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The faint aroma of pizza wafts to his nose the moment Miyuki pushes the door open. Oh, Mochi must be over! He recalls hearing Sawamura mention that Kuramochi will be coming over today, most likely to play video games. Closing the door behind him, he drops his bag on the floor and sits down to take off his shoes. He groans at the soreness coursing through his entire body. Jesus, I am getting old.
He sits unmoving for a while, letting the exhaustion seep from his body as he stretches his legs. How long have I been doing this shit? Miyuki chuckles as he recalls choosing to pursue a college degree before going pro, contrary to the opinion of many back during high school. Now he plays professional baseball—nearly five years this month—along with a handful of other former Seido teammates; not everyone plays for the same team though, and some have even gone overseas.
Every year, he gets an invitation to the US-Japan exhibition game, which means for two weeks each year, he, along with a handful of other professional baseball players across all of Japan, gets double the practice time. The extra practice cuts into his daily schedule, but he keeps up with it anyway; after all, he gets to see the other teams’ players up close and personal, and the information he gleans off from the few practice sessions they have together is always invaluable.
His stomach grumbles as his nose picks up the heavenly aroma again. He bends down to remove his shoes, when an inhuman sound reaches his ears. He stills, and his entire body goes rigid, hands unmoving in the act of removing his baseball cleats. What was that? He remains frozen in place, ears alert for any sound that would tell him more.
The ticking of the hallway clock punctuates the sudden eerie silence and Miyuki jerks in surprise. He shakes his head and thinks that his exhausted mind must have been playing tricks on him. He sighs, and his body goes slack, tension seeping out and making him feel boneless with fatigue.
Suddenly, a loud yell comes from one of the rooms, and it makes Miyuki’s skin crawl with terror. He would recognize that voice anywhere.
“NOOOOO! NOOO PLEASE DON’T COME CLOSER!”
Miyuki’s hands suddenly work double time to remove his shoes. His fingers slip due to the sweat that he belatedly realizes is suddenly pooling in his palm. The shock running through his body renders his usually nimble fingers useless, and his hands are shaking so badly that undoing the laces of his shoes suddenly seem to be such a complicated task.
“ACK! NO! NO PLEASE STOP!”
Fuck it! Miyuki gives up untying his shoes and opts instead to kick them off entirely. He sends one flying against the door. He attempts to toe the other off but his legs have suddenly turned to jelly, whether due to exhaustion or the sudden chilling scream from earlier, he can’t be sure.
“GUWAAAHHH!!! NO! HELP!”
Miyuki scrambles on all fours, one shoe still on as his sweat-stained uniform clings to his body. The imbalance in his footing nearly causes him to slip, but he manages to remain upright. He grabs his bat—never more grateful for once in his life that he has one and only realizing then how handy it can be outside of baseball—and creeps as silently as possible towards the living room.
The apartment he shares with Sawamura is designed with a narrow hallway with rooms on either side. The immediate one from the main doorway is the living room and directly across from it, on the other side, is the kitchen and dining area. The main and guest bedrooms are on the far end with a shared bathroom in the middle.
The ticking sound from the clock makes Miyuki jerk in surprise once more. His brows furrow at the sudden silence as his heart continues its erratic beating. He gets up from his crouch and flattens himself on the wall. He takes a deep breath before peering slowly into the room, clutching the bat tightly in his hand.
He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, and his vision nearly blurs with the sudden heat oozing from his body as sweat drips down the side of his face.
“STOP! STOP PLEASE! DON’T KILL ME!!!”
“EIJUN!” Bat in hand, Miyuki leaps into the room, ready to bash the intruder’s head in. He stops when he sees the supposed victim.
“AAAAHHHHH!!! STOP! STOP! STOP!”
Miyuki blinks, arms going akimbo as he takes in the scene before him.
Sawamura is standing in the middle of the room, waving his arms around like a blind person groping for things in the immediate vicinity. Or rather, groping for invisible objects in his real surroundings. Sawamura may as well have been blind with the VR console he is wearing.
“NO! NO! DON’T COME NEAR!!!”
As the adrenaline in his body starts to wear off, Miyuki releases the breath he is unconsciously holding in, and props himself against the wall. He wants to be angry—really, he does—but the entire thing is so hilarious that he finds himself more exasperated than irritated. He notices Kuramochi on one side, holding up his phone and most likely recording the shenanigan that is Sawamura acting like a crazed person in the middle of their living room.
“Mochi, you better not have recorded me in there!” He means to sound threatening, but his voice lacks its usual bite that he ends up sounding more annoyed than angry. Kuramochi merely chuckles in response. Miyuki doesn’t move from his spot against the wall, giving time for his heartbeat to return to its normal pace.
“KAZUYA! KAZUYA WHERE ARE YOU? HELP MEEEEEE!!!”
Miyuki rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics. Kuramochi snickers, and his hands shake as he continues to record the scene.
“KAZUYAAAAA!!! HE’S GOING TO KILL MEEEEEE!!!”
With a heavy sigh, Miyuki pushes away from the wall and walks to his hapless-looking boyfriend. He stares for a few minutes, debating if he should take a picture for posterity. In the end, he decides to take pity on his idiotic boyfriend and pulls out the VR console from his head.
“Huh—what—oh! Kazuya!” Sawamura shuts his eyes tightly against the sudden bright light. His hand blindly reaches out to grasp at Miyuki’s shirt. He feels disoriented from having the console taken off his head abruptly, but he is nevertheless grateful. He opens and closes his eyes, letting them adjust to the natural light in the room.
Miyuki’s eyes soften at the image of Sawamura, disoriented and helpless, clutching at his shirt for support. I would never get tired of this, he chuckles a little at how indubitably smitten he probably seems at the moment. He places a hand on either side of Sawamura’s face, anchoring him and comforting him at the same time. “Baka! What were you doing playing a horror VR game anyway?”
Sawamura slowly opens his eyes fully and peers up at Miyuki, his vision not totally clear yet but he could see enough to notice the concern in Miyuki’s warm gaze. “I lost a bet with Kuramochi-senpai, and this is my consequence.”
Warmth suffuses Sawamura’s cheeks, and Miyuki finds the entire thing too cute for words. Never stop being you, Ei! “Baka Eijun! When will you learn never to make a bet with Mochi?”
Sawamura pouts, his lower lip jutting out slightly as he averts his gaze from Miyuki. He wants to retort, but he knows Miyuki is right. Besides, when he gets like this, Miyuki never really gets truly mad; in fact, Miyuki tends to be more protective and caring. After being together for nearly eight years now, he has learned a thing or two about what buttons to push with Miyuki.
True enough, Miyuki’s heart melts at the meek and docile demeanor Sawamura is presenting. Part of him knows Sawamura is probably deliberately doing this so he doesn’t get yelled at, but part of Miyuki also enjoys the fact that Sawamura runs to him for help and comfort.
A cough from the side interrupts the tender moment, and both Miyuki and Sawamura turn towards the sound. Kuramochi stands on one side, a deadpan expression on his face. “I mean, this is all sweet and weirdly gross, but I really don’t need the visual.” Yet even as he says this, the phone in his hand continues to remain upright, a clear sign that the recording is still in progress. Clearly, Kuramochi is enjoying himself.
“Mochi, you better not be recording this.”
Kuramochi puts his phone away instantly, after a quick press at the record button and a quick glance to make sure the video is saved to his phone’s memory. He makes a mental note to send Ryou a copy, just in case Miyuki manages to get to his phone and delete the recording. “Miyuki, I’m hurt. What do you take me for?” He shrugs nonchalantly and makes his way towards the center table. “Oh great, now the pizza’s cold.” He swipes a slice from the box and stuffs it into his mouth.
Sawamura, distracted by the aroma of the now-opened box of pizza, disengages from Miyuki’s half-embrace and joins Kuramochi.
Miyuki sends the former Seido shortstop a doleful glare. Kuramochi merely grins toothily at him while he continues to munch on the slice of pizza. With a huff and a shake of his head, Miyuki exits the living room to finish his earlier interrupted activity. He sighs as he sees the mess at the genkan—his bag lay upturned on its side, and one of his shoes is by the door. Well, at least things aren’t boring around here.