PoT: Captured
A sequel of sorts to an earlier drabble, 'Escape'.
Captured
by omi
In the end, Yukimura got tired of waiting. He sent his loyal henchmen, Renji, Yagyuu and Jackal to capture the truant Sanada and bring him before him for judgement, chastisement and punishment, in roughly that order.
They brought him, if not exactly bound and struggling, then at least sullen and ashamed, to his recovery bed. Sanada blinked, trying to adjust to the gloom and darkness in Yukimura's room, peering at the shrouded figures lining the room. "Seiichi?" He blinked and squinted at the key central figure stretched out languidly on the bed.
A soft light clicked on, providing a warm cast of light over the room.
Yukimura laid back on his bed, the light imparting a soft glow to his skin, his hair. A bound Kirihara and Renji knelt before him, meek and quiescent. A slender pale hand tangled in the black locks of Kirihara's hair while unamused eyes look directly at Sanada.
The fuku-buchou faltered, taking a step back before bumping into the solid wall of bodies created by Niou, Yagyuu and Jackal.
Marui waited by the side, a quiet witness to everything.
"Sanada," Yukimura's voice, cool and melodious, broke the silence. "I have been waiting for you to come to see me ever since the Kantou finals. As you can see, I got tired of waiting." He paused.
"Why did I have to send people to fetch you, my fuku-buchou?"
Sanada quailed.
The voice, soft and terrible in its gentleness, continued its relentless litany. "Do you know how sad it makes me, that not only did our school lose the top position in the Kantou Tournament, but that my own fuku-buchou, the one person I depended on to lead the team in my place while I am indisposed could not come and tell me to my face that we lost? That I am forced to ask our teammates to go bring you to see me?"
"Have you any idea how sad that makes me?"
Sanada crushed his cap between his hand. His voice, when it came was almost unrecognisable when he finally spoke. "I... I failed you, Seiichi. The Kantou... was within my reach. And I lost it."
Yukimura's fingers stilled their slow play with Kirihara's locks. He pushed himself slowly up into an upright sitting position, his face completely sober.
"You. Still. Don't. Get. It." He ennunciated each word precisely. He leaned forward, as if to whisper to Sanada, and Sanada found himself bending lower to better catch his buchou's words.
"I am not angry because Rikkai lost, you stupid stubborn lunk!" hissed Yukimura. "If you lost because of carelessness, I would suspend you from playing for a week and make you write a thousand word essay on the perils of underestimating your opponent. If you lost because you weren't as focused as you should be, then I would make you run laps, and train ten times harder. If you lost because your opponent was simply better, we would sit together and work out a way to get better, to improve, to beat him the next time we meet. Losing is not the point!"
A thin finger poked violently at Sanada's chest.
"I am angry because you didn't trust me!"
"Do you even remember what is Rikka tennis team about? It is Strength! Hard work! Trust! Teamwork! Unity! Did any of this occur to you while you were holed up alone, feeling sorry over your loss to Seigaku? Did you think about what your teammates were feeling, with a fuku-buchou that is missing in action? Did you stop to think how I would feel, that my own second-in-command could not even come to see me, his buchou?"
Yukimura leaned back onto his bed, eyes flaring with a strange light. "You," he pronounced with a terrible air of finality. "You are going to learn all over again, what it means to be in the Rikkai tennis team, Sanada Genichirou."
Captured
by omi
In the end, Yukimura got tired of waiting. He sent his loyal henchmen, Renji, Yagyuu and Jackal to capture the truant Sanada and bring him before him for judgement, chastisement and punishment, in roughly that order.
They brought him, if not exactly bound and struggling, then at least sullen and ashamed, to his recovery bed. Sanada blinked, trying to adjust to the gloom and darkness in Yukimura's room, peering at the shrouded figures lining the room. "Seiichi?" He blinked and squinted at the key central figure stretched out languidly on the bed.
A soft light clicked on, providing a warm cast of light over the room.
Yukimura laid back on his bed, the light imparting a soft glow to his skin, his hair. A bound Kirihara and Renji knelt before him, meek and quiescent. A slender pale hand tangled in the black locks of Kirihara's hair while unamused eyes look directly at Sanada.
The fuku-buchou faltered, taking a step back before bumping into the solid wall of bodies created by Niou, Yagyuu and Jackal.
Marui waited by the side, a quiet witness to everything.
"Sanada," Yukimura's voice, cool and melodious, broke the silence. "I have been waiting for you to come to see me ever since the Kantou finals. As you can see, I got tired of waiting." He paused.
"Why did I have to send people to fetch you, my fuku-buchou?"
Sanada quailed.
The voice, soft and terrible in its gentleness, continued its relentless litany. "Do you know how sad it makes me, that not only did our school lose the top position in the Kantou Tournament, but that my own fuku-buchou, the one person I depended on to lead the team in my place while I am indisposed could not come and tell me to my face that we lost? That I am forced to ask our teammates to go bring you to see me?"
"Have you any idea how sad that makes me?"
Sanada crushed his cap between his hand. His voice, when it came was almost unrecognisable when he finally spoke. "I... I failed you, Seiichi. The Kantou... was within my reach. And I lost it."
Yukimura's fingers stilled their slow play with Kirihara's locks. He pushed himself slowly up into an upright sitting position, his face completely sober.
"You. Still. Don't. Get. It." He ennunciated each word precisely. He leaned forward, as if to whisper to Sanada, and Sanada found himself bending lower to better catch his buchou's words.
"I am not angry because Rikkai lost, you stupid stubborn lunk!" hissed Yukimura. "If you lost because of carelessness, I would suspend you from playing for a week and make you write a thousand word essay on the perils of underestimating your opponent. If you lost because you weren't as focused as you should be, then I would make you run laps, and train ten times harder. If you lost because your opponent was simply better, we would sit together and work out a way to get better, to improve, to beat him the next time we meet. Losing is not the point!"
A thin finger poked violently at Sanada's chest.
"I am angry because you didn't trust me!"
"Do you even remember what is Rikka tennis team about? It is Strength! Hard work! Trust! Teamwork! Unity! Did any of this occur to you while you were holed up alone, feeling sorry over your loss to Seigaku? Did you think about what your teammates were feeling, with a fuku-buchou that is missing in action? Did you stop to think how I would feel, that my own second-in-command could not even come to see me, his buchou?"
Yukimura leaned back onto his bed, eyes flaring with a strange light. "You," he pronounced with a terrible air of finality. "You are going to learn all over again, what it means to be in the Rikkai tennis team, Sanada Genichirou."