A Prince of Tennis fanfic.
SanaYuki pairing a.k.a. alpha pair
Story: Sugary Coffee - Chapter.1
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi.
Author's note: This is so strange. Slightly OOC, but they will become less OOC as the story goes on. It's intentional that they're OOC!
Enjoy and... reviews please
1. Bitter Tea
Countless arteries stretched and circulated the night city of Tokyo, the glowing head lights of rushing cars illuminating the restless capital. The peak of activity soon passed as the night descended, accompanied by the rise of the ivory moon. It was early winter, yet the temperature and weather suggested a warm mid-autumn night. On the Komaba campus of Tokyo University - where undergraduates would study for two years before choosing their specialty - there was no one except for a lone boy who had just exited the Information Education Building.
Sanada tightened his grip on the black leather case as a breeze brushed past and left the campus via the front gate, trudging towards Komaba-Todaimae Station, where he caught a train with only a few passengers. Upon arrival at his station, he stood up without a word and got off. There was a short distance from the station to his accommodation, but instead of walking home directly, he detoured to the closest 7-Eleven.
He strode directly to the magazine section, and picked up the latest imported issue of the Time magazine. On his way to the cashier however, his attention was distracted by a section of brightly-coloured fashion and gossips magazine. Of course, he held absolutely no interest in them, but a familiar face on three of the covers captivated his curiosity. He stepped in front of the glossy covers, and picked up the last copy of Cool-Up, staring at it with a critical eye. A beautiful and familiar face stared back. His sweet smile was alluring and his eyes gazed out with a glimmer of extraordinary beauty behind the silky waves of sapphire-tinged hair.
"Excuse me," a soft voice interrupted Sanada's thoughts, "are you buying that magazine?" Sanada looked up from the cover and saw a teenage girl next to him, pointing at the magazine in his hands shyly. Sanada shook his head and handed the magazine to her. He noted, as she thanked him gratefully, that the other two magazines in her hand had the same idol on the front cover as well. She must be a fan, he thought dryly. There was nothing charming and special about that perfect face. All Sanada felt was an empty gaze that passed right through him s he looked at the picture. The smile never attracted him; indeed, it disgusted him instead with its sweet pretence.
Sanada headed home after a cup of coffee at Denny's, his thoughts revolving around the beautiful boy on the glossy cover. The cover announced a new movie that starred the boy. They entitled him Prince, which was a common nickname used by his fans, and one that Sanada disliked. Sanada failed to recall the name of the movie, but when he stepped into the lobby of his apartment building, the thought escaped him quickly.
With practised movements, he pulled out a key from the back pocket of his trousers and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal a small, clean space. Replacing the black leather shoes with white slippers, he stepped into the living room and was immediately dismayed to find it a mess.
His dismal was clouded by a wisp of irritation when he saw the couch. It was not the furniture that annoyed him, but rather the person who occupied it. The exact same boy on the cover of those glossy magazine slumped across the couch - naked - covered only by a translucent silk blanket. His wavy hair cascaded across a cushion like a body of black water and his features were even more delicate than those depicted on the magazines, almost unbelievably angelic. Sanada could not help but allow his lips to curl in a smile when he remembered the times when sweat would stream down that delicate face after a tiring game of tennis.
The boy's long, dark eyelashes quivered and a moment later, his eyes opened lazily, peering at the intruder of his slumber. "Welcome home," he muttered, fatigue evident in his smooth voice and after a moment of hesitation, he added, "I made dinner."
Sanada nodded comprehensively and entered the kitchen. Minutes later, he cleared a pile of timetables off the dining table and placed two plates of spaghetti bolognaise - conveniently reheated with the microwave - and sat down, muttering "Itadakimasu".
The other boy dressed in a pair of track pants swiftly before joining Sanada at the table. "Were you in bed with another girl again?" Sanada asked sourly, ignoring the nauseating taste of the pasta.
"I'm on the couch, not in bed," the other retorted, throwing down his fork, "I've never done anything with a girl before anyway."
"Sure, lying under a blanket naked with a girl is nothing."
He rolled his eyes. "And anyway, I have a reputation to hold up, so I don't go around sleeping with random girls. That seems to be your opinion though. But even if I do, they don't turn me on and I can't exactly do anything when they don't turn me on."
"Maybe it's because you're prettier than they are."
A silence followed the comment and both turned to their food, despite their obvious distaste for it. Sanada changed the topic, "why did you cook?" The boy opposite him shrugged a response, stood up and dumped his food into the bin, placing the plate into the dishwasher.
Pachelbel's Canon resonated through the house as Sanada finished the last of his dinner. He walked into the living room and the boy was sitting in front of a piano, his fingers caressing the keys, weaving a modified, slightly pop version of the original Canon in D. The high-quality of the tone, the boy had always pointed out to Sanada, was due to the fine craftsmanship of the piano. It was a Playel - French, like many other things the boy preferred and owned.
"How'd you like it?" The boy asked after the song finished and faded away.
"It's nice," Sanada complimented simply.
But the boy frowned. "You never praise me whole-heartedly, no matter what I do. Do you really dislike me being a model?"
"A supermodel, actor and singer," Sanada specified, "but no, of course I don't dislike you for that."
The boy was silent for a moment, "but ever since I quit tennis, you have never smiled at me or even looked at me truly." Sanada did not reply and so the boy continued on, "even though we entered the same university, you never became closer to me."
"What do you mean? You don't even go to university anymore."
"I meant when I did. Of course we were apart with me staying at a cousin's place while you moved here by yourself and me studying commerce while you decided on medicine, but nevertheless..."
"You dropped out after the first year and I stayed."
"And that too, but besides from that," the boy said wistfully, "after I finally made myself known to Japan, I signed that contract for the movie. When I was required to be in Tokyo for the shooting, you invited me to stay with you. I hoped that this would close the gap that came between us after my drop-out from tennis."
"You didn't have to make yourself known to Japan by being an entertainer. You could have easily become famous by being a tennis player."
The boy's face dropped instantly and frowned deeply, a crease appearing between his fine eyebrows as a reminiscence of the past haunted him. "You know why I quit." He whispered softly.
"I'm sorry." Sanada apologised quickly, slapping himself mentally for talking carelessly. He looked at the beautiful boy in front of him and regretted his words deeply; the sorrow that lurked behind the hazel eyes shimmered clearly, and the charm, which appeared on magazines, promotional posters, CD albums, turned into a face of contorted pain, disturbed by memories of the past. The sweet smile that earned him the nickname "prince" was non-existent as he slumped against the couch, his face clouded by depression.
"You know the reason why I quit tennis. But why can't you understand? Haven't I already explained to you enough times?"
Sanada hung his head and muttered his apologies again. They maintained their silence, but it was obvious to both that their relationship had indeed changed over the years. One was on the path to become a doctor, while the other walked the glamorous red-carpet. They were no longer the Sanada Genichirou and Yukimura Seiichi they were a few years ago. They had changed.
As Sanada closed his eyes, he remembered the event that resulted in Yukimura's retirement from tennis. Now that the event was refreshed in his mind, Sanada wished true-heartedly that his words could be taken back. It was not only because of the hurt it caused Yukimura, but also because this memory seemed to be the last one concerning Yukimura that Sanada understood. Decisions Yukimura made subsequent to that event were complete mysteries to Sanada, and perhaps it was this lack of understanding that distanced their relationship.
After all, Yukimura's most important decision in his life so far was something Sanada simply could not understand why. It was completely unexpected and unpredictable. It had always been - and perhaps will be - a mystery to Sanada as to why Yukimura became a model.
Please Review!