Prince of Tennis: [ Untitled Yukimura & Kirihara]
Title: [ untitled ]
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters/Pairings: Yukimura, Kirihara
Genre: Gen
Notes: This feels very unfinished. I did write a continuation to it, but it just... felt really forced. :P Not completely satisfied, in other words.
Yukimura doesn't go to watch the Senbatsu games.
He is still recuperating; his mother disallows him from leaving the house whenever it's unnecessary. So instead, he sits at home and tapes them on TV, carefully editing out the advertisements and barely stirring when his little sister brings him snacks. She doesn't whine about how her favorite program is on right now, and he is vaguely thankful.
His eyes are glued to the screen, taking in each movement the players make, absorbing their play styles and their flawed footwork. It is his usual manner of observing a match, mechanical, reflexive. He doesn't care about the score. He doesn’t care who wins. There is only apathy left where once there was blinding frustration.
Apathy hurts less than remembering how much better than them he is. How he should have been the one playing. How he still can't play more than four games without wanting to pass out.
So Seiichi just looks on. Observes clinically, gazing at the television with slowly glazing eyes and an empty heart.
Until, that is, Kirihara's name flashes on the screen, and his little demon-ace strides onto the court, confidence in every muscle, in every movement.
And then Seiichi straightens up and watches.
Watches, because it is Akaya, and Akaya is his. His player. Yukimura Seiichi's. His and his alone, in a way no one else can be -- even Sanada and Yanagi. Akaya is the one he trained, ran into the ground, molded. Akaya is the one who will succeed him.
The boy flashes a quick grin at the camera, a little crooked, a lot cocky. Seiichi feels a return smile, feathery-faint, at the corners of his mouth, even if something tightens inside him when Kirihara and Kevin Smith walk to their respective ends of the court.
"Win this for me," Seiichi murmurs to no one, and foolishly hopes Akaya can hear it, as selfish as the request may be. He knows Akaya would comply in an instant.
" - medical attention, a special rule will used. Team Japan will be switching in reserve player Echizen Ryoma in place of Kirihara Aka -- "
Seiichi turns off the television and tries to relax that choking, aching, bitter knot in his throat.
It isn't worth watching anymore.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters/Pairings: Yukimura, Kirihara
Genre: Gen
Notes: This feels very unfinished. I did write a continuation to it, but it just... felt really forced. :P Not completely satisfied, in other words.
Yukimura doesn't go to watch the Senbatsu games.
He is still recuperating; his mother disallows him from leaving the house whenever it's unnecessary. So instead, he sits at home and tapes them on TV, carefully editing out the advertisements and barely stirring when his little sister brings him snacks. She doesn't whine about how her favorite program is on right now, and he is vaguely thankful.
His eyes are glued to the screen, taking in each movement the players make, absorbing their play styles and their flawed footwork. It is his usual manner of observing a match, mechanical, reflexive. He doesn't care about the score. He doesn’t care who wins. There is only apathy left where once there was blinding frustration.
Apathy hurts less than remembering how much better than them he is. How he should have been the one playing. How he still can't play more than four games without wanting to pass out.
So Seiichi just looks on. Observes clinically, gazing at the television with slowly glazing eyes and an empty heart.
Until, that is, Kirihara's name flashes on the screen, and his little demon-ace strides onto the court, confidence in every muscle, in every movement.
And then Seiichi straightens up and watches.
Watches, because it is Akaya, and Akaya is his. His player. Yukimura Seiichi's. His and his alone, in a way no one else can be -- even Sanada and Yanagi. Akaya is the one he trained, ran into the ground, molded. Akaya is the one who will succeed him.
The boy flashes a quick grin at the camera, a little crooked, a lot cocky. Seiichi feels a return smile, feathery-faint, at the corners of his mouth, even if something tightens inside him when Kirihara and Kevin Smith walk to their respective ends of the court.
"Win this for me," Seiichi murmurs to no one, and foolishly hopes Akaya can hear it, as selfish as the request may be. He knows Akaya would comply in an instant.
" - medical attention, a special rule will used. Team Japan will be switching in reserve player Echizen Ryoma in place of Kirihara Aka -- "
Seiichi turns off the television and tries to relax that choking, aching, bitter knot in his throat.
It isn't worth watching anymore.