Chapter Text
With baseball practice finally over, Takeshi breathed out a sigh of relief. He looked towards the horizon, taking in the sight that he never grew tired of, as he wiped off his sweat with a towel. Over the last few hours, the sky morphed into a gradient mixture of purple and orange. The sun was only a few inches away from kissing the edge of the earth, and it appeared more apparent with the surrounding vibrant colors than it was at its zenith. Some clouds streaked the sky, adding more depth and hues to the natural canvas. Sunsets never failed to take away Takeshi’s exhaustion, at least until today.
He packed his equipment and sent his teammates cheerful grins as they waved to him on their way out. The moment he was the last one on the field, Takeshi dropped his smile and replaced it with a contemplative frown. He pondered his performance over the last couple of days. Takeshi didn’t know when it started. Although he remained the best player among his team, lately his whole body felt heavier and slower with each passing day. No amount of practice shook off the invisible chains that weighed him down. If anything, it made his performance even worse and decreased the time it took for him to get exhausted, much to his frustration.
He ran a hand through his hair as he deeply sighed. Takeshi never thought there’d be a day that his favorite sport, the one thing he devoted most of his life to, would become a burden. Not to mention he had Sakuragi’s demand for his time to worry about too.
“This sucks,” he groaned under his breath.
“Yamamoto-san?”
He turned his head so quickly that his neck cracked audibly, but all of his attention was on the girl standing next to the bleachers on the other side of the baseball field’s tall fence. Compared to how she typically looked during the day, Sawada basking in the light of the sunset was a sight to behold, even in just a white t-shirt and black shorts. In one hand she held her school bag, and on her back, she wore her duffle bag that contained her uniform and volleyball. Without her blazer and the skirt that went down to her knees, Takeshi could clearly see Sawada’s toned arms, legs, and--
Oh God, those thighs… He slightly struggled to swallow. “Hey, Sawada,” Takeshi called back, forcing his eyes to move up and meet those molten orbs that bored into his soul a few days ago. “Did you come from volleyball training?” He quickly holstered his own bag over his shoulders and jogged up to her. Like Sawada, he decided not to change out of his practice clothes.
She curiously looked at him with a small frown that appeared after the neck crack. “It actually ended about half an hour ago. Hayami-san and the others went home first, I decided to stay back to write down and discuss some things on today’s training with Coach Ren. What about you? Looks like you just finished baseball.”
Takeshi habitually rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “Yeah, but it wasn’t that fun today… Hey, since we’re both done, do you wanna walk home together? I think my place is just 5 minutes away from yours.” On his way to and back from both middle and high school, he always passed by the Sawada household, but never had the chance to see her except during classes. It was kind of disappointing that their morning and afternoon practice times didn’t line up, so this was a rare opportunity to get to know Sawada.
It took a second for her to think about it before she nodded. “Sure, let’s go,” she replied with a smile.
They walked side-by-side with a few feet between them. Takeshi slowed down his usual pace to match with the shorter brunette. He was taller than most guys his age, so when he looked down, he realized that Sawada only stood up to his chest. She barely reached his shoulders. Thinking back to the other times he saw her, Takeshi noticed that she was shorter than her friends. He thought it was cute, but considering the sport she played…
"How did you get into volleyball, Sawada?"
As they passed the school gates and turned right, she replied, “My dad is a coach from Italy, and my mom went pro during college.”
Oh, that makes her half-Italian then , he mused. That must’ve explained her hair color that was lighter than most Japanese brunettes.
“They were professional volleyball players during their prime, so they taught me to follow in their footsteps when I was 8,” Sawada continued. “Maybe because it was in my blood, but tossing and receiving became natural to me after a few tries. I got the hang of it pretty quickly. Since then I've been playing because it’s fun.”
She looked down at her hand with a gleam in her eyes that sent shivers down Takeshi’s back. He knew that hungry look. “The sound of sneakers rubbing against the gym floors, the calls between teammates fighting in unison, the cheers from the bleachers, the satisfactory slam when someone spikes or gets shutdown--”
This time she turned her head swiftly and took a step closer towards Takeshi, but thankfully her neck didn’t crack. She looked up at him with a wide grin that caused him to blink owlishly twice. Under the sunset, her whole person appeared to be covered in orange flames “--the adrenaline !”
Then, noticing that she was a little too close to him, she sheepishly laughed and returned back to the distance they maintained initially. “Sorry, I get carried away easily whenever I talk about volleyball. It’s the only thing that gets me going, I can’t imagine devoting my life to anything else.”
Her excitement was contagious. Takeshi matched her grin, happy to know that she shared the same feelings as he had towards his own sport. “It’s fine, I’m not much different from you when I talk about baseball.” Without realizing it, they both slowed their pace to extend their time.
“And you? How did you get started, Yamamoto-san?”
He paused. Now that he thought about it, this was the first time in a while (since he befriended Hayami) he talked about his baseball origins. People assumed he was a genius player from the get-go, so they never bothered to ask how he played so well. Instead, they built his character in their minds as they saw fit.
“Please drop the ‘-san,’ Sawada. That sounds like you’re calling my dad,” he chuckled. It also made him sound old despite only being seventeen.
“Oh… Now that you mention it, it’s always ‘Yamamoto-kun’ or just ‘Yamamoto’ that others call you. Alright,” she nodded. “Then, how did you get started, Yamamoto?"
...No '-kun'?
"It seems to annoy you when other girls call you with '-kun', and you call me without an honorific, so I'm just returning the gesture."
"Right." Takeshi coughed lightly to hide his surprise, but that obviously was useless in front of Sawada's intuition. "My parents also taught me. Well, technically Dad did. He told me that my mom wanted to teach me the sport she grew up with." He looked up wistfully at the sky that turned navy by the minute. "But she died when I was seven, so Dad taught me in her place." He looked back down at Sawada, who had neither pity nor sorrow on her face. Only a look of understanding. "He could have trained me in kendo and continued our ancestor's legacy, we have the dojo and all."
"But he didn't because he wanted to honor your mom's wish. He loved her."
"Yep." Takeshi nodded. "It sounds like I'm being forced to play, but I love baseball, so I'm thankful he taught me. Recently, though, it's not as fun as it used to be…" He quietly trailed off as he bitterly thought about his worse-than-usual pitches and swings. Not to mention his running speed and reaction time. "I think I've hit a slump," he honestly told the brunette. "No matter how hard I train nor how much I practice, I'm not getting any better. Tell me, what should I do, Sawada?" He clenched his bag in discouragement.
"A 'slump,' you say…" She held her chin in a thinking pose. "How much exactly are you training?"
"Every day, two hours before school and three hours after. Sometimes another hour or two after dinner."
When he noticed Sawada stopped a few feet behind him, he also paused in his steps to turn around and face her. His eyes landed on her deep frown.
"Yamamoto." There was a firm tone in her voice that made him unconsciously stand straighter.
"Yeah?"
She dug into her short's pocket and brought out a ring that connected three keys. They jingled as she dangled them between her fingers. "How much do you think this weighs?"
"...Huh?" He stared confusingly with his jaw slightly hanging. "Uh, fifty grams?" He randomly guessed. Hearing no confirmation, he quickly answered again, "A hundred grams?"
"No, Yamamoto. The absolute weight of these keys doesn't matter. What does matter is how long I hold them," she patiently explained with her outstretched arm. The dumbfounded expression on Takeshi didn't change. "They'll feel weightless if I hold them like this for a minute. After an hour, my arm will feel really tired and will ache. An entire day will make my arm numb and paralyzed. It'll feel like I'm carrying a whole cart of volleyballs, but in the end, I'm just holding three small keys. Do you get it now?"
"...Sorry, Sawada, I still don't know what you're talking about," he winced as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"Overtraining syndrome. The problem is not that you're not practicing enough, but that you're practicing too much without any breaks. Over time, the physical stress and exhaustion build up, resulting in your slump. You're not releasing the build-up in any way, so you're not playing in top shape, Yamamoto." The brunette finally let her arm down and placed her keys back into her pocket. "You'll hurt yourself sooner or later if you keep this up. You're already facing some of the side-effects." She referred to the times she noticed him napping during classes due to the lack of rest and focus. "You have a responsibility to take care of your own well-being as an athlete, Yamamoto, otherwise you won't be able to play the only thing your life surrounds."
They returned to their walking, one behind the other as he stared into space and contemplated her words. If he was being honest, although Sawada had a point, the idea of taking a break made him feel uncomfortable despite the benefits. He could use the time off to study with Hayami and get his grades back up, spend more time with Dad, and get some extra sleep after days of waking up early. But his team has a match with Nakayama High next Monday, which was only three days away.
“I can’t afford to waste time…”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Are you worried about your upcoming match?” Takeshi nodded. “Baseball is a team sport as much as it is an individual sport. You need to rely on your teammates to cover for you. They may not be as great as you, but they’re competent enough to be on the first string. It also wouldn’t be good if you broke your arm before or during the game.”
Takeshi felt ashamed of himself. He of all people should have known how hard his teammates worked to not let the team down. They didn't want to rely mainly on him and tried to reach his level at the very least. But he was so occupied worrying about his progress that he blinded himself and unintentionally ignored their efforts. Like Sawada said, breaking or spraining a bone was the last thing he wanted. If that did happen, he would become a liability to the baseball team and would have to rest for weeks instead of a couple of days.
"You're right. Thanks, Sawada." He stopped lagging behind and increased his strides. Once he was right next to her, Takeshi offered not a grin, but a smile. It was the most genuine he mustered in a while that he caught the brunette off guard for a moment.
She stared at that smile with a mildly surprised face before she weakly responded, "You're welcome." Sawada snapped her head away and regained her composure. "Guess you'll be sleeping in tonight."
"Yep!" He laughed.
Unknown Number Friday, 9:21 PM
Thx again Sawada! 😁
Hayami-san Friday, 9:22 PM
The baseball idiot begged me for
your number. Sry Tsuna
Her phone rang twice, signaling the two messages that arrived. Tsuna paused in her writing and turned away from her homework. She picked up her phone.
“Who?” Kyoya quietly muttered. Unlike the brunette, he continued to do his assignments without glancing away. The sound of pencil scratches filled the room as a result of his fast writing, but despite the quick pace, his handwriting was impeccably neat.
“Hayami-san. She said she gave Yamamoto my number, I guess he texted me the moment he got it,” she replied with a smile as she changed ‘Unknown Number’ to ‘Yamamoto’ before quickly typing her replies to both of them. She didn’t have to wait for the baseball player’s response.
Yamamoto Friday, 9:21 PM
Thx again Sawada! 😁
You Friday, 9:23 PM
Np Yama
Talk to me anytime about sports,
I’m an athlete too ᕦ(òwóˇ)ᕤ
Or about anything is fine too
Yamamoto Friday, 9:23
Sure! Let’s talk a lot
Yama?
You Friday, 9:24
Yamamoto is too long to type
Yamamoto Friday, 9:24
😂
“Tsuna, work.”
“Yes, yes,” she lightly sighed out. Tsuna put down the phone and replaced it with her mechanical pencil. The silence they had before her phone rang returned. They broke it when she had to ask her childhood friend who was a grade above her for help or by the occasional taps of their pencils when they were deep in thought. The silence was comfortable, and not stifling nor awkward like how other people felt when they were in the same room as Kyoya.
Tsuna could understand why they felt like that. To everyone but her and Kusakabe-san, Kyoya was intimidating with his sharp eyes that could bring anyone down to their knees with a single glance and his tall, toned stature that could easily knock them out with a tonfa. His fearsome reputation extended beyond their small town Namimori. With one glance at his disciplinary jacket, one knew they didn’t have to wait for him to execute his firm justice. So it was a wonder how Tsuna, seemingly the opposite of Kyoya, befriended such a person.
To them, at least.
When Tsuna first met him twelve years ago, befriending him felt like the most natural thing in the world besides volleyball, although Kyoya was reluctant initially. Tsuna more or less pestered him into becoming her companion by following him everywhere, and she didn’t regret it, seeing how they were now. Their relationship was a result of their shared way of life. They did everything they wanted, everything without regrets. Tsuna and Kyoya lived free and unrestrained. But they were also there for each other to ground themselves or prevent the other from doing something reckless. Though, between the two of them, Kyoya sought trouble the most.
“Mm.” He grunted and drove Tsuna out of her musing.
She didn’t realize her hand stopped moving minutes ago. Accepting that she couldn’t focus on her homework, she closed her books and unceremoniously squirmed her head through Kyoya’s arms and his crossed legs to lay on his lap. If anyone else but her dared to do this, they’d be courting a quick death. Long live childhood friend privileges. Not to mention his thighs were nicely fir-
“Ridiculous.”
Curses, he didn’t need the same intuition as her to know what she was thinking. Screw childhood friend privileges. Tsuna quickly changed her mind to another topic.
“What do you think of Yamamoto?”
Kyoya looked down at her and raised an eyebrow.
“You didn’t say anything when I talked about him during dinner,” she pouted. “I want to hear your thoughts.”
“Mm, a herbivore.” Of course, he called everyone but her that. It was a default title of sorts he gave to people unless he had a good reason to call them otherwise.
“...What makes him a ‘herbivore’?”
“A coward.” Yamamoto Takeshi doesn’t face things upfront. He doesn’t do what he wants. “A fool.” He holds everything in and shows that damned smile like an idiot. “His will is weak.”
“But only for now,” Tsuna smiled. “He finally took a step for himself.” It was nice to see people self-improve.
But procrastination will never disappear.
“Get back to work.”
“Slavedriver,” she clicked her tongue.
Five A.M was an ungodly time to wake up before volleyball practice, especially on Mondays, but whatever Coach Ren decided must be followed. Complaining was useless, but that didn’t stop Tsuna and her teammates from doing it anyway. That being said, Tsuna stared blankly at Yamamoto who stood in front of her house with a grin that was slightly difficult to see in the dark. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but here he was next to an exasperated and face-palming Hayami-san.
“I believe I told you a few days ago to take a break from training, Yamamoto…” The brunette started without a greeting. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but why are you here…?” She closed the door behind her and slowly strode to them.
“This idiot here,” Hayami-san gestured to him with a thumb, “thought it’d be fun to walk with us at this goddamn time from now on.”
“Yep! Before and after school.” His face was bright compared to Tsuna and Hayami-san’s tired complexions. “I naturally wake up around this time, and it’s hard for me to go back to sleep,” Yamamoto shrugged. “Basically, I have nothing to do for a couple of hours since Sawada banned me from baseball for a while. So! If I can’t do baseball, I’ll just follow you two to volleyball practice.” They begrudgingly started walking to their high school with a ‘Let’s go’ from Hayami-san. “I decided not to go with my team out of town after lunch for the game against Nakayama. It’s during chemistry class which I can’t afford to skip with my current grades,” he winced. “I’m sure they’ll be fine without my support on the bench.”
“Well, if you say so…” Tsuna trailed off as she glanced unsurely at her silver-haired friend, who shrugged back at her. “And when you mean ‘from now on,’ do you mean…?”
He chuckled and finished for her, “Every day? Yep! I think my practice times in the morning are an hour later than yours, but it’s fine. It just means extra time outside of classes to get to know you, Sawada.”
His energy was starting to rub off on her as her tiredness trickled away. It wasn't like Sasagawa-senpai's overwhelming positive energy like the sun nor Kyoya's calm and silent energy like being in comfortable solitude. No, Yamamoto's felt akin to standing under sunshowers, a mixture of happiness and peace. Returning his tooth grin with a small smile, she replied, "I guess that goes both ways. Let's get along, Yamamoto."