Tango Towards Destruction
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Sanada x
Atobe
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The boys are Konomi Takeshi's, not
mine.
Warnings: It'll be long. Takes place in future, and is thus
a little AU-ish.
And for today, we have Yukimura angst.
Notes From Yukimura's POV, just like I thought before. I hope the different POV will explain some of the odd thing about Sanada's personality before. And what ever it might seem like, this is SanaAto fic still. I'm just throwing some plot devices here for later use.
English is my second language, so there might be some grammar errors. I'm truly sorry about that still.
Now I've had somebody smarter than me correcting it. ) chinawolf (at LJ), I'm endlessly grateful to you!
Hope you enjoy reading!
Tango towards destruction
'Life is
like a shooting star
It don't matter who you are
If you only
run for cover, it's just a waste of time
We are lost 'til we are
found
This phoenix rises up from the ground
And all these wars
are over'
Dolphins cry – Live
Chapter 2
The silent hours.
The food had been delicious. Sarah was a great cook and Yukimura had enjoyed the conversation, which had been light and warm. Though he wondered about Genichirou, who had said only a few words, seeming tenser than he remembered Genichirou to be for ages.
It was good to see Genichirou again. It had been too long since the last time.
Yukimura studied his long-time friend while Sarah served them tea and dessert. The taller man's posture was rigid and his eyes appeared tired. He wondered if the endless frown on Genichirou's face was a result of some lovers' quarrel between his friend and the possessive girlfriend. But then again, the stoic man never had appeared to mind that much when they were having arguments.
Genichirou had been absent-minded and too blunt and silent for everything to be fine. Well, he just had to find out whatever was bothering his Genichirou. And he would, as soon as he could have the man to himself for a while.
"So, how was the ball last night?" Yukimura smiled at Sarah again and took a spoonful of the odd, sugary and fluffy desert to his mouth. He was really full already but didn't want to be impolite.
Genichirou snorted, hunching his shoulders with a dark expression on his face, eyeing the white foam on his plate rather suspiciously.
Sarah's smile was slightly strained but she answered bravely: "It was great. Genichirou obviously wasn't delighted but I enjoyed it. We met some of Genichirou's old friends, unfortunately they didn't had time to chat with us for too long."
Yukimura sent a questioning gaze at Genichirou, wondering what had rendered the man so grim.
"Atobe, Oshitari and Kikumaru." The silent man suddenly answered him in his usual straight to the point way Yukimura knew so well.
"Oh," he mumbled, knowing perfectly well that his lack of response would only have bothered Genichirou more.
This was interesting. He knew, of course, about the
tension between Atobe and his Genichirou. They had been like best
friends after all and even if Genichirou hadn't told him what had
happened at Junior Selection Camp and after their doubles match, he
wasn't blind. The air had been always pregnant with unsettled tension
when the two boys had been around each other. There had been times
when Yukimura had been madly jealous of his vice-captain.
"You
must know them too, right?" Sarah leaned to the counter without
sitting herself to the table. "I heard last night that you were
the team's captain."
"Yes." He softened his voice even more than usually so that his short answer wouldn't appear so offending. She shot him a curious glance but remained silent and for that, he was grateful. He didn't want to dwell on explaining his syndrome to her.
She rubbed her hands against her white jeans; that was one of the things why Yukimura liked her, she knew when to be casual; and glanced around her smiling sweetly. "I'm going to the movies now, so you boys can catch up. Don't wait up for me Genichirou. I'll be late." Laughing brightly, she leaned down to brush a quick kiss to Genichirou's cheek and then waved at Yukimura.
"It was nice to see you again Seiichi."
She was making his name sound so funny; he couldn't hold back the
warm laughter that rose from his throat. "I hope we see each
other again, soon." she chirped and was out of the door in a
moment.
"Thank you for the dinner. And it was nice to see
you too." He smiled at her when she breezed past him.
She was a sweet girl, intelligent and thoughtful when she wanted to be. Yukimura found that he liked her against all the expectations he had had. It was a pity that Genichirou didn't love her.
"You don't have to eat that." Genichirou snatched Yukimura's plate when they were alone and began to rise from his seat. His face betrayed no emotions, but Yukimura was certain that there was something he wasn't seeing, yet.
"How do you know I don't want to eat that?" He laughed softly at Genichirou's stunned expression, which vanished all too soon and was again replaced with that irritating, expressionless mask of his.
"I know," was the only enigmatic answer Yukimura got, and that didn't bother him. He wasn't going to eat the desert anyhow.
Sanada served them more tea and after a few sips, sighed silently. Yukimura followed his friend with a worried gaze as Genichirou got up and left the room. The taller man was so tense Yukimura thought he would snap if he even thought of touching him.
He knew that Genichirou wasn't happy with how things had gone in his life. His discontent had seeped trough from their phone calls and the brief e-mails the stoic man had sent to Yukimura. It wasn't surprising; he was a very honest man after all, and all the lying to himself must have been weighting on him.
Genichirou could be so stubborn, to the point of hurting himself and others around him. He was, of course, totally blind to his own thoughtlessness, but Yukimura could see it so clearly it made him dizzy, to be so close to somebody that he could taste the bitterness the other didn't sense himself.
It had
been like that always, as long as they had known each other, from the
first year in Junior High to this day. And he was sure Genichirou
knew him like the back of his hand. They had been inseparable, the
three of them, Sanada, Yukimura and Yanagi, but most of all he and
Genichirou. Renji had been more Sanada's friend, and that had been
all right. He had been content with having only Genichirou. It
sometimes had been more than enough.
When he had been
hospitalized, Genichirou had been there for him, visiting him,
bringing hope. It had been endlessly comforting, even if his own
stubborn nature wouldn't let him show any signs of weakness or fear,
Genichirou had known and just been there, telling him everyday
things, including him in a world that he felt he was separated from,
letting him feel like he still belonged to the team that was doing
great without him there.
Genichirou had let him feel like a part of himself. It had meant so much to him, to be that special to someone and it had been so easy to fall in love.
He had never told Genichirou about his feelings. It just wasn't something he would do. He had thought that the other would know, just like he knew everything else about him. He had begun to wonder when he had been well enough to participate in school again, when he had seen how much he had really lost in the year he had spend in bed surrounded by beeping machines.
Genichirou had been still his Genichirou but there had been so much more. He had felt like everything had changed over one night, like his bond with his vice-captain now included so many other people.
In the hospital, he had had Genichirou all to himself, there had been nobody to steal his attention away from him. Back in the school, there was suddenly a whole other life that wanted to separate him and his dearest friend, classes, club activities, family responsibilities, and other friends.
It had been the first year in Senior High and he wasn't able to make into the tennis team because of his weakened body and that meant he had seen Genichirou much less. He had, of course, always been at the tournaments, cheering and supporting.
And there he had first seen how Atobe looked at his Genichirou, and how he gazed back. It had been like a punch to the stomach, like a bad dream come true. His Genichirou was looking at another boy with lust and longing in his eyes. He had cried rivers that night and collected worried glances the whole next week with his red eyes and moody behaviour.
Genichirou had never graced him with one of the gazes he saved for Atobe alone, wanting, needing swirling in his bottomless eyes.
He couldn't have told the other boy about his feelings. It had been too much, it still was. But he hoped that the desire would burn itself away and Genichirou could be his. He didn't know why he had never felt like this about Sarah, but maybe it was because Genichirou had never shown the same kind of yearning towards the girl that he seemed to have stored towards Atobe all these years.
A year ago, when he had visited Genichirou at America, he had hoped that something would open his eyes soon, before he would get too deep inside this emotionless relationship of his, before he'd do something stupid and hurt everybody including himself. The man's stubbornness was something to fear for. He might decide that he had to stick with Sarah regardless of his own feelings if he had made some promises.
Yukimura had trusted Genichirou's common sense to wake up sooner or later, making the man see that he was trapped inside a cage of lies crafted by his own mind, but he was even more stubborn that Yukimura had thought.
Genichirou was obviously miserable.
Maybe it was time for him to push Genichirou a little.
"What are you thinking, Seiichi?" He almost dropped the handsome teacup he was just lifting to his lips. He had been so intently debating with himself that he hadn't noticed Genichirou's return. The expressionless man was leaning on the doorframe, holding a sake bottle in his hand.
"Nothing specific. Just thinking how much I have missed you. " He smiled sweetly, hoping the gentle warmth he felt would be showing in his eyes.
"Hn." Genichirou really knew how to amaze with his verbal brilliance. "Would you like some?"
"Sake? Why not."
Two hours later they were carelessly sprawled on Genichirou's bed, snuggled comfortably against each other's sides. Yukimura had lost his sweater jacket somewhere between the kitchen and bedroom and was now only in a tightly fitting, lavender t-shirt and his favourite pair of weathered brown corduroy pants, that were riding dangerously low on his hips. Genichirou's blue jeans were badly faded and the black t-shirt curled up from his stomach, showing too much of the toned abs for Yukimura's taste.
It was hard to look away.
Genichirou was fiddling with the remote control in his other hand while the other lay cosily on his eyes, blocking his view perfectly so that Yukimura could set his gaze on the other's bare skin as much as he liked.
"Ne, Genichirou," Yukimura drawled lazily. "Why are we watching old games from tape? Why aren't we playing at the moment? That's what we want to do, right?"
Genichirou chuckled softly and stole a glance at Yukimura from under his fingers. "Seiichi, it's late, and dark. And I'm lazy."
"What? You said you're what?" He pushed himself on his elbows, looking down at the taller man, mockingly horrified.
"The great Emperor Sanada Genichirou admitting that he's human?" Giggling lightly he poked Genichirou's ticklish side. He knew it was ticklish although the relaxed man didn't bother to respond.
"I Think, Genichirou, that you are as drunk as I am."
"That is what Sake is for, Seiichi." Genichirou's lips were curled to a tiny, content smile and he found himself chuckling gently. It was generally not common anymore to see the grave man smiling so genuinely.
He lay down beside Genichirou again and gazed at the ceiling with lightly fogged eyes. His left side felt warm and he barely resisted the urge to snuggle more tightly against the source of the warmth. They were just friends and it would look odd.
"Genichirou, do you trust me?" He asked, seriousness colouring his soft voice.
"Why do you ask?" Genichirou sounded sleepy but not offended.
"Do you trust me?" He demanded again.
"Of course, Seiichi. But why-"
"Then answer me truthfully, " he interrupted Genichirou's confused question.
"Why do you stay with her although you don't love her?" He could almost feel the sudden intake of breath and the painful tensing of Genichirou's body beside him.
"I didn't know you were such a heartless person that you would let her believe in something that isn't true." He felt horrible. This should have been just a nice evening between old friends; memories filled with laughter and childlike innocence, warmth of connection bubbling inside them and easy, soft words exchanged for forming their bond anew.
But he had to break Genichirou's trust like this, by bringing something painful out in the open and inspecting it.
"What are you talking about, Seiichi?" Genichirou's voice, edged with coldness, told him with ease that the stoic man was angry. Not like the raging, violent kind of anger that Genichirou could sometimes indulge in but the hurt and defensive kind, which was the worst. At least that was what Yukimura thought.
"Of course I love her. Why else would I live with her? I have the God damned engagement rings in my racquet bag!" Yukimura sighed softly and started to push himself up. This wasn't fair. Why it had to be him?
"What do you mean, Seiichi?" Genichirou's hard hand caged his wrist and the rigid man pulled him back on top of the bed, this time facing Genichirou's expressionless face and pinned down by the intense glare from the brown, too familiar eyes.
"I don't like being lied to." Yukimura whispered. He seemed to have lost his voice and all carefully constructed thoughts spread away, shattering like a fragile glass.
Genichirou stared at him silently, burning holes into his brave self-assurance with intent eyes that seemed to say too many words at the same time and Yukimura felt like hiding or crying. He wasn't sure anymore which was the more pressing urge.
"I know you, Genichirou." It was hard to speak and he wanted this to be over as fast as possible.
"You look at her like you look at me. Not with the desperate longing you look at Atobe Keigo."
He tucked his hand free from Genichirou's hold and pushed himself upwards too fast, throwing his vision into wild spinning. He felt hot tears filling his eyes and quickly made his way to the door. He wouldn't cry! Not here, not now.
"You're not stupid, Genichirou. I hope you find the truth soon, so less people will get hurt." He knew that with his shoulders hanging low and his arms circled around himself, he must have looked shamelessly pitiful.
He couldn't look back at the bed where Genichirou laid silently, so he just stood by the door, facing the empty, darkening hallway, head bowed down, long curly hair shadowing his sad features. Why was this so hard? He had known for long time that Genichirou didn't love him.
"I only want you to be happy. Not miserable like you're now."
TBC
