RP Log: Kirihara Akaya & Sanada Genichirou
Rating: PG
When: late night Friday (9/24)/early morning Saturday (9/25)
Where: Sanada's cabin
Summary: Kirihara's birthday.
Kirihara rushed a little more quickly then he would have admitted to later once Sanada gave him the okay to come over and get his birthday present. Birthdays were great, everyone was nice to him, (for the most part), he got presents and it was easier to get away with things when you had the excuse that it was your birthday. He kind of wondered what Sanada got him, it wasn’t like there was a lot to give on the island or anything, but whatever it was it better have been good, he was making him come and get after all.
It was only a matter of moments before Kirihara found himself in front of Sanada’s cabin. “Fukubuchou...” Rikkai’s young ace peeked into the cabin that belonged to his senior hoping to get a sneaked glance at whatever his gift was.
Sanada finished going through the multitude of tennis rackets he was sent from this latest air drop and put them all in a stack next to his bag. The one for Kirihara sat on his lap, nicely wrapped by his mother. He heard footsteps approaching and gripped the package tightly -- he didn't want Kirihara to just grab it and rip it open.
"Akaya," he said evenly when the curly-haired teen poked his head inside. "You can come in."
“Is that for me?” It didn’t take long for green eyes to spy the wrapped package Sanada had in his lap once he’d slipped into the dimly lit cabin. He went through a list of everything that could have been in that box. It bothered him that it was kind of shaped like the ones his grandmother gave him which almost always contained some form of embarrassing clothing. Pajamas with footies so weren’t his style.
Sanada nodded and motioned for Kirihara to sit down. He could tell that the younger tennis player's mind was on hyper drive, trying to guess. Thinking it obvious, at least to himself, he slid the box onto the mattress in front of him. "Happy birthday, Akaya," he said. "I hope you enjoy it." Hell, Sanada would have kept it if it wasn't not to his specifications.
Kirihara gave Sanada a second glance, making sure it was really okay to tear away at the paper that had been neatly wrapped around the box. Please don’t be something lame. Kirihara chanted to himself as he peeled back the paper and lifted the lid to the box.
It was a Babolat.
But not just any Babolat. This was a Babolat AeroPro Drive GT. Kirihara just stared, it was perfect the yellow and black paint managed to gleem even in the shitty lighting of the shelter and Kirihara was pretty sure his cheeks felt wet.
“Fukubuchou....” Kirihara was pretty sure he was going to either be killed or never live down the next moment of his life. “I love you!” Only Kirihara would be stupid enough to launch himself at Rikkai’s stern Emperor and grab him in a tight hug he refused to loosen up on.
Sanada watched Kirihara open the gift carefully, unsure of what could be inside. It was slightly amusing, seeing his kouhai so nervous about a gift from him. He should have known better given all the previous years. However, he hadn't been expecting said kouhai to fling himself over the gap between them to give him a hug.
Unsure what to do at first, Sanada took a deep breath then wrapped both arms around Kirihara, patting him on the back. He was pretty sure the curly-haired tennis player was crying, but really, he couldn't hold it against him. He had cried when his grandfather gave him Murasame and when he got his first Babolat. It was completely understandable; they were amazing rackets.
"This will make you better. I picked it especially for you, Akaya," he finally said after it seemed Kirihara had calmed down just a bit. "You should use it against Yukimura when you play him." While he doubted Kirihara would get even a game, let alone a point, he was sure the new Rikkai buchou would benefit greatly.
Kirihara pulled back from Sanada’s broad shoulder looking a little weepy but refusing to wipe at his eyes because that would mean admitting he’d cried over a stupid present. “This is the best gift ever, fukubuchou.” He held the racket to his chest tightly and fell back against his senior completely at a loss.
It was a Babolat and he’d be stuck on that for a while.
Sanada caught him again and rubbed his back. "You're welcome, Akaya," he said. After letting Kirihara calm down some more, he gripped his kouhai's upper arms and pulled him away. He stared at Kirihara until the younger teen looked at him. "If you are to face him, you can't go up to the courts like this. It will be over before you even step onto the court." He tugged the racket out of his grasp and set it across the tennis player's lap. "Calm, Akaya."
Green eyes that were a little red around the edges met Sanada’s stern brown ones, they were a little softer then usual, Kirihara noted as he listened carefully to Sanada. The little devil nearly whimpered when the racket was pulled out of a vice like grip until he realized Sanada had no intentions of taking back the gift.
His fingers still ached to hold onto that grip and feel the perfect balanced weight in his hands.
“I know fukubuchou.” Just give me back my racket! He he held his tongue and wiggled in his seat a little. “We should play!” Giving a boy like Kirihara a racket and not letting him try it out was not going to happen.
Sanada reached up and put his hand in messy curls, ruffling them. He watched the look of panic flash in Kirihara's eyes then dissipate as he realized the racket was still in place. He had his own, he didn't need Kirihara's. It wasn't designed for him anyway.
"We can play after you've recovered from playing Yukimura," he said, taking one of Kirihara's hands and wrapping it around the handle of the racket. "Good luck, Akaya."
“You mean after I beat Yukimura-buchou,” he corrected. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He would beat Yukimura, between all of his training and the new racket, he had to. Kirihara figured that because it was his birthday, he might have a little extra luck on his side. (Not that he’d need it.)
Sanada nodded even though he wasn't convinced in the slightest that Kirihara would survive. Maybe he would make his way to the courts around the time Yukimura had said and watch. As it was, Kirihara needed sleep if he was to have any chance. He scooted over on the mattress and patted next to him. It was his kouhai's birthday after all. One final gift wouldn't hurt. "You may sleep here, if you would like."
Kirihara’s head cocked to the side, trying to decide if Sanada was really being serious or not. They’d argued enough over Kirihara sleeping or not sleeping in the bed that the younger captain was pretty sure it wasn’t going to ever happen.
“No foolin’?” He asked, sounding a little unsure even as his grip loosened on the Babolat in his arms.
It was different. Kirihara had to know that. Yukimura wasn't here and Sanada's previous refusals had been because of the Rikkai captain. "I'm not kidding, but if you wish to trek back to your cabin, you may." He stretched out long legs under the sheets and waited to see what Kirihara would do.
“No way!” Kirihara didn’t hesitate this time before diving unceremoniously into the bed with Sanada. He figured he’d better get in before Sanada changed his mind or anything like that. Rikkai’s acting captain didn’t waist any time settling into Sanada’s side. He was as warm as he thought he might have been and somehow much more comfortable then you would have imagined someone who was all bulky muscle would be.
“Any tips for tomorrow?” Black curls rested against Sanada’s shoulder, green eyes fixed on him waiting for some sort of insight as to what he should expect outside of what he’d studied himself. He’d watched Yukimura for years, but he’d never played him seriously.
Sanada waited until Kirihara had settled down before tugging the covers over them both. This was already different than sleeping with Yukimura. Though, the way they both curled into the warmth was very similar.
He contemplated his kouhai's question for a long moment. There wasn't a straightforward answer. "Try to hit everything he sends at you and don't get caught up in the mental game," he advised. "If you want to be your best, we need to sleep." Reaching over, he tucked the covers around Kirihara. "Good night, Akaya."
Kirihara was much too excited to sleep.
“That’s all? That’s stuff I already figured.” He had to admit that he was a little bit proud of himself for coming up with the same strategy Sanada thought he should have. “You’ve played him only a million or so times, there’s got to be something you know that nobody else does.” Kirihara shifted a little closer to Sanada, throwing an arm over the bulkier male’s torso as the spoke. He waited for the inevitable ‘Tarundoru’ or speech about how it was something that he’d need to find out for himself.
Didn’t Sanada get that, for him, this was probably a once in a life time experience...well at least until they were all pros. Then Yukimura and him would face off at every open, fighting for ever championship and then Kirihara would win a Grand Slam and the crowd would go absolutely wild. Kirihara let his imagination get the best of him for a moment before he came floating back to earth, giving Sanada an expectant look even in the low light of the shelter.
Sanada shifted slightly so his arm didn't fall asleep under Kirihara's weight. If he kept this up, he would be dead when it came time for his match. Perhaps he should have waited until before the match was to take place. "Then the rest is up to you," he said firmly. There was no set strategy to suggest like against say, most of the lesser schools in the tournaments. He knew Kirihara had probably expected him to say that. In the back of his mind, Renji was telling him bits of data, but none of that would be helpful.
He brought up his hand and roughed up black curls again. "Unless you wish to play him now, I suggest you sleep."
Kirihara yawned as if on cue but didn’t look the least bit happy about it. It had done nothing for his point of wanting to stay up. “That's some pretty lame advice, fukubuchou.” Kirihara let out a heavy sigh and shifted even closer, body naturally attracted to the heat Sanada’s was giving off as cooler ocean air swirled around them even in the protection of the wooden shelter.
He kept green eyes waiting and focused as best as he could on his senior even as his eyelids became heavier and heavier. A few moments passed and a few yawns on his part found him nestled with his head on Sanada’s shoulder, eyes closed but a mar on his face signalling that he wasn’t asleep just yet.
"Lame, but correct," Sanada said quietly, glancing at Kirihara one last time before closing his eyes and settling into the mattress. It didn't take long before he was completely comfortable, Kirihara's warmth a decent substitute for Yukimura. He maintained a protective hold on his kouhai and drifted to sleep.
When: late night Friday (9/24)/early morning Saturday (9/25)
Where: Sanada's cabin
Summary: Kirihara's birthday.
Kirihara rushed a little more quickly then he would have admitted to later once Sanada gave him the okay to come over and get his birthday present. Birthdays were great, everyone was nice to him, (for the most part), he got presents and it was easier to get away with things when you had the excuse that it was your birthday. He kind of wondered what Sanada got him, it wasn’t like there was a lot to give on the island or anything, but whatever it was it better have been good, he was making him come and get after all.
It was only a matter of moments before Kirihara found himself in front of Sanada’s cabin. “Fukubuchou...” Rikkai’s young ace peeked into the cabin that belonged to his senior hoping to get a sneaked glance at whatever his gift was.
Sanada finished going through the multitude of tennis rackets he was sent from this latest air drop and put them all in a stack next to his bag. The one for Kirihara sat on his lap, nicely wrapped by his mother. He heard footsteps approaching and gripped the package tightly -- he didn't want Kirihara to just grab it and rip it open.
"Akaya," he said evenly when the curly-haired teen poked his head inside. "You can come in."
“Is that for me?” It didn’t take long for green eyes to spy the wrapped package Sanada had in his lap once he’d slipped into the dimly lit cabin. He went through a list of everything that could have been in that box. It bothered him that it was kind of shaped like the ones his grandmother gave him which almost always contained some form of embarrassing clothing. Pajamas with footies so weren’t his style.
Sanada nodded and motioned for Kirihara to sit down. He could tell that the younger tennis player's mind was on hyper drive, trying to guess. Thinking it obvious, at least to himself, he slid the box onto the mattress in front of him. "Happy birthday, Akaya," he said. "I hope you enjoy it." Hell, Sanada would have kept it if it wasn't not to his specifications.
Kirihara gave Sanada a second glance, making sure it was really okay to tear away at the paper that had been neatly wrapped around the box. Please don’t be something lame. Kirihara chanted to himself as he peeled back the paper and lifted the lid to the box.
It was a Babolat.
But not just any Babolat. This was a Babolat AeroPro Drive GT. Kirihara just stared, it was perfect the yellow and black paint managed to gleem even in the shitty lighting of the shelter and Kirihara was pretty sure his cheeks felt wet.
“Fukubuchou....” Kirihara was pretty sure he was going to either be killed or never live down the next moment of his life. “I love you!” Only Kirihara would be stupid enough to launch himself at Rikkai’s stern Emperor and grab him in a tight hug he refused to loosen up on.
Sanada watched Kirihara open the gift carefully, unsure of what could be inside. It was slightly amusing, seeing his kouhai so nervous about a gift from him. He should have known better given all the previous years. However, he hadn't been expecting said kouhai to fling himself over the gap between them to give him a hug.
Unsure what to do at first, Sanada took a deep breath then wrapped both arms around Kirihara, patting him on the back. He was pretty sure the curly-haired tennis player was crying, but really, he couldn't hold it against him. He had cried when his grandfather gave him Murasame and when he got his first Babolat. It was completely understandable; they were amazing rackets.
"This will make you better. I picked it especially for you, Akaya," he finally said after it seemed Kirihara had calmed down just a bit. "You should use it against Yukimura when you play him." While he doubted Kirihara would get even a game, let alone a point, he was sure the new Rikkai buchou would benefit greatly.
Kirihara pulled back from Sanada’s broad shoulder looking a little weepy but refusing to wipe at his eyes because that would mean admitting he’d cried over a stupid present. “This is the best gift ever, fukubuchou.” He held the racket to his chest tightly and fell back against his senior completely at a loss.
It was a Babolat and he’d be stuck on that for a while.
Sanada caught him again and rubbed his back. "You're welcome, Akaya," he said. After letting Kirihara calm down some more, he gripped his kouhai's upper arms and pulled him away. He stared at Kirihara until the younger teen looked at him. "If you are to face him, you can't go up to the courts like this. It will be over before you even step onto the court." He tugged the racket out of his grasp and set it across the tennis player's lap. "Calm, Akaya."
Green eyes that were a little red around the edges met Sanada’s stern brown ones, they were a little softer then usual, Kirihara noted as he listened carefully to Sanada. The little devil nearly whimpered when the racket was pulled out of a vice like grip until he realized Sanada had no intentions of taking back the gift.
His fingers still ached to hold onto that grip and feel the perfect balanced weight in his hands.
“I know fukubuchou.” Just give me back my racket! He he held his tongue and wiggled in his seat a little. “We should play!” Giving a boy like Kirihara a racket and not letting him try it out was not going to happen.
Sanada reached up and put his hand in messy curls, ruffling them. He watched the look of panic flash in Kirihara's eyes then dissipate as he realized the racket was still in place. He had his own, he didn't need Kirihara's. It wasn't designed for him anyway.
"We can play after you've recovered from playing Yukimura," he said, taking one of Kirihara's hands and wrapping it around the handle of the racket. "Good luck, Akaya."
“You mean after I beat Yukimura-buchou,” he corrected. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He would beat Yukimura, between all of his training and the new racket, he had to. Kirihara figured that because it was his birthday, he might have a little extra luck on his side. (Not that he’d need it.)
Sanada nodded even though he wasn't convinced in the slightest that Kirihara would survive. Maybe he would make his way to the courts around the time Yukimura had said and watch. As it was, Kirihara needed sleep if he was to have any chance. He scooted over on the mattress and patted next to him. It was his kouhai's birthday after all. One final gift wouldn't hurt. "You may sleep here, if you would like."
Kirihara’s head cocked to the side, trying to decide if Sanada was really being serious or not. They’d argued enough over Kirihara sleeping or not sleeping in the bed that the younger captain was pretty sure it wasn’t going to ever happen.
“No foolin’?” He asked, sounding a little unsure even as his grip loosened on the Babolat in his arms.
It was different. Kirihara had to know that. Yukimura wasn't here and Sanada's previous refusals had been because of the Rikkai captain. "I'm not kidding, but if you wish to trek back to your cabin, you may." He stretched out long legs under the sheets and waited to see what Kirihara would do.
“No way!” Kirihara didn’t hesitate this time before diving unceremoniously into the bed with Sanada. He figured he’d better get in before Sanada changed his mind or anything like that. Rikkai’s acting captain didn’t waist any time settling into Sanada’s side. He was as warm as he thought he might have been and somehow much more comfortable then you would have imagined someone who was all bulky muscle would be.
“Any tips for tomorrow?” Black curls rested against Sanada’s shoulder, green eyes fixed on him waiting for some sort of insight as to what he should expect outside of what he’d studied himself. He’d watched Yukimura for years, but he’d never played him seriously.
Sanada waited until Kirihara had settled down before tugging the covers over them both. This was already different than sleeping with Yukimura. Though, the way they both curled into the warmth was very similar.
He contemplated his kouhai's question for a long moment. There wasn't a straightforward answer. "Try to hit everything he sends at you and don't get caught up in the mental game," he advised. "If you want to be your best, we need to sleep." Reaching over, he tucked the covers around Kirihara. "Good night, Akaya."
Kirihara was much too excited to sleep.
“That’s all? That’s stuff I already figured.” He had to admit that he was a little bit proud of himself for coming up with the same strategy Sanada thought he should have. “You’ve played him only a million or so times, there’s got to be something you know that nobody else does.” Kirihara shifted a little closer to Sanada, throwing an arm over the bulkier male’s torso as the spoke. He waited for the inevitable ‘Tarundoru’ or speech about how it was something that he’d need to find out for himself.
Didn’t Sanada get that, for him, this was probably a once in a life time experience...well at least until they were all pros. Then Yukimura and him would face off at every open, fighting for ever championship and then Kirihara would win a Grand Slam and the crowd would go absolutely wild. Kirihara let his imagination get the best of him for a moment before he came floating back to earth, giving Sanada an expectant look even in the low light of the shelter.
Sanada shifted slightly so his arm didn't fall asleep under Kirihara's weight. If he kept this up, he would be dead when it came time for his match. Perhaps he should have waited until before the match was to take place. "Then the rest is up to you," he said firmly. There was no set strategy to suggest like against say, most of the lesser schools in the tournaments. He knew Kirihara had probably expected him to say that. In the back of his mind, Renji was telling him bits of data, but none of that would be helpful.
He brought up his hand and roughed up black curls again. "Unless you wish to play him now, I suggest you sleep."
Kirihara yawned as if on cue but didn’t look the least bit happy about it. It had done nothing for his point of wanting to stay up. “That's some pretty lame advice, fukubuchou.” Kirihara let out a heavy sigh and shifted even closer, body naturally attracted to the heat Sanada’s was giving off as cooler ocean air swirled around them even in the protection of the wooden shelter.
He kept green eyes waiting and focused as best as he could on his senior even as his eyelids became heavier and heavier. A few moments passed and a few yawns on his part found him nestled with his head on Sanada’s shoulder, eyes closed but a mar on his face signalling that he wasn’t asleep just yet.
"Lame, but correct," Sanada said quietly, glancing at Kirihara one last time before closing his eyes and settling into the mattress. It didn't take long before he was completely comfortable, Kirihara's warmth a decent substitute for Yukimura. He maintained a protective hold on his kouhai and drifted to sleep.