Renji found the rituals comforting. Black-clad mourners, subdued and shrunken with grief, listening to the priest chant the sutras and offering incense. The smoke ascended, as would Yukimura.
He and Sanada had kept vigil with Yukimura's family overnight. It was an honour, really, to be asked. He'd found himself wishing they'd used a kimono for Yukimura, though. Yukimura would have suited a kimono better than he did the stern, plain suit that he'd been put in. It made him look ashen and unearthly, the same way he had looked in his last days of illness. Renji would have preferred to remember him with the vitality he'd had in better times.
The funeral was hard to get through. The rituals themselves were acceptable; Yukimura's new death name sonorous and prestigious enough that Renji privately wondered just how large a donation his parents had made. The placing of flowers passed without incident, aside from some audible weeping from Yukimura's sister. But it had been painful, nonetheless, to sit through.
In deference to the wishes of Yukimura's mother, Yukimura's friends were requested to return to Yukimura's house while he was cremated; his urn would return there for a memorial service that evening before being taken to the graveyard. Renji and Sanada had been asked if they wished to help pick the bones from the ashes, and Sanada had declined instantly. Renji wavered - he would have liked to participate, he thought - but being the only non-relative there would be extremely odd, and he suspected he'd be unable to remain very dispassionate or composed when confronted with Yukimura's ashes.
At Yukimura's house, waiting guests - those who Yukimura's mother knew well enough to invite home - clustered awkwardly. Renji drifted from group to group; distant relatives of Yukimura's, classmates, a few people Renji was dimly aware Yukimura knew from clubs and activities that Renji had no part in. It made conversation stilted; their memories of Yukimura different from his in subtle ways. Renji made polite, sympathetic noises at one of Yukimura's aunts for a while, hoping he'd be rescued soon enough. It took a solid five minutes before he spotted Yagyuu slipping out of a side-door and made his excuses so he could follow.
Most of the people he felt comfortable around were lurking around the side of the house, it turned out, away from the bulk of the mourners.
Akaya flung himself at Renji as soon as Renji approached them, pressing his head against Renji's chest urgently. Renji's arms went up automatically, circling the younger boy and holding him close.
"Yanagi-senpai," Akaya mumbled into Renji's shoulder, his arms around Renji's waist, far too near for Renji's comfort.
Renji raised an eyebrow at the others over Akaya's shoulder. They pulled an assortment of faces that Renji generally deciphered as 'he was fine until he saw you'. He let his hands tangle in Akaya's hair - rougher to the touch than he expected, though each time he always thought he'd remember the texture forever - for a moment before he tugged gently backwards, forcing Akaya to lift his head.
"Hey now," he said, and then saw how moist Akaya's eyes were, the tears beginning to brim over his bottom eyelids. "Hey," Renji started again, and then he sighed, cupping Akaya's face in both his hands and wiping the spilled tears away with his thumbs, wishing he was better at handling this sort of emotional openness. He had a hard enough time handling his own emotions around Akaya at the best of times. A vulnerable, dependent Akaya was almost enough to send him into near-panic. "Seiichi wouldn't want you crying, you know."
"I know," said Akaya, and he sniffed. "I'm sorry, senpai."
Renji pulled him back into a gentle hug again, fighting down his stupid selfish reactions, and frowned at the others for help.
"You'll set us all off, idiot," said Niou gently, and he put out his hand to rest on Akaya's back. "C'mon, before Yanagi needs to wring out his jacket."
Akaya made an indistinct noise at that, and pulled away. Yagyuu deftly caught hold of his arm, as if expecting him to use his sleeve to wipe his face, and substituted a handkerchief. Renji inspected himself, letting Yagyuu play mother for now - Niou was right, there was a visible damp patch on his chest. It would dry soon, he thought, and comforting Akaya was too important for him to mind much about a little dampness. Renji took in the scene: Niou, Yagyuu, Marui, Akaya. All of them dressed in sober suits and ties, pressed and stiff and tense. Jackal had sent his apologies to them and more formal ones to Yukimura's family, but they'd all known he couldn't fly back from Brazil for this, however much he'd wanted to.
"Where's Sanada?"
"Not sure," said Marui, who had slung one arm over Akaya's shoulders comfortingly. "Inside, maybe?"
"I'll find him, tell him to come out," Niou volunteered, to Renji's slight surprise. "Need to find a toilet anyway, might as well."
As Niou left, Akaya freed himself from Marui's arm, and leaned against Renji's side instead, heaving in a deep breath. "How was last night, senpai?"
"The vigil? It was… peaceful," said Renji, to general nods of approval. "I'm exhausted today, though."
"You're making a speech later, aren't you?" Yagyuu took off his glasses, and nearly wiped them on his handkerchief before apparently realising that Akaya had soaked that through. He placed them back on his face untouched, frowning. "It's a lot to ask of you, when you're so tired."
"Sanada is too," admitted Renji. "If it wasn't massively disrespectful, I'd be trying to nap somewhere."
"If you need to, we can guard the door," said Akaya, still leaning against Renji. "For you and fukubuchou both."
"No, thank you," said Renji, and he gave into the unasked request and put his arm around Akaya's shoulders. "I don't want to offend either the gods or Yukimura's mother."
"Did you see Sakura inside?" Marui gave a theatrical shudder. "She's still saying that they didn't break up ages ago."
Yagyuu made a disgusted noise. "If she thought anyone would believe her, I suspect she'd say they were engaged or secretly married or similar. She's like a vulture, thinking she can get sympathy by being the poor bereaved girlfriend."
Renji sighed. "Yukimura took her back, actually."
They all looked at him, aghast.
"Why?" asked Akaya, after a moment, clearly speaking for the group.
"She went to see him in hospital, just before. She cried and pleaded, and he didn't have the energy to tell her no any more, apparently." Renji bit his tongue on the rest; Yukimura's exhaustion in his last days was familiar to them all, and they didn't need to be told that he'd swung into strange moods. On that day he'd been full of uncharacteristically beatific sentiments due to the pain medication; old grudges and wounds all swept away in a sea of eerie serenity. Sakura hadn't meant to take advantage of that, but Renji still felt like she had, as if Yukimura's own choices had been stripped away by the drugs.
"That's still not an excuse for the way she's describing their forever love," said Marui, huffily.
"Peace," Renji said. "It's not the day for confrontations, and we can gently reiterate the truth if we're asked directly."
It wasn't a warm day, but the sky was clear and a vivid blue. Yagyuu was staring upwards, as if seeking Yukimura's opinions from his ascended spirit. "Perhaps so," he said, carefully. "I think Yanagi-kun has it right: we let it slide, for now."
They all stood there, for a while. Renji was acutely aware of the heat of Akaya tucked under his arm, of how those curls threatened to tickle Renji's ear, of how Akaya was breathing with a tightness that meant he was trying to control any further outbursts of tears. Sanada would be proud of him. Yukimura would be proud, too, and that thought sent a faint shiver of grief through Renji.
"No Sanada yet," observed Yagyuu, eventually. "Perhaps he's been cornered by a relative."
"I should find him," said Renji, reluctantly withdrawing his arm. "Check on our speech and so on."
He found Sanada, after some searching, in one of the guest bedrooms. He and Niou had their arms around each other in a close embrace, with Niou stretching up, his mouth close to Sanada's ear as if he'd been murmuring words of comfort, or was about to do so.
It was such a strange sight that Renji's brain leapfrogged over surprise and into an acceptance born of the thought we're all behaving oddly today. He coughed, and they sprang apart with a look of mutual embarrassment that would have been hilarious under normal circumstances.
"Should I give you two another minute?" he said, lightly.
Sanada flushed visibly, and shook his head. "Uh, no, I'll… uh, I'll go join the others."
Renji blinked, and raised an eyebrow at Niou in curiosity. Niou shrugged, and shook his head. "Don't ask."
"Now, that's just baiting me to be more curious."
"Yeah? You hugged the kid, just now, it doesn't have to mean anything weird." Niou looked Renji up and down, and then strode forwards and pulled Renji into his arms as if in demonstration. "C'mon, we all need a bit of physical contact today."
Renji sighed, and relaxed into what was, in fact, a very good hug. Renji'd been hugged so often by well-wishers over the past few days that he'd begun quietly comparing the quality of the embraces in his mind. Niou's hug was non-constricting but supportive, easily one of the best Renji'd received lately. And Niou smelled pleasantly of citrusy cologne and soap, rather than mothballs or floral perfumes like half of the people downstairs. It felt deliberate, somehow. Renji momentarily entertained an image of Niou practising his hugging technique on Yagyuu, adjusting the grip of his arms and the angle of his body to get it just right. He would have liked to have shared the idea with Yukimura, he thought, and felt his stomach knot again.
Sanada's part of their speech at the memorial was short but heartfelt, about how much Yukimura had meant to him, and how much his memory would continue to mean to everyone. Renji took up the thread, as pre-discussed, of Yukimura's vitality, his legacy, his assured place in everyone's hearts and minds. Of how his life had been short, but he'd achieved so much, and would only be disappointed that he could not continue to excel in every passion he'd had.
It was sufficient enough for the memorial, though nothing really could express Yukimura's drive and charisma. Nor how much he would be missed.
There were open-attendance memorials on each successive day that week, carefully timed to allow attendance after school and work were completed for most attendees. Renji and Sanada attended every one, as did Niou and Yagyuu - both of their suits ironed and starched in a way that suggested to Renji that Niou was camped out at Yagyuu's house for the duration - and Marui. Akaya missed one, with fervent apologies to everyone over his mother's unchangeable plans for that day. Atobe attended all the memorials, somewhat to Renji's startlement, and each day brought with him others from the Tokyo tennis school circuit who sat somberly through the memorials and spoke of Yukimura fondly. It was reassuring; their stories of Yukimura's humour and slyness and skill meshed with Renji's memories far more closely than Sakura's over-romanticised prince or Yukimura's parents' devoted son or even their classmates' stories of Yukimura's quiet dignity and grace.
On the sixth day - the Saturday - Sanada walked Renji home, and accepted his invitation to stay overnight.
"One more day," he said, heaving a sigh as he stretched out on Renji's spare futon. "I'll be glad when this is over."
"I don't know, it's nice to share stories while those memories are still recent," said Renji, softly. "It's a tradition for a reason."
Sanada eyed him dubiously. "I don't think you're at any risk of forgetting Yukimura. Nor am I. Nor are any of us."
"No, I suppose not."
"Before we sleep, wait." Sanada sat up, rather stiff-backed. "I need to tell you something. I kissed Niou."
Renji considered this statement, and elected to go lock his door before anything else. Was that what he'd walked in on, in the guest room? He sat down on the futon, facing Sanada, and said cautiously, "if it was at the wake, everyone was rather emotionally-"
"No." Sanada flushed, faintly, and then ducked his head. "I guess it might have happened there too if you hadn't interrupted, but it wasn't - no. It was a while back, before Yukimura relapsed and - well, before."
"Oh."
Sanada twisted the blanket in his hands. "Yukimura knew. I told him while he was in hospital. He said not to tell you, said he wanted to have one of my secrets to himself for a while."
That was… well, at least Sanada hadn't wanted to hide it from Renji, especially. Renji wasn't sure how he was supposed to react. "I see. Um. Okay. Are you okay?"
"I spent a couple of weeks being revolted at myself, but now, yes, I think so. Are you disgusted by it?"
Renji shook his head, slowly. Disgust wasn't even on his list of possible emotions, right now; confusion, disbelief and fascination were probably the most prominent things he was feeling. "No, no. Just… how did it even happen?"
"He was messing around and teasing me after practise, and I just… snapped, and kissed him. Does it matter, really?"
"I don't know." Renji reached out, and gently placed his hand over one of Sanada's. The blanket would be ruined if Sanada kept pulling at it. "Maybe not."
Sanada stared at Renji's hand, and then slumped backwards onto the futon. "It's crazy. But it's not the first time I've wanted to, and it's him, and… couldn't I have had this sort of thing happen with someone normal?"
Renji laughed, and pulled his knees up to his chin, hugging himself. "I don't know. Do you know anyone normal?"
"Good point."
"I… I rather like a boy too, if that helps."
Sanada turned onto his side and gazed at Renji. "Oh."
"Someone unsuitable. I'm not planning on acting on it." Renji hugged himself a little tighter; it felt good to admit even this much. "I don't think it's disgusting, but it's inconvenient."
"How long have you liked him?"
"I don't know." Renji didn't; his feelings for Akaya had cycled back and forth through amusement and horror and weariness and exasperation and fondness and somewhere in the middle of it all of it he'd realised he'd grown attracted. "He has no idea, and hopefully never will."
"Hmm." Sanada rolled so he was lying flat on his back again. "Well. So I'm not the only one, then."
"No."
"Thanks. For telling me, I mean. At least we'll all go to hell together."
"I wanted to ask - would it be alright for me to stay at your house tonight?"
Renji hesitated for a moment, but nodded; Akaya had missed another family trip to come to the final memorial service, and it wouldn't be very kind of Renji to send him home alone afterwards.
Akaya hugged him briefly, spontaneously, with one arm, and then dashed off to help Yukimura's mother again.
In fact, the whole team ended up back at Renji's that evening, after the last memorial. They'd all talked about Yukimura so much that week that by unspoken consent they avoided the subject for the time being, and played games and talked about schoolwork and girls. For a while it felt like any normal evening, Yukimura merely absent temporarily rather than gone. Yagyuu was technically the last to leave, though everyone seemed a little unwilling to go. In any event, the company and distraction meant that Renji was able to police his thoughts with the ease of long practise right up until about twenty minutes after he'd turned out the lights in his room.
And then he realised that Akaya was sobbing into his pillow. Quietly, and obviously trying to conceal it, but… still.
"Would you like to talk?" Renji offered, sitting up. "It might make you feel better."
Akaya inhaled sharply, as if surprised Renji was still awake. "S-sure. Sorry."
"Well-" Renji began, and then stopped. Akaya had gotten up, and was moving, and then Akaya was settling himself crosslegged on the edge of Renji's futon, disconcertingly close. Renji's mind blanked on the comforting words he'd readied, and they sat quietly for a moment in the darkness.
"I keep thinking," said Akaya quietly, after a moment, as if the silence hadn't been awkward at all. "We're going to have practise again soon, and he won't be there. He'll never be there again."
"Yes. It's going to be... very different."
"I never got to beat him. I… I bet that he'd think that was funny."
Renji smiled despite himself. "Yes, he would."
Akaya huffed out a shaky sigh. He was shivering, Renji realised, and without his conscious mind having any say in the decision, he shifted sideways and lifted his blanket up in invitation.
"Yukimura-san's sponsoring a scholarship in his memory," Akaya said, as he positioned himself by Renji's side so that Renji could pull the blanket up over both their legs. "A tennis one, for the university."
"I know, she told us all at the first memorial service," Renji said, trying not to think about how Akaya's knee kept bumping against him as the boy shifted. "Are you thinking of applying for it?"
"I… maybe, if I can? My parents can't really afford for me to stay at Rikkai for university, they should be saving their money for retirement, but I don't know."
"I think Seiichi'd be delighted if you got to stay on in his name, honestly."
The room wasn't so dark that Renji couldn't see the conflicted expression that put on Akaya's face.
"Seriously," he said, and put his arm around Akaya's shoulder. "Apply for it."
Akaya leant into the gesture for a moment, then he pulled away and shuffled down the bed, lying down, as if he was planning to sleep there beside Renji. "I just, it's, I'd rather he was here and I couldn't stay on."
"I don't think anyone will think that's not the case." Renji bit his lip, staring down at Akaya's messy hair spread around his head like a dark halo. "But I'm surprised you want that. I thought you'd rather try to go professional. The university team is fine, but it's not nearly the same as a solo career."
"I'd be expecting him to show up, on circuit," said Akaya, quietly. "I'd always be looking for his name above mine in the lists. Don't you think?"
"Maybe." Renji thought about it, for a moment, and then put his hand on Akaya's shoulder. "But would it be bad to remember him so often? Let the memory inspire you, and it'll be a positive thing."
Akaya blinked, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. "Oh."
"Can I have my bed back now?"
Akaya finally looked at him, and then he flushed faintly. "Um. Oh, I thought it'd be okay to share, like at camp sometimes."
It would be extremely awkward, though Renji. Akaya at close proximity had unfortunate effects on his ability to think rationally, and the past week had already strained his emotional equilibrium enough. From here he could feel Akaya's body radiating warmth, and smell the soap Akaya must have showered with, and just being this close was making his hindbrain tingle with false hope and arousal. "Well-"
"Would it be okay? Please?"
Renji gave in, before Akaya started begging. "If you insist."
He lay down, carefully, ensuring Akaya had a solid 60% of the futon's space so as to minimise the chance of accidental contact. Akaya immediately rolled to face him, and Renji closed his eyes immediately: it felt dangerously intimate, to be like this.
"You know, it feels like being a proper kid again, like this," Akaya said after a moment. "Like sleepovers in junior school. I miss that."
"Everything was rather less complicated then, yes," murmured Renji, with feeling.
He felt something brush against his wrist, and then Akaya's fingers tangled awkwardly with his and Renji's eyes snapped open in surprise.
"Akaya," he ventured when his pulse rate dropped to a level that wasn't alarming, "I'm not really comfortable with this much-"
"I know it's weird, I'm sorry. But I just feel better if I'm touching someone, sometimes. And you're the only person who… you won't make fun of me for it, I mean. Please?"
"I can't sleep if I'm being touched," Renji improvised, trying to subtly move further away.
Akaya's fingers curled, tightening on his. "Just for a while then. Please?"
Renji sagged. Akaya wanted simple tactile comfort, and really, if he wasn't such a mess, he'd just let Akaya hold his damned hand. "Alright."
Akaya relaxed, the tenseness in his body seeming to visibly leave him, and closed his eyes. Renji let himself look; even in the dimness, he knew Akaya well enough to be amused by how angelic he looked with his eyes closed like this.
"Thank you, senpai," murmured Akaya after a while, and he squeezed Renji's hand gently before letting it go. "G'night."
"You look like hell," said Niou at lunch the next day, dropping down his tray next to Renji's with a clunk. "And you're eating like I do, that's never a good sign."
Renji stared at his own tray. He'd barely slept, too aware of Akaya next to him. The onigiri had seemed like a good option, small and bland enough for him to handle. But it felt like his stomach had shrunk over the past week or two, and he'd barely eaten half of it.
Niou held out the bread from his own tray. "Here. Sugar helps."
"No, but thanks." Renji sighed, and shoved his tray away slightly. "We need to start practises back up again soon, I think, or the school won't permit us to compete."
"Mm." Niou contemplated the bread, and tossed it back onto his tray. "That's a whole world of ugh right there. Sanada's taking over as buchou, then?"
"No, we talked about it. Acting only, same as while Yukimura was hospitalised. Captaincy itself to remain empty, but we'll have to think about taking on another regular in addition to filling Jackal's spot."
"Ah." Niou sniffed. "Poor bastards, though, joining now while we're all even more fucked-up than usual."
Renji poked at his onigiri. "Genichirou told me about what happened, by the way."
"Did he." Niou's tone was deliberately flat. "Well, that's nice."
"Are you going to-"
"Did he ask you to talk to me?"
Renji shook his head.
"I thought not." Niou slumped back in his chair. "Well then. It was weird and out of the blue, and I was trying to work out how I felt about it and then Yukimura… well, everything shifted. I'm too numb and exhausted to know what I want here, really."
"Mm. I understand that." Renji certainly did; numbness was a perfectly normal reaction to everything that had happened recently. "But he's going to want to talk about it sometime. Probably as soon as we start up practise again, so it doesn't hang over him."
"Shit." Niou tipped his head back, as if the ceiling would provide help. "Alright. I'll try to pull it together."
"Thanks."
"But you'd better do the same, y'know, if we're going to amount to anything this year." Niou sniffed, and sat back up. "That's sort of the point of all those memorials, right? Get this out of our systems? So we can move on with normal life?"
"I suppose so. And I suspect Seiichi would be very disappointed if we failed to make it even as far as the prefecturals."
Niou grinned, sharply. "Ouch. You gonna use that line on the brat?"
"He's already guilt-tripping himself enough, I think." Renji picked up his onigiri. "But I'm using it on myself."
"If it works, it works, I guess. But why stop there? He'd be more pissed if he knew you'd aim so low."
"...very well, here's to winning nationals, then."
"Hell, why not." Niou grabbed his bread, and raised it in a mock-toast. "Always victorious."
Renji peered out at the centre court, to see who would be attending the first practise since Yukimura's death.
They were down to 6 regulars anyway - all of whom had been promptly on time for once, bless them - but only about half the pre-regulars and an even lower proportion of the rank-and-file of the club had shown up. It felt strange, to see the club so diminished. Renji suspected it was only in part due to the loss of Yukimura - Sanada's last tenure as acting buchou had been some years prior, but people had long memories and he had been rather dictatorial.
But then, so had Yukimura. He'd just been better about veiling his authoritarian streak with sweet smiles, that was all.
So. It was time to address the club before their first practise since Yukimura's death. To Renji's mild surprise, Sanada seemed to be having what amounted to a very stoic panic attack at the thought, hunched double on the bench in the changing room and scowling at the floor mutely.
"Would you like me to do it?" Renji asked, when it seemed like Sanada had no intention of moving.
Sanada shook his head, not lifting his gaze.
Renji took another look out at the centre court. The regulars were in a tight little cluster, obviously conferring, with occasional glances towards the changing room. The rest of the club seemed restless, though not in any danger of actually dispersing yet.
"It's time, Genichirou," Renji said, firmly.
Sanada heaved in a huge breath, and stood up, his brow furrowed. "I have no idea how to do this."
"You'll be fine. You know what you need to say in terms of administration, and otherwise… well. You don't have to talk about Yukimura."
"Yes I do." Sanada snorted. "If I don't, it'll hang over us like a, a…"
"Ghost?" offered Renji. "So say that we're all sad, and that we'll miss him, and that we hope he'll be proud of us."
Sanada gave Renji a dubious look. "That's not a very captainy speech. Not very inspiring."
Ah. "But you're not captain, technically. Honestly, nobody's expecting you to give the greatest motivational speech ever, just give them what they need to know and what you want to say. In your own words."
"But.."
Renji opened the door. "Go."
The speech Sanada gave was mediocre, in fact; he stumbled over his words and appeared to lose track of the points he was making at least twice. He did, however, come across as confident that they would be a great team even in Yukimura's absence, and Renji supposed that was probably good enough.
Renji quietly stepped forward afterwards to remind everyone that there would be ranking matches to determine the new regulars, and that the schedule would go up on the usual club noticeboard. And then Sanada dismissed everyone until the next day, apparently forgetting that they were in fact expected to practise tennis today. Oh well. One more day wouldn't hurt, and perhaps more of the pre-regulars would actually come to the next practise with the ranking matches on the horizon.
As the bulk of the club dispersed, Yagyuu and Niou exchanged a look.
"Marui-kun, Kirihara-kun, perhaps we should take advantage of the empty courts before we get changed," said Yagyuu, in a carefully neutral tone of voice. "You two can rally, and I'll umpire."
Renji cleared his throat, and didn't dare look at Sanada's face. "I'll join you, actually, if that's alright."
"Of course."
"A date?"
"Yes."
Renji felt the laugh bubbling up, and tried his best to repress it. "That's… well, good work."
"What the hell do I do?"
Renji bit his lip. If Sanada heard him laugh, he'd hang up in a snit. And then probably march over to Renji's and glare at him in person. "You go on the date. You have a nice time, hopefully. If you're very lucky you get another date, and maybe another after that. And that's called dating."
"You're not helping."
"I'm not sure what help you think I could possibly be."
Sanada sighed heavily down the phone.
"This is a good thing, Genichirou. You are going on a date with a person you like enough to have already kissed."
"Except that it's Niou."
"To whom you are attracted, and who clearly at least likes you back enough for there to be a date."
Renji could practically hear Sanada pulling faces on the other end of the line.
"Have you made plans for where to go and what to do?"
"I… no."
"I suggest you think of some, unless you'd rather Niou pick." Renji paused. "I actually can't think of anything datelike you'd both like."
"Other than tennis?"
"No. At least not for your first date, please."
"...I'll think of something." Sanada made a huffing noise. "What about you?"
"Me?"
"This guy you like."
"He's... unsuitable, I told you." Renji remembered Akaya gently snoring next to him, and shook his head to dispel the memory. "I will not pursue it."
There was a pause, and then Sanada said, slowly, "it's not me, is it?"
It was surprisingly hard to enunciate a firm enough "no" in response.
"Alright, good, fine, stop laughing." Sanada sniffed, as if offended. "Just checking. Anyway, if I can go on a date with Niou then anything could happen. How unsuitable can he be, really?"
Renji gave up. "It's Akaya."
"...please tell me you're not serious."
"I'm afraid so. For an embarrassingly long time."
Sanada's breathing was all that could be heard for a moment, then a rumble of deep laughter came down the line. "We both have terrible taste."
"Yes."
"Did… did Yukimura know?"
"No." Renji rather wished he had told Yukimura, in retrospect; he would probably have found it hilarious, especially when combined with Sanada's crush on Niou. "You see what I mean about inappropriate, however."
"...I suppose so, right now, yes."
"Even if circumstances were different, I can't see myself doing anything about it."
Sanada made another huffing, amused noise. "I bet you wish it was me."
Renji smiled down the phone. "Niou would have quite the fight on his hands. Anyway. Go on your date, and tell me everything afterwards."
Renji was watching Yagyuu and Akaya practise their serves, ostensibly merely to observe their progress since the last matches of the previous season.
In actual fact, as Renji had informed Sanada, he was trying to work out if they could make a good occasional doubles team. They'd played together as a pair in the past, with mixed results. With Jackal gone the team might struggle a little to field two strong doubles teams - Yagyuu and Niou and Marui could work in any combination without problems, but Kirihara had previously only shown real competency at doubles when paired with Renji himself. Perhaps Renji would have to give up on singles this year, and resign himself to filling out the doubles slots.
A shadow fell over him, and then Sanada sat down next to him. "Observations?"
"I'd pair him with Yagyuu, without too many reservations. Probably not with Niou or Marui, though, at least not in doubles 1."
"And you're unwilling to partner him regularly yourself." Sanada scowled down at the court. "Well. Let's pray the ranking matches throw up useful people, hm?"
"Indeed."
"Why are you so against playing with him? I don't really get it."
Renji folded his hands together in his lap. "It would mean spending a lot of time with him, and that's complicated. I'd say imagine it was you and Niou, except that I suppose that analogy isn't accurate at all."
"Probably not, no." Sanada nudged him. "I'm taking him to one of those multi-entertainment complexes, by the way. Lots of arcade games and stuff. He can show off, I can make an idiot of myself, it'll be fine."
Renji smiled. "You really do like him."
"Mm. If I call you during the date-"
"-I'll tell you exactly how much you're being an idiot, yes."
"Thanks."
"Well? Did it go okay?"
"He made me try one of those stupid dance games, and I fell over. And he tried to make me eat from his chopsticks in public. And his hair looked even more stupid than usual, and I can't believe I thought any of this was a good idea."
"And?"
"...we're going on another date this weekend."
The team had two new regulars, third-year Suda and second-year Hirota. They were both competent in singles, but the key factor in their favour was that they seemed to have the potential to become a solid doubles team. But their friendship was - as yet - rather tentative and they kept apologising to each other all the time when they played. What that meant, inevitably, was that they needed to spend more time around one another socially. Alas, Renji thought they were unlikely to be be proactive enough to organise such things themselves.
Akaya was friendly enough with Hirota to socialise with him, so that wasn't too much of a problem. And Suda could probably be coaxed out if another third-year was involved. Unfortunately, Marui had started at cram school and tended to sprint off at high speed after practise, Sanada's blood pressure wouldn't be up to it, Niou would flat-out refuse, and Yagyuu was ostentatiously busy with student council work. Renji quietly grumbled to himself, and decided he could sacrifice an afternoon for the good of the team.
Two hours in, and they'd ended up in a little cafe. Suda and Hirota were indeed getting along well, sitting next to one another and cheerfully discussing some movie director it turned out they both liked. Akaya was fiddling with his phone, which Renji supposed was a little rude but then again he wasn't really following the discussion properly either.
"Senpai," murmured Akaya, as if trying to avoid attracting the attention of Suda and Hirota across the table. "Look at this."
Renji glanced at Akaya's phone, on which there was a photo of some busy food court. "Hmm?"
"Marui-senpai sent it to me. Is that Niou-senpai there?"
Renji blinked and peered at the screen. It did indeed appear to feature someone with Niou's distinctive hairstyle, sitting at one of the tables with a long-haired girl leaning across and resting her hand on his upper arm.
Oh no.
"I thought he and fukubuchou were, well," Akaya said, still in that low voice. "A thing. Sort of."
"Yes." Renji plucked the phone from Akaya's hand, and squinted at it. Maybe it wasn't really Niou. Maybe it was a simple misunderstanding. "Did Marui say who… wait, how do you know about them?"
Akaya rolled his eyes as if he couldn't believe Renji would ask such a thing. "Marui-senpai didn't recognise her."
"Where are they?"
Akaya took the phone back. "I'll find out."
Renji realised that Suda and Hirota's conversation had stopped abruptly, both of them now looking curiously across the table. He smiled reassuringly at them. "Ah, Akaya and I are going to have to abandon you two, I think."
Akaya glanced up. "Yeah, ah, we just need to check something, right, senpai?"
"Is there something wrong?" asked Suda, his expression suffused with concern.
"No, no," said Renji, as he stood up. "Personal matter, don't worry yourselves. See you at practise tomorrow, both of you."
The mall was a short bus ride away, and Marui met them by the food hall.
"I can't stay, I'm already way late," he said immediately. "But they're still in there. Keep me posted, okay?"
He dashed off, and Akaya immediately peered through the little screen of ferns that surrounded the court. "So what do we do, senpai?"
"Go get a table, I guess. I can't see any point in Niou not knowing we've seen him."
"But-"
"Come on."
The court was busy enough that their seats were quite some distance from Niou's table. After the first pointed glance from an employee at their empty table top, Renji sent Akaya to get drinks. Niou happened to glance in Renji's direction as Akaya left, so Renji waved a hand at him in acknowledgement.
Niou pulled a face, and then - Renji guessed - excused himself to the girl he was with, and sauntered over.
"Yo," he said, slinging himself into Akaya's vacant chair. "Stalking me, now?"
"On a date?"
"Yep," said Niou, without any trace of embarrassment. At Renji's raised eyebrow, he snorted. "Don't look at me like that, I'm covering my back, that's all. You think I want everyone to know I like guys?"
"I… see. Does Genichirou know?"
"Why would he? It's not like I'm gonna touch her or anything, it's just a, a-"
"A front. Does she know that?"
"God, no."
"That's a repugnant way to treat someone, you know."
Niou leant across the table. "Oh, screw you. For some of us there are consequences and considerations. He's really terrified people will find out about us, you know that? If I have a girlfriend, bing, so much less suspicion."
Renji opened his mouth to reply, and then Akaya slammed down their drinks tray onto the table. Mercifully, the drinks didn't fall over, but Niou recoiled anyway.
"He's right, it's sick. Niou-senpai, you shouldn't mess with people's feelings."
"It's none of your business."
Akaya glared. "I could go and tell her right now. She might not believe me, but she'd wonder."
"Fuck's sake." Niou threw his hands up. "It's like you want me and Sanada to be outed to the school."
"Of course not, but you shouldn't drag other people into it."
Niou stood up, and shook his head. "Alright, alright. Fuck. I'll work out how to break it off gently. Enjoy the rest of your little spying date, hmm?"
Renji waved a hand dismissively as Niou strolled back over to his table.
Akaya sat down, heavily enough to make the table rattle again. "I can't believe fukubuchou likes him."
"I don't think he gets much of a choice. Liking someone doesn't work like that, it's not based on sense." Renji glanced at Akaya's hand, already fidgeting with the edge of a paper napkin. Akaya's nails were bitten almost to the quick, his fingers blunt-tipped and constantly restless, and somehow Renji found that endearing. No, sense had nearly nothing to do with attraction. "Niou was trying to protect Genichirou, in his defense."
"By messing with some poor girl, who didn't do anything wrong," said Akaya, with some heat. "Maybe she really likes him, and he's just playing with her."
"I know."
"And I get it - like, I don't get them specifically, but, I mean. They like each other, and it's… a bit weird? But I wish it didn't matter, not enough for him to do stuff like this. It should just be okay, because it is okay."
Renji tried to decipher that. "Mm?"
"If I liked someone who liked me back, who really did, I would just… be with him. I wouldn't want to hide it or pretend, if I could."
"It's not as easy as that, unfortunately."
Akaya slumped in his chair. "I know, I know. If it was, then I'd have told him-" he shrugged, and picked up his drink. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. It's too late now."
Renji blinked in surprise. "Akaya-"
"It's fine, senpai." Akaya gave him a weak little smile. "Don't worry."
"I'm not sure he was wrong, really, about diverting attention, even if it was an idiotic way of doing it," said Sanada, with a heavy sigh. "I'm surprised people aren't whispering about us already."
Renji flipped a page in his notes, and found the diagram he wanted. "Ah, egocentrism at work. Everyone in high school is preoccupied with their own life, Genichirou. Unless you make it very obvious, nobody is going to notice two guys spending a little more time together."
"You're just saying that because you don't care about gossip."
"Perhaps so."
"I miss Yukimura," grumbled Sanada. "The girls used to whisper with him about stuff, I bet he could tell me what people were actually saying."
"We all miss Seiichi," said Renji automatically, and then it clicked. "Oh. Oh no."
"What?"
"I… need to talk to Akaya."
"You never invite me to sleep over," said Akaya, in surprise, then he flushed. "I mean, um. But you don't, usually."
"No, I know. But I'd like it if you came over, all the same. I'll help you with your English homework, if you like."
"You're on, senpai."
Akaya's homework involved an essay about some English novel, and he rather embarrassedly admitted to not really having followed the overall plot because he was concentrating on individual sentences instead. Renji wasn't very familiar with the story either, unfortunately. After a moment's thought, he did some hunting online, and found a subtitled movie adaption, and set about downloading it.
"Mm, that'll take about an hour, apparently." He stretched, and smiled up at Akaya, who was peering curiously over his shoulder. "Tea?"
"...can I just have water instead?"
"I'll get you a soda from the fridge."
When Renji returned, Akaya had flopped onto Renji's futon with the novel. Renji leant against the doorframe for a moment, amused; Akaya was clearly still struggling, his mouth forming the words silently and his brow deeply furrowed.
"If you keep scowling like that, you'll look like Genichirou."
Akaya looked up, and grinned at him. "That's a terrible threat, senpai. But… I wish I could get this, but it's just… ugh. Chinese is way easier, it just makes more sense."
"I like Chinese more too." Renji sat down next to him, and offered the soda. "Here."
Akaya pulled himself up, and sat neatly cross-legged. "...so, uh, can I ask why you invited me over? You didn't just want to help me with homework."
Renji took a sip of his tea. "I wanted to ask about what you said before, when we saw Niou on his date. 'Him'… that was Yukimura you were talking about, am I correct?"
Akaya flushed. "Oh."
"You were in love with him?"
Akaya sighed, and pulled his knees up to his chest tightly. "I don't know. I… he's gone, and it hurts, and I wish I'd told him what he meant to me, and not just as my captain. Even if he'd have laughed and told me not to be an idiot, or if he'd been disgusted, or anything. I wish-"
"I'm sorry," said Renji, ignoring the way his stomach was churning. His chest felt oddly tight, too. "I'm so sorry, Akaya."
Akaya shook his head, firmly. "It's worse than that, though, because, ah." He sighed, and Renji noticed the way his fingers were digging hard into his legs. "I didn't just like him? I mean, it wasn't only him I liked that way, and that's worse because you're only supposed to like one person at a time, right?"
Renji shrugged, helpless to answer.
Akaya rested his chin on his knees. "Sorry, senpai. God. I'm such a mess."
Renji stared at Akaya for a moment, and then sighed. Everything felt heavy. "We're all messes. You, me, Genichirou, probably Niou too. Seiichi was messy too, in his way - just look at what happened with Sakura."
"You're not a mess, though," Akaya said glumly. "You're not stupid over someone."
"Sorry to disillusion you."
Akaya's eyes went wide, and then he pulled his face into a wry sort of grin Renji didn't see often on him. "Huh. I always think you're kind of above all that sort of thing."
"Again, sorry, but no. I'm just as foolish as anyone else." Renji shrugged. "I just don't talk about it much."
Akaya relaxed a little, unclasping his arms. "Who is she?"
Renji tipped his head to one side, amused. "I know it's a little statistically unlikely at this point, but it's a guy for me too."
"Oh." Akaya shuffled sideways, and bumped his shoulder deliberately against Renji's arm. "You're so… private, I guess? It's hard to imagine you liking anyone."
"It's been the same person for a long time, and I don't think it's going away," admitted Renji. "But it's rather inappropriate for me to do anything about it. So I've learned to… well. Accept it."
"Huh." Akaya leant against him again, and stayed there this time. "It's not fukubuchou, is it?"
Renji snorted. "No, and he asked me that too. You're all so unimaginative."
"Is it that guy with the glasses from Seigaku?"
"Sadaharu? No, and he has a girlfriend anyway." Renji sighed, and put his arm around Akaya's shoulders. This wasn't supposed to turn into a conversation about him, it was supposed to be about Akaya. "It really isn't important, you know."
"It is, though." Akaya reached forward, and snagged his drink, and then wormed back under Renji's arm. "I bet you wouldn't tell anyone else their feelings weren't important. You matter too."
Renji tightened his arm for a moment. "I know, but I'm fine."
"If you like him, he must be a decent guy. He wouldn't freak out that much, I bet. I think you should tell him."
Renji closed his eyes. "It wouldn't be appropriate. Really."
"If it was me, I'd want to know."
"Hm." It felt like there was a knife twisting in his guts. "Maybe someday. But not yet."
Akaya sighed as if unconvinced, and rested his head on Renji's shoulder. His hair tickled Renji's ear.
"Right," said Renji, after a few moments. "Your homework. We'd better get back to it, hmm?"
Marui got a text after practise, and consequently got dressed so fast that Renji made a note to revise some of his data on Marui's level of manual co-ordination.
He raised an eyebrow at Yagyuu - the only other person already out of the showers - in curiosity.
"He's gained a girlfriend," said Yagyuu, as he fidgeted with his tie. "I think he met her at cram school. He's quite enthusiastic about attending it now."
"Oh."
Yagyuu smiled. "Speaking of that, I hear Furutani-chan is planning on confessing to you after practise."
"Furutani?" Renji blanked on the name, then recalled her; one of the clique of girls who helped out in the library sometimes. He'd spoken to her a few times about authors he liked. "Oh."
"Would you like me to tell her you've already left?"
"That would be helpful, yes."
Yagyuu shook his head, and then pulled his sweater on. "I hope whoever you're saving yourself for, Yanagi-kun, they're worth it."
"I don't think it's a matter of worthy or not," Renji said, and glanced towards the shower room, where Akaya was in fact wailing loudly at Niou to give him back his shampoo. "But thank you, anyway."
"Hang on a second," said Renji, and put his hand over the mouthpiece of his phone so that he could excuse himself from the dinner table.
"Right," he said, once he was back in his room with his door firmly closed. "You were saying?"
"I'm gay," repeated Sanada, his voice very flat-sounding.
"...I, well, I." Renji scratched at his head, a little baffled. "Based on the evidence recently, yes?"
"I'm really gay." This time there was an edge of desperation to the statement.
"Would you like to explain what brought this little epiphany on?"
"We… we kissed for a while in his room, and it felt good, and, uh. Exciting. Physically."
Renji didn't need to be able to see Sanada to know that he was flushing deep red. "Oh."
"I didn't realise I'd… get like that, with a guy."
"Genichirou, I don't wish to patronise you, but what did you think was going to happen if not that?"
"I was trying not to think about it," Sanada muttered. "At all."
"Did Niou, um, respond too?" Renji asked, and then covered his face with his free hand. "I can't believe we're having this conversation."
"I... I think so. He seemed to like kissing me, and… I'm so gay."
"I'm guessing that makes two of you, at least." Renji sighed. "Please tell me you didn't freak out and run off?"
"No, not really, I… not until I got home and thought about it."
"Thank heaven for small mercies." Renji sat down heavily. "Well. Congratulations, I suppose."
"I don't know what to do about it."
"I think you're doing all you need to for now, Genichirou. What with the kissing and so on. Everything else will, I suspect, come naturally."
There was a silence.
"Unless you'd rather I found you a textbook on the subject?"
"...I'll live without, thanks."
Renji smiled down the phone. "Stop worrying. It doesn't matter that he's a boy. Or it shouldn't. So just enjoy it, okay?"
"Hey, do you think we could just lock them in a cupboard together?"
Renji could hear Sanada chuckle tolerantly. "Who this time?"
He peered around the corner. Niou and Sanada were leaning against one of the railings, watching Kirihara and Yagyuu play a warm-up game. Niou stretched, catlike, and Sanada's gaze slid downwards appreciatively. Renji smiled to himself: it looked like Sanada was coming to terms with the physical side of attraction after all.
"Who do you think? It's driving me crazy listening to the brat," said Niou. "Yanagi-senpai said this, Yanagi-senpai did that, Yanagi-senpai's so kind and smart, Yanagi-senpai hung the moon. I don't know if he even realises how obvious his crush is."
Renji felt his stomach swoop, then drop heavily. Niou thought Akaya had a crush on him?
Sanada made a face. "Well, I don't think it's particularly obvious to Renji, and even if it was-"
"-I know." Niou sighed, and draped himself heavily over the railing. "Yanagi's so far in denial it hurts."
Renji blinked at that. Had Sanada told Niou about Renji's feelings? Or was Niou just guessing?
Sanada coughed. "He's fond of Kirihara, but I don't think-"
"Fond, like hell. He goes so weirdly paternal and tense around the kid, that's gotta be shame right there. He's got some dirty little fantasies about our kouhai, I'd bet money on it."
Renji flattened himself against the wall, to stop his legs giving way. He should walk away, stop listening. Eavesdroppers got what they deserved, he chanted to himself.
"That's… come on, that's not nice. He's my best friend."
"And he's a guy with needs. If it wasn't Kirihara there'd be someone he'd flog his log over, it's human nature." Niou's voice sounded amused. "I don't think he should feel ashamed, but I think he is, that's the problem."
"As if you remember what shame is."
"Tsk, someone doesn't want to come back to my house after practise after all."
"Ah-" and then there were approaching footsteps, and one of the pre-regulars cautiously asked Sanada for advice on his backhand, and Renji found enough strength to return to the locker room.
Renji was almost all the way to the library before he remembered that Furutani's usual schedule made it very likely she'd be there. He sighed, unwilling to face the prospect of awkward attempts at flirtation. On the other hand, he didn't really feel like hauling his textbooks home unnecessarily, and his classroom was being used by the drama club today.
After wandering for a while trying to find somewhere suitable, he ended up in the little office attached to the tennis courts, up on the balcony level. There was no practise today, after all, and it was quiet and reasonably comfortable.
It felt strange to be in there, if he was honest. It had been Yukimura's space in the previous year, his little nest of papers and pictures and plants and planners, though Renji had certainly logged his share of hours in the tiny room too. Since Yukimura's death, nobody had really been in there for longer than it took to clean and tidy up and - in Renji's case - to add paperwork to the appropriate folders. Renji sat for a moment, and ran his fingers along the slim drawer fitted into the desk. Yukimura had kept pictures of the team inside, he remembered, including several of the three of them - Sanada, Yukimura, and Renji himself - grinning happily together. Renji didn't think he could handle looking at those yet, somehow.
He shook himself out of the thought. This was a room, that was all. And he shouldn't let himself be haunted so.
When he surfaced from his essay-writing, he realised it was dusky-dark outside - a lot later than he'd intended to stay. He'd have to go ask the caretaker to let him out of the school gates, most likely.
He sighed, and started packing away his books carefully.
Someone knocked on the door, and he jumped.
"Yes?" he managed.
The door opened, and Akaya blinked at him in surprise, tennis bag slung over one shoulder. "Oh. I saw the light, and… um. I didn't know who'd be in here so late."
Renji glanced out of the window. "I lost track of time."
"That's not like you."
Renji slotted the last of his books into his bookbag. "Is the main building still open, do you know?"
Akaya shook his head. "Pretty sure it's not, sorry. I just jump the walls when it's this late, though."
"Niou's a bad influence on everyone." Renji frowned at his bag. "I guess I could just leave this here, and get it tomorrow morning."
"I almost thought I'd see him in there, you know, when I saw the light," said Akaya quietly, as Renji locked the door. "Stupid, really."
"Sorry for spooking you."
"It's okay." Akaya hitched his bag further up his shoulder. "Ready to head out?"
Renji stopped, and then groaned. "My actual bag is in my desk."
"Oh." Akaya tipped his head to one side. "Ah, your wallet?"
"Indeed. And my phone."
Akaya pulled a sympathetic face, and then Renji could see something occur to him.
"If you're thinking about breaking into my classroom, no. I'll walk home. At least I have my keys."
"Ha, no, but you live kind of far away… my place is only one stop away, way closer, and you can stay overnight."
"...won't your mother mind? It's late for you to spring this on her."
"She won't mind, honest." Akaya held out his phone. "But you probably need to call your mom, right?"
Renji hadn't spent that much time at Akaya's house recently, but from previous trips he recalled Akaya's room being a pit of tennis-related debris, unwashed socks and random manga magazines.
It was better than he remembered. No visible dirty laundry, at least, and the magazines were mostly confined to one corner, next to a sizable stack of well-thumbed paperback novels. The tennis heap, however, spawned a tangled ball of grip tape and spare strings and sneaker laces as Akaya ruthlessly kicked it aside and crammed the guest futon into the gap between his bed and the dresser.
"There," he said, and grinned at Renji. "I know it's a bit cramped, but Dad's been drinking and there's a chance he'll fall over you if you're in the main room."
"Thanks," said Renji, a little bemused, and he sat down. "Sorry for putting you out like this."
Akaya flashed him a weird, almost shy smile. "Ah, uh, it's fine, really, it's… you could stay over more often if you liked, I wouldn't mind. Um. Bathroom's down the hall, I'll… go get some towels for you."
Renji was trying to untangle the tennis strings from the sneaker laces when Akaya returned, some time later.
"I got you some tea," he said, looking faintly embarrassed. "We only had cold tea, but you like that too, right?"
Renji took the bottle, surprised. "That's… very thoughtful, thanks."
"The bathroom's at the end of the hall, next to the toilet, there's a sign on the door. Green towels are for you. Mom asked if you needed anything washed?"
"...ah, it's a little late to bother her, really, I'll be fine if I can borrow something to sleep in." Renji wondered why Akaya was quite so twitchy, and then it clicked. "You don't need to fuss over me, I'm imposing on you, it's not like having a proper guest, you know."
"But-"
"Please don't fuss, really." Renji smiled, as reassuringly as he could. "Tell your mother I'm fine, and thank her again for me, and then stop worrying, please."
Renji ended up with a pair of cotton pyjama trousers - a little short on him, but that was to be expected - and a plain t-shirt, after Akaya dug through his drawers. Renji winced internally as he pulled them on, in the efficient little bathroom that Akaya had directed him to. They smelt like Akaya, like Akaya's house, though they were obviously clean. Tomorrow he'd be washing with Akaya's soap, and Akaya's shampoo, and he'd be smelling Akaya on himself all day.
Back in the bedroom, Akaya was sitting up in his bed, legs crossed, fiddling with the laces Renji had just untangled. Renji put his uniform on the floor next to the futon, and - after a moment's thought - sat down on the bed next to Akaya.
"Those're too long on me," observed Akaya, and he leant back, setting the laces aside. "My mom's an optimist, keeps hoping I'll hit another growth spurt."
"You're a perfectly normal height already, for your age."
"Yeah, but she wants… well, if I was more like you, that'd be her ideal." Akaya smiled, faintly. "Tall and graceful and stuff."
Renji mirrored Akaya's posture, tucking his legs under the bed. "Then she'd complain about finding you trousers that fit right, believe me. You're fine just as you are."
"Sure." Akaya snorted, and then linked his hands together and stretched them out above his head for a moment. "Hey, have you met Marui-senpai's girlfriend yet?"
"I haven't. She doesn't attend Rikkai, does she?"
"Nah, but I was curious anyway."
Renji shrugged. "I'm glad for him. It's nice someone's happy, really."
Akaya made a vague, thoughtful noise. "Mm. Though, uh, Niou-senpai's pretty happy, I think? With fukubuchou, I mean. And fukubuchou… he's the same as ever, I guess."
"No, he's happy too. I think they're good for each other." And Renji meant it; Sanada wasn't precisely a bundle of radiant joy even at his best, but being with Niou seemed to have lifted the worst of the recent shadows from his expression.
Akaya turned to face Renji. "Do you think they're in love?"
Renji was so startled by the question that he actually recoiled a little, and smacked his head on the wall behind him. "Ow. Um. I don't know. I think probably it's a bit early for that?"
Akaya had stretched a hand out towards Renji when Renji's head bounced off the wall, as if to somehow offer help, and he paused with it held awkwardly in mid-air for a moment. "Oh. I guess. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Akaya pulled his hand back, and then appeared to reconsider. He leaned forward, and put his hand over Renji's, very gently.
"Akaya?"
"Sorry, I know you don't like it when I touch you, but-" Akaya flushed. "I need to tell you something."
Oh. Oh no. Renji swallowed, horribly afraid. "Please, Akaya, don't-"
"I like you. And, I mean that, and it doesn't matter that you like someone else, but I can't - you could get hit by a bus and I'd never have gotten to tell you either, so, I, I do. I like you."
Renji froze. Akaya… well, what he had was a crush, a silly little crush on his senpai, that was all. It wasn't guilt-ridden and tangled, not the way Renji's feelings were. Renji couldn't take advantage of that, he couldn't.
"Yanagi-senpai?"
"I'm… I'm very flattered."
Akaya's shoulders sagged, and he dropped his gaze to stare at his own knee. "Okay."
He sounded utterly miserable. Renji freed his hand and nudged Akaya's chin upwards, so that Akaya had to look at him. "I really am, you're… you're very sweet, Akaya."
"Ha." Akaya pushed his hand away, but did at least look him in the eye. "You don't hate me now, do you?"
Renji brushed a stray curl away from Akaya's brow. "Of course not. Thank you."
Akaya studied him for a moment, as if trying to read Renji's expression, then he surged forward and pressed his lips damply against Renji's for a moment. Renji was too startled to really react before Akaya pulled away, looking even pinker than before. "Sorry, I-"
"It's okay," Renji said, reflexively. "Um."
Akaya scrambled backwards, as far away as he could without actually hitting the wall behind his pillow. "No, it's not, I really - I shouldn't have done that."
"Akaya, calm down. I'm not mad, I'm… I'm still flattered." Renji reached out and put a hand, soothingly, on Akaya's nearest leg, wishing he knew what else he could say that wouldn't be a lie.
Akaya leant back against the far wall, his eyes screwed tightly closed. He shook his head after a moment. "I'm such an idiot."
"Don't say that."
"I am. Can we pretend I didn't say anything? Please."
Renji nodded, mutely, and pulled his hand back.
"I, ah. It's getting late. You can have the bed, I'll take the futon, it's kind of lumpy," said Akaya, and he stood up, apology and shame visible in every line of his body. "I'll go, uh, bathroom."
The door closed behind him, and it felt like Renji's brain suddenly caught up with everything that had just happened in one heavy blow. He buried his face in his hands, horrified. Akaya had confessed to him and kissed him and Renji had made him feel embarrassed and awful in return.
Akaya practically slunk back into the room, a few minutes later, turning off the light as he did so.
Renji lay there in the darkness, listening to Akaya shifting around for a few minutes, hating himself.
"Akaya," he said, after a while. "I don't want to pretend it didn't happen."
There was a pause, then a rustling noise, and then Akaya's face rose above the edge of the bed. "Yanagi-senpai-"
"You just kissed me, don't call me that." Renji reached out, and tweaked one of Akaya's curls. "It was the nicest confession I've ever gotten, for what it's worth."
Akaya smiled, and it was like a tiny sun rising above the horizon of the bedframe.
"Goodnight, Akaya. And thank you, again."
"...yeah. G'night."
Sanada very nearly dropped his practise blade when Renji told him that Kirihara had confessed to him.
"You're kidding," he said instead, dropping out of chūdan-no-kamae completely and kneeling to give Renji a spontaneous one-armed hug. "That's wonderful."
"No, it isn't. I turned him down."
Sanada drew back, frowning. "Why?"
"Because it doesn't matter, it still wouldn't be right for me to do anything about it."
Sanada blinked, and then cuffed the back of Renji's head, quite hard. "Idiot."
"Ow."
"He's not a child, Renji, he's sixteen - nearly seventeen, now. You wouldn't be corrupting him."
Renji tipped his head to one side. "You've been talking to Niou too much. You're starting to sound like him."
Sanada, to his credit, flushed a little at that. "But it's true. It's like you still sometimes think of him as our little baby ace, eating sweets and crying easily and throwing tantrums. Wide-eyed and innocent."
"I… I suppose I do, sort of." Renji frowned. "Sometimes."
"He's grown up a lot, especially since… especially this year."
It was true. "I know."
"You're attracted to him, you said. Why? Not because you still think of him as a middle-schooler, I hope?"
"I… he's brave, and generous, and truthful, and passionate. And there's... being around him makes my chest hurt, Genichirou, I can't explain it better than that."
Sanada snorted. "What do you actually want, though? You want to kiss him? Or you want to keep him up on some untouchable pedestal where he can't possibly get hurt?"
Renji blinked. "Ah… I don't know."
"I think you're just scared you might actually end up happy." Sanada levered himself back up, and got back into a proper stance again.
"That's unfair."
"But true. You know what I think? You need to stop thinking of him as your vulnerable little kouhai. He deserves better."
"How is it that you actually competently managed the team accounts when you were captain?"
Akaya pulled a face. "That bad?"
"It's baffling," said Renji, and pointed at the exercises. "You get the complicated bits right - all the way through here and here, you're doing everything right. And then all you have to do is plug in some numbers and do simple arithmetic, and it's like it all falls apart on you."
Akaya peered at where Renji was pointing. "Oh. I thought that looked wrong."
"You can always double-check with a calculator, you know. Even in exams." Renji ran the back end of his pencil down the next exercise. "And here, again - this is all okay, you clearly get how to balance the equations, but then you get the arithmetic wrong here so your final answer ends up wrong."
Akaya pulled his notebook back, and frowned down at it.
"If I was your teacher, I'd make you do multiplication and division exercises." Renji closed the textbook. "You could apparently do with the practise."
"It's not that I can't do it, I think," volunteered Akaya, and he crossed out the last few lines of one of the exercises. "Now you point it out, of course eighteen times five isn't eighty. I think maybe I just go too fast?"
Renji grinned, and ruffled Akaya's hair. "Also very likely, yes."
They were holed up in the little office above the courts - Renji couldn't shake the sensation of Yukimura's presence, but he wanted to reclaim the space from that association before Akaya took over as captain next year. They couldn't have generations of students thinking the place was haunted, nobody would ever do the paperwork again.
A clatter from outside - a ball hitting the balcony edge - reminded him that the inside courts were actually in use this afternoon, and he grinned to himself.
Akaya twisted in his chair, and cracked open the door to peer outside. "That's so weird."
"I fear it's an inevitable outcome of their personalities, really."
"Yeah, but really, how is that a date?"
"It works for them, apparently." For all Renji's jokes about how lazy a date idea it was - and for all his fears about how it might cause more arguments than anything else - it did seem like Niou and Sanada both really enjoyed the chance to play tennis against one another regularly. Though it did seem to involve rather a lot of yelling and glaring. "If they say it's a date, I guess it's a date."
"I guess so." Akaya closed the door again, then turned and planted his elbows on the side of the desk, resting his chin in his hands. "It doesn't seem very romantic."
"I have to agree." Not that Renji could imagine Niou and Sanada being particularly romantic, as a couple. Maybe they were, privately. It wasn't really his business, since Sanada rarely talked about the specifics of the relationship any more. "As long as they're happy with it, though, I suppose that's all that matters."
"Ha." Akaya wrinkled his nose. "Um. So I was talking to Yagyuu-senpai."
"Oh?"
"He said I should ask you about the guy you like."
"Did he." Renji wondered if Yagyuu had been talking to Niou, then realised it was a foolish question. Of course he had. "Specifically?"
"Um. What's he like? Why haven't you asked him out?"
"He's complicated," Renji said, wryly. "I think he's quite bright, but he thinks with his heart rather than his head, and he's so impulsive sometimes that he doesn't really think at all."
Akaya looked bewildered. "But that's… he sounds like the opposite of you."
"I suppose so. I don't think that's so strange, though, is it?"
"You know, I thought it might be a teacher," Akaya said, and then he bit his lip and shook his head as if embarrassed by having theorised at all. "You said inappropriate, and that way they'd be clever enough for you, and that would explain why you couldn't even say anything to them. But… that doesn't sound like a teacher."
"No, it's not a teacher."
Akaya stared down at his textbook. "Why haven't you told him?"
"I… I don't know any more."
There was a silence, punctuated by the faint sounds of tennis from below.
"Genichirou says I'm scared of being happy. Maybe he's right. I'd gotten very used to the idea of just nobly suffering in silence, and to change that… it's frightening."
Akaya snorted. "You know, I've read a ton of those old books you like." He flushed. "Because you liked them. And people are always sad in them. They never really make connections, they just long for each other and then die alone. That's not romantic in real life, it's dumb."
Renji recalled the pile of paperbacks in Akaya's room; that was his influence? "That's certainly a valid perspective."
Akaya stood up, and started pulling his books into a pile. "Just tell him, senpai. At least give him a chance to say yes."
Renji had ignored the criticisms the first few times he heard the mutterings, but it seemed to hit some kind of critical mass when the initial lineups for the district competition were posted - Hirota and Suda as second doubles, Niou and Marui in doubles one, and then Yagyuu and Kirihara and Renji in the singles slots. Sanada was sitting it out - someone had to, he'd reasoned, and Renji'd shrugged. He was unlikely to get to play as it was; if any regional opponents made it to singles 2 it'd be incredibly surprising.
The gist of the complaints, as far as Renji could gather, was that some of the third-year pre-regulars seemed to think that two second-years on the team was practically an insult. Never mind that Hirota had come out of the ranking matches as an obvious choice; apparently seniority was worth more than individual merit to some.
To have made such a ridiculous decision, apparently, was a clear sign that Sanada wasn't fit to pick out a good team. He was only fukubuchou, after all, and maybe the reason he hadn't officially taken the captain's position was because everyone knew he couldn't live up to Yukimura's legacy.
And then one of them made the mistake of verbalising that line of thought right in front of Niou, who punched him.
Official retribution, thankfully, was easy to head off - Niou immediately made a nearly sincere apology to the idiot, and Sanada struck Niou from the lineups for the entire district competition as punishment, and that seemed to pacify the school sufficiently.
Sanada spent the next week officially being very annoyed that Niou had lost his temper quite so thoroughly. Meanwhile, the ridiculous whispers died down. Even if that was only due to fear of further retribution - other team members had made it clear that they would probably have done the same in Niou's place - then it was still a positive outcome.
The fact that Niou'd obviously been so enraged because it was Sanada that had been insulted was quite sweet, in its own way, Renji thought. Certainly Sanada seemed to think so; he practically glowed when he looked at Niou these days. It gave him hope, really.
Inviting himself over had been simple enough. It wasn't even that hard to invent a pretext; Renji had dug up a more modern adaptation of the text Akaya had been studying, and since he'd rather enjoyed the first one it only made sense to offer to watch this one with Akaya too.
And now Renji sat crosslegged on Akaya's bed, while Akaya was on the floor in front of him, leaning back against the edge of the bed. The movie had been playing for a while, and Akaya seemed quite absorbed in it. Renji, on the other hand, kept finding himself staring down at the back of Akaya's neck. At times like this, the idea of getting drunk seemed really appealing. At least then, as he understood it, he wouldn't be so very afraid of acting on his desires.
He held his breath, and lifted one hand to the back of Akaya's head. He ran his fingers through the locks at the back, as if merely neatening Akaya's hair.
Akaya tipped his head back, and blinked owlishly up at him, upside down. "Hm?"
"Sorry, is that distracting?" asked Renji.
"Mm," said Akaya, and he tipped his head back to watch the screen. "No, it's… it's fine."
Renji stroked his fingers through Akaya's hair again, and pulled one of the tighter curls straight for a moment - not as long as he'd thought, actually. He wound the lock of hair around his finger, thoughtfully, and then let it bounce back up.
Akaya shifted, a little, and dipped his head forward as if in invitation. Renji's hand drifted down, and he ran the back of his finger down the fuzzy down on the nape of Akaya's neck, then back up. Akaya shivered at that, to his delight. Renji ran the tip of his finger down again as far as the edge of Akaya's shirt, and then back up again. When Akaya didn't twitch a second time he splayed his fingers out across the side of Akaya's neck, allowing the movement to become a caress.
"...senpai," Akaya said, and there was a warning to his voice. "What are you doing?"
"I'm not sure," admitted Renji, his hand sliding down, inside Akaya's shirt, onto Akaya's collarbone. "Would you like me to stop?"
Akaya frowned, and then he turned around completely to face Renji. "It's just... are you hitting on me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Renji hunched down, so he was closer to Akaya's eye level. "Because I'm trying to be less of a coward."
"Uh?"
"You did say I should tell the guy I like how I feel. But I don't know what words would be right, when it's you. And it is you."
Akaya's eyes went very round and disbelieving. "But-"
"Have you changed your mind about me?"
Akaya blinked, his eyes almost cartoonishly wide, and then he scrambled upwards so he could half-kneel on the bed next to Renji. "Not at all, are you kidding - can I - is it okay to -"
Renji pulled him close and kissed him. Akaya's hands immediately slid up his arms and gripped his shirt, as if to make sure he couldn't escape. Renji had vaguely thought about how this kiss might be: gentle, romantic, even cautious. Akaya seemed to have other ideas, and by the time Renji managed to surface for air Akaya was firmly in his lap, and somehow half of Renji's shirt buttons had been undone and Renji had no idea where his tie or sweater had gone.
"Ah," said Akaya, sounding breathless. "I - the door's unlocked, I should, um."
Renji realised that his hands were gripping Akaya's waist, trapping him. He let go, and Akaya stood and fumbled to slide across the bolt on his door, and then turned and just looked at Renji for a moment, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.
Renji scooted backwards, so he was leaning against the headboard. "Are you okay?"
"Are you really here? I'm not dreaming?"
Renji laughed, and patted the bed. "I hope not. I really don't want to have to confess again when you wake up."
"Oh, I don't know," Akaya said with a grin, as he returned to Renji's arms. "I think I could handle that. Any time you want to confess again, you feel free."
Renji settled for kissing him again instead.
"If you suggest we start double-dating, I will hit you."
"You and Niou really are a terrible influence on each other." Renji smiled, to soften the observation, and slid the latest set of permission forms into the appropriate folder. "Besides, what would be wrong with double-dates?"
"Niou's weird enough about proper dates as it is," grumbled Sanada. "Unless you mean actual doubles, I think he'd freak out more."
"Ah."
Sanada gave Renji a sideways look. "It's okay, we just… um, never mind."
"Either you're trying to spare my delicate maidenly sensibilities, or you're going to tell me it's just always tennis dates for you two, and I don't know which is more worrying."
"Tennis," said Sanada firmly. "It's tennis."
Renji laughed, and returned the folders on the desk to the shelf where they belonged. "Well, you're spared anyway. Akaya doesn't think much of the idea of tennis dates."
"You two don't know what you're missing."
"I'm sure we'll manage, nevertheless."
"That time when I got Marui's gum in my hair and you had to cut it out?"
"No, I don't think so."
Akaya was lying with his head in Renji's lap. They were, theoretically, having yet another study session, but Renji had to admit that Akaya's mathematics homework had been perfectly acceptable this time when he'd looked it over. Maybe he'd actually learned to double-check his work. If it took the prospect of freeing up more makeout time to get him to do that, Renji was very happy to oblige.
"What about last summer, when we all stayed at fukubuchou's house, when you came in to wake me up? You gave me this weird look and then ruffled my hair."
"...yes, I probably wanted to kiss you then," Renji confirmed. "Pretty much any time I've touched you in the past year or so, I've wanted to kiss you."
"Huh." Akaya grinned up at him, looking pleased. "It's weird you don't remember the first time. I do."
"Really?"
"Mm." Akaya winked. "I'll tell you if you can at least guess the year right."
"Last year."
"Nope. You forfeit, I get a kiss."
"Not much of a forfeit," murmured Renji, but he bent his head and brushed his lips against Akaya's anyway. "The year before?" he hazarded, sitting back up.
"No. Three years ago, I guess? It was after we lost the finals, and you were so kind and reassuring, and I just… I just remember suddenly wanting to kiss you, really."
"Huh."
Akaya blinked up at him, and then past him, thoughtfully. "Ah, it's weird. I remember always liking buchou, in this uncomfortable, really intense way, and I always knew I liked him too much. But for you, it was just like I suddenly noticed, oh, yeah, I'm crazy about him too."
Renji put his hand over Akaya's. "Quite a lot earlier than me, then, I think."
"Ah. That's okay. I don't think I'd have really have known how to deal with any of this, back then."
"Mm." Renji bent his head down and kissed the tip of Akaya's nose. "Let's not have the 'what-if' conversation, hm? We're here now, that's the thing."
Akaya smiled again. "Yeah."
"Alright, alright, I'm here. Now tell me why I'm here?"
Renji reached forward, and tugged open the drawer in the top of the desk. There was, as he'd expected, a whole stack of photos in there.
"I'd forgotten about these," said Sanada.
"I couldn't face them alone."
"Mm." Sanada reached past Renji, into the drawer. He gently lifted out a handful and spread them out across the table. Yukimura's wide smile stared out from two of the topmost ones, and Renji was surprised at how little it stung to see it.
"We look so young," he said, staring at one that dated from middle school. "And look at my hair."
"Please, we all had terrible hair." Sanada pushed the top photos aside. "Ha, and Niou here. Look at him, looking as though he wasn't already causing trouble wherever he went."
"This must be from that debate competition Yagyuu was in, a couple of years ago - that's the girl he liked from the club, look."
"Ha, and Jackal here - this was his birthday party, I think. Last year?"
Renji picked up one of Akaya, looking jubilant after a match, with Yukimura looking unutterably proud and cheerful next to him, his arm around Akaya's waist. Less than a year ago, he thought. "Hm. What should we do with these, do you think?"
"I don't know." Sanada glanced over, and made a thoughtful noise. "I don't think anyone would mind if we kept them. Or gave them to the people in them. Yukimura's family have lots of pictures of him."
"Yes."
Sanada flipped through the rest, as if not really seeing them, and then peered into the drawer again. "I miss him, still, you know."
"We all do. I don't think you stop missing someone like him."
"Mmm." Sanada snorted, and then draped an arm across Renji's shoulders. "I keep thinking what he'd make of, well, you know. All this dating of boys."
"I think his first thought would be to wonder why fully half of his team batted for the other side, as it were," said Renji, ruefully. "And then he'd have made a lot of jokes until he felt a bit more comfortable with the idea."
"Yeah. You should have heard him splutter when I first told him about kissing Niou." Sanada pulled a face, then smiled ruefully. "But he'd be pleased in the end, I think."
"I'd like to think so." Renji looked again at the photo of Yukimura with Akaya. He wondered for a moment: if Yukimura was still alive, would Akaya even have looked twice at Renji? He shook his head, irritated at himself, and pinned the photo to his reminder noticeboard above the tournament date listings.
"Mm." Sanada frowned. "Might that not a bit hard on him? I mean, he does come up here, he'll see that."
"I want him to." Renji smoothed out a slight crease in the corner. "It'll remind him what he has to live up to, next year."
"...you know, if this is how you treat your boyfriend, I'm really glad you never liked me that way."
Making out in the locker rooms before a match was tacky, tawdry and risky. Renji'd caught Sanada and Niou doing exactly that before the first match of the prefecturals, and - after scolding them appropriately - made a solemn vow to himself that he wouldn't ever do anything of the sort.
Unfortunately he'd forgotten to share this decision with Akaya, who had more or less ambushed him as soon as they were alone on the second day. It seemed, somehow, a lot less tacky when Renji was the one that had a very determined boyfriend pinning him up against the side of the lockers, stretching up and kissing him hungrily.
A door slammed in the corridor outside eventually. It wasn't quite close enough to be dangerous, but it was enough to make Akaya draw back from the kiss slowly.
"Nnn," Akaya murmured, and wormed his arms around Renji in a hug instead, pressing his cheek against Renji's collarbone. "We should go up and see if the doubles matches are done yet."
"I suspect we've got a while yet," said Renji wryly, resisting the urge to haul Akaya back upwards to continue the kiss. "And I'm probably going to need it before I can go up there, thank you very much."
Akaya glanced down between them. "Oops."
"I'm really not complaining, believe me. But, um. A little space would be wise?"
Akaya perched lazily on the bench opposite instead, his eyes lit with amusement. With a few inches of solid air between them, Renji adjusted himself carefully and then leant back against the lockers. He tried to think of soothing, unsexy things. It didn't help; Akaya was right there, after all.
"What brought that on, anyway?"
"I need an excuse now?" Akaya grinned at him. "I just… you look good in shorts."
Renji glanced down at himself, and then pulled what he hoped was a disbelieving expression at Akaya.
"Well, right now you look kinda pervy in shorts. But… I dunno. I like your legs."
"Duly noted."
"You know, they might not even need us today."
Technically that was true. Renji was in the singles 2 slot this afternoon, with Kirihara in singles 1. The competition at prefecturals was never that tough. Their opponents today were reasonably mediocre. The chance of there being a singles 2 match was probably only about 20% at best.
Still. "They will notice if we don't show up," Renji said, wistfully. Sanada would throttle him if he was needed and wasn't actually around.
"You're so responsible," Akaya said, rolling his eyes. "Niou-senpai taught me how to block up the doors in here so nobody can get in."
"Except Niou," Renji pointed out.
"...ah." Akaya stretched. "Alright, you win. Can you at least come over to mine this evening, then?"
"If we win."
"Pfft, senpai, of course we'll win. Have faith in me."
Niou and Sanada broke up, abruptly, after the prefecturals were over.
Sanada absolutely swore to Renji that it was a mutual decision, that they'd both agreed it was for the best, that they just kept arguing too much and couldn't patch over all the differences by playing tennis and kissing. This way they'd be able to remain friends, was the theory.
Renji humoured Sanada for the duration of the phone call, but it quickly became evident that he and Niou were both extremely sensitive and upset about the breakup. Sanada at least tried to pretend he wasn't sulking at practise; Niou didn't even bother. There was a week of scowling and huffing and neither of them directly talking to each other. It was incredibly detrimental to both their playing styles. Then Niou started skipping practises, and Sanada refused to assign punishment and made Renji track down and scold Niou instead.
It was all too very melodramatic for Renji's taste. Especially since, once Niou grudgingly began returning to practise, they'd apparently gotten past the sulking stage and replaced it with regretful sighs and glancing at each other wistfully. There was a lot of blushing and missed shots; even the mostly-oblivious Suda began commenting on how Sanada couldn't seem to aim a serve effectively when Niou was in the same building.
Yagyuu's patience snapped first. He and Renji exchanged a few shared observations, then sought assistance and advice. In the end, the whole team simply conspired to lock Niou and Sanada in a cupboard together. It took, by Renji's estimation, no longer than fifteen minutes before the breakup was revoked.
Akaya was extremely affectionate and tactile, in private. Renji had been startled by quite how enthusiastically physical Akaya was about their relationship, and then had reprimanded himself for being surprised. Still, in theory Renji was supposed to be spending a non-trivial percentage of his spare time studying, and in practise the bulk of his spare time was being spent with Akaya in ways that probably weren't going to improve his final grades.
He probably should be more concerned about that, but his finals seemed extremely distant when contrasted to the extremely vivid awareness of Akaya's proximity. And they had nationals to be worried about before studying could really claim priority anyway. Maybe by then they'd be able to spend ten minutes alone together without the urge to kiss overwriting every rational thought in Renji's head.
Akaya was currently dozing against his side, one leg flung over Renji's thigh as if to pin him in place. Renji glanced at the clock, and then reluctantly put his hand on Akaya's shoulder to wake him.
Akaya mumbled something, and tried to burrow even closer.
Renji gently stroked Akaya's shoulder, and then followed the touch with a line of kisses. It was tempting to call home and arrange to stay over again. It'd been a week since he'd last stayed over; Akaya's mother liked Renji - admittedly, without any idea of the true nature of his involvement with her son - and probably wouldn't mind too much. Though he'd still have to put his clothes back on, even so.
"I've got to get dressed," he murmured, reluctantly. "Come on, you."
Akaya's eyes stayed closed, but he frowned just enough for Renji to be certain he was awake.
"Your mother will knock on the door in approximately eight minutes, to ask if I need a ride home."
Akaya sighed, and opened his eyes. "Okay, okay."
Renji had now had enough experience of Akaya's diversion tactics that it actually only took him five of those minutes to get dressed. By the time Akaya's mother came to make polite noises about the lateness of the hour, Renji'd even managed to straighten the bed.
It was still light outside, but Akaya insisted on walking him to the station anyway.
"Nationals soon," Renji said, since Akaya was being uncharacteristically quiet. "I don't anticipate too many problems, but Hyoutei-"
"Pfft, we'll crush them, don't worry," Akaya said, and he flashed a grin. "Sorry, I was just thinking about buchou. Yukimura-buchou, I mean."
"Ah."
"I think he'd be really happy with us, this year. The team. I thought we'd fall apart, you know."
Renji thought about that. "No. I think he'd be proud, but I think he'd expect nothing less of us than victory, even without him."
"...and so I think Sanada-senpai should be made captain. Properly. Before we start Nationals."
"Oh."
"It's not just me, either. Hirota, Yagyuu-senpai, Marui-senpai. I asked around the team and… he's been working so hard, and it's not like it would be disrespectful to Yukimura-buchou really."
The road was quiet, a little residential path that didn't see much traffic at this time of night. Renji freed his right hand from his bag strap, and took hold of Akaya's closest hand. "I'm not sure he'd be very happy with the idea."
"Well, I'm not happy with the idea of him never being formally captain, when this is the second time he's had to lead us all to nationals." Akaya squeezed Renji's hand, tightly. "And you should be officially fukubuchou. You are, already, it's just a title, but that doesn't mean it doesn't matter."
"I don't think-"
"When I talk about my predecessors, as captain next year, I want to be able to name you. Both of you." Akaya let go, and shrugged. "We're good enough to take Nationals, even without Yukimura-buchou, and that's a big deal. Take credit for what you've achieved this year."
Renji bit his lip on the instinctive demurral, and nodded. "I'll ask him."
"No, you won't. You'll talk each other out of it, because honouring Yukimura-buchou is more important to you both than allowing people to know who is actually responsible for how good we still are. We're all going to tell him, at practise, and you're going to back me up or I'll… I don't know. I'll think of something."
"Alright." Renji grabbed Akaya's hand again, tugging him so they were side-by-side. "You know, I'm suddenly glad you're younger than me. If you were my buchou I'd never get my way in club again."
"You can't tell me I'm worse than Yukimura-buchou for that, c'mon."
"I think you have him beaten, but then, maybe it's just that you have more leverage than he did." Renji stopped; they were still partly-shadowed by the buildings around them, and the street was deserted. Akaya paused a step ahead of him, looking confused until Renji closed the distance and kissed him.
"Mm, okay, you do remember we're in public, right?"
"Seiichi'd be so proud of you," Renji said. "You do know that, right?"
Akaya flushed. "Ah, I don't know-"
"I do." Renji kissed Akaya again, very gently. "Now come on, or I'll miss my train."
They took Nationals.
It was a little more difficult than Renji'd anticipated; Seigaku and Hyoutei were as much of a challenge as anticipated, but the final match was against a surprisingly disciplined and focused Shitenhouji.
Sanada thumped Niou approvingly on the back, after he and Akaya won their doubles match.
"Oh, but now you don't get to play," Niou said, with a grin. "Sorry for stealing your glory."
"You can make it up to me later," said Sanada, mock-frowning.
Akaya snorted at that, and nudged Renji gently. "You know, Zaizen's already trash-talking me about next year."
"Well, you beat his team last time you were captain, I'm sure you won't have any real problems." Renji ruffled Akaya's hair. "I have faith in you."
Sanada made an acceptance speech, on behalf of the team, thanking their opponents and the organisers, and praising his team for their excellent work. Reasonably formulaic; for a moment Renji wondered if Sanada had literally just dug up the text for the speech Yukimura had given the previous year. And then Sanada talked a little about how this year had been important for Rikkai, how it had meant a lot to them to live up to Yukimura's legacy, and how this victory was dedicated to him. The words didn't sting, as Renji would have thought. Instead, they comforted and lightened his heart, and Renji blinked back sudden tears. This was the one task he knew Yukimura would have demanded of them, and they had fulfilled it completely.
The team all lit incense, afterwards, in a shrine not too far from the tennis courts. Yukimura had even come here a few times with Renji, to pray for victory before matches. Nowhere was free of memories.
Akaya slid his hand into Renji's, as Renji read some of the emas hung next to the shrine.
"I should write one of these," he murmured, and leant against Renji's side for a moment. "Ask for divine guidance."
"With what?"
Akaya dug in his pocket, and pulled out a couple of business cards. "Scouts."
Renji reached across and tugged them out of Akaya's hand. "I thought you were staying at Rikkai, if you got that scholarship."
"I'm applying anyway. I asked Yukimura-san if it was okay for high school, and my parents could do with the money. And if I leave, someone else can apply then, right?"
"Ah."
"I'm good enough to go pro."
That wasn't a question, it was a statement. Renji nodded anyway.
"I'm not really sure I'm good enough at anything else to make a living from it." Akaya's hand flexed in Renji's. "But that's not the point, really. I want to go pro, and I shouldn't let anything stop me."
"Are you going to finish high school?"
Akaya gave Renji a weird look. "Of course. I'm gonna win nationals next year."
"Well, in theory you could leave this year, if the scouts are that eager."
Akaya let go, and dug around in his pocket. "Nah. I think… I think Yukimura'd want me to be captain again? I mean, he could have gone pro years back, and he stayed to lead us. Least I can do is the same."
"Hm." Renji wasn't quite sure Yukimura's motivation had been quite as pure as that, but perhaps it would be churlish to argue.
Akaya brandished some coins. "Ema. You want me to get one for you to write? Or is that bad luck, I can never remember."
"I'm fine, thank you."
Renji watched Akaya make his way over to the booth by the entrance to the shrine.
It would have been rather nice for Akaya to be starting on the circuit next year, Renji thought wistfully. It would have meant him spending a lot of time in Tokyo, which would give them a lot more chances to spend time together. Ah well. Rikkai wasn't that far from Toudai, really.
Akaya didn't take long, and returned with a grin.
"There," Akaya said, hanging his ema up on an already-rather-crowded hook. It read 'I want to live up to everyone's expectations', and Renji winced.
"Noble," was all he said, when Akaya glanced at him as if seeking approval.
"Yeah," said Akaya, and then he produced a second ema. "This one's the selfish one."
The writing was rather smaller and more cramped, and Renji had to squint to read it.
I want to choose a good coach to train me. I want to be the best tennis player in the world. I want my father to get a promotion at work. I want my mother's stomach to stop worrying her. I want Yanagi-senpai to get into Toudai. I want to be happy and to make the people I love happy.
"This is still not that selfish," Renji observed, rather touched, as he reached up to hang the ema on a higher hook than Akaya could reach by himself. "Though I have to ask, when did you go back to calling me that?"
"I can't write Renji on an ema, it's not respectful."
"It's still my name, and I doubt the gods would care either way." Renji ruffled Akaya's hair. "And for the record, you already make me very happy."
Akaya looked pleased, though he flushed an impressive shade of pink. "Nn, don't say stuff like that in public."
"It's true. And when I get into Toudai, you'd better come visit me so I can thank you for asking for me."
"Every weekend." Akaya leant into him again. "Every evening, if you'd let me."
Renji put his arm around Akaya, and pressed his cheek against Akaya's hair, and gave quiet thanks. He glanced around the shrine; Niou and Marui and Suda were huddled by the gate, in quiet discussion. Yagyuu and Hirota were inspecting the various charms and luck tokens for sale on the far side of the grounds. And Sanada was intently watching the incense they'd lit for Yukimura, as if he was determined to verify it was burning to his satisfaction. Maybe he was. It was entirely possible Sanada would actually take offense if the incense didn't live up to the standard he demanded for honoring Yukimura.
It still hurt, sometimes. Yukimura had been his best friend, a confidante and conspirator. Without him around, it felt like there was a gulf that neither he or Sanada could quite bridge. Sometimes Renji still forgot Yukimura was gone, that he couldn't send him a text about some amusing news item or call him up to laugh about some absurdity or just to get Yukimura's insight on a problem. Those times were getting fewer, and the absence wasn't quite as painful as it had been at first. But it wasn't pain-free, not yet.
And it hurt, in a different way, to think about Akaya's feelings for Yukimura. Renji couldn't even begin to compete with someone who was no longer around to be flawed and human and difficult. But it might be even more complicated if Yukimura were still around, and the accompanying sense of relief from that thought had sent him into a little spiral of shame that he fully intended never to discuss with anyone.
He glanced up at Akaya's 'selfish' ema.
Yukimura would have teased Renji, a little, about being named on it. Actually, if Sanada spotted it, he'd probably tease Renji too; it was a very open admission of emotions on Akaya's part. But Renji wanted to cherish it, to cradle it protectively and show it to everyone proudly. Akaya was still thoughtless sometimes, brash and selfish and clumsy, prone to acting without stopping to consider the consequences. Renji wasn't blind to that. But Akaya was optimistic and passionate. He loved so widely, with all his heart, and he tried to be a better person for the people that he thought were important, and Renji didn't even know how he could begin to feel worthy of the way Akaya looked at him.
Well. There was time enough to worry about that. For now, he was just going to be grateful.
The last of the incense burned out. Renji looked up, into the brightness of the summer sky. Happiness. It was a lovely thought. And maybe, maybe it was even possible to achieve. Not for Yukimura's sake, or even for Akaya's. For himself.
He squeezed Akaya's shoulder. The least he could do, really, was try.
Author's note:
I don't ship Yanagi/Kirihara. Or rather, I didn't, and now I think I've talked myself into it.
(I have also given myself a lot of angry thoughts about privilege and graciousness and consideration and crediting other people with genuine emotional depth while writing this. Oh, Renji, sometimes you are smackable. Ahem. I also shamelessly indulged my own theories about people's families; I seem to have really strong opinions about Yukimura's mother for some reason.)
And yeah, I know, I killed Yukimura. I'm not even sorry.
