Chapter Text
For whatever reason, Miyuki is more equipped to handle certain things.
He feels the pain in his side the moment he’s hit, his nerves firing the ripping sensation upon contact. The pain comes too quickly, suddenly there and everywhere before his hands twitch to go to his side.
He’s hurt, badly, probably. If he’s lucky, he’ll just be sore for the next week. His best option would be to leave the field and have his side looked at and assessed. Recovery time would be reduced significantly if he would take himself out of the game. With rest and diligence, he may even be okayed to play in their next match.
But when would that be?
Modest is not a word that most, if any, would use to describe him. He knows it because he knows his skills. He knows he’s a great catcher, he knows he’s invaluable to the team, and he knows, he knows, that if he leaves the field right now their team would not advance to the final.
But he also knows it’s stupid to hide his injury, obviously. He saw what an unspoken injury did to Chris, how long it took to recover, how it changed him (even if that, too, has now recovered).
With nationals so close, morale and the duty of a captain are even more important. He knows this, understands it intimately. He may have failed in his duties as captain so far, but he cannot, will not, let this opportunity escape them. He’s in charge of the team on the field. He isn’t just a great catcher anymore: he’s a captain. Maybe not a great one. He’s not quite sure how to become a great one, yet. All he knows how to do is play. Even through the pulsating pain and even after logical consideration, he still only knows how to play.
He can move.
He can throw.
He can play.
He had that dream last night.