[Fic] SanaYanaYuki Hospital Fic, Chunk 1
Title: Still Untitled...
Characters: Sanada, Yukimura, Yanagi
Rating: PG/K+
Warnings: None, besides hospital situations
Part 1-ish of ?? Leads off from the waiting room background...
So...this has been a long time coming. I've been trying to put together something spanning my entire imagined timeframe of Yukimura's intial illness, since so many of the more developed one-shots I've written kind of depend on what happens. However - this has ended up being less of a tidy, well-written multi-chaptered fic and more of a series of tell-instead-of-show chunks.
As much as I'd like to take it and make it all pretty, I don't have the time. But it's fanfic - just for fun!! So enjoy what's here.
That was it.
Sanada watched Yagyuu Hiroshi’s back as he boarded the city bus, his own feet firmly fixed to the pavement. Through the bus’s tinted windows he could see Jackal Kuwahara nudging a rather numb Kirihara Akaya towards a place in the back, caught Marui Bunta dropping into a seat and leaning his head against the glass. Saw Niou Masaharu assessing everyone else after grabbing onto a pole with one hand. You could see a lot by the fluorescent lighting of a bus after dark. Yagyuu glanced back over his shoulder, pausing near the door. “Are you coming?”
“No,” Sanada answered, and Yagyuu turned and walked down the aisle of the bus as the driver closed the door. The hum of the bus’s motor increased and its tires cut through the thin layer of muddy slush on the side of the street as it lumbered noisily towards the traffic lights shining red and then green a few blocks down.
“Another bus stops near the park,” Yanagi Renji spoke up when the noise of the bus decreased. The white glow of Kanai General Hospital’s sign lit up the brick building behind him. Sanada could see snowflakes loosely filling the air in front of the light. Renji pressed his lips together and turned his head to the right. “It’s that way.”
It was cold outside, but they took the long way to the park. The walking felt good, even if they had to shove their clenched hands deeper into their coat pockets and crunch up their toes every now and then inside their shoes to keep them from getting too numb. Sanada reluctantly pulled his hands out of his pockets to readjust his scarf. Yukimura had said something about needing to run right before practice, right before falling.
Here, I’ll give you a hand up, Sanada had offered, surprised when Yukimura didn’t stand up neatly from the ground. He’d been pushing up with both hands, scraping one foot across the floor. He didn’t take the offered hand. He didn’t even look at it. Yukimura just shook his head slightly, hardly paying attention to anything. No, he’d said, staring at his own feet. I…I really can’t get up. Something’s wrong.
“Do you think Seiichi’s okay?” Renji’s voice cut into Sanada’s thoughts. Sanada blinked and looked at him critically. Renji didn’t sound overly concerned, but his tone wasn’t as calm and even as usual. Renji didn’t ask questions like that.
“I…” Sanada started, but only ended up shaking his head slightly. The nurse who’d spoken to them in the waiting room outside the ER had said Yukimura was being taken to the ICU. Yagyuu had explained something about nerves and paralysis. This wasn’t a broken ankle or the flu or any of the things Sanada was acquainted with. It wasn’t something Yukimura was acquainted with either, he assumed. Sanada kept walking, the memory of Yukimura rolled past them on a cart still sharp. It had been almost impossible to see his face. He’d caught Yukimura blinking rapidly and turning his head to stare at their group after he’d shouted, but that was all. Sanada wiped melting snowflakes off of his forehead with his sleeve, wishing he had his hat with him. “No.”
Renji inhaled deeply, waiting for the beat of a second or two before exhaling. “That’s not very encouraging, Genichirou.”
“You asked,” Sanada responded. Sometimes it was still hard to determine if Renji was being critical or not. It didn’t matter. The truth was no, so that was what Sanada said. Pretty lies like everything will be fine and don’t worry, he’s all right were pointless in a situation like this. Better to focus on absolutes, on what could be done. Sanada shoved his chilly hands further into his pockets. He couldn’t do anything about Yukimura’s condition. He wasn’t a doctor. He was a tennis player. He could only make promises about tennis.
They continued in silence to the bus stop. The bench was covered in a thin dusting of snow and Sanada opted to stand next to the dented sign instead. He watched as Renji wiped snow from the bench before sitting. “Do you think drills will be enough for tomorrow?”
Renji glanced up questioningly, his mouth slightly open for a short moment. He blinked and nodded. “Sure. Drills will be enough.”
--
“And breathe in,” the doctor said. Not a doctor, Yukimura Seiichi corrected himself while automatically following the instruction. Respiratory therapist. He had to remember, keep track of everything. There was so much to keep track of though and he couldn’t quite decide what to do in order to take control of the situation. The steady stream of people coming to see him kept him constantly busy with questions and instructions, not allowing him more than a fast fleeting minute or two to sort out his thoughts. It was all something of a daze - falling, the ambulance, the emergency room, and now this. Maybe this was what panic felt like - but when you panicked, weren’t you supposed to try to escape? Was there a word for being so confused and worried that you simply went along with what everyone said? He felt the therapist nudge his arm slightly. “You can breathe out.” As soon as he let out the breath, the therapist’s cold stethoscope moved to another place on his back. “And again.”
Falling isn’t supposed to lead to something like this, Yukimura thought hazily while trying once again to take in his surroundings. The room was small, and one entire wall was just a big window facing the nurses’ station and other rooms. They hadn’t even bothered to pull the curtain closed.
“One more. Slower this time,” the therapist said from behind him, and he felt the stethoscope on his back again.
“Try to relax a little,” his mother said, even though her own voice sounded tense. Yukimura felt her hand cover one of his own. At least Kaa-san was there. He’d been surprisingly relieved to see her when she came into the Emergency Room, but the feeling had quickly dissipated as he’d realized she couldn’t actually do anything, couldn’t just tell the doctors that she’d take him home and make him rest a few days.
“Breathe in and suck on the mouthpiece just like a straw; it’s just another breathing test.” The therapist instructed as the nurse stepped over and began loosening the hospital gown they had made him change into. Yukimura gave her a questioning glance while sucking on the tube the therapist held next to his face.
“Don’t let me interrupt; I’ve just got heart monitor stickers for your chest.” The nurse patted his shoulder - did everyone around here pat you on the shoulder? - and held up a sheet of foam stickers. “It will only take a minute or two.”
“Why…” Yukimura began asking, then cleared his throat. The stickers didn’t hurt but they felt wrong, like everything else. “Why do I need that?”
He didn’t get an answer though, because a doctor came into the room just then. A neurologist. Why did he need a neurologist? Had one of the doctors who saw him in the ER been a neurologist? What exactly did a neurologist do, again? Nerves. They worked with nerves. And what they thought he had - it destroyed nerves. Damn, he had to keep track somehow. Had to.
“Sit on the edge of the bed, if you can,” the doctor instructed. What followed was a barrage of questions and getting reflexes checked and being asked to move just about every part of his achy body. Yukimura raised his arms over his head, knowing he should have been able to push them straighter and higher. “Any higher?” the doctor asked with a frown, but he didn’t push. Instead he held out one hand. “I want to see you stand up.”
The attempt to get up was so poor that the doctor didn’t even ask to see him walk after he was on his feet. Yukimura watched as his mother followed the doctor out of the room, could see them talking through the window while the nurse helped him get back into bed. She tugged the blankets up and tilted her head a little. “Do you need anything?”
“No,” Yukimura managed while trying to bring his knees up to his chest. It took way too much effort and he gave up halfway. The “no” was a lie. He needed to calm down. To block everything out. Take control of something. He realized that the hospital room was actually quiet for once and let out a long breath before looking up at the nurse. “Actually, could I use the telephone?”
“Sure.” She picked the telephone up from the room’s supply cart and placed it next to him on the bed. “Do you need me to dial for you?”
“No, but thank you.” Yukimura managed to get a grip on the receiver and held it to his ear. His fingers were clumsy and it took longer than it should have to dial Sanada’s home number. Sanada’s parents didn’t like anyone to phone this time of the evening, but hopefully they’d understand.
--
“Gen-kun? Telephone.”
Sanada glanced up from his homework to see his mother standing in the doorway with the kitchen’s cordless phone in one hand. She held it out to him. “It’s Yukimura-kun.”
“Thank you,” Sanada took the telephone and spoke into the receiver. “Yukimura? Are you still at the hospital?”
“Yes,” Yukimura replied, peering around his ICU room again. There really wasn’t much to see. He knew there were monitors above his bed, but other than that there was just the TV, a folding chair, and a supply cart. He picked at the blankets a little and managed to pull one around his shoulders. “What I have…they say it can get worse, so they’re watching me just in case. They think I’m going to be here for awhile.”
“Oh.” On his end of the line Sanada sat down on his bed, feeling tense. How long, exactly, was “awhile” supposed to be?
Yukimura pulled the blanket around his shoulders a little more, hoping Sanada would ask him a question or something. Instead the line was silent. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sanada, the doctor said it will probably be at least a few weeks before I’m better. I…I need you to watch the team for me.”
“Of course,” Sanada found himself responding, “I promise.” A few weeks, at least. So what Yagyuu had said was true. Sanada felt the tension in his shoulders increase and remembered his earlier conversation with Renji. “Are you all right?”
Yukimura nodded even though Sanada couldn’t see him. “I’m fine. I mean…” He was tempted to try to explain to Sanada that he was…well, what? Overwhelmed? Scared? Yes, he was scared. That was the last thing Sanada would want to know. He swallowed. “I’m all right. Tell everyone hi. It was nice of them to stay.”
“I will,” Sanada affirmed, relaxing just a little. Yukimura sounded calm enough, despite being in the hospital. He let out a long breath and stretched. “Anything else?”
“I left my binder in the clubroom,” Yukimura remembered, the thought almost comforting. He pressed his lips together, making a decision. “You can use what’s in there. I wrote down some notes on everyone, some things to work on. Don’t cancel any practices.” He paused, pulling his blanket tighter again. It rubbed against the hospital gown and monitor wires, feeling unnatural. “Tell everyone I’m sorry about this.”
“It will be fine.” Sanada stared across the room to the woodblock prints and calligraphy sheets his mother had framed and hung on the walls for decoration. He stood up and walked over to the prints, glancing over the sheets without really reading anything, waiting for Yukimura to respond.
“It will be fine,” Yukimura affirmed when Sanada didn’t say anything else. Some more encouragement would have been nice, but when had Sanada ever needed to encourage him before? And it would be fine. It had to be. He relaxed his grip on the phone slightly. “I’ll let you know when it’s okay to visit. We’ll go over practice schedules.”
“Good. We’ll run drills tomorrow.” Sanada sat down on his bed again. Yukimura had to be doing okay if he was already thinking about practice. “I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow.”
That was pretty much a good-bye from Sanada. Yukimura debated saying something else to make him talk longer. As soon as he hung up the phone he would be back to concentrating on the hospital room and being sick again. He sighed. “Bye, Sanada.”
“Talk to you tomorrow,” Sanada answered, then pressed the end button on the phone.
It was a good two weeks before he talked to Yukimura again.