Drabble-age (592 words, Little Yukimura + Sanada)
Title: Untitled
Author: Ociwen
Wordcount: 592
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: Konomi owns all.
Summary: Little Yukimura. And tennis. And the pitfalls of having younger siblings born.
Author's Notes: Written for yuki_scorpio's request for little Yukimura.
Yukimura looked at the bundle in his mother's arms. It wriggled a bit. It smelled like a cross between the milk he left in his bedroom for a week last August and the bathroom after his father has a morning sit.
"Can it do anything?" he asked. There was a new court opened up two blocks away this summer, with beautiful pristine green courts and nets so taught that he could bounce bodies, not balls off it.
Yukimura was seven. And he needed a tennis partner asap or he'd never get any better.
"Seiichi," his father said, "babies eat and sleep. They don't do anything else until they're bigger. She'll grow up and in a few years you two can play."
"That sucks," Yukimura muttered under his breath. He glared at his mother, at his father, and the wriggling useless thing in his mother's arms.
"Don't you want to hold her?" his mother asked. She looked like a mess- red-faced, hair everywhere, and her nightgown was rumpled. Yukimura was a bit skeptical about the whole "storks drop the new babies off" story his father told him. More like his mother wrestled a stork to the ground and wrenched the baby away from it, judging by her frazzled state and bloodshot eyes.
"No!" he snapped.
Yukimura ran out of the hospital room. Like hell he wanted to hold that thing! He wanted to go play tennis now with it! To improve and take over the world like Andre Agassi!
He dashed through the sterile hospital hallways, cutting past doctors and knocking into a nurse. She shouted something at him, but he ignored her. She was probably a part of this whole baby conspiracy anyway.
The hospital lounge was small and the chairs were covered in green vinyl. Yukimura collapsed onto on of them. If he had money, he'd treat himself to a fanta from the vending machine just for spite (he wasn't allowed to drink soft drinks at home. Tooth rot, or so his father lied about that, too!)
"Stupid sister. Stupid useless babies...can't even play tennis," he grumbled. He kicked the seat, but then his foot started to hurt. "Stupid foot, too..."
Someone made a noise across the lounge. Yukimura pounded his fist into the vinyl armrest until the noise repeated itself and he looked up. A boy was sitting across from him, his leg propped up in a cast.
He looked...angry, all messy black hair and a frown on his face. His nose was all pinched up and he sniffed. "You play tennis?" he mumbled.
"Yeah," Yukimura said. "Did you know that babies can't play tennis? How useless! I have to wait years to practice for real because my stupid baby sister can only eat and sleep. That's stupid!"
The boy sniffled again. Snot dribbled down his nose and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. On crutches, he hobbled over and plunked himself down on the seat beside Yukimura. He held out the same hand and said, "I'll play tennis with you, if you want."
Yukimura hesitated to shake his hand. It was still slimy with boogers. But then, tennis got the better of him and he grabbed it. The boy's hand was warm and sweaty and he had a good grip. "I'm Yukimura," he said.
The boy started to smile and almost, almost made something start to flutter in Yukimura's stomach, the same way that watching Andre Agassi play a really cool tennis game on tv did.
Yukimura smiled back when the boy said, "I'm Sanada."
Author: Ociwen
Wordcount: 592
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: Konomi owns all.
Summary: Little Yukimura. And tennis. And the pitfalls of having younger siblings born.
Author's Notes: Written for yuki_scorpio's request for little Yukimura.
Yukimura looked at the bundle in his mother's arms. It wriggled a bit. It smelled like a cross between the milk he left in his bedroom for a week last August and the bathroom after his father has a morning sit.
"Can it do anything?" he asked. There was a new court opened up two blocks away this summer, with beautiful pristine green courts and nets so taught that he could bounce bodies, not balls off it.
Yukimura was seven. And he needed a tennis partner asap or he'd never get any better.
"Seiichi," his father said, "babies eat and sleep. They don't do anything else until they're bigger. She'll grow up and in a few years you two can play."
"That sucks," Yukimura muttered under his breath. He glared at his mother, at his father, and the wriggling useless thing in his mother's arms.
"Don't you want to hold her?" his mother asked. She looked like a mess- red-faced, hair everywhere, and her nightgown was rumpled. Yukimura was a bit skeptical about the whole "storks drop the new babies off" story his father told him. More like his mother wrestled a stork to the ground and wrenched the baby away from it, judging by her frazzled state and bloodshot eyes.
"No!" he snapped.
Yukimura ran out of the hospital room. Like hell he wanted to hold that thing! He wanted to go play tennis now with it! To improve and take over the world like Andre Agassi!
He dashed through the sterile hospital hallways, cutting past doctors and knocking into a nurse. She shouted something at him, but he ignored her. She was probably a part of this whole baby conspiracy anyway.
The hospital lounge was small and the chairs were covered in green vinyl. Yukimura collapsed onto on of them. If he had money, he'd treat himself to a fanta from the vending machine just for spite (he wasn't allowed to drink soft drinks at home. Tooth rot, or so his father lied about that, too!)
"Stupid sister. Stupid useless babies...can't even play tennis," he grumbled. He kicked the seat, but then his foot started to hurt. "Stupid foot, too..."
Someone made a noise across the lounge. Yukimura pounded his fist into the vinyl armrest until the noise repeated itself and he looked up. A boy was sitting across from him, his leg propped up in a cast.
He looked...angry, all messy black hair and a frown on his face. His nose was all pinched up and he sniffed. "You play tennis?" he mumbled.
"Yeah," Yukimura said. "Did you know that babies can't play tennis? How useless! I have to wait years to practice for real because my stupid baby sister can only eat and sleep. That's stupid!"
The boy sniffled again. Snot dribbled down his nose and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. On crutches, he hobbled over and plunked himself down on the seat beside Yukimura. He held out the same hand and said, "I'll play tennis with you, if you want."
Yukimura hesitated to shake his hand. It was still slimy with boogers. But then, tennis got the better of him and he grabbed it. The boy's hand was warm and sweaty and he had a good grip. "I'm Yukimura," he said.
The boy started to smile and almost, almost made something start to flutter in Yukimura's stomach, the same way that watching Andre Agassi play a really cool tennis game on tv did.
Yukimura smiled back when the boy said, "I'm Sanada."