Author's Introduction:

T'is a bit early, but I felt a miniature update is due for the very, very kind people that have favorited, followed and reviewed this story. Truly, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I know how much courage it can take to review a story and leave kind though constructive feedback; I often find myself floundering between the line of actually reviewing and holding my comments secret to my heart.

In specific, I dedicate this little piece to Amethystgirl1943 for her (assuming gender due to lack of indicator and "girl" in username) gentle though earnest urging. Even though you didn't explicitly demand it, it is because of you that I've decided to do my best to write more in this universe, even if they are just snippets. Thank you.

This is a small scene from Third Person Yukimura Subjective Perspective, and from here, most drabbles (if posted) will be in relative order. I will attempt to include a small indicator at the top of each scene that indicates where in the time line it is, according to the first chapter.


Death's Reaper and His Lover

Vision of a Reaper


Four Years Earlier:

Tennis, Yukimura mused impassively from where he stood, like most sports, was a lot like swordsmanship and other martial arts. After a certain point, one could even synthesize an opponent's emotions through the very reverberation in the court. He had heard of it long ago, somewhere, whispered in the tongues of urban legends. He'd even been able to evoke it in particular matches with other players of relative skill, but none like this.

Looking down the seemingly miles of distance between him and the other end of the court, he found he could not keep the brief smile from his face. Despite his loss, there was a sensation of excitement buzzing beneath his skin that hadn't been there before.

Across from him, Echizen wore a small smile, easily mistakable for being a tilt of his mouth, though his face glowed softly with the elation of a hard won victory. The boy moved first, encroaching near the net and for once uttered something other than his infamous motto, "Your play is terrifying, you know." Then he lifted eyes of liquid gold to cast lots with those of the ocean, and he cocked his head to the side, seemingly searching Yukimura's face for the right words. The first year laughed a little, quiet and sweet in a way none had before heard from the stoic child, then turned his back and began walking away, throwing over his shoulder, "But it's also beautiful. Terrifying but absolutely breathtaking. It was fun."

Rikkai Dai's captain watched him go with fascination embedded in his eyes, sure that the uproar in the stands around them made him the sole person to hear what he had said. Yukimura looked down at his racket, running his fingers over its strings with fondness, then realized just what had transpired. They had actually stood on the very same court, played the very same game, been two very different people, and yet still managed to exchange parts of their souls in their play. The thought stunned him.

So, when he looked up again and saw Fuji smiling expressionlessly at him, he smiled back and thought profoundly, 'That child will go far, far places and do great, great things.' Years later, he would know that this was just the beginning; that he was the first—though perhaps the second, seeing how Fuji's eyes slowly opened—to see the man that child could be.

"Terrifying, Echizen?" he called out before the boy could move out of the range of hearing, "I think you're mistaken. You are far more terrifying than I." Echizen paused but did not look back, then continued forward without acknowledging his words. Yukimura laughed, combing a hand back through his hair. They called him Child of God, like it somehow made him a deity of some kind, but, watching as the Prince of Tennis walked away, he could see the start of a God forming in the lines of the prince's back.

Hands shaking with a pleasant sort of numbness, God's Child turned towards his own team and made the short yet endless walk to them. Sanada stood in wait with jacket, towel, and bottle of water, all of which he took gratefully. He then fell gracefully onto the bench and bent forward, only just noticing the burn of his lungs for air.


Thank you all for reading, I do appreciate the time you have spent reading, and I definitely value your feedback if you would care to share it!

~ Betwixted and Bewitched