RP Log: Kirihara Akaya & Yukimura Seiichi
Rating: G
When: Night of the bon-fire.
Where: Kirihara's meditation spot.
Summary: Yukimura makes good on his dare.
Toes dug into the sand that was still warm from the day time’s sun as Kirihara waited for Yukimura to return Hiyoshi had been a good distraction for a short while, but it still sucked waiting around. Buchou had said stay, and so he had...for a few good hours now. It was kind of a stupid dare, to ask Yukimura to sleep in the same bed as him, it wasn’t like it was something they hadn’t ever done before, but Kirihara would take it and run with it.
He brushed too long, messy curls out of his eyes and stared out over the water, watching as the waves crashed and tore at the sand. It was calming, in a weird sort of way but it made Kirihara’s face scrunch up. That kind of stuff was a little bit too poetic for him, even if he was feeling a little whimsical or whatever. With a heavy sigh he laid back in the sand deciding to focus on the sky instead of the water.
Yukimura better hurry.
Tugging up his annoyingly long hair as he padded along the beach, Yukimura couldn’t help but smile as he spotted Akaya. Always the stubborn child, he was still in exactly the same place the former buchou had left him. If that did not speak of dedication, he did not know what did.
Yukimura plopped down next to his successor and reached out to ruffle his head. “You’re not asleep yet are you?”
“Mmm, no--” Kirihara shook his head. “--Waiting for you.” Finally. Green eyes rose up to look at Yukimura, he was wet, but not soaked in blood. That was good, Kirihara hadn’t beaten Sanada yet so that meant he couldn’t die.
“Did you kill dad?” He asked, an amused smile on his face at how Sanada would probably have killed him if he heard him refer to him in that way. He sunk back into the sand, feeling comfortable as warm grains stuck to him as he waited for Yukimura to answer.
Yukimura hummed as he leaned back as well, elbows digging into the sand to keep himself propped up. “Not quite,” he admitted. “He was adequately punished though.”
His toes pushed at the sand beneath his feet as he turned his head to look at Akaya. “How was the rest of your night?”
“Piyoshi or whatever his name and I had a little buchou bonding time.” Subconsciously, Kirihara reached up and felt the knot on his forehead, it was getting bigger. “Rikkai won.” He looked over at Yukimura and then back up to the stars over them. “As expected.” He dropped his hand, resting them both on his stomach comfortably.
Yukimura chuckled. He could only imagine what kind of ‘bonding’ the two little buchous had done. His eyes swept across Kirihara’s body and noted that he felt his forehead. That was where the damage had happened apparently. “I would have been very disappointed if you had not.”
“We don’t lose.” Kirihara stretched out in the sand, if he moved his arms he could have made a sand-angel. “You know that.” Yukimura did, just like Kirihara did. The mophead let out a heavy sigh and searched for the North Star, feeling stupid that he even was bothering to look for it.
It kept him occupied.
Of course he did. The troika had practically invented the iron laws of Rikkai. “Are you ready to go to bed Akaya?” It had, after all, been a long night. He reached over and pushed crazy curls up to survey the bump on his kouhai’s forehead. “And what did you give him in return?”
“One just as bad,” He grinned. “Well, worse. Like I said, we won.” He reached up to push away Yuki’s hands with a small laugh. “Is it that bad?” He asked, green eyes rolling to meet Yukimura’s violet ones. Yukimura really did look like a god with the midnight sky at his back, making his hair blend into it and the stars.
The thought made Kirihara shake his head.
“Yeah, yeah, lets go to bed.” He rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand.
“You’ll have a lump Akaya.” Yukimura replied with a smile. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn. “Next time, make sure to settle your disputes with tennis though.”
Leaning down, he held out a hand to pull Kirihara up with.
“It’s not my fault the idiot headbutted me.” Kirihara took Yukimura’s hand and hauled himself up using his captain as leverage. Once he was to his feet he reached up to rub at the bump on his head, carefully leaving one hand still laced with Yukimura’s to see how long he could get away with it.
“You want to go back to one of our shelters or somewhere else?”
“Let’s go grab pillows and blankets and sleep somewhere else.” Yukimura replied as they walked along the beach. He let the hand in his linger before gradually slipping it away a few minutes later. Kirihara did deserve some sort of reward for winning after all. “Do you have any ideas?”
Kirihara nodded in confirmation. His meditation spot would be perfect and off the beaten path. “Maybe we can make this a weekly thing.” He said hopefully, knowing chances were Yukimura would never really go for it but it was worth a shot.
He frowned when Yukimura’s fingers eventually slipped from his, but knew better to argue it as the approached the shelters. “I’ll get stuff.” He disappeared for a moment, coming out with arm fulls of blankets and pillows. “This way buchou.” He nodded in the direction he was going since he couldn’t point.
Yukimura followed the bundle of blankets. Deciding to give Kirihara a hand, he plucked a few pillows out of his arms to carry. “Where are you taking me?” He asked softly, shooting the shorter man a sidelong gaze. “Or is it a surprise?”
“No place special, just where I med-er-med..made space.” He wanted to slap his forehead at how lame that sounded but there was no turning back so he just went with it. “It’s just up here.” He struggled a little, climbing the somewhat steep slope with no hands but made it eventually. “Welcome to Paradise.” He gave his buchou a stupid smile and dropped his handful and started to spread out the blankets.
Akaya had picked a good spot to meditate, Yukimura thought. The view was certainly lovely, and he could not imagine a more soothing space. He refrained from saying anything though and simply helped Kirihara spread out the blankets. “It’s beautiful Akaya,” he finally said as they set the pillows up at one end of their pallet. “When did you find it?”
“I was exploring.” He attempted to run a hand through his hair, fingers getting tangled in the knots and curls in it. As soon as Yukimura finished spreading out the last corner of the blanket Kirihara spread himself out, hugging a pillow to his chest as he waited for Yukimura to get next to him. “I don’t think anyone else really knows its here.” Except for Sanada of course, given that he did spend some of his mornings meditating with the mop head.
“Ohhh, so here is the secret medit-hide out location,” Yukimura mused. He settled in next to Kirihara and pulled all of the covers over their bodies. Despite sleeping on top of a rock, it was surprisingly quite comfortable. Thank god for padded blankets. Glancing back over at Akaya, he smiled at the still growing bruise on his forehead. “We should have gotten you ice.”
Kirihara relinquished his hold on the pillow in favor of huddling closer to Yukimura as he settled near him. If Yukimura was dared to spend the whole night with him, he intended to take full advantage of it. “I think I’ll be okay. Spoils of war and that sorta thing.” Green eyes lifting, then squinting at the small pain the stretch of skin caused his glowing bruise.
Sighing, Yukimura wrapped his arms around Kirihara and set his chin on top of the unruly curly hair tickling his neck. It kind of felt like the time he napped with Sanada’s nephew, only Kirihara was much bigger than the toddler. “Next time, if you truly want to be victorious,” he murmured softly. “Make sure you end up with no marks on your person.”
Kirihara nearly melted against Yukimura when he pulled him closer. It felt comfortable and warm and was just the sort of thing he needed on this annoying island. “It was a cheap move, typical Hyoutei.” He puffed, letting his arm rest comfortably over Yukimura’s side.
The undivided attention was just what Kirihara needed.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get away with it next time though, buchou.” He smiled into Yukimura’s chest, arm tightening around Yukimura’s middle.
Yukimura fought back a wince as Kirihara squeezed his sides. After Atobe’s death grip and Sanada tugging him along, he was feeling a bit...tender. The pale skin would probably bruise in the morning, and oh how Atobe would pay. Squirming a little bit, he reached down to loosen Kirihara’s grasp.
“I’m not your teddy bear Akaya.”
“I don’t have a teddy bear.” He complained. He so did. Kirihara let Yukimura move his grip and adjusted against him letting out a sigh. Yukimura had a way of bring a calmness out of Kirihara like nobody else could (well, except mayb Yanagi). “Hey, buchou?” He asked after a few moments of comfortable silence. “Do you think we’ll make it home?” When the boat had first crashed Kirihara had celebrated it, but now he wasn’t sure what he thought.
Sure, being stranded with Sanada, Yukimura and Yanagi was great, but...the tennis team he was responsible for was back home and seasons waited for nobody.
A loaded question, Yukimura thought. He racked his fingers through black curls as he thought of a soothing and diplomatic answer. “When we are meant to make it home, we will make it home,” he replied softly. “Everything happens for a reason and change is constant so we must make the best of what we are given.”
The answer satisfied Kirihara, any answer coming from Yukimura would have. “More time to beat you.” He closed dark green eyes when Yukimura brushed at the nap of curls he had. “Not that I need it.” He assured, never wanting to belittle himself in front of any of the big three not to mention the rest of world.
Yukimura chuckled. “You’re going to need years Akaya.” A little teasing never hurt anyone, but they were about to sleep, and the former buchou did not want to get his sucessor all riled up all over again. Deciding to placate him, he continued, “But at least you’re better than Atobe’s protege.”
“Of course I am.” Kirihara opened his eyes long enough to roll them and then settled tightly against Yukimura’s form. Atobe needed to dare Yukimura to do this more often, it was nice.
“It wont take me years, buchou. I have fukubuchou on the run and before you know it I’ll be coming after you and Yanagi-senpai.” A satisfied smile sat on his lips. He truly believed he had the power to beat Yukimura...somewhere.
Yukimura smiled. It was that drive within Kirihara that would make him an amazing tennis player and leader. Never better than himself of course, but decent nonetheless. “I will stand corrected if a day comes where you prove me wrong.” Never. A small yawn escaped his lips and he curled more into the blankets.
“Get ready for it then.” Kirihara assured Yukimura, curling to him and pulling the blankets up around them as he rested his head against the curve of his captain’s bicep. If Kirihara lacked anything, it wasn’t determination. He had that and some to spare.
“So...so.....ready,” Yukimura hummed sleepily. A hand reached over his head to blindly grope for his cell phone, and he could barely keep his eyes open as he texted Sanada goodnight. He tossed his phone to the side when he was finished and slipped his eyes shut. “Good night Akaya.”
Kirihara wanted to argue that Yukimura should take him seriously, but all that came out of his open mouth was a yawn. “Night, Yukimura-buchou.” One more shuffle to make sure he was as close as possible to the older captain and Kirihara was out, breath falling heavier as sleep weight down on him.
When: Night of the bon-fire.
Where: Kirihara's meditation spot.
Summary: Yukimura makes good on his dare.
Toes dug into the sand that was still warm from the day time’s sun as Kirihara waited for Yukimura to return Hiyoshi had been a good distraction for a short while, but it still sucked waiting around. Buchou had said stay, and so he had...for a few good hours now. It was kind of a stupid dare, to ask Yukimura to sleep in the same bed as him, it wasn’t like it was something they hadn’t ever done before, but Kirihara would take it and run with it.
He brushed too long, messy curls out of his eyes and stared out over the water, watching as the waves crashed and tore at the sand. It was calming, in a weird sort of way but it made Kirihara’s face scrunch up. That kind of stuff was a little bit too poetic for him, even if he was feeling a little whimsical or whatever. With a heavy sigh he laid back in the sand deciding to focus on the sky instead of the water.
Yukimura better hurry.
Tugging up his annoyingly long hair as he padded along the beach, Yukimura couldn’t help but smile as he spotted Akaya. Always the stubborn child, he was still in exactly the same place the former buchou had left him. If that did not speak of dedication, he did not know what did.
Yukimura plopped down next to his successor and reached out to ruffle his head. “You’re not asleep yet are you?”
“Mmm, no--” Kirihara shook his head. “--Waiting for you.” Finally. Green eyes rose up to look at Yukimura, he was wet, but not soaked in blood. That was good, Kirihara hadn’t beaten Sanada yet so that meant he couldn’t die.
“Did you kill dad?” He asked, an amused smile on his face at how Sanada would probably have killed him if he heard him refer to him in that way. He sunk back into the sand, feeling comfortable as warm grains stuck to him as he waited for Yukimura to answer.
Yukimura hummed as he leaned back as well, elbows digging into the sand to keep himself propped up. “Not quite,” he admitted. “He was adequately punished though.”
His toes pushed at the sand beneath his feet as he turned his head to look at Akaya. “How was the rest of your night?”
“Piyoshi or whatever his name and I had a little buchou bonding time.” Subconsciously, Kirihara reached up and felt the knot on his forehead, it was getting bigger. “Rikkai won.” He looked over at Yukimura and then back up to the stars over them. “As expected.” He dropped his hand, resting them both on his stomach comfortably.
Yukimura chuckled. He could only imagine what kind of ‘bonding’ the two little buchous had done. His eyes swept across Kirihara’s body and noted that he felt his forehead. That was where the damage had happened apparently. “I would have been very disappointed if you had not.”
“We don’t lose.” Kirihara stretched out in the sand, if he moved his arms he could have made a sand-angel. “You know that.” Yukimura did, just like Kirihara did. The mophead let out a heavy sigh and searched for the North Star, feeling stupid that he even was bothering to look for it.
It kept him occupied.
Of course he did. The troika had practically invented the iron laws of Rikkai. “Are you ready to go to bed Akaya?” It had, after all, been a long night. He reached over and pushed crazy curls up to survey the bump on his kouhai’s forehead. “And what did you give him in return?”
“One just as bad,” He grinned. “Well, worse. Like I said, we won.” He reached up to push away Yuki’s hands with a small laugh. “Is it that bad?” He asked, green eyes rolling to meet Yukimura’s violet ones. Yukimura really did look like a god with the midnight sky at his back, making his hair blend into it and the stars.
The thought made Kirihara shake his head.
“Yeah, yeah, lets go to bed.” He rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand.
“You’ll have a lump Akaya.” Yukimura replied with a smile. He stood up and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn. “Next time, make sure to settle your disputes with tennis though.”
Leaning down, he held out a hand to pull Kirihara up with.
“It’s not my fault the idiot headbutted me.” Kirihara took Yukimura’s hand and hauled himself up using his captain as leverage. Once he was to his feet he reached up to rub at the bump on his head, carefully leaving one hand still laced with Yukimura’s to see how long he could get away with it.
“You want to go back to one of our shelters or somewhere else?”
“Let’s go grab pillows and blankets and sleep somewhere else.” Yukimura replied as they walked along the beach. He let the hand in his linger before gradually slipping it away a few minutes later. Kirihara did deserve some sort of reward for winning after all. “Do you have any ideas?”
Kirihara nodded in confirmation. His meditation spot would be perfect and off the beaten path. “Maybe we can make this a weekly thing.” He said hopefully, knowing chances were Yukimura would never really go for it but it was worth a shot.
He frowned when Yukimura’s fingers eventually slipped from his, but knew better to argue it as the approached the shelters. “I’ll get stuff.” He disappeared for a moment, coming out with arm fulls of blankets and pillows. “This way buchou.” He nodded in the direction he was going since he couldn’t point.
Yukimura followed the bundle of blankets. Deciding to give Kirihara a hand, he plucked a few pillows out of his arms to carry. “Where are you taking me?” He asked softly, shooting the shorter man a sidelong gaze. “Or is it a surprise?”
“No place special, just where I med-er-med..made space.” He wanted to slap his forehead at how lame that sounded but there was no turning back so he just went with it. “It’s just up here.” He struggled a little, climbing the somewhat steep slope with no hands but made it eventually. “Welcome to Paradise.” He gave his buchou a stupid smile and dropped his handful and started to spread out the blankets.
Akaya had picked a good spot to meditate, Yukimura thought. The view was certainly lovely, and he could not imagine a more soothing space. He refrained from saying anything though and simply helped Kirihara spread out the blankets. “It’s beautiful Akaya,” he finally said as they set the pillows up at one end of their pallet. “When did you find it?”
“I was exploring.” He attempted to run a hand through his hair, fingers getting tangled in the knots and curls in it. As soon as Yukimura finished spreading out the last corner of the blanket Kirihara spread himself out, hugging a pillow to his chest as he waited for Yukimura to get next to him. “I don’t think anyone else really knows its here.” Except for Sanada of course, given that he did spend some of his mornings meditating with the mop head.
“Ohhh, so here is the secret medit-hide out location,” Yukimura mused. He settled in next to Kirihara and pulled all of the covers over their bodies. Despite sleeping on top of a rock, it was surprisingly quite comfortable. Thank god for padded blankets. Glancing back over at Akaya, he smiled at the still growing bruise on his forehead. “We should have gotten you ice.”
Kirihara relinquished his hold on the pillow in favor of huddling closer to Yukimura as he settled near him. If Yukimura was dared to spend the whole night with him, he intended to take full advantage of it. “I think I’ll be okay. Spoils of war and that sorta thing.” Green eyes lifting, then squinting at the small pain the stretch of skin caused his glowing bruise.
Sighing, Yukimura wrapped his arms around Kirihara and set his chin on top of the unruly curly hair tickling his neck. It kind of felt like the time he napped with Sanada’s nephew, only Kirihara was much bigger than the toddler. “Next time, if you truly want to be victorious,” he murmured softly. “Make sure you end up with no marks on your person.”
Kirihara nearly melted against Yukimura when he pulled him closer. It felt comfortable and warm and was just the sort of thing he needed on this annoying island. “It was a cheap move, typical Hyoutei.” He puffed, letting his arm rest comfortably over Yukimura’s side.
The undivided attention was just what Kirihara needed.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get away with it next time though, buchou.” He smiled into Yukimura’s chest, arm tightening around Yukimura’s middle.
Yukimura fought back a wince as Kirihara squeezed his sides. After Atobe’s death grip and Sanada tugging him along, he was feeling a bit...tender. The pale skin would probably bruise in the morning, and oh how Atobe would pay. Squirming a little bit, he reached down to loosen Kirihara’s grasp.
“I’m not your teddy bear Akaya.”
“I don’t have a teddy bear.” He complained. He so did. Kirihara let Yukimura move his grip and adjusted against him letting out a sigh. Yukimura had a way of bring a calmness out of Kirihara like nobody else could (well, except mayb Yanagi). “Hey, buchou?” He asked after a few moments of comfortable silence. “Do you think we’ll make it home?” When the boat had first crashed Kirihara had celebrated it, but now he wasn’t sure what he thought.
Sure, being stranded with Sanada, Yukimura and Yanagi was great, but...the tennis team he was responsible for was back home and seasons waited for nobody.
A loaded question, Yukimura thought. He racked his fingers through black curls as he thought of a soothing and diplomatic answer. “When we are meant to make it home, we will make it home,” he replied softly. “Everything happens for a reason and change is constant so we must make the best of what we are given.”
The answer satisfied Kirihara, any answer coming from Yukimura would have. “More time to beat you.” He closed dark green eyes when Yukimura brushed at the nap of curls he had. “Not that I need it.” He assured, never wanting to belittle himself in front of any of the big three not to mention the rest of world.
Yukimura chuckled. “You’re going to need years Akaya.” A little teasing never hurt anyone, but they were about to sleep, and the former buchou did not want to get his sucessor all riled up all over again. Deciding to placate him, he continued, “But at least you’re better than Atobe’s protege.”
“Of course I am.” Kirihara opened his eyes long enough to roll them and then settled tightly against Yukimura’s form. Atobe needed to dare Yukimura to do this more often, it was nice.
“It wont take me years, buchou. I have fukubuchou on the run and before you know it I’ll be coming after you and Yanagi-senpai.” A satisfied smile sat on his lips. He truly believed he had the power to beat Yukimura...somewhere.
Yukimura smiled. It was that drive within Kirihara that would make him an amazing tennis player and leader. Never better than himself of course, but decent nonetheless. “I will stand corrected if a day comes where you prove me wrong.” Never. A small yawn escaped his lips and he curled more into the blankets.
“Get ready for it then.” Kirihara assured Yukimura, curling to him and pulling the blankets up around them as he rested his head against the curve of his captain’s bicep. If Kirihara lacked anything, it wasn’t determination. He had that and some to spare.
“So...so.....ready,” Yukimura hummed sleepily. A hand reached over his head to blindly grope for his cell phone, and he could barely keep his eyes open as he texted Sanada goodnight. He tossed his phone to the side when he was finished and slipped his eyes shut. “Good night Akaya.”
Kirihara wanted to argue that Yukimura should take him seriously, but all that came out of his open mouth was a yawn. “Night, Yukimura-buchou.” One more shuffle to make sure he was as close as possible to the older captain and Kirihara was out, breath falling heavier as sleep weight down on him.