticket to carpal tunnel, but this was an important case and everything had to be fully documented. Dr. Inui sighed as he finished transcribing his notes into the computer. He really needed to get another assistant, but the hospital budget was strapped paying legal fees for cases involving his last three assistants. The director had told him in no uncertain terms that for the foreseeable future, he'd be in charge of his own transcribing...and he was banned from the hospital cafeteria for life. That was another four lawsuits settled and one more still on the books.
"You look like you could use some nourishment, Sadaharu." A tall figure leaned into the room, paper sack crinkling from the deli two streets over. "If you've got a spare chair, lunch is on me."
"Renji!" Dr. Inui pushed back from the computer. "Come in, please. When I saw Yukimura-san on my patient roster, I knew you couldn't be far behind." He reached and swept a few stacks of paperwork out of the way, providing a makeshift lunchtable.
"Yes. Genichirou doesn't handle bad news well." Yanagi Renji unloaded soups, sandwiches, and a single cookie, cut in half, from his bag. "It is bad news, isn't it?"
"Legally, I'm not permitted to disclose anything to you, but I don't think the law applies to instances of one's childhood friend." Inui didn't wait for Renji to encourage or discourage him. "It's not good, as I'm sure you've suspected. In fact, I can conclusively say with little margin for error that it is a mystery soap opera disease."
"....damn. When was the last time someone survived that?"
"Two in the past three years, but one was helped by a write-in campaign. It's all in the hands of the fans now."
"...then we'll have to hope Seiichi's popularity motivates them to great things on his behalf." Renji popped open a can of cold coffee, pouring half in each of two cups Inui handed over. "I just dropped Genichirou at the elevator, he should be making his way up to Seiichi's room." He sorted the sandwiches, opened the soups and placed a spoon beside each one. "I see the director isn't budging on getting you another assistant..."
"No." Inui sounded positively glum, even around a mouthful of sandwich.
"...I may have a solution in mind. But I'll save that for over dessert."
"Sadist."
"You're too kind, Sadaharu."
~*~
Sanada hated hospitals. Hospitals had no tangible enemy, no one at which to strike and exact vengeance. No one to reason with, if striking did not do the job. Hospitals, and his presence now in this particular one, were an ugly reminder of one thing and one thing alone: his failure.
~~the shot blurs and fades out, refocusing on a black and white scene from an episode years ago~~
Failure.
The law of Rikkaidai is: we do not lose.
Yet here Sanada Genichirou is, totally defeated at the hands of a cocky kid, a kid pronouncing that he had 'much more to work on'.
Time passes, as time always does, and this kid goes on to a professional career, rivaling only that of Sanada's most important person, Yukimura Seiichi. In the professional ranks, it is Yukimura who hands this upstart his defeat...a defeat that has Echizen Ryoma pursuing Yukimura with a fervor bordering on fanaticism.
Surely, it is that pursuit which has landed Yukimura here, now...
~~the black and white shot blurs out, refocusing back on Sanada, in the present, standing before Yukimura's hospital room~~
Sanada slid the family stone from his pocket, clasping it between both hands, thumbs stroking over the smooth surface. "I will protect you, Seiichi," he whispered, replacing the stone and knocking on the door. A faint "Come in" beckoned him, and determined not to hesitate again, Sanada opened the door.
"Genichirou." Yukimura hadn't turned around from where he sat near the window, but the certainty in his voice was welcome. "I'm glad you're here."
"Where else would I be?" The words were out before Sanada had a chance to censor them. He came inside the room and closed the door. "Renji said...you and the doctor would have talked by now."
"Yes. The doctor is actually a friend of Renji's, isn't that fortunate?" Yukimura turned then in the wheelchair, filling the space between them with a fragile smile. "He says...that I have a mystery soap opera disease."
Sanada let out the breath he was holding, deeply glad Yukimura hadn't taken his time in the telling. "What will that mean?" he asked, taking the familiar path, the one of planned action. The problem had been identified, now they just needed to counteract it.
"A lot of dramatic scenes. Probably more fainting spells, confinement to a wheelchair. Sweeps are coming up, he said, so my outlook is good for now. But...I'm a little scared," Yukimura admitted. "There's no guarantee about tennis."
Sanada felt his blood turn to ice. Yukimura...without tennis? His brain simply wouldn't process those two thoughts. "There's never any guarantees," he heard himself saying. "That's why we always have to work hard at everything. But...I believe in you, and that you will play again."
"Genichirou...." Yukimura glided towards Sanada, extending a hand to him. "When you say it, I've no choice but to believe it...and make it come true." Yukimura pulled Sanada's hand against his cheek, resting his face in Sanada's palm with a contented sigh. "If you think you can push me, let's take a walk around the hospital, together."
Sanada thought he could fly. A walk around the hospital, pushing Yukimura. It seemed too good to be true. "Let's go," he said, a bit abruptly but he wanted to be underway before Yukimura could change his mind or a piano could fall on him and temporarily deflate his happiness.
A short while later, they were making their way around the first floor of the hospital, coming close to the emergency room as they talked about art and homemade bread and how Yukimura's sister should never have gotten old enough to date. Despite the subject that neither of them mentioned, both were having a good time in each other's company, forgetting (at least for a little while) their problems. It was almost like a date
"....Yu...ki...mu...ra...." a guttural, haunted voice croaked near the emergency room door. It belonged to a ghastly-looking creature, bleeding, matted hair atop its head.
The door opened, admitting a nurse. "Echizen-kun, you must get back into the emergency room. The doctor has only a five-minute window in which to see and treat you; you're down to ninety seconds."
"Play...me....Yuki......mu.....raaaaaaaaaa." A hand, missing flesh in various places and the whiteness of bone exposed in two fingers, reached in mad desperation for Yukimura, trying to grasp him.
"Ah, now that's enough of you. Play nice, brat, no scaring everyone." A pair of orderlies scooped up what remained of Echizen Ryoma, dropping him onto a gurney for transport. "Good to see you again...buchou," one added, saluting him with a devil-may-care smirk.
"Niou-kun, I think we're going to need a mop," the other said, his glasses reflecting the light. "Echizen-kun was in some sort of accident, it seems, and when the ER physician mentioned your name, he started crawling out of the room to find you. It seems he feels you owe him a game?"
"I had to drop out of the Nike Invitational. Had I played, it's certain we would have met in the finals," Yukimura said.
"Well, if someone can get him presentable again, there is surely a future rematch," Yagyuu replied without hesitation. "Sanada, take Yukimura back upstairs, there's no telling how many other tennis-crazed mental cases could be down here." With that, they wheeled Echizen's twitching remains back into the emergency room.
"Did you hear that, Genichirou? If someone can get Echizen presentable again, there can be a future rematch. Not me, Echizen." Determination suffused Yukimura's thin frame. "I'm going to get better. I'm going to be worthy of that certainty," Yukimura said, and fainted.
"YUKIMURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
~*~
Will 'the game' end up in Tezuka playing pool....or playing on the pool table? Will Yukimura stop fainting long enough for Sanada to kiss him? Will Inui ever get another assistant? Will Echizen survive, or has the time come for a new Prince of Tennis to emerge? Will Niou and Yagyuu get a storyline of their own? For the answers to these and more, tune in next time to 'Seigaku General'.
~~cue theme music and end credits~~
lol hai gaiz R&R plz i need liek 20 reviews b4 i can post teh next chappie!!!!