Nori & Pez say: plz to write little Yuki

[pez]

[I changed my status message to "Yukibrat"]

Nori: yes, yuki is a brat. 8D

Pez: Yes. 8D
He probably used to cause a lot of mayhem when he was little

Nori: I would not be surprised :D
I want little yuki fic :(
with his giant eyes and lack of a body

Pez: me too :(

Nori: I will see what I can do >>
you write one

Pez: poor Yuki, born with only eyes and ears

Nori: and I will write one
haha yes

Pez: you write one

Nori: but at least we know Dan will grow up to be hot
we both write one
because I always find it amusing how differently people take the same exact idea. 8D

Pez: wait
you mean we both write one of little Yuki, or write one of a Yuki who was born with only eyes and ears?

Nori: both write one with little yuki
which by association means with only eyes and ears.
...*bought a notebook this morning specifically for fic*

Pez: heeee
but it's no fun if it's just us

Nori: go
LJ it
:D
"PLZ TO WRITE LITTLE YUKI"


And so it is, that Nori and I ask you to join us in "PLZ TO WRITE LITTLE YUKI". I suppose length doesn't matter. Just write something about little Yuki.

Hands up?

Comments

[xiu]

He was five years old the first time he laid hands on a tennis racquet. He'd been a small, skinny boy with limbs growing far too fast for his body to keep up; the adult-sized racquet was nearly half as tall as he was. It had been some older cousin - a first year in junior high, aiming to join the tennis club - that had first introduced Yukimura Seiichi to the wonderful sport of tennis.

It had been that same cousin, whom after countless hours of being followed by the small boy begging to play too and bawling his eyes out when he lost or had to stop had convinced his aunt and uncle to allow Seiichi to take lessons and buy him his very first (child-sized) tennis racquet.

If it were possible for a boy to love a material object so much, it was Seiichi and his racquet. He had it with him every waking hour he possibly could - batting a ball clumsily against the back of the house or at the special club his parents took him to to learn how to play even better - he would've even slept with his racquet had his mother not vetoed that idea on the very first night ("No way you're sleeping with that filthy thing.")

As much as he loved his racquet, tennis was not something someone could play by themselves. School and tennis practice took up more and more of his cousin's time and soon, it was rare he was able play anyone except the few boys that took tennis lessons with him (who in his opinion all sucked). It wasn't until one afternoon in mid-summer did any of this change - a new boy had moved to the area and begun taking lessons at the same time.

Seiichi thought the boy looked funny, with his weird haircut and helicopter-hat perched backwards on his head ("It helps with aerodynamics." The boy had said when he'd asked about the hat - Seiichi didn't know what 'aerodynamics' were, but he figured if they helped, why not.). He wasn't just weird-looking, he acted weird too; any time he began to laugh or smile he immediately cut himself off and put on a scary face that didn't quite reach his eyes (they looked scared, not scary.)

The boy did, however, seem to love tennis just as much as he did - he was the only other boy in their class that put in every ounce of effort he could muster into the game; unlike the other boys who only seemed to be there so their mommies could watch them loaf around. There were even times during those walks with his very round mother Seiichi saw him out at the park by himself, hitting a worn out ball against a high wall.

It was no wonder the two became such fast friends, his mother said. They were both completely nuts about a sport most boys their age wouldn't even think to play; they were both equally stubborn and hardworking; they both wanted to be the very best.

It was, she thought, a good thing for her son to have a friend like Sanada Genichirou.

Tennis wasn't such a lonely sport anymore. Seiichi didn't have to wait for the week to slowly drag by for his lesson on Saturday to play anymore; now it was as simple as a "Momma, I'm going with Gen-chan!", a two-block run and the push of a doorbell. He didn't have to keep beating all those boring, useless boys; Genichirou was a challenge every time.

Today, a makeshift dirt tennis court behind the local grocery; tomorrow, the world.

[yuki-scorpio.livejournal.com]

Tennis-baka, both of them. ♥