Chapter Text
The next two weeks went by in a blur. Just like Satoru knew it would be, him and Eijun’s relationship was wonderful. Nothing much changed, except now that they went on dates, kissed, hugged, held hands… it was like before, but better.
Just because they were dating, their rivalry didn’t go away. In fact, it might have even made it better, more exciting. Even with the new feelings, they still competed over everything, bickered, laughed, and had fun together. It was hard to explain, but they just seemed to fit, despite that they were opposites in almost every way, like the sun and moon.
It was still hard for Satoru to believe sometimes that Eijun, so kind and warm and wonderful, liked him back. Thinking back to the start, when he’d first met his neighbour that made him want to hide and run away from him, it was incredible how things turned out this way.
Satoru had never felt happier before.
But there was only one thing that could make him the happiest.
The first week of August, Satoru sat in the waiting room, sweating and more nervous than he’d ever been. Each time he had one of these appointments, he was filled with endless hope, only to be crushed each time.
Each time, he wondered, is this it? Is this the time he was finally recovered enough?
He’d done everything he was supposed to over the last few months, he’d rested, he’d did his physical therapy, he’d stretched, he’d iced his shoulder, even when it no longer swelled, and all he needed was the proof of progress, the clear so he could play baseball again, so he could restart his life, make a name for himself in not only Wakatsuki, but going toward the future, too. A name that wasn’t Monster Rookie. A name that wasn’t shadowed under the news of his high school injury. A new life in baseball.
When his name was called, Satoru went to the doctor’s room, his legs shaky, his hands trembling, gripping onto his pant legs.
This was it.
At least, for now.
He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait again if this visit didn’t go well.
Taking in a deep breath, Satoru sat and waited.
His doctor, the same doctor he’d been working with the whole time who knew his whole story, his progress, and who consulted with his coach, looked at him with a friendly smile as she brought up the scans taken of his shoulder and arm.
“I’m really busy today,” Doctor Mori said, “so I’ll make this quick and get straight to the point.”
Satoru stared at her, nodding once, trying to suppress how much he was trembling.
“It’s looking good, Satoru,” she said with a smile.
Satoru let out the breath he’d been holding, his whole body buzzing with adrenaline.
“Really?” he was leaning forward so far he stumbled, catching himself on the bench he was sitting on.
“Yes,” Doctor Mori agreed. “In my professional opinion, we can lift your ban on pitching.”
Satoru’s heart raced. This was it. This was it. Finally.
His heart soared, his smile brightened, nothing else existed but this room, these words, this moment, the moment he’d been waiting for for months.
“But,” Doctor Mori added, “we will have to put limitations on you to start out with. We can’t have you going out with none. We’ll start by letting you pitch a little bit at a time, with a lot of breaks. I’ll also consult with your coach and catcher to be sure that you pitch in the right way, changing the amount of stress you put on the specific joint. Understood?”
“Understood,” Satoru breathed out, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“Good,” Doctor Mori smiled, reaching over to shake Satoru’s hand. “I’ll be sure to send your scans over to the coach and the other doctor at your school, so together we can decide on your limitations.”
Satoru nodded, feeling like his eyes were glazed over, like this was a dream he’d wake up from.
He could barely stand up when the appointment was over.
“I’m very happy for you, Satoru,” the doctor said, kind, gentle, and she led him out of the room.
His legs trembled then as he found his way out of the building, moving towards the bus stop.
He got on the bus in a daze, his mind racing. He could play. He could pitch. Finally, finally. He could once again see the view from the mound. The view of the catcher’s mitt. The sound when the ball hits the glove, striking out his opponents.
The feeling he’d yearned for, his passion, he didn’t have to wait anymore, because that moment was here.
He stood up, holding onto the railing, and he was sure he was smiling more than he’d ever smiled before, because people were looking at him weirdly.
But Satoru didn’t care.
All he wanted to do was pitch. He couldn’t wait until the next baseball practice.
And now, and now, he could compete with Eijun for real.
Eijun…
Satoru pulled his phone out of his pocket, calling a familiar number.
Eijun picked up almost immediately.
“Hey, what’s up? How was your appointment?” Eijun’s voice was eager, curious, and Satoru’s hand shook, just as excited to tell Eijun as he had been to hear the news himself.
“I can play again,” he said.
“What?” Eijun said. “Speak louder, Furuya, I can’t hear you!”
“I can pitch again,” Satoru said, louder. “The doctor said it was okay.”
“What!?” Eijun’s voice was loud, almost screaming into his ear, but he didn’t care, he barely flinched. “Are you serious!? Where are you!?”
“I’m on the bus,” Satoru said.
“Got it!” Eijun’s loud, excited voice exclaimed before he hung up. Satoru blinked down at the phone.
That had been a shorter call than he’d expected.
Was Eijun going to meet him somewhere?
He stared at his phone, realizing that he had one more call to make…
His grandpa had been just as happy for him. He’d praised him, wishing him luck, and Satoru was happy, hoping he could make his grandpa proud. His first game back, he hoped his grandpa would come and see him, too.
When the bus pulled into Satoru’s stop, he hurried off of it, his legs still feeling like gelatin. But when he exited, he was surprised to see Eijun standing there, at the bus stop, a wide grin on his face.
Satoru walked to him. “Eijun?”
Eijun ran up to him, throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him.
Melting into it, Satoru kissed him back, his arms wrapping around Eijun. Even though he was slightly taller than Eijun, he didn’t have to bend down that much.
Sparks went off in his brain just like every time they’d shared a kiss.
The kiss, the wonderful kiss, Satoru could feel it was full of enthusiasm, Eijun was happy for him, just like he knew he would be.
When they pulled apart, Satoru caressed Eijun’s cheek with a smile.
“You can pitch,” Eijun said, his grin widening. “You can finally pitch again!”
“Yeah,” Satoru beamed.
“That’s the best news ever!”
Eijun pulled Satoru off to the side, away from the other people boarding the bus, and he leaned over and kissed him again.
Satoru would stay here and kiss him all day if possible.
But Eijun pulled away again after a moment. “Congratulations, Satoru,” Eijun breathed.
Satoru stilled as his eyes grew wider.
Eijun had never…
Upon realizing, Eijun’s face reddened up to his ears. “Oh… oh… I didn’t mean to… but it’s okay, right? Is it?”
Satoru’s heart fluttered with millions of butterflies. “It is. I like it.”
It was his turn to kiss Eijun. And then again. And again.
They were in the park later. Eijun held a bat. Satoru held a ball.
It was just practice, and he knew he had limitations, but pitching a couple of balls at Eijun shouldn’t be a problem this time.
Eijun kept nagging him the whole time they were walking to pitch to him, but it wasn’t like he needed much convincing.
He pitched one ball, and then another, and Eijun failed to hit both times.
“Grrr!” he groaned, though with an excited smile. “I knew you’re too good! Your pitches are just like a runaway train, huh?”
Satoru blinked, frowning. “A runaway train? That doesn’t make me happy.”
Eijun laughed, moving towards Satoru, placing a hand on his chest. “But you are happy, aren’t you?”
Satoru gazed at him, not even needing to think about it.
His pitching.
Baseball.
Eijun.
The future.
“Yeah… I really am.”
The air was thick, heavy, burning. Too hot. Satoru wiped a line of sweat from his forehead, blinking in the light of the sun shining down on him.
The crowd cheered for him. He took a step forward on the mound.
One runner on second. Two outs.
Flames moving up Satoru’s arms, a flame so intense that he found it hard to control.
The flames moving to his fingertips, waiting for Miyuki’s signal.
In the batter’s box stood Eijun.
Eijun who was grinning, a smile he knew was for him, and just for him.
The adrenaline was pumping through Satoru’s veins.
He knew Eijun was feeling the same things he was.
Excitement coursed through Satoru's nerves, making him feel like his whole body was electrified, flames licking at his fingers.
Yes. This was it.
Miyuki gave his sign.
Satoru nodded.
Eyes moving from Eijun to the catcher’s mitt...
He reared his arm back, eyes blazing…
And he threw.