A Prince of Tennis fanfic.
SanaYuki pairing.

Rating: T - suggestive sexual behaviour

Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi.

Author's note: YAY! The 4th chapter... I actually finished this last week, but my beta-reader glares was so slow... can't blame her though, we had A LOT due...

Once again, I suggest you read this in 3/4 or 1/2. This feature centers the text so its not spread out across the page... Look at the top of the fanfic and to the right hand side. There should be stuff like AAA and then 1/2 and 3/4... something like that. Press on them!!

And... reviews please

Chapter.4 – Salvation of the Beloved

Yukimura sat silently, slouched with his arms supporting himself on his knees. He felt as if he could no longer bear the misery, and although tennis was his passion and life, it seemed impossible for him now. "Ne," he whispered wistfully, "maybe I should quit tennis."

Almost before he finished his sentence, he regretted it, realising that he would most probably be answered with a reprimand or long lecture. But instead, a strong pair of arms encircled him and Yukimura found himself in Sanada's embrace. Yukimura could not believe what was happening, especially since this was one of the last replies Yukimura would have expected. "Seiichi," Sanada was muttering, his warm breath tingling Yukimura's ear, "please don't quit."

Yukimura remained motionless; he did not have a reply for this. His fukubuchou was a passionate person and a man of action, but this form of passion and action was not in Yukimura's calculations at all. He thought he knew Sanada, the person he could always read like a book when they both stood on the courts, facing each other. But he was wrong.

"Sanada," Yukimura protested, trying to wriggle out of the iron-like ring around him, "I…"

"Don't quit," Sanada leaned in until he was only an inch from Yukimura's face, "promise me. Please."

Yukimura did not speak, turning his gaze from Sanada's.

"Don't be a weakling. The Yukimura Seiichi I know isn't like this," Sanada's face was flushing red, from impatience and slight anger, "why are you quitting? I lost against Echizen as well, and it was equally humiliating for me." Sanada's voice rose, "I was upset as well. On one hand, my reputation was ruined and on the other hand, the moment I visited you to tell you about this, you screamed at me. Everything that went wrong was accused at me. I stuffed up, I know, but everyone and everything just thrust the dagger deeper into the wound. Do you know how that feels? I knew perfectly well that it was my fault. But everyone just thought I was stupid or something and didn't understand! No one understood. Not ever you, Seiichi!"

Yukimura lowered his head, waiting for Sanada to finish his explosion of suppressed thoughts. "Genichirou," his mouth felt dry as he struggled for words, "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to. I'm sorry…"

"No. I'm sorry for shouting. "Sanada closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself.

"But you know, it was my first match since last winter and I was so eager to demonstrate my skills. I wanted to show everyone that I could still win even after the long period of hospitalisation. Everyone was beginning to doubt me, doubt my abilities – I simply wanted to demonstrate my level of play. But of course, it was just wishful thinking. In the end, I couldn't win and prove my point," Yukimura paused, "Genichirou, did you ever want to take the place of buchou when I was away?"

Sanada let go of Yukimura at that and glared at Yukimura disbelievingly. "Yukimura," he said seriously, "if I wanted to takeover, I would have had hundreds of chances to do that. I remained fukubuchou even though I could have become buchou easily. Of course, you could beat me to a pulp in seconds, but I had a lot of chances to become Rikkai's buchou if I wanted to."

Yukimura raised his eyebrows; he knew about the doubt of his ability, but had never questioned the loyalty of his fukubuchou. "So, when did these chances happen?" Yukimura asked, displeasure lurking below his seemingly casual tone.

"When we entered our third year of junior high," Sanada answered honestly, "and as custom, everyone had to enter the ranking tournament for the position of buchou and fukubuchou."

"So?"

"Well, since I came first in the tournament, obviously, I was to become buchou. But, I refused, taking the position of fukubuchou."

"Wouldn't someone else be buchou then?"

Sanada shook his head. "I challenged everyone who wanted to take the position of buchou."

Yukimura smiled bitterly. "Why, Sanada, why? I don't deserve to be buchou and I don't deserve your loyalty." He paused and took a deep breath in an attempt to control himself, but his emotions raged out of control. "The one who should be buchou is you. Why didn't you? WHY DIDN'T YOU, BAKA?"

"Because you're stronger."

"You're an idiot! Why are you always like this, always so loyal to me, always so willing to follow me?" Yukimura began what seemed to be the beginning of a never-ending list of questions, demanding the reason behind Sanada's loyalty.

But a butterfly kiss fluttered across his lips softly and stopped his words. Yukimura could feel Sanada's toned muscles and warmth underneath his shirt as his fukubuchou held him close in a cuddle, and the fury he had wanted to express died down to a flicker.

In the warm embrace, Yukimura could feel his misery being washed away. The suppressed depression he suffered from since the day of his hospitalisation was sucked out of him, slowly but steadily, as they lips joined, kissing each other tenderly. Yukimura leaned forwards and pushed Sanada towards the wall, deepening the kiss. He did not want this to stop, for he feared the return of crushing emotions. He pressed for more, rushing to rid his melancholy, but Sanada pushed him away.

"Sei… Yukimura-buchou," Sanada addressed him formally, much to the distaste and surprise of Yukimura, "we should stop it here."

"Sanada-fukubuchou," Yukimura replied icily, hiding his disappointment, "if I recalled correctly, it was you who started this."

"I feel… that you are using me, Seiichi." Sanada's tone softened.

"I… maybe you're right…" Yukimura hung his head in shame. "But Sanada… are you using me as well? I just… can't seem to read you anymore."

"No, I'm not."

"Then are you just trying to cheer me up?"

"Not really," Sanada looked away from Yukimura, "I did it because of selfish reasons."

"Tell me."

Sanada's face flushed red as he murmured, "it was as if all of a sudden, I just wanted to… touch you."

Yukimura smiled and cupped Sanada's face in his hands. "You have no idea how painful it is to watch you all the time, restraining the aching longing in my heart." He leaned in and caressed the nape of Sanada's neck with his soft lips, moving up slowly towards the other's mouth. Impatiently, he wetted Sanada's lips for him as he ran his hand through his fukubuchou's hair, consumed by passion. Sanada did not refuse the advances, submitting to his buchou obediently; beginning to enjoy Yukimura's fleeting touches. He could feel his body getting hotter, excited as he would be on the tennis courts.

Their bodies entwined, lips locked firmly as their chests pressed against each other's. Passion engulfed them, but when they were lying on the bed with sweat drenching their foreheads, rational subconsciousness brought them to a halt. Sanada sat a few inches from Yukimura, catching his breath, and picked up his shirt from the ground. His captain beside him ran his hand through his hair and dried it with the towel lying on the bed. He pulled his shirt on and retied the knot of his tracksuit pants. Sanada threw his head back, closing his eyes as he did so, drenched in disbelieve in their actions and the pleasure he gained from it. He bit his lips as his body longed for more.

He could tell Yukimura was trying his hardest to control his lust as well. Both boys sat silently, panting, letting their bodies recover from exhaustion. Sanada could feel the desire building up inside him, and it was unbearable, no better than the explosive anger injected into him by defeat. "Sanada." Yukimura was treading on thin ice, his self-control fading away.

Sanada looked at the beautiful, wavy-haired boy sitting beside him. Both of them knew it was wrong, yet the burning desire inside them could not be extinguished. "Ne, let's play tennis." Yukimura finally said, knowing that this was the only way to release them from their aroused state.

They ended up on a street tennis court. After getting rid of everyone in love matches, the two Rikkai leaders stood face to face, gripping onto their racquets tightly. Yukimura served. The ball slammed down the sideline, the speed to inhuman for Sanada's naked eyes to catch it. He served again. This time, Sanada was prepared and returned it cross-court, where Yukimura was expecting him. With a swift backhand, the ball was driven down the line - thirty-love for Yukimura. The game went by quickly and at the blink of an eye, Yukimura had broken Sanada's game as well.

"Sanada," Yukimura hissed, "are you going to play me seriously or what?"

"I am serious." Sanada replied, slightly irritated.

"No, you're not." The serve scrapped past Sanada's face, leaving an angry red mark. "Why aren't you using FuuRinKaInZanRai?"

Sanada, in truth, tried to use Fuu, but Yukimura just punched it back with accuracy and power, taking the point just as quickly as he could say Fuu. Yukimura served and the ball swept across Sanada's hair, as gentle as a lover's caress, but the fierce noise of the air being sliced away made Sanada glad that it missed his head. The seemingly light serve, could have easily gave him concussion for the week, disabling him or giving him brain damage.

On the other side of the court, Yukimura was getting increasingly frustrated. He had taken four games consecutively and when Sanada missed an easy volley, Yukimura made sure his next serve belted straight for Sanada's stomach. His fukubuchou collapsed in pain, clutching his shirt tightly, and then he stood up, gripping his racquet so firmly that his fingers were numb. Sanada glared at Yukimura, bent his knees and prepared to receive. At that moment, something in Sanada's eyes changed. There was something brilliant and divine gleamed in the dark brown orbs. Slowly, the golden radiance spread, outlining his silhouette, until blinding rays of light lit up the night sky. It was the "Pinnacle of Perfection" - the ultimate level in tennis.

Yukimura stared into the unusual shimmer in Sanada's eyes and served, wondering how he could achieve that state without walking via the stepping stones of "Pinnacle of Hard Work" and "Pinnacle of Wisdom" first. The tiny yellow ball came back from Sanada's side of the court and Yukimura moved into position quickly, his racquet already in place to return. The ball, however, felt more like an iron one and knocked Yukimura's racquet away, leaving him stumped on the ground, shocked and awed. But the feeling of admiration turned into jealousy quickly and flashbacks of his match against Echizen rewound at the speed of light in his mind, resentment and fear rushing through his blood.

Everything in his mind was blank. All that existed in Sanada's world was the yellow ball Yukimura was holding onto. He finally understood the Pinnacle of Perfection, remembering the momentary lightning that struck his mind when he had let go of all thoughts of victory, loss or worries. The ball that thwacked his stomach painfully triggered the most important step for the accomplishment of the Pinnacle of Perfection: To let go of everything, and to return the ball - that was the basis of tennis and the last step towards the Pinnacle of Perfection. As Sanada smashed the ball, winning the match, he comprehended the reason as to why Yukimura was having such troubles in taking the last step.

His buchou was gazing at him, with appreciation, respect and covetousness. Sanada sighed. Yukimura's perfect tennis was precisely his downfall. He was too close to the Pinnacle of Perfection. His tennis was already god-like and the lack of distance and room for the leap marked his downfall. His flawless tennis prevented him, pulled him back from the peak. Sanada knew that if Yukimura wanted to attain the state of perfection, he would have to let go of his thoughts and emotions.

"Sanada," Yukimura shook Sanada's hand, "congratulations."

Sanada muttered his thanks, but Yukimura continued. "This is the first time you've beaten me, right? I'm glad you've achieved that level, although I must admit I feel quite envious."

"Yukimura..." Sanada was at a loss for words. He was amazed and euphoric that he had reached the pinnacle, but on the other hand, any action suggesting his ecstasy would be dangerous, considering Yukimura's fragile emotional state at the present.

"Sanada, don't worry." Yukimura bluntly cut his fukubuchou off, seemingly reading Sanada's thoughts. "I will achieve the Pinnacle of Perfection soon as well, and with our abilities, we will climb onto the apex, reclaim our throne as the Rikkai kings."

Please review. The epilogue is coming VERY SOON!!