senseskill posting in
synergeticMoonlight filters in through his bedroom window. From where he lay in a sprawl across his bed, he can feel the faintest breeze across his cheeks. He ought to be sleeping, but instead finds his mind swimming.
It's funny, in a miserable sort of way. No blind spots was his motto, and he practiced it to great effect in tennis. Somehow, though, he had missed a gaping one right in front of his face. To think that all this time, Sanada...
He turns over on his back and rests his wrist on his forehead, staring up and straight through the ceiling. The curse of words never spoken until it was too late... It wasn't even that this changed anything, not between him and Sanada and not between him and Flayn. All it did was open his eyes to a road not taken, and leave him wondering where he missed the fork.
Should he have paid more attention? How many years had he spent with Sanada always right beside him, through even the darkest days of his life, and always too wrapped up in himself to see the effects on him? First with the tennis club, now with this. It was his responsibility as Sanada's friend to see, and Sanada rightfully was drifting to someone who could do a better job of that. Something about that thought makes his chest feel tight.
Could it have been? Probably not. Sanada placed heavy expectations on himself, that would doubtless apply to his dating life, too. Even if he wanted it, even if his family gave their blessing, Sanada himself would consider the only correct choice marriage to a woman and children. That must have been why he never said anything, too. This afternoon truly was just a clearing of conscience for him.
That thought, too, bothers Yukimura deep down. Sanada was entitled to his selfishness this time burdening him with this information, and he was entitled to his decision against ever pursuing it, but where had his chance to weigh in been? What if this had been something he wanted, too? What if-- and this is the most troubling thought of all-- it actually had been something he wanted too at some point, and he was as blind to his own feelings as he had been to Sanada's? Today had proven more than enough that even now he couldn't stand the thought of life without Sanada at his side.
Water under the bridge, but it doesn't make the current any quieter.
He's given himself a stomachache. With a sigh, Yukimura gets up and fetches a glass of water for himself. As he passes the mirror on the return trip, he pauses and gets lost in the reflection staring back. He's not really looking at himself, more that vacancy by his shoulder. It's disturbing how easily his eyes can fill it with Sanada's shape.
But there's another one he sees, too, and her petite frame isn't out to the side but reclined serenely against his front, her eyes and smile radiant enough to brighten the whole room. Rather than tightness, it's a light and fluttery feeling she inspires. He longs to hold her now.
It puts his mind at ease. That image was how it should be. He and Sanada each had to learn to make room for the one that made their hearts light and full, but it didn't mean they'd have no room left for each other. They would always be best friends.
He crawls back in bed, and within a few minutes has drifted into a peaceful slumber.