FIC: Dénoument, YukiSana, NC17 (3/3)
Title: Dénoument (3/3)
Author: Ociwen
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Yukimura/Sanada + others
Wordcount: 28 000
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Konomi Takeshi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: Everything you can possibly imagine. Not for the weak of heart-or of mind. Spoilers for 40.5.
Summary: Sanada is a girl.
Author's notes: This is something I have been thinking about for a long time. It's everything I want to read in a fic, and then some. Written for Valentines 2008.
This fic has been truncated into 3 parts due to length. The parts are NOT chapters. This is [mostly] a one-shot fic. [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Comments are most welcome.
Sanada goes for a coffee after work. He doesn’t like straight coffee, but this afternoon's meeting gave him a headache. His brain slithers out his ears. The red-tape for the exhibition at the Municipal Museum makes him want to slap all the curators across the face and tell them it doesn't matter if the display labels are to the right or left, stop being lazy asses!
There is a place at the train station that one of the OLs recommended. "Can you get your boyfriend's autograph for my nephew?" she asked. She giggled at Sanada. Her voice grated his ears even more.
Sanada finds the place. He shifts his eyes around. It's fancier than a Starbucks. Kitschy European signs and photographs decorate the walls. Sanada thinks about Yukimura in Germany right now. Yukimura is probably eating sausages. Sanada scowls.
"What can I get you?" the cashier asks. The voice is familiar. Sanada looks up from the laminate menu. Marui looks at him.
"Marui?"
Marui blows through his lips. He must not be allowed to chew gum here. "Oh, hey, Sanada. Didn't recognize you for a minute. I thought you were just some OL from one of the government offices."
Sanada grinds his teeth. He glares. "What are you doing here?"
Marui punches his order into the cash register and yells it out. "Gotta support my mocha chocolata yayas, you know."
Sanada stares at him. "What?"
Marui huffs. He straightens his shoulders. He's still six inches shorter than Sanada. "My girls! Duh!"
"I thought you broke up," Sanada says.
Marui hands Sanada his order. The cup is scalding on the sides and steaming on top. It smells thickly of coffee. Sanada inhales the scent.
"That was last year," Marui says. "Jackal and Jennie moved back in December."
***
"It's a good thing we only have one kid. I liked Shakira and Adriana," Jackal says. "Bunta liked retarded names. Who wants to be called 'Pavlova'?"
"How do you spell that in romanji?"
Jackal shrugs "Beats me."
He adds, "Jennie's short for Geni-us."
"That's lame," Niou says. He rolls his eyes.
"Says the one with Hiroshi Junior." Jackal rolls his eyes too.
Sanada doesn't think about names.
***
"We saw Tezuka in Stuttgart. Akaya was pretty pissed losing to him in the Master's, but we went out for beer," Yukimura says.
Sanada grunts. Yukimura kisses his jaw. Sanada tips his head back and closes his eyes. His hand is limp on Yukimura's shoulder. He stares at the ceiling. A spider's shadow dances across near the light fixture.
Yukimura is warm and heavy on his hips. He smells like the fried fish they ate for supper. He pinches Sanada's nipple. He circles his tongue around Sanada's navel. Yukimura looks up at him with dark eyes and he grins. Sanada sighs.
The kisses on his belly stop. "What?" Yukimura asks.
Sanada says nothing. Yukimura sits up. His cock is swollen dark and erect. Pre-come smears on Sanada's leg when Yukimura shifts. "How am I supposed to know what's wrong if you don't say anything?" he asks. His voice rises. He nearly shouts. His face twists up, his forehead furrows and he slaps a hand down on the futon. Sanada moves out of the way. He scowls.
"I didn't stop you from going pro!" Yukimura snaps.
"I didn't say it was about that!" Sanada shouts. He groans and shoves his shoulder into Yukimura's hip. He glares at the wall. There are no spiders there.
***
The first thing Yukimura says when Sanada wakes up and drags his feet into the kitchen is: "Renji had a baby yesterday. It was another girl."
"I know that," Sanada grumbles.
Yukimura sets down the tea strainer. "Oh."
***
There is an article in Tennis Pro Monthly about Yukimura. The following month, a reader writes in. He's dating an awful woman, her letter says. She's a gorilla. Yukimura-san should break up with that b***h.
Sanada shreds the magazine. His hands shake. He grabs his bag (not a purse!) and stomps all the way to the train station. He buys a ticket and on the train, an old man asks if he's all right and needs a tissue.
Sanada shakes his head. His face is wet.
The dojo is cool and clean and it smells of sweet grass and the camellia blossoms in the vase by the sword cabinet. Sanada hacks his way through three straw dummies, screaming his frustration through the flashing motions of the steel. He steps back and pivots. He lifts the sword to a fourth dummy, but strikes the edge wrong.
"Your angle is off," Grandfather says. "You're getting sloppy. Tarundoru!"
Sanada stays for supper. Mom tells him about Ken-chan's twins. "Taku-chan is almost potty-trained now. And Kimi-chan can say 'Baa-chan!" Mom claps her hands together and sighs.
Sanada goes home. The futon is cold. Yukimura is in France again. He's playing in the fourth round. This year, he is seeded twenty-fifth.
***
Sanada unpacks Yukimura's suitcase. It is his day off. Yukimura is asleep on the futon. He passed out last night and the jet lag set in. There are leftovers in the fridge for him if he wakes up before supper.
His suitcase stinks. Sanada picks out the dirty gym socks and cringes. He picks out the dirty underwear and the putrid t-shirts that stink of stale sweat. Sanada throws everything into the new washer and adds twice the amount of detergent needed. The machine rattles and bangs. Yukimura keeps sleeping.
At the bottom of the suitcase is a sketchpad. Sanada glances over at Yukimura, but the lump of his body hasn't moved. He takes the pad into the second bedroom of their apartment and curls up on the chair.
Sanada flips the sketchpad open. He sucks in a breath. There is a pencil drawing of a woman, completely naked, from the back. Her head is turned but Sanada cannot see her face.
He turns the page.
There is another sketch of a woman from the front, just her torso and big breasts. She has a patch of dark between her thighs and her bellybutton is shaded too.
He turns another page and another. All are sketches of the same woman in different poses. Sanada blushes when he sees the poses: in some, her head is thrown back and her mouth open, in others, Yukimura has drawn sweat droplets and shaded her body with charcoal. In others, her form twists and contorts. She's in ecstasy. She's having sex with someone not drawn.
Sanada drops the sketchpad. He's stopped breathing and a lump chokes his throat up. He doesn't know what to think. This woman is drawn from life. He wants to cry, but he can hardly move except to turn the last page.
His eyes go wide.
A hand slides down his chest. Hot words breathe into his ear, "You weren't supposed to see that," Yukimura says. He picks the sketchpad up with his free hand and smiles ruefully at the drawing. "I think about you all the time when I'm away," he says. "Sometimes I draw you when I'm in my hotel room."
Sanada swallows. His body slumps forward, but Yukimura holds tight. He helps Sanada to his feet and they stumble into the wall. A shudder runs through Sanada's chest. His hands are frantic with Yukimura's pajama shirt and his kisses sloppy. He rubs himself on Yukimura's hip, desperate as he moans and whispers he needs this, now.
Yukimura fucks him over the arm of the chair. Sanada cries out and digs his hands into the seat. His body burns and he's so wet when Yukimura thrusts up into him the first time that he comes untouched. Yukimura pants in his ear and pushes hard and fast and rhythmic until he grunts and shudders and spills himself in hot spurts. He slumps over Sanada's back and hums.
The last sketch in the book is from a frontal view. The woman looks away, but her hair and face and frown is unmistakably Sanada's own.
***
On his birthday, three days later, Yukimura gives him an envelope.
Inside, Sanada pulls out a plane ticket. "London?" he asks.
"Come with me to Wimbledon," Yukimura says.
***
Sanada plays a tennis game with Yagyuu before his flight.
Yagyuu hits a laser. His glasses slip down his nose. His follow-through is too wide and Sanada volleys the ball back with ease. "Your form has gotten worse!" he shouts.
Yagyuu smirks. He smashes the ball to Sanada's baseline and takes a point. "Oh?"
Sanada grumbles. "Tarundoru," he mutters.
"I just went into a dental practice with a former classmate," Yagyuu says. After, he gives Sanada his business card. The cartoon tooth on the corner has a mole by its smiling mouth.
***
It's been eight years since he's needed to speak English. Sanada stares at the signs in the airport and frowns. He follows the arrows. He wheels his suitcase behind himself. His body is tired and he feels scummy all over. He needs to find the underground and take the Piccadilly line first. Yukimura will meet him at the station.
Sanada flips his cell open on the train. There is no signal. He frowns. The train is cramped and narrow and a man who smells like curry sits across from him. He stares at Sanada's chest. Sanada scowls and wishes he could remember the English for "Stop that!"
It rains and it's late, nearly midnight London time. Back home, it is morning. Sanada didn't sleep on the plane. It was his first time and the turbulence made him cling to his armrest and pray he didn't die in a crash.
There are too many people too chaotic in the stations. Sanada follows the signs and arrows and gets lost twice before he changes trains properly. The next train line has wider trains, but they shake back and forth. There is garbage in the crevices between seats and a beer can rolls across the other end of the carriage.
But Yukimura waits at the station for him. He waves to Sanada with a big smile on his face. Sanada shakes his head when Yukimura offers to take his suitcase. "It's fine," he says.
Yukimura looks at him, holding Sanada's gaze with his dark, shining eyes. "The hotel is nice. It's just across the street."
There are no escalators in this station. When they exit, Sanada can see the empty, packed away displays from newspaper vendors. They are right by the river and across the water, the city lights shimmer, all white and blue and yellow, except for the big purple Ferris wheel on the far right.
The hotel is just across the street and a block or two away. Porters in uniform push carts of luggage through the lobby. There are plush Persian carpets underfoot. Sanada feels sloppy in his sneakers, but he is too tired to care.
Unlike the sweltering underground, the room has air conditioning. Sanada shivers when Yukimura closes the door. There are tennisbags scattered around the room and the bed has a rumpled cover where Yukimura must have been sitting. The tv is on. A comedy show plays: there is an audience laughing, but Sanada cannot understand what they say.
Yukimura holds his hand and Sanada lets their bodies sway together in each other. He's tired. He yawns when Yukimura nuzzles his neck, but it feels good. Sanada lets Yukimura push him down onto the big, king-sized bed. He sinks into the mattress as Yukimura crawls over him, peeling off Sanada's clothes, kissing everywhere he uncovers. Sanada sighs into the touches. His body is flush with desire and the air is cool in the room. Yukimura switches the lights off and nothing but the dim orange-tinted city lights streaming in through the curtains illuminates anything. They make love once and Sanada lies there, rubbing his cheek against the soft feather pillows.
"I love you," Yukimura whispers. He kisses Sanada's stomach. He runs his hand along Sanada's hip. "I'm so glad you're here with me."
Maybe Yukimura says more. Sanada falls asleep and doesn't remember.
***
In the morning, they order room service. "No training until this afternoon," Yukimura says. Sanada says room service is a waste of money, but Yukimura laughs him off.
"The Asics deal came through. I'm shooting a CM when we go back to Tokyo," he says. "Live a little!"
The room service breakfast that Yukimura orders comes with strawberries and cream and scones and jam and eggs and strange-looking bacon. Sanada drinks his tea straight. Yukimura dumps half the container of milk into his mug. "That's how they do it here," he says.
His kisses taste milky. Sanada smiles against Yukimura's lips. He flushes and leans back in the pillows. He's naked and there is jam on his chest. Yukimura feeds him a strawberry. Sanada blushes, but he tries to bite Yukimura's fingers too.
They push the tray away and have sex. Sanada rides Yukimura's dick. He looks down his chest and doesn't care if his breasts bounce or if the morning light shows the blooming bruises from last night. Yukimura's face twists and his mouth hangs open. He groans and pushes back. Sanada arches his back and squeezes. Pleasure builds between his legs, higher and tighter as he strains and Yukimura's feet catch in the sheets.
It feels good to collapse against Yukimura's chest after. Sanada breathes hard. He listens to Yukimura's heartbeat. The arms around his shoulders are strong and tight. For an instant, he remembers that day in junior high when Yukimura crumpled at the train platform. He's come so far.
Things are so different, but his tennis is the same.
***
Sanada sits in the stands of the stadium. He wears his cap and a pair of sunglasses. He wears a pair of khakis and a t-shirt and sneakers. The seat is close to the court. A blonde woman sits down beside him. "Are you a fan of the JAPANESE PLAYER?" she shouts at him.
Sanada can hear. He scowls. He understands enough English to nod. "Yes," he says. His words are slow, but steady. He tries to remember how to pronounce the letters. "He is my boyfriend."
The blonde woman gives him a strange smile. Sanada watches the game. His stomach flip-flops for Yukimura, but as soon as Yukimura serves first, confidence and concentrated as he slams his racket into the ball, Sanada relaxes.
Yukimura wins the set.
***
They go out for dinner with Kirihara to a pub on the West side of London. No one recognizes them. The waitress brings them an English menu but Yukimura shakes his head. "English is fine," he tells her.
It is odd to hear Yukimura speak English. He's good, but not fluent. His accent is American. He points to the specials and explains them to Sanada and Kirihara.
"I just want a beer," Kirihara says. Yukimura orders a pint for him. They eat fries and fish and a platter of nachos covered in cheese and chilis. Sanada feels a little ill. The plane gave him gas and it hasn't completely left his system yet.
"I'm going to crush you tomorrow," Kirihara tells Yukimura. Yukimura laughs.
***
Yukimura wins 6-4 6-4 in the second round.
Kirihara doesn't come out for dinner with them. But Yukimura's coach does.
***
When Yukimura trains or doesn't have a game, Sanada explores London. He slings a camera around his neck and holds his purse close to his body. The National Gallery is nice, but crowded. The tucked away rooms of the British Museum are confusing, but empty. He snaps pictures of the dinosaur skeleton in the Natural History Museum. He crosses the street with a crowd of school children and wanders through the Victoria and Albert. The Japanese exhibition makes his chest swollen. Sanada thinks about home and the dojo as he looks at the sterile swords behind glass cases. He can feel the phantom weight of the steel in his hand. He curls his fingers into his palm. He doesn't read the display labels.
Sanada takes a bus tour in Japanese. The staccato sounds and open vowels are a soothing change from the guttural English and flowing European languages, or the even stranger Indian ones. "Who's here for the tennis?" the guide asks. Several hands go up. Sanada hunches down into his seat. His favourite cap hides his blushing.
The tour visits the Tower of London and shuffles through the darkened rooms. The ghost stories make him uncomfortable. He shivers and his arms are covered in goosepimples. The other tourists ooh and aah at the crown jewels. They buy replicas in the gift shop. Sanada buys nothing.
When Yukimura has a game, Sanada goes to the stadium. He wears the special pass around his neck. Americans speak to him in loud, obnoxious words as though he is deaf. Sanada scowls. Sometimes he pretends to not understand. Other times, he answers them using the stock English phrases that Renji emails him.
"Yes, he is my boyfriend. He is a mazing in bed."
"Yukimura is a beast. He will crush your son like the insect he is."
"Yukimura is also strong off the court. Do you know what I mean? Ha hah."
Some of the words Sanada doesn't understand. He trusts Renji enough.
Yukimura makes it through round three with a solid win against a French player. In round four, he trounces an Austrian with dreadlocks.
They have sex every night and sometimes in the morning before Yukimura leaves with the coach. Sanada feels fat and lazy and undisciplined, wandering around London on his own and eating sandwiches and cookies in the museum bars. He misses good barley tea and fresh fish, but the strawberries are good. Yukimura eats them off his breasts and drags them over Sanada's thighs. He licks the juice from Sanada's navel. Yukimura's mouth is sweet when their kisses deepen and his tongue invades Sanada's mouth.
"I'm playing Andy Roddick tomorrow," Yukimura says. They lie in the dark. The digital clock reads quarter to midnight. Sanada's heart pounds in his chest. He's slick with Yukimura's come. And his own.
"We're going out to a nice restaurant after, no matter who wins," Yukimura adds. He tweaks one of Sanada's nipples. Sanada squirms. His breasts are too sensitive from Yukimura's constant playing with them. "I want you to come."
Sanada closes his eyes. "Okay."
"Wear something pretty," Yukimura says. "I want the stupid magazines to shut up about you."
Sanada opens his eyes. Yukimura looks at him. His mouth is set in a thin line. He isn't smiling. Sanada reaches up and touches the top of Yukimura's hair. "Okay."
***
It sounded like an easy idea last night. This morning, Yukimura told him to go shopping instead of coming to the game. Sanada said no. Yukimura pushed him out the door and handed him another hundred pound note.
A woman in the hotel corridor blinked at Sanada. She curled her lip up. Sanada looked down at the money in his hand and flushed.
It's not what you think!
But he couldn't remember the verb 'to think' in English.
Sanada wanders the streets around the hotel. They are sloped and filled with black taxis rushing by. He weaves underneath scaffolding and searches for hopeful shops. There is a market nearby packed with tourists and outdoor patios. Sanada buys tea for mom. He hasn't bought her a souvenir yet. He keeps walking. Clowns and jugglers and living statues painted silver leer at him. Sanada scowls and walks faster.
Out of the corner of his eye is a shop. Colourful dresses and skirts fill the shop. Sanada looks over his shoulder and steps inside. The sales assistants smile at him and ask if he needs help. Sanada mutters yes. He tries to explain he needs something nice. The sales girls bring him a stack of dresses and push him towards a fitting room.
Sanada takes off his shoes. He tries the dresses on. He gets stuck in one. The sales girl asks if he is okay. She helps him take his arm out of the neck and the layers of lining. "This isn't the one for you," she says. "What about this?"
It is black and white. It hits the top of Sanada's calves. He flushes and wishes he shaved his legs above the knee. His bra sticks out the back. The sales girl waves her coworker over. The poke and prod and pull at the strings around Sanada's neck.
"This is the one," one says.
It is satiny and clings to Sanada's body. He frowns. He looks at himself in the mirror. A girl looks back at him. She is red-faced and scowling and her breasts have a dark crease as cleavage. They heave when she breathes through her teeth.
Sanada doesn't know what pretty means to Yukimura.
Sanada buys the dress. It is a waste of money. He knows nothing about fashion, only that his sneakers and t-shirts are much more comfortable. The sales girls tell him he needs a special bra and they write down directions and circle the street in his guidebook. Sanada continues to frown.
In broken English, he finds the bra shop and tries to explain what he needs. In the end, he's frustrated and pulls the dress from the tissue in the bag. He tries on three black bras and four lacy ones. His nipples disappear into the lace patterns. Sanada feels like he's more exposed, but the bra shop clerks nod and pack the lace bra up for him anyway.
He buys a pair of shoes. He asks for help. Renji emails. Sanada responds. He takes a photo with his cellphone and attaches it to the email. Renji emails back Don't forget a necklace!
London has lots of shops. Sanada buys a necklace from the first jewelry shop he passes. It has red beads and a pendant shapes like a flower. It looks girly. Sanada frowns at the price, but he says nothing.
He doesn't make it to Wimbledon in time for Yukimura's game. Sanada sees the score posted. He sighs. Spectators pour in and out of the corridors around him, bumping into the bags he carries.
Sanada goes back to the hotel and has a nap. Dinner is at eight.
***
The sandals are two inches high. Sanada trips at the station entrance and again down the stairs to the underground platform. He feels ridiculous. His breasts are too public, the dress cut too low and the lace of the bra is too thin. He shivers when the wind rushes through the tunnel and the train approaches. His nipples stiffen. They poke against the satin of the dress. There is no lining.
He follows Yukimura's instructions to the restaurant. Yukimura never came back to the hotel after his match. His email had nothing except the directions and a reminder to dress up. Sanada hobbles across a bridge over the Thames. His ankle throbs. Tomorrow, he will have a blister.
He should have worn sneakers. Women are fools for wearing useless shoes just because they match a dress.
The sun has set, but there is a purple glow on the water. It smells faintly fishy, but nothing like home. White plastic garbage bags float along the embankment walls. Sanada turns left.
The restaurant is fancy. Sanada shifts his weight onto his other foot. He waits outside. A woman and a man in a suit walk inside, arms-linked. Sanada looks around for Yukimura. There is no one here.
"There you are!" Yukimura says. His head pops out from the door inside. His eyes rake down Sanada's body. Sanada stares at his dirty toes and flushes. Yukimura's gaze is too heavy, too dark and it makes his nipples stiffen more. Sanada swallows.
"Wow," Yukimura whispers. He takes Sanada's hand and strokes his thumb. Sanada remembers to breath.
The restaurant is Japanese and the walls covered in rice paper screening. There are bamboo in large pots and a sushi counter. The sight of crimson maguro and pink salmon makes Sanada's stomach growl.
He meets Andy Roddick. Andy Roddick smiles and shakes Sanada's sweaty hand. He's taller than Sanada, but not by much. Yukimura introduces Sanada as his girlfriend. Sanada feels like a girl when he blushes. He forgets how to say 'Nice to meet you' in English.
There are other pro players here too, and three other women, all buxom and blonde. Sanada has no idea who they are. He sits beside Yukimura and drinks the wine that is passed around. They eat sushi platters (almost as good as home, but not quite) and fancy dishes of seared tuna and noodles and dishes with more garnish than food served on square white plates. Yukimura laughs and laughs and drinks more wine. Andy Roddick does impressions of the other tennis players. Everyone laughs except Sanada. He doesn't understand and the grunting noises remind Sanada too much of watching Serena Williams play on tv. Yukimura orders a round of beer for everyone in slurred English. Sanada frowns and says no, he's fine.
They take a taxi back to the hotel. Yukimura stumbles into the elevator. Sanada says "I told you so!" but Yukimura laughs him off.
"I know I lost…" he says. Sanada opens the hotel room door and closes it behind them. "…but it was a good game. Probly the best I ever played. His kick serve is like that Echizen's…r'member him…? That little brat from junior high?"
Yukimura flops back onto the bed. Sanada grinds his teeth. He rips the sandals from his feet and throws them across the room. He does not want to remember Echizen.
"You're drunk!" he snaps. "Go to bed."
Yukimura pushes himself off the bed. He staggers. He leans forward and nearly falls to the side. He grabs Sanada's arm with a grip so tight that Sanada winces. Yukimura's giggling stops.
"I'm not drunk enough to not appreciate this," he murmurs.
Sanada shivers. The air conditioning makes his dress billow at the back of his knees.
His legs are smooth wrapped around Yukimura's waist. The skirt bunches up around his hips and his underpants are across the room. Yukimura slams into him hard and Sanada screams something. His back hits the wall again and again and again as Yukimura pounds into him, one hand fisted in Sanada's hair to demand kisses from him, one hand digging into his thigh to support their weight.
Yukimura fucks him so hard Sanada ends up lying on the floor and unable to move. He stares at the carpet and Yukimura's chest. It rises and falls until he sits up and rolls over onto Sanada. They do it again. The carpet grinds into Sanada's shoulders. Yukimura's kisses sting of alcohol, sharp and lingering in Sanada's mouth.
They do it again. Sanada straddles Yukimura's hips and he whimpers. His clit hurts it's so sensitive and his breasts spill out of the dress. Yukimura rolls his nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He thrusts blindly and groans. He jerks and shudders and comes again with a little cry in the back of his throat.
In the middle of the night, Sanada wakes up enough to crawl onto the bed. Yukimura grunts and reaches for him. He heaves his body up beside Sanada's.
"Did you think Andy Roddick's Maria Sharapova impression was funny?" he asks.
Sanada smacks Yukimura on the ear. Yukimura is already asleep.
***
Yagyuu has a gym membership. He can invite a guest once a week. The tennis courts are indoors and have freshly painted green grounds. It looks different from the grass at Wimbledon.
"I watched Yukimura-kun play," Yagyuu says. "He didn't seem very upset about losing in the quarter finals."
"He'll play Roger Federer in the finals next year," Sanada says. He returns Yagyuu's volley with a slight spin. No laser beam this time.
His stomach growls. Sanada feels a pressure inside. He holds up a hand to stop the play and rushes off to the bathroom.
"Stupid airplane gas," he mutters. The gym has squat toilets. Sanada clings to the hand rest and curses his luck.
***
Andy Roddick has a magic handshake.
Sanada skips a period.
He can't breathe.
"That happens to me a lot too," Renji says. The new baby screams in the background. Sanada winces at his phone. "It's a common side effect of airplane travel."
Sanada hangs up.
***
He skips a second period when Yukimura is in America at the US Open. Sanada cannot think about anything else. He walks into a vending machine at the train platform on his way to work. He stares into space in the archive shelves in compact storage at work. He skips lunch in the cafeteria because his stomach won’t stop flip-flopping and he has to pee.
On his way home, he buys a yakiniku bento from Familymart and phones Renji. "What do I do?" he hisses. He glances over his shoulder. A car drives by. The night is damp and muggy. It will rain before tomorrow morning.
"Go to the pharmacy," Renji says. "Buy a test."
***
The test reads positive.
Sanada lies on top of the futon. His heart won't stop fluttering. His back sticks to the futon sheets and he cranks a window open to the misty film of rain instead of having the A/C blasting over him.
A slow hand splays over his stomach and pushes his yukata apart over his hips. Sanada dips his hand down further and parts his legs. He slips his fingers inside and around, rubbing his clit. He sighs.
Yukimura phones. Sanada doesn't answer. His mouth is dry. Yukimura leaves a message.
***
"I beat Andy Roddick, Genichirou!" Yukimura laughs and pauses. "I did it!"
***
Yukimura comes home in the middle of September, flush with his winnings and a front cover, 12-page spread in Tennis Pro Monthly.
Sanada says nothing. He doesn't know what to say. He goes to work. He comes home. Yukimura trains at the university complex, sometimes with Kirihara, sometimes against him. He doesn't notice anything. They have sex most nights. On Fridays, they sometimes go out with friends.
Jackal has a job at an HMV on the outskirts of Tokyo. "They don't know about the kid or him," he says. He nods to Marui, who scarfs down a hamburger. Sanada picks at his own hamburger. A croquette floats in the gravy on his plate. He wants to eat, but he can’t. He threw up his breakfast in the toilets at the office this morning. He orders a ginger tea for supper as well.
"It's just a part-time thing," Jackal says.
"I was offered a position as a taste-tester in the Asse department store food hall," Marui announces. They raise their beer mugs to congratulate him. Only Sanada drinks tea. Jennie drinks a sprite and colours in her school workbook. She looks like Marui, but has Jackal's round half-gaijin eyes.
Sanada wonders what any children of Yukimura's would look like.
***
Jackal was right about the gynecologist.
Sanada pees in a cup.
He contemplates going to the dojo and committing seppuku with one of the oldest swords. But grandfather would be angry with him for soiling the steel with his lazy guts.
***
Yukimura flies to Mexico in October for an invitational match. "Its doubles with the World Tennis Team," he says. "Kirihara and I registered as a pair. So did Tezuka and Chitose Miyuki."
Sanada scrunches up his forehead. They walk through the park. Yukimura holds his hand. The ginkos are golden and leaves flutter down around them, catching in their hair. Sanada's ears are cold where his cap doesn't cover them.
"Who's Chitose Miyuki?" he asks.
Yukimura waves his hand. "She and Tezuka are dating, I heard. Remember that crazy hippie who played back in junior high and high school?"
Sanada nods.
"His sister. She's good, but no Venus Williams." They continue walking. The ducks splash around a stagnant pond. The frogs have begun their hibernation. Sanada's pants feel tight around the middle. His breasts ache. He took the tampons out of his purse last week.
***
"So when are you going to tell him?" Renji asks. He turns up the volume with the remote control. He frowns at the tv. "Akaya shouldn't have hit that chance ball."
The crowd cheers. Genki and Kento are sprawled across the floor, heads on Renji's lap as they sleep. Renji brushes messy curls from their eyes. Natsuko takes up the entire couch. Hana-chan is in Renji's bedroom. She sleeps like a log.
"Do you think you'll find out the sex ahead of time?" Renji asks.
Sanada frowns. Renji keeps looking at him. Genki cracks an eye open at him, too. It is tinged red.
Sanada decides he will tell Yukimura when he returns.
***
The fish is expensive. It's out of season, but it is Yukimura's favourite. Sanada starts the stew as soon as he gets home. The onions make him sniffle. The scent of the cabbage under the knife has him running to the bathroom. He pukes up his lunch and washes the acrid bile taste from his mouth.
Sanada can hear the sound of a car pulling into the pavement three floors down. He smoothes out his apron and takes a deep breath.
"Hello?" Yukimura calls. "I'm home!" He swings the door open. His skin is tanned and his hair gleams darker than ever. There are sunglasses lines around his eyes, paler than the rest of his face. He looks like a raccoon. Sanada's throat closes up.
They sit down to supper and Sanada slops stew on the table. "Sorry for the trouble," he mumbles.
"That's okay," Yukimura says. He touches the back of Sanada's hand. Sanada swallows. His hands are numb and his knees wobble. He drags his eyes to Yukimura and bites his lip.
He wants to vomit again, but his stomach is empty.
"I'm preg-nant," he says. His voice cracks.
The clock ticks. A train rushes by, the faded light through the curtains is reflected in Yukimura's motionless eyes. His chest doesn't move. Yukimura's hand balls up and in a flash, he stands up and pushes the chair away from under himself. It clatters against the wall.
Sanada stands there, stunned. The ladle falls to the floor. Scalding soup burns his hand.
Yukimura's face twists into the ugliest thing Sanada has ever seen.
"You SLUT!" he screams. "You WHORE! How COULD YOU?"
Sanada can't move. Yukimura slams his hand against the wall. Spit flies from his mouth.
"IT WAS YAGYUU, WASN'T IT?! You fucking WHORE! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! Get RID of it! GET OUT!"
Sanada runs.
***
He runs and runs until he stumbles into a cement planter. It is frigid on his hands. He falls to the ground and sobs. The skies darken and cover the stars. Rain starts, a cold drizzle of tears from the clouds that mix with the tears running down Sanada's cheeks. The patter of raindrops drowns out his moaning as he sits there and shakes his head.
He doesn't believe Yukimura's yelling. He can't think about anything but Yukimura's yelling.
Kirihara picks Sanada up in his blue Honda.
Sanada cries the entire ride. He doesn’t care if Kirihara sees.
***
He doesn't go to work for a week.
It rains. The weather is cold and damp and drizzles down the windows of Renji and Kirihara's apartment. Renji goes out a day-maybe two-later and returns with a bag of Sanada's clothes. Sanada doesn't ask about Yukimura. Renji doesn't say anything about Yukimura. Sanada sits on the couch and aches.
Genki and Kento are oddly subdued. They tip-toe around Sanada and whisper behind his back. Natsuko offers him tea and her favourite book. The title is ハリーポッター. Sanada does not read it. The book jacket makes him think of London makes him think of Yukimura. He closes his eyes. His heart is too heavy. The rhythm of his pulse is off: too slow, too shallow. He feels ill and vomits in the sink.
Renji and Kirihara eat supper at half past five. Renji is a poor cook. Kirihara laughs anyway. Renji heaps rice in a dish for Sanada. He places an umeboshi on top. "It might settle your stomach," he says.
"What's wrong with Sanada-san?" Genki asks. He pulls a face. Renji frowns at him.
"There's a baby in his tummy," Natsuko says.
Kento looks confused. Sanada stares at the rice. Kirihara forces a smile. "So, um, Sanada-senpai did you do anything fun today?" he asks. He bites his bottom lip. Kirihara may be taller and heavier, but he hasn't changed much since he was thirteen. He scratches the side of his head.
Sanada glares at him.
***
Sanada goes back to the office.
There is a magazine sitting on his desk. An issue of Tennis Pro Monthly. Yukimura is on the cover. He poses with a racket. There is a sparkle in his eye; it may be the reflection of the photographer's flash.
Sanada throws the magazine in the bin. His stomach heaves. He starts to cry but the tears don't materialize.
***
Renji's couch is lumpy. The sounds of too many children wake Sanada up too early. He lies there and stares at the ceiling and the faint sway of the light fixtures. The bulb has blown in the kitchen lamp and Renji has not changed it yet.
There are nights when he lies there awake. Those are most nights. Sanada listens to the noises through the thin walls. Renji murmurs. Kirihara hums. Someone pants and Sanada rolls over, feeling awkward. He tries to shut the noises out, but the pillows don't work, not when the tiny shrieks and moans begin. There is a slapping sound and an excited grunt follows-it sounds the same as when Kirihara plays tennis. The higher-pitches must be Renji. "Do it again, Akaya! I've been bad!"
Sanada buries his face into the crack between couch cushions. The slapping noises continue. Renji's gasps continue. Kirihara shouts, "Oh fuck!" at some point. Their children don't wake up. Sanada doesn’t fall asleep.
Sanada helps with the laundry. He sorts a pair of mesh crotchless panties. The blood drains from his face. Bile rises in his throat again.
"Ah, sorry about that," Renji says. He grabs the panties and stuffs them into the washing machine.
Sanada buys a pair of earplugs from the pharmacy after work.
***
They do not speak of the panties again.
Or the strange-looking leather cuffs that Sanada finds in the chest of drawers in Renji's bedroom when he goes to put a pile of Hana-chan's clean onesies away.
***
The ache dulls, but it never leaves. There is an undercurrent of anticipation, the same sort when Yukimura is about to return from an overseas tournament. But he never returns. Sanada shuffles through his days and spends sleepless nights on the couch, tossing and turning. He can no longer get comfortable. The couch springs poke his back. His pajama waistband is tight. His yukata never ties properly either.
He blames himself. Yukimura never wanted children. Sanada never asked. He assumes too much. There is a pamphlet in his purse from a clinic five minutes from the office. Sanada reads the pamphlet when Renji and Kirihara have sex (his earplugs are in, but the faint shake of the walls tells him as much). His eyes linger over the words 'necessary sadness' and 'termination'.
On his day off, Renji says, "Let's go out."
Sanada doesn't refuse. He is a guest.
They walk to a park past an elementary school. The trees are bare and the sun is weak. Sanada squints. He forgot his cap. Renji nods to a small back street filled with little taverns and noodle bars and a single, dilapidated café. They pass under half-curtains and sit down at a table. Renji orders lunch. He sips a mug of beer.
Sanada frowns. "You aren't-"
Renji shakes his head. "No, Hana-chan is the last. But you are for the moment."
Sanada stares at the table. There is a spot of dried shoyu.
"It's been ten years," Renji says. "This could be your only chance."
Sanada whips his head up. He clenches his jaw, and his fist. "Yukimura-" he starts, but Renji shakes his head.
"Be selfish for once, Genichirou. Do you really want to return it to the gods?" Renji sips his beer.
Sanada doesn't answer. His pants cut into his stomach. He eats a dumpling without dipping sauce. He swallows it, but the food catches on the lump in his throat. "It's out of wedlock!" he hisses. "It would be improper!"
Renji makes a noise. "You've lived with him for years. Impropriety is the least of your concerns." He sets his beer down and opens his eyes wide. "Besides, if Yukimura didn't say a word about marriage to you in ten years, why would he now?"
Sanada's chest shudders. He turns away and blinks. There are reproduction Hokusai prints on the wood paneled walls. "He hates me."
"This could be your only opportunity," Renji says. "What do you want, Genichirou?"
***
"Um, so, I tried to talk to Yukimura," Kirihara says. He scuffs his slipper on the floor. Sanada's breath catches.
"But, uh…he called me a traitor," Kirihara adds. "He said- well, it's not nice so I won't say, but he's still pretty mad."
Sanada sinks deeper into the couch. His toes are cold. He should put on a warmer pair of socks. In the background, Kento and Genki splash around in the bathtub. Sanada can hear their giggling and the wet patter of little feet across the Pergo floor.
"I don't think he's been home in a while," Kirihara says. "He has this beard thing and he kinda smells like feet."
Sanada lies on the couch at night and wishes Yukimura's cold feet would dig into his calves. He reaches out for a warm body, but no one is there. He feels empty inside, until something turns in his guts-like gas, only much more alive.
***
"I shouldn't be telling you this, but we can pretend it's covert." Jackal pushes his sunglasses up through his hair. Jennie splashes through a mud puddle. She has a coat covered in cartoon cupcakes. She refuses to hold Jackal's hand.
"Yukimura's been crashing with us," Jackal says.
Sanada misses a step. Jackal continues to walk. His boots click on the asphalt pathway.
"And I'm getting tired of him always dragging Bunta out for beer," Jackal says. He gives Sanada a long look. "Yukimura calls you a slut, you know."
Sanada knows.
"He thinks you slept with Yagyuu, you know."
Sanada doesn't know that. He looks up. His brow furrows and his mouth hangs open.
"I called Niou and he said you guys need to have a chit-chat. You can go over to Yagyuu's house next week."
Jackal waves his hand for Jennie. She huffs and runs up to him. "I know Mom!" she says.
"By the way Sanada," Jackal says, "you need to get a bigger coat."
***
Yukimura never calls.
He never sends a text, or an email.
Sanada doesn't know what to say.
His breasts ache. He rubs them under his pajama shirt. His nipples have taken on a funny colour recently.
***
There is a pile of clothes on the couch. Sanada closes the door behind himself. "I'm here," he says. He takes off his shoes and sets his bag down. It is getting hard to bend over.
The apartment is often messy. There are toys scattered and dirty clothes, too. There are sticky handprints on the fridge and walls and stacks of papers on the kitchen counter. Kirihara's tennis stuff multiplies and breeds. Renji's crotchless panties are luckily not on the line on the balcony.
Tentatively, Sanada picks up the first folded item from the pile. It resembles a sack. He frowns.
"These are my old maternity clothes," Renji says. "They would probably fit you."
***
Sanada orders lunch special number #5 at the cafeteria. And a side order of jelly.
His coworkers stare.
He eats his lunch alone. At quarter-past two, he pukes it all up in the toilet. The smell of bleach makes his eyes wet.
***
Yukimura plays in the All Asian Invitational in Tokyo.
Sanada watches on tv. So does Renji. Sanada told him to leave and go watch Kirihara at the sports dome in Yoyogi Park with everyone else, but Renji said no. It is just the two of them and the baby.
Renji whips a boob out. Sanada looks away. He squirms. His face is red. Renji doesn't seem to care. The baby sucks and Renji turns up the volume.
Yukimura staggers onto the court. His eyes are glazed and his nose pink. He smiles up at the crowd and waves to them, but his expression is vacant. He's been drinking. Sanada cringes. Yukimura has facial hair, too. He looks scruffy and his favourite headband is dirty.
He loses to the Taiwanese player in two matches. Yukimura walks off the court and pushes the reporters away.
"Oh dear," Renji whispers.
Sanada walks into the shower room. He slides the door closed and turns on the water. He stands under the spray in his clothes that stick to his body and he shakes until his knees give out.
***
Kirihara wins the All Asia.
"I am NUMBER ONE!" he shouts. He waves his racket around and accidentally hits the ceiling. His sons cheer. Natsuko claps.
He sees Sanada and apologizes. Sanada doesn't hear.
***
Sanada doesn't want to go to see Niou and Yagyuu.
Kirihara drives him. He veers through the traffic and cuts off scooters. He honks his horn and cackles. Sanada rolls down the window and hangs his head out.
Niou and Yagyuu live in the suburbs. Their house is pre-fab and western-style. There are camellia bushes and ivy vines in the front yard. And two small Yagyuus sitting on a bench in matching wool blazers. They both read books.
Niou answers the door. He waddles. He sneers and says he's not pregnant and yes, he knows he's fat Sanada, so stop staring because there's a melon pan in your oven this time.
Two more Yagyuus sit at the kitchen table. Homework sheets are spread out in front of them. Their hair is combed back in perfect parts. Niou picks a baby up off the floor and shakes the dust off. He sniffs the baby's mouth and nods. "Don't eat the dog food again, Ayu."
Sanada doesn't want to be here. Niou doesn't offer tea. He does take off his apron and throw it on the floor. One of the girls picks it up. She has long braids and a frown. Her glasses slip down her nose.
Niou rolls up his sleeves and leans across the low table in the main room. Sanada sits cross-legged. It is too uncomfortable to sit properly anymore. A sausage-shaped dog ambles up to Sanada and paws at his toes. Niou pats the floor beside himself and the dog walks over to him. Niou scratches the spot on its back. Its claws clack on the floor.
"You didn't sleep with Yagyuu," Niou says.
Sanada scowls. "No!"
Niou lifts his head. He strokes his mole. He says nothing for a long moment. A car crunches on the driveway outside and the door opens. "Good," Niou says.
"I'm home!" Yagyuu calls out. Niou stands up. Sanada does too. Niou walks to the front hallway. When Yagyuu sets his bag down and looks up, he smiles. He sticks his tongue down Niou's throat and cups one of Niou's breasts. They sag a bit. Niou is twenty-five.
"Aa," Yagyuu says. He nods. "Sanada-kun. Will you stay for supper?"
Niou grills them again over food. "You didn't sleep with him?" he asks. He points from Sanada to Yagyuu with the rice spoon. Sanada lost track of how many Yagyuus sit around the table. They all look the same anyway.
"No!" Sanada snaps.
"No, Masaharu, we didn't," Yagyuu says.
"If you did, I'll cut your balls off in your sleep," Niou says.
Yagyuu smiles. "They're yours anyway, Masaharu."
Niou smirks. "Yeah, that's right."
Sanada wants to gag. He texts Kirihara a message with his cell under the table. Kirihara shows up in his Honda an hour early.
Sanada rushes out to the Honda. Eight small Yagyuus stare through the front window at him. The wind howls.
***
There are Christmas trees in the underground shopping arcades. Red and green and white lights shine over all the Yokohama streets. The air is filled with the smell of evergreen trees and hot, spicy stews. The Christmas carols give Sanada a headache as he walks to the office. Renji's borrowed clothes are too feminine. Sanada wears a sweater over the blouse and buttons it up all the way. His breasts bounce more-he needs a new bra.
There are couples everywhere. The younger ones hold hands. The older ones walk side by side. Sanada squeezes his eyes shut. He feels ill again. His stomach is empty and his chest is too. His body aches for Yukimura at night. The movement inside reminds him of Yukimura constantly. He slides an unconscious hand down over the front of his coat. His mouth is dry and his eyes sting.
***
Sanada pulls a Gekiranger figurine out from under a couch cushion.
He misses the futon at home.
***
Sanada pulls overtime at work. He refuses to go out for drinks and snacks with the OLs when they ask.
"I'm pregnant," he says.
"Well duh," one says. "We're not blind, Sanada-kun."
He still refuses to go out for drinks.
***
Sanada zips his coat up to his chin. It is too big and his arms swim inside. His breasts jiggle all the time, no matter what he hides under. Sanada tried a sarabashi, but it hurt too much and he couldn't breathe.
He knocks. There is no answer. He flips his cellphone open. One message from Renji. Gone out with the kids. Let yourself in. Good luck.
Sanada blinks.
He pulls out the spare key and jiggles it in the lock. The lights are switched off, but the cityscape shines through the gauzy curtains. Sanada toes his shoes off and sets his bag down. There is another pair of shoes by the doorway.
He freezes.
Yukimura stands up from the couch. His face is hidden in shadows, but Sanada can see the whites of his eyes. "Can we talk?" Yukimura asks.
Sanada's insides slither up.
"I thought you slept with Yagyuu," Yukimura says. Sanada tries to shake his head. Yukimura walks closer. "I thought- I thought you couldn't have kids with me." His voice breaks up. Yukimura is two steps from Sanada and there are fat tears rolling down his hollow cheeks. He looks sick again.
Sanada bites his lip, but he shudders. He closes his eyes and whispers "No…"
"I thought it made me impotent," Yukimura says. "The- my…disease." His words are thick with tears. Sanada can't see through the blur of his own vision. Yukimura touches his arm and Sanada's legs give out. "Do you- are you still…?"
Sanada slumps forward. Yukimura crouches down next to him. He touches Sanada's chin. His fingers are bony and his gaze wavers. "I'm sorry. Even if it wasn't mine, Genichirou-"
Sanada kisses him. He takes Yukimura's hand and presses it to his belly. "I'm still." He can't kiss Yukimura anymore because a shuddered sob rises and Yukimura kisses it away for him.
***
Home is cold and dark and Yukimura stumbles over the scattered beer cans. Sanada says he's too heavy. Yukimura shakes his head. He pants and heaves and carries Sanada to the futon.
"Is it- can you still?"
Sanada nods.
Yukimura's face softens. He rips the clothes from Sanada's body. A button pops and flies across the room. Yukimura kisses him hard. Sanada melts and shivers and his nipples stiffen in the frigid air. Yukimura bites them, sucks them, rubs his face all over Sanada's chest and licks a path in the valley between them.
"Oh god," Yukimura whispers. Sanada digs his hands into Yukimura's hair and tugs. He murmurs Yukimura's name over and over. Yukimura apologizes over and over. He kisses Sanada everywhere until Sanada's skin burns. He's on his hands and knees and Yukimura's tongue dips down the cleft of his ass.
"No!" Sanada moans. "Seiichi-"
Yukimura keeps licking. Sanada is wet, so wet that he practically drips. He bucks against Yukimura's fingers. He rubs against Yukimura's wrist and gasps, humping Yukimura's hand and begging for more, for less, for Yukimura to never stop. Sanada forgets about his swollen belly and his aching breasts when Yukimura pushes inside, his cock bigger and hotter than Sanada can remember. He lies on his side, leg over Yukimura's knee. Sanada pushes back. Yukimura thrusts and cups a hand over Sanada's belly. His fingers trail down through the coarse hair and rub around his clit again. Sanada pants and shivers and the coiled tension in his belly explodes in release. He squeezes his thighs and curls his toes. Yukimura chokes on his neck and thrusts blindly, once, twice, maybe three more times as he drives himself to the hilt and comes.
After, Sanada cries. Yukimura holds Sanada to his chest and kisses his shoulder. "I'm nothing without you, Genichirou."
Sanada's body throbs. He closes his eyes and sniffles.
For the first time in weeks, he sleeps the entire night.
***
On Christmas Eve, Yukimura gives him a box. Sanada opens it.
He sets the vase on one of the high shelves beside the family rock. The vase is rounded and has a thin neck. The glazing is rough and drips down the sides in yellow glassy tears. Sanada smiles. He says nothing.
"Look inside," Yukimura says.
Sanada shakes the vase. Something rattles. He looks at Yukimura, who looks away and flushes. Sanada dumps the vase upside-down.
His heart falls out.
Yukimura picks it up for him.
***
He wears the ring to the office. The OLs swarm him.
"What a rock!" one says.
The other holds his hand up and turns it around and over, holding the stones to the light. There is a diamond in the middle and two rubies on the sides. Sanada should think it’s a waste of money, but when he thinks about what Yukimura asked him, his cheeks feel hot all over again.
***
"I'm taking a year off," Yukimura says.
"Andy Roddick emailed me and said it was a good idea." Yukimura holds his hand up. "No, Genichirou. I need to take this season off. I need to be in a good place mentally to kick Roger Federer's ass."
Yukimura hand is warm on Sanada's stomach. The baby kicks. Yukimura smiles against Sanada's neck.
***
Mom comes on a day off.
She wheels a cart into the apartment. Sanada looks inside. Mom takes out thirty-two magazines. The date on one is from six years and one month ago.
Sanada stares in horror.
"Do you like this style?" she asks. She flips a page. "Or this one. It would hide the bump well. Or this, too…"
***
Sanada wears a shiromuku. He feels like a white whale. He cannot see his geta over the bulge. There are cherry blossoms floating on the wind. They catch in his hair and match the hairpin.
He and Yukimura elope in the Gumma region.
He doesn't like being a girl, or being stuffed into a shiromuku, but when Yukimura unwraps the kimono in the privacy of the luxury ryokan, uncovering him layer by layer with bright eyes so dark Sanada shivers and thinks about tonight, he almost feels as pretty as Yukimura says he is.
"Fuck!" Yukimura gasps. He looks at Sanada. He has no pupils. Sanada looks away when Yukimura licks his lips and slides a finger up his cunt. "Your panties don't have a cro-"
"Shut up," Sanada says.
***
Yukimura dangles the panties from the end of his index finger.
"Those are really hot," he says.
Sanada grunts.
Maybe some of Renji's ideas aren't all that awful after all.
***
They don't leave the ryokan room for three days straight.
Yukimura fucks him so often that Sanada lies there in a boneless mess.
The baby kicks his bladder.
Yukimura's phone goes off. He groans and rolls off the futon, grumbling. He pads over to his cell on the table. His butt is naked and round from the back view Sanada has. Sanada leans on his elbow. Yukimura shifts his weight and his butt cheek flexes. There is a hickey on the left side.
He speaks in English. Then he hangs up and turns to Sanada. His cock is erect and flushed again. Yukimura crawls back besides Sanada.
"Andy Roddick called to wish us good luck."
Sanada doesn't say anything about Andy Roddick's magic handshake.
Yukimura kisses his stomach. "Your bellybutton sticks out."
Sanada thinks Thank you.
***
Yukimura draws him naked. Sanada lays on the futon and tries not to think about it. He stares at the curtains fluttering in the open window. The pollen makes him sniffle. Cool air wafts over his skin. Sanada shivers. His nipples stiffen.
Yukimura's eyes are black, lingering over Sanada's body. His pencil is alive as he sketches. His fingers smooth over the paper, rubbing in the lines he makes to shade Sanada's body. If Sanada closes his eyes, he can feel those fingers ghost over his belly and his chest, all the way up to his lips. He bites back a moan.
Yukimura will never be a professional artist, but the sketch is Sanada's favourite.
***
He gives his resignation in at work.
Kirihara wins the ATP Masters in Miami. Tezuka is out for the season with a wrist injury. On his right side.
Two weeks later, Sanada feels a strange cramp.
***
Having a baby is the most disgusting, horrific, terrifying and wonderful experience Sanada has ever had. Better and more painful than playing-and winning-the Nationals in tennis. Yukimura hates the hospital, but visits him anyway. He sprays the room with an air freshener.
"I hate the smell of these places," he says.
Sanada feels like a cat dragged his head through the mud. His body is broken and battered and he's so tired. The baby screams. His nipples are cracked and his swollen breasts always hurt. He hasn't slept in three days. Before Yukimura entered in a cloud of Lysol spray, Sanada was seeing dancing monkeys on the ceiling. Their faces looked like Urayama Shiita. Sanada doesn't even remember who the hell Urayama Shiita is.
"Do you know what?" Yukimura asks. He pushes Sanada's hair back from his forehead. Sanada looks down at his chest. The baby makes grabby-fists against his breast and clings to it. "We're almost…normal," he says.
Sanada feels rather girly. He doesn't hide his smile, but he doesn't giggle.
Yukimura watches him feed the baby. Sanada is too tired to care. He switches sides. Milk gets on his yukata. The baby opens his mouth to scream right before Sanada latches him on.
"We should call the baby Andy Roddick Yukimura," Yukimura says.
It is the dumbest idea Sanada has ever heard. He wants to strange Yukimura. Except that he doesn't. "Tarundoru," he mutters.
Yukimura smiles and pats his head. "Of course."
***
Yukimura buys Andy Roddick Yukimura a racket before his first birthday.
Three months later, his first full sentence is "No tennis."
Yukimura plays Roger Federer in the finals and wins the following US Open, but Kirihara is the one to be seeded first in the circuit. Sanada brings the toddler to New York to watch the games. He crawls around under the seats and plays with Sanada's iPod headphones. A blonde woman sits next to Sanada. She asks if Sanada is cheering for Yukimura.
Sanada brushes the lap of his skirt. His legs are spread apart to keep his thighs from sticking in the muggy American summer. Andy crawls around his sneakers and grabs at Sanada's sweatsocks. He has corkscrew curls and poor vision.
The woman repeats her question a little louder. Sanada pushes his cap away from his forehead so he can look the woman in the eye. "Yes," he says. "I am his wife."
It's almost normal.
Author: Ociwen
Rating: NC17
Pairing(s): Yukimura/Sanada + others
Wordcount: 28 000
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Konomi Takeshi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Warnings: Everything you can possibly imagine. Not for the weak of heart-or of mind. Spoilers for 40.5.
Summary: Sanada is a girl.
Author's notes: This is something I have been thinking about for a long time. It's everything I want to read in a fic, and then some. Written for Valentines 2008.
This fic has been truncated into 3 parts due to length. The parts are NOT chapters. This is [mostly] a one-shot fic. [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
Comments are most welcome.
Sanada goes for a coffee after work. He doesn’t like straight coffee, but this afternoon's meeting gave him a headache. His brain slithers out his ears. The red-tape for the exhibition at the Municipal Museum makes him want to slap all the curators across the face and tell them it doesn't matter if the display labels are to the right or left, stop being lazy asses!
There is a place at the train station that one of the OLs recommended. "Can you get your boyfriend's autograph for my nephew?" she asked. She giggled at Sanada. Her voice grated his ears even more.
Sanada finds the place. He shifts his eyes around. It's fancier than a Starbucks. Kitschy European signs and photographs decorate the walls. Sanada thinks about Yukimura in Germany right now. Yukimura is probably eating sausages. Sanada scowls.
"What can I get you?" the cashier asks. The voice is familiar. Sanada looks up from the laminate menu. Marui looks at him.
"Marui?"
Marui blows through his lips. He must not be allowed to chew gum here. "Oh, hey, Sanada. Didn't recognize you for a minute. I thought you were just some OL from one of the government offices."
Sanada grinds his teeth. He glares. "What are you doing here?"
Marui punches his order into the cash register and yells it out. "Gotta support my mocha chocolata yayas, you know."
Sanada stares at him. "What?"
Marui huffs. He straightens his shoulders. He's still six inches shorter than Sanada. "My girls! Duh!"
"I thought you broke up," Sanada says.
Marui hands Sanada his order. The cup is scalding on the sides and steaming on top. It smells thickly of coffee. Sanada inhales the scent.
"That was last year," Marui says. "Jackal and Jennie moved back in December."
***
"It's a good thing we only have one kid. I liked Shakira and Adriana," Jackal says. "Bunta liked retarded names. Who wants to be called 'Pavlova'?"
"How do you spell that in romanji?"
Jackal shrugs "Beats me."
He adds, "Jennie's short for Geni-us."
"That's lame," Niou says. He rolls his eyes.
"Says the one with Hiroshi Junior." Jackal rolls his eyes too.
Sanada doesn't think about names.
***
"We saw Tezuka in Stuttgart. Akaya was pretty pissed losing to him in the Master's, but we went out for beer," Yukimura says.
Sanada grunts. Yukimura kisses his jaw. Sanada tips his head back and closes his eyes. His hand is limp on Yukimura's shoulder. He stares at the ceiling. A spider's shadow dances across near the light fixture.
Yukimura is warm and heavy on his hips. He smells like the fried fish they ate for supper. He pinches Sanada's nipple. He circles his tongue around Sanada's navel. Yukimura looks up at him with dark eyes and he grins. Sanada sighs.
The kisses on his belly stop. "What?" Yukimura asks.
Sanada says nothing. Yukimura sits up. His cock is swollen dark and erect. Pre-come smears on Sanada's leg when Yukimura shifts. "How am I supposed to know what's wrong if you don't say anything?" he asks. His voice rises. He nearly shouts. His face twists up, his forehead furrows and he slaps a hand down on the futon. Sanada moves out of the way. He scowls.
"I didn't stop you from going pro!" Yukimura snaps.
"I didn't say it was about that!" Sanada shouts. He groans and shoves his shoulder into Yukimura's hip. He glares at the wall. There are no spiders there.
***
The first thing Yukimura says when Sanada wakes up and drags his feet into the kitchen is: "Renji had a baby yesterday. It was another girl."
"I know that," Sanada grumbles.
Yukimura sets down the tea strainer. "Oh."
***
There is an article in Tennis Pro Monthly about Yukimura. The following month, a reader writes in. He's dating an awful woman, her letter says. She's a gorilla. Yukimura-san should break up with that b***h.
Sanada shreds the magazine. His hands shake. He grabs his bag (not a purse!) and stomps all the way to the train station. He buys a ticket and on the train, an old man asks if he's all right and needs a tissue.
Sanada shakes his head. His face is wet.
The dojo is cool and clean and it smells of sweet grass and the camellia blossoms in the vase by the sword cabinet. Sanada hacks his way through three straw dummies, screaming his frustration through the flashing motions of the steel. He steps back and pivots. He lifts the sword to a fourth dummy, but strikes the edge wrong.
"Your angle is off," Grandfather says. "You're getting sloppy. Tarundoru!"
Sanada stays for supper. Mom tells him about Ken-chan's twins. "Taku-chan is almost potty-trained now. And Kimi-chan can say 'Baa-chan!" Mom claps her hands together and sighs.
Sanada goes home. The futon is cold. Yukimura is in France again. He's playing in the fourth round. This year, he is seeded twenty-fifth.
***
Sanada unpacks Yukimura's suitcase. It is his day off. Yukimura is asleep on the futon. He passed out last night and the jet lag set in. There are leftovers in the fridge for him if he wakes up before supper.
His suitcase stinks. Sanada picks out the dirty gym socks and cringes. He picks out the dirty underwear and the putrid t-shirts that stink of stale sweat. Sanada throws everything into the new washer and adds twice the amount of detergent needed. The machine rattles and bangs. Yukimura keeps sleeping.
At the bottom of the suitcase is a sketchpad. Sanada glances over at Yukimura, but the lump of his body hasn't moved. He takes the pad into the second bedroom of their apartment and curls up on the chair.
Sanada flips the sketchpad open. He sucks in a breath. There is a pencil drawing of a woman, completely naked, from the back. Her head is turned but Sanada cannot see her face.
He turns the page.
There is another sketch of a woman from the front, just her torso and big breasts. She has a patch of dark between her thighs and her bellybutton is shaded too.
He turns another page and another. All are sketches of the same woman in different poses. Sanada blushes when he sees the poses: in some, her head is thrown back and her mouth open, in others, Yukimura has drawn sweat droplets and shaded her body with charcoal. In others, her form twists and contorts. She's in ecstasy. She's having sex with someone not drawn.
Sanada drops the sketchpad. He's stopped breathing and a lump chokes his throat up. He doesn't know what to think. This woman is drawn from life. He wants to cry, but he can hardly move except to turn the last page.
His eyes go wide.
A hand slides down his chest. Hot words breathe into his ear, "You weren't supposed to see that," Yukimura says. He picks the sketchpad up with his free hand and smiles ruefully at the drawing. "I think about you all the time when I'm away," he says. "Sometimes I draw you when I'm in my hotel room."
Sanada swallows. His body slumps forward, but Yukimura holds tight. He helps Sanada to his feet and they stumble into the wall. A shudder runs through Sanada's chest. His hands are frantic with Yukimura's pajama shirt and his kisses sloppy. He rubs himself on Yukimura's hip, desperate as he moans and whispers he needs this, now.
Yukimura fucks him over the arm of the chair. Sanada cries out and digs his hands into the seat. His body burns and he's so wet when Yukimura thrusts up into him the first time that he comes untouched. Yukimura pants in his ear and pushes hard and fast and rhythmic until he grunts and shudders and spills himself in hot spurts. He slumps over Sanada's back and hums.
The last sketch in the book is from a frontal view. The woman looks away, but her hair and face and frown is unmistakably Sanada's own.
***
On his birthday, three days later, Yukimura gives him an envelope.
Inside, Sanada pulls out a plane ticket. "London?" he asks.
"Come with me to Wimbledon," Yukimura says.
***
Sanada plays a tennis game with Yagyuu before his flight.
Yagyuu hits a laser. His glasses slip down his nose. His follow-through is too wide and Sanada volleys the ball back with ease. "Your form has gotten worse!" he shouts.
Yagyuu smirks. He smashes the ball to Sanada's baseline and takes a point. "Oh?"
Sanada grumbles. "Tarundoru," he mutters.
"I just went into a dental practice with a former classmate," Yagyuu says. After, he gives Sanada his business card. The cartoon tooth on the corner has a mole by its smiling mouth.
***
It's been eight years since he's needed to speak English. Sanada stares at the signs in the airport and frowns. He follows the arrows. He wheels his suitcase behind himself. His body is tired and he feels scummy all over. He needs to find the underground and take the Piccadilly line first. Yukimura will meet him at the station.
Sanada flips his cell open on the train. There is no signal. He frowns. The train is cramped and narrow and a man who smells like curry sits across from him. He stares at Sanada's chest. Sanada scowls and wishes he could remember the English for "Stop that!"
It rains and it's late, nearly midnight London time. Back home, it is morning. Sanada didn't sleep on the plane. It was his first time and the turbulence made him cling to his armrest and pray he didn't die in a crash.
There are too many people too chaotic in the stations. Sanada follows the signs and arrows and gets lost twice before he changes trains properly. The next train line has wider trains, but they shake back and forth. There is garbage in the crevices between seats and a beer can rolls across the other end of the carriage.
But Yukimura waits at the station for him. He waves to Sanada with a big smile on his face. Sanada shakes his head when Yukimura offers to take his suitcase. "It's fine," he says.
Yukimura looks at him, holding Sanada's gaze with his dark, shining eyes. "The hotel is nice. It's just across the street."
There are no escalators in this station. When they exit, Sanada can see the empty, packed away displays from newspaper vendors. They are right by the river and across the water, the city lights shimmer, all white and blue and yellow, except for the big purple Ferris wheel on the far right.
The hotel is just across the street and a block or two away. Porters in uniform push carts of luggage through the lobby. There are plush Persian carpets underfoot. Sanada feels sloppy in his sneakers, but he is too tired to care.
Unlike the sweltering underground, the room has air conditioning. Sanada shivers when Yukimura closes the door. There are tennisbags scattered around the room and the bed has a rumpled cover where Yukimura must have been sitting. The tv is on. A comedy show plays: there is an audience laughing, but Sanada cannot understand what they say.
Yukimura holds his hand and Sanada lets their bodies sway together in each other. He's tired. He yawns when Yukimura nuzzles his neck, but it feels good. Sanada lets Yukimura push him down onto the big, king-sized bed. He sinks into the mattress as Yukimura crawls over him, peeling off Sanada's clothes, kissing everywhere he uncovers. Sanada sighs into the touches. His body is flush with desire and the air is cool in the room. Yukimura switches the lights off and nothing but the dim orange-tinted city lights streaming in through the curtains illuminates anything. They make love once and Sanada lies there, rubbing his cheek against the soft feather pillows.
"I love you," Yukimura whispers. He kisses Sanada's stomach. He runs his hand along Sanada's hip. "I'm so glad you're here with me."
Maybe Yukimura says more. Sanada falls asleep and doesn't remember.
***
In the morning, they order room service. "No training until this afternoon," Yukimura says. Sanada says room service is a waste of money, but Yukimura laughs him off.
"The Asics deal came through. I'm shooting a CM when we go back to Tokyo," he says. "Live a little!"
The room service breakfast that Yukimura orders comes with strawberries and cream and scones and jam and eggs and strange-looking bacon. Sanada drinks his tea straight. Yukimura dumps half the container of milk into his mug. "That's how they do it here," he says.
His kisses taste milky. Sanada smiles against Yukimura's lips. He flushes and leans back in the pillows. He's naked and there is jam on his chest. Yukimura feeds him a strawberry. Sanada blushes, but he tries to bite Yukimura's fingers too.
They push the tray away and have sex. Sanada rides Yukimura's dick. He looks down his chest and doesn't care if his breasts bounce or if the morning light shows the blooming bruises from last night. Yukimura's face twists and his mouth hangs open. He groans and pushes back. Sanada arches his back and squeezes. Pleasure builds between his legs, higher and tighter as he strains and Yukimura's feet catch in the sheets.
It feels good to collapse against Yukimura's chest after. Sanada breathes hard. He listens to Yukimura's heartbeat. The arms around his shoulders are strong and tight. For an instant, he remembers that day in junior high when Yukimura crumpled at the train platform. He's come so far.
Things are so different, but his tennis is the same.
***
Sanada sits in the stands of the stadium. He wears his cap and a pair of sunglasses. He wears a pair of khakis and a t-shirt and sneakers. The seat is close to the court. A blonde woman sits down beside him. "Are you a fan of the JAPANESE PLAYER?" she shouts at him.
Sanada can hear. He scowls. He understands enough English to nod. "Yes," he says. His words are slow, but steady. He tries to remember how to pronounce the letters. "He is my boyfriend."
The blonde woman gives him a strange smile. Sanada watches the game. His stomach flip-flops for Yukimura, but as soon as Yukimura serves first, confidence and concentrated as he slams his racket into the ball, Sanada relaxes.
Yukimura wins the set.
***
They go out for dinner with Kirihara to a pub on the West side of London. No one recognizes them. The waitress brings them an English menu but Yukimura shakes his head. "English is fine," he tells her.
It is odd to hear Yukimura speak English. He's good, but not fluent. His accent is American. He points to the specials and explains them to Sanada and Kirihara.
"I just want a beer," Kirihara says. Yukimura orders a pint for him. They eat fries and fish and a platter of nachos covered in cheese and chilis. Sanada feels a little ill. The plane gave him gas and it hasn't completely left his system yet.
"I'm going to crush you tomorrow," Kirihara tells Yukimura. Yukimura laughs.
***
Yukimura wins 6-4 6-4 in the second round.
Kirihara doesn't come out for dinner with them. But Yukimura's coach does.
***
When Yukimura trains or doesn't have a game, Sanada explores London. He slings a camera around his neck and holds his purse close to his body. The National Gallery is nice, but crowded. The tucked away rooms of the British Museum are confusing, but empty. He snaps pictures of the dinosaur skeleton in the Natural History Museum. He crosses the street with a crowd of school children and wanders through the Victoria and Albert. The Japanese exhibition makes his chest swollen. Sanada thinks about home and the dojo as he looks at the sterile swords behind glass cases. He can feel the phantom weight of the steel in his hand. He curls his fingers into his palm. He doesn't read the display labels.
Sanada takes a bus tour in Japanese. The staccato sounds and open vowels are a soothing change from the guttural English and flowing European languages, or the even stranger Indian ones. "Who's here for the tennis?" the guide asks. Several hands go up. Sanada hunches down into his seat. His favourite cap hides his blushing.
The tour visits the Tower of London and shuffles through the darkened rooms. The ghost stories make him uncomfortable. He shivers and his arms are covered in goosepimples. The other tourists ooh and aah at the crown jewels. They buy replicas in the gift shop. Sanada buys nothing.
When Yukimura has a game, Sanada goes to the stadium. He wears the special pass around his neck. Americans speak to him in loud, obnoxious words as though he is deaf. Sanada scowls. Sometimes he pretends to not understand. Other times, he answers them using the stock English phrases that Renji emails him.
"Yes, he is my boyfriend. He is a mazing in bed."
"Yukimura is a beast. He will crush your son like the insect he is."
"Yukimura is also strong off the court. Do you know what I mean? Ha hah."
Some of the words Sanada doesn't understand. He trusts Renji enough.
Yukimura makes it through round three with a solid win against a French player. In round four, he trounces an Austrian with dreadlocks.
They have sex every night and sometimes in the morning before Yukimura leaves with the coach. Sanada feels fat and lazy and undisciplined, wandering around London on his own and eating sandwiches and cookies in the museum bars. He misses good barley tea and fresh fish, but the strawberries are good. Yukimura eats them off his breasts and drags them over Sanada's thighs. He licks the juice from Sanada's navel. Yukimura's mouth is sweet when their kisses deepen and his tongue invades Sanada's mouth.
"I'm playing Andy Roddick tomorrow," Yukimura says. They lie in the dark. The digital clock reads quarter to midnight. Sanada's heart pounds in his chest. He's slick with Yukimura's come. And his own.
"We're going out to a nice restaurant after, no matter who wins," Yukimura adds. He tweaks one of Sanada's nipples. Sanada squirms. His breasts are too sensitive from Yukimura's constant playing with them. "I want you to come."
Sanada closes his eyes. "Okay."
"Wear something pretty," Yukimura says. "I want the stupid magazines to shut up about you."
Sanada opens his eyes. Yukimura looks at him. His mouth is set in a thin line. He isn't smiling. Sanada reaches up and touches the top of Yukimura's hair. "Okay."
***
It sounded like an easy idea last night. This morning, Yukimura told him to go shopping instead of coming to the game. Sanada said no. Yukimura pushed him out the door and handed him another hundred pound note.
A woman in the hotel corridor blinked at Sanada. She curled her lip up. Sanada looked down at the money in his hand and flushed.
It's not what you think!
But he couldn't remember the verb 'to think' in English.
Sanada wanders the streets around the hotel. They are sloped and filled with black taxis rushing by. He weaves underneath scaffolding and searches for hopeful shops. There is a market nearby packed with tourists and outdoor patios. Sanada buys tea for mom. He hasn't bought her a souvenir yet. He keeps walking. Clowns and jugglers and living statues painted silver leer at him. Sanada scowls and walks faster.
Out of the corner of his eye is a shop. Colourful dresses and skirts fill the shop. Sanada looks over his shoulder and steps inside. The sales assistants smile at him and ask if he needs help. Sanada mutters yes. He tries to explain he needs something nice. The sales girls bring him a stack of dresses and push him towards a fitting room.
Sanada takes off his shoes. He tries the dresses on. He gets stuck in one. The sales girl asks if he is okay. She helps him take his arm out of the neck and the layers of lining. "This isn't the one for you," she says. "What about this?"
It is black and white. It hits the top of Sanada's calves. He flushes and wishes he shaved his legs above the knee. His bra sticks out the back. The sales girl waves her coworker over. The poke and prod and pull at the strings around Sanada's neck.
"This is the one," one says.
It is satiny and clings to Sanada's body. He frowns. He looks at himself in the mirror. A girl looks back at him. She is red-faced and scowling and her breasts have a dark crease as cleavage. They heave when she breathes through her teeth.
Sanada doesn't know what pretty means to Yukimura.
Sanada buys the dress. It is a waste of money. He knows nothing about fashion, only that his sneakers and t-shirts are much more comfortable. The sales girls tell him he needs a special bra and they write down directions and circle the street in his guidebook. Sanada continues to frown.
In broken English, he finds the bra shop and tries to explain what he needs. In the end, he's frustrated and pulls the dress from the tissue in the bag. He tries on three black bras and four lacy ones. His nipples disappear into the lace patterns. Sanada feels like he's more exposed, but the bra shop clerks nod and pack the lace bra up for him anyway.
He buys a pair of shoes. He asks for help. Renji emails. Sanada responds. He takes a photo with his cellphone and attaches it to the email. Renji emails back Don't forget a necklace!
London has lots of shops. Sanada buys a necklace from the first jewelry shop he passes. It has red beads and a pendant shapes like a flower. It looks girly. Sanada frowns at the price, but he says nothing.
He doesn't make it to Wimbledon in time for Yukimura's game. Sanada sees the score posted. He sighs. Spectators pour in and out of the corridors around him, bumping into the bags he carries.
Sanada goes back to the hotel and has a nap. Dinner is at eight.
***
The sandals are two inches high. Sanada trips at the station entrance and again down the stairs to the underground platform. He feels ridiculous. His breasts are too public, the dress cut too low and the lace of the bra is too thin. He shivers when the wind rushes through the tunnel and the train approaches. His nipples stiffen. They poke against the satin of the dress. There is no lining.
He follows Yukimura's instructions to the restaurant. Yukimura never came back to the hotel after his match. His email had nothing except the directions and a reminder to dress up. Sanada hobbles across a bridge over the Thames. His ankle throbs. Tomorrow, he will have a blister.
He should have worn sneakers. Women are fools for wearing useless shoes just because they match a dress.
The sun has set, but there is a purple glow on the water. It smells faintly fishy, but nothing like home. White plastic garbage bags float along the embankment walls. Sanada turns left.
The restaurant is fancy. Sanada shifts his weight onto his other foot. He waits outside. A woman and a man in a suit walk inside, arms-linked. Sanada looks around for Yukimura. There is no one here.
"There you are!" Yukimura says. His head pops out from the door inside. His eyes rake down Sanada's body. Sanada stares at his dirty toes and flushes. Yukimura's gaze is too heavy, too dark and it makes his nipples stiffen more. Sanada swallows.
"Wow," Yukimura whispers. He takes Sanada's hand and strokes his thumb. Sanada remembers to breath.
The restaurant is Japanese and the walls covered in rice paper screening. There are bamboo in large pots and a sushi counter. The sight of crimson maguro and pink salmon makes Sanada's stomach growl.
He meets Andy Roddick. Andy Roddick smiles and shakes Sanada's sweaty hand. He's taller than Sanada, but not by much. Yukimura introduces Sanada as his girlfriend. Sanada feels like a girl when he blushes. He forgets how to say 'Nice to meet you' in English.
There are other pro players here too, and three other women, all buxom and blonde. Sanada has no idea who they are. He sits beside Yukimura and drinks the wine that is passed around. They eat sushi platters (almost as good as home, but not quite) and fancy dishes of seared tuna and noodles and dishes with more garnish than food served on square white plates. Yukimura laughs and laughs and drinks more wine. Andy Roddick does impressions of the other tennis players. Everyone laughs except Sanada. He doesn't understand and the grunting noises remind Sanada too much of watching Serena Williams play on tv. Yukimura orders a round of beer for everyone in slurred English. Sanada frowns and says no, he's fine.
They take a taxi back to the hotel. Yukimura stumbles into the elevator. Sanada says "I told you so!" but Yukimura laughs him off.
"I know I lost…" he says. Sanada opens the hotel room door and closes it behind them. "…but it was a good game. Probly the best I ever played. His kick serve is like that Echizen's…r'member him…? That little brat from junior high?"
Yukimura flops back onto the bed. Sanada grinds his teeth. He rips the sandals from his feet and throws them across the room. He does not want to remember Echizen.
"You're drunk!" he snaps. "Go to bed."
Yukimura pushes himself off the bed. He staggers. He leans forward and nearly falls to the side. He grabs Sanada's arm with a grip so tight that Sanada winces. Yukimura's giggling stops.
"I'm not drunk enough to not appreciate this," he murmurs.
Sanada shivers. The air conditioning makes his dress billow at the back of his knees.
His legs are smooth wrapped around Yukimura's waist. The skirt bunches up around his hips and his underpants are across the room. Yukimura slams into him hard and Sanada screams something. His back hits the wall again and again and again as Yukimura pounds into him, one hand fisted in Sanada's hair to demand kisses from him, one hand digging into his thigh to support their weight.
Yukimura fucks him so hard Sanada ends up lying on the floor and unable to move. He stares at the carpet and Yukimura's chest. It rises and falls until he sits up and rolls over onto Sanada. They do it again. The carpet grinds into Sanada's shoulders. Yukimura's kisses sting of alcohol, sharp and lingering in Sanada's mouth.
They do it again. Sanada straddles Yukimura's hips and he whimpers. His clit hurts it's so sensitive and his breasts spill out of the dress. Yukimura rolls his nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He thrusts blindly and groans. He jerks and shudders and comes again with a little cry in the back of his throat.
In the middle of the night, Sanada wakes up enough to crawl onto the bed. Yukimura grunts and reaches for him. He heaves his body up beside Sanada's.
"Did you think Andy Roddick's Maria Sharapova impression was funny?" he asks.
Sanada smacks Yukimura on the ear. Yukimura is already asleep.
***
Yagyuu has a gym membership. He can invite a guest once a week. The tennis courts are indoors and have freshly painted green grounds. It looks different from the grass at Wimbledon.
"I watched Yukimura-kun play," Yagyuu says. "He didn't seem very upset about losing in the quarter finals."
"He'll play Roger Federer in the finals next year," Sanada says. He returns Yagyuu's volley with a slight spin. No laser beam this time.
His stomach growls. Sanada feels a pressure inside. He holds up a hand to stop the play and rushes off to the bathroom.
"Stupid airplane gas," he mutters. The gym has squat toilets. Sanada clings to the hand rest and curses his luck.
***
Andy Roddick has a magic handshake.
Sanada skips a period.
He can't breathe.
"That happens to me a lot too," Renji says. The new baby screams in the background. Sanada winces at his phone. "It's a common side effect of airplane travel."
Sanada hangs up.
***
He skips a second period when Yukimura is in America at the US Open. Sanada cannot think about anything else. He walks into a vending machine at the train platform on his way to work. He stares into space in the archive shelves in compact storage at work. He skips lunch in the cafeteria because his stomach won’t stop flip-flopping and he has to pee.
On his way home, he buys a yakiniku bento from Familymart and phones Renji. "What do I do?" he hisses. He glances over his shoulder. A car drives by. The night is damp and muggy. It will rain before tomorrow morning.
"Go to the pharmacy," Renji says. "Buy a test."
***
The test reads positive.
Sanada lies on top of the futon. His heart won't stop fluttering. His back sticks to the futon sheets and he cranks a window open to the misty film of rain instead of having the A/C blasting over him.
A slow hand splays over his stomach and pushes his yukata apart over his hips. Sanada dips his hand down further and parts his legs. He slips his fingers inside and around, rubbing his clit. He sighs.
Yukimura phones. Sanada doesn't answer. His mouth is dry. Yukimura leaves a message.
***
"I beat Andy Roddick, Genichirou!" Yukimura laughs and pauses. "I did it!"
***
Yukimura comes home in the middle of September, flush with his winnings and a front cover, 12-page spread in Tennis Pro Monthly.
Sanada says nothing. He doesn't know what to say. He goes to work. He comes home. Yukimura trains at the university complex, sometimes with Kirihara, sometimes against him. He doesn't notice anything. They have sex most nights. On Fridays, they sometimes go out with friends.
Jackal has a job at an HMV on the outskirts of Tokyo. "They don't know about the kid or him," he says. He nods to Marui, who scarfs down a hamburger. Sanada picks at his own hamburger. A croquette floats in the gravy on his plate. He wants to eat, but he can’t. He threw up his breakfast in the toilets at the office this morning. He orders a ginger tea for supper as well.
"It's just a part-time thing," Jackal says.
"I was offered a position as a taste-tester in the Asse department store food hall," Marui announces. They raise their beer mugs to congratulate him. Only Sanada drinks tea. Jennie drinks a sprite and colours in her school workbook. She looks like Marui, but has Jackal's round half-gaijin eyes.
Sanada wonders what any children of Yukimura's would look like.
***
Jackal was right about the gynecologist.
Sanada pees in a cup.
He contemplates going to the dojo and committing seppuku with one of the oldest swords. But grandfather would be angry with him for soiling the steel with his lazy guts.
***
Yukimura flies to Mexico in October for an invitational match. "Its doubles with the World Tennis Team," he says. "Kirihara and I registered as a pair. So did Tezuka and Chitose Miyuki."
Sanada scrunches up his forehead. They walk through the park. Yukimura holds his hand. The ginkos are golden and leaves flutter down around them, catching in their hair. Sanada's ears are cold where his cap doesn't cover them.
"Who's Chitose Miyuki?" he asks.
Yukimura waves his hand. "She and Tezuka are dating, I heard. Remember that crazy hippie who played back in junior high and high school?"
Sanada nods.
"His sister. She's good, but no Venus Williams." They continue walking. The ducks splash around a stagnant pond. The frogs have begun their hibernation. Sanada's pants feel tight around the middle. His breasts ache. He took the tampons out of his purse last week.
***
"So when are you going to tell him?" Renji asks. He turns up the volume with the remote control. He frowns at the tv. "Akaya shouldn't have hit that chance ball."
The crowd cheers. Genki and Kento are sprawled across the floor, heads on Renji's lap as they sleep. Renji brushes messy curls from their eyes. Natsuko takes up the entire couch. Hana-chan is in Renji's bedroom. She sleeps like a log.
"Do you think you'll find out the sex ahead of time?" Renji asks.
Sanada frowns. Renji keeps looking at him. Genki cracks an eye open at him, too. It is tinged red.
Sanada decides he will tell Yukimura when he returns.
***
The fish is expensive. It's out of season, but it is Yukimura's favourite. Sanada starts the stew as soon as he gets home. The onions make him sniffle. The scent of the cabbage under the knife has him running to the bathroom. He pukes up his lunch and washes the acrid bile taste from his mouth.
Sanada can hear the sound of a car pulling into the pavement three floors down. He smoothes out his apron and takes a deep breath.
"Hello?" Yukimura calls. "I'm home!" He swings the door open. His skin is tanned and his hair gleams darker than ever. There are sunglasses lines around his eyes, paler than the rest of his face. He looks like a raccoon. Sanada's throat closes up.
They sit down to supper and Sanada slops stew on the table. "Sorry for the trouble," he mumbles.
"That's okay," Yukimura says. He touches the back of Sanada's hand. Sanada swallows. His hands are numb and his knees wobble. He drags his eyes to Yukimura and bites his lip.
He wants to vomit again, but his stomach is empty.
"I'm preg-nant," he says. His voice cracks.
The clock ticks. A train rushes by, the faded light through the curtains is reflected in Yukimura's motionless eyes. His chest doesn't move. Yukimura's hand balls up and in a flash, he stands up and pushes the chair away from under himself. It clatters against the wall.
Sanada stands there, stunned. The ladle falls to the floor. Scalding soup burns his hand.
Yukimura's face twists into the ugliest thing Sanada has ever seen.
"You SLUT!" he screams. "You WHORE! How COULD YOU?"
Sanada can't move. Yukimura slams his hand against the wall. Spit flies from his mouth.
"IT WAS YAGYUU, WASN'T IT?! You fucking WHORE! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! Get RID of it! GET OUT!"
Sanada runs.
***
He runs and runs until he stumbles into a cement planter. It is frigid on his hands. He falls to the ground and sobs. The skies darken and cover the stars. Rain starts, a cold drizzle of tears from the clouds that mix with the tears running down Sanada's cheeks. The patter of raindrops drowns out his moaning as he sits there and shakes his head.
He doesn't believe Yukimura's yelling. He can't think about anything but Yukimura's yelling.
Kirihara picks Sanada up in his blue Honda.
Sanada cries the entire ride. He doesn’t care if Kirihara sees.
***
He doesn't go to work for a week.
It rains. The weather is cold and damp and drizzles down the windows of Renji and Kirihara's apartment. Renji goes out a day-maybe two-later and returns with a bag of Sanada's clothes. Sanada doesn't ask about Yukimura. Renji doesn't say anything about Yukimura. Sanada sits on the couch and aches.
Genki and Kento are oddly subdued. They tip-toe around Sanada and whisper behind his back. Natsuko offers him tea and her favourite book. The title is ハリーポッター. Sanada does not read it. The book jacket makes him think of London makes him think of Yukimura. He closes his eyes. His heart is too heavy. The rhythm of his pulse is off: too slow, too shallow. He feels ill and vomits in the sink.
Renji and Kirihara eat supper at half past five. Renji is a poor cook. Kirihara laughs anyway. Renji heaps rice in a dish for Sanada. He places an umeboshi on top. "It might settle your stomach," he says.
"What's wrong with Sanada-san?" Genki asks. He pulls a face. Renji frowns at him.
"There's a baby in his tummy," Natsuko says.
Kento looks confused. Sanada stares at the rice. Kirihara forces a smile. "So, um, Sanada-senpai did you do anything fun today?" he asks. He bites his bottom lip. Kirihara may be taller and heavier, but he hasn't changed much since he was thirteen. He scratches the side of his head.
Sanada glares at him.
***
Sanada goes back to the office.
There is a magazine sitting on his desk. An issue of Tennis Pro Monthly. Yukimura is on the cover. He poses with a racket. There is a sparkle in his eye; it may be the reflection of the photographer's flash.
Sanada throws the magazine in the bin. His stomach heaves. He starts to cry but the tears don't materialize.
***
Renji's couch is lumpy. The sounds of too many children wake Sanada up too early. He lies there and stares at the ceiling and the faint sway of the light fixtures. The bulb has blown in the kitchen lamp and Renji has not changed it yet.
There are nights when he lies there awake. Those are most nights. Sanada listens to the noises through the thin walls. Renji murmurs. Kirihara hums. Someone pants and Sanada rolls over, feeling awkward. He tries to shut the noises out, but the pillows don't work, not when the tiny shrieks and moans begin. There is a slapping sound and an excited grunt follows-it sounds the same as when Kirihara plays tennis. The higher-pitches must be Renji. "Do it again, Akaya! I've been bad!"
Sanada buries his face into the crack between couch cushions. The slapping noises continue. Renji's gasps continue. Kirihara shouts, "Oh fuck!" at some point. Their children don't wake up. Sanada doesn’t fall asleep.
Sanada helps with the laundry. He sorts a pair of mesh crotchless panties. The blood drains from his face. Bile rises in his throat again.
"Ah, sorry about that," Renji says. He grabs the panties and stuffs them into the washing machine.
Sanada buys a pair of earplugs from the pharmacy after work.
***
They do not speak of the panties again.
Or the strange-looking leather cuffs that Sanada finds in the chest of drawers in Renji's bedroom when he goes to put a pile of Hana-chan's clean onesies away.
***
The ache dulls, but it never leaves. There is an undercurrent of anticipation, the same sort when Yukimura is about to return from an overseas tournament. But he never returns. Sanada shuffles through his days and spends sleepless nights on the couch, tossing and turning. He can no longer get comfortable. The couch springs poke his back. His pajama waistband is tight. His yukata never ties properly either.
He blames himself. Yukimura never wanted children. Sanada never asked. He assumes too much. There is a pamphlet in his purse from a clinic five minutes from the office. Sanada reads the pamphlet when Renji and Kirihara have sex (his earplugs are in, but the faint shake of the walls tells him as much). His eyes linger over the words 'necessary sadness' and 'termination'.
On his day off, Renji says, "Let's go out."
Sanada doesn't refuse. He is a guest.
They walk to a park past an elementary school. The trees are bare and the sun is weak. Sanada squints. He forgot his cap. Renji nods to a small back street filled with little taverns and noodle bars and a single, dilapidated café. They pass under half-curtains and sit down at a table. Renji orders lunch. He sips a mug of beer.
Sanada frowns. "You aren't-"
Renji shakes his head. "No, Hana-chan is the last. But you are for the moment."
Sanada stares at the table. There is a spot of dried shoyu.
"It's been ten years," Renji says. "This could be your only chance."
Sanada whips his head up. He clenches his jaw, and his fist. "Yukimura-" he starts, but Renji shakes his head.
"Be selfish for once, Genichirou. Do you really want to return it to the gods?" Renji sips his beer.
Sanada doesn't answer. His pants cut into his stomach. He eats a dumpling without dipping sauce. He swallows it, but the food catches on the lump in his throat. "It's out of wedlock!" he hisses. "It would be improper!"
Renji makes a noise. "You've lived with him for years. Impropriety is the least of your concerns." He sets his beer down and opens his eyes wide. "Besides, if Yukimura didn't say a word about marriage to you in ten years, why would he now?"
Sanada's chest shudders. He turns away and blinks. There are reproduction Hokusai prints on the wood paneled walls. "He hates me."
"This could be your only opportunity," Renji says. "What do you want, Genichirou?"
***
"Um, so, I tried to talk to Yukimura," Kirihara says. He scuffs his slipper on the floor. Sanada's breath catches.
"But, uh…he called me a traitor," Kirihara adds. "He said- well, it's not nice so I won't say, but he's still pretty mad."
Sanada sinks deeper into the couch. His toes are cold. He should put on a warmer pair of socks. In the background, Kento and Genki splash around in the bathtub. Sanada can hear their giggling and the wet patter of little feet across the Pergo floor.
"I don't think he's been home in a while," Kirihara says. "He has this beard thing and he kinda smells like feet."
Sanada lies on the couch at night and wishes Yukimura's cold feet would dig into his calves. He reaches out for a warm body, but no one is there. He feels empty inside, until something turns in his guts-like gas, only much more alive.
***
"I shouldn't be telling you this, but we can pretend it's covert." Jackal pushes his sunglasses up through his hair. Jennie splashes through a mud puddle. She has a coat covered in cartoon cupcakes. She refuses to hold Jackal's hand.
"Yukimura's been crashing with us," Jackal says.
Sanada misses a step. Jackal continues to walk. His boots click on the asphalt pathway.
"And I'm getting tired of him always dragging Bunta out for beer," Jackal says. He gives Sanada a long look. "Yukimura calls you a slut, you know."
Sanada knows.
"He thinks you slept with Yagyuu, you know."
Sanada doesn't know that. He looks up. His brow furrows and his mouth hangs open.
"I called Niou and he said you guys need to have a chit-chat. You can go over to Yagyuu's house next week."
Jackal waves his hand for Jennie. She huffs and runs up to him. "I know Mom!" she says.
"By the way Sanada," Jackal says, "you need to get a bigger coat."
***
Yukimura never calls.
He never sends a text, or an email.
Sanada doesn't know what to say.
His breasts ache. He rubs them under his pajama shirt. His nipples have taken on a funny colour recently.
***
There is a pile of clothes on the couch. Sanada closes the door behind himself. "I'm here," he says. He takes off his shoes and sets his bag down. It is getting hard to bend over.
The apartment is often messy. There are toys scattered and dirty clothes, too. There are sticky handprints on the fridge and walls and stacks of papers on the kitchen counter. Kirihara's tennis stuff multiplies and breeds. Renji's crotchless panties are luckily not on the line on the balcony.
Tentatively, Sanada picks up the first folded item from the pile. It resembles a sack. He frowns.
"These are my old maternity clothes," Renji says. "They would probably fit you."
***
Sanada orders lunch special number #5 at the cafeteria. And a side order of jelly.
His coworkers stare.
He eats his lunch alone. At quarter-past two, he pukes it all up in the toilet. The smell of bleach makes his eyes wet.
***
Yukimura plays in the All Asian Invitational in Tokyo.
Sanada watches on tv. So does Renji. Sanada told him to leave and go watch Kirihara at the sports dome in Yoyogi Park with everyone else, but Renji said no. It is just the two of them and the baby.
Renji whips a boob out. Sanada looks away. He squirms. His face is red. Renji doesn't seem to care. The baby sucks and Renji turns up the volume.
Yukimura staggers onto the court. His eyes are glazed and his nose pink. He smiles up at the crowd and waves to them, but his expression is vacant. He's been drinking. Sanada cringes. Yukimura has facial hair, too. He looks scruffy and his favourite headband is dirty.
He loses to the Taiwanese player in two matches. Yukimura walks off the court and pushes the reporters away.
"Oh dear," Renji whispers.
Sanada walks into the shower room. He slides the door closed and turns on the water. He stands under the spray in his clothes that stick to his body and he shakes until his knees give out.
***
Kirihara wins the All Asia.
"I am NUMBER ONE!" he shouts. He waves his racket around and accidentally hits the ceiling. His sons cheer. Natsuko claps.
He sees Sanada and apologizes. Sanada doesn't hear.
***
Sanada doesn't want to go to see Niou and Yagyuu.
Kirihara drives him. He veers through the traffic and cuts off scooters. He honks his horn and cackles. Sanada rolls down the window and hangs his head out.
Niou and Yagyuu live in the suburbs. Their house is pre-fab and western-style. There are camellia bushes and ivy vines in the front yard. And two small Yagyuus sitting on a bench in matching wool blazers. They both read books.
Niou answers the door. He waddles. He sneers and says he's not pregnant and yes, he knows he's fat Sanada, so stop staring because there's a melon pan in your oven this time.
Two more Yagyuus sit at the kitchen table. Homework sheets are spread out in front of them. Their hair is combed back in perfect parts. Niou picks a baby up off the floor and shakes the dust off. He sniffs the baby's mouth and nods. "Don't eat the dog food again, Ayu."
Sanada doesn't want to be here. Niou doesn't offer tea. He does take off his apron and throw it on the floor. One of the girls picks it up. She has long braids and a frown. Her glasses slip down her nose.
Niou rolls up his sleeves and leans across the low table in the main room. Sanada sits cross-legged. It is too uncomfortable to sit properly anymore. A sausage-shaped dog ambles up to Sanada and paws at his toes. Niou pats the floor beside himself and the dog walks over to him. Niou scratches the spot on its back. Its claws clack on the floor.
"You didn't sleep with Yagyuu," Niou says.
Sanada scowls. "No!"
Niou lifts his head. He strokes his mole. He says nothing for a long moment. A car crunches on the driveway outside and the door opens. "Good," Niou says.
"I'm home!" Yagyuu calls out. Niou stands up. Sanada does too. Niou walks to the front hallway. When Yagyuu sets his bag down and looks up, he smiles. He sticks his tongue down Niou's throat and cups one of Niou's breasts. They sag a bit. Niou is twenty-five.
"Aa," Yagyuu says. He nods. "Sanada-kun. Will you stay for supper?"
Niou grills them again over food. "You didn't sleep with him?" he asks. He points from Sanada to Yagyuu with the rice spoon. Sanada lost track of how many Yagyuus sit around the table. They all look the same anyway.
"No!" Sanada snaps.
"No, Masaharu, we didn't," Yagyuu says.
"If you did, I'll cut your balls off in your sleep," Niou says.
Yagyuu smiles. "They're yours anyway, Masaharu."
Niou smirks. "Yeah, that's right."
Sanada wants to gag. He texts Kirihara a message with his cell under the table. Kirihara shows up in his Honda an hour early.
Sanada rushes out to the Honda. Eight small Yagyuus stare through the front window at him. The wind howls.
***
There are Christmas trees in the underground shopping arcades. Red and green and white lights shine over all the Yokohama streets. The air is filled with the smell of evergreen trees and hot, spicy stews. The Christmas carols give Sanada a headache as he walks to the office. Renji's borrowed clothes are too feminine. Sanada wears a sweater over the blouse and buttons it up all the way. His breasts bounce more-he needs a new bra.
There are couples everywhere. The younger ones hold hands. The older ones walk side by side. Sanada squeezes his eyes shut. He feels ill again. His stomach is empty and his chest is too. His body aches for Yukimura at night. The movement inside reminds him of Yukimura constantly. He slides an unconscious hand down over the front of his coat. His mouth is dry and his eyes sting.
***
Sanada pulls a Gekiranger figurine out from under a couch cushion.
He misses the futon at home.
***
Sanada pulls overtime at work. He refuses to go out for drinks and snacks with the OLs when they ask.
"I'm pregnant," he says.
"Well duh," one says. "We're not blind, Sanada-kun."
He still refuses to go out for drinks.
***
Sanada zips his coat up to his chin. It is too big and his arms swim inside. His breasts jiggle all the time, no matter what he hides under. Sanada tried a sarabashi, but it hurt too much and he couldn't breathe.
He knocks. There is no answer. He flips his cellphone open. One message from Renji. Gone out with the kids. Let yourself in. Good luck.
Sanada blinks.
He pulls out the spare key and jiggles it in the lock. The lights are switched off, but the cityscape shines through the gauzy curtains. Sanada toes his shoes off and sets his bag down. There is another pair of shoes by the doorway.
He freezes.
Yukimura stands up from the couch. His face is hidden in shadows, but Sanada can see the whites of his eyes. "Can we talk?" Yukimura asks.
Sanada's insides slither up.
"I thought you slept with Yagyuu," Yukimura says. Sanada tries to shake his head. Yukimura walks closer. "I thought- I thought you couldn't have kids with me." His voice breaks up. Yukimura is two steps from Sanada and there are fat tears rolling down his hollow cheeks. He looks sick again.
Sanada bites his lip, but he shudders. He closes his eyes and whispers "No…"
"I thought it made me impotent," Yukimura says. "The- my…disease." His words are thick with tears. Sanada can't see through the blur of his own vision. Yukimura touches his arm and Sanada's legs give out. "Do you- are you still…?"
Sanada slumps forward. Yukimura crouches down next to him. He touches Sanada's chin. His fingers are bony and his gaze wavers. "I'm sorry. Even if it wasn't mine, Genichirou-"
Sanada kisses him. He takes Yukimura's hand and presses it to his belly. "I'm still." He can't kiss Yukimura anymore because a shuddered sob rises and Yukimura kisses it away for him.
***
Home is cold and dark and Yukimura stumbles over the scattered beer cans. Sanada says he's too heavy. Yukimura shakes his head. He pants and heaves and carries Sanada to the futon.
"Is it- can you still?"
Sanada nods.
Yukimura's face softens. He rips the clothes from Sanada's body. A button pops and flies across the room. Yukimura kisses him hard. Sanada melts and shivers and his nipples stiffen in the frigid air. Yukimura bites them, sucks them, rubs his face all over Sanada's chest and licks a path in the valley between them.
"Oh god," Yukimura whispers. Sanada digs his hands into Yukimura's hair and tugs. He murmurs Yukimura's name over and over. Yukimura apologizes over and over. He kisses Sanada everywhere until Sanada's skin burns. He's on his hands and knees and Yukimura's tongue dips down the cleft of his ass.
"No!" Sanada moans. "Seiichi-"
Yukimura keeps licking. Sanada is wet, so wet that he practically drips. He bucks against Yukimura's fingers. He rubs against Yukimura's wrist and gasps, humping Yukimura's hand and begging for more, for less, for Yukimura to never stop. Sanada forgets about his swollen belly and his aching breasts when Yukimura pushes inside, his cock bigger and hotter than Sanada can remember. He lies on his side, leg over Yukimura's knee. Sanada pushes back. Yukimura thrusts and cups a hand over Sanada's belly. His fingers trail down through the coarse hair and rub around his clit again. Sanada pants and shivers and the coiled tension in his belly explodes in release. He squeezes his thighs and curls his toes. Yukimura chokes on his neck and thrusts blindly, once, twice, maybe three more times as he drives himself to the hilt and comes.
After, Sanada cries. Yukimura holds Sanada to his chest and kisses his shoulder. "I'm nothing without you, Genichirou."
Sanada's body throbs. He closes his eyes and sniffles.
For the first time in weeks, he sleeps the entire night.
***
On Christmas Eve, Yukimura gives him a box. Sanada opens it.
He sets the vase on one of the high shelves beside the family rock. The vase is rounded and has a thin neck. The glazing is rough and drips down the sides in yellow glassy tears. Sanada smiles. He says nothing.
"Look inside," Yukimura says.
Sanada shakes the vase. Something rattles. He looks at Yukimura, who looks away and flushes. Sanada dumps the vase upside-down.
His heart falls out.
Yukimura picks it up for him.
***
He wears the ring to the office. The OLs swarm him.
"What a rock!" one says.
The other holds his hand up and turns it around and over, holding the stones to the light. There is a diamond in the middle and two rubies on the sides. Sanada should think it’s a waste of money, but when he thinks about what Yukimura asked him, his cheeks feel hot all over again.
***
"I'm taking a year off," Yukimura says.
"Andy Roddick emailed me and said it was a good idea." Yukimura holds his hand up. "No, Genichirou. I need to take this season off. I need to be in a good place mentally to kick Roger Federer's ass."
Yukimura hand is warm on Sanada's stomach. The baby kicks. Yukimura smiles against Sanada's neck.
***
Mom comes on a day off.
She wheels a cart into the apartment. Sanada looks inside. Mom takes out thirty-two magazines. The date on one is from six years and one month ago.
Sanada stares in horror.
"Do you like this style?" she asks. She flips a page. "Or this one. It would hide the bump well. Or this, too…"
***
Sanada wears a shiromuku. He feels like a white whale. He cannot see his geta over the bulge. There are cherry blossoms floating on the wind. They catch in his hair and match the hairpin.
He and Yukimura elope in the Gumma region.
He doesn't like being a girl, or being stuffed into a shiromuku, but when Yukimura unwraps the kimono in the privacy of the luxury ryokan, uncovering him layer by layer with bright eyes so dark Sanada shivers and thinks about tonight, he almost feels as pretty as Yukimura says he is.
"Fuck!" Yukimura gasps. He looks at Sanada. He has no pupils. Sanada looks away when Yukimura licks his lips and slides a finger up his cunt. "Your panties don't have a cro-"
"Shut up," Sanada says.
***
Yukimura dangles the panties from the end of his index finger.
"Those are really hot," he says.
Sanada grunts.
Maybe some of Renji's ideas aren't all that awful after all.
***
They don't leave the ryokan room for three days straight.
Yukimura fucks him so often that Sanada lies there in a boneless mess.
The baby kicks his bladder.
Yukimura's phone goes off. He groans and rolls off the futon, grumbling. He pads over to his cell on the table. His butt is naked and round from the back view Sanada has. Sanada leans on his elbow. Yukimura shifts his weight and his butt cheek flexes. There is a hickey on the left side.
He speaks in English. Then he hangs up and turns to Sanada. His cock is erect and flushed again. Yukimura crawls back besides Sanada.
"Andy Roddick called to wish us good luck."
Sanada doesn't say anything about Andy Roddick's magic handshake.
Yukimura kisses his stomach. "Your bellybutton sticks out."
Sanada thinks Thank you.
***
Yukimura draws him naked. Sanada lays on the futon and tries not to think about it. He stares at the curtains fluttering in the open window. The pollen makes him sniffle. Cool air wafts over his skin. Sanada shivers. His nipples stiffen.
Yukimura's eyes are black, lingering over Sanada's body. His pencil is alive as he sketches. His fingers smooth over the paper, rubbing in the lines he makes to shade Sanada's body. If Sanada closes his eyes, he can feel those fingers ghost over his belly and his chest, all the way up to his lips. He bites back a moan.
Yukimura will never be a professional artist, but the sketch is Sanada's favourite.
***
He gives his resignation in at work.
Kirihara wins the ATP Masters in Miami. Tezuka is out for the season with a wrist injury. On his right side.
Two weeks later, Sanada feels a strange cramp.
***
Having a baby is the most disgusting, horrific, terrifying and wonderful experience Sanada has ever had. Better and more painful than playing-and winning-the Nationals in tennis. Yukimura hates the hospital, but visits him anyway. He sprays the room with an air freshener.
"I hate the smell of these places," he says.
Sanada feels like a cat dragged his head through the mud. His body is broken and battered and he's so tired. The baby screams. His nipples are cracked and his swollen breasts always hurt. He hasn't slept in three days. Before Yukimura entered in a cloud of Lysol spray, Sanada was seeing dancing monkeys on the ceiling. Their faces looked like Urayama Shiita. Sanada doesn't even remember who the hell Urayama Shiita is.
"Do you know what?" Yukimura asks. He pushes Sanada's hair back from his forehead. Sanada looks down at his chest. The baby makes grabby-fists against his breast and clings to it. "We're almost…normal," he says.
Sanada feels rather girly. He doesn't hide his smile, but he doesn't giggle.
Yukimura watches him feed the baby. Sanada is too tired to care. He switches sides. Milk gets on his yukata. The baby opens his mouth to scream right before Sanada latches him on.
"We should call the baby Andy Roddick Yukimura," Yukimura says.
It is the dumbest idea Sanada has ever heard. He wants to strange Yukimura. Except that he doesn't. "Tarundoru," he mutters.
Yukimura smiles and pats his head. "Of course."
***
Yukimura buys Andy Roddick Yukimura a racket before his first birthday.
Three months later, his first full sentence is "No tennis."
Yukimura plays Roger Federer in the finals and wins the following US Open, but Kirihara is the one to be seeded first in the circuit. Sanada brings the toddler to New York to watch the games. He crawls around under the seats and plays with Sanada's iPod headphones. A blonde woman sits next to Sanada. She asks if Sanada is cheering for Yukimura.
Sanada brushes the lap of his skirt. His legs are spread apart to keep his thighs from sticking in the muggy American summer. Andy crawls around his sneakers and grabs at Sanada's sweatsocks. He has corkscrew curls and poor vision.
The woman repeats her question a little louder. Sanada pushes his cap away from his forehead so he can look the woman in the eye. "Yes," he says. "I am his wife."
It's almost normal.