Archive of Our Own

“And, that’s the end of the lesson! It’s playtime now! You can go outside, but first go and report to Yanagi-sensei’s classroom. If you want to stay in here with me, please put your hand up!” said Yukimura cheerfully, clapping his hands together, as he wiped his little whiteboard clean of his basic hiragana letters.

Most of the children placed their hands up. He knew that they loved the outside, but they also loved him more. He knew he was the most popular teacher in the school, and that was perhaps because he was willing to treat them as people and not just midgets or pets.

He sometimes thought about telling other people about this ‘secret’, but Yukimura liked his status of everybody’s favourite teacher. It made him feel a little better about not having a life outside of his work, and the smiles from the children were something that Yukimura would never pass up.

“Sensei, sensei, are we painting today?” clamoured little Gakuto-kun, his eyes big and round.

“Yeah, can we paint? Pwetty please?” begged Bunta-kun, swinging side to side with his hands clasped together, in the adorable way that Yukimura couldn’t resist.

The girls and boys that were staying in, all started making their most adorable faces, and Yukimura sighed. He just couldn’t resist them in droves. Besides, he’d been wanting to work on his painting. He could deal with cleaning up the mess later. At least he wasn’t wearing the nice cardigan today.

“Alright, alright.” he said, with a small chuckle. “Everyone grab your easels and your aprons.” he said, before any children started making their way to the paint-tray. There were small giggles as everyone made their way over to the paint and clay-stained aprons.
One day, Yukimura was going to take them all home and tackle the indomitable task of cleaning all of the aprons up. That day was not today.

“Okay, then. Today’s theme is summer, since tomorrow is the first day of summer!” said Yukimura, with a grin.

Everyone grinned and started excitedly chattering, as Yukimura pulled his own canvas down from the top of the cupboard. Most of the kids used paper that could deal with being covered in poster paint, but Yukimura was working on his impressionist piece of the view of their beautiful garden, and that required a delicate touch of watercolour. It was a little risky to be working on it here, when the kids were around. But, as much as they all adored him, they also knew that if they ever touched sensei’s artwork, they would in a lot of trouble.

Yukimura hummed softly, as he turned on the radio and let some bright pop song stream through old speakers of their classroom. He surveyed his realm with a slight air of amusement as he mixed some paint together. His walls were covered in student artworks from last week’s dabble into making leaves from their hands and the attempts at writing their names. He would have to take some of them down if he wanted to put their newest works up and display those. As much as it pained him to do it, the hand-leaves would have to go.

As he finished the first coat of paint over the light of the glimmering ivy leaves, he decided that ten minutes was probably a good stopping point to go and check on everybody and ask how they were doing. Unsurprisingly, almost everybody was covered in paint as they tried their hardest to make masterpieces of their paper. Yukimura grabbed a towel from his desk and decided to go talk to the students who were covered in the most paint in an attempt to clean them up a little more.

“So, is this a pirate ship or a setting sunset?” asked Yukimura, as he started to clean up Choutarou-kun, who fancied himself a very good artist. Yukimura was sure he would be a great artist in a few years, but currently, his work was just a little difficult to recognize.

“It’s a tree!” he said, cheerfully, almost catching Yukimura’s nose with his brown paint. Yukimura pulled the paint brush away from Choutarou-kun’s hand and continued dabbing at him with the towel, throwing him a slightly stern look. “And there’s Ryou-kun and me on the tree!” he said, with a wide, bright grin, as he pointed at the white blob and another brown blob that was pretty indistinguishable from the rest of the tree.

“So it is.” said Yukimura, solemnly, as he gave up on Choutarou-kun’s clothes and started to work on the boy’s skin instead. “You need more green, Choutarou-kun. Since it’s summer, the tree will have lots of leaves.”

“Okay, Yukimura-sensei!” called Choutarou-kun, his wide eyes shining. “I’ll make it the best tree ever! With all the leaves and flowers and fruits in the world!”

Yukimura smiled fondly and ruffled Choutarou-kun’s hair as he got up again. Cleaning skin was easier than clothes, it seemed. “I look forward to it. Work hard now, okay?”

Ryou-kun’s easel was next. It was a mess of reds and oranges and yellows. Really, it looked a bit like some of the works from that modern art exhibit that Yukimura had gone to see a couple of weeks ago. He wondered whether he could get away with hanging up all of his kids’ artwork in a museum and calling it modern art. He was sure that someone would buy it and stand around nodding, pretending to understand even an iota of the creativity behind it.

“So, this is a bonfire, right?” said Yukimura, as he scrubbed at Ryou-kun’s knees. “The Obon bonfire?”

Ryou-kun’s usually sullen face lit up a little. “You recognized it, sensei?” he asked, with a slightly incredulous voice as he attempted to not fidget out of obedience.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Yukimura said, kindly. It really wasn’t, but Yukimura had been teaching elementary school students for six years now and he’d be damned if he couldn’t notice some similar themes.

“Yeah! This is the one in Sapporo! It’s reallllllyyyyy cool.” said Ryou-kun, with a rakish grin. Yukimura didn’t miss the interest in Choutarou-kun’s head as he turned around to listen. The two were close friends, and it was entirely adorable to see Choutarou-kun following Ryou-kun around like a little puppy, while Ryou-kun lapped up the attention.

“Is it really, Ryou-kun?’ asked Choutarou-kun, with a curious grin.

“It’s amaaaaazing.” said Ryou-kun and Yukimura drifted away as the two friends started animatedly talking, and began switching out towels. Gracious, the children did get dirty, aprons or not. Maybe soon, he would start having to get them art ponchos.

Jackal-kun’s masterpiece was a lot better than Yukimura had been expecting, with the unsightly mess of paint that engulfed Jackal-kun’s arms. It was recognizable as a sun and a nice garden. There was a stick figure person kicking a football. “Is this is you?” asked Yukimura, to his exchange student, as he rubbed against the boy’s skin. Maybe there was something in the Brazilian water that made them better artists. Or maybe Jackal-kun just had more patience than most of his students, which was hardly implausible.

“It’s me from when I was back in Brazil,” said Jackal, in his slightly accented Japanese. Interestingly, he still managed to speak with more clarity than Jirou-kun. “It’s always summer in Brazil.”

Yukimura laughed, softly. “I bet it is. You should tell me more about it later.” He had wanted to ask Jackal-kun when he had first arrived, but he had been painfully shy two months ago. Were it not for Bunta-kun’s enthusiasm, he may have never been able to be drawn out of his isolating shell.

“I will, sensei!” said Jackal-kun, with a wide smile.

Yukimura smiled sweetly and kept prowling through the classroom, ready to pounce on the the next person he saw with more paint than skin. There weren’t many; most people were talking and managing to avoid slapping paint on themselves, though the same could not be said for the classroom. It was a relief that the custodians came in after hours and cleaned up the floor. He’d have to do immediate damage control once the vast majority of students had left, but they’d deal with the rest. Of all things, why had he chosen paint?

After cleaning up the majority of them, Yukimura leaned back against the sink counter with a soft smile as he watched all his students. Gakuto-kun and Yuushi-kun were attempting to paint a picture of the sleeping Jirou-kun (which was better than the time they tried to use Jirou-kun as a canvas). Jackal-kun, Bunta-kun, and Akaya-kun were all giggling as they did something to Bunta-kun’s disaster of an easel and the others were enjoying themselves. All the while, a ray of bright summer sun trickled through the student decorated window.

A genuine smile popped up onto Yukimura’s face, a replacement for its generic counterpart that resided there for a good portion of the day. It was a small little snapshot of where Yukimura was happiest. If he could capture it in a painting, he would. Unfortunately, he was fairly certain that even he wasn’t talented enough to do so. There was too much life, too much vibrancy to be truly captured and placed down on an easel.

Then his eyes caught the time and he almost swore. He didn’t, of course, because curious clamouring voices going ‘what does that mean?’ and ‘I’m going to use it on my brother/sister/pet’ were really not the sort of things that Yukimura wanted to deal with.

“Okay class, we’re going to have to clean up quickly today, okay? If you all want to get home at a normal time on a Friday afternoon, everyone wash up fast. No dawdling, everyone’s helping. Someone’s doing brushes, someone’s doing water pots, someone’s dealing with aprons, someone’s cleaning the surfaces and everybody’s washing their hands and faces, okay?” said Yukimura, quickly walking around, helping children undo the knots on the back of their aprons.

Thank god for efficient children. Eishirou-kun and Kippei-kun were lifesavers when it came down to it, with their quick and simple way of getting everyone flurried into action. Watching them push everyone into action was nice and relaxing for Yukimura, who perched on the end of his desk. And the classroom wasn’t too much of a mess at the end, which was a refreshing feeling.

Yukimura clapped loudly and grinned widely at all of them. “Well done, class. That was nice and timely. If we do that all of the time, I might make a special mention of how awesome you all are during assembly.”

There was a bit of excited chattering, and as the end-of-school bell rang, everyone smiled and chorused their thanks to Yukimura-sensei. “Go on, go home! Don’t forget your folders and workbooks so you can practise your numbers at home!!” he said, as he walked around making sure that mostly everyone was going to their small, child-desks to remove their stuff.

As the parents started coming a little closer to the doors and lifting up their kids, Yanagi walked back inside Yukimura’s classroom with a placid smile on his face. “Seiichi, don’t forget, you’re on afterschool duty for this month.”

Yukimura smiled. “Don’t worry, I’d hardly forget, Renji.” he said, as he started tucking in the chairs that the children hadn’t.

“You’re sure it’s alright?” asked Yanagi, tilting his head sideways.

With a rueful smile, Yukimura rolled up his sleeves and pulled out some paper-towels to mop up the water on the sink and around it. “Since I broke up with Shiraishi, there’s really no reason for me to ever need to go home. I could probably sleep at school if I had to.”

It had been a mutual split with no hard feelings between them, since both Yukimura and Shiraishi decided they were too similar and too high-maintenance to ever be able to coexist. Still, it made Yukimura feel just a little bit irritated that without Shiraishi, his life was only his job.

“Please don’t.” said Yanagi, with a slightly amused smile. “You’d scare the custodians.”

“You would know.” said Yukimura dryly, before frowning and demanding: “What are you standing here and chatting with me for? Haven’t you got a date with tall, pale, and nerdy in half an hour?”

“I do.” said Yanagi, clearly suppressing laughter. “And he has a name, you know.”

“I know he does, he’s New-Doubles-Partner-kun.” said Yukimura, with a light smirk. “Or Glasses-kun. Or Green-Notebook-kun.”

Yanagi let out a slight chuckle. “Don’t tease, Seiichi.”

“Oh, but Renji, that’s like asking the world to stop spinning.” retorted Yukimura with a smirk. “Go on! Go take a shower! You don’t want to show up to your date with your work clothes. And call me about how it goes, okay?” he said with a pointed look.

Yanagi laughed and made a vague motion of agreement as he drifted towards the door.

Yukimura turned back to his room to look at the afterschoolers. There weren’t as many as he’d expected. Masaharu-kun and Hiroshi-kun from Grade 3, the serious looking Gin-kun from Grade 5, then Akaya-kun and Sakuno-chan from his own class.

“Alright, what do you all want to do?’ asked Yukimura, with a wide smile, as he tied back his hair, momentarily. He had clean-up to do, and his hair would just get in the way.

“Movie!” chorused most of them. However, Gin-kun was silent, and Sakuno-chan just sat chewing on the end of her braid.

That was easy enough to do, but it did mean that he was giving Masaharu-kun and Hiroshi-kun time to plot in his classroom, which meant that he couldn’t claim plausible deniability. Yukimura frowned a little, but sighed. It wasn’t like the two were allowed to plot anywhere else, and their antics were funny and fairly harmless.

“Hmm. If anyone asks, we played games, okay?” said Yukimura, sternly. Sakuno-chan and Gin-kun both gave him alarmed looks but Masaharu-kun and Hiroshi-kun both looked entirely too smug. Akaya-kun just laughed and nodded, eagerly, his black curls bouncing happily as he nodded earnestly.

Yukimura turned on Brother Bear and started the arduous process of cleaning up the classroom as the children either focused on the movie, as evidenced by the lack of chewing by Sakuno-chan and Akaya-kun’s widened eyes, or just spaced out, as Gin-kun was doing. Or they plotted quietly, in the case of his Trouble Duo. Yukimura was pleased to note that the two had already managed the art of keeping silent and changing the topic when he got too close.

Maybe he was acting a little too much like an enabler here, but Yukimura had never been much good at following rules to a T. They weren’t hurting anyone, and the moment they did, Yukimura would have very serious words for them, which would mean a lot more than serious words from anybody else.

He mopped up the paint quickly so it wouldn’t prove too much of a hassle for the custodians and started organizing the books on their bookshelf to be back in alphabetical order. It involved some moving around of energetic children, but all of the students just laughed when Yukimura played airplane with Akaya-kun’s chair and pushed him around the classroom, making a god awful squeaking noise against the floor. It wasn’t like Akaya-kun cared, with that happy laugh and toss of his black curls. It had been a long time since Yukimura had possessed the time to just sort out everything in a relaxed manner, while still singing along to all of the Brother Bear songs with an eager Akaya-kun.

Time passed quickly, and the children were picked up in quick succession. At 4:30pm, Yukimura was left with Akaya-kun as the movie wrapped up. He paused in the process of organizing the class materials as Sakuno-chan’s grandmother quickly picked up the girl and left. He got up from his chair and went to crouch down in front of Akaya-kun’s beanbag.

“Do you know when your parent is coming to pick you up, Akaya-kun?” asked Yukimura, with a small smile.

“Nope.” said Akaya-kun, with a toothy grin. “Daddy’s always late from work.”

Always. Yanagi usually ended up being on classroom duty. Did he stay here with Akaya-kun everyday? No wonder he always seemed to know everything about the parents during the staffroom gossip. He was first-hand witness to all of the after-school events, if he was here until an unspecified time every night.

“Well then, I have a whole lot of time with your delightful company, Akaya-kun.” said Yukimura with a warm grin. “What are you going to do with it all?”

“Tell me a story, sensei!” demanded Akaya-kun, clambering up from his beanbag and sticking his arms up like he wanted to be carried. Yukimura ignored the carrying motion, since that was probably not behaviour encouraged in teachers, and went to their bookshelf to pull out his version of the Petit Prince before flopping down onto a small pile of beanbags.

“What’s the magic word, Akaya?” asked Yukimura, with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Pleeeeeeeeaaasssee??” said Akaya, batting his eyelashes and rounding his cheeks.

Yukimura gave an approving smile and tapped next to him. “I shouldn’t need to tell you, Akaya-kun. If you forget again, I’ll have to poke you until you do.” threatened Yukimura, with all the seriousness he could muster at such a stupid threat.

Akaya-kun grinned widely, and before Yukimura knew it, he’d clambered into Yukimura’s lap, looking contrite and perfectly innocent. “What’s it called, sensei?” he asked, clasping his tiny hands together.

“Le Petit Prince.” said Yukimura with a grin. Akaya-kun’s need for affection was very endearing. “Or the Little Prince, in Japanese.”

Akaya-kun tugged at Yukimura’s clothes, looking very amazed. “You speak French, sensei?” he asked. “That’s so cool!”

“Would you like to learn some words, Akaya-kun?” asked Yukimura, softly. Teaching came easier than almost anything else, and it was a good way to get people to behave, especially when it was something they were actually interested in learning.

Akaya-kun instantly brightened and straightened up, his curls bouncing. “Yes please, sensei! Marui-kun will think it’s really cool!”

“It’s difficult.” warned Yukimura, as he let the book settle in his lap. Somehow, he had a feeling that his renditions of the rose and the little prince and the fox would have to remain dormant until another day.

As expected, this didn’t faze Akaya-kun. If anything, he sat up straighter and the look of sheer determination on his small, chubby face increased. “I’m going to be best at French, sensei! Just you watch! I’ll show everybody!” he declared, all cocky confidence and brash stubbornness.

When asked, Yukimura would always say that every student he had ever taught was his favourite student. Still, if a close friend asked him (and wouldn’t tell administration), he’d pick Akaya-kun. The boy was always willing to try hard in every activity they did. While he wasn’t the most well-behaved child, he was honest, mostly obedient, and had a spark of determination that would lead him to success later in life. Yukimura felt very proud of him.

“Bonjour.” pronounced Yukimura, slowly and smiled a little at Akaya-kun’s awful attempt to pronounce it. It would get tiring quickly, since Japanese and French were so drastically different, but for now, Yukimura was still amused.

“What does it mean?” asked Akaya-kun, after four disastrous attempts to master it.

“Hello.” said Yukimura, dryly.

“Oooh.” says Akaya-kun, pulling out the word, as his eyes went wider and he tugged a little harder on the end of Yukimura’s cardigan. Then he tried again, with a vast improvement. Yukimura frowned a little.

“Try this. Ça va. It means, ‘How are you?” he instructed. Akaya-kun repeated it, easily and quickly. Yukimura smirked just a little. Perhaps not as tedious as he’d expected. He was able to parrot them back at Yukimura, with a smug grin.

After an hour, Akaya-kun was able to introduce himself and tell the world that he liked birds, since Akaya-kun had taken to repeating the word ‘oiseau’ over and over again with incrementing interest at this unfamiliar tongue. He was able to say that the weather was nice and the weather was bad and that he hated vegetables, though Yukimura had reprimanded him for it.

It was impressive progress for a four year old, and Yukimura was duly impressed. He’d always heard that children picked up languages quickly. The test was, of course, if Akaya-kun would remember this later.

“I’m going to grab a coffee, okay?” said Yukimura, slipping away from the beanbag pile. “I’ll be right back. Don’t get into trouble, okay?”

Akaya-kun nodded and saluted in what would have been in a mocking manner, if Yukimura hadn’t known better. Yukimura made a note to keep Masaharu-kun away from Akaya-kun and slipped quickly away to the more sterile and rather off-smelling staff-room to quickly make himself some coffee. He quickly returned to the classroom, unwilling to leave his student alone.

He almost dropped his cup as he re-entered the room. Damn. In the room, was one of the most attractive men he’d seen.

He made a quick save, and none of the drink spilled anywhere, so Yukimura was allowed to ogle for just a little longer. The other man had straight, jet-black hair and sharp, regal features. He had the straightest nose that Yukimura had ever seen and cheekbones that looked like they could cut through a wall. He had a deep-set eyes that made him look refined and serious, and while he wore a business suit, Yukimura could see the cloth straining around strong muscles. And currently, Akaya-kun was attempting to clamber up the man, like a tree.

That brought him firmly away from any of his wilder thoughts and pushed him back into his professional mode.

“Sanada-san.” greeted Yukimura, with a warm smile. “You must be Akaya-kun’s father. My name is Yukimura Seiichi, I’m Akaya-kun’s schoolteacher.” He bowed shallowly and shot one of his most charming smiles towards the taller man.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yukimura-san.” said the other man, seriously as Yukimura tried his hardest to hide the shiver at the man’s deep, baritone voice. He couldn’t help but wonder what that voice would sound like under different circumstances and mildly pinched himself to try and stem the very inappropriate thoughts. “Akaya thinks highly of you.”

“That’s because Yukimura-sensei’s awesome!” pipped in Akaya-kun, as he attempted to lift himself up by using Sanada-san’s tie. Sanada almost choked and batted away Akaya-kun’s arm, with a slight glare. “Akaya.” he warned, swatting his son lightly around the back of head, with next to no force.

Yukimura had to hide the giggles behind his hand. It was nice to know that Akaya-kun was like that with everybody. “I’m glad to think so. Sometimes Akaya-kun makes me wonder.” he said, with a light glare.

Akaya-kun giggled and made to hide behind Sanada. Sanada bowed again. “I apologize for being so late, Yukimura-san.” he said, softly. “My work often delays me, but not by this much.”

Yukimura shook his head. “It’s not a trouble. It’s my job. I’d be here this long anyway, to clean up.” That was a lie, but if Sanada usually came this late, Yukimura would be grateful. It would be easier to draw the man into conversation, to hear that very pleasant voice for a bit longer, without other children to look after or other parents to talk to.

Sanada smiled a little, and Yukimura swore that if he didn’t have a death grip on his mug, he would have dropped it then. It was like seeing someone completely different. Why was he wearing his bad cardigan that was covered in paint-stains, again? He must have looked like he had no fashion sense.

“We’d best be on our way, Yukimura-san. Thank you again.” he said, as he took Akaya-kun’s hand and started to walk away.

“Au revoir, sensei!” said Akaya-kun, eager to show off his knowledge and Yukimura waved back at him, with a soft smile.

“See you next week, Akaya-kun.” he said, with a warm smile, as they exited his classroom.

He slumped a little against the desk once they were gone, and placed his coffee cup down, as he ran his hands through his hair and whistled lowly. Damn. Damn, but Yukimura was very attracted to Sanada. “Teachers are not allowed to date parents of students.” said Yukimura sternly. “And he has a kid. He’s obviously straight. Stop dreaming, Seiichi.”

He was talking to himself. He was reaching new lows. Shiraishi would have laughed at him, telling him that his paint fumes were getting to him. And thinking of Shiraishi made Yukimura feel inadequate, which he hated. He downed his cup of coffee and grabbed his coat, so he could head home.

(X)

Seiichi was bored. There were things to do and tennis to be played and he was standing around, waiting for somebody. Seiichi tapped his foot against the floor and pulled at the front of his sticky shirt. It was a warm day too. He didn’t like standing out in the sun. And if he was, he wanted to be doing anything but just standing.

Finally, he caught a glimpse of his friend through the glass door. Seiichi could see his friend’s dad pacing around the room, his face unseen as he presumably blathered on about something to do with family duty and honour. He remembered that his friend’s dad was usually talkative and filled with stern words about what was true to the family.

Their eyes met through the glass and Seiichi grinned at his friend. His friend shrugged a little at him, his black hair flopping into his face. He could see that the baseball cap that he liked to wear was clutched in his hand. Probably something about not wearing it in the house, or something silly like that.

He stuck his tongue out at his friend. His friend’s mouth twitched a little and that was a success in itself. He resolved to make his friend laugh and pulled as devilish a face as he could muster.

Now Seiichi could see his friend’s shoulders shaking. His stern mouth was firmly pressed together and he seemed to be frantically nodding at something his father was saying. Seiichi rolled his eyes, his friend’s attention belonged on him. He had been waiting here for fifteen whole minutes. All attention was rightly deserved.

He pulled an even stranger face, like a puppy that had just been kicked and contorted his body to match. And his friend was desperately trying to not smile; he could see it from the fact that his cheeks were sucking in and his head was practically bobbing up and down as fast as the grandfather clock at Seiichi’s house.

Finally, his friend managed to escape the room and the first thing he did was push Seiichi lightly to the side. “Was that necessary? Father thought I was making fun of him!”

Seiichi smiled innocently. “You needed some lightening up. And some incentive to hurry it up. We’ll miss the Open if you keep being stupid.”

His friend’s face cleared and little and he gripped his hand in Seiichi’s as they both ran all the way down the block to Seiichi’s house.

Yukimura woke up with a start and blinked. How odd. He could still see the extended road to his house, if he squinted. He glanced at his alarm clock, which noted a time in the morning that was far too early, and Yukimura promptly went back to bed.

(X)

“Renji, you didn’t call me yesterday.” accused Yukimura, as he slipped into the cafe-come-bookstore which Yanagi worked at over weekends, as a favour to his elder sister.

“Because I knew you’d end up in here this morning.” said Yanagi with a slightly smug look as he rolled up his sleeves. “I have your macchiato ready.”

Yukimura just rolled his eyes as he accepted the cup and pulled a seat up to the counter. It was slow on Saturday mornings. Business didn’t really pick up until right before lunch, so he could afford to steal Yanagi’s time. 7am was a practical ghost town, even for a coffee place. “So? Spill.”

Yanagi smiled, with more than a little bit of humour, as he dragged up a stool and perched on the end of the counter. “The date started out okay. It was Sadaharu’s first date and he seemed determined to follow all of the customs. He brought me chocolate and flowers.”

Yukimura hesitated. Chocolate was okay, but... “You say that it started out okay. Don’t tell me...”

“The bouquet had goldenrod in it.” confirmed Yanagi, with a small nod.

Yukimura sighed impatiently and took a sip from his cup of coffee. If you had allergies, the worst thing was to hide it. Though, for someone who was so similar to Yanagi, Yukimura wasn’t really sure how Inui had managed to overlook that particular piece of data. “Renji, you can recognise goldenrod from a mile away. Why didn’t you just throw away the bouquet?”

Yanagi smiled, a little sheepishly. “It was sweet of him. And I didn’t want to disappoint him by telling him that he’d screwed up so fundamentally.” he said, and Yukimura sighed again, begging the gods for mercy from people who were too nice.

“And then?” asked Yukimura, tapping his fingers on the counter, a smile extending on his face, despite his best friend being an idiot.

“We went to the movies. He took me to see that literature adaptation of Ryu Murakami’s book that I’d been talking to you about,” said Yanagi with a small, fond smile. “I know he doesn’t enjoy those sorts of films as much as I do, so I appreciated it. He insisted on paying for popcorn and the tickets, so I let him.”

Yukimura’s mouth twitched upwards as he took another deep sip. Oh, the payment dilemma. He and Shiraishi had wasted hours of deferring between them, until they just settled it with jan-ken-pon. “Did the film go well?” asked Yukimura, as he shifted in his chair and adjusted his scarf around his neck, with two deft twists.

“Well enough, until I started coughing so hard that I had to leave the theatre.” said Yanagi as Yukimura winced, pausing in his action. “Sadaharu was understandably concerned and we went back to his apartment instead of continuing with the rest of his plans for karaoke and a science show.”

“Please say that you threw away the bouquet then.” said Yukimura, flatly, as he tossed the scarf’s ends over his shoulder.

“I’m stubborn, not stupid.” was Yanagi’s reply as he pulled Yukimura’s cup back for a refill.

“You idiot,” he said with an exasperated look, “You should have thrown it away before leaving the movie theatre.” said Yukimura as he accepted his refilled cup, with a small smile. Yanagi understood his daily coffee-fix.

“Well, it led to some favourable results, in any case. Sadaharu was considerably fussing over me when we returned to his apartment, and I managed to get him to forget his worries about making it perfect and got him to kiss me.” said Yanagi, his eyes crinkling softly.

Yukimura returned the smile, softly. He could hear the fond affection in Yanagi’s tone and he was happy for his friend. Yukimura knew how long Yanagi had been trying to make Inui see that Yanagi hadn’t wanted a perfect boyfriend, and just wanted Inui. “And? Was he a good kisser?” asked Yukimura, leaning forward, with a teasing grin.

“Better than expected. There was an exponential growth curve with each kiss, however, which was exactly what I predicted.” said Yanagi, with a slightly smug grin and Yukimura laughed delightedly, leaning back in his chair with affectionate delight.

“Well, that’s good progress for later, isn’t it?” he teased, with sparkling eyes and felt his smile fade a little as Yanagi didn’t reply to his teasing. Instead, Yanagi just looked at him, softly. “You’re more cheerful today, Seiichi. Did something happen?”

Yukimura blinked. Was he? He couldn’t tell a difference. “Well, I had a good dream. This coffee is amazing, and it’s finally summer. Why wouldn’t I be happy?” he said, chuckling.

Yanagi shrugged. “True, but it’s more than that. I haven’t seen you like this since before you met Shiraishi-kun.”

Yukimura paused and shrugged. “We weren’t good for each other, I suppose.” he said, hesitantly. He didn’t like being wrong, but his decision to date Shiraishi had been bad. “I liked him a lot, but we forced a relationship over a friendship and we both paid the price.” He shrugged and smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, the sex was really good.”

Yanagi snorted lightly. “So you told me before.” He made himself a black coffee, carefully measuring down to the last drop, with a care and precision that Yukimura sometimes envied. “Tell me about this good dream.”

Yukimura sighed as he slumped down onto the counter and attempted to remember the faint details. “It was...me as a kid. Like when I was six or seven. Like really young. It was hot, and I was bored and waiting for some kid. I was teasing him and he was reacting and then afterwards we ran off to my house.” He laughed a little and looked up. “Not very descriptive, I apologize. I can’t remember much except blue skies and the feeling you get after a hard day’s work.”

Yanagi tilted his head. “You know who the kid was?”

He shook his head. “Nope.” Yukimura said, popping the p, with a slight sigh. “Never seen him before in my li–”

He broke off there and blinked. That was inaccurate, wasn’t it? “Actually..” he muttered and Yanagi looked up with interest.

Yukimura met his look with a smirk, as he slumped and affected the tone of a lovestruck girl. “I met someone last night. He was very attractive. He hit all of my types, one after another. He was tall, dark, and sexy. And his voice...” Yukimura trailed off and winked, as he fanned himself, his voice breathy and high-pitched, like their co-worker Hanamura-sensei, who Yanagi and he liked to quietly mock while on playground duty.

Yanagi swatted him around the head with one of the small flyers on the counter. “Don’t be awful, Seiichi. You know who it is?”

Yukimura tossed him one more saucy wink before dropping the act and straightening. “Yep. And he’s off limits and straight, because it’s Akaya-kun’s father.”

Yanagi’s eyes opened with a slight look of surprise. “Sanada-kun?” he asked, with a curious look.

“Kun?” asked Yukimura, sharply, sitting a little straighter in his chair. Yanagi knew him that well?

“He’s our age.” said Yanagi, with a cautious look. “I went to university with him. He was in all of my math classes in my freshman year.”

Yukimura blinked, then blinked again and once more, for luck. “He’s our age.” he said, flatly. “He’s in his twenties?” He’d guessed a very hot mid-thirty when he’d seen the other man.

Yanagi nodded, his eyes shut again, with an amused look as he left his counter to head towards the stacks. “The boy in your dreams looked like Sanada-kun?”

“Like a younger version of him, with less lines, yes.” said Yukimura, faintly, as he got up and followed Yanagi. “But trust me, Renji, I’d remember a face like that. He was hot. I knew I wasn’t straight when I was twelve and I would have noticed someone like that.”

“You said you were six or seven in your dream.” said Yanagi, as he pulled out an Art History book from the racks that Yukimura had requested a month ago and handed it to Yukimura.

“Yes, but my mother keeps a very extensive photo record and loves to revisit it every time that either myself or my sister make it home.” said Yukimura, with a frown. “I’d know a Sanada from there.”

Yanagi looked very interested in this extensive photo collection and Yukimura was regretting mentioning it. “Then, it is your subconscious–”

Yukimura cut him off by groaning and swatting Yanagi with his scarf. “Go get a real job, Renji, where you can do this psychoanalysis for a living.”

“Don’t blame me for your pining.” said Yanagi, with a light laugh.

“I’m not pining!” said Yukimura, with an affronted look. “I’m magnificently languishing!” he said, as he dramatically swooned backwards, just like Hanamura-sensei, last week. Yanagi laughed again and Yukimura smiled at the light-hearted sound. Maybe he had been emanating sadness for a while; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d just joked around with Yanagi like this, while poking fun of others. “Look, he’s attractive and I think he’d be good in bed. There’s no subconscious mumbo-jumbo there.” said Yukimura, rolling his eyes.

“If you say so.” said Yanagi, looking unconvinced and Yukimura threw a spoon at him, which Yanagi calmly swatted away.

“Seriously though, why did you decided to teach elementary students? You could have been a university professor.” said Yukimura, leaning forward.

“They’re both educating the generations to come.” said Yanagi, mildly. “And not everyone has a temperament like you and I with children. It is better that very educated people go to teach our children from a young age, That way, they are prepared to view the future with open eyes.”

Yukimura chuckled. “That’s politician material right there, Ren. You aren’t helping your case.”

Yanagi snorted, as a customer slipped into the store. Yukimura sighed and picked up his bag from where he’d dropped it at the counter. Time for him to head out and go running around Tokyo. He couldn’t lose his fitness activity level.

(X)

“Jirou-kun, it’s time to wake up now.” said Yukimura, shaking the small blonde-haired boy awake. Jirou-kun’s brown eyes blinked at Yukimura sleepily, with an air of utmost confusion. “It’s time to go home.” said Yukimura, with a kind smile as he took the small boy’s hand and placed it in the hand of his older sister.

His sister laughed a little and waved back to Yukimura as he left his classroom. Yukimura smoothed down his decent cardigan and adjusted the french scarf around his neck as he turned towards the eager looking Akaya-kun, who was swinging his legs and building something with the wet-play blocks.

Why yes, Yukimura had dressed up to see Sanada. Despite the fact that Sanada was very clearly taken, Yukimura wasn’t going to build himself up as a man who didn’t know how to dress himself. As irrational and stupid as it was, Yukimura did want Sanada to see him as someone to be respected.

“Ready to learn some more French, Akaya-kun?” asked Yukimura, kindly, as he placed himself down on the stack of beanbags with a little more grace than he’d managed before.

“Yeah!” yelled Akaya-kun, as he threw himself down on the beanbag. “I mean, yes please...” he said, a little belatedly.

Yukimura chuckled and stroked out Akaya-kun’s hair. “Good. Manners get you everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” asked Akaya-kun, curiously.

“Everywhere.” confirmed Yukimura. “Why do you think Hiroshi-kun manages to get out of trouble before Masaharu-kun? Hiroshi-kun is always polite and apologetic for his actions, while Masaharu-kun is not.” he explained.

Akaya-kun’s eyes widened. “Ohhh....daddy always says that manners are important, but he’s not that polite either.” he said, with a laugh and a wide grin. “He’ll say something nice to somebody then turn around and call them tarundoru!”

Yukimura laughed a little. So, Sanada wasn’t a perfect company employee. He did like people with a personality. “Oh, well, take your example from me then, Akaya-kun, hmm? Politeness gets you everywhere.”

Akaya-kun nodded and they started working. Akaya-kun really was a fast learner. Wherever he had difficulty, he kept pushing through and persevering, with extra practise. It was admirable to see, especially with the slight difficulty Akaya seemed to have in remembering things for extended periods of time. He had pretty much forgotten all of the things that they’d practiced on Friday, but it was okay since he managed to recall them once prompted.

Yukimura almost lost track of time and started, upon hearing the door push open and Sanada walk in. Attractive really wasn’t enough of a word to describe the other man. Especially not when Yukimura knew that he was he and Yanagi’s age, something that still baffled Yukimura. Akaya-kun pushed out of Yukimura’s lap and bolted towards his father, wrapping himself around Sanada’s legs. “Daddy!” he cried and held on tight.

“Akaya...I need to walk.” said Sanada, with a slightly irritated expression, but he looked fond as Akaya-kun let go and gripped onto Sanada’s hand instead. “Ahh, Yukimura-san, I apologize, I was very delayed this time.”

Yukimura’s eyes flickered to the clock behind him and his eyes widened. It was almost six. “Ahh, so you were.” he said, with a small laugh, waving it off. “It’s not a trouble, I promise. My job is my life.” he said, with a secretive smile.

Sanada smiled a little, his mouth twitching up at the side. “Ahh, still, please accept my apologies and these.” he said, as he pulled out a small bag from one of Yukimura’s favourite restaurants. “If I’m keeping you out this late, I suppose I should make up for it.” he said, with a slight nod. “Thank you for taking care of Akaya so well.”

“Yeah, thank you, sensei!” said Akaya-kun, with a big grin.

“I’m not going to turn down free food.” Yukimura said, with a bemused chuckle, as he took the box and placed it on the counter behind him. How thoughtful of the other man. Handsome, thoughtful and not-as-polite as he tried to be. Sanada really was Yukimura’s type. “But I do promise you, it isn’t a trouble.”

“If you say so.” said Sanada, bowing lowly, his eyes meeting Yukimura’s for just a little too long as he straightened. “...Have a good evening, Yukimura-san.” He gripped Akaya-kun’s hand and they both left the classroom, with Akaya-kun chattering away at his father, who absently nodded.

Yukimura glanced at the food and sighed. Really. Why was he making such a big deal of it? Shiraishi would have done the same.

....the only distinction was that he was a complete stranger to Sanada, strange dreams or not. Shiraishi would have done it after they were dating, or even while they were friends. Not to complete strangers.

“Stop thinking about it.” said Yukimura sternly. “And stop trying so hard, it doesn’t work like a movie.” He picked up the bag of food, slung his coat on top of his shoulders, and walked out of his classroom, flicking the lights off.

(X)

“Serve harder!” Seiichi yelled, sweat dripping down his temples. It wasn’t enough. he still another few hours of playing left in him. His friend frowned, his brow drawing close together, as he threw the ball up. The serve came at a high velocity and Seiichi grinned triumphantly as he returned the ball with a vicious one-handed backhand.

His friend dived to return it and the rally continued, fast-paced and brutal. Finally, the last point was called, and the game fell 6-4 in Seiichi’s favour. Seiichi ran up to the net, feeling the adrenaline pumping through his blood as he shook his friend’s hand. His friends gripped his hand with a small smile, as he removed his cap to give his sweating hair, some air.

“It was a good game, wasn’t it?” asked Seiichi, as they both collapsed on the bench. It was late evening and there was a lazy feeling in the cool air. The breeze was soft and barely there, only gently tugging at Seiichi’s skin and the smell of hard-courts, burning rubber and tingling ozone filled the sky.

“For you, maybe.” retorted his friend, as he tipped a bottle of water over his face and splashed the remnants at Seiichi, who stuck his tongue out to catch the last drops of the cool liquid. Seiichi rubbed his face in the soft feeling of his new towel and tucked away his racket, inside the cool new bag.

“You want to come over?” asked Seiichi, lazily, as he removed his wristbands and tucked them into his bag. “Kaa-san’s not cooking, so you don’t have to worry!”

“If your parents won’t mind...” said his friend, straightening and putting his cap back on. “I’ll have to call kaa-sama when we reach your house, but it should be fine.”

Seiichi grinned and nudged his friend in the side. His friend had gotten taller and Seiichi sometimes hated it. Most of the time, he just teased his friend for being so clumsy with his height. “I have to show you that article I read about Federer yesterday. I think you’ll appreciate it.”

His friend subtly smiled, with the corner of his mouth twitching up and Seiichi grinned back, wide and full of joy. “I’ll race you! Last one there’s got to kiss my sister on the cheek!”

His friend gaped, but quickly sprinted after Seiichi, with a shout on his lips and the sweat slipping off their skin. It had been a good day.

Yukimura stirred awake as his alarm pulsed and frowned. He’d dreamt of Sanada again. He and Sanada, as children, playing tennis. But Yukimura had never been interested in tennis as a child. He only knew the rules because of Yanagi’s love of the sport. So what had that been about?

(X)

The classroom was, for once, cold and Yukimura shivered a little, as he pulled his cardigan around him. He hadn’t read the forecast that morning and now he was sorely regretting it. Why was it this cold in summer, for heaven’s sake?

At least Akaya-kun seemed cheerful enough in his big coat as he played around with red bricks. He’d seemed uninterested in French today, so Yukimura had left him alone. He was too cold to have to teach extra things anyway, and he was on his fifth cup of scalding coffee; any more caffeine and he’d explode into a sleepless mess.

He frowned a little at the door and shut his eyes. He’d pretty much guaranteed that he wouldn’t sleep for the next three days, but he still felt tired. Winter weather always made him think of when he’d fell and the two years he’d spent in misery, before French doctors had performed the miracle surgery he’d needed. He always became more lethargic during winter. He hated summers being dreary.

“You look exhausted, Yukimura-san.” said a concerned voice, as he felt a thump next to him. Yukimura opened his eyes to see Sanada, leaned against the counter next to him, a slight frown in his deep-set eyebrows. He smiled softly at him.

“I’m just cold, I wouldn’t worry too much.” he said, as he straightened and ran a hand through his hair, running his eyes over Sanada’s figure. The obviously hand-knitted sweater that was layered under his suit-jacket made him look sort of dorky, which made Yukimura’s smile all the wider. “How was your day, Sanada-san?” he asked, with a smile.

“Tiring.” he said, shortly. At Yukimura’s unimpressed look, he sighed and continued. “I had more paperwork than usual and a meeting with my superiors to report what we’d achieved, which was less than what they were expecting.”

“How dull.” commented Yukimura, with a sigh and Sanada agreed a little, with a deeper frown. “I could never do office work.”

“Which is why you became a teacher?” asked Sanada, curiously, as Akaya-kun made the brick airplanes fly around the room.

“I suppose that was part of it.” said Yukimura, with a small laugh. “Teaching is a way to educate the future. There are few who actually care about children beyond the job their money makes them. I disliked the idea of people working with children because they have to. It should be something they enjoy.” But it was more selfish than that in many ways, especially when it came to the sheer life that children possessed. But Yukimura didn't feel like telling him that.

Yukimura turned back. Sanada’s gaze was on him and there was something distant in his eyes. “That’s admirable.” said Sanada, as he too straightened up and took off his jacket. Yukimura blinked a little, as Sanada pulled off his jumper, with a slightly curious look. Not that he was protesting to the slight glimpse of Sanada’s abs under his shirt, but what was he doing? Much to Yukimura’s disappointment, no more layers came off. Instead, Sanada handed the jumper to Yukimura.

“Here.” he said, with a nod. “Keep it. If you’re cold, you should keep it.” he said, almost looking embarrassed by his actions. “Bye.”

Yukimura blinked as Sanada reached for Akaya-kun’s hand and pulled him out of the classroom. Surreptitiously, he brought the warm jumper up to his face and held it there for a small second, before kicking himself internally for being idiotic, and putting it on. He didn’t feel cold anymore.

(X)

A few weeks passed with the same routine. Yukimura taught his class, accompanied the after-schoolers, until Sanada-san finally traipsed in either with food or a barely-there, heart-melting smile to offer Yukimura. Then, Yukimura went home and pretended that he wasn’t jerking off to the married man’s eyes, hair, and voice.

His nights were filled with vivid dreams of himself and Sanada as children, going to a middle school that Yukimura didn’t know or even recognize, playing tennis, laughing and being fools, sitting in lessons, writing notes, and sometimes just riding a bus home together in silence. The more dreams that happened, the more that Yukimura felt just a little scared.

His dreams had never been like this before. He usually swam in chocolate rivers, or random places he’d been to and random people he’d met morphed into squares, like Dali and Picasso’s painting combined and animated. Not like this stark photographic experience, like an old film from the seventies or eighties, with the grainy quality and the wistful feeling merged through it all.

But he pushed it from his mind mostly and didn’t say a word to Yanagi. He had no desire to be psychoanalyzed and told he was a nutcase. He’d had enough physical diagnosis back in middle school when he’d been hit with Myasthenia Gravis and had moved to France for treatment. His mind was his own.

He just kept going on with his classes and let his students be his life. It wasn’t a bad life, even if he was sometimes struck with self-pity. He adored each of his students like they were his own...and some more than others.

“What’s this, Akaya-kun?” asked Yukimura, kindly, as he started to scrub at Akaya’s paint-covered skin, while he worked on his very sparkly painting. Yukimura had known it was a bad idea to let Konjiki-kun to have the glitter paints out, but he had been feeling rather less generous towards the custodians lately, who were coming in far too early and had interrupted his talking time with Sanada-san three times so far.

“It’s daddy!” said Akaya, pointing towards the large figure in black with sparkly hair. “And this is me.” he said, pointing to the much smaller figure with squiggles for hair and a big smile. and sparkles everywhere. “It’s our family. I want to give it to daddy as a present! But it’s not done yet.” he said, as he obediently held his face still, so Yukimura could remove the streaks of red and black from the young boy’s chubby face.

Yukimura smiled. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” he said, softly as he worked on Akaya’s arms. “But where’s your mum?”

“Mummy’s the big cloud in the sky, or at least, that’s what my uncle says.” said Akaya, with a slightly conspiratorial smile. “But I know she’s dead. They don’t need to lie to me.” he said, as he started painting the grass slowly.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” said Yukimura, with a frown. He hadn’t known that. How dreadful for Akaya. But it did account for why Akaya had never seemed to mention his mother, only Sanada-san. And why Sanada-san’s mother was the secondary contact for Akaya, and not Akaya’s mother. “Well, we need to clean up soon, but I’ll leave you be, if you want to finish it after school?”

Akaya nodded, his head bobbing up and down like a Chinese doll. “Yes please, sensei.”

Yukimura cleared up the rest of the class quickly, and with it being a Friday, most people were very eager to vacate the classroom. It was rather annoying for Yukimura, who had to corner Kaidoh-san and tell her to try and not dress Kaoru-kun in dresses, because he got very embarrassed and it inhibited his ability to communicate well with the others in the class. However, it did mean that Yukimura was allowed to relax a little sooner than he would have otherwise been able to.

Akaya was now so often a late-school kid that Yukimura didn’t even bother pretending to be completely professional anymore, as he stretched out lazily. Akaya didn’t even look up from his labour on the picture, and Yukimura loped over and perched down on the low tables to peer over the younger boy’s shoulder.

“So, how’s it going?” he asked, cheerfully.

Akaya turned around to shoot him a wide grin. “Daddy’s all covered in glitter!” he said, with a grin. “Because he works super hard so he should get all the glitter, because he’s a star!”

Yukimura laughed, leaning back a little on the desk. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” he said, with a slight smirk. It was a well-done picture, but the sheer amount of glitter on the paper was almost blinding for Yukimura. He could only wonder what the slightly less brightly-toned Sanada would think about it.

“Will he really?” asked Akaya, suddenly, putting down his paintbrush, his big green eyes widening in concern.

Yukimura tousled Akaya’s curls, fondly. “I’m sure.” he said, with a firm tone that brooked no argument. Any decent parent pretended to be interested in their kid’s work, even if Sanada seemed too busy to pay much attention to Akaya.

“If you say so, sensei!” said Akaya, with a slightly warm smile as he turned back to his painting. Yukimura left him to it, as he started to clean up and think about what he next wanted to do for his classes. He didn’t need to make definite lesson plans, as it were, but he did need to have an idea of his classes.

Yukimura glanced up at the clock with a frown as Akaya finished and started to pack up obediently, without Yukimura having to say a word. It was almost six. It wasn’t supposed to be a late day, today....

“All done, Akaya-kun?” asked Yukimura, with a smile.

Akaya nodded, easily, with a wide grin. Yukimura smiled again, he was endearing. “Okay,” he said, as he pressed down a small french workbook that he’d managed to obtain. “Why don’t you start on this? It’s yours to keep, for our extra-school stuff, okay?”

Akaya seemed very happy to be working on his workbook, despite the late hour, so Yukimura quickly slipped out of the room, telling Akaya that he was going for coffee. It was already past the usual time that Sanada ended up arriving to pick up Akaya on fridays. Yukimura picked up the wall phone and looked at Akaya’s files for Sanada’s number, as he glanced at the clock.

“Moshi moshi, this is Sanada speaking.” said a slightly terse voice from the other end of the line. Moshi moshi? That was surprisingly cute for the other man. Yukimura could just imagine the taller man frowning at his phone, hunched over a desk somewhere, with a hello kitty mug or something, now.

“Ahh, it’s Yukimura, Akaya-kun’s teacher?” he asked politely, as he twirled the cord between his fingers.

“I’m sorry!” said Sanada, his voice suddenly sounding panicked and weary, as if he’d just remembered about his son. Yukimura wondered exactly how busy the other man was, to forget the existence of a child like Akaya. “I’m very held up, there’s another hour left, I’m so sorry...”

Yukimura shook his head and laughed, reassuringly. “No, no, don’t worry about it, Sanada-san. I can continue to look after Akaya-kun. It’s just the school is closing in about ten minutes. I have to lock up and leave. So if you’d like, I can take Akaya-kun home with me and you can pick him up from my apartment.”

“...thank you. I appreciate it. I apologize once more, Yukimura-san.” he said, firmly, with more than a little exhaustion. Yukimura was quick to demur.

“Don’t apologize.” he said, firmly. “You can’t help it.”

“Then, thank you.” said Sanada, his voice a little more subdued.

“My pleasure. I’ll text you my address and you can pick up Akaya-kun from there.” said Yukimura, with a soft smile. Sanada’s voice was still something that could make him go weak at the knees, especially when it was that quiet. This was also a way to get Sanada inside his apartment. Maybe Yukimura would be able to pretend that it was because Sanada wanted to, and not because he had to pick up his kid.

“...Alright, goodbye.” said Sanada, as the phone went down and Yukimura sighed a little, running a hand through his hair, as he hung up the school’s phone again. He quickly texted Sanada his address, before moving to grab Akaya.

“Let’s go! We’re going home to my place, so the school can close down.” explained Yukimura, as he grabbed his jacket and his messenger bag from his desk. Akaya nodded and picked up the small book to put in his folder, with a wide smile.

“Niou-senpai was telling me a really cool story, you should let me tell you it, sensei!” said Akaya, as Yukimura firmly gripped his hand, to make sure the boy didn’t run out into the road in his excitement.

Yukimura nodded absently as they walked home, letting Akaya’s chatter wash over him. He nodded in the right places and made noises of encouragement, but otherwise, mellowed in his thoughts. He hadn’t had to take kids home before and as far as he knew, neither had Yanagi. It made him wonder. Sanada’s mother was a contact name on his list. Why hadn’t Sanada just asked his mother to pick up Akaya? Was she busier than he?

It was a little hard to believe that anyone was busier than Sanada, Yukimura thought, as he momentarily let go of Akaya’s hand to unlock the door to his apartment.

“Woah, sensei!” said Akaya, his eyes widening. “It’s so greeeeen!”

Yukimura laughed. His apartment was filled with plants of various shapes, sizes and colours. He loved it, it made him feel a little like he lived in a garden. Shiraishi had loved it too, mainly because his own roommate hadn’t let him decorate his place with more than one pot plant. Yukimura tried to not think about the fact that Shiraishi had loved it; Yukimura had made this aesthetic decision before he’d met Shiraishi. He didn’t need to change because he and Shiraishi had split.

“Do you like it?” asked Yukimura, as he shut the door behind him and pulled Akaya’s shoes off, while the young boy struggled to not go run around.

“It’s nice, sensei! But why don’t you just get a garden?” asked Akaya, with a curious look.

“Expensive.” said Yukimura, with a small frown. “It’s five times the cost of this, would you believe?”

Akaya’s eyes widened. “Woaaaahhh! But grandma has a garden...is she rich, sensei?”

“Probably not very much so. Families can afford houses. Single teachers like me, can’t.” said Yukimura, with a slightly rueful smile. Also, he refused to get a housemate. That would be why he was stuck in the plant cupboard. “Alright, do you want pasta or sushi, Akaya-kun?”

Akaya smiled. “Pasta please, sensei!”

“See, manners get you everywhere.” said Yukimura, with a smile. Akaya beamed and Yukimura lifted him up and placed him on his kitchen table. “Keep telling me that story, Akaya-kun, while I cook for us.”

Akaya smiled and started talking about the story again, and this time, Yukimura paid him a lot more attention as he poured out the pasta sauce and stirred the pot, tossing remarks at Akaya and smiling and laughing with him. With the late summer sun streaming in through his plant-framed window, it was a peaceful scene.

It made his place seem less empty, when the walls were ringing with the laughter of Akaya. Though when Akaya succumbed to the call of sleep, after finishing his food a little messily and watching some TV, Yukimura felt the slight silence set in. It was almost half past seven at night.

It seemed quieter now, since the walls had known the sounds of such laughter and were now deprived of it. Had he really not laughed that often? His apartment certainly seemed to accuse him of it.

His musings were interrupted by the doorbell ringing and Yukimura stood up quickly to open the door to the guest. “Sanada-san.” he greeted, with a small smile.

The taller man looked more attractive than ever, framed by the rays of the dying sun and a little disheveled, from evidently running to Yukimura’s place. He smiled weakly at Yukimura and nodded in his direction. “Akaya?” he asked, as Yukimura opened the door fully to let him in.

“Asleep.” said Yukimura, with a grin. “I think I wore him out or bored him. Possibly the latter.”

Sanada nodded, with a faint smirk, and removed his shoes. “Well, I’ll take him off your hands.”

“Ah, wait.” said Yukimura, suddenly, seized by the sight of Sanada’s perfect back and the suit jacket straining against it. “You must be tired. I still have a lot of food left over from what I made Akaya-kun and myself. You should eat something before you go home. I bet the last thing you want to do now is cook.”

Sanada looked a little alarmed. “No, that would be imposing. I wouldn’t dare.” he said, quickly.

“No, I insist.” said Yukimura, with a frown. “I have too much left since I overestimated Akaya-kun’s appetite and it would go to waste.”

And that was one way to make food sound appealing. Not. What an idiot he was being. Still, it seemed to make Sanada waver. Finally, he sighed and nodded, as he moved towards Yukimura’s kitchen. “Thank you. You do far too much.”

“And I keep telling you, it isn’t a trouble. Just common courtesy.” said Yukimura, with as much of a dazzling smile as he could muster, as he microwaved the leftover pasta for Sanada.

“There are few who would do this.” said Sanada, with a mild look.

“It’s my job to look after the children’s welfare. And besides, Akaya-kun’s a delightful student. I want to make sure it stays that way.” said Yukimura, cheerfully, as the microwave dinged and Yukimura brought Sanada some chopsticks too. He took a seat on the chair on the other end of the table from Sanada and smiled.

Sanada snapped his chopsticks neatly down the middle and met Yukimura’s eyes boldly as he said, “Itadakimasu.” Yukimura’s mouth twitched up as he flickered his gaze down to the table. Now he had Sanada here, he was admittedly finding it difficult to think of conversation that didn’t sound inane and boring. Perhaps this had been a bad idea.

“....you seem to have more plants than furniture.” said Sanada, almost awkwardly and it managed to surprise a laugh from Yukimura.

“Ahh, you really are birds of a feather! Akaya-kun asked the same question. But yes, I adore plants and gardening. You could call it an obsession.” said Yukimura, with a smile, eagerly snatching onto the topic that Sanada had offered him.

“You always use potted plants?” asked Sanada, curiously. “They seem to grow well, with such little room.”

Yukimura shook his head, softly. “I used to have a big garden, bigger than my room and my sister’s combined. But it’s difficult to find gardens like that in Japan, and even more impossible to find them in Tokyo, without paying an exorbitant amount. Pot plants are my way of making up for it.” he explained, with a little more detail than he usually liked to give out.

“You didn’t used to live in Tokyo?” asked Sanada, curiously, as he lifted a piece of pasta up to his lips.

“I lived Kanagawa up until my first year of junior high. Then we moved to France up until I finished college.” explained Yukimura, with a small, slightly rueful smile. He’d moved to France after the doctors in Japan had been able to do nothing and his mother, fed up with the lack of treatment handed out by doctors in Japan, moved them all to France.

He’d loved it there, but there really was no place like home. “Kanagawa? Near Rikkai university?” asked Sanada, sharply, his brow furrowing.

Yukimura gaped at Sanada. What? Was Sanada like Yanagi in terms of data collection? “Yes...” he said, faintly. “My mother and father moved back there a couple of years back, because they liked it there so much.”

Sanada’s expression changed, to something almost incredulous. “I used to live there until I went to university. My family home is still there.” he said, with a slightly amused look.

Yukimura’s lips narrowed a little. “Near the Sanada Dojo?” he asked, with a little hesitation.

Sanada let out a small bark of laughter. “At the house next to the dojo. My grandfather teaches there. How did you know?”

“It’s quite famous, don’t you know?” teased Yukimura with a laugh, to hide his incredulity. He’d never heard of it, not once. He’d not been that interested in many sports besides cricket. But some of his dreams had taken place at the Sanada Dojo, with a younger Sanada slashing up straw dolls while his younger self had laughed and sketched him.

How much of his dreams were accurate?

“Ahh, but I didn’t think it was that famous..” said Sanada, with a slight smile. “Grandfather would be pleased.”

Yukimura smiled a little. “What a coincidence. I didn’t know you were from Kanagawa. Renji just mentioned that you two had gone to University together.”

“He did?” asked Sanada, with a slight curiosity. “I didn’t know him that well, I’m sorry to say. I only saw him in my classes and outside of classes a few times. I only just recognised him when I first picked up Akaya. He mentioned it before I did.”

“Well, I’m not surprised you didn’t remember him. Renji’s creepy when you first get to know him, so people try to put him out of mind, but he does that because he’s afraid of attachment.” said Yukimura, dismissively. “I wouldn’t get put off by his initial demeanour.”

“Ah.” said Sanada, with a subtle amusement. “And you’re much better with first impressions?”

Yukimura laughed. “Well, I’m hoping that you didn’t think I was weird when you first met me. You didn’t, did you?” he asked, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead.

“Well...it certainly wasn’t my first thought.” said Sanada, almost coyly.

“And what was your first thought, hmm?” asked Yukimura, raising one brow curiously.

“That isn’t for everyone’s ears.” replied Sanada, quickly, with something that was definitely a bit of amusement in his eyes.

Yukimura had reached new lows. He was flirting with a widower, not five feet from the man’s sleeping son. And he was sure that Sanada was flirting back. But that couldn’t be right, the other man was straight. The proof was behind them.

“Unless you’re implying that you’re uncomfortable by the presence of my plants, I’m not quite sure what you mean.” said Yukimura with a slightly lower laugh than his usual tones.

Sanada’s eyes met his, for just a bit too long and Yukimura almost felt a shudder run down his back. There was something there, though what was still to be decided. That was the second such look he’d seen and Yukimura was about to test his luck, when there was a small sound of a yawn.

“Sensei..?” asked the small, sleepy voice of Akaya and Yukimura immediately swallowed what he’d been about to say. What had he been thinking?

“In here, Akaya-kun,” he said, with a small smile. “Don’t you have something to show to your father?”

Sanada blinked a little, as if coming out of a haze. Yukimura felt that way himself and his heart was pounding like he’d run six miles through the hot Tokyo sun, but he managed to grin as Akaya sleepily traipsed towards them, the glittery painting in hand. The younger boy perked up upon seeing Sanada and sprinted to him, as he brandished the picture at Sanada.

“This is for you!” he said, with a big grin.

Sanada nodded and his eyebrow twitched a little. “It’s very nice, Akaya.” he said, absently, as he stood up and bowed to Yukimura. He seemed a little more reserved now. “Thank you for looking after Akaya. I apologize for any trouble.”

Yukimura shook his head, as he ruffled Akaya’s hair. He didn’t miss the disappointed look on Akaya’s face and he felt more than a little sorry for the kid. Really, he’d picked the wrong moment to wake up. Or the right one, for Yukimura’s conscience. “It wasn’t a trouble. Akaya-kun’s a pleasure to be around. You’re very lucky to have him.” said Yukimura, hoping to soothe the poor boy’s ruffled ego.

Sanada nodded and Akaya leant closer into Yukimura’s side, looking almost defeated. Yukimura squeezed Akaya’s shoulder and waved them both goodbye, as they left his apartment.

“You’re going insane, Yukimura Seiichi.” he told himself, firmly as he faced his hydrangeas. “You’re seeing things because you’re attracted to him. He’s married. Stop thinking about it.”

Still, those dreams had to count for something. And Yukimura couldn’t believe that it had been right about the dojo. But, Yukimura had played tennis in that dream. Yukimura had never liked tennis.

(X)

“Renji?’ asked Yukimura, as he sipped from his scalding coffee as they watched over the playground. Despite it being summer, it was still rather cold. Though, the weather had improved from the month before.

“Seiichi?” asked Yanagi, looking away from where he had been smiling at the older girls jump-roping with a precise accuracy, despite being having their eyes shut and singing something.

“Did Sanada play tennis against you in university?” asked Yukimura curiously, as he shuffled the coffee in his hands.

Yanagi’s eyes opened and he looked at Yukimura with some shock. “He told you that?” he asked, with a slightly surprised look.

Yukimura shook his head. “No, I guessed. He said that you didn’t talk when you shared that class, and you don’t remember every person you’ve ever met. The only place where you remember every single person is at tennis, but if he has a vague memory of you too, it’s from tennis.” he said, carefully, spelling out his reasoning.

Yanagi shot him a calculating look. “That isn’t the only reason, is it?” he asked, as they turned to look back towards the playing children.

Yukimura was saved from answering, by a gathering crowd in the corner of the playground, close to the car park. He shoved his coffee cup into Yanagi’s hands and sprinted over. There was only one reason that the children congregated like that.

As he got closer, he could see Akaya’s black curls and the brown-hair of Wakashi-kun in the centre of the scrummage. Hikaru-kun was attempting to pull the two apart and Kaoru-kun was running towards him, his eyes wide.

“What is going on?” demanded Yukimura, his voice louder to project and reach them. The playground around him stopped moving and chatting as the majority of the crowd around Akaya and Wakashi-kun dissipated to make room for him. Akaya and Wakashi-kun hadn’t stopped fighting and Yukimura sharply yanked them apart.

Wakashi-kun sulkily nursed his mouth and cheek with his hands, which were bleeding. Akaya, who was breathing hard, and relatively uninjured except for a cut on his eyebrow, looked vindicated and determined.

“What happened?” he demanded again to the silent crowd. When he received no answer, he turned to the two children who had been involved. “Well?”

“He punched me in the face.” said Wakashi-kun, sulkily, in between drips of blood. “I told him to stop, but he didn’t, so I hit him back!”

“He insulted my grandma.” protested Akaya, stamping his foot. “I couldn’t just let it happen!”

“Then you should have come and told me instead of punching him and we could have sorted this out in a better way.” said Yukimura, icily. He pursed his lips and he could almost see both of the boys shrink away a little from his rage. “Keigo-kun,” he said, addressing one of the few responsible kids in the older years, who looked somewhat disgusted. “Take Wakashi-kun to the nurse’s wing. Wakashi-kun, you must learn to not say things to people without thinking. You’re not allowed to play outside for all of next week, you’ll be inside with Hanamura-sensei. Akaya-kun, with me, now.”

Akaya’s eyes fell to his feet and he dragged his feet behind him as he slowly followed Yukimura’s strides. Yanagi sent him a significant look, asking about the problem and Yukimura grimaced in response, which meant it had been fixed.

He led Akaya to the library and sat him down at one of the small tables. It was empty of practically everyone else, so their conversation would be mostly private. Akaya pouted and pulled at his curls, fidgeting impatiently as Yukimura knelt next to him, with a bandage in hand, quiet and patient as he smoothed the plastic over Akaya’s eyebrow and waited for the other to talk.

“....Hiyoshi said that my grandma was fuddy-duddy and that she was boring.” said Akaya, petulantly, giving in, quickly.

“Which doesn’t warrant a punch.” countered Yukimura, with a frown. Akaya had once called Jirou-kun boring, himself. “I’m very disappointed in you, Akaya-kun. I expected better from you. Why do you think that Yanagi-sensei and I stand outside at playtimes? We’re to stop trouble.”

Akaya looked away and shrugged, his face becoming more of a pout. “Yeah, so?”

“You know what I have to do now, because you did the wrong thing, right?” said Yukimura, with a frown .

“You have to call my dad.” said Akaya, with a nod, that was a little more empathetic. Yukimura blinked and stared at the younger boy. He still looked angry and determined and unrepentant, but...he seemed a lot happier and more confident now. Surely not....?

“Akaya-kun.” said Yukimura, placing his hands on Akaya’s shoulders. “Your father pays enough attention to you at home, doesn’t he?” he asked, softly.

“Sometimes.” said Akaya, with a slight frown himself as he looked at Yukimura with a nervous look, fidgeting a little in his seat. “He’s just...busy.”

“But this isn’t the right way to go about this.” said Yukimura, as his suspicions were confirmed. It was disappointing to know that Akaya hadn’t simply lost his temper, but had premediated this event. It was clever of the boy, but disappointing. “Your father will pay you attention, but he will be angry, hurt, and confused about why you did it. He might even blame himself for failing you as a father.”

“But he’ll care about me!” said Akaya, with a larger frown. “He doesn’t even look at me properly, sensei!”

Yukimura didn’t know what to say. He felt for Akaya, he really did. He remembered a childhood trying to distract his mother from her science books and tell his father everything, in those few hours he got home from the advertising company. Really, it wasn’t until his illness that he had become close to his parents. “It gets better.” he murmured softly. “But acting out isn’t the way to do it, to make them look at you.”

“I don’t care.” said Akaya, crossing his arms over his chest.

Yukimura frowned at his younger charge but got up anyway. “You won’t be allowed to play outside for two weeks. Stay here and behave. If you move even an inch, I’ll leave you in the infirmary all day with the nurse.” Akaya pouted but complied.

He managed to keep in the slightly bitter laughter until he’d managed to leave the library, where he darkly chuckled his way to the staff room, garnering him a weird look from his colleagues. Akaya could hardly be called unintelligent when it came to people. The younger boy had planned it. He’d seen how little attention his perfect image had gotten him from Sanada, so he was acting like a delinquent now.

Any way to get his father to pay attention to him. It was sad, wasn’t it?

Yukimura picked up the wall phone and dialed Sanada’s number, shifting his weight from foot to foot as the phone rang. “Moshi moshi, this is Sanada speaking.”

“Hello? This is Yukimura-san, from the school?” asked Yukimura, politely. “I’m calling to tell you that Akaya-kun’s been involved at an incident in school today.”

There was a small pause on the other side of the line and finally a voice breathed back, almost neutral in tone. “What happened? Is he okay?”

“He himself is fine.” said Yukimura, with a frown. “He actually punched another student. I don’t want to you to worry, but when incidents like this happen, generally, we have a parent-teacher conference after school. So whenever you can make it, just plan to stay back for maybe ten minutes so I can talk to you about Akaya-kun.”

“I understand.” said Sanada back, quickly. “I’ll get there as quickly as I can. I am sorry for the trouble that Akaya has caused.”

Yukimura shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Part of my job.”

(X)

Actually, no, it wasn’t okay. Yukimura was silently fuming by the time that Sanada arrived and even the sight of the other man and his immense attractiveness didn’t quell his anger, not one bit. Perhaps it was fueled a little by his own experiences, but maybe it was also set off by the quiet Akaya in his class for the rest of the day and the silent boy who just stared at the table for most of the afterschool time.

“Where’s Akaya?” asked Sanada, looking stern and concerned at once, which must have been a contradiction, but worked just fine for the other man.

“He’s in the library working on his schoolwork.” said Yukimura, coolly. “Because I need to talk to you about Akaya-kun, first.”

Sanada nodded and looked expectant.

“You’ve been quite unfair to him.” said Yukimura, coldly. At Sanada’s alarmed expression, Yukimura cut him off. “No, listen to me. He’s a child. He loves you, adores you, and idolizes you. He wants nothing more than to spend time with you, but he gets what, an hour? An hour and a half? Just because of your work? And what little time he does receive with you is distracted. You are thinking of work or your other family or your house or what to cook.”

Sanada’s brow furrowed even more and Yukimura continued, his voice a lot quieter now, more like his usual volume. “He’s an active kid. He wants to play games with you, have you spend time with him. Ask about how he’s doing. Listen to him babble. How much do you really know about what your son does at school? How he feels, beyond his schoolwork? Who his friends are?”

Sanada crossed his arms across his chest. “I know who his friends are–”

“Because your mother told you?” demanded Yukimura, placing his hands on his hips. “Akaya-kun acted out today in breaktime. He slapped another child who is generally a good friend of his and they were almost brawling. This isn’t like Akaya-kun’s usual behaviour at all, and when I asked him about it, the first thing he asked was whether you would be called in. Not with apprehension like most children threatened with parental discipline, but happiness. He acted out, harmed another student and harmed himself, because he wanted your attention.”

Sanada was silent now, all protests dying on his lips as he just looked at Yukimura.

“You have to make a choice, Sanada-kun.” said Yukimura, with a slight command to his tone. “Because you aren’t balancing your work and your kid properly. He doesn’t have a mother anymore which would allow you to work long hours, he only has you. So, you have decide what is more important to you, Akaya-kun, or your job. If it’s your job, just remove yourself from Akaya-kun’s life, he doesn’t need that pain of having someone distant whom he idolizes.”

Sanada was silent as his face minutely shifted. “It’s not that easy.” he said, his voice tight as he finally responded.

“It’s not, I agree.” said Yukimura, firmly. “But you have to, for Akaya-kun’s wellbeing.”

Sanada nodded, his eyes not meeting Yukimura’s. Yukimura just pointed him towards the library, with a slightly wan smile. He was used to giving parents slightly firm lectures about how to deal with children, but he had never been so guilty about doing it, not for anyone. Except one Sanada Genichirou.

(X)

Seiichi jogged away from the tennis courts, stretching out his calves as he went to the side. It had been a high-energy match against his senpai, but he’d easily won, as he’d expected. He turned to ask his friend about his performance, when he frowned. His friend was fast asleep, head tilted back, with light, barely audible snores, muffled by the bill of his cap. He had been supposed to watch Seiichi play....

“Hey, get up.” said Seiichi, as he shook his friend gently.

“...wha’?” asked his friend groggily, as his brown eyes blinked open and focused on Seiichi’s face.

“You’ve been out of it all week. But I haven’t seen you fall asleep until now. What happened?” asked Seiichi, with a small frown. Usually, this was the friend that he didn’t have to worry about, but now he was concerned.

There was a long silence and a long staring contest, of slightly foggy-brown eyes to clear, sharp blue, both striving to not be the first to give in. But finally, his friend’s gaze pulled away and he tugged his hat down, to cover his eyes. “...dad lost his job.” He cleared his throat self-consciously and shifted on the seat. “I’ve had to work some extra chores around the neighbourhood to help out with the family. Nii-sama and Ojii-sama are doing a lot, but the money from the dojo and the radio aren’t quite enough to support a family of seven.”

Seiichi paused to just look at his friend. He looked tired. His usually proud back was slumped a little from exhaustion and he could see the dark bags starting to form under his friend’s eyes. With a slightly choked noise, Seiichi threw his arms around his friend, burying his face in the other’s neck. “Idiot.” he rebuked. “Should have told me earlier. We’d have helped out with homework and you could have slept earlier, skipped out on your stupid meditation.”

“Don’t be stupid, Seiichi.” said his friend, with a more awkward return of the hug.

“Don’t be stubborn.” retorted Seiichi. “Let me buy you lunch at the cafeteria.”

“I couldn’t...”

“But you will.” commanded Seiichi, with a frown. “Let go of your pride, Genichirou, please. Let us help you.”

Yukimura awoke with a start, his heart still thumping. He could still feel the evening sun on his shoulders and Sanada’s breath on the back of his neck, but as the rest of the contents of the dream registered, Yukimura frowned down at his hands.

The contents of the dreams had been accurate so far towards Sanada. The tennis, the dojo, Kanagawa, the family situation....so if things were right, Sanada’s father had lost his job and forced Sanada to work. Still, Yukimura had to confirm it.

He scrambled for his phone and blinked at the time. It was half past midnight...Yanagi would still be awake. He quickly found Yanagi in his contacts and waited for the phone to pick up after three rings as it always did.

“Seiichi?” asked the slightly confused voice on the other end of the line. “It is unlike you to be awake this late.”

“It’s just a quick question, Renji.” assured Yukimura, as he willed the sleepy edge to go from his voice. “Did Sanada-san’s father lose his job when he was in high school?”

“Yes....” said Yanagi, his voice very concerned. “But he would never tell you that. He has too much pride. I found out from his nephew.”

“I guessed it.” said Yukimura, quickly, but it sounded hollow. How could you guess something like that? It wasn’t something you could guess. He could almost see Yanagi’s slightly skeptical look in his head and he made a slightly impatient sound. “Okay, I didn’t. But that’s why he cares so much about his job?”

“Seiichi...”

“Just....play along, will you?” snapped Yukimura. “You wouldn’t believe how I got the information. I barely believe it myself.”

“Yes.” said Yanagi’s voice, in a slightly tighter and quieter tone. Yukimura immediately regretted snapping. He never really raised his voice to Yanagi; he only ever got quieter and more articulate. “He feels that his experiences without money were one of the worst points of his life.”

“And of course, that would cause him to prioritize money and a job over spending time with Akaya-kun...” murmured Yukimura to himself, almost. “I get it.”

“Seiichi, how do you know this?” asked Yanagi, again, his voice concerned.

Yukimura hesitated as he glanced down at his phone. Did he tell him? Yanagi was his closest friend he’d had in a very long time. But Yanagi favoured logic and analysis. These dreams didn’t comply to that ruleset.

“I’ll tell you when I understand it myself, Renji. I’m so confused myself....” said Yukimura finally. “Goodnight.”

He placed the phone down before Yanagi could say anything. His best friend wouldn’t call back, he knew. Yukimura breathed through his teeth for a little while, staring at his hands. Maybe he understood Sanada’s priorities now, but he wouldn’t take back his words. It was better to have a happy childhood with a loving, poor family, rather than to be rich and without love. After all, when you were loving, that was when you were truly rich.

Still, he didn’t think that Sanada had deserved Yukimura’s full wrath. Perhaps he would apologize, if his pride would let him.

(X)

That time never came. Yukimura waited patiently after school for a week, but Sanada never came to pick up his son. Instead, Akaya’s grandmother came to pick up Akaya on time, and was greeted entirely by Akaya’s smiles and chattering. There were no long after-school visits, no reading French books to Akaya, and no bags of food or soft conversation with the other man, after school.

Every time Yukimura saw Sanada’s mother, he smiled sadly. She was proof that Sanada had chosen his job over Akaya. That made him more than a little sad, but Akaya didn’t really seem fazed by any of the events unfurling. In fact, he barely seemed to contact Yukimura in their lessons or break-times, choosing instead to run off with his friends. It made Yukimura feel a little forlorn, but it meant that Akaya was just another student.

It meant that he didn’t have to think about Sanada and falling for his voice and gestures. It meant that maybe now he could leave school at a mostly reasonable time, he could start to have a life outside of classes again.

Yukimura didn’t resign himself to his fate, he threw himself into it, eager for the escape from the pining. It had never been Yukimura’s style. When he wanted something, he usually got it; he didn’t sit around debating whether he should or shouldn’t. Sanada’s mixed signals had made him hesitant, which had fazed Yukimura like nothing else.

It was to escape Sanada’s influence that Yukimura smiled wider, spoke louder and threw himself into his job and his jogs after school. He ignored Renji’s concerned looks in between their frequent conversations and he ignored the calls from his mother. He would be fine. Better, even.

The dreams had stopped, that was enough of a sign to tell that Sanada was out of his life now. It hadn’t been good for Yukimura to dwell over somebody who was unattainable.

(X)

Yukimura flicked the page of the book he was reading and turned the corner of the library. It was a pretty fascinating book, which led Yukimura to not notice the other person rounding the corner, until their heads collided. Yukimura fell backwards with a thump, as his book went flying and he heard the other person curse, in a familiar voice.

Yukimura looked up with a start and frowned a little, upon seeing Shiraishi there. “Kuranosuke...” he said, before he could stop himself and say his name in the more formal way. He quickly shut up and frowned a little more. It was more weakness than he’d ever wanted to show.

Shiraishi coloured a little, as he scrambled to his feet and offered Yukimura a hand up. “Seiichi.” he said, his voice a little chagrined. “I apologize, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was going too fast.”

“No, it was my fault. I was reading and walking.” said Yukimura, shaking the hand off, as he picked up his book and tucked it into his messenger bag.

“I see, if you say so.” Shiraishi glanced at him and there was a slightly awkward silence. “You want to go and grab a coffee, Seiichi?” he asked. “If you’re...free that is.”

Yukimura hesitated. Meeting with your ex without other people along was supposed to be a faux-pas, wasn’t it? Still, they had mutually split with no hard feelings and Yukimura was confident he wouldn’t fall for Shiraishi again. “Sure. I’m not busy.” he said, as he started to walk away towards the exit of the library.

Shiraishi fell into easy step next to him and for a moment, Yukimura felt it was like old times. They had both loved the library and the stories waiting to be told therein. But it wasn’t.

“How’s life been?” asked Shiraishi, when they exited the library and headed into the coffee shop across the street.

“The usual. The kids are as tiring as ever and my plants are doing well. Not much changed.” said Yukimura, as he tucked his hands into his pockets and glanced up at the coffee display. Mocha looked good. “You?” he asked, turning to glance at Shiraishi’s sharp face.

“I got a new job. I work at the night-club now, which is refreshing. And I...well, I got a new boyfriend.” he said, with a slight hesitation, as if he were expecting Yukimura to react unfavourably.

Instead, Yukimura beamed. It was nice to know that Shiraishi had moved on, it gave him more hope for finding someone that wasn’t tall, dark and stoic. “Who is it? Where’d you meet him? I want all the details.” he said, with a slightly anticipatory smirk, as he leant onto the counter and gave the barista his order.

Shiraishi looked slightly delighted as he too gave his order and they took a seat by the window. “His name’s Oshitari Kenya. Hospital intern by day, bartender by night.” he said, with a slight laugh. “I met him when I was getting into my new job. He’s very funny and sweet and takes life in the fast lane.”

Yukimura laughed. “Hence the speed-walking in the library?” he asked, as he fiddled with his scarf.

“Hence the speed-walking in the library.” confirmed Shiraishi, with a laugh. “I’ve gotten so used to matching his walking pace so he doesn’t leave me in the dust.”

“Shorter or taller?” asked Yukimura, with an amused look. Shiraishi was the sort who enjoyed thrills but took life at his own pace. It was somebody who was quite wrapped up in their speed who could change Shiraishi’s pace entirely.

“Shorter.” said Shiraishi, with a slightly bemused expression, as he leant back in his chair, his limbs sprawling everywhere.

“Are you just sure that you didn’t slow down?” teased Yukimura, with a slight laugh. “You are a tired-out old man.”

“If I’m old and tired, what does that make you when you’re slower than me; decrepit?” asked Shiraishi, with a slight twinkle to his eyes. Yanagi just protested Yukimura’s teasing but Shiraishi had always fought back. They had always been too similar, but they’d enjoyed the challenge in each other.

Tossing back his head, Yukimura laughed, lowly and softly. “He must be quite something, huh?” he said, with a small smile. “I’d tell you to introduce me, but I’m not sure that would go along too well.”

Shiraishi smiled, apprehensively. “Kenya’s possessive because he doesn’t think that I deserve to be with someone like him. It wouldn’t end very well for his self-esteem.”

Yukimura shrugged. “You should tell him that people often get more than they think they deserve.” he said, with a small sigh. “And people also get a lot less then they feel they deserve, too.”

“How wise. Did Yanagi-kun tell you that?” prodded Shiraishi, with a smirk.

“No, surprisingly. I managed to discover it on my own. Would you believe it?” asked Yukimura, with a short laugh, as the barista headed their way over and handed them their coffee. “Good things don’t always happen to bad people and bad things don’t just happen to good people, that’s what I learned with my illness. Life is complicated.” He took a deep sip of the coffee and let out a contented sigh as the heat ran through his throat into his stomach.

Shiraishi chuckled at Yukimura’s sigh. “You were always in a better mood after coffee. That’s why I brought you coffee when I wanted to go out and do something.” he said, with a small laugh. “Remember when I coerced you to go out to the Botanical Gardens and we got kicked out for PDA?”

“It was a cappuccino with three shots of coffee and whipped cream. How could I forgot?” teased Yukimura, as Shiraishi gave him a mock-angry look.

“You always were the most beautiful in gardens and happier with life.” said Shiraishi, with a soft glance and a languid sip of his drink.

Yukimura frowned and pulled himself a little tighter together, as if putting on his armour again. That was a low blow, when Yukimura had just started to relax in Shiraishi’s presence. “You’re doing Oshitari-san an injustice.” said Yukimura, firmly. “You shouldn’t relive old loves when you’re in love with someone else.”

“Why not?” asked Shiraishi, calmly. “Every time you fall in love, every single one, you change, and usually for the better. For all the things that people say about love being about accepting somebody for who they are, it’s also about compromises, and changing so you co-exist better. Love is a give-take thing. You made me a better person and I made you a better person. Why would I want to forget that?”

Yukimura paused a little, hiding it in another sip of coffee. It was profound, more than Yukimura really wanted to think about, when he’d spent the past four months trying to forget Shiraishi in every way. “Even stupid crushes?” he asked skeptically.

“Even stupid crushes.” said Shiraishi, with a laugh. “I told you about that crush I had on this one girl in the trance dance club, right? She was so out of my league, but I tried to change for her, and improved my dance skills for her. And even though she never noticed me, I improved and became a good enough dancer to snag someone more lasting.”

Yukimura pulled a face and took another sip of coffee. “My little sister had a crush on a fictional character. I don’t think that helped her in any way, except being delusional.” he argued.

Shiraishi gave a bemused laugh. “Some things never change, you never like to be wrong.” he said, as he placed his cup down. “But you have changed a little. You’re a lot more...not patient, you were always quite patient. But there’s something more anticipatory. It’s a good thing.” he reassured, upon seeing Yukimura’s slightly skeptical face.

“I’ll take your word for it.” said Yukimura dryly, as he crossed his legs and glanced out the window. It was a nice day. He wondered what Sanada was doing now, if he wasn’t with Akaya. Maybe Shiraishi was right. Everyone changed a little when they fell for people. He thought Shiraishi was wrong, maybe it was patience that he had gained.

But maybe it was also a detachment from it. He no longer had those days where everything reminded him of Shiraishi. Perhaps watching Sanada and Akaya from afar had allowed him to realize how to move on and keep living. It was a good thing to learn, really.

(X)

The sun was bright and the skies were clear. It was Obon and Yukimura was sure that the dead were celebrating with the living. If only he was Buddhist. Still, a national holiday was always fun and the carnivals were always worth a visit, if only to waste some time and money. It was the school holidays anyway, it wasn’t like Yukimura had anything to do but harass the art museum patrons, by pretending to be an employee.

So it was with an elaborate yukata that Yukimura cheerfully stepped out into Tokyo to celebrate the Obon. The parades were fun, but the real attraction was in the carnivals afterwards. Sometimes, Yukimura wondered what would happen if he just set up court himself, as a painter of caricatures and painted the scene of the busy carnival in his spare time.

It probably wouldn’t work, but it was an idea, to rid himself of boredom.

“Yukimura-sensei!” called a childish voice and Yukimura spun around, curiously, stopping in the middle of the jostling crowd. His eyes widened and he almost stepped back at the sight of Akaya in the arms of Sanada and his mother. The trio had, however, already spotted him and it would be pointless to just run away.

Instead, Yukimura plastered on his teacher’s smile and approached them, elbowing through a few people to reach the slight corner. where the crowd of people hadn’t quite invaded. “Hello Akaya-kun. Sanada-kun. Sanada-san.” he said, as he bowed towards the trio. The mother reciprocated and Sanada bowed, bringing a giggling Akaya with him.

“How are you enjoying your holiday, hmm?” asked Yukimura, with a soft eye-smile, directing his question to his student.

“It’s been really fun! Daddy won me a fish!” Akaya enthused, holding up a fish in a sack. Yukimura didn’t miss the fond look in Sanada’s eyes as he watched his son, which only unearthed more questions. “Do you like the festival too, Yukimura-sensei?” the curly-haired boy asked, with a curious look. Yukata didn’t really suit him, but he did look extraordinarily cute.

Yukimura smiled softly, as he folded his hands into his sleeves. “Obon is a very fun festival. Though, I must say, Tanabata will always be my favourite.”

“The tale of the separated lovers? Are you a romantic perchance, Yukimura-kun?” asked Sanada’s mother, with a slight smile.

Yukimura’s smile almost faltered at the slightly knowing look in her eyes, but he refused to get intimidated by something like that. Yanagi always used that and she was hardly a data master. What did she know, anyway? “I’ve been called that before, Sanada-san. But I never believed it myself.” he said, politely, as he nodded to her. “Tanabata’s festival is always a little more extravagant, that’s all.”

Akaya dropped out of Sanada’s arms and hugged Yukimura around the legs, which caught all three of the adults by surprise. “I miss being after-school with you, sensei.” he said, with a slight pout. “You’re really fun.”

Yukimura’s face softened a little and he ruffled Akaya’s curls fondly. “I’m still your teacher, you know. I see you every day. Come talk to me a little, hmm?” he asked, with a light smile.

Akaya pulled away from his legs and nodded eagerly, before turning to his grandmother. “Grandma, grandma, can we get some candyfloss?” he demanded, tugging on the edge of her kimono. “I’m hungry!”

Sanada looked like he was about to say something, but the other two almost immediately got swept up in the crowd, leaving Yukimura and Sanada alone. They stared at each other for a few seconds in silence, before hurriedly looking away. Yukimura had to resist the urge to flush.

Damn, but Sanada looked very attractive in the formal yukata. If he’d thought that Sanada had looked good in a suit, he looked even better in the traditional japanese wear, with the fabric pulling against his broad shoulders and the slight glimpse of his collarbones through the cloth....he wasn’t doing this. He was over with this man. Done. No matter what Shiraishi said about reliving past loves, it didn’t do Yukimura any good.

He licked his lips nervously and smiled blandly, again. The dreams had stopped. He didn't have any connection with him, anymore. “I’ll be going now.” he said, quietly as he raised a hand and made to leave.

“I took your advice.” said Sanada, hurriedly, his voice a little louder. “I talked to Akaya, for an hour or two. Just sat and talked with him. You were right. I didn’t know anything about him.”

Yukimura stopped and looked up, meeting Sanada’s gaze with a little surprise. What?

“I didn’t know about his friends, his feelings or even that he was one of the best in his class.” said Sanada, swallowing a little, his eyes looking deeply at Yukimura. “So I quit, the next day. It wasn’t right for me, I hated it. It was only ever for the money.”

“You...” started Yukimura with a slight frown, that smoothed out into a soft snort as the words properly registered. Assumptions made an ass out of you and me. Wasn’t that the english phrase that Yanagi liked to use sometimes? Data, data, data. “You never returned to the school. I assumed...”

Sanada’s eyes widened a little, and shook his head, as he crossed his arms across his chest, a deeper frown spreading across his face. Yukimura had to pull his eyes away from the sight he cut. “No, I couldn’t choose work. Akaya’s...Akaya’s my everything. Since his mother died...” he trailed off, with a slight sigh. “He’s my whole world. It’s just my job’s hours are right when it’s time to pick up Akaya from school, since I work for my brother’s dojo.”

Yukimura smiled sadly, and firmly planted his hands by his sides, rather than coming up to console him, like he would have done with anyone else. The dreams had stopped, and this was confirmation that Sanada was straight. He had to keep reminding himself of that. “I’m sorry for your loss. You must have loved her a lot.”

Sanada shrugged a little, his face a little wry. “It is rather difficult to love someone you only just met. We were friends.”

Yukimura nodded, as he realized what Sanada meant. “Omiai.” he said, like a cannon in the quiet. “You were arranged to marry.”

Sanada nodded once, as his eyes flickered to the candyfloss stalls where several families were trying to purchase sacks for greedy hands. “It was difficult to raise Akaya alone, he’s quite the handful. I would have appreciated her there. But then...I don’t think he would be my world, if she was still here.”

“Children can still be your world, even if you have a partner and even when you don’t.” said Yukimura, with a soft smile, as he adjusted his fan in his obi, as he watched Akaya pick up a bag and cheerfully munch on the sugary confectionary. “I’ve seen it often, both ways.”

Sanada turned to look at him, with something very hesitant. Yukimura turned around, after a few moments of feeling the stare out of his peripheral vision. “Yes?” he asked, delicately. He was a little disappointed that Sanada had become silent; that deep voice was still very affecting, even if Yukimura had removed all hope of getting Sanada to be his.

“That thing I was thinking, when I first met you.” Sanada said, shutting his eyes, with a deep frown. “It was that you looked like the most stunning person that I‘d ever met.”

Yukimura’s face froze a little as he turned to look at Sanada. “You really don’t trust my plants, do you?” asked Yukimura, faintly, with a slightly dry smile to deflect his feelings of shock and surprise for a moment. “How is this any more private, hmm?”

Sanada scowled a little at him. “There’s more anonymity in a crowd.” he said, with a slight frown. “That’s what my grandfather always said.”

Yukimura remembered that proverb, from a summer’s day that had never happened. Maybe it was fate, those dreams. Maybe it was a way to better understand the other man. He would have never wanted to get to know Sanada so much, had there not been the dreams. Sanada would have just been another attractive man.

This was evidence that Sanada wasn’t straight. Had Yukimura been imagining the mixed signals?

“So there is.” said Yukimura, with a slight nod. “In that case, I have an apology to make to you. I never meant to be quite so harsh towards you. I will not retract my words, but I never meant to harm. I can lose my temper, sometimes, when it comes to my kids.”

Sanada nodded, with a slightly wan smile and a wary look in his eyes. “I needed it, Yukimura-kun. I have been known to be stubborn without a reason or an instigation to change. but I accept your apology.”

“I’m not usually apologetic to parents of kids, for lecturing them.” said Yukimura, stepping a little closer, until only a couple of feet separated them. “But you were always an exception when it came to feelings towards parents.” he breathed, softly, as he pressed his hands to the front of Sanada’s yukata.

A part of him said this was a bad idea. But Shiraishi’s words came back to Yukimura, about how someone grew in character and in life experience when they were in love and that every experience was worth it. Sanada was not straight, Sanada was attracted to him and Akaya didn’t hate him. These were favourable signs. And Sanada wasn’t his whole world, he had distance from Sanada, and that was okay.

Sanada’s arms slipped around his waist, where they fitted snugly. The heat from Sanada’s skin felt comforting. “I suspected that it wasn’t protocol for a teacher to make dinner for a parent.” he said, slightly smugly.

“Just a little. But I’ve never been afraid to break the rules.” said Yukimura, with a slight smile, as he pressed up on his toes to press a soft kiss to Sanada’s lips. It wasn’t fireworks, like it had been with Shiraishi, but it was more like coming home, which was what Yukimura had needed most.

(X)

“Point, Yukimura. 40-15.” said Yanagi, with a slight confused look. Sanada, from the opposite side of the net, shot Yukimura a slightly pensive look and Yukimura smiled angelically as he twirled the racket between his hands.

“You’re sure you haven’t played this game before?” asked Sanada, as he fished another ball from his pocket and started bouncing it against the court.

“Once with Renji. But I never really liked the sport that much.” said Yukimura, with a slight laugh.

“Because you were very bad at it.” commented Yanagi, with a slight grimace.

Sanada tossed the ball up, in a serve that felt familiar. Yukimura judged that it would land by the baseline and he run back with a grin and lobbed it up, past Sanada’s head, where he’d ran for a serve-and-volley. If his dream-self was right about all these stupid tennis terms.

Sanada gaped as the ball rolled to a halt against the wall, where it had completely bypassed him. Yanagi grinned a little and hopped down from the umpire’s seat. “Game set, Yukimura, 6-3.”

Yukimura grinned cockily as he propped his racket over his shoulder and walked over the bench at the side of the court they’d booked. “Want to go again. Sanada?” he asked, cheerily.

In response, Sanada rolled his eyes and threw the remnants of his water bottle at Yukimura. Feeling a little bit of deja-vu from another life, Yukimura caught a few drops of water in his mouth, before drinking from his own water bottle. He snuck a little bit of a glance at Sanada towelling himself off; the slight glimpses of his very toned skin was always worth it.

“How are you that good, Seiichi?” asked Yanagi, as he adjusted his shirt and fanned himself a little.

“Beginner’s luck, I suppose.” said Yukimura, with a slight shrug. “Or Sanada’s just worse than you thought.”

“Sensei was way better than you, daddy!” said Akaya as he ran up to them, with a half-melted ice-cream in his hands and a pair of thick glasses perched on his nose. “Aren’t you supposed to be like 80.6% better?” he asked, with a smirk.

Yanagi plucked the glasses off Akaya’s nose with a slightly amused look and returned them to the rather confused looking Inui, who was following Akaya from outside of the court. Inui looked quite grateful to get them back, judging by the kiss that Yanagi got in return for his troubles.

“Yukimura-san, not sensei, remember?” corrected Yukimura, with a slightly sterner look as Akaya followed the glasses with a pout. “I’m only sensei in school.”

“I’d like to see you do better than me, Akaya.” said Sanada, gruffly, as he picked up Akaya, who was squirming to get away from Sanada, having recently realized that being picked up wasn’t cool. As he squirmed to get away and begged mercy, Yukimura laughed softly, his smile almost splitting his face in two.

“Oh!” said Akaya, with a slight pout. “The ice-cream..” he said, as he stared at the destroyed cone which had slipped out of his hand with his struggling.

“Shall we get you another cone, Akaya-kun?” asked Yanagi, with a small smile.

“Yeeah! And you and Inui-san can tell me more about the data!” said Akaya, as he took Yanagi and Inui’s hands, happily leaving Sanada and Yukimura behind.

Yukimura tossed Sanada an amused look, as he snuck his arm around the other man. “For someone who spends his whole day doing physical exercise, I’m surprised you didn’t turn the game into one of stamina.” he said, mildly.

Sanada pulled Yukimura closer, until Yukimura’s head was resting against Sanada’s collarbone. “I could have, but that wouldn’t have been fair to you. You only ran for sports in school...and you had that illness...not to mention, it’s too warm today.” said Sanada, with a small frown.

“Next time, you’d better play me properly.” said Yukimura, calmly. “Or, I might start thinking your stamina doesn’t exist in bed, either.”

Sanada just shook his head, with a slight smirk. “I think we proved that wasn’t the case last week.” he said, his voice dropping to the low timbre that always set Yukimura on edge.

“Well, I think we need a rematch on both fronts.” purred Yukimura, with a slight smirk.

“Quite.” said Sanada, as he leant down for a slightly charged kiss. Yukimura shut his eyes as he leant into it. Whether or not it lasted, he was enjoying it now.