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06 December 2007 @ 06:44 am
prince of tennis ][ yukimura: to paint a picture  
Title: to Paint a Picture
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: G
Genre: General
Characters: Yukimura. Kirihara, Sanada, Niou, Yagyuu, Renji
Words: 5 x 100 exactly <3
Summary: Five different points of view about Rikkai's buchou.

Disclaimer: The boys belong to Konomi-sensei. ♥



- - -

Kirihara Akaya – the Difference Between Us

Yukimura-buchou is seven centimetres taller than I am, and before he got sick we weighed exactly the same.

Marui-sempai was born eleven whole months before Yukimura-buchou, whose birthday is in March.

But buchou is only five-and-a-bit months older than me.

Sometimes I wanna ask who gave him permission to treat me like a kid, but—

Then he stands with us on the courts after practice (not out the front like Sanada-fukubuchou), and talks all quiet-like about Rikkai’s Law…

Everybody listens like it’s life and death.

And then I start thinking... maybe he earned it? instead.

Because I’m hearing every word.


- - -

Sanada Genichirou – Age of Reason

“Say… if you admit to being distracted thinking of me, we’ll call it even.”

Yukimura’s smile is sly, playful; I bristle, sitting straighter (our five-centimetre height difference is never enough), brow tugging into a frown as the old gears of Duty and Honour begin to turn.

This was my word in discussion; a man should be nothing more. The broken promise of a vice-captain, leader, friend

“Genichirou…”

My eyes flicker up and startle to find his own smiling – dancing – only two inches away.

A light finger flicks my cap.

“Don’t brood so much. You look too old as it is.”


- - -

Niou Masaharu – for the Love of the Game

Sanada’s a joke. Good for tennis, but not much else. He knows it too, when we get out of hand and he’s left bellowing up and down the courts.

Natch, he can’t handle us: he doesn’t get us.

Yukimura’s our captain because he’s a freak. Polite as Hiroshi in anything you wanna call, and sweeter than Marui’s sugar. Plus, he teases the teachers and never gets detention – but you can’t hate him.

It’d be nauseating… if he couldn’t kick our collective ass, too.

Forget about bitch-slaps for losing: when buchou’s smiling for ‘no reason’ –

That’s your cue to run screaming.


- - -

Yagyuu Hiroshi – Discernment

“Yagyuu-kun…?” Dark lashes bat across two eyes of royal blue as their owner poses a little before a full-length mirror. His voice is light; delicate but serious. “Does this uniform make my butt look fat?”

I close my novel to offer due scrutiny.

“…your hair and height are right; however, the contacts do not work. Your eyes are not buchou’s.”

“Goddamnit.”

My partner slingshots his white flannel headband across the room in exasperation. Turning, he collapses back onto the sofa beside me in his usual boneless slouch. “Happen to know someplace I can inject some love and passion for cheap?”


- - -

Yanagi Renji – Impossible is Nothing

Genichirou speaks as if it is carved in stone. And it is.

The Law of Rikkaidai Fuzoku is absolute.

But when Seiichi says “We must never lose,” the phrase transcends the literal interpretation: his blue gaze and steel conviction leave no doubt that it is not the wins or losses that matter; the chalked numbers mean nothing if not for the fight – the passion – of tennis itself.

He said this, once:
If you take tennis away from me, nothing remains; for I am tennis itself.

And yet… fanciful though it sounds, I still find no desire to consider it impossible.


- - -

end.





 
 
 
(Anonymous) on July 24th, 2012 09:18 pm (UTC)
Well, I must say that I liked it, really. It was a nice perception from them nwn