fantasyland

Harsh light across his eyes forces Yukimura to open them, and he makes to get up and close the curtains, but a tightness holding fast across his chest makes that unviable for now. For just the tiniest second, the way his body won't bend to his will scares him with cold familiarity, but it's easy to set aside once he actually sees what's going on.

There's a red mop clinging to him, and all of its limbs are, too. For a minute, the coziness weighs on his eyelids, but the ever bubbling-under panic about Himawari gives him the strength to reach the baby monitor on the bedside table.

And it shows such a vision of a serene sleeping angel that Yukimura really can't fight the warmth of the surprise snuggle. It is not what he expected to follow last night's... well, that was warm, too, in the same way that the boy was a 'good' tennis player. The technical truthfulness didn't fully express the understatement.

But this was... extra. Unforeseen. Yukimura was used to things getting hot and heavy between friends-- even when nothing came of it, looks passed, thoughts were had. It was the softness that was different. The way the heat cooled but didn't die. His occasional rendezvous with Atobe gave them a fonder tolerance for each other, but Marui was giving him every impression right now of never letting go.

And it wasn't wholly unwelcome to him. This wasn't a bad way to wake up. Even if last night had just been a hard collapse after a long day, this... would have made it worth it. This little enclosure where Yukimura felt oddly cherished. Where admiration wasn't distant and impersonal, but real and present. Where he could feel it and let it kindle something reciprocal in him.

The baby monitor was on, the children could wake them if they needed to. Yukimura just wanted to enjoy this as long as it lasted.

There are multiple avenues Yukimura can take.

The coaches are one. Put his thumb on lever for Marui to get his chance-- but Marui wouldn't want that, he doesn't think.

He doesn't want to approach Kimijima, mainly because he doesn't want to be in his debt.

And it would be a little hypocritical, he realizes, to swoop in and bend the future to his will. Hypocritical and not at all disproving of Marui's point.

But it angers Yukimura, and what angers Yukimura only lasts as long as it takes to bend the future to his will. It is, simply, what he does. Nothing is unconquerable (Seigaku's day of reckoning is coming), so long as he gets in front of it.

So Yukimura finds himself in front of Marui's room. He's already made sure of his roommate's whereabouts, made sure he has time enough to take control of the situation around his boyfriend.

He knocks as a warning and not for permission, giving just enough time to be noticed as he opens the door and pokes his head in.

And his determination is cut by a smile when he sees Marui.

"Let me come in for a while."

There was a crowd of younger students milling about the club room. There were always a few nowadays, trying to work up the courage to ask Yukimura for help or guidance, but because he'd been gone so long and accomplished so much (and a host of other reasons besides), most of them were too intimidated to actually go through with it.

Jackal was approached by a few; the crowds were thicker because they'd begun to realize that Yukimura wouldn't be around much longer, and the chances to act were becoming less with each day. But none of them had the same fears with Jackal or Bunta, and that was gratifying, in a way. Jackal was confident enough in himself to say that most of the questions were well within his level of expertise. About the only thing he couldn't advise on was actually being a Captain.

Tamagawa would have to go direct to the source for that one. He was in the little crowds more often than not-- Yukimura always acknowledged them with a smile, then went back to whatever he was working on. Jackal was focused on the second years, but he could hear Yukimura's pen tapping against a notebook-- not writing. He supposed their line-ups could be more eclectic than, say, Seigaku's, but it shouldn't have been too difficult to place them all against Hyoutei. The main problem was that the regulars were a man down, with Niou away, but the eighth man would have just been the alternate, right? They'd played almost the entire year without one.

Another look around at all the second years, though... Most of them were good. But they'd started out good. Few of them had improved in the leaps and bounds Akaya had, or even Seigaku's second years. The difference between Momoshiro's failed power plays against him and Bunta, versus the Shitenhouji pair...

Of course, Tamagawa hadn't been ready to play in any of those matches, but who's fault was that? He'd watched them all, Jackal believed; they expected the non-regulars to do their part, keep up morale, and pay strict attention.

But the mindset of being in the audience was different than the focus possible when you knew there was even a chance of getting into a game. Confidence became a necessity.

If Yukimura stuck his jacket on somebody's racket and named it next year's captain, Jackal would have supported him wholeheartedly-- Yukimura and the jacket both. But, there would be questions. Yukimura was the captain, yes, but if Jackal's private anguish over his illness was any indication, they were friends, too. He hadn't questioned the decision to pass over Akaya as captain, and he understood the reasoning for Tamagawa... but they'd set him up for failure. And Yukimura seemed to be mired in thought over this silly little exhibition, which was nothing more than an exercise in vanity for them and Atobe both.

He waited until the first year in front of him was satisfied with his answers, then approached Yukimura and glanced down over his shoulder. Written in the notebook (surrounded by increasingly unflattering doodles of Atobe and Echizen) was just SINGLES 1 - AKAYA.

He took a deep breath, which Yukimura heard, and met with one of his sweeter smiles.

"Something on your mind, Jackal?"

"Just what's on yours," he answered. He nodded at the notebook. "You're really playing Akaya against Atobe?"

"It's where he belongs," Yukimura said. A little gleam of mischief in his eyes suggested there was more to it than that, but he didn't elaborate.

"It's where you belong," Jackal said. "Isn't it?"

Yukimura drew an X over a particularly smug looking Echizen (and his "TENNIS IS FUN!" speech bubble). "It was."

So Yukimura's thoughts were also on the future.

Jackal took a second deep breath, watching the way Yukimura's eyebrows rose in amusement at it. He expected the second years to be nervous, not Jackal.

"I was wondering who you were using as an alternate."

Yukimura laid the pen aside, folding his hands together and giving Jackal his undivided, almost rapt, attention. Jackal didn't usually ask about such things before Yukimura was ready to reveal them; he was, more often than not, content to follow his part in the plan. Yukimura knew where he liked to be and, more importantly, where he shined. Jackal trusted Yukimura to use him well, efficiently, all in service of Rikkai's third--

Jackal felt himself smile, improbably, waiting for Yukimura's answer.

"If I put one of us in reserve, we'd be short," Yukimura said, humoring him. Yukimura knew how to use him best, and was setting the stage for him while Jackal gathered his thoughts. "I'm not giving Atobe a free match."

The best player wasn't always the best captain, but Yukimura was. Yukimura saw things as they were, like anyone, but he also had a special knack for seeing things as they might one day be. The future was more real to him than it was to anyone else, and it was exciting, the way he'd started to try and bend it to his will during the World Cup.

"You're also not going to underestimate Atobe," said Jackal, taking a roundabout way to the point he was ultimately going to make. "We aren't invincible. We might need to hold someone in reserve."

There. He'd spoken the blasphemy, and felt a pang of regret as the shadow passed across Yukimura's face. Hurting Yukimura was the thing absolutely no one did, but Yukimura would see clearly.

"No, you're right about that," said Yukimura, slowly. He didn't know where Jackal was going, and he wasn't really smiling anymore, just listening. "I ask again. What's on your mind?"

The future, Jackal thought, but not his own. And yet his own future was the only one he could really control. He couldn't ask Yukimura to bench anyone else; it wouldn't be right, or fair to them.

"I think I should be the reserve player," he said, getting it out of the way. "And we should have the new captain play in this match."