Title: Myself
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: G
Paring: Sanada x Yukimura
Disclaimer: The boys are Konomi Takeshi's, not mine.
Notes: Yukimura's POV. The idea of this fic came to my mind when I was writing the second part of TTD's first chapter. This is how things could have been. So it's kind of AU to my own fic. Weird.
I did research in net about Yukimura's disease, but at some points the manga and reality weren't possible to unite, so I molded them both to better suit my purposes.
This is for Hagane-sama. Thank you for all you've done for me! Hope you enjoy it!
Myself
Still feels like the first time
to stand here by your side
together regardless
we'll walk through the darkness
Still feels like the first day of my life
First Day Of My Life – The Rasmus
Chapter 1.
Breathless.
"Next is math and history, which one you want to do first?"
"I'm tired Genichirou. Can we do this later?" "Oh, of course. I'll do my homework now. You just rest for a while." "Aa, I'll take a quick nap." "I can leave. I think I can come back later." "No, I don't want you to leave. Stay with me. I'll just take a little catnap. Then we can do the history. Ok?" "All right."
His eyes were foggy and unfocused. His limbs felt heavy and awkward. The white cotton pajama he was wearing clinged to his back, damp from sweat and creased from all the rolling he had made in his bed before he got up, frustrated and disoriented.
It had been like this every time.
He hugged himself and slumped against the windowsill, feeling the slight chill of winter seeping trough the glass. He leaned his flushed cheek against the cool wood, rubbing his tangled hair of his face, just a little so he could gaze outside, smiling sadly to the little snowflakes floating in the dark scenery, painting the night with dreamlike softness.
He couldn't sleep.
Like so many night before the familiar fear crawled into him, clawing it's way, making him shiver. It was so hard to breath. The air wouldn't fill his lungs like it should have had, his body refusing to co-operate, deserting him. He knew this was just in his mind. He wasn't sick anymore, weak but not diseased. But still he couldn't breath.
He couldn't breath!
The panic was lurking just inside his mind. Maybe it was real this time. Maybe he wasn't cured after all. Maybe it had been just a sweet dream. He tried to find the call button but it wasn't where it should have been. Of course it wasn't, he was home. The dim light was dying away, darkness spreading. He couldn't see the snowflakes anymore.
"You look tired Yukimura. Should we take a break?"
"I'm all right, Genichirou. Please, continue."
"Are you sure? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine. Let's do this."
"You should take care of your body. If you'll exhaust yourself-"
"I said I'm fine, I should know, it's my body after all!"
"I'm just worried."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I understand."
"Maybe your right, I am a bit tired."
"You should sleep."
"But-"
"I'll be here when you wake up."
The lunchbox trembled a little in his hands. He clenched his teeth together stubbornly and let his weary gaze wander over the crowded cafeteria. Were it summer, he would have been eating outside, but as a cold day like this, and with his frail body, the thought of going out into the snow was disgusting. He took a deep breath, commanding his heavy feeds into moving and began to make his way through the mass of people towards Yanagi, whose serene expression was like a beacon in the faceless ocean that whirled around him.
He felt so weak, so useless. School had only started few weeks ago and he was already exhausted, stressed out from all the little challenges that were now part of his life, little everyday things that everybody else ignored as trivial. He wearied off from light exercises, he worried constantly about breathing and his pride wouldn't give away for him to show weakness or fear.
He knew he wasn't sick anymore and that the recovery would take time. But some tiny part of his mind wasn't ready to accept the fact yet. He felt sick and frustrated. Everything was so hard and he had to think all his actions twice before doing anything. He had to be careful but still push himself a little so progress would happen.
On top of everything, he felt like he had lost a year of his life, and in that year had happened so much. It was like his old friends were all strangers to him and everyday chores something completely odd and different. He felt like living the first day of his life all over again.
The strangers, that claimed to be his friends were all observing him, like some caged animal, waiting him to fall, to surrender to the weakness. He knew they were all worried about him but that didn't change the fact that they were watching. It was a relief that nobody else, save his family and friends, knew about his condition. And because of his family, he couldn't, in any situation, reveal his inner turmoil. They were already so happy that he felt strong enough to attend school. He just couldn't betray their trust in him.
But it was lonely to keep all the fears to himself, to fend of all helping hands in order to be strong. He wasn't weak! He couldn't always lean on others, and he wouldn't be a burden to his loved ones. He would survive this on his own or die trying.
Sitting in the table, across Yanagi, he tried to look casual and smiled sweetly, like he did always. He let his hands ease of from trembling, pretending to smooth his wavy hair, brushing it off from his face. Looking at Yanagi's peaceful expression made him feel a little less anxious and he began to open his lunchbox, genuine smile tucking the corners of his mouth.
"Wouldn't you rather eat in somewhere peaceful?" said a familiar voice behind him suddenly. Usually he would have noticed Genichirou right when he entered the same room but nowadays he was too concentrated in staying on top of his own emotions that the other had slipped under his radar.
"I'm fine in here." He could sense the irritation from the taller boy. It was a habit he had developed during his time in hospital. He had had time to learn every nuance of Genichirou's body language when the other had came to bring him his schoolwork so that he wouldn't have to do the final year at Junior High again. The stoic boy had stayed and helped him, talked with him and generally just kept him company. They had become even closer to each other than they had already been, and now he knew every meaning to every motion from Genichirou. He even prided himself to know things about the other, which he himself had not noticed.
"But you must be tired. You could rest at the same time." Of course, the rapport would extend the other way around too. If somebody could notice his exhaustion, it was Genichirou, who seemed to smell his weariness from other side of the school, no exceptions, and no questions asked, he just knew. But that wasn't a valid reason for him to show weakness in front of the other. He didn't want Genichirou to think of him as a weak!
Genichirou had been there for him when he was in hospital, almost every day, in every way. He had seen Yukimura in the worst times, hopeless, so tired and even crying. And he had been there, asking nothing in return, just being with him, talking to him when he knew the other wasn't comfortable with mindless chatting, holding his hand although he didn't like to be touched. Yukimura had relied so much of his confidence in Genichirou's presence that he didn't knew what would have happened if he hadn't been there.
He had felt like living through Genichirou when he himself was tied down in bed. The stoic boy had hesitatingly started to tell him, with little encouraging from Yukimura's part, about his days out of the hospital and it had become a habit of theirs. He had savored every little thing that had happened and felt like a part of Genichirou that only habited in another body. The feeling still stayed, although he had a life of his own, and his love for Genichirou had only grown since the day he had been released from hospital. The joy he felt when he was able to share the whole life with Genichirou in the moment and not in heard tales was overwhelming.
But he truly loved Genichirou and didn't want to cause him worries. He knew the other was proud of him and his strength. He wanted to be just that perfect for him. He wanted to be strong and healthy, the partner that was worthy of Genichirou.
That was the reason why he kept his distance with the taller boy and let his love show only in his eyes when he gazed the other boy, trying to hide only his tiredness. He longed with fever to feel Genichirou's hands around him, his mouth on his, his breath in him but he couldn't let the other be so near, to see his weakness. When he was stronger, Genichirou wouldn't have enough places to run from him, if he wanted to run, that is.
"I'm fine Genichirou. Let me be the judge of my tiredness, please." He knew his smile wasn't so sweet it should have been, and he knew Genichirou would hear the truth behind his words. So frustrating his life was. He was tired, it made him snappy and Genichirou would notice although his voice was as soft as it was always but there was a slight tension that he would have liked to hide.
"What ever you say." And just like that he was gone. Only cold space behind him remained. Had he hurt Genichirou? That had never been his plan. But what if the other had taken his coldness as an insult? He watched his lunchbox with growing anxiousness and closed it when it only made him feel ill.
"I'm not that hungry." He declared with slightly hesitant voice to Yanagi, who only nodded and continued eating his lunch.
"I thought you wouldn't be."