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"Throw it at me as hard as you can!"
She is crazy. She is insane. She was already unhinged and now she was losing her mind.
Ibuki leaned down and looked up at me, smiling. "C'mon! Do it!"
"No! I'm not gonna throw a ball I know you can't catch. Especially not as fast as I can throw it." She had managed to get the ball in my hand and drag me onto a field at fucking midnight, which was a feat considering how much I hated the sport.
"Why do you even want me to do that? You tryna die? If you're like, suicidal or something I don't really know what to do, but I'll help-"
Ibuki shook her head. "No! Just throw it!"
I put the hand not holding the ball on my hip and scrunched my face up. "You don't make any sense. There's no way this is part of music training and I've told you a million times that I hate baseball."
The musician crossed her arms and sighed at me. "Throw it, Leon-chan!"
"Ugh, don't call me weird things like that." I did not much mind her giving me a nickname, especially since there was definitely part of me left that idolized her. I didn't actively shake in her presence anymore though. "How many times do I need to say no before you register that throwing a ball at over 100 miles per hour at my music teacher has no benefit to me?"
To that, she stuck out her tongue. "Hmph! I thought Ibuki was your friend before she was your music teacher. I am offended."
"Sorry."
"Prove it! Throw it at me!"
I pulled the ball up to my face, resting my forehead against it. My jaw tensed. "Buki, I'm not gonna throw it at you. Why are you even begging me to do that?"
She paused, expression blank. It seemed that she did not know why she wanted me to throw it at her. "... Cause it'll be cool!" Ibuki piped up, but it seemed like she pulled the explanation out of her ass.
"Ambulance fees and hospital visits really aren't cool." I corrected her, mindlessly tossing the ball in my hand.
Ibuki pouted. Ibuki's pouts were about ten times more intense than the average person's. Most of her expressions were like that. Her entire face got all screwed up, and her eyes were shut as if she could not bear to face failure. "You won't best me, Leon Kuwata!"
I stood there, confused by what she meant, and even more confused when she darted off toward first base.
But I was still. "Huh, did you see something? Are we done talking?" I was confused as to what she had thought she was trying to accomplish but knowing Ibuki now, she really could have just pulled all of this out of boredom.
Ibuki's only response was a giggle. She slammed into first base, and immediately started darting to second. And third. Back to me at home plate. Back to first.
"... What are you doing?"
She looked back at me as she tapped second base with the tip of her formerly pristine white shoe. It dawned on me that she was actually making quite a mess of her clothes doing all of this. Ibuki always wore a white button up and it was tarnished by all the dust she was kicking up. It was… cute. But I was too confused by what she was doing to really make much note of that. "I'm running! You should run with me!"
Situating both hands on my hips, I let out a sigh. Ibuki was a lot like me sometimes. Well, mostly in the way that she ended up with a talent that she did not have to work very hard at somehow. Don't get me wrong, she practiced her ass off, but it wasn't a dedicated shutting herself off from society type of practice. Music was just all she did. It was all she wanted, so it didn't even feel like dedication to her. It was natural. I was a little different in the fact that I never needed practice, dedicated or not. But the point was that a lot of people envied us both and assumed that neither of us really deserved our titles over people who took life more seriously.
"Buki, it's like, 12:30!" I called out, trying to get her to pipe down.
"Never too late to run!" She was back to home plate again, breathing heavy. Like really heavy. Her tiny little chest was raising and lowering way faster than mine did when I ran across the field like that. I was about to dismiss it on her lack of athletic talent, but then remembered it was a lot more drastic than that for Ibuki.
I swallowed, "Hey. Stop it."
"Not until you run with-"
I grabbed her wrist. "Stop running. You're gonna hurt yourself."
Ibuki tried to pull out of my grip but considering that my concern over this was stemming from her being severely underweight, she was not able to get out of my hold. "Aw, cmon, I stomp around on stage way more than this! I wanna run with you."
"I'll throw the damn ball okay? Just stop running." I figured she was pulling all this on me because even though I was refusing to confess the extent of it, she did know that I cared about her enough to not want her to pass out on a field in the middle of the night. Or ever, actually.
Ibuki stopped attempting to wiggle away from me and flashed me a million dollar smile. "Yay!"
"But not at you. I'm just gonna throw it like a normal person."
That smile immediately disappeared and evolved into a pout. "No, don't throw like normal! You don't have to throw it at me, but throw it like the Ultimate Baseball Star!"
"Jeez, fine." Normally I would have never conceded that quickly but I knew that she'd start running in circles again if I did not comply, so I let go of her wrist. "Stand real far behind me though, I don't want you in the way."
The guitarist nodded quickly, "Duh, people always watch baseball players from behind!"
My eyebrow raised. "Huh?"
"Ass!" She giggled, clapping her hands together, "Every baseball player I've ever met has had an immaculate ass!"
I tried really hard to not blush. It was not punk to blush… or was it punk as hell to blush when the super highschool level musician admits she's looked at your ass before? Moreover that she thought it was cute? I coughed so that my voice would not stagger, "Uh yeah, whatever."
Ibuki trotted a few paces behind me, smart enough to know that she needed to be pretty far back so that I do not pull back and hit her by mistake. "Go on, show it off! Human t-shirt cannon, go!"
She always said that. When Kazuichi first introduced me to her, Ibuki had grabbed both my hands upon being told my ultimate and promised me that at the very least she would let me throw t-shirts into the crowd for her while she was on stage. I nearly passed out. Her hands were cold and thin, but her fingers were particularly long which I am sure helped with her ultimate. Meeting her was a one sided introduction since I had known (and borderline worshipped) her for years.
"Yeah, yeah. Make sure you pay attention cause I'm only doing this once. Last pitch I'll ever make." I sighed, widening my stance. It had been a moment since I had put myself in this position. Since coming to Hope's Peak I had sworn to never play again and so far I had held fast to that. The last time I pitched was months ago now.
My body was pretty tense, but also totally relaxed in the same moment. It was a strange feeling. It was a familiar motion that I had fell into probably a million times. And there was no pressure here in theory. I had pitched against rival teams in huge stadiums, crammed and sold out. I guess it was the fact that my idol was watching me, and just my idol.
The motion itself flowed right on out of me and I did not even have to think about it. The ball was literally just an extension of me and I hardly had to remember I was holding it and releasing it. Even though the physical motion was a thoughtless process for me, I was thinking harder than I usually did while doing it. Memories of being on a field like this. I hated them. My teammates always watched on in awe during practice, asking me questions I definitely could not answer seeing as how my talent was inherent. I remembered stadiums, and stadium food which I always got for free. Cokes, fries, chicken tenders… I hated it all. I hated it all. I hated this feeling, the ball flew out of my hand.
And then I loosened my stance and I watched it go. I crossed my arms quickly, as if I was trying to shake off the fact that I had done something that I never wanted to do again. Of course the ball flew into the distance, far away from the field. She had told me to throw it like I always did, so I did, and of course it went out of sight.
The clapping was quieter than I was used to. Not a stadium, just Ibuki Mioda. I will say she clapped a little bit louder than the average person. Everything about her was loud and musical.
"Wooooooooo! Kuwata! Number…. Eighteen?"
My sigh was loud, too. "Yeah, I was number eighteen."
"Eighteen! Eighteen! Eighteen! Gooooooo eighteen!" Ibuki clapped her hands to her own beat. She continued on for a moment, but then started singing instead of mindlessly chanting.
"Leon Kuwata, number eighteen! Watch him watch him watch him swing! He won't lose, no he won't, because he can't, he's a king!"
Blushing again, I scratched at the back of my head and avoided looking at her dead on. "What's up with all that? I don't really like swinging, I'm a pitcher-"
She stuck out her tongue yet again, "Fine! I'll just have to write you a better song."
Ibuki took in a deep breath, released it, and lyrics flew out of her in a seemingly effortless way. "Best pitcher ever, Leon Kuwata! Throw it into the atmosphere! Throw it fast and throw it hard, throw it all the way out of here!"
"... Thanks?" I was genuinely flattered that she was singing about me, but I was not really able to fully accept her singing about something she knew I was not very fond of. Not just that, something I definitely hated.
I wished she would start announcing when she was going to touch me suddenly, because it happened frequently and somehow I was never prepared for it. She snatched up my hands and held them tight, looking up at me with star filled eyes. "Hey, if we find the ball, can you sign it for me? I'll sign you right here and then you can get it tattooed, and it'll be metal as fuck." She let go of one of my hands and poked my chest, right beneath my collarbone.
"Woah, that's a pretty intense first tattoo." I was screaming internally. That was probably the most intimate touch I had ever shared with Ibuki. I mean, I had certainly surpassed third base with a girl before, but I could hardly hold Ibuki's hand without losing my breath. Somehow I maintained a mostly calm expression.
She nodded, "Ok, well maybe I'll just sign your battle jacket then. That's still pretty cool, right?"
"... But I gotta sign a baseball?"
"Yep."
Poutily, I pursed my lips. "Fine. Let's go find it."
Ibuki lowered the hand that she was poking my chest with and felt like I could breathe again, but it suspended itself again when she gripped my hand tighter and pulled me away with her to go find the ball.
"It's gonna be pretty far out." I reminded her and was very glad she was so focused on stomping forward and would not have time to notice how red my face was.
"Duh, you aren't the ultimate baseball star for no reason." It was confusing to me why she would even bring up my ultimate. Silly as she was she was pretty considerate underneath it all and was well aware that my ultimate meant absolutely nothing to me. There was no need to parade around the fact that it was my ultimate.
I followed behind her, as observant as ever that her hand was cold. She was pretty from behind too and I hardly even meant that in that sort of way. She always wore skirts, but they were always loose fitting enough that you couldn't tell if she was curvy beneath it. And oddly, I did not care if she was. Ibuki could damn well be a board, but she was just pretty and was more than enough no matter what.
"I think you're leading us in the wrong direction. It kinda went more to the right." I decided to correct her in her movements. Part of me knew it would be a good idea to take the lead, but it dawned on me that the reason I did not do that already was because I was afraid she would stop holding my hand if I did that.
She stopped and turned around, smiling vibrantly. Ibuki had nice teeth and I momentarily pondered if they had always been that way. Being the ultimate musician meant she was loaded, of course. If anything had ever been wrong with them she surely could afford to fix it.
I had no clue why I was thinking about that.
"Ok, then you lead." And instead of dropping my hand, she simply got to my side and grabbed the other hand. Ibuki grabbed it more firmly this time, running her thumb over my knuckles quickly. It was almost like she did not want me to notice her doing that. I was probably just being a little too hopeful though.
"Yeah."
I knew where the ball landed. I walked the opposite direction of it. Walking around with someone I idolized only a few months ago on a field at midnight. Maybe I hated baseball, but holy shit I was not gonna let the field distract me from how elated I was when it came down to it.
"It is really pretty."
It was a confusing statement, so I turned back to look at her. "What's pretty?"
"Baseball ass," She giggled and made a very strong point to cross her eyes in the direction of my behind before straightening her gaze and overall tone, "Nah, seriously though, the field is really pretty at night."
A complete avoidance of eye contact followed. Snorting, "Yeah, not really. Its dusty as shit and bugs die all the time from swarming around the lights like total jackasses and just fall on the field. I had one fall in my face one time!"
"That happens with stage lights too, y'know." Her voice was light and airy, balancing out how defensive mine sounded. "Oh, and the dust thing happens on stage too sometimes. Not all venues are made equal! I played at a horse track once and it rained and there was mud everywhere." Ibuki tapped her free hand to her lips, "Oh, a guy threw a beer bottle up on stage once too. It totally bonked me on the head!"
Words rushed out of my mouth before I could double check that they sounded cool, "A-are you okay?"
"Yeah, this was like, months ago. I got a really thick skull anyways." Ibuki tapped her forehead, "You don't ever gotta worry about the great Ibuki Mioda!"
"Jeez, I'll try, but you're always up to somethin'." I promised her, taking a deep sigh.
There was a very slight moment of silence between us. You could hear the stadium lights buzz, and the buzz of all the bugs trying to pry on the lights over that.
Ibuki broke the quiet moment. "I worry about you plenty though."
My eyebrow twitched. "Why?"
"I don't think you're being really genuine with yourself is all." Her voice was notably a bit… deeper than normal? She normally spoke in a loud voice. It was not quite shrill, but it definitely skirted on it. And she was talking much, much slower than what was usual for her. "Like, part of you is totally authentic right? You like looking cool! You think your piercings are badass, and they are! And you totally feel confident in cool clothes. You love your hair now, too."
Gulp. "Yeah, and what's not authentic then?"
She sighed. "You know you can do all that and still play baseball, right?"
I stopped, and she stopped. But I did not let go of her hand and she did not either. My eyes were glued to my shoes.
"For fucks sake I could but why would-"
"You love baseball, that's why, bud." Right when she said it she rubbed her thumb across my knuckles again, but a lot more intentionally and slow this time. She wanted me to know that time.
Even though I adored her I was not afraid to correct her swiftly, even though my gaze did not move from the ground. "I do not know what gave you that idea Ibuki but you're pretty wrong about that."
I could feel her pout despite not seeing it. "Nope! I'm right, I know I'm right. I wouldn't say something so drastic if I wasn't positive of it. Just like I know you're walking us in the totally wrong direction so that you have more time on the field since you miss it so much!"
Despite any truth she may have been dishing out before that, Ibuki was wrong on that last note. I was taking us in circles so I had more time with her and not to have more time on the damn field. It was not the right time to confess that.
"... Shit, well I thought it landed this way. It's been so long since I've pitched that I totally forgot how that worked. Must be losing the talent, huh?"
Ibuki let go of my hand, and I let it drop by my side. Trotting in front of me, she squatted only a little to look up to my face. I was still looking at the ground, but I did look up to meet her gaze.
"Hm. Ya know, I'll kiss ya if you tell me the truth! Right on the lips! Smooch! Maybe even with tongue! I've never kissed a guy with a tongue ring. Does it like, catch on teeth? That would probably hurt, so be careful."
Blink. Blink. What?! That proposal did not even feel real to me. My voice reflected how totally dumbfounded I was, coupled with anxiety that Kazuichi surely had told her I had the hots for her if she thought that was the way to drag words out of me. "Wha…. What are you on about Ibuki?"
"C'mon, you'll get mad punk cred for kissing me! Or do you not want to? I can bribe you with something more tempting I guess, that probably was not the best thing to throw at you-"
"No no, yeah no I want that." I did not use the right head to think that statement through and I immediately flushed.
Ibuki grinned from ear to ear. "Then say it! You smiled so hard when you threw that ball! I know what you wanna say. It might be hard for you to say it, but I'm here to hear it!"
It was my turn to pout. "I mean, you said the condition is that I told the truth. And the truth is that I hate baseball and I never wanna touch one again. I wanna be a musician like you-"
"Leon, you're not like me."
I blinked.
"You're you! And you should realize that! You aren't some barbie who can change careers and styles depending on your love interests. Kaz told me the whole reason you wanna get into music was to pull some girl from a hair salon, which like is cool or whatever but you shouldn't be placing your whole life in the lap of women just because they're cute! I'm sure she would have dated you even when you had short hair and played baseball every day, cause you were great before any of this." I was so ready to defend myself, and so ready to run Kazuichi's name into the ground until she said her next words.
"Like dude, I totally would have dated you when you looked like that and played baseball. You're a cool dude, and you're Leon, and you shouldn't cut yourself up like a cookie cutter to impress some girls ideal. Ya know you like, deserve to be loved genuinely and all that."
Nice speech Ibuki. All I heard was I would totally have dated you. The rest didn't exactly fall on deaf ears and I definitely took it into consideration but it all paled in importance to that statement.
Luckily I did not have to respond because she kept on talking. "And you know what? If you had asked that girl out that day and she told you no because of what you looked like she is like tottalllllly not a cool girl anyways! Not worth losing any sleep over in the slightest! If she didn't like that you played baseball that's even more lame! Imagine putting someone down for something that made them happy, that's the least punk rock thing someone could ever do!"
Done talking for now, I watched her cross her arms over her chest and wait for my response to all of that.
I chuckled. "You really believe Kazuichi?"
"You aren't gonna wiggle your way out of this by shaming his credibility Leon. I have a real good lie detector sense!" Ibuki tapped her temple, "Actually, I think I know something that will help you."
Ibuki whipped out her phone, totally ignoring me for a moment while she opened up her browser. She quickly typed something in and immediately went to images, flashing her phone right back at me.
"Do you know this band?"
I blinked. Before me was a very 80s metal band. The lead singer was a mean looking man, but mean in a cool way. A badass way. He had gloves with saws sticking out of them, and black hair with white streaks that very much reminded me of Ibuki's hair. Above him was the title "W.A.S.P", which I assumed was either the band's name or the name of a single. I did not know the band though, so I very much did not know which was the case. Shaking my head I answered, "Nope, never heard of em."
"They're like one of my favorite bands!" Ibuki grinned, "Isn't this guy metal as fuck? His name is Blackie Lawless, which is an equally metal name."
I nodded, "Yeah, he does look pretty cool."
Her grin got even more intense. "And you know what? He was capable of being a pro baseball player."
"Yeah, anyone is capable-"
"Oh shut up! You know what I mean. He almost went pro, forreal, and he still plays it as a hobby. He is like in his sixties or somethin' and there are images of him playing to this day. And he still plays in W.A.S.P." She kept her phone held up to make her point, "This is like one of the few times in life you can have your cake and eat it too Leon! You can totally do both! If Blackie Lawless can do it, why can't Leon Kuwata?"
It was my time to cross my arms. "I don't want to."
"Then why do you stare so longingly at the field all the time? Why do you talk about wanting to throw things and get like, insane level really angry whenever you catch yourself doing it? Why do you start talking about your old friends and get all nasty when someone asks you if you'd ever talk to them again?" Ibuki was making points and I didn't like it. I loved her voice and suddenly wanted her to shut up. "Its ok Leon. You can have both. You deserve to have both. Don't hurt yourself to maintain a certain image. Just be you, cause you're great. I think you're punk as fuck no matter what."
"Just shut the fuck up Ibuki! You're being like, stupid as shit right now! You don't know anything."
I wanted to punch myself in the gut the moment I said it, and I felt my heart drop to the floor. I had said it all with such venom. I spoke so loud and so intense that I was nearly spitting on the girl I admired with all my heart. Fuck the girl in the salon, I was fully pining after Ibuki now and I had totally destroyed our friendship.
But part of the reason I liked her so much was because of her always being a surprise.
Ibuki didn't even drop her smile. "I can tell you didn't mean a word of that, your face is like totally blue right now my dude! Breathe, it is ok." She wasn't even cautious when she grabbed both of my hands. "You can tell me, even if you don't wanna tell anyone else. You don't have to tell anyone else. Fuck it, don't even tell me if you don't wanna. But you deserve to tell yourself."
Her hands were still cold. Was that.. Anemia? I couldn't remember what it was that made people run cold, but Ibuki's body almost ran like a freezer. I was different than her, warm. It felt natural to meet in the middle like we did.
"... I miss it. But only a little bit."
She giggled, "Well, then I'll hold up my end."
I blinked, looking down at her. She was so insanely short. Not to sound like every other fan of anything on the planet, but she really was shorter in person. "Huh?"
Everything had been moving so fast that I had forgotten that she gave me a promise. She closed her eyes, and I concluded that she was wearing fake lashes at 12:30 on a school night. I would have paid more mind to that if she didn't stand on the tips of her toes and reached up to my face, puckering her lips. I froze. She froze.
Ibuki opened her left eye. "Uh, I'm a lil' to short for this to work without you like, meeting me halfway."
"You were serious about that?" Her breath was cold just like the rest of her, and smelled like bubble gum.
"Yep! You don't gotta if you don't wanna though, I just thought it was like good motivation, and I may have been totally wrong about that." Her voice trailed off at the end, and that may have been the first time I ever heard her voice tremble at all in a shy way.
I shook my head, "Jeez, of course I want to. Lemme help ya with this, shorty."
Since Ibuki had chosen to surprise me at every turn tonight, I decided to surprise her for once. I knew she hardly weighed anything so instead of meeting her halfway by bending down, I grabbed her by the waist and hauled her up. "Hey, like wrap your legs around me, then you'll be eye level for once."
I wanted to slap myself on the back, because holy shit she was blushing and it was adorable. She complied and quickly crossed her legs at my back. I really did not think about it when I hoisted her up but my hands were very much situated on her ass to keep her held up. I was super worried I was gonna get slapped for doing that without asking and suddenly felt like a dick for doing it, but was immediately relieved when she started laughing.
"So that's why people call you a womanizer! I guess the media was right about that." She mused, deciding to be equally rough with me since I had decided to be so rough with her. Ibuki took my goatee in her hand and gently yanked on it, pulling me toward her face. "Oh well, you are cute enough to get a pass."
She kissed me first. Ibuki was eye level and reached in closer, kissing me softly. Her lips were a little dry, but I had already expected that since I had heard her complain about her black lipstick always drying out her lips. But I did not mind in the slightest. Weirdly enough the first thought I had was wow, she kisses like a princess. Which was a really weird thought considering that one of her classmates was the ultimate princess, but I was not comparing them at all. She just kissed … softly, even with the chapped lips. I remembered that after all this, I'd probably have black lipstick smeared on my face. And I was proud of that fact.
Of course, when Ibuki Mioda kisses you, you kiss back. It didn't take much thought for me to keep her held up, and I was so focused on what my lips were feeling to even remember that I was holding up her entire weight in my arms. She was easy to hold. She was even easier to kiss.
She tasted like anyone else I guess, but sweeter somehow? Not even in a sugary way though, it just felt more familiar than it did with other girls. Sometimes when I kissed a girl it was a little bit of a disgusting process and all I could focus on was the pool of spit in my mouth, but Ibuki felt warm for the first time with her lips on mine.
The only bit of awkwardness was endearing. After a few moments, she toyed with my tongue ring curiously. I gave her a muffled little laugh (which sounded embarrassingly like a moan) and she pulled away all too soon. Her lips were puffy and her lipstick was aptly smeared. It was precious.
"Tongue rings taste weird."
"Bad weird?"
The smile she gave me was devious. "Nope, and certainly not weird enough to stop me from doing it again."