Fanfic100 - If
Title: If Only....
Fandom: Prince of Tennis: Fudomine Chuugaku
Characters: Kamio Akira, Saeki Kojirou, the rest of the Fudomine Regulars.
Prompt: 082 - If
Word Count: 892
Date finished: 12/21/2007
Rating: PG
Summary: Not knowing when your child will die is a terrible thing.
Author's Notes: I have experienced a death watch for a six-year-old. I never want to do it again. From the CPG "Saeki / Kamio - Confession". There might be more if I get inspiration, but don't hold your breath.
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Konomi Takeshi, and whoever did the anime. At any rate, it's not me.
Kamio Akira sat in the large, overstuffed arm chair and cuddled his son. He focused on his own pain - shattered wrist, broken leg, wrenched shoulder, stitched-up head - rather than what the doctor had said, but the words echoed in his mind anyway.
…too much damage. I did all I could. I'm sorry I couldn't save her.
…could go any day, any time.
He's most comfortable when you hold him.
Akira shifted a little, gasping as Daiki's slight weight pressed on his shoulder. The three-year-old slept heavily, his left arm in a cast, his legs in braces. Akira moved again, easing the weight off his shoulder, and then brushed the boy's too-long hair from his face and wondered how long his life would be empty this time.
Never once had he complained about the hours he'd had to work, the money he'd missed by leaving early (by Japan's standards, anyway), the promotions that had passed him by, because he wanted to be a good father and a good husband. His happiness had overflowed, touching everyone he knew, and most of them celebrated with him. Nothing made him happier than coming home to four bright eyes, excited to see him.
Had made him happier.
An had died on the operating table as the doctors tried to save her life. There had just been too much damage. And Daiki… his little body had taken too much, too; the blow to his head would never heal. It was just a matter of time, now, no matter how much he'd railed and ranted and screamed - or at least wanted to - against it. There was nothing they could do.
He was sick of that phrase.
"Kamio-san."
He looked up, focusing eyes that didn't want to focus on the silver hair of his son's doctor. "Saeki-sensei," he responded, arms tightening protectively about his son. Daiki protested wordlessly, and he released his grip again.
"There are people here to see you."
People…. Heaven help him, if it were An's parents - heaven help them if it were his. "Who?" he asked.
"My nurses are all a-twitter," the pediatrician confessed. "One famous author, and a well-known actor, in one place, asking to see the same person. How do you know them?"
Akira blinked. Author? That would be Shinji. All his words had come in handy after all. And actor? He furrowed his brow. Did he know an actor? "Let them in," he said. "Shinji will know who is okay to let in."
The doctor's eyebrows rose at the familiarity of the name, but turned away without further words, and opened the door.
The familiar forms of his tennis team from Junior high, best friends, crowded in and around: Ibu Shinji, Uchimura Kyosuke (oh, right, he'd gone into acting), Ishida Tetsu, Mori Tatsunori, Sakurai Masaya. "I called Kippei," Masaya told him. "He said he'd be here as soon as he could."
Akira looked up. "You shouldn't…" he started, and then remembered that An was his sister, and the boy in his arms was the tennis pro's nephew.
"He said he'll be here as soon as he can," Tetsu said gently, towering over the bunch of them. "Akira, are you okay?"
Akira shifted again, biting back a groan this time. "I'm fine," he managed to get out. "I'll be fine."
Shinji pulled a chair up right in front of him. "We don't believe you," he said, sitting down and meeting Akira's eyes. "The doctor told us about Daiki."
Akira dropped his gaze to the small child on his lap. "He sleeps best when I hold him," he said dully. "And he needs his sleep…." He avoided what Shinji had said, although he knew none of them would let him. Please, just this once!
The others found places to sit, ranging around the room. "Noriko is taking care of your apartment," Tetsu said softly from his spot on the couch. "I hope you don't mind."
Akira looked up again, avoiding Shinji's eyes. "No, that's fine," he said, and went back to his son, drinking in everything.
The room fell silent, listening with him to Daiki's breaths, in, out, in, out, so slow, so shallow.
An hour had passed when the door opened again, and Tachibana Kippei stepped in. Shinji, still on the chair in front of Akira (strangely, blissfully, silent), turned and then got up as Kippei nodded at them all, moving purposefully across the room. "Akira."
He looked up, slowly, aching and in pain and not caring. "You came," he whispered.
"How could I not?" Kippei sank down, reaching out to brush that stubborn lock of hair from his nephew's face. "Saeki-sensei said…."
"Yes," Akira interrupted, not willing to hear it yet again, no matter what Kippei wanted to say.
Kippei smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Akira," he said.
"So am I," Akira managed to choke out, and just… held his son, focused on him and nothing else.
He became aware that his son had stopped breathing only at a scream from Daiki's heart monitor; he'd fallen into some sort of daze, breathing with Daiki, and he hadn't realized the child hadn't gone on. The flurry of movement around him - everyone in white - only disoriented him more, and so they were able to take Daiki before he realized what had happened.
"No!"
On his feet, he went after the person in white with a body that wouldn't work - and Kippei caught him, strong arms around him, keeping him on his feet and from damaging himself worse. "It's okay," he murmured into Akira's ear. "It's okay. They'll take care of him."
Now, finally, the tears came, tears he hadn't been able to shed for An, for Daiki because he was still there, and he sobbed into his former captain's shoulder, heart shattered beyond repair. He never noticed the nurse slip a sedative into the iv attached to his arm, and slid thankfully into oblivion.
Fudomine
Fandom: Prince of Tennis: Fudomine Chuugaku
Characters: Kamio Akira, Saeki Kojirou, the rest of the Fudomine Regulars.
Prompt: 082 - If
Word Count: 892
Date finished: 12/21/2007
Rating: PG
Summary: Not knowing when your child will die is a terrible thing.
Author's Notes: I have experienced a death watch for a six-year-old. I never want to do it again. From the CPG "Saeki / Kamio - Confession". There might be more if I get inspiration, but don't hold your breath.
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Konomi Takeshi, and whoever did the anime. At any rate, it's not me.
Kamio Akira sat in the large, overstuffed arm chair and cuddled his son. He focused on his own pain - shattered wrist, broken leg, wrenched shoulder, stitched-up head - rather than what the doctor had said, but the words echoed in his mind anyway.
…too much damage. I did all I could. I'm sorry I couldn't save her.
…could go any day, any time.
He's most comfortable when you hold him.
Akira shifted a little, gasping as Daiki's slight weight pressed on his shoulder. The three-year-old slept heavily, his left arm in a cast, his legs in braces. Akira moved again, easing the weight off his shoulder, and then brushed the boy's too-long hair from his face and wondered how long his life would be empty this time.
Never once had he complained about the hours he'd had to work, the money he'd missed by leaving early (by Japan's standards, anyway), the promotions that had passed him by, because he wanted to be a good father and a good husband. His happiness had overflowed, touching everyone he knew, and most of them celebrated with him. Nothing made him happier than coming home to four bright eyes, excited to see him.
Had made him happier.
An had died on the operating table as the doctors tried to save her life. There had just been too much damage. And Daiki… his little body had taken too much, too; the blow to his head would never heal. It was just a matter of time, now, no matter how much he'd railed and ranted and screamed - or at least wanted to - against it. There was nothing they could do.
He was sick of that phrase.
"Kamio-san."
He looked up, focusing eyes that didn't want to focus on the silver hair of his son's doctor. "Saeki-sensei," he responded, arms tightening protectively about his son. Daiki protested wordlessly, and he released his grip again.
"There are people here to see you."
People…. Heaven help him, if it were An's parents - heaven help them if it were his. "Who?" he asked.
"My nurses are all a-twitter," the pediatrician confessed. "One famous author, and a well-known actor, in one place, asking to see the same person. How do you know them?"
Akira blinked. Author? That would be Shinji. All his words had come in handy after all. And actor? He furrowed his brow. Did he know an actor? "Let them in," he said. "Shinji will know who is okay to let in."
The doctor's eyebrows rose at the familiarity of the name, but turned away without further words, and opened the door.
The familiar forms of his tennis team from Junior high, best friends, crowded in and around: Ibu Shinji, Uchimura Kyosuke (oh, right, he'd gone into acting), Ishida Tetsu, Mori Tatsunori, Sakurai Masaya. "I called Kippei," Masaya told him. "He said he'd be here as soon as he could."
Akira looked up. "You shouldn't…" he started, and then remembered that An was his sister, and the boy in his arms was the tennis pro's nephew.
"He said he'll be here as soon as he can," Tetsu said gently, towering over the bunch of them. "Akira, are you okay?"
Akira shifted again, biting back a groan this time. "I'm fine," he managed to get out. "I'll be fine."
Shinji pulled a chair up right in front of him. "We don't believe you," he said, sitting down and meeting Akira's eyes. "The doctor told us about Daiki."
Akira dropped his gaze to the small child on his lap. "He sleeps best when I hold him," he said dully. "And he needs his sleep…." He avoided what Shinji had said, although he knew none of them would let him. Please, just this once!
The others found places to sit, ranging around the room. "Noriko is taking care of your apartment," Tetsu said softly from his spot on the couch. "I hope you don't mind."
Akira looked up again, avoiding Shinji's eyes. "No, that's fine," he said, and went back to his son, drinking in everything.
The room fell silent, listening with him to Daiki's breaths, in, out, in, out, so slow, so shallow.
An hour had passed when the door opened again, and Tachibana Kippei stepped in. Shinji, still on the chair in front of Akira (strangely, blissfully, silent), turned and then got up as Kippei nodded at them all, moving purposefully across the room. "Akira."
He looked up, slowly, aching and in pain and not caring. "You came," he whispered.
"How could I not?" Kippei sank down, reaching out to brush that stubborn lock of hair from his nephew's face. "Saeki-sensei said…."
"Yes," Akira interrupted, not willing to hear it yet again, no matter what Kippei wanted to say.
Kippei smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Akira," he said.
"So am I," Akira managed to choke out, and just… held his son, focused on him and nothing else.
He became aware that his son had stopped breathing only at a scream from Daiki's heart monitor; he'd fallen into some sort of daze, breathing with Daiki, and he hadn't realized the child hadn't gone on. The flurry of movement around him - everyone in white - only disoriented him more, and so they were able to take Daiki before he realized what had happened.
"No!"
On his feet, he went after the person in white with a body that wouldn't work - and Kippei caught him, strong arms around him, keeping him on his feet and from damaging himself worse. "It's okay," he murmured into Akira's ear. "It's okay. They'll take care of him."
Now, finally, the tears came, tears he hadn't been able to shed for An, for Daiki because he was still there, and he sobbed into his former captain's shoulder, heart shattered beyond repair. He never noticed the nurse slip a sedative into the iv attached to his arm, and slid thankfully into oblivion.
Fudomine