Rating: PG-13
When: Last Night
Where: On the island
What: Sanada attempts to cheer Yukimura up about their situation
Sanada searched the cabinets and gathered items into his backpack to take onto the island. He wanted to actually roast fish over an open fire rather than in the kitchens. He grabbed some of the remaining vegetables and a cutting board, sliding them in. Once the rice clicked off, he scooped its contents into a container and set it among everything else.
Taking one last look around the pantry, Sanada closed the door behind him, shouldered the bag, and made his way down to Yukimura’s cabin on deck one.
Flipping through his sketchbook, Yukimura fought the urge to frown. Ocean, ocean, ocean. Slanted tennis court, slanted tennis court, slanted tennis court. Palm tree, palm tree, palm tree. Rinse, lather, and repeat. All dreadfully monotonous and evidence of his boredom, Yukimura had half a mind to burn them all.
He’d save them though...just in case they need kindling to start a fire later on.
The navy-haired teen sighed as he shut it. He was not supposed to be here still, those sketches were never supposed to have been drawn. Fate worked in such mysterious ways. A knock jarred him from his thoughts, and he rose to open the door.
“Hey,” Yukimura greeted with a small smile at the familiar face. “Dinner time already?”
Sanada nodded at Yukimura’s question. Looking at his best friend, he could tell this “trip” was wearing on him just as it was himself. “I thought we would eat on the island tonight,” he started, tapping the strap to his bag. “Unless, you’d rather go to the kitchens again.” The boat, as nice as it was, could only allow for so much before one went crazy. The longer they stayed, the more he wanted to strangle Atobe.
“We can build a fire and you can draw something new.”
Sometimes, Yukimura tended to forget that Sanada could read his mind with just a look. Renji was no different. They always just knew. Smiling, Yukimura stepped back to let Sanada into his room. “That would be lovely, except I’m out of paper. I might make a mural out of sand though. What do you think?”
He fished through his now thoroughly messed up suitcase, digging for a swim suit. The change of pace would be nice and break through the black and white of what their lives had become since the ship wreck. “Give me a second. I need to change,” Yukimura said softly as he ducked into the bathroom.
Sanada leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, waiting for Yukimura to finish. Both the boats should be back by now; stealing one for an off-ship dinner wouldn’t be that big of a deal.
“Are you sure there’s no more paper? I mean, you didn’t find any counting notecards and rose colored linens?” Sanada knew that despite the repetitiveness of the scene, Yukimura couldn’t resist drawing something. “Hey, grab the bottle of sake as you pass your minibar,” he called into the room.
“Lined paper doesn’t work as well, and doodling on something with Atobe’s face on it just feels almost like a waste already don’t you think?” Yukimura mused as he came back out, pulling a lilac shirt over his head. Normally he hated such girly colors, but with little clean clothing left, he didn’t have much of a choice.
Heeding Sanada’s advice, Yukimura grabbed two, not one, bottles of sake. He picked up his backpack, placing a blanket in it, then the bottles so they were cushioned. He scanned the room once more and picked up a light jacket to stuff in there as well. “Anything else we need?”
“You would be wasting your effort trying to make decent art out of his face,” Sanada quipped. It was kind of amusing to see Yukimura in that color, but they were both running low on clothes, so there wasn’t much of a choice. At least, until they broke down and started doing their laundry in the river.
He glanced around the room trying to think of anything. “A blanket or two,” he replied. “I know you’ll get cold.” Plus, the blankets would further cushion the sake. Why Yukimura grabbed two bottles was curious, but he didn’t want to say anything until they were on the island.
Yukimura had already stuffed one blanket in his backpack, but two had never hurt anyone, so he grabbed another and stuffed it in. “I think we’re ready to go,” he said, grabbing one of his headbands off his dresser and pushing it through his hair. Slipping a pair of flip-flops on, he waited for Sanada to exit his cabin as well before shutting the door.
“So have you already caught our dinner or will we be doing that when we get there?” Yukimura asked curiously as they walked towards the boats.
Sanada slowed until Yukimura was walking at his side. “Everything’s in my bag,” he said. “Fish included.” He didn’t want to spend time fishing not knowing whether or not he would catch anything.
Arriving at the boats, he slipped the bag off of Yukimura’s shoulder and climbed down into the small vessel setting the bags in the middle. He sat down and grabbed the oars, waiting for Yukimura to get in and seated before he cast off.
Yukimura raised an eyebrow at the way Sanada took his bag, but said nothing as he dropped into the boat and sat opposite of him. “Do you need help?” He asked, noting his best friend’s hands on the oars. “I don’t want to make you do it all by yourself.”
Sanada unhooked the boat from the larger ship and started moving toward the shore. He caught the look in Yukimura’s eyes and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said. “The waves will make the trip easier.”
“If you say so,” Yukimura simply replied. During the short trip, he stared out at the endless waves and willed a boat to pop up to take them back. Unfortunately, they had no such luck and soon were climbing out of the boat and onto the shore.
Yukimura shouldered his backpack once more and sighed as he felt soft sand sink and shift under his weight. “Any suggestions for a good spot Genichirou?”
Sanada pulled the boat onto shore more so the tide wouldn’t take it back out. Satisfied, he pulled his backpack out and started walking down the beach. “This way, Seiichi,” he said, catching Yukimura’s wrist and pulling him along.
Chuckling, Yukimura shook his head. “You can hold it you know,” He teased as he slipped his wrist out of Sanada’s grip and replaced it with his hand. Leading his best friend on a little, but Sanada’s hand was warm, comforting, and distracted his thoughts away from the tennis he should be playing. “I don’t mind.”
Sanada smiled briefly and squeezed back. He led them further along the shore until the river came into view. “Here’s a good spot,” he said, setting down his bag. He gave Yukimura a look before letting go of his hand and gathering up some rocks to turn into a makeshift firepit.
“Did you pack a lighter?” he asked, setting some dry grass and twigs into the middle of the rocks.
Yukimura blinked. Why on earth would he own a lighter? Settling down in the grass, he dug through the remnants from his emergency kit in the front pocket and tossed Sanada a box of matches. “That should work,” He called out. Yukimura tucked his legs up underneath him and surveyed the area. It truly was a beautiful spot. “Tell me what I can do to help.”
Sanada struck a match and started the fire. Digging through his bag, he pulled out the fish and the skewers, fixing them up for roasting.
“While I roast the fish, do you want to prepare the forest?” he asked, nudging his backpack toward his friend. “I stole a cutting board and a few knives. There’s some rice in there too.”
“I can do that,” Yukimura replied with a smile. Only Sanada called a salad a forest. He reached for Sanada’s backpack and pulled it towards him. Taking out the cutting board and the knife, he also pulled out a bowl to put the finished salad in.
“What made you decide to have dinner out here?” Yukimura asked curiously as he began to tear lettuce leaves.
Fanning the flames and adding in more dry materials, Sanada looked past Yukimura at the ship in the distance. “Eating over there day in and day out was getting old. Plus, it just serves to remind me that we aren’t home. Over here, I can think about Yokohama.” He poked at the fire some more before dropping his gaze from the boat to look at Yukimura. “We needed to get away from there.”
Nodding at Sanada’s reasoning, Yukimura focused on his task. He had never been one for voicing his worries or troubles, feeling that he had done enough of that when he was sick to last a lifetime, and he was not about to start now. Finished with the lettuce, he began chopping cucumbers and peppers.
“It’s so beautiful here.” Yukimura settled on saying. “So peaceful too.”
“It’s not home,” Sanada said firmly, moving more toward the fire and holding the fish over the flames. Nor was it a tennis court or a dojo. He was starting to hate it. Days going by with no sign of rescue, despite being told there would be, was wearing on his patience. As evidenced by his post to Atobe the other day.
“It’s not,” Yukimura stated calmly. “But we must work with what we have.”
Cucumbers and peppers joined the lettuce in the bowl, and he started on a tomato. They were lucky to still have fresh produce. Yukimura did not know what he would do when they ran out.
“I know,” Sanada said gruffly, turning the fish over. It was starting to smell good. He gave a sideways glance to the salad and then up to Yukimura. He didn’t really know what to say. He couldn’t possibly try to spin this positive when he wasn’t exactly feeling it himself. “How’s the salad coming?” he finally asked.
Yukimura looked up from the carrots with a soft smile. “Your forest is coming along wonderfully,” He teased, eyes dropping back down to focus on his task. It would not do to lose a finger or a hand due to carelessness. If something like that were to happen, Yukimura thought about how he might just drown himself in the ocean.
Losing tennis twice in his life might break his heart and spirit completely. Life would not be worth living.
Shaking his head of such morbid thoughts, Yukimura added the carrots and looked for mushrooms in the backpack. “The fish smells good Genichirou.”
“It’s almost ready,” Sanada said, putting both skewers into one hand to pull his backpack over and pull out two plates. By the time it was done, Yukimura would be done with the salad. “You need anything else out of here?”
Yukimura pulled out the rice. “I think that’s it,” He replied with a smile. Tossing up the salad, he set aside and started to dish the rice out onto the plates. Finished with the task, the former buchou laid back on his elbows and watched the sunset.
Sanada pulled the fish away from the flames and set them upon the rice. Deciding it would be best if he let it cool, he scooted across the sand to sit next to Yukimura. He brought up his knees to his chest and rested his arms on them. “The sunset looks different here than on the boat. Less fake.”
“I like the way the colors blend together,” Yukimura agreed. It would be a stunning yet typical watercolor. If he got extremely bored, perhaps he would dig around for paper one day and paint it. “And the way it reflects off the surface of the water.”
Letting them sink into silence, he was content to just be for a moment. They were not fighting nor picking at each other, and it soothed him.
After a few more long stretches of silence, Sanada reached back and picked up their plates. “Here,” he said, setting the fish and rice on Yukimura’s lap. He grabbed the salad and set it between them and leaned over to grab Yukimura’s backpack and the sake hidden inside. Pouring two cups, he held one out. “You plan on going through both?” he asked with a slight laugh.
Yukimura clicked his cup against Sanada’s before taking a long gulp. “Of course not,” he replied with a sly smile. “You’re going to help me.”
Setting the cup in the sand next to him, he picked up his chopsticks and pulled off a small piece of fish. The second he popped it into his mouth, he sighed happily. “Delicious Genichirou.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Sanada said, tearing a piece off and scooping it and some rice into his mouth. Man, the absent chefs had nothing on his skills. Setting the plate down, he grabbed some of the salad and put it on his plate.
In no time at all, Sanada was halfway through his meal. He refilled his cup and Yukimura’s before leaning back in the sand and resting for a moment.
“Thank you,” Yukimura murmured as he ate and drank quietly. There were no words, Sanada already knew everything he wanted to say without him even having to open his mouth. Sitting like this was comforting, easy. He did not want to ruin it.
Taking another long drink, he finished his fish and dished himself some more salad as he slipped off his shoes and curled his toes in the sand.
Sanada finished his food as the sun dipped past the horizon. Setting his plate aside, he laid down on the sand and rested his arms underneath his head. The sky looked different here too. “Do I need to open the second bottle?”
Yukimura flopped down next to him once he had finished. Rolling on his side, Yukimura studied Sanada. “Maybe not just yet,” he decided. He was, after all, quite the light weight, and already he could feel the alcohol thrumming slightly through his system. “You look so relaxed.”
Sanada hummed. “Being calm is preferable to pissed off,” he said. Feeling Yukimura’s eyes on him, he turned to face him. “You look exhausted.”
“Do I?” Yukimura replied, genuinely curious. He slept well for a few hours, but it was not home and this was nowhere near where he wished to be. “What on earth gives you that idea?”
“You do,” Sanada said, looking back up at the sky that was increasingly getting darker and peppered with stars. “This is wearing you out. I’m not oblivious. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t tell?”
Humming, Yukimura rolled on his back. All of the stars made him remember the night Sanada had pointed out constellations and lots of laughter. Memories. Now they were working on extended memories, not torture by any means, but they were supposed have gone their separate ways by now.
“You don’t think fate would take tennis away from me twice do you?” Yukimura finally asked softly.
Sanada paused for a moment, then rolled onto his side. He looked at Yukimura for a long moment before punching him lightly in the shoulder. “Idiot.” Yukimura fought too hard for the gods to be cruel and take away tennis. They would be rescued eventually, Sanada was sure of that.
He laughed lightly, blindly reaching out and punching him back. “It was just a question Gen-chan,” Yukimura quipped back. All the same, he was more than grateful for the release in the tension. “Like you don’t worry about not getting what you want most too.”
They deserved to be playing the matches they played at grand slam finals, not on a slanted broken tennis court for the rest of their lives.
“You didn’t say it was rhetorical,” Sanada replied, pausing for a moment. “We won’t be here forever.” He sunk back into the sand. They couldn’t. He wanted to play Yukimura in front of the world, not just the Japanese circuit. “I have infinite patience, remember?” he said, giving Yukimura a wan smile.
Rolling on his side, Yukimura’s eyes studied Sanada’s face. His best friend certainly had infinite patience. God only knew how long he had waited for him. And even now, confessing had not given him what he had wanted. “Genichirou....” Yukimura started softly. “How long are you going to use that patience to wait for me?”
Sanada blinked a few times. “As long as I need to,” he finally answered. The way he figured, they would still be friends and over time, it would get easier. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. “Even if nothing ever comes of it.”
Reaching over, Yukimura punched him lightly in the arm. “Idiot.” He simply said, copying Sanada’s movements from before. They applied just as well to this situation. Sanada deserved to be happy, not to wait for him for ages and ages.
Even if he was afraid that once his friend lost the crush, they would lose their relationship all together. There was also the fact that he had thoughts of wanting to kiss Sanada.
Distractions.
Yukimura gave him a small smile and reached out to push dark strands off of his face. “Don’t be like me,” he teased.
“I’m not,” he said. “Unlike you, my mind is not so one-tracked.” Tennis was tennis and friends were friends. Merging the two was great and all, but Sanada knew when to keep them separate. He only hoped that Yukimura would do the same.
“It’s not a bad thing though...You being just focused on tennis. Less...complications and distractions.”
Fighting the urge to laugh, Yukimura sat up and pulled his backpack towards him. He grabbed one of the blankets before settling back down close to Sanada and throwing it over them. “You’d think that, but considering our situation...” He meant both their personal relationship and the whole shipwreck mess. “For now, it is surprisingly complicated and distracting.”
Sanada looked over at Yukimura as the blanket settled on them. “If we weren’t here, it wouldn’t be that way because you wouldn’t have to think about unnecessary things.” And really, his crush was utterly so in the whole scheme of things. Sighing, he propped up a knee, letting the blanket slip off. “I thought I was doing good, too...”
“I don’t think that.....” Yukimura propped his head up on his elbow as he thought. The former buchou didn’t even really know what he thought. Except that he wanted to kiss Sanada. Again. Trying to push the nagging urges away, he continued, “You are doing well. I just think we’ll both do better when we’re....”
Apart. Yukimura did not even bother to finish the sentence.
“Right,” Sanada said slowly. He knew exactly what Yukimura meant. Once they were back home, he would be lucky to see Yukimura if they were playing the same tournaments or if they happened to go home at the same time.
“One day,” Yukimura mused as he rolled on his stomach, staring at the fire. “We’re going to be in the finals at Wimbledon, and it’s going to last over eleven hours.” He smiled at the thought, chin in his hands. “I want to make history with you.”
Sanada smirked a little at that, remembering the match that had taken place only a few days ago. “Every tournament. We’ll break our own records.” He fell silent after that, letting the crackle of the fire and the sounds of the jungle fill the gaps.
“The tennis world has no idea what we’re about to do to it,” Yukimura replied confidently. He intended to not just win a grand slam, but two, three, maybe even four in a row. “Maybe Nike or Adidas will be so kind as to make me a stronger, more durable headband.”
Once we get there... Sanada kept the thought to himself, deciding to focus on the other comment. “It might have to be made of metal, though that would slow you down. I’ll cut through any fabric that you place on your head.”
Yukimura couldn’t help but laugh. “Or,” He raised an eyebrow in Sanada’s direction as he spoke. “You could just stop ripping things off of me all together. Problem solved.”
“It’s an easy target,” Sanada countered. It gave him something to focus on and get better. Not to mention it gave him tangible memories.
“You know most people aim for a target actually on the court to score points,” Yukimura pointed out teasingly. “Not articles of clothing a person wears.” Sanada went for his headbands, Akaya used to always go for people’s body parts. Again, he was reminded by how alike they truly were.
“Distractions,” Sanada said with a teasing smile. If Yukimura was caught off guard by the headband, then he could score on the next point. Sure, it only worked for one point, but he always felt like a better player afterwards.
Sanada had such a nice smile, Yukimura thought briefly. “What will you do if I stop wearing it?” He quipped right back. A hand came up and removed his headband, tossing it on the sand. “See? How ever will you do to score points now?”
He picked it up and stretched it between his hands. “Hmm,” Sanada started. “It’s all just training. On the international stage, I won’t need such things to score against you.” He slipped off his hat and put the headband on in its place. “I like my hat more.”
Yukimura chuckled. He picked up Sanada’s hat and placed it on his head. “You have a big head Genichirou,” he teased as the hat slipped slightly sideways. It needed to be tightened, but he did not want to ruin the fit for his best friend. “I like my headband more.”
Sanada laughed. “You look ridiculous.” It was better than exhausted though.
Reaching over, he plucked his hat off of Yukimura’s head and tugged the headband out of his hair, depositing the elastic on Yukimura’s stomach. “We’ll stick with our respective headwear.”
“I think that would probably be for the best.” Yukimura agreed. Instead of putting it back on his head, he wrapped it around his wrist, much like the wrist weights they used to wear constantly. Still wore constantly.
Rolling back on his side, Yukimura reached out and adjusted the brim of Sanada’s hat. He let his hand fall and their conversation stall as he simply looked at his best friend, soaking in the memory.
Sanada stared for a long moment, the fire still bright enough for him to see the look on Yukimura’s face. The temptation to kiss him was terribly strong right then, but he willed himself not to. He sat up and grabbed his cup, draining the sake in one go.
Yukimura watched Sanada intently, calm and content expression on his face. He could see the conflict in his eyes, much like a storm, and the way he guzzled the sake told Yukimura just exactly what he was fighting. Little did he know, Yukimura was fighting the exact same urges.
Swallowing as he sat up, the navy-haired teen drained his cup as well and stared back at Sanada for a very long moment. The debate in his mind only lasted a second before he just decided to give in and do what they both had wanted to do for weeks. They both needed the comfort after all.
“I’m sorry I know I shouldn’t....” He murmured softly, moving so that he was sitting directly in front of Sanada. The boundaries were clearly defined, his best friend would know this did not mean a relationship or even that they would do this ever again. Tennis would always be first. His hands came up, cupping Sanada’s face, and he took a deep breath before closing the gap between them and brushing their lips together.
No no no. This was going to get his hopes up and it would be that much harder. Surely Yukimura knew that, but it was nice and Sanada didn’t really want to stop. They just fit. It couldn’t last though and he reached up, putting his hands on Yukimura’s arms and pushing him away.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “You don’t understand what that does to me.”
Yukimura felt something akin to a pang somewhere inside of him, and he wondered if this is what Sanada felt every time he rejected him. He may not have understood what it did to his best friend, but he understood what it did to him. Though the kiss lasted barely an instant, it had felt like an electric current was running through his body, leaving tingly, awakened nerves in its wake like a particularly good tennis match.
He did not know if it was because it was Sanada or really just the one of the first times he had kissed anyone.
“You think too much Genichirou,” he finally said, lavender eyes meeting Sanada’s gaze.
“I think just enough,” Sanada said, tugging down the brim of his hat to shadow his eyes. It really wasn’t fair, but he understood that unless he literally became tennis, there wasn’t any other place for him in Yukimura’s life besides being his friend slash stepping stone. Scooting back a little, he turned toward the fire and poured himself another cup of sake.
“I don’t think alcohol is going to make it better,” Yukimura said softly over the crackle of the fire. Grabbing his blanket, he wrapped it around himself tightly and stared at the flames. Sanada’s smiles and laughter were gone, stern face set back into place, all because he had given in.
This was why tennis was so much better. Tennis was all black and white with no gray area in between. Yukimura found himself hating the gray area with a passion.
Sanada held the cup in both hands and nodded. “I’m not drowning my sorrows or anything like that.” He glanced over at Yukimura and sighed. This wasn’t the dinner he had planned. Setting the mug down, he reached up and took off his hat.
“Seiichi,” he said, bending the brim slightly, “if you can sit there and honestly tell me you didn’t feel anything, I’ll drop it.”
Yukimura did not say anything for a long moment. There was the honest answer, and there was answer he knew he should give in order to protect his best friend’s heart. He recalled their conversation in comments about being honest and sighed, throwing a small stray twig into the fire.
“You know I did,” he turned his head to face Sanada. “I just don’t know what it means.”
That was enough, Sanada thought. He could have bragged or given Yukimura a cocky smirk, but neither seemed appropriate. His best friend was confused and it really was his fault. “You’ll figure it out,” he said, putting his hat on Yukimura’s head. “Whatever happens, or doesn’t, you’re still my best friend.”
Smiling despite himself, Yukimura straightened the hat and leaned against him. “We’ll be okay Genichirou,” he replied softly. They had been through tough moments before and they would face them in the future. Hopefully, playing record breaking tennis matches and taking the world by storm. “We always are.”
Even though he probably shouldn’t, Sanada snaked an arm around Yukimura’s shoulders and pulled him close. “If not, I’ll toss you in the pool or the ocean. Whichever’s closer.”
Yukimura reached over and poked Sanada’s stomach with a laugh. “I’ll bring you in with me.” He teased. “Especially if you decide to do the idiotic shoulder toss move.”
“You shouldn’t set yourself up to get put over my shoulder in the first place,” Sanada countered with a happier lilt to his voice. He glanced down at Yukimura, his hat covering whatever expression was there. Pushing up the brim, he leaned in and kissed Yukimura. He could deal with the consequences later.
Just when he thought they were back to normal, Yukimura felt Sanada’s hand on his hat and then his lips were pressing up against his once more. He did not understand why or how or what had changed, but he willed his brain to just shut up for a moment so he could shift a little and kiss Sanada back.
The electric current returned in full force as their lips softly brushed against each other’s. Hopefully, he would not get pushed away again.
Sanada hummed and pulled away slowly. He rested his forehead on Yukimura’s shoulder, willing his heart to calm down for just a bit. He hadn’t been pushed away and he didn’t feel the need to do the same. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t leave things how they were.”
Smiling softly, Yukimura brought a hand up to card through his hair. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he whispered as he rested his head on top of Sanada’s. For a minute, he thought about how Renji should be here as well. Not for the kissing part, but times like this when they needed a third person to fill the gaps they sometimes could not fill on their own. “We’re fine.”
“Hn,” Sanada said, content to stay put for a long moment. He could imagine Renji hiding a chuckle if he could see them now and possibly tell them with exact certainty that he expected this. He laughed a little at the thought. Maybe things wouldn’t be so awkward now. That would be really nice.