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“I’m not participating.”
Yanagi sighed. “You do know that he wants you to.”
“I’m not participating.” Sanada growled once again, his patience waning.
“He’ll be upset.”
“He’ll deal with it.”
“Why does he have to? He asks you - in person I might add - every year and you brush him of. Why? It’s not like we haven’t seen your body during Rikkai Dai outings, so where is the real problem situated? Because I am not falling for just ‘no’ this time.”
The next growl ended in a sigh. “I’m not fond of presenting a pin-cushion, especially not to him.”
“Don’t you mean scar-cushion?”
“Renji!”
“Alright. Alright. But, really, you need to be more calm about this. First of, he knows every single scar personally.” Another growl. “I did not say intimately, so back off. Second, there is a magnificent tattoo that covers - according to the artist - the most beautiful canvas he ever had the fortune to work with. So there really is nothing you have to hide. Besides, oyabun has - I suspect due to your well-being - announced that this year only the former members of the tennis club are allowed to join. Even the food will be there before us and Niō and Yagyū have graciously decided to ‘play’ waiters for the evening. Now, please be a nice wakagashira and join the damn birthday party!”
Sanada wanted to growl again but there really was no arguing all those points. Especially not if oyabun had gone to so much trouble just for him.
The world really wasn’t fair.