[log] Fallen First Star
Characters: Yukimura Seiichi and Yanagi Renji
Location: The forest and then the caves
Time: July 14, immediately following Yukimura's intro post
Rating: PG, maybe
Summary: Parasailing gone bad crashes Yukimura on the island. Yanagi rescues. Sex Hilarity Sexual hilarity Sadly, none of the above Reunion and island infodump ensue in equal parts smooth and awkward. 2/3 Troika FTW? And Japanese homonym title pun, OTL
For just a moment after the impact, Yukimura Seiichi lay sprawled in a tangle of nylon and tree branches (Juniperus bermudiana, the back of his mind told him). The shoulder pieces of his harness hugged the span with subtle tension, the snared parasail about two meters higher in the juniper’s embrace. Siri, as she all too often did, nattered on in her choppy diction, and Yukimura slid a finger over the phone’s power button. That might take him off the metaphorical grid, but Renji said he knew where he was. Renji said he would come. If Renji said it, there was no grid required. A pickaxe, a compass and night goggles, and Renji could find a single star in a billion galaxies. Seiichi knew that, knew and believed it to his bones.
There were questions--questions with no answers, questions with painful answers--certain to come, but those could wait until the world got larger again. In the past hour or so, it had shrunk from the entire planet and a Wimbledon victory so sweet he could still taste it to the span of a single Bermuda cedar.
Yanagi checked his phone again. He had spent enough time in that island to identify the path he was running walking through without even looking. Yes, he was wondering how in earth Yukimura had caught himself pry of the wind to end in this ill-fated island, but... weirder stuff had happened in the last few months. The priority was to ensure the other’s safety; Kite’s traps were all over the place after all. He turned to the left and then turned right; if he wasn’t mistaken Yukimura should be around 10m ahead in...
Oh there.
“Good to see you again, Seiichi”.
Yukimura heard the sounds of motion approaching, the rhythm of steps once familiar as his own. Despite himself, he smiled; they were changed, Renji’s steps, accounting for the greater height all of them now carried.
Even seven years later he still thought of ‘them’ as the three, bonded and bound together as body, mind and soul to make up one. Yet, that one had splintered back into three, three paths and three destinies running parallel but no longer quite together. No longer quite touching.
He closed his eyes against visions of three sets of footprints dividing from a single one, holding his breath and waiting for the comforting sound of Tokyo on another’s tongue. He spoke and heard English so frequently now that he’d almost forgotten that peculiar lilt in his personal name discernible only when the syllables were curled in Kanagawa.
Yukimura opened his eyes and peeked down through the sprays of foliage, conscious of the tethers keeping him bound. “It’s been a while, Renji.” He blinked, then that wry smile emerged, wreathed in sunshine. “You’re taller. Again. I just can’t catch up, can I?”
Yanagi chuckled. “Our growth rates didn’t have even a point of comparison after my growth spurt in middle school, Seiichi. Not that being slightly short was any impediment for you to coward any tall and menacing adversary.” He smiled slightly. “You could say you can look down on me now, though.” The light went through the foliage, making all kind of shadows of green over his friend. Yanagi must had assumed that if Yukimura was ever going to end up stuck in this island, he would definitely fall from the sky. He took his cellphone out and took a picture of the hanging man. “This is something I should keep a tangible memory of.”
Yanagi eyed critically the surroundings. It seemed safe of any undesirable surprise. “Are you alright? Can you sense any injury I can’t see from here?” He asked quietly already half climbing to reach the ropes of the parasailing. They had formed several knots with the trees’ branches; the easiest way to free his friend was to cut them loose but there had been an injury as a broken bone, he needed to take precautions first.
“Travel the planet a bit more and you’ll soon find short and tall are relative.” Seiichi had been 175cm in his third year, a not-diminutive height in Japan, and topped out at 180cm, just shy of six feet. Nevertheless, in the US he was often dwarfed by other athletes. Standing next to Kevin Durant at a Nike event had been humbling. “I think I was just masochistic enough to choose two sequoias for best friends.” He flailed his hands, as best he could, in protest of the photo. “Let me pose, at least. You’re as bad as the paparazzi.” There was no heat in his words, only tease.
A quick self-analysis resulted in a shake of Yukimura’s head. “Just my pride, my self-respect, and my connection with reality, I think. Everything seems to move as it should. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but that happens when you crash into a tree.” And wasn’t this old times in an object lesson nutshell? Tangled and unable to get free, and it’s Renji who is sorting order from my chaos, Yukimura thought. “I’ve got a rope around my left ankle, but I don’t think it’s knotted. I just can’t reach it.”
“I think I prefer being referred as ‘Willow’ instead of sequoia, Seiichi.” Yanagi moved and adjusted some of the branches along with the rope around them; then, he reached for the thickest one on the top to balance his weight, hanging like that he could was facing his long-time friend. “It’s good to see you again, even if it is under such... unfortunate circumstances.” He smiled slightly before cutting loose the rope, which rearranged itself seeking its natural course. Yes, they have new rope now.
That meant that his friend was going down, though.
“As you wish, ‘Willow’.” The English version carried much less accent than Seiichi’s junior high pronunciation, and a smile that was older, wiser, and full of fondness. “I was just thinking how fitting it is, you being the one here to save me, so to speak.” More able to move now, he wiggled his shoulders, bracing his foot in the juncture of branch and trunk. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”
The carabiner holding the bulk of his harness together fought to stay closed, but with determination Yukimura wrenched it open. He shrugged out of each half of the harness with Renji’s help, careful not to overbalance and bring both of them out of the tree. “With Atobe’s ship not being commercially registered, it took a while for the disappearance to be reported, at least overseas. How long have you been here?” There was the whole matter of Siri finding a wifi signal in this wilderness, but somehow that seemed a less important question.
“73 days 7 hours.” Yanagi frowned. “That’s definitely not the time I expected to be, but I guess that discussing my theory of being inside of a parallel universe where time/space are ruled by randomness is not to be discussed while hanging of a tree.” He tested the harness resistance with his foot. “Many.... things have passed since we got into that ship. You’ll love the haunted giraffe wallpaper stories, I’m sure. Do you want to go down the safe way or the fun way?”
A wicked gleam shot through Yukimura’s lavender-grey eyes, full of mischief. “Given those choices, I’ll take fun every time.” Haunted giraffe wallpaper? That sounded so much like one of Genichirou’s paranoias it almost hurt. “...he came on the cruise with you, didn’t he?” There was no need to state who ‘he’ was.
Yanagi smiled slightly. “I knew you were going to choose that one.” He shifted the main ropes that held the harness in place and hook one leg around the new makeshift safety line. Yanagi looked up to see if they have enough rope to reach the ground to avoid tearing the parasailing. It was going to be short by approximately 2m. He mentally shrugged, it was close enough. “Let go on the count of three, Seiichi.” Holding his weight with one arm, he passed the other one around the other’s waist. “One... two... three...” With a final strong tug the rope, the harness gave up and they were failing.
It never occurred to Yukimura not to jump. If Renji proposed the plan, he’d already calculated the chance of success versus injury and the odds were favorable. A controlled fall was far preferable to a spinning parasail. Besides, in this he wasn’t alone (well, Siri had been with him before, but an iPhone voice only went so far). It was amazing both how strong and how brave one could be with that assurance.
The fall wasn’t far, the adrenaline greeting him with glee on the way down. The rope held, but the branch did not; in a tumble of arms and legs and fluttering nylon they found the ground, breathless and laughing. “That,” Yukimura declared between giggles, “is why I always take the fun way. Nice landing.” He ran his hand over Renji’s shoulder, reluctant to move again so quickly. It didn’t occur to him at the time that Renji hadn’t answered his question about Genichirou.
“More than landing, I believe it was falling with style.” Yanagi said chuckling. He was feeling nice and warm and everything seemed brighter. It was a side effect of Yukimura’s laugh. He had noticed that back in junior high; the time they were stricken by the blunette’s sickness had been the darkest coldest times he remember ever experienced in Rikkai. He put a hand over the one in his shoulder, then he took it off to pass it through his hair (it was longer now). “As I see you have no rescuing equipment at all with you, so I can safely assume you’re not here in a rescuing mission gone wrong. Before I feel offended of you not trying to look for us... how is it that you didn’t took the cruise? It was safely apart from this season’s Grand Slams...”
“If it was a rescue, I’d have brought an aircraft carrier.” It was impossible to describe the contentedness surrounding him. By all logical conclusions, he was stuck there, as Renji and many others had already been for 73 days. He should be upset, angry, Yukimura thought, and yet he wasn’t. “My manager. He intercepted the ticket Atobe sent, didn’t tell me about the cruise, and I was so determined to beat Djokovic that I wasn’t paying attention to much else. Then, after Wimbledon, he decided to send me on a cruise to ‘relax’. We docked in Bermuda, I went parasailing with what turned out to be the shoddiest outfit in Bermuda. The rope broke, the wind did the rest and here I am.”
“I expected something like that from him. You said you knew we were missing, though...” Yanagi stood up trying to de-tangle himself out of the mess, his voice cold. “I can assure you won’t be playing against Djokovic in a near future...” He offered a hand to help the other up. “Let’s pick this up, I’ll take you to the caves...”
“...it took approximately a month for the story to break, it’s my guess Atobe’s people were trying to sort it on their own before then and not worry their shareholders or customers.” Word had come right around the French Open, what with Atobe and Tezuka’s absences; the previous contentment drained into self-recrimination. He’d hurt Renji, and that was something that needed mending. “I should have scratched Wimbledon, but everyone I tried to talk to said the government was handling it, that the Americans would have their Navy and Coast Guard investigate. I should have known that in an election year the Americans have other priorities, especially with none of their citizens involved.”
Yukimura took the proffered hand, getting to his feet in a graceful motion. He met Renji’s eyes, indecision in his own for the span of a breath, and then he bowed low at the waist. ”Moushiwake arimasen.” Those weren’t easy words to say, the humblest and most abasing form of apology in their language, and though he did try to be a good Buddhist Yukimura Seiichi was not a humble man by nature.
Yanagi was taken aback for a second. He definitely didn’t see that coming. Yukimura tended to be as prideful and stubborn as Sanada sometimes. Even more if it involved tennis in some way. It felt right, though; he should have done something more than hearing the news of their disappearing and hope for the best case-scenario to unfold. They were more than friends, they were family. Yanagi rubbed his temples already sensing a headache coming, between Sanada being painfully stubborn and this new arrival (and its consequences)... it was indeed a mystery how he still kept his sanity.
“I’m perfectly aware the importance of tennis on your life Seiichi, just... do a thorough check up in your priorities. Come on, let’s go the camp.” He put a hand over the other’s shoulder before taking it away and looked over the parasailing. “This might be handy, please help me to fold it? I don’t think there might be much salvageable things on the boat anymore...”
He wasn’t necessarily forgiven yet, but his words and their sentiment had been heard and accepted. With a small exhalation of relief, Yukimura stood upright again. “Mum wanted to put your photos in the family altar so she and Granny could pray for your souls, but I refused. Somehow, I knew you both were out here somewhere.”
The garish green, red and blue parasail lay in a heap at the bottom of the cedar, much like they had only a few moments ago. A couple of tugs brought down the remaining ropes and hardware, then Yukimura gathered up one end of the sail, tossing the other towards Renji. A few coordinated folds later yielded a stack of parasail, ropes, and carabiners, all of which would doubtless come in handy. He gathered it up, patting his pocket to be sure Siri was still there. “Lead the way.”
The onetime captain took in the surroundings as they walked, making a few mental notes on where fruit-bearing plants were and the path towards their metaphorical camp. Just how many people were on this island? He thought he caught a glimpse of Tezuka skulking through the underbrush, a flash of silver hair that was likely Niou, a few faces he half-recognized but which didn’t spark an immediate response. Each Rikkai one, though, tightened the possessive noose of ‘mine’ around his heart; some things never changed for him.
“Currently there are 46 people in this island,” Yangi started predicting what must be in his friend’s mind “with very different reasons of why they ended up in here. The most logical explanation is that this island has some sort of attracting force to any person related to japanese tennis that somehow crossed paths 5-8 years ago. If you think that sounds absurd, you just have no idea...” They were arriving to the beach already. “Everyone from Rikkai is physically alright, being the most vulnerable Genichirou and Akaya with the injuries they got before the cruise and that the ill-fated conditions we’re living under haven’t help for their complete recovering. On the emotional side... well, it seems that being allowed to spend time together had stirred some old unresolved feelings.” He huffed, annoyed.
“I’m afraid this isn’t a five star hotel as the one you’re used to, but the caves have worked perfectly as shelter so far...” He said motioning the entrance of the cave. “Do you want to take a look?”
“That...wow,” Yukimura mused, watching a bundle of loud and spastic cross their path (Seigaku’s Momoshiro, he though). “It sounds like the plot of a B movie, but...truth is stranger than fiction, hmm?” The sun had begun to slant westward--at least that was Yukimura’s guess, cardinal direction seemed hard to gauge with certainty--and the number of shadows along the beach suggested Renji’s number wasn’t exaggerated. “How are they both? I haven’t seen Akaya since his arthro.” That answered his earlier question, though belatedly: Genichirou was here. The pang resonated through him, sharp and swift; Renji’s annoyance seemed to indicate he hadn’t noticed Yukimura’s lapse. “Oh?” he said, finding his voice. “So how is Inui-san?” The teasing note was in his voice, but dark eyebrows slanted down over his eyes with curiosity and concern. If anything was old and unresolved, it was that tangle of feelings.
With a blithe shrug and a nod, Yukimura stepped forward to see inside. “It reminds me a little of that ill-fated camping trip we took after winning the first Nationals. How long did we last again before giving in and calling our parents?” He grinned back over his shoulder and ventured deeper into the cave’s mouth.
Oh shit. Well, it wasn’t as Yukimura didn’t suspect Sanada was in there as well (and the fact that Yukimura- san had considered placing them in the family altar had been really thoughtful and slightly dramatic and suggested they were together when the ship went missing). After all the capslocking the night before with Sanada, Yanagi felt tempted to say all that he knew but decided against it in the end. It was not his job to tell and Yukimura would know about it eventually. The mention of his other friend pulled him off his thoughts, though. “Uh? Sadaharu? He’s fine, excited with all the new ingredients to put into his juices, so he has been... busy. Akaya is dealing with his his inner emotional turmoil.” Yanagi shook his head, trying to clear his head.
Now, taking a good look over the caves, they did look like a nice camp. After spending more than two months in them, they held some sense of ‘home’. He pointed at one of the caves that was next to Sanada’s and his. “You could take this one if it pleases you, we’ve have enough sheets/pillows and first necessity items you might need, so don’t worry about them.” he grabbed a couple of pillows and sheets from his own cave. “We’ve more experience now that we had back then, and it took us 2 days 3 hours 24 minutes to finally give in. It would have been less if Genichirou hadn’t confiscated our phones after finding Bunta texting Akaya complaining in real time about our camp.” He smiled slightly.
“Oh, we use sheets as doors too, Seiichi. Privacy is appreciated in the times of primal urges."
Note to self: Inui Sadaharu is still a valid distraction for Yanagi Renji, even when the latter doesn’t quite recognize it. Yukimura hid a smile behind one hand, thinking not for the first time how odd and nostalgic this island was proving to be. Renji’s theory about the island attracting tennis players seemed sound, what with his own strange arrival. If so, what was the overall purpose? Was it similar to a video game, and they all had to level up before they could go home? Who could tell?
The indicated cave seemed comfortable enough, as far as caves went, and Yukimura stacked the parasail and rope along one grey rock wall, more or less claiming it as his. “Thanks, Renji.” Clearly the space had thusfar been unoccupied by human inhabitants, and even knowing how many friends and former acquaintances were milling about the island, a retreat to call his and his alone was welcome. Even someone as social as Yukimura Seiichi needed time and space to himself.
“‘Primal urges’?” Yukimura couldn’t help repeating with a snicker. “You know you can’t drop a bombshell like that and leave me hanging, ‘Professor’. Who’s doing whom?”
“I tell the sin not the sinner, Seiichi.” Yanagi answered, an amused tone in his voice. “You will find out eventually...” Seeing as the cave was being claimed by the blunette, he proceeded to place the sheets as makeshift futon. “The island is getting more crowded with every passing day. Somehow. Seigaku usually wander around the beach being loudly; Hyotei, Rokkaku, Yamabuki and... others can be find... anywhere really. Some sort of community has been formed I supposed. Kite Eishirou’s base is the farthest known part of the jungle. I would recommend you not to wander alone over there, he has all kinds of traps. I believe to protect himself of the stupidity of some individuals in here...” He pulled out from a pillowcase a couple of bottles with shampoo and soap over a nice flat rock. When Yanagi finished, he stayed there kneeling on the cave’s floor. I would prefer you being anywhere but here, Seiichi. “That’s pretty much everything I can tell you without you starting being boring you since your attention rate will decrease if I tell you the statics of this place...”
“Names or it didn’t happen,” Yukimura shot back, all wide smile and wry humor. “If there are as many urges going around as you’re indicating, I don’t see how I can remain blissfully ignorant.” Pause. “Is there a betting pool yet? I’d like to know what the odds are.”
He hummed a bit absently, arranging the items from Renji first by size, then changing to by color. “Then don’t tell me just statistics. Tell me what I need to become supreme overlord in three days.” Yukimura tapped his index finger against his bottom teeth, thinking a few things through. “Probably the best thing I can do is cook. I noticed that there are Surinam cherry trees here. The fruit can be hit or miss as to tart or sweet, but this will address both preferences.”
Yanagi laughed. “Oh I wish I could remain blissfully ignorant. You see, caves have echo.” He chuckled at his friend rearranging everything and fought back the urge of changing it back. “Seiichi, you don’t need me to ask me. We both know you’ll take over with or without my help. There are a few people gifted in the cuisine department and the tool make-shifting department as well. I trust you saw the huts outside? If you can make desserts I’m pretty sure you will have Akutagawa Jirou gravitating around you. You will need to find something to do, though. This place... is... surprisingly boring after the first three days.”
“Can I make desserts?” He couldn’t resist a playful poke or two at Renji’s midsection. “In school I think my cookies were responsible for every extra gram I could tack on you. I’m still not as good as Mum, I don’t know if I ever will be, but...she’s had a lot more practice than me.” Excessive down time, that was a worry niggling in the back of his mind. Foraging, that he could do. Identifying plants, also a worthy skill. But that only took up so much time, and...what of the one who ranked even higher than Siri on his list? “...there isn’t a place to play tennis here, is there?” That came out a bit more desperate-sounding than it had in his head, Yukimura thought with an inner scowl.
“Yeah well... tennis deprived tennis players would have thought of a tennis court at some point. There is a makeshift court that Krauser and Ibu made. You’ll have plenty of adversaries, Echizen for example.” Yanagi smirked slightly. “There isn’t any racquets nor balls, though.”
“You wound me! Tennis with no racquet or balls.” Yukimura wasn’t even sure how that would work, but doubtless in a few days he’d be out there running with the rest of them. The grass at Centre Court suddenly seemed a world away, even though it had been less than a week for him. Something was definitely amiss with the island, it altered one’s concept of time and distance.
Speaking of distance....
“How is Genichirou? Really?” The query was earnest, and once the words were past his lips Yukimura realized just how badly he wanted the answer.
Well it took Yukimura 20 minutes longer than what Yanagi expected to make the question. He sighed quietly. “He’s fine.” He said sharply and stayed quiet for a moment. “He worsened his shoulder injury when we made our way out of the sinking cruise but after Hiroshi and Oishi threatened him, he recovered.” If Yukimura was going to find out Sanada was plotting to take a suicidal mission to get help (and possible bringing Yanagi along), he was not finding it out from him. Most likely from Niou.
The former captain raised a quizzical eyebrow at Renji. Fine didn’t necessarily mean fine; it was the assurance one tended to give another when he didn’t want to appear weak. He’d told the other two he was fine for weeks before collapsing, paralyzed by numbness everywhere and barely able to breathe. Nevertheless, fine was what Renji offered and, for the moment, Yukimura accepted it. “All right. How do we help him continue to recover?” He would see Sanada soon enough and assess his condition for himself.
There was one more important question that needed asking, and Yukimura steeled himself in case the answer wasn’t the one he sought. “You and I,” he gestured vaguely back and forth between them, “we’re okay?”
“You could tie him to a tree; but I highly doubt that that would teach him to not be idiotically stubborn.” Yanagi could see what Yukimura true intentions were. “He is fine, Seiichi. As fine as we can be in this island. I knocked him off when we got here and then Hiroshi and Jackal took care of him with painkillers; not spending his whole afternoons reclused in a dojo helped him too and he’s not risking to damage his katana too much, so he won’t train with it unless it’s strictly necessary. He’s fine. Have I ever lied to you?” He didn’t try to hide his annoyance in the matter.
“About the other question, why wouldn’t we be?” Alright, there was the matter that Yukimura had decided that he mattered keeping with his tennis career than finding out if they were alive but Yanagi wasn’t an example of keeping touch as well. The fact he kept track of everything in... unorthodox (or legal) methods didn’t count as ‘keeping in touch’ since the other couldn’t know. Yanagi placed his hand over his knees, holding his breath. This island had proven itself as a place for old unresolved feelings to be revived, to explode. He knew it was a matter of time before something happened between his two closest friends (besides some common sense being beaten into Sanada), something that wouldn’t include him. There were so many unknown factors he wouldn’t dare to make an estimate of what might happen.
There had been no intended offense, only a desire to know. As if speaking Genichirou’s name had been the key to a Pandora’s box, the urge for information came bursting from the cage in which it often dwelled these days. Renji’s opinions were ones he respected very deeply, but Yukimura also knew that with having more direct contact with Genichirou than he for some time, Renji’s protectiveness would extend around Sir Stubborn. He shook his head, looking down at the rock floor. “I don’t think you would lie directly to me, no. That’s not something I’d ever believe of you.” Yukimura’s eyes lifted, violet-grey and serious through the curtain of eyelashes and wavy hair. “Only that you might not be telling me everything. Genichirou will fight every enemy of straw there is to get his physical condition back, but we both know that can come at the expense of his soul. Is he fine there, too, Renji?” The syllables of Yanagi’s personal name lilted in the air between them.
A smile curved Yuki’s mouth, knowing and a tiny bit resigned. “You’re answering a question with a question, which usually means you don’t want to talk about it.” He reached over and patted Yangi’s hands where they rested atop his knees. “It’s my first instinct to be upset about what’s happened--virtually marooned on an island--and the fact that I’m likely missing the US Open still hasn’t processed. Give me a few days and there will be a guaranteed meltdown.” The flame of ambition inside him desperately tried to kindle, to light afire the body in which it lived; for now, he dumped a bit more metaphorical water on it, not wanting to upset the aura of acceptance he had, with surprise, found in himself. “But, it seems I’m here for a reason, and if you and Genichirou are my reasons, I’m okay with that.”
“For you asking about Genichirou’s soul you should be completely aware of the state of your own, Seiichi”. Yanagi answered not looking up from staring the little bottles. “You’ll have time in here. I... I’m not happy to see you here in some way, for your sake not for mine. I know how you dislike enclosed spaces and an island will never be big enough for you.” He reached to change the bottles back the way he put them in the first place but decided against it in the end. “Missing the US Open will definitely ruin your impeccable score so far but your popularity in the circuit will increase in 43% at least. I could give you a better estimate if I could access the current media but I haven’t been able to do so yet.” Yanagi placed his hand on top of friend’s. “When everything finally sinks in, I’ll be here Seiichi...” He said quietly looking at the other’s eyes. “And I will bring Genichirou for you to use as a punching bag.”
But for whatever happen in the times to come and how their relationships would evolve, Yanagi didn’t even dare to take a guess.
These were uncomfortable things of which Renji reminded him, so much like the former numbess in his extremities, Yukimura ignored it. Would he melt down? Yes he would, and it likely wouldn’t be pretty. It...wasn’t precisely claustrophobia, but a fear of being contained. Being limited. Being bound by those horrid wires and machines and unable to breathe for himself....
Nope, not going there. Ever. Again.
“You always are, Renji.” If his voice wasn’t as strong as a moment ago, Renji was too polite to comment, Yukimura noticed. “Even when you manage to get information about me from the TMZ-wannabes on 4-chan.” He didn’t know all of Renji’s sources, but that one he’d figured out.
Yanagi smirked a little clearly stating ‘Bitch, please’. “Of course.” He stood up since his legs were starting to feel numb. “I can trust you enough to not make something completely reckless or stupid if I’m not around, Seiichi? As crowed this island is and even if there’s always someone watching, there are quite a few dangerous hobbies...” He said leaning into the cave wall “...like tasting plants to see if they’re poisonous or cliff jumping that might lead to severe injuries/death. If you need your adrenaline fix only a championship match can give you, please think beforehand if I would approve it. We have two doctors in training, a nurse and a pharmacist in here but that doesn’t guarantee bringing someone back to life.Boredom is such a dangerous thing, indeed...” Yanagi said drifting to his own thoughts.
“If I can’t identify plants, my mother would be very disappointed in me.” That brought another pang, nothing to do with claustrophobia. He missed his father, his grandmother, even Sachiko-chan, but it was different with Mum. They...understood each other, in ways the rest of the family didn’t quite follow. (Sachiko had, at around seven, announced that she would never learn to cook and would instead marry a man like Sei-nii who was good at it. To this day, she burned water and never rinsed rice.) “I’ll see if I can’t put a crimp in the plant-licking.” He glanced over at the rope. “And I’ll stop the cliff diving, if I can tie people up.” For now, he’d keep a lid on his own adrenaline needs...and think before cliff diving.
“That’s... kinkier than I expected, Seiichi” Yanagi arched an eyebrow. “I’m not completely sure if Genichirou would be into that sort of thing, to be honest”.
“We tried once, but I started laughing. Ruined the mood.” Eyebrow, meet smirk and his good friend, total fabrication. No, Genichirou wouldn’t be much for bondage. Or...well, a lot of things that /were/ /not/ /happening/ in this conversation. It had to be the island and Renji’s previous mention of unresolved things running his hormones in laps.
“That’s easily fixable, Seiichi... with a gag.” Yanagi replied back. He sometimes wished his data wasn’t as accurate as he knew it was. He knew it was just a tease since if that had been reality, a very freaked out Genichirou would have run to his doorstep seeking for advice. Yet, it showed how the feelings he knew existed inside of his friend were already resurfacing. How would everything unfold from now on? Yanagi could feel the realization of one of the fears that had him cutting ties during college, everyone moving on, was slowly creeping back. He needed a smoke. “Materials to make an improvised one are always near, Seiichi. I could help you paint it yellow with black stripes for the sake of old times.”
“Tease,” Yukimura shot back, though he well knew it was no tease. If he expressed a desire for such a thing, Renji would be there beside him...improvising. That, much like the jump from the tree, was comforting...though in a way that probably made sense only to him. Even without coming face-to-face with Genichirou for confirmation, Renji’s energy, his aura, was still the one he knew. Three had become one and three again, but the Troika was intact. Stretched thin over space and time, but...intact.
Teleportation wasn’t possible, and yet it always seemed so when Yukimura simply conquered another of the Troika’s personal space. Long arms wound around Renji’s chest, forehead pressed against his shoulder. Quiet, potent, asking nothing but to share the space and give comfort. “Yellow and black sounds just right. Thanks.”
Yanagi silently nodded back.It felt right, having Yukimura back. It was selfish and self centered and just right. Even if the constant training in the pro circuit had given his friend a different build, it felt familiar. Yukimura’s essence was still the same too. Only by having such an intimate physical closeness, Yanagi realized how much he missed the other one. He awkwardly embraced the other back. “Everything is going to be alright, Seiichi.”
And even if he didn’t quite believe it, he will make it true for them.
Location: The forest and then the caves
Time: July 14, immediately following Yukimura's intro post
Rating: PG, maybe
Summary: Parasailing gone bad crashes Yukimura on the island. Yanagi rescues. Sex Hilarity Sexual hilarity Sadly, none of the above Reunion and island infodump ensue in equal parts smooth and awkward. 2/3 Troika FTW? And Japanese homonym title pun, OTL
For just a moment after the impact, Yukimura Seiichi lay sprawled in a tangle of nylon and tree branches (Juniperus bermudiana, the back of his mind told him). The shoulder pieces of his harness hugged the span with subtle tension, the snared parasail about two meters higher in the juniper’s embrace. Siri, as she all too often did, nattered on in her choppy diction, and Yukimura slid a finger over the phone’s power button. That might take him off the metaphorical grid, but Renji said he knew where he was. Renji said he would come. If Renji said it, there was no grid required. A pickaxe, a compass and night goggles, and Renji could find a single star in a billion galaxies. Seiichi knew that, knew and believed it to his bones.
There were questions--questions with no answers, questions with painful answers--certain to come, but those could wait until the world got larger again. In the past hour or so, it had shrunk from the entire planet and a Wimbledon victory so sweet he could still taste it to the span of a single Bermuda cedar.
Yanagi checked his phone again. He had spent enough time in that island to identify the path he was running walking through without even looking. Yes, he was wondering how in earth Yukimura had caught himself pry of the wind to end in this ill-fated island, but... weirder stuff had happened in the last few months. The priority was to ensure the other’s safety; Kite’s traps were all over the place after all. He turned to the left and then turned right; if he wasn’t mistaken Yukimura should be around 10m ahead in...
Oh there.
“Good to see you again, Seiichi”.
Yukimura heard the sounds of motion approaching, the rhythm of steps once familiar as his own. Despite himself, he smiled; they were changed, Renji’s steps, accounting for the greater height all of them now carried.
Even seven years later he still thought of ‘them’ as the three, bonded and bound together as body, mind and soul to make up one. Yet, that one had splintered back into three, three paths and three destinies running parallel but no longer quite together. No longer quite touching.
He closed his eyes against visions of three sets of footprints dividing from a single one, holding his breath and waiting for the comforting sound of Tokyo on another’s tongue. He spoke and heard English so frequently now that he’d almost forgotten that peculiar lilt in his personal name discernible only when the syllables were curled in Kanagawa.
Yukimura opened his eyes and peeked down through the sprays of foliage, conscious of the tethers keeping him bound. “It’s been a while, Renji.” He blinked, then that wry smile emerged, wreathed in sunshine. “You’re taller. Again. I just can’t catch up, can I?”
Yanagi chuckled. “Our growth rates didn’t have even a point of comparison after my growth spurt in middle school, Seiichi. Not that being slightly short was any impediment for you to coward any tall and menacing adversary.” He smiled slightly. “You could say you can look down on me now, though.” The light went through the foliage, making all kind of shadows of green over his friend. Yanagi must had assumed that if Yukimura was ever going to end up stuck in this island, he would definitely fall from the sky. He took his cellphone out and took a picture of the hanging man. “This is something I should keep a tangible memory of.”
Yanagi eyed critically the surroundings. It seemed safe of any undesirable surprise. “Are you alright? Can you sense any injury I can’t see from here?” He asked quietly already half climbing to reach the ropes of the parasailing. They had formed several knots with the trees’ branches; the easiest way to free his friend was to cut them loose but there had been an injury as a broken bone, he needed to take precautions first.
“Travel the planet a bit more and you’ll soon find short and tall are relative.” Seiichi had been 175cm in his third year, a not-diminutive height in Japan, and topped out at 180cm, just shy of six feet. Nevertheless, in the US he was often dwarfed by other athletes. Standing next to Kevin Durant at a Nike event had been humbling. “I think I was just masochistic enough to choose two sequoias for best friends.” He flailed his hands, as best he could, in protest of the photo. “Let me pose, at least. You’re as bad as the paparazzi.” There was no heat in his words, only tease.
A quick self-analysis resulted in a shake of Yukimura’s head. “Just my pride, my self-respect, and my connection with reality, I think. Everything seems to move as it should. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but that happens when you crash into a tree.” And wasn’t this old times in an object lesson nutshell? Tangled and unable to get free, and it’s Renji who is sorting order from my chaos, Yukimura thought. “I’ve got a rope around my left ankle, but I don’t think it’s knotted. I just can’t reach it.”
“I think I prefer being referred as ‘Willow’ instead of sequoia, Seiichi.” Yanagi moved and adjusted some of the branches along with the rope around them; then, he reached for the thickest one on the top to balance his weight, hanging like that he could was facing his long-time friend. “It’s good to see you again, even if it is under such... unfortunate circumstances.” He smiled slightly before cutting loose the rope, which rearranged itself seeking its natural course. Yes, they have new rope now.
That meant that his friend was going down, though.
“As you wish, ‘Willow’.” The English version carried much less accent than Seiichi’s junior high pronunciation, and a smile that was older, wiser, and full of fondness. “I was just thinking how fitting it is, you being the one here to save me, so to speak.” More able to move now, he wiggled his shoulders, bracing his foot in the juncture of branch and trunk. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”
The carabiner holding the bulk of his harness together fought to stay closed, but with determination Yukimura wrenched it open. He shrugged out of each half of the harness with Renji’s help, careful not to overbalance and bring both of them out of the tree. “With Atobe’s ship not being commercially registered, it took a while for the disappearance to be reported, at least overseas. How long have you been here?” There was the whole matter of Siri finding a wifi signal in this wilderness, but somehow that seemed a less important question.
“73 days 7 hours.” Yanagi frowned. “That’s definitely not the time I expected to be, but I guess that discussing my theory of being inside of a parallel universe where time/space are ruled by randomness is not to be discussed while hanging of a tree.” He tested the harness resistance with his foot. “Many.... things have passed since we got into that ship. You’ll love the haunted giraffe wallpaper stories, I’m sure. Do you want to go down the safe way or the fun way?”
A wicked gleam shot through Yukimura’s lavender-grey eyes, full of mischief. “Given those choices, I’ll take fun every time.” Haunted giraffe wallpaper? That sounded so much like one of Genichirou’s paranoias it almost hurt. “...he came on the cruise with you, didn’t he?” There was no need to state who ‘he’ was.
Yanagi smiled slightly. “I knew you were going to choose that one.” He shifted the main ropes that held the harness in place and hook one leg around the new makeshift safety line. Yanagi looked up to see if they have enough rope to reach the ground to avoid tearing the parasailing. It was going to be short by approximately 2m. He mentally shrugged, it was close enough. “Let go on the count of three, Seiichi.” Holding his weight with one arm, he passed the other one around the other’s waist. “One... two... three...” With a final strong tug the rope, the harness gave up and they were failing.
It never occurred to Yukimura not to jump. If Renji proposed the plan, he’d already calculated the chance of success versus injury and the odds were favorable. A controlled fall was far preferable to a spinning parasail. Besides, in this he wasn’t alone (well, Siri had been with him before, but an iPhone voice only went so far). It was amazing both how strong and how brave one could be with that assurance.
The fall wasn’t far, the adrenaline greeting him with glee on the way down. The rope held, but the branch did not; in a tumble of arms and legs and fluttering nylon they found the ground, breathless and laughing. “That,” Yukimura declared between giggles, “is why I always take the fun way. Nice landing.” He ran his hand over Renji’s shoulder, reluctant to move again so quickly. It didn’t occur to him at the time that Renji hadn’t answered his question about Genichirou.
“More than landing, I believe it was falling with style.” Yanagi said chuckling. He was feeling nice and warm and everything seemed brighter. It was a side effect of Yukimura’s laugh. He had noticed that back in junior high; the time they were stricken by the blunette’s sickness had been the darkest coldest times he remember ever experienced in Rikkai. He put a hand over the one in his shoulder, then he took it off to pass it through his hair (it was longer now). “As I see you have no rescuing equipment at all with you, so I can safely assume you’re not here in a rescuing mission gone wrong. Before I feel offended of you not trying to look for us... how is it that you didn’t took the cruise? It was safely apart from this season’s Grand Slams...”
“If it was a rescue, I’d have brought an aircraft carrier.” It was impossible to describe the contentedness surrounding him. By all logical conclusions, he was stuck there, as Renji and many others had already been for 73 days. He should be upset, angry, Yukimura thought, and yet he wasn’t. “My manager. He intercepted the ticket Atobe sent, didn’t tell me about the cruise, and I was so determined to beat Djokovic that I wasn’t paying attention to much else. Then, after Wimbledon, he decided to send me on a cruise to ‘relax’. We docked in Bermuda, I went parasailing with what turned out to be the shoddiest outfit in Bermuda. The rope broke, the wind did the rest and here I am.”
“I expected something like that from him. You said you knew we were missing, though...” Yanagi stood up trying to de-tangle himself out of the mess, his voice cold. “I can assure you won’t be playing against Djokovic in a near future...” He offered a hand to help the other up. “Let’s pick this up, I’ll take you to the caves...”
“...it took approximately a month for the story to break, it’s my guess Atobe’s people were trying to sort it on their own before then and not worry their shareholders or customers.” Word had come right around the French Open, what with Atobe and Tezuka’s absences; the previous contentment drained into self-recrimination. He’d hurt Renji, and that was something that needed mending. “I should have scratched Wimbledon, but everyone I tried to talk to said the government was handling it, that the Americans would have their Navy and Coast Guard investigate. I should have known that in an election year the Americans have other priorities, especially with none of their citizens involved.”
Yukimura took the proffered hand, getting to his feet in a graceful motion. He met Renji’s eyes, indecision in his own for the span of a breath, and then he bowed low at the waist. ”Moushiwake arimasen.” Those weren’t easy words to say, the humblest and most abasing form of apology in their language, and though he did try to be a good Buddhist Yukimura Seiichi was not a humble man by nature.
Yanagi was taken aback for a second. He definitely didn’t see that coming. Yukimura tended to be as prideful and stubborn as Sanada sometimes. Even more if it involved tennis in some way. It felt right, though; he should have done something more than hearing the news of their disappearing and hope for the best case-scenario to unfold. They were more than friends, they were family. Yanagi rubbed his temples already sensing a headache coming, between Sanada being painfully stubborn and this new arrival (and its consequences)... it was indeed a mystery how he still kept his sanity.
“I’m perfectly aware the importance of tennis on your life Seiichi, just... do a thorough check up in your priorities. Come on, let’s go the camp.” He put a hand over the other’s shoulder before taking it away and looked over the parasailing. “This might be handy, please help me to fold it? I don’t think there might be much salvageable things on the boat anymore...”
He wasn’t necessarily forgiven yet, but his words and their sentiment had been heard and accepted. With a small exhalation of relief, Yukimura stood upright again. “Mum wanted to put your photos in the family altar so she and Granny could pray for your souls, but I refused. Somehow, I knew you both were out here somewhere.”
The garish green, red and blue parasail lay in a heap at the bottom of the cedar, much like they had only a few moments ago. A couple of tugs brought down the remaining ropes and hardware, then Yukimura gathered up one end of the sail, tossing the other towards Renji. A few coordinated folds later yielded a stack of parasail, ropes, and carabiners, all of which would doubtless come in handy. He gathered it up, patting his pocket to be sure Siri was still there. “Lead the way.”
The onetime captain took in the surroundings as they walked, making a few mental notes on where fruit-bearing plants were and the path towards their metaphorical camp. Just how many people were on this island? He thought he caught a glimpse of Tezuka skulking through the underbrush, a flash of silver hair that was likely Niou, a few faces he half-recognized but which didn’t spark an immediate response. Each Rikkai one, though, tightened the possessive noose of ‘mine’ around his heart; some things never changed for him.
“Currently there are 46 people in this island,” Yangi started predicting what must be in his friend’s mind “with very different reasons of why they ended up in here. The most logical explanation is that this island has some sort of attracting force to any person related to japanese tennis that somehow crossed paths 5-8 years ago. If you think that sounds absurd, you just have no idea...” They were arriving to the beach already. “Everyone from Rikkai is physically alright, being the most vulnerable Genichirou and Akaya with the injuries they got before the cruise and that the ill-fated conditions we’re living under haven’t help for their complete recovering. On the emotional side... well, it seems that being allowed to spend time together had stirred some old unresolved feelings.” He huffed, annoyed.
“I’m afraid this isn’t a five star hotel as the one you’re used to, but the caves have worked perfectly as shelter so far...” He said motioning the entrance of the cave. “Do you want to take a look?”
“That...wow,” Yukimura mused, watching a bundle of loud and spastic cross their path (Seigaku’s Momoshiro, he though). “It sounds like the plot of a B movie, but...truth is stranger than fiction, hmm?” The sun had begun to slant westward--at least that was Yukimura’s guess, cardinal direction seemed hard to gauge with certainty--and the number of shadows along the beach suggested Renji’s number wasn’t exaggerated. “How are they both? I haven’t seen Akaya since his arthro.” That answered his earlier question, though belatedly: Genichirou was here. The pang resonated through him, sharp and swift; Renji’s annoyance seemed to indicate he hadn’t noticed Yukimura’s lapse. “Oh?” he said, finding his voice. “So how is Inui-san?” The teasing note was in his voice, but dark eyebrows slanted down over his eyes with curiosity and concern. If anything was old and unresolved, it was that tangle of feelings.
With a blithe shrug and a nod, Yukimura stepped forward to see inside. “It reminds me a little of that ill-fated camping trip we took after winning the first Nationals. How long did we last again before giving in and calling our parents?” He grinned back over his shoulder and ventured deeper into the cave’s mouth.
Oh shit. Well, it wasn’t as Yukimura didn’t suspect Sanada was in there as well (and the fact that Yukimura- san had considered placing them in the family altar had been really thoughtful and slightly dramatic and suggested they were together when the ship went missing). After all the capslocking the night before with Sanada, Yanagi felt tempted to say all that he knew but decided against it in the end. It was not his job to tell and Yukimura would know about it eventually. The mention of his other friend pulled him off his thoughts, though. “Uh? Sadaharu? He’s fine, excited with all the new ingredients to put into his juices, so he has been... busy. Akaya is dealing with his his inner emotional turmoil.” Yanagi shook his head, trying to clear his head.
Now, taking a good look over the caves, they did look like a nice camp. After spending more than two months in them, they held some sense of ‘home’. He pointed at one of the caves that was next to Sanada’s and his. “You could take this one if it pleases you, we’ve have enough sheets/pillows and first necessity items you might need, so don’t worry about them.” he grabbed a couple of pillows and sheets from his own cave. “We’ve more experience now that we had back then, and it took us 2 days 3 hours 24 minutes to finally give in. It would have been less if Genichirou hadn’t confiscated our phones after finding Bunta texting Akaya complaining in real time about our camp.” He smiled slightly.
“Oh, we use sheets as doors too, Seiichi. Privacy is appreciated in the times of primal urges."
Note to self: Inui Sadaharu is still a valid distraction for Yanagi Renji, even when the latter doesn’t quite recognize it. Yukimura hid a smile behind one hand, thinking not for the first time how odd and nostalgic this island was proving to be. Renji’s theory about the island attracting tennis players seemed sound, what with his own strange arrival. If so, what was the overall purpose? Was it similar to a video game, and they all had to level up before they could go home? Who could tell?
The indicated cave seemed comfortable enough, as far as caves went, and Yukimura stacked the parasail and rope along one grey rock wall, more or less claiming it as his. “Thanks, Renji.” Clearly the space had thusfar been unoccupied by human inhabitants, and even knowing how many friends and former acquaintances were milling about the island, a retreat to call his and his alone was welcome. Even someone as social as Yukimura Seiichi needed time and space to himself.
“‘Primal urges’?” Yukimura couldn’t help repeating with a snicker. “You know you can’t drop a bombshell like that and leave me hanging, ‘Professor’. Who’s doing whom?”
“I tell the sin not the sinner, Seiichi.” Yanagi answered, an amused tone in his voice. “You will find out eventually...” Seeing as the cave was being claimed by the blunette, he proceeded to place the sheets as makeshift futon. “The island is getting more crowded with every passing day. Somehow. Seigaku usually wander around the beach being loudly; Hyotei, Rokkaku, Yamabuki and... others can be find... anywhere really. Some sort of community has been formed I supposed. Kite Eishirou’s base is the farthest known part of the jungle. I would recommend you not to wander alone over there, he has all kinds of traps. I believe to protect himself of the stupidity of some individuals in here...” He pulled out from a pillowcase a couple of bottles with shampoo and soap over a nice flat rock. When Yanagi finished, he stayed there kneeling on the cave’s floor. I would prefer you being anywhere but here, Seiichi. “That’s pretty much everything I can tell you without you starting being boring you since your attention rate will decrease if I tell you the statics of this place...”
“Names or it didn’t happen,” Yukimura shot back, all wide smile and wry humor. “If there are as many urges going around as you’re indicating, I don’t see how I can remain blissfully ignorant.” Pause. “Is there a betting pool yet? I’d like to know what the odds are.”
He hummed a bit absently, arranging the items from Renji first by size, then changing to by color. “Then don’t tell me just statistics. Tell me what I need to become supreme overlord in three days.” Yukimura tapped his index finger against his bottom teeth, thinking a few things through. “Probably the best thing I can do is cook. I noticed that there are Surinam cherry trees here. The fruit can be hit or miss as to tart or sweet, but this will address both preferences.”
Yanagi laughed. “Oh I wish I could remain blissfully ignorant. You see, caves have echo.” He chuckled at his friend rearranging everything and fought back the urge of changing it back. “Seiichi, you don’t need me to ask me. We both know you’ll take over with or without my help. There are a few people gifted in the cuisine department and the tool make-shifting department as well. I trust you saw the huts outside? If you can make desserts I’m pretty sure you will have Akutagawa Jirou gravitating around you. You will need to find something to do, though. This place... is... surprisingly boring after the first three days.”
“Can I make desserts?” He couldn’t resist a playful poke or two at Renji’s midsection. “In school I think my cookies were responsible for every extra gram I could tack on you. I’m still not as good as Mum, I don’t know if I ever will be, but...she’s had a lot more practice than me.” Excessive down time, that was a worry niggling in the back of his mind. Foraging, that he could do. Identifying plants, also a worthy skill. But that only took up so much time, and...what of the one who ranked even higher than Siri on his list? “...there isn’t a place to play tennis here, is there?” That came out a bit more desperate-sounding than it had in his head, Yukimura thought with an inner scowl.
“Yeah well... tennis deprived tennis players would have thought of a tennis court at some point. There is a makeshift court that Krauser and Ibu made. You’ll have plenty of adversaries, Echizen for example.” Yanagi smirked slightly. “There isn’t any racquets nor balls, though.”
“You wound me! Tennis with no racquet or balls.” Yukimura wasn’t even sure how that would work, but doubtless in a few days he’d be out there running with the rest of them. The grass at Centre Court suddenly seemed a world away, even though it had been less than a week for him. Something was definitely amiss with the island, it altered one’s concept of time and distance.
Speaking of distance....
“How is Genichirou? Really?” The query was earnest, and once the words were past his lips Yukimura realized just how badly he wanted the answer.
Well it took Yukimura 20 minutes longer than what Yanagi expected to make the question. He sighed quietly. “He’s fine.” He said sharply and stayed quiet for a moment. “He worsened his shoulder injury when we made our way out of the sinking cruise but after Hiroshi and Oishi threatened him, he recovered.” If Yukimura was going to find out Sanada was plotting to take a suicidal mission to get help (and possible bringing Yanagi along), he was not finding it out from him. Most likely from Niou.
The former captain raised a quizzical eyebrow at Renji. Fine didn’t necessarily mean fine; it was the assurance one tended to give another when he didn’t want to appear weak. He’d told the other two he was fine for weeks before collapsing, paralyzed by numbness everywhere and barely able to breathe. Nevertheless, fine was what Renji offered and, for the moment, Yukimura accepted it. “All right. How do we help him continue to recover?” He would see Sanada soon enough and assess his condition for himself.
There was one more important question that needed asking, and Yukimura steeled himself in case the answer wasn’t the one he sought. “You and I,” he gestured vaguely back and forth between them, “we’re okay?”
“You could tie him to a tree; but I highly doubt that that would teach him to not be idiotically stubborn.” Yanagi could see what Yukimura true intentions were. “He is fine, Seiichi. As fine as we can be in this island. I knocked him off when we got here and then Hiroshi and Jackal took care of him with painkillers; not spending his whole afternoons reclused in a dojo helped him too and he’s not risking to damage his katana too much, so he won’t train with it unless it’s strictly necessary. He’s fine. Have I ever lied to you?” He didn’t try to hide his annoyance in the matter.
“About the other question, why wouldn’t we be?” Alright, there was the matter that Yukimura had decided that he mattered keeping with his tennis career than finding out if they were alive but Yanagi wasn’t an example of keeping touch as well. The fact he kept track of everything in... unorthodox (or legal) methods didn’t count as ‘keeping in touch’ since the other couldn’t know. Yanagi placed his hand over his knees, holding his breath. This island had proven itself as a place for old unresolved feelings to be revived, to explode. He knew it was a matter of time before something happened between his two closest friends (besides some common sense being beaten into Sanada), something that wouldn’t include him. There were so many unknown factors he wouldn’t dare to make an estimate of what might happen.
There had been no intended offense, only a desire to know. As if speaking Genichirou’s name had been the key to a Pandora’s box, the urge for information came bursting from the cage in which it often dwelled these days. Renji’s opinions were ones he respected very deeply, but Yukimura also knew that with having more direct contact with Genichirou than he for some time, Renji’s protectiveness would extend around Sir Stubborn. He shook his head, looking down at the rock floor. “I don’t think you would lie directly to me, no. That’s not something I’d ever believe of you.” Yukimura’s eyes lifted, violet-grey and serious through the curtain of eyelashes and wavy hair. “Only that you might not be telling me everything. Genichirou will fight every enemy of straw there is to get his physical condition back, but we both know that can come at the expense of his soul. Is he fine there, too, Renji?” The syllables of Yanagi’s personal name lilted in the air between them.
A smile curved Yuki’s mouth, knowing and a tiny bit resigned. “You’re answering a question with a question, which usually means you don’t want to talk about it.” He reached over and patted Yangi’s hands where they rested atop his knees. “It’s my first instinct to be upset about what’s happened--virtually marooned on an island--and the fact that I’m likely missing the US Open still hasn’t processed. Give me a few days and there will be a guaranteed meltdown.” The flame of ambition inside him desperately tried to kindle, to light afire the body in which it lived; for now, he dumped a bit more metaphorical water on it, not wanting to upset the aura of acceptance he had, with surprise, found in himself. “But, it seems I’m here for a reason, and if you and Genichirou are my reasons, I’m okay with that.”
“For you asking about Genichirou’s soul you should be completely aware of the state of your own, Seiichi”. Yanagi answered not looking up from staring the little bottles. “You’ll have time in here. I... I’m not happy to see you here in some way, for your sake not for mine. I know how you dislike enclosed spaces and an island will never be big enough for you.” He reached to change the bottles back the way he put them in the first place but decided against it in the end. “Missing the US Open will definitely ruin your impeccable score so far but your popularity in the circuit will increase in 43% at least. I could give you a better estimate if I could access the current media but I haven’t been able to do so yet.” Yanagi placed his hand on top of friend’s. “When everything finally sinks in, I’ll be here Seiichi...” He said quietly looking at the other’s eyes. “And I will bring Genichirou for you to use as a punching bag.”
But for whatever happen in the times to come and how their relationships would evolve, Yanagi didn’t even dare to take a guess.
These were uncomfortable things of which Renji reminded him, so much like the former numbess in his extremities, Yukimura ignored it. Would he melt down? Yes he would, and it likely wouldn’t be pretty. It...wasn’t precisely claustrophobia, but a fear of being contained. Being limited. Being bound by those horrid wires and machines and unable to breathe for himself....
Nope, not going there. Ever. Again.
“You always are, Renji.” If his voice wasn’t as strong as a moment ago, Renji was too polite to comment, Yukimura noticed. “Even when you manage to get information about me from the TMZ-wannabes on 4-chan.” He didn’t know all of Renji’s sources, but that one he’d figured out.
Yanagi smirked a little clearly stating ‘Bitch, please’. “Of course.” He stood up since his legs were starting to feel numb. “I can trust you enough to not make something completely reckless or stupid if I’m not around, Seiichi? As crowed this island is and even if there’s always someone watching, there are quite a few dangerous hobbies...” He said leaning into the cave wall “...like tasting plants to see if they’re poisonous or cliff jumping that might lead to severe injuries/death. If you need your adrenaline fix only a championship match can give you, please think beforehand if I would approve it. We have two doctors in training, a nurse and a pharmacist in here but that doesn’t guarantee bringing someone back to life.Boredom is such a dangerous thing, indeed...” Yanagi said drifting to his own thoughts.
“If I can’t identify plants, my mother would be very disappointed in me.” That brought another pang, nothing to do with claustrophobia. He missed his father, his grandmother, even Sachiko-chan, but it was different with Mum. They...understood each other, in ways the rest of the family didn’t quite follow. (Sachiko had, at around seven, announced that she would never learn to cook and would instead marry a man like Sei-nii who was good at it. To this day, she burned water and never rinsed rice.) “I’ll see if I can’t put a crimp in the plant-licking.” He glanced over at the rope. “And I’ll stop the cliff diving, if I can tie people up.” For now, he’d keep a lid on his own adrenaline needs...and think before cliff diving.
“That’s... kinkier than I expected, Seiichi” Yanagi arched an eyebrow. “I’m not completely sure if Genichirou would be into that sort of thing, to be honest”.
“We tried once, but I started laughing. Ruined the mood.” Eyebrow, meet smirk and his good friend, total fabrication. No, Genichirou wouldn’t be much for bondage. Or...well, a lot of things that /were/ /not/ /happening/ in this conversation. It had to be the island and Renji’s previous mention of unresolved things running his hormones in laps.
“That’s easily fixable, Seiichi... with a gag.” Yanagi replied back. He sometimes wished his data wasn’t as accurate as he knew it was. He knew it was just a tease since if that had been reality, a very freaked out Genichirou would have run to his doorstep seeking for advice. Yet, it showed how the feelings he knew existed inside of his friend were already resurfacing. How would everything unfold from now on? Yanagi could feel the realization of one of the fears that had him cutting ties during college, everyone moving on, was slowly creeping back. He needed a smoke. “Materials to make an improvised one are always near, Seiichi. I could help you paint it yellow with black stripes for the sake of old times.”
“Tease,” Yukimura shot back, though he well knew it was no tease. If he expressed a desire for such a thing, Renji would be there beside him...improvising. That, much like the jump from the tree, was comforting...though in a way that probably made sense only to him. Even without coming face-to-face with Genichirou for confirmation, Renji’s energy, his aura, was still the one he knew. Three had become one and three again, but the Troika was intact. Stretched thin over space and time, but...intact.
Teleportation wasn’t possible, and yet it always seemed so when Yukimura simply conquered another of the Troika’s personal space. Long arms wound around Renji’s chest, forehead pressed against his shoulder. Quiet, potent, asking nothing but to share the space and give comfort. “Yellow and black sounds just right. Thanks.”
Yanagi silently nodded back.It felt right, having Yukimura back. It was selfish and self centered and just right. Even if the constant training in the pro circuit had given his friend a different build, it felt familiar. Yukimura’s essence was still the same too. Only by having such an intimate physical closeness, Yanagi realized how much he missed the other one. He awkwardly embraced the other back. “Everything is going to be alright, Seiichi.”
And even if he didn’t quite believe it, he will make it true for them.