Pairing: Yagyuu x Oshitari
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Disclaimer: not mine, cool? cool.
So when I first looked at the
theme, my muse refused to come up with a plot outside of sheer crack
(think Disney on Ice crossed with Titanic). I was going to skip it,
then I started writing, and this came out. Exaggerated and altered from
a true life story, which probably makes it not as realistic somehow,
but it's what came out and I can't think of anything else .
Oh. S.H.E. is a real band, "Superstar" is a real song, and neither belong to me. XD
He did not like this, Oshitari decided. No, not one, tiny little bit. He was just meeting a fellow tennis player for a day out, so Iwhy/I couldn't he decide on something to wear? Everything he pulled out his closet suddenly seemed older and less sophisticated than it had the day before. The occasional articles that looked decent decidedly were not ice skating wear.
"To hell with it," he muttered, reaching back into his closet and blindly snatching out a shirt. He grabbed a pair of slacks and put them on, telling himself that was his outfit. Sure, the shirt was a birthday gift from his mom last year, but it was wearable, so whatever. Pocketing his wallet and keys, he headed for the rink.
He could see Yagyuu casually leaning against the wall, skates slung across his shoulders, as soon as he turned the corner. His watch only read ten till, so he wasn't late, though it was slightly embarrassing that he, the one who actually lived in Tokyo, would be the second to arrive. "Good afternoon, Oshitari-kun," Yagyuu smiled, pushing up his glasses, before Oshitari had the chance to say anything.
"Afternoon," he replied, coolly, just like he always was.
Yagyuu straightened and started to head inside the rink. "Do you need skate rental? Actually, have you skated before?"
The question was slightly obvious, Oshitari's mind muttered. He obviously wasn't carrying skates, and would be needing rental. "Yea, I've only skated twice before." By then, Yagyuu was already at the counter inside the rink and paying for two admissions and a rental. Wait. "Yagyuu-kun, I can –"
"It's all right. I called you out today, so it's only fitting. Don't make a scene." Yagyuu took the admission stickers from the cashier, who seemed to be smiling in approval at something. Oshitari blanched. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea – the rink was a public place, after all. "Come, what shoe size are you?"
Yagyuu got his skates for him, a pair slightly smaller than his shoes. "Skates tend to be a bit bigger," was the only explanation he gave. They sat down at a bench next to the actual rink, and Oshitari was glad he wore long sleeves. The air around the rink was pretty cold; the rink itself could only be colder. A minute later, he was cursing his apparently lack of coordination, as the laces got terribly tangled in his hands. Yagyuu chuckled next to him, his fingers threading through the tiny holes and flying over the hooks as if they were performing a practiced dance. "Hold on; let me finish and I'll help you. If you don't get them tight enough, your ankles will be aching in ten minutes."
It was decidedly awkward, Oshitari thought, when Yagyuu knelt down in front of him and proceeded to lace his skates. He was vaguely reminded of a child's fairy tale, where the prince was trying a shoe on the foot of every maiden in his kingdom to find his rightful bride, but he banished that thought with a quick blink. There was a group of middle school girls giggling and looking their way, and he wished Yagyuu would hurry up. It looked like there was no need for that, though, as Yagyuu straightened. "Are they too tight?"
Oshitari tried wiggling his foot. "Just a little."
"Good. They're supposed to feel a bit too tight. It's one of the mistakes most beginning skaters make, not tying the boots tight enough. Come on," Yagyuu seemed about to instinctively reach a hand out before stopping himself. It was different from dating Atobe – Yagyuu walked by his side, as though concerned for Oshitari's ability to hobble around on the thin blades. He didn't make it obvious though, rather, it just seemed as if he wanted to talk. "Have you roller bladed before?"
"When I was younger, I used to blade around the neighborhood a lot," Oshitari replied, smiling at the memory. "It was before I got into tennis."
"I see. I quit hockey when I got into tennis, also. That was a long time ago."
"I can't imagine you playing hockey." They were on the ice now, and Oshitari was grabbing at the wall for dear life. The ice was a lot slipperier than he had expected. Yagyuu, however, had quite comfortably pushed right off the wall and spun to a stop, backwards, right in front of him.
"A lot of people say that. I didn't only play hockey though – these are my figure skates, actually. Stand up straight."
Oshitari did as ordered, mouth pulling into a smirk. "Are you going to teach me to skate then, sensei?"
"Well, it'd be rather boring if you just clung to the wall the whole time," Yagyuu retorted.
Half an hour later, Oshitari plopped down rather ungracefully onto the bench where they'd put on their skates. Yagyuu silently handed him a cup of steaming coffee, which he took with murmured "Thanks."
"How did you start in tennis?" Yagyuu asked him. He took a sip of the hot liquid, enjoying the feeling of warmth seeping down his throat and spreading throughout his body.
"Atobe made me, actually. We've lived near each other all our lives, and he decided one day that he wanted to play tennis." He smiled fondly at the memory, when Atobe demanded he join the Hyoutei tennis club with him.
"I see. You two used to date, didn't you?"
That had been the one topic he didn't want to touch on today. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, blue eyes staring into the comforting brown liquid. "Yes, but can we not talk about that?" He chanced a peek at the boy sitting next to him. Yagyuu was looking at him, rather intently.
"Sure," was his only reply. There was a pause in their conversation, and Oshitari almost forgot how to move. He swallowed, and the moment broke.
"So, why'd you quit skating?" he asked, sitting up straight again and taking another sip.
Yagyuu shrugged, and looked out at the rink. He looked rather picturesque like that, Oshitari thought, arms extended to hold a folded knee close, head held high, looking out at the people skating happily, obviously thinking about times past. "Various reasons."
"Show me." The words were whispered; Oshitari hadn't even realized he'd said them until Yagyuu turned to look at him. Yagyuu stood up and walked over to the jukebox like thing that played songs over the rink's speakers. He seemed to be looking for a particular song, after which he slipped some coins into the machine. He looked at Oshitari, as if to say "watch carefully," then headed towards to the center of the rink. The music started, and with it, Yagyuu.
Oshitari quickly recognized the song – it was a popular Chinese girl band, S.H.E. or something. The song was one of his sister's favorites, "Superstar" or something. The music was fervent, not quite sensual, but full of desire and a sort of yearning. Yagyuu's moves on the ice, Oshitari decided, did not match the music. They were smooth and he was good, but they didn't match. There was a coldness in him that just clashed with the song – were he to color-code them, he'd say the music was a burning crimson, Yagyuu an ice blue tinged white.
That didn't mean he wasn't captivated by Yagyuu's movements, though. It was as if no one else existed – indeed, everyone else moved away to let Yagyuu perform unimpeded, watching the skilled boy dancing through his steps like he'd been born skating. Twice – once after nailing a jump and once while doing a sequence of dance steps around the edge where Oshitari was seated – their eyes met, and if Oshitari were prone to blushing, he knew he definitely would have. As things stood, he was just very glad he had dark skin to mask the heated flush he felt rising in his neck.
Oshitari finally realized the true meaning behind Yagyuu's being called Rikkai's gentleman. It wasn't just the politeness or the sportsmanship the boy exhibited. Yagyuu had a grace – no, elegance – about him that reminded him of England and France's eighteenth century noblemen.
"Wow," Oshitari breathed when Yagyuu had finished and was standing in front of him. "That was beautiful."
"It wasn't enough," Yagyuu replied. "It wasn't enough for my coach, for me, for the judges." Unsure what he could say, Oshitari just sat quietly. "But that doesn't matter. Come, are you ready to try again?"
"Yea, I think so," he replied, standing and throwing away his empty cup.
He walked Yagyuu to the train station and waited with him for the train to come. This too, was new. Atobe usually just dropped him off with a see you tomorrow. "I enjoyed today," he murmured quietly, leaning against an advertisement for lipstick, with a picture of a beautiful woman, lips puckered as if in a kiss. Yagyuu stood in front of him, close enough that whispers were enough.
"Me too," Yagyuu said.
"You're playing Atobe next week."
"Yea. Whom will you cheer for?" It was a question with no strings attached, and they both knew it. Atobe was his teammate – he was required, in a way, to always root for Atobe.
"I think, I'm not going to cheer for either," he said, just as the train pulled in. "See you then."
Yagyuu seemed to think for a brief moment before saying, "Yea, see you." He turned and got on the train. Oshitari wasn't sure why his heart skipped a beat, nor why he felt kind of disappointed. The sun was setting behind the train, and the lights in the advertisement behind him flickered before lighting brightly on the dimmed platform.