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thislife_is_beautiful) wrote2010-11-21 04:40 pm
thislife_is_beautiful) wrote2010-11-21 04:40 pm
Entry tags:
{WIP} Scattered all over the globe
Characters: Atobe, Yukimura (will have Tezuka and Sanada eventually)
Rating: PG...for now
Summary: The reality of growing up
It all begins easily enough. Atobe shows up without notice to one of their last practices senior year. He says nothing (which is terribly out of character for him), just leans against the benches like he owns the places and watches. Yukimura ignores him, Sanada grumbles, and Renji scribbles something in his notebook.
“You know why he’s here,” Yukimura states softly as he watches Akaya run through drills with the first years.
“Considering the offer he extended to Tezuka last week, it is not hard to offer a theory,” Renji replies.
Yukimura is about to ask Yanagi how he knows such things, but then he remembers the other best friend that reeks of chemicals and readjusts his headband. “What do you think?”
“I think you should accept it,” Yanagi replies evenly. “You will need the capital and exposure in order to start competing at the professional level. My estimates put it at about 2 million yen. He can give you that.”
Yukimura nods as he pulls out his racket and calls Sanada over. “Then I’ll do it.”
Yanagi offers him the smallest of smiles. “Good luck convincing Genichirou to do the same.”
--
Two years later, and Atobe still thinks he ‘owns’ him. Yukimura could point out that Atobe Enterprises contributes to less than a third of costs now, and that technically, if anyone had to ‘own’ him, it would be Nike.
And oh, how they loved him. They had made more than a mint mass-producing his signature headband. Yukimura could hardly understand the appeal, but half the profits went to charities that helped children with Myasthenis Gravis so he did not dwell on it often.
“You win again Seiichi,” Atobe tells him over dinner in Rome. He is looking at him much like one would examine a prized race horse, and Yukimura fights the urge to roll his eyes.
“You should not be surprised Keigo,” he answers calmly, reaching his wine glass. “Especially due to the lack of competition. It was almost boring.”
Genichirou was home for the week for his nephew’s birthday; Kunimitsu had to take every other tournament off due to his shoulder; Akaya still couldn’t make the cut.
Their food comes, and Atobe is still staring at him. “What did you think of my match Keigo?”
Atobe smirks, and Yukimura knows his answer will be less than satisfactory. “It bored me.”
Yukimura wants to bite back a laugh. Of course it had; it had been over in a whole thirty minutes.
“It is a minor tournament.” What did you expect? “Why are you here?”
“The company likes me to keep track of my investments.”
Yukimura raises an eyebrow at that. “I would think there is another investment you would much rather spend your precious time with.”
“He is resting his shoulder. To visit would be....counterproductive.”
Rating: PG...for now
Summary: The reality of growing up
It all begins easily enough. Atobe shows up without notice to one of their last practices senior year. He says nothing (which is terribly out of character for him), just leans against the benches like he owns the places and watches. Yukimura ignores him, Sanada grumbles, and Renji scribbles something in his notebook.
“You know why he’s here,” Yukimura states softly as he watches Akaya run through drills with the first years.
“Considering the offer he extended to Tezuka last week, it is not hard to offer a theory,” Renji replies.
Yukimura is about to ask Yanagi how he knows such things, but then he remembers the other best friend that reeks of chemicals and readjusts his headband. “What do you think?”
“I think you should accept it,” Yanagi replies evenly. “You will need the capital and exposure in order to start competing at the professional level. My estimates put it at about 2 million yen. He can give you that.”
Yukimura nods as he pulls out his racket and calls Sanada over. “Then I’ll do it.”
Yanagi offers him the smallest of smiles. “Good luck convincing Genichirou to do the same.”
--
Two years later, and Atobe still thinks he ‘owns’ him. Yukimura could point out that Atobe Enterprises contributes to less than a third of costs now, and that technically, if anyone had to ‘own’ him, it would be Nike.
And oh, how they loved him. They had made more than a mint mass-producing his signature headband. Yukimura could hardly understand the appeal, but half the profits went to charities that helped children with Myasthenis Gravis so he did not dwell on it often.
“You win again Seiichi,” Atobe tells him over dinner in Rome. He is looking at him much like one would examine a prized race horse, and Yukimura fights the urge to roll his eyes.
“You should not be surprised Keigo,” he answers calmly, reaching his wine glass. “Especially due to the lack of competition. It was almost boring.”
Genichirou was home for the week for his nephew’s birthday; Kunimitsu had to take every other tournament off due to his shoulder; Akaya still couldn’t make the cut.
Their food comes, and Atobe is still staring at him. “What did you think of my match Keigo?”
Atobe smirks, and Yukimura knows his answer will be less than satisfactory. “It bored me.”
Yukimura wants to bite back a laugh. Of course it had; it had been over in a whole thirty minutes.
“It is a minor tournament.” What did you expect? “Why are you here?”
“The company likes me to keep track of my investments.”
Yukimura raises an eyebrow at that. “I would think there is another investment you would much rather spend your precious time with.”
“He is resting his shoulder. To visit would be....counterproductive.”