Ficlet Series (Tenipuri)

Tough Love

Yukimura was back. They had their Yukimura-buchou back, and everything was ecstasy and elation. Rikkai's morale couldn't have been higher going into the Nationals, especially when they won their first game with little to no effort.

Then it was over, back to practice to prepare for the next game, and they remembered for the first time in a long time why it was actually preferred when Sanada was left in charge of practices.

Marui collapsed as he skidded to a stop, stumbling onto the planate top before pushing himself off again. Even Kirihara, whose stamina was more or less unparalleled, was sweating and panting a little.

"Was he always..." Kirihara gasped out, the perpetual whine in his voice, "this strict?"

"Yes," Jackal replied, his cheeks red even through his dark skin. "We just forgot."

And then Yukimura's whistle was blowing.

"Again," he commanded, and all the regulars sprinted across the length of the tennis courts and back again.

Marui ran into the fence this time and kind of just splattered there, like a bug on a windshield, until Yagyuu pried him off.

"Two on one drills... hitting drills... conditioning drills... when can we go home?" Kirihara was almost screeching now, though he was still careful to keep his voice out of buchou hearing range.

"What did you say, Akaya?"

"Nothing, Yukimura-buchou!" Kirihara screamed.

Yanagi smiled at him, managing to look as nonchalant as ever even with sweat dripping down his face, and then the whistle went off again. "You'll thank him for this later on."

The next time Kirihara had only barely finished running back before Yukimura blew the whistle and called out 'again'. He shot a pleading look towards Sanada, whose normally impassive face softened for just a moment.

"Yukim-" Sanada started to call out, and Kirihara felt his hope blowing up in his chest like a balloon, before Yukimura's sharp and sudden glare cut off any entreaties Sanada was about to make. "... ... ... never mind."

But Kirihara's hopes weren't completely dashed, because there Niou was, sweaty and flushed and whispering something in Yukimura's ear. Yukimura frowned, then laughed at whatever Niou was saying.

"All right." He sighed, resigned, before calling out to the team. "Pair up for a round of ball suicides, then you can go home and get some rest."

Forty-three minutes later and Kirihara's whole body felt tender and raw. He attempted stretching his arms as he walked home with Sanada, hoping that maybe he could get some feeling into them other than 'sore', but figured it was probably useless and stopped.

"Mou, Yukimura-buchou's so much harsher than you are," Kirihara complained, "and we won, it's not like we need extra practice."

"If Yukimura says we need the extra practice, then we need extra practice."

Kirihara looked up and blinked at his fukubuchou, who looked as stoic as ever, though there was a little trace of fear in his eyes. Kirihara snickered. He knew that Yukimura hadn't said anything to Sanada about his loss at Kantou yet, and Sanada was just dreading the confrontation. Maybe, knowing Yukimura, the other boy was waiting to do it just to let Sanada sweat a little bit.

Kirihara tugged on Sanada's jacket sleeve, leaving his hand in the crook of Sanada's elbow. "Sanada-fukubuchou."

Sanada glanced down at him, seemingly annoyed, but Kirihara knew better. "What is it, Akaya?"

"Take me to the arcade?"

"I don't have any money."

Kirihara pouted. "So I guess you can't treat me to ice cream either."

Sanada didn't say anything, just kept walking, and Kirihara had to quicken his pace to keep up with Sanada's longer strides. When they got to Sanada's house Kirihara frowned and released his grip on Sanada's arm, shuffling his feet from side to side as he watched Sanada open the front gate. Sanada stopped and stood there for a moment, debating, before turning around to look back at Kirihara.

"I bought the new fighting game you wanted."

"Really?" Kirihara beamed up at his fukubuchou.

Sanada nodded. "If you're good and finish your homework, we can play it together."

Kirihara grinned and followed Sanada into the house.

Back at the club house, Yukimura was changing into his tennis outfit while Niou took off his shirt and started to wipe his sweat off with it.

"You know," Niou said, leaning back on the bench, "that would look a lot sexier on you if it was a skirt."

Yukimura smiled and raised an eyebrow. "I'll wear one if you wear one."

Niou cackled to himself and put his shirt back on, picking up his racket and rolling the handle between his fingers. For a moment, a worried expression crossed his features, before he shut it off with a small smile. Nah, he thought, everything would be fine. "You were kinda hard on us back there."

Yukimura blinked at him a few times, confused. "Was I? It's nothing any of you can't handle; I know your capabilities." Yukimura's expression softened even more then, gentle and dreaming, making him look not unlike Snow White conversing with forest animals. "I wish I could have trained with you guys."

"That's because you're crazy," Niou replied, grinning. "If you were training with us, you'd have kept going, and made us keep up."

"It's best to lead by example," Yukimura explained, picking up his own tennis racket.

Niou frowned as Yukimura took a few experimental swings. Yukimura's form was predictably perfect, but even Niou could see he was lacking the power he used to have. "Are you sure this is okay? The doctor says you can't start playing again for a week."

"Yeah." Yukimura didn't even look up, too intent on his swings. "It's just a light rally. What about you? Are you tired from the 'hard' training I put you through?"

"Nah." Niou grinned. "It's just a light rally, right?"

Yukimura stopped, and smiled at him. "In one week, I can play as much tennis as I want, and I'm going to play and train every second of every day. Then, when we get to the finals, I'll have Tezuka's head on a platter."

Niou laughed. "Assuming Seigaku makes it that far."

"Oh, they'll make it. Now, shall we go?"

Niou pushed himself off the bench and opened the door. "After you."

Yukimura made his way through the door, as graceful as ever, all dormant power in those lean muscles, and Niou thought, yeah, everything would be fine. He reached down, pinched Yukimura's retreating ass, and cackled as he closed the door to the club house.

If some one had been around, they would have heard a strangely dignified and not very surprised proclamation of 'oh!', then a voice say in a seductive, husky tone, "You're so naughty. I should give you a spanking."

And then, in a different but equally husky voice, "Is that a promise?"

.end.


~completely unrelated omake~

"It's a little tight," Kirihara mumbled, stretching out in an attempt to get comfortable in the silk and fishnet.

"That's what makes it feel good," Yukimura reprimanded, sliding long, black ears onto Kirihara's head. "Now, come here and give me a kiss."

Never one to disobey his buchou, Kirihara shyly slid forward on the bench and pressed his lips against Yukimura's.

There was the sound of a door opening, then promptly closing again.

Outside the clubhouse, Sanada rubbed at his eyes, but the image remained in his head... Yukimura and Akaya, both in black playboy bunny outfits, kissing. He willed his hard-on away. Unsexy thoughts, he told himself, and remembered the time he caught Yagyuu in a petticoat.

"Yo, Sanada, you seen Yuki-buchou?"

Sanada looked over to see Niou grinning at him. "He's indisposed at the moment. With Akaya."

"Oh?"

"They're... playing bunnies again."

"Ooooh." Suggestive tone, lecherous smile, and Niou was looking like the big, bag wolf. "Two cute, defenseless bunnies all on their own... I've gotta take advantage of this."

Niou disappeared into the club room, and moments later Sanada was listening jealously to the moans and giggles coming from inside of it. Why hadn't he thought of that?