Title: Rainstorms
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Character(s) or Pairing: Yukimura, Yanagi
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Word Count: unknown
Summary: Yanagi likes the rain.
A/N: Written for a friend.
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Yanagi loves the morning after rainstorms: the air smells cleaner, feels fresher against his skin. There are no rainbows, the rain has long since stopped, and the cloud layer is still in place, but that late summer morning, Yanagi does not mind any of those: it is enough that it has rained and there is the possibility for more rain.
He leaves early; dawn breaks in his window every morning, and when it does not, he is still affected by it, albeit in a different way. He feels heavier that morning, but in a way he cannot describe. There is a melancholy in the air, but it does not feel sad: with each step toward the school, he feels contentment spreading through him, anchoring him to the ground even though he feels like it is possible to fly.
The school is deserted when he reaches it, except a few teachers who he greets politely and a few other early risers, students he knows from sharing classes or by name and reputation. But none of them are bound for the tennis courts, as he is, and he moves through the grounds without interruption.
Yanagi hears the rhythmic sound of a tennis ball hitting a wall, and a racket, before he even reaches the tennis courts, and he bypasses the locker room to see who has beaten him to the courts on such a morning; he expects most of the team to be late, and sluggish when arriving.
In his heart though, Yanagi knows who he will find: and when it is proven true, he forgets how to breathe, because he is seeing something more beautiful than the rain, something solid, no matter how ethereal in appearance.
He knows Yukimura is aware of his presence, because he gradually slows the speed of the returns down, until minutes have passed and the tennis ball is left on the ground, and Yukimura is turning toward him. "I'm not surprised you're here this early on such a morning, Renji." Yukimura speaks softly as Yanagi crosses the sidewalks and patches of grass that separate them, until he is standing next to Yukimura.
"I enjoy the rain," Yanagi tells him, but it doesn't matter, because first Yukimura's hands are on his arms and then Yukimura's lips are on his, and he forgets everything else. If he thought he could fly earlier, he knows he is flying now.