[adamczak]
AND HERE UPON THE EARTH
by summerslaughter
Yukimura doesn’t collapse in the middle of a tennis match, or even a practice match. Instead, they’re almost to the clubhouse after Regulars’ practice, Yukimura just a step behind Sanada, when it happens.
It’s not a particularly cold day, or a grey and cloudy day, or a rainy day. It’s sunny, almost unseasonably warm even though it’s January, and Sanada is watching Niou, Kirihara, and Marui all try to squeeze themselves through the clubhouse door at once, Niou’s judicious use of elbows propelling him through first.
It’s a day just like any other day. There’s no big commotion, no hint of the aching months ahead of them. Sanada doesn’t even see Yukimura fall.
****
“The flu, maybe,” Renji offers when he returns from helping Yukimura to the nurse’s office. “Seiichi has been complaining of tiredness and achy muscles lately.”
Sanada nods. Seiichi hadn’t seemed sick, but he had complained to Sanada too. The flu, then.
“Sucks to be Buchou,” Kirihara says as he follows Jackal out the door.
****
It’s strange not having Yukimura at practice. It’s not actually all that different; Sanada still yells at Niou and Kirihara, still assigns the first years swing practice, still gives laps, still discusses training menus with Renji. He does all the things he’s always done. Yukimura’s absence hasn’t added very much to his duties, but it feels strange. It feels wrong to not hear Yukimura yelling for them to try harder, work faster, and fix that sloppy serve, Akaya! every few minutes. He misses Yukimura’s presence, his passion.
Yukimura calls everyday during Sanada’s walk home demanding to know how that day’s practice went and Sanada and Renji have taken turns bringing Yukimura his homework, but it’s not enough. Sanada will be glad when Yukimura’s back. He can’t remember the last time Yukimura was sick. Maybe that’s just Yukimura, though. He doesn’t seem as sick as Sanada had expected someone with the flu to be. Yukimura’s been in bed every time Sanada’s been there. He says he feels weak and all his muscles hurt, but there’s no fever and he just doesn’t seem that sick. Sanada hopes this will mean a speedy recovery.
It’s only been a few days, but Sanada feels off kilter, as though he’ll lose his balance without Yukimura there to steady him.
****
Yukimura’s voice is small and static-y over the phone. “My mother took me to the doctor today. They’re running some tests.”
“Tests? What kind of tests?” Sanada can hear the hint of panic in his own voice, but he can’t seem to stop it. “I thought it was the flu?”
“Just some blood work,” Yukimura says dismissively. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“But…” Sanada says. “Do you want me to come over?”
“It’s fine, Genichirou. It’s nothing.” Yukimura sighs. He sounds annoyed. “Now, tell me about practice. Just because I’m not there doesn’t mean you can slack off.”
Sanada frowns. He wants to ask about the tests and the doctor’s visit. He wants Yukimura to sound like he cares about his health. He wants Yukimura back. “I had them try out different doubles combinations like you suggested,” he says instead. “Marui still needs to work on his stamina. Jackal’s used to compensating for him, but the others are not.”
“Hmm,” Yukimura says, thoughtful. “I want you to increase the number of laps for everyone. Renji can draw up some specific exercises for Marui.” The conversation spins out in front of them. Tennis, tennis, tennis, and nothing else.
****
Guillain-Barré. Guillain-Barré. Sanada can barely pronounce the foreign words, much less understand what exactly they mean. Yukimura doesn’t offer much information; when Sanada presses him, all he says is that it affects the nervous system. Sanada tries to ask how, but Yukimura’s already discussing possible training exercises he wants Sanada to talk to Renji about.
When Sanada gets home from Yukimura’s house he calls Renji. Renji has never heard of Guillain-Barré either, but when Sanada asks if Renji’s sure he doesn’t know anything about it for the third time Renji asks if Sanada would like him to do some research. Sanada knows that Renji will do the research regardless of what he says, but he’s still glad for the offer.
Renji turns up on Sanada’s doorstep two hours later, a sheaf of papers in his hands. “I took notes,” he says. “I thought you’d like to know as soon as possible.”
Renji sounds uncertain, hesitant in a way Sanada can’t remember ever hearing before. He knows Renji’s not bringing him good news. They climb the stairs to Sanada’s room in silence.
Once inside Sanada steels himself. “What did you find out?” His voice is too even, too flat, too calm.
Renji looks up sharply, watching Sanada’s face for a moment. He sighs and hands Sanada the papers.
Sanada looks at them, muddling his way through the unfamiliar medical language. Acute inflammatory demyelinating polyneuropathy, he reads. Immune response to foreign antigens. Attack on the peripheral nerves. Possible axonal degeneration in severe cases. Inflammation of myelin leading to muscle paralysis.
Muscle paralysis. The words run together on the page and he looks at Renji helplessly.
Renji takes a seat on the bed. “His body is attacking its own nerves. He’ll start feeling weakness and loss of muscle control in his legs, then his arms. He may have problems breathing. He may need to be hospitalized. He’ll definitely need physical therapy.” Sanada’s glad that Renji’s not the type to sugarcoat things, but this is worse than he’d imagined.
“There’s no cure,” Renji says quietly. “There is a possibility of recovery, but it could take anywhere from months to a year and he may still suffer symptoms occasionally. It really depends on how severe Seiichi’s case is. There is a 10% chance he’ll have serious disabilities for the rest of his life.”
Sanada feels like he’s drowning, choking on the soft words. He’s been adrift for all this time and now the water is rising over his head, filling his lungs.
****
Sanada tells the entire team after practice on Monday. Instead of dismissing the non-regulars, he gathers everyone on the courts. Sanada knows the regulars will ask Renji for more information later, but he’s not above sugarcoating it for the rest of the team. He tells them Yukimura has Guillain-Barré Syndrome. He tells them Yukimura may have to spend some time in the hospital. He tells them Yukimura will need physical therapy, but they are expecting a full recovery. He lies.
He tells them that Yukimura will be back. Always win Rikkaidai, he says.
****
The weeks turn into months. Yukimura is in and out of the hospital. A week here, a few days there. At the end of March he comes to school to take his finals.
In April the new school year starts. Yukimura comes to school for the first few days. He joins his new class. He meets his new teacher. He comes to tennis practice to see the new first years. For those few days, Sanada’s world almost seems normal again. Yukimura doesn’t touch his racket, he’s clearly weaker, slower, but he’s there. It’s enough for Sanada.
They eat lunch with Renji and Yagyuu on the school lawn and discuss this year’s competition.
“It’s early still,” Renji says, plucking a slice of pickled plum from his bento, “but I think Hyoutei has a good chance of being our most serious opponent at Regionals.”
Sanada groans.
Yukimura takes one look at his face and laughs. “You don’t have to talk to them,” he says. “Just beat them.”
Yagyuu adjusts his glasses. “Problems with Hyoutei, Sanada-kun?”
“Sanada’s not particularly fond of Atobe,” Yukimura answers for him with a grin. “Anyone else, Renji?”
“Yamabuki can be expected to make it to Nationals again this year,” Renji replies. “I’ve heard that Seigaku has a decent team as well.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing how Tezuka’s playing this year,” Sanada admits.
“It doesn’t matter.” Yukimura’s eyes are wolfish, fierce. “We’ll crush them all.”
“You sound like Akaya,” Renji says with a smile.
“Always win Rikkaidai, hmm?” Yagyuu asks, deadpan.
Yukimura laughs, leaning back on the grass. “Always win Rikkaidai.”
If Sanada could hold them all here, in this moment, he would.
****
In May Rikkaidai wins the District Tournament.
Yukimura’s hospital stays gradually become longer and longer. He hasn’t come to school since April.
Practice gradually becomes harsher, fiercer. There’s a tension in the air that never used to be there before. Sanada tries to be calm, to lead them as best he can in Yukimura’s place, but it’s not the same. Yukimura is the strength behind Rikkai, the driving force that holds them up, pushes them forward.
On the surface everything is as normal as ever. They practice. They play. Sanada assigns laps and yells at Kirihara.
Underneath it all they are slowly falling apart.
Marui and Jackal have taken to making a big production of their pregame rituals. Marui has coerced some of the first years into bringing him his cakes right before every match. He eyes each piece carefully, as though the outcome of the match depends on which one he chooses. Jackal buys a new electric razor and waits until Marui starts eating before he turns it on. He does his best to finish before Marui takes his last bite.
Niou and Yagyuu have retreated further and further into their own world. They rarely spend any time apart outside of classes. They have whispered conversations about the merits of hair dye versus wigs. Sanada thinks Yagyuu might be teaching Niou his Laser Beam. He doesn’t ask.
Sanada catches Renji muttering facts and figures under his breath when he thinks there’s no one else nearby.
Sanada knows he’s cracking just as much as any of the others. He can feel the tension, coiled and ready to strike, just under the surface of his skin. He hits Kirihara more in these few months than he has in all the rest of the time they’ve known each other.
****
Yukimura’s condition is deteriorating. He never complains, but every time Sanada sees him he’s a little weaker. He spends more time in bed, even at home. His hands tremble more and more and Sanada notices him dropping things, as though he can’t grip them tightly enough.
One afternoon, when Sanada brings him his homework, Yukimura has a large bruise spreading across his forearm. Yukimura changes the subject when Sanada brings it up, asking if Renji’s scouted any of their upcoming opponents recently. As he’s leaving, Sanada mentions it to Yukimura’s mother. She tells him that yesterday Yukimura faltered and fell down the stairs. She starts crying before she gets the words all the way out.
Sanada remembers his conversation with Renji, the papers carefully tucked away in Sanada’s desk. Weakness starting in the arms and legs. Muscle paralysis.
****
After Sanada finishes his homework he carefully pulls out his best calligraphy brushes. He grinds the ink, losing himself in the careful movements, the rasp of stone against stone.
Sanada writes Clear and serene as a polished mirror and still water. He writes Always victory, never defeat. These he will keep to remind himself.
For Yagyuu he writes A Gentleman is no vessel. For Jackal he writes Working diligently, enduring hardships. He writes something for each regular and carefully puts the thick papers in his school bag when he finishes.
He thinks of Yukimura and writes the character for Strength, each stoke of his brush careful, considerate, deliberate. He thinks of Yukimura and writes Good Health over and over until it’s as close to perfect as he can manage. Sanada waits for the ink to dry before tucking these two sheets of calligraphy paper into his bag, apart from the others. He doesn’t give them to Yukimura.
In June Rikkaidai wins the Prefectural Tournament.
Yukimura goes into the hospital to stay.
****
The regulars visit Yukimura in the hospital at least two or three times a week. They pile into Yukimura’s room or out onto the roof, wherever Yukimura happens to be at the moment. They’re loud, cheerful, their voices banishing the hush that hangs over the hospital corridors and earning them unhappy looks from the nurses’ station. Marui brings Yukimura his favorite cakes and Jackal spends most of the visit trying to keep Marui from eating them before Yukimura can. Akaya whines about his English homework. Niou regales Yukimura with school gossip and the particulars of his latest prank, Yagyuu adding a detail here or an admonishment there. Renji helps Yukimura with his homework and brings him notes from that day’s tennis practice. Yukimura smiles and laughs with them, but the smiles don’t quite reach his eyes.
Sanada is quiet, watching the rest of his team, but he always stays to talk to Yukimura after they leave. Usually Renji stays as well. Every time it’s the same.
“How is the physical therapy going?” Sanada asks once the rest of the regulars have left and it’s just him and Renji and Yukimura lying pale in his hospital bed.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Yukimura says. “I watched the tapes Renji gave me. You know, from last week’s practice matches. Niou needs to tighten up his footwork and Akaya’s serve is still off.”
“Okay,” Sanada says. “Have you heard anything new from the doctors?”
“Not really,” Yukimura replies. “Renji, I want you to work with Akaya. Maybe you’ll have better luck with Akaya’s serve. Akaya could use some more practice with doubles as well.”
Renji nods. “I do have a few suggestions that might help.”
“Okay,” Sanada says. “How have you been feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Yukimura rolls his eyes. “I want Yagyuu and Niou to get some more singles practice in. They’ve been playing nothing but doubles lately.”
Sometimes Sanada wants to hit Yukimura. To watch the shock blossom in his eyes, the red handprint across his cheek. Sanada wants to scream at him. To scream and scream until Yukimura finally listens. Tennis is not everything, he wants to say. Tennis is not everything.
Sanada keeps his mouth shut and his hands to himself.
****
“I think it’s easier for him,” Renji says out of nowhere on the way home after practice one day. “Not to talk about it.”
“But…” Sanada scowls at the ground.
Renji’s voice is calm, emotionless. “I’m sure he spends enough time thinking about it.”
Renji doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to; Sanada’s not stupid. He can hear what Renji leaves unsaid. You’re only making it harder.
****
Sanada slips into the dojo after the rest of his family has gone to bed, his bare feet almost silent on the soft tatami. Usually time in the dojo calms him, centers him. Sanada knows he needs that calm now more than ever. He ignores the shinai, the bamboo practice swords, in favor of live steel and straw dummies. The katana is heavy in his hands.
Sanada breathes deeply, doing his best to clear his mind, to push his thoughts away. He pushes and pushes until everything is gone: Yukimura’s illness, his responsibilities as acting captain, Yukimura’s unwillingness to talk about anything other than tennis, Renji’s well-meaning advice, the upcoming tournament, Yukimura, Yukimura, Yukimura.
He breathes slowly, deeply, until the sounds of the garden fountain, the sounds of streets beyond his house have faded into the stillness of the night. Until he is that stillness. Until all he hears is the quiet rush of his own breath.
Sanada strikes.
The blade slices cleanly, straw littering the tatami at Sanada’s feet. He does not feel any better.
****
The Kantou Tournament finals are postponed for a week because of rain. Sanada holds extra practices, keeps the regulars even later after normal practices. He pushes them harder, farther, until they are all falling over from exhaustion.
There’s not much time left over for visiting Yukimura, but, on Thursday, three days before the finals are scheduled, Sanada cuts practice short and they all go to the hospital together. Yukimura listens to their chatter with a faint smile, but he doesn’t participate. They don’t stay long.
Yukimura calls Sanada as he’s on his way home. “I’d like to talk to you,” he says, “without the rest of the team. Can you come to the hospital tomorrow?”
****
“Not here,” Yukimura says with a frown when Sanada walks into his room. “Let’s go up to the roof.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?” Sanada asks before he can stop himself.
For once Yukimura doesn’t roll his eyes or change the subject to tennis. “The doctors would like me to get as much exercise as I can,” he says. “The physical therapist said it’s good to use my muscles as much as possible.”
“After you then,” Sanada motions to the door. He’s not going to ask anything else and risk Yukimura shutting him out again.
When they reach the roof, Yukimura walks over to the edge and looks down to the street below. He doesn’t say anything.
Sanada has a million questions he wants to ask, What’s wrong? Why did you call me here?, but instead he talks about tennis. He tells Yukimura things Yukimura already knows. “We’ve made it to the Kantou finals. Undefeated, of course. It hasn’t been easy without you, but the team is strong. We will be the champions again this year.”
“Of course,” Yukimura says without turning away from the street below. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Sanada wants to tell Yukimura that he could never be trouble, that he shouldn’t worry about things like that, but all he says is “Focus on your recovery.”
Yukimura sighs.
“What’s wrong?” Sanada can’t stop himself from asking.
“I’m sure you know that I’m not getting any better.” Yukimura’s expression is wistful, sad in a way that Sanada’s never seen before. “There’s a new experimental surgery the doctors want to try. If it’s successful, I should be able to make a complete recovery.”
“That’s great!” Sanada tries to keep the hope and excitement from his voice. He can tell he’s failing miserably. Yukimura sighs again. “This is good news, isn’t it?” Sanada asks.
“I suppose,” Yukimura says. He turns to look at Sanada for the first time since they left his hospital room. “The success rate of the operation is very low and there are no guarantees. If it works I should get better. If it fails it may only make things worse.”
“Oh,” Sanada says.
“I don’t really have a choice,” Yukimura says. “I can’t play tennis like this and the doctors say I’m only going to keep getting worse.”
“Oh,” Sanada says.
Yukimura looks back down at the street, his eyes following a woman leading her small son along the sidewalk for a moment. “Yeah.”
Sanada’s head is spinning, trying to process this, the first information about his illness that Yukimura’s freely given him. “If it’s the only chance then it’s worth the risk,” he finally says.
“That’s what I thought.” Yukimura closes his eyes. “The surgery is scheduled for Sunday.”
****
That night Sanada dreams of tennis. Of playing against Yukimura on a court that stretches as far as he can see. Yukimura is wearing Rikkaidai yellow hospital pyjamas with his Regulars’ jersey over his shoulders. Sanada serves, the ball arcing up, over the net and down into the gut of Yukimura’s racket. Yukimura backhands, a hard driving cross court shot. Sanada runs for the ball, but the point is lost before he’s even reached the center line.
Yukimura laughs. You suck, Genichirou, he yells. You’ll never beat me if you play like that. I’m surprised you can even beat the first years.
Sanada tugs his hat down and serves again. They rally, the ball flashing back and forth over the net, brighter than the sun.
Sanada wakes up smiling for the first time in months.
****
Tomorrow the doctors will wheel Yukimura into the operating room. Tomorrow Rikkaidai will win the Kantou Tournament. Tomorrow Sanada will hand Yukimura a gold medal before the surgery starts.
fin
Information on Guillain-Barré Syndrome taken from Wikipedia (other than the part about the surgery, which Konomi apparently pulled out of his ass.)
Translations of Sanada’s calligraphy by ahina_gold, here
by summerslaughter
Yukimura doesn’t collapse in the middle of a tennis match, or even a practice match. Instead, they’re almost to the clubhouse after Regulars’ practice, Yukimura just a step behind Sanada, when it happens.
It’s not a particularly cold day, or a grey and cloudy day, or a rainy day. It’s sunny, almost unseasonably warm even though it’s January, and Sanada is watching Niou, Kirihara, and Marui all try to squeeze themselves through the clubhouse door at once, Niou’s judicious use of elbows propelling him through first.
It’s a day just like any other day. There’s no big commotion, no hint of the aching months ahead of them. Sanada doesn’t even see Yukimura fall.
****
“The flu, maybe,” Renji offers when he returns from helping Yukimura to the nurse’s office. “Seiichi has been complaining of tiredness and achy muscles lately.”
Sanada nods. Seiichi hadn’t seemed sick, but he had complained to Sanada too. The flu, then.
“Sucks to be Buchou,” Kirihara says as he follows Jackal out the door.
****
It’s strange not having Yukimura at practice. It’s not actually all that different; Sanada still yells at Niou and Kirihara, still assigns the first years swing practice, still gives laps, still discusses training menus with Renji. He does all the things he’s always done. Yukimura’s absence hasn’t added very much to his duties, but it feels strange. It feels wrong to not hear Yukimura yelling for them to try harder, work faster, and fix that sloppy serve, Akaya! every few minutes. He misses Yukimura’s presence, his passion.
Yukimura calls everyday during Sanada’s walk home demanding to know how that day’s practice went and Sanada and Renji have taken turns bringing Yukimura his homework, but it’s not enough. Sanada will be glad when Yukimura’s back. He can’t remember the last time Yukimura was sick. Maybe that’s just Yukimura, though. He doesn’t seem as sick as Sanada had expected someone with the flu to be. Yukimura’s been in bed every time Sanada’s been there. He says he feels weak and all his muscles hurt, but there’s no fever and he just doesn’t seem that sick. Sanada hopes this will mean a speedy recovery.
It’s only been a few days, but Sanada feels off kilter, as though he’ll lose his balance without Yukimura there to steady him.
****
Yukimura’s voice is small and static-y over the phone. “My mother took me to the doctor today. They’re running some tests.”
“Tests? What kind of tests?” Sanada can hear the hint of panic in his own voice, but he can’t seem to stop it. “I thought it was the flu?”
“Just some blood work,” Yukimura says dismissively. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“But…” Sanada says. “Do you want me to come over?”
“It’s fine, Genichirou. It’s nothing.” Yukimura sighs. He sounds annoyed. “Now, tell me about practice. Just because I’m not there doesn’t mean you can slack off.”
Sanada frowns. He wants to ask about the tests and the doctor’s visit. He wants Yukimura to sound like he cares about his health. He wants Yukimura back. “I had them try out different doubles combinations like you suggested,” he says instead. “Marui still needs to work on his stamina. Jackal’s used to compensating for him, but the others are not.”
“Hmm,” Yukimura says, thoughtful. “I want you to increase the number of laps for everyone. Renji can draw up some specific exercises for Marui.” The conversation spins out in front of them. Tennis, tennis, tennis, and nothing else.
****
Guillain-Barré. Guillain-Barré. Sanada can barely pronounce the foreign words, much less understand what exactly they mean. Yukimura doesn’t offer much information; when Sanada presses him, all he says is that it affects the nervous system. Sanada tries to ask how, but Yukimura’s already discussing possible training exercises he wants Sanada to talk to Renji about.
When Sanada gets home from Yukimura’s house he calls Renji. Renji has never heard of Guillain-Barré either, but when Sanada asks if Renji’s sure he doesn’t know anything about it for the third time Renji asks if Sanada would like him to do some research. Sanada knows that Renji will do the research regardless of what he says, but he’s still glad for the offer.
Renji turns up on Sanada’s doorstep two hours later, a sheaf of papers in his hands. “I took notes,” he says. “I thought you’d like to know as soon as possible.”
Renji sounds uncertain, hesitant in a way Sanada can’t remember ever hearing before. He knows Renji’s not bringing him good news. They climb the stairs to Sanada’s room in silence.
Once inside Sanada steels himself. “What did you find out?” His voice is too even, too flat, too calm.
Renji looks up sharply, watching Sanada’s face for a moment. He sighs and hands Sanada the papers.
Sanada looks at them, muddling his way through the unfamiliar medical language. Acute inflammatory demyelinating polyneuropathy, he reads. Immune response to foreign antigens. Attack on the peripheral nerves. Possible axonal degeneration in severe cases. Inflammation of myelin leading to muscle paralysis.
Muscle paralysis. The words run together on the page and he looks at Renji helplessly.
Renji takes a seat on the bed. “His body is attacking its own nerves. He’ll start feeling weakness and loss of muscle control in his legs, then his arms. He may have problems breathing. He may need to be hospitalized. He’ll definitely need physical therapy.” Sanada’s glad that Renji’s not the type to sugarcoat things, but this is worse than he’d imagined.
“There’s no cure,” Renji says quietly. “There is a possibility of recovery, but it could take anywhere from months to a year and he may still suffer symptoms occasionally. It really depends on how severe Seiichi’s case is. There is a 10% chance he’ll have serious disabilities for the rest of his life.”
Sanada feels like he’s drowning, choking on the soft words. He’s been adrift for all this time and now the water is rising over his head, filling his lungs.
****
Sanada tells the entire team after practice on Monday. Instead of dismissing the non-regulars, he gathers everyone on the courts. Sanada knows the regulars will ask Renji for more information later, but he’s not above sugarcoating it for the rest of the team. He tells them Yukimura has Guillain-Barré Syndrome. He tells them Yukimura may have to spend some time in the hospital. He tells them Yukimura will need physical therapy, but they are expecting a full recovery. He lies.
He tells them that Yukimura will be back. Always win Rikkaidai, he says.
****
The weeks turn into months. Yukimura is in and out of the hospital. A week here, a few days there. At the end of March he comes to school to take his finals.
In April the new school year starts. Yukimura comes to school for the first few days. He joins his new class. He meets his new teacher. He comes to tennis practice to see the new first years. For those few days, Sanada’s world almost seems normal again. Yukimura doesn’t touch his racket, he’s clearly weaker, slower, but he’s there. It’s enough for Sanada.
They eat lunch with Renji and Yagyuu on the school lawn and discuss this year’s competition.
“It’s early still,” Renji says, plucking a slice of pickled plum from his bento, “but I think Hyoutei has a good chance of being our most serious opponent at Regionals.”
Sanada groans.
Yukimura takes one look at his face and laughs. “You don’t have to talk to them,” he says. “Just beat them.”
Yagyuu adjusts his glasses. “Problems with Hyoutei, Sanada-kun?”
“Sanada’s not particularly fond of Atobe,” Yukimura answers for him with a grin. “Anyone else, Renji?”
“Yamabuki can be expected to make it to Nationals again this year,” Renji replies. “I’ve heard that Seigaku has a decent team as well.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing how Tezuka’s playing this year,” Sanada admits.
“It doesn’t matter.” Yukimura’s eyes are wolfish, fierce. “We’ll crush them all.”
“You sound like Akaya,” Renji says with a smile.
“Always win Rikkaidai, hmm?” Yagyuu asks, deadpan.
Yukimura laughs, leaning back on the grass. “Always win Rikkaidai.”
If Sanada could hold them all here, in this moment, he would.
****
In May Rikkaidai wins the District Tournament.
Yukimura’s hospital stays gradually become longer and longer. He hasn’t come to school since April.
Practice gradually becomes harsher, fiercer. There’s a tension in the air that never used to be there before. Sanada tries to be calm, to lead them as best he can in Yukimura’s place, but it’s not the same. Yukimura is the strength behind Rikkai, the driving force that holds them up, pushes them forward.
On the surface everything is as normal as ever. They practice. They play. Sanada assigns laps and yells at Kirihara.
Underneath it all they are slowly falling apart.
Marui and Jackal have taken to making a big production of their pregame rituals. Marui has coerced some of the first years into bringing him his cakes right before every match. He eyes each piece carefully, as though the outcome of the match depends on which one he chooses. Jackal buys a new electric razor and waits until Marui starts eating before he turns it on. He does his best to finish before Marui takes his last bite.
Niou and Yagyuu have retreated further and further into their own world. They rarely spend any time apart outside of classes. They have whispered conversations about the merits of hair dye versus wigs. Sanada thinks Yagyuu might be teaching Niou his Laser Beam. He doesn’t ask.
Sanada catches Renji muttering facts and figures under his breath when he thinks there’s no one else nearby.
Sanada knows he’s cracking just as much as any of the others. He can feel the tension, coiled and ready to strike, just under the surface of his skin. He hits Kirihara more in these few months than he has in all the rest of the time they’ve known each other.
****
Yukimura’s condition is deteriorating. He never complains, but every time Sanada sees him he’s a little weaker. He spends more time in bed, even at home. His hands tremble more and more and Sanada notices him dropping things, as though he can’t grip them tightly enough.
One afternoon, when Sanada brings him his homework, Yukimura has a large bruise spreading across his forearm. Yukimura changes the subject when Sanada brings it up, asking if Renji’s scouted any of their upcoming opponents recently. As he’s leaving, Sanada mentions it to Yukimura’s mother. She tells him that yesterday Yukimura faltered and fell down the stairs. She starts crying before she gets the words all the way out.
Sanada remembers his conversation with Renji, the papers carefully tucked away in Sanada’s desk. Weakness starting in the arms and legs. Muscle paralysis.
****
After Sanada finishes his homework he carefully pulls out his best calligraphy brushes. He grinds the ink, losing himself in the careful movements, the rasp of stone against stone.
Sanada writes Clear and serene as a polished mirror and still water. He writes Always victory, never defeat. These he will keep to remind himself.
For Yagyuu he writes A Gentleman is no vessel. For Jackal he writes Working diligently, enduring hardships. He writes something for each regular and carefully puts the thick papers in his school bag when he finishes.
He thinks of Yukimura and writes the character for Strength, each stoke of his brush careful, considerate, deliberate. He thinks of Yukimura and writes Good Health over and over until it’s as close to perfect as he can manage. Sanada waits for the ink to dry before tucking these two sheets of calligraphy paper into his bag, apart from the others. He doesn’t give them to Yukimura.
In June Rikkaidai wins the Prefectural Tournament.
Yukimura goes into the hospital to stay.
****
The regulars visit Yukimura in the hospital at least two or three times a week. They pile into Yukimura’s room or out onto the roof, wherever Yukimura happens to be at the moment. They’re loud, cheerful, their voices banishing the hush that hangs over the hospital corridors and earning them unhappy looks from the nurses’ station. Marui brings Yukimura his favorite cakes and Jackal spends most of the visit trying to keep Marui from eating them before Yukimura can. Akaya whines about his English homework. Niou regales Yukimura with school gossip and the particulars of his latest prank, Yagyuu adding a detail here or an admonishment there. Renji helps Yukimura with his homework and brings him notes from that day’s tennis practice. Yukimura smiles and laughs with them, but the smiles don’t quite reach his eyes.
Sanada is quiet, watching the rest of his team, but he always stays to talk to Yukimura after they leave. Usually Renji stays as well. Every time it’s the same.
“How is the physical therapy going?” Sanada asks once the rest of the regulars have left and it’s just him and Renji and Yukimura lying pale in his hospital bed.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Yukimura says. “I watched the tapes Renji gave me. You know, from last week’s practice matches. Niou needs to tighten up his footwork and Akaya’s serve is still off.”
“Okay,” Sanada says. “Have you heard anything new from the doctors?”
“Not really,” Yukimura replies. “Renji, I want you to work with Akaya. Maybe you’ll have better luck with Akaya’s serve. Akaya could use some more practice with doubles as well.”
Renji nods. “I do have a few suggestions that might help.”
“Okay,” Sanada says. “How have you been feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Yukimura rolls his eyes. “I want Yagyuu and Niou to get some more singles practice in. They’ve been playing nothing but doubles lately.”
Sometimes Sanada wants to hit Yukimura. To watch the shock blossom in his eyes, the red handprint across his cheek. Sanada wants to scream at him. To scream and scream until Yukimura finally listens. Tennis is not everything, he wants to say. Tennis is not everything.
Sanada keeps his mouth shut and his hands to himself.
****
“I think it’s easier for him,” Renji says out of nowhere on the way home after practice one day. “Not to talk about it.”
“But…” Sanada scowls at the ground.
Renji’s voice is calm, emotionless. “I’m sure he spends enough time thinking about it.”
Renji doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to; Sanada’s not stupid. He can hear what Renji leaves unsaid. You’re only making it harder.
****
Sanada slips into the dojo after the rest of his family has gone to bed, his bare feet almost silent on the soft tatami. Usually time in the dojo calms him, centers him. Sanada knows he needs that calm now more than ever. He ignores the shinai, the bamboo practice swords, in favor of live steel and straw dummies. The katana is heavy in his hands.
Sanada breathes deeply, doing his best to clear his mind, to push his thoughts away. He pushes and pushes until everything is gone: Yukimura’s illness, his responsibilities as acting captain, Yukimura’s unwillingness to talk about anything other than tennis, Renji’s well-meaning advice, the upcoming tournament, Yukimura, Yukimura, Yukimura.
He breathes slowly, deeply, until the sounds of the garden fountain, the sounds of streets beyond his house have faded into the stillness of the night. Until he is that stillness. Until all he hears is the quiet rush of his own breath.
Sanada strikes.
The blade slices cleanly, straw littering the tatami at Sanada’s feet. He does not feel any better.
****
The Kantou Tournament finals are postponed for a week because of rain. Sanada holds extra practices, keeps the regulars even later after normal practices. He pushes them harder, farther, until they are all falling over from exhaustion.
There’s not much time left over for visiting Yukimura, but, on Thursday, three days before the finals are scheduled, Sanada cuts practice short and they all go to the hospital together. Yukimura listens to their chatter with a faint smile, but he doesn’t participate. They don’t stay long.
Yukimura calls Sanada as he’s on his way home. “I’d like to talk to you,” he says, “without the rest of the team. Can you come to the hospital tomorrow?”
****
“Not here,” Yukimura says with a frown when Sanada walks into his room. “Let’s go up to the roof.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it?” Sanada asks before he can stop himself.
For once Yukimura doesn’t roll his eyes or change the subject to tennis. “The doctors would like me to get as much exercise as I can,” he says. “The physical therapist said it’s good to use my muscles as much as possible.”
“After you then,” Sanada motions to the door. He’s not going to ask anything else and risk Yukimura shutting him out again.
When they reach the roof, Yukimura walks over to the edge and looks down to the street below. He doesn’t say anything.
Sanada has a million questions he wants to ask, What’s wrong? Why did you call me here?, but instead he talks about tennis. He tells Yukimura things Yukimura already knows. “We’ve made it to the Kantou finals. Undefeated, of course. It hasn’t been easy without you, but the team is strong. We will be the champions again this year.”
“Of course,” Yukimura says without turning away from the street below. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Sanada wants to tell Yukimura that he could never be trouble, that he shouldn’t worry about things like that, but all he says is “Focus on your recovery.”
Yukimura sighs.
“What’s wrong?” Sanada can’t stop himself from asking.
“I’m sure you know that I’m not getting any better.” Yukimura’s expression is wistful, sad in a way that Sanada’s never seen before. “There’s a new experimental surgery the doctors want to try. If it’s successful, I should be able to make a complete recovery.”
“That’s great!” Sanada tries to keep the hope and excitement from his voice. He can tell he’s failing miserably. Yukimura sighs again. “This is good news, isn’t it?” Sanada asks.
“I suppose,” Yukimura says. He turns to look at Sanada for the first time since they left his hospital room. “The success rate of the operation is very low and there are no guarantees. If it works I should get better. If it fails it may only make things worse.”
“Oh,” Sanada says.
“I don’t really have a choice,” Yukimura says. “I can’t play tennis like this and the doctors say I’m only going to keep getting worse.”
“Oh,” Sanada says.
Yukimura looks back down at the street, his eyes following a woman leading her small son along the sidewalk for a moment. “Yeah.”
Sanada’s head is spinning, trying to process this, the first information about his illness that Yukimura’s freely given him. “If it’s the only chance then it’s worth the risk,” he finally says.
“That’s what I thought.” Yukimura closes his eyes. “The surgery is scheduled for Sunday.”
****
That night Sanada dreams of tennis. Of playing against Yukimura on a court that stretches as far as he can see. Yukimura is wearing Rikkaidai yellow hospital pyjamas with his Regulars’ jersey over his shoulders. Sanada serves, the ball arcing up, over the net and down into the gut of Yukimura’s racket. Yukimura backhands, a hard driving cross court shot. Sanada runs for the ball, but the point is lost before he’s even reached the center line.
Yukimura laughs. You suck, Genichirou, he yells. You’ll never beat me if you play like that. I’m surprised you can even beat the first years.
Sanada tugs his hat down and serves again. They rally, the ball flashing back and forth over the net, brighter than the sun.
Sanada wakes up smiling for the first time in months.
****
Tomorrow the doctors will wheel Yukimura into the operating room. Tomorrow Rikkaidai will win the Kantou Tournament. Tomorrow Sanada will hand Yukimura a gold medal before the surgery starts.
fin
Information on Guillain-Barré Syndrome taken from Wikipedia (other than the part about the surgery, which Konomi apparently pulled out of his ass.)
Translations of Sanada’s calligraphy by ahina_gold, here