Chapter Text
“This is the house that your grandfather inherited?” asked Yukimura, skeptically, as he looked up at the slowly decaying building.
Sanada pulled a face. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant sight to see, with rotting wood and smashed glass and huge piles of unswept leaves gathered everywhere. The doors were barely attached with only one hinge swinging creakily in the breeze and the metal had long since rusted to a sickly green and red. The grass outside was dying, yellow, matted and overgrown and swatches of ivy crept up the rotting walls.
“I would ask if this is a really a Sanada residence, but since there is no other house for another few kilometres, it’s hard to be wrong.” stated Yanagi with a sigh.
“It’s not so bad.” said Sanada, with a stern look. “It...just needs some paint.”
“It needs to be burnt to the ground and rebuilt, that’s what it needs.” said Yukimura dryly, as he adjusted the scarf across his face. “It’s a biochemical hazard waiting to happen.”
“Just take the pictures and then we can go and eat some takoyaki at Renji’s house this evening.” said Sanada crossly.
Yukimura placed the tripod down from where it was hoisted over his shoulder and pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “Outside view, back garden, front room, kitchen, bathrooms and bedrooms. Basically every room?” he asked, as he pulled out the camera from a snug bag and attached it to the stand.
“Not the tea rooms, or the showcase rooms.” explained Sanada from what he remembered of the original design of the house. “But yes, everything else.”
Yukimura laughed as he pulled out some film and inserted it into the camera. “Lots of work, I see.”
Sanada smiled apologetically, as he pulled his hat further down over his head. He would have done it himself, but his camera work was shoddy at best and blurry at worst. Yukimura, on the other hand, made every picture he took look like a work of art.
“Would you like to get in front of the camera and smile for your grandfather? Lord knows how rare that is.” teased Yukimura, as he knelt down to take the photo.
“Seiichi.” said Sanada warningly and Yukimura cracked a grin. Honestly, this was supposed to be a serious picture, not one of those purikura booths.
“Okay, let’s hope there isn’t a breeze for another thirty seconds.” Yukimura hummed, as he knelt by the camera.
“How long ago did you say that your great-uncle died, Genichirou?” asked Yanagi curiously, from where he was taking his own, less formal pictures, using the camera on his phone. He’d accompanied the excursion, since today had supposed to be one of their movie days, but had been upstaged by Sanada’s request. At least they could still spend some time together, before the entrance exam studying really hit them after the winter break.
“Hmm....Grandfather moved away from home around fifty years ago and then Great-Uncle died four years afterwards. Nobody looked after the house after that, because it belonged to Great-Aunt who moved away to Tokyo...” said Sanada, thinking aloud, as he pulled his scarf around his neck a little tighter. It was an old house and honestly, Sanada was surprised that the'd just left it alone for so long. It wasn't much like his family to just forget a house altogether.
Yanagi groaned. “It’s not just a biochemical hazard, it’s a building hazard. One false step and the building could collapse around us. Since it’s made of primarily wood and it’s had forty-six years of unchecked decay, there’s an almost eighty-five perfect chance of it collapsing while we’re inside.”
Sanada paled and Yukimura sighed, as he brushed back some of his blue-black hair. “That....is unfortunate. I feel a lot less eager about this venture, now.” he said, as he closed the shutter on his camera and picked it up again.
Sanada’s face turned sterner. “I won’t let grandfather down. He needs these photos. And besides, people have worked with worse odds. Fuji only had a five percent chance of winning when he was playing tennis blind and look how that turned out.”
Yukimura groaned and smacked Sanada’s shoulder. “Don’t remind me of your failure at the Kanto finals. The nationals disaster was bad enough. Kanto was supposed to have been ours.”
Yanagi frowned with a sigh, as he ignored Sanada's slight grumble of discontent and Yukimura's affronted scowl. “Very well. Let’s go, shall we?”
They waded their way through the thick grass, with Yukimura foisting off the tripod to Sanada halfway through, so he could focus on not tripping and falling and never being seen again through the thick grass. Finally, they reached the front door and Sanada started rummaging in his pockets for the keys.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Genichirou.” said Yanagi, as he poked the door slightly and it fell off the hinge altogether, with a large thump that sent up a cloud of dust.
Yukimura snorted lightly, and Sanada scowled. “Keep the house intact, would you, Renji?” he demanded, as he stepped over the wooden door.
“Heavens. And I thought that the outside of the house was bad.” Yukimura took his tripod from Sanada and placed it down in the living room. He had to viciously bat around his face to avoid the resulting dust cloud and coughed pathetically to get the residue out from his lungs. Yanagi just reached into his pocket and handed Yukimura a handkerchief, which he gratefully tied around his face.
“My fingers are fucking freezing.” said Yukimura, his voice somewhat muffled. “It’s far too cold for early October.”
“Once we’ve finished this, we can go get a hot coffee from the train station in Kanagawa.” said Sanada, as he shivered a little. He agreed with Yukimura’s sentiments, but being defeated by the cold wasn’t a Sanada thing to do. Now the smell on the other hand....
“Oh, we’d better.” said Yanagi, as he looked at some curtains, a disdainful look on his face, as he screwed up his nose. “Did something die in here, Genichirou?”
Sanada frowned. The smell was pretty awful, but not that bad...? “Not to my knowledge. Great-Uncle died in hospital and Great-Aunt’s in Tokyo. But probably some small animal took refuge here and died.” he said, as he knelt down to poke at some of the rotting tatami mats. He couldn’t see into the dark beneath, but there were probably a few rats there.
Yanagi frowned. “To make a smell like this, more than one small rodent or animal would have to die here...I make an estimate of around five, if the roadkill smells outside of town are any indicati--”
“Not to change the topic from dead animals or anything,” interrupted Yukimura, as he gingerly knelt down to take the shot, testing the ground he was leaning on. “But don’t you think this would be the perfect haunted house for the Halloween Location Party this year?”
Yanagi shook his head firmly, pulling away from thoughts of dead animals, quickly. “It’s out in the middle of nowhere, for one. And as creepy as it is, it’s also a disaster waiting to happen. This place is falling apart. Besides, Yagyuu hates haunted houses, you know that. And imagine if we let Niou loose in here.” Then he shuddered. “Or worse yet, Akaya.”
“There wouldn’t be a house left if Akaya was in here. He’s terrified of ghosts and he’d destroy everything in his fear.” said Sanada, with a frown, as he crossed his arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.
“No need to hire a demolition squad, just use Akaya! Free labour.” said Yukimura, with a wide grin.
Sanada couldn’t stop the smirk that touched his face at that. Yanagi didn’t bother and covered his laugh with his sleeve.
“Though...I can’t blame him. Imagine being stuck in this place when it’s dark out. The area around here is completely deserted as well.” Yanagi brushed a stray hair out of his face and tilted his head sideways.
“Nobody can hear you scream in this house...” said Yukimura, in a voice that sounded exactly like Darth Vader.
“Don’t say that!” Sanada snapped.
“Why? You afraid, Gen-chan?” asked Yukimura, as he turned around and did the thing where his eyes rolled back into his head completely. The first time that Yukimura had done that after the surgery, Sanada could have sworn his heart had beat so fast that it had gone out of his chest. His fury upon discovering it was just a joke had been so potent that he hadn’t talked to Yukimura for four whole days.
“Not of ghosts.” scoffed Sanada. Who was scared of ghosts? Nobody. (Apart from Akaya, but Akaya still believed in Santa.) “But of this place collapsing around you in the dark with no-one to help you, while you’re trapped under the wreckage of the house, paralysed? Yes, that terrifies me.”
Yukimura quieted, instantly. “Right.” he said, as he stood up and picked up the tripod. “I can see why.”
He set up the next photo in silence and Sanada shifted a little. He knew what Yukimura was thinking of and he almost wished that he hadn’t brought the topic up. It was easier to have Yukimura being teasing and inappropriate than to have a saddened and quiet Yukimura.
He was about to apologize when he heard a high-pitched laugh behind him. It sounded eerie, and vaguely evil, like nothing else he’d heard before.
“What was that?” Yanagi asked, as he looked around.
Yukimura’s eyes widened. “You heard it too?”
Sanada nodded, as he looked over his shoulder, scanning the dark corners of the house. “Me as well. It was...awful laughter. Like they were about to gut you alive.”
Nobody was scared of ghosts. Now, spirits which actually existed was another matter. Especially spirits that sounded like they wanted to gut people alive.
“There’s nobody else here.” said Yukimura, obviously forcing himself to breathe slower, as he laughed, shakily. “It was the wind rushing past a screen door. We’re just imagining things.”
“But...as you previously stated, it’s the perfect haunted house.” said Sanada, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair, his eyes not leaving the rotten wood plunged in darkness. “And we’re here now it’s turning dark, out in the middle of nowhere.”
“This isn’t a story, Genichirou.” said Yanagi firmly, as he buttoned his coat a little tighter. “We’ll be fine.”
Yukimura smiled and picking up his tripod again. “Bathroom. Lead the way, Genichirou. Before the light fades, or I’ll not be able to take any more pictures, I forgot my flash.”
Sanada nodded and lead the way, glancing around him nervously, looking for the slightest hint of something that wasn’t there. Were there spirit wards in this house? If there had ever been spirit wards here, they must have faded a long time ago; wards needed human presence or constant upkeep to endure.
But his friends seemed completely immune to Sanada’s worries. Yukimura knelt and took the photo quickly, adjusting the lense and focus, deftly. “You know, I’d be so lost with all these buttons if it weren’t for Fuji-kun.” said Yukimura, cheerfully. “He taught me how to do all of this.”
“Really?” asked Yanagi, with a look of surprise. “I thought you learnt it in art.”
“The class learned it, but I was in the hospital.” said Yukimura, with a laugh. “And none of the rest of you take Art, so I mentioned it to Fuji when I saw him in Tokyo the other day and he walked me through it.”
“Are you sure he taught you the correct procedure?” asked Sanada skeptically, pushing his fear aside, with one last look over his shoulder at the darkened rooms. “I mean, it is Fuji. Tezuka constantly has unprecedented shudders when we do homework together and his sole explanation is always Fuji.”
Yukimura giggled, lightly. “He really does that? I thought Fuji was exaggerating!” But he grinned as he straightened. “I thought he might be, so I developed a few photos after he showed me, and they were amazing.”
Sanada nodded. If the tricks did work after all, he didn’t mind. “As long as we’re clear on that.”
Yanagi snorted, lightly. “Clear.” At Sanada’s quizzical look, he elaborated. “...because they aren’t blurry...?”
“That was a stretch.” said Yukimura, as he followed Sanada to the first bedroom.
“But it did work.” said Yanagi, with a smirk. “It’s a work in progress yet. I’m still developing it.”
Yukimura laughed at that one and Sanada let out a long suffering sigh. Why did he have such irritating friends?
“Don’t be such a negative, Genichirou! We have to expose you to more of this humour or else you’ll never flash!” said Yukimura, barely containing giggles.
“Oh, stop it.” he grumbled, goodnaturedly. “Do you want me to drop your tripod, Seiichi?”
“They’re your pictures.” reminded Yukimura, with a sparkle to his eye.
“But it’s your camera.” said Yanagi, easily. “So we’ll stop for the sake of your parent’s money.”
Yukimura adjusted the camera with a dry laugh and he knelt down to take the picture again. “It’s not like they would care if I broke it. They just chuck their money at me and Minoru to make up for the fact that they’re always working.”
“You’re lucky.” said Yanagi, with a mildly irked sigh. “Mine can barely deal with tennis and tuition funds.”
Sanada felt a little awkward. He never knew what to say when his friends complained about their parents. His brother was...abnormal in many ways and Sasuke was always a pain in the neck, but other than that, he’d had a near-perfect home-life. But he was saved from saying anything as a howling screech came from behind them,
He shuddered and looked at Yanagi, whose lips had made a perfect o, but seemed to be trying to convince himself it was something else. “The winds didn’t make that, Renji.”
“The more you say it, the more you’ll believe it. The winds get more powerful, out in the middle of nowhere without buildings to cushion them, so they sound like monsters.” said Yanagi, firmly, as if to make himself believe it. “Let’s just do this quickly and go get some coffee. With whipped cream.”
“I’ll even pay for once, Genichirou. Won’t it be great?” said Yukimura, with a laugh, as he stepped a little closer to Sanada, handing him the tripod. “Back garden shot and then we can go back, right?”
Sanada nodded. “Yes, then we can leave.” And the quicker that happened, the better. Sanada felt all too uneasy about this place.
They walked out to the back-garden still shivering. Being inside or outside the rotting hulk of a house didn’t really make a difference. The grass in the backgarden was long and overgrown, and wove itself into such a thick green that Sanada couldn’t see through the grass, something that unnerved him a little. There were insects and probably snakes inside the grass, so Sanada kept his hand on Yukimura’s shoulder and the other around Yanagi’s elbow.
“Relax, would you?” asked Yukimura, with an annoyed look. “I was joking about the haunted house thing. I’m not going to break.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about snakes that could be waiting to attack.” said Sanada firmly, as he looked around the entire undergrowth. The brick wall that had once marked the territory of the house, had been partially toppled from the roots of a tree and the desolate remnants of brick and wood looked eerie. If he was silent enough, he could hear the wind whistling through the trees restlessly, creating a sound like a constant stream of whispered words. Or was it just the trees?
....okay, so he was a little worried about what was making those noises, but even if it was a spirit, what could he do about it? Wave the tripod at it? It was dead. He couldn’t do much. Not without salt.
“There’s only a 26% chance of there being snakes. You can relax, Genichirou.” said Yanagi, with an amused glanced as he slowly removed his elbow from Sanada’s grip.
Yukimura crouched down by the camera and started the exposure, much to Sanada’s discomfiture. The hairs on the back of his neck were on end and his heart was beating just a little too fast in his chest. “You know, Akaya was complaining about us not stepping down for him. I don’t want to stop playing tennis yet, but do you think I should hand over leadership, so he’ll have more time to experience it, like Seigaku’s Kaidoh and Hyotei’s Hiyoshi?”
“I don’t think we should completely abdicate and even if we tried, it wouldn’t happen.” said Sanada, with an amused grin, trying to fight off the sense of not-right that pervaded the overgrown garden. “He would still call you buchou.”
Yanagi nodded, as he adjusted his hat. “That’s correct, Seiichi. I would suggest that you stay until the winter break, and then let Akaya start trying to be a leader.”
The blue-haired boy nodded and stood up. “There do–”
His voice was cut off as he shuddered and took a few steps back, almost knocking Sanada down. He clutched his chest and breathed hard, his eyes wide. Sanada gripped his shoulders tightly and Yanagi almost teleported to Yukimura’s side. “Seiichi...” Yanagi breathed.
“Fine, fine.” said Yukimura, clutching onto both Yanagi and Sanada for support as he pulled himself a little more upright. “Something cold just....” he trailed off and frowned into the undergrowth. “Call me stupid, but it felt like somebody just walked over my grave. But it was just a breeze....”
“You took the photo, right?” said Sanada and at Yukimura’s nod, he hoisted the tripod over his shoulder effortlessly. “Renji, help Seiichi if he needs it. We are getting out of here, now.” His senses of danger were flickering like mad and he knew that his brother would have yelled at him, long before this point.
Yanagi nodded skeptically, but the three of them swiftly marched out of the deserted house, ignoring the plumes of dust that emerged around them from their firm steps through the thick coating of dust on the floor. As they turned down the road, Sanada looked back for a moment. “Good riddance.” he muttered, but he froze a little and sped up, upon seeing something inside the house moving.
“It’s getting dark, we might have to run for it.” said Sanada grimly, as he turned to his two friends.
“It’s fine, it’s only five-thirty.” said Yukimura, looking relaxed and calm again, away from the shadow of the ruined house. “Coffee then takoyaki at your house, Renji?” he asked, cheerfully. “Bloody hell, my hands are freezing!”
Sanada didn’t really want to drop the topic of running, but both Yanagi and Yukimura looked content to pretend they hadn’t visited the house. “Okay, it sounds good.” said Sanada, with a stern look. “And you should have brought gloves!”
“I needed to take pictures without them.” defended Yukimura, as he scrunched up his nose, upon pulling away the handkerchief from his face.
“Yes, but you could have worn them after and before taking the pictures.” pointed out Yanagi, with an amused smirk, as he adjusted Yukimura’s scarf for him in lieu of the handkerchief.
“Oh hush!” said Yukimura, with an embarrassed grin, as he tucked his hands into his pockets.
“About the pictures, when can I give them to grandfather?” asked Sanada, curiously, trying to match the casualness of his friends, despite his heartbeat still trying to outrun a mouse and the vague lingering scent of the musty house in the air.
“Maybe....three days, I think. Three days is the fastest I can develop all of them around tennis and schoolwork.” said Yukimura, with a grin. “Good thing today’s Sunday, huh?”
“Did you do your maths homework like you said you would on Friday?” asked Yanagi and Yukimura groaned in remembrance.
“Scratch that, make that four days, Genichirou.”
Sanada shook his head, with amusement, as they crunched their way through the piles of dead leaves that scattered the country road. “Tarundoru, Seiichi.”
“Don’t you tarundoru me!” said Yukimura, thwapping Sanada’s arm, with mock irritation.
“When you are being irresponsible, I can always tarundoru you!” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Oh really now?” asked Yukimura, a glint in his eyes that only spelled trouble. Sanada gulped, held the tripod tighter and started to sprint off into the distance to avoid any sort of retribution.
“Help me get him, Renji!” yelled Yukimura, and Sanada’s gait only increased. Thank god he did extra laps every day. Still, the combined power of Yukimura and Renji, tackled him to the ground eventually, until they were panting with laughter and holding each other down against the crackling leaves.
Life was good.