Chapter Text
“Hey.”
Katsuyuki looks up, hand clutching the strap of his duffel bag. The rest of his team was walking further up ahead, more quiet than usual. As expected. They had just lost. It was only a practice game, but a loss was a loss. None of them would try to talk him right now. They knew how Katsuyuki got after a loss, so it had to be someone from the other team. But why would they be talking to him?
Katsuyuki wasn’t sure he even wanted to find out, but he was right, as always. The call came from the center fielder on the other team. His uniform was very rumpled. He obviously didn’t pat down his shirt and straighten out his pants like Katsuyuki does after every game. After every at-bat even. Apparently the other boy didn’t care about that at all, because the dirt stains from his reckless steal looked as bright as they were when he first got them.
It was a good steal. The timing, the run, the aim, the target, the success. All of it was fine. It wasn’t really reckless. Maybe Katsuyuki is a little upset about their loss. Your loss, the little voice in the back of his head reminds him. He shakes it away. This boy is still staring at him, waiting for a reply. His stance is relaxed and certain. Confident.
Katsuyuki remembered the way he was always moving after he captured, and it was a capture, second base. Not the twitchiness some people have when the catcher’s more tense and the pitcher’s form is more open, or the lax confidence of some of the third years who stand a foot’s length away from the white rubber square. It was a languid shifting from side to side, balancing his weight on two very long legs. Not that Katsuyuki was looking at them. He was just being cautious when faced with a dangerous runner. Hayakawa on second base wasn’t the most observant, so it was always up to Katsuyuki to cover. He was the better player, so it didn’t bother him.
“Hey,” the boy said, again. Katsuyuki didn’t think the pause was that long. Maybe he was just impatient, but he didn’t look upset. He looked... eager. Not hungry. Excited. It wasn’t a bad look.
“You played really well out there,” he continued, eyes lit up. They were a warm brown, a hint of golden amber shining through. That was probably a trick of the setting sun behind Katsuyuki. The heat rising to his face is probably also from that. Maybe the sun is closer to the earth right now, and that would be why his whole body feels warmer.
“We lost,” Katsuyuki replied, because there wasn’t anything else to say. “So that doesn’t matter.”
“Not even a thank you?” the boy laughed, but he didn’t sound offended. “Well, that doesn’t matter either. I didn’t tell you to get thanks. I told you because it’s true. What’s your name?”
I didn’t tell you to get thanks? What the hell did that mean? Katsuyuki didn’t think he even wanted to start trying to figure that out. He could focus on the second to last sentence instead.
It was true that Katsuyuki always played well, but it was also true that he lost. However well he did doesn’t matter when it’s against the scoreboard. The boy, why hadn’t he introduced himself yet, hadn’t commented on that. So he wasn’t here to gloat. He also wasn’t being flattering. Was he here just for his name? Katsuyuki might as well give it to him. What harm would that do?
“Shirakawa Katsuyuki.” A little snappish, or maybe a lot. Katsuyuki can’t be blamed for it. He had just lost a game, and this boy was being very confusing. And it didn’t look like he cared about Katsuyuki’s rudeness, so he could indulge.
The boy laughed again. “I’m Kamiya Carlos Toshiki,” he finally said, sounding even more cheerful now. Katsuyuki didn’t find it obnoxious like he usually would. He can only stare at the bright white of his teeth, shining inside an easy smirk. “It’s nice to meet you, Katsu.”
“Katsu—, what?!” Katsuyuki sputtered, stiffening up and twisting his duffel bag strap underneath his palm. “Who said you could call me that?”
“Who didn’t?” Kamiya replied, eyebrows raised up innocently. That was a complete lie, because the way his eyes were laughing was anything but innocent.
“I didn’t,” Katsuyuki said. His whole body felt hot and sweaty from the game, but the undeniable blush on his face was definitely out of indignation than anything else. It had to be. Katsuyuki would accept no other explanation. “We just met today, you don’t even know—”
“You can call me Carlos,” Kamiya interrupted him, like that would solve everything. It didn’t, but it did make Katsuyuki’s flush feel even sharper. Carlos said the two syllables with a hint of light teasing behind his tone, something familiar and usually reserved for old friendships. Katsuyuki assumed it was at least, because he’s never heard it before.
“T-that doesn’t excuse you, Carlos,” Katsuyuki stuttered, but his momentary embarrassment was washed away with Carlos’ laugh, higher and more delighted than before.
“You’re actually using it!” he said, and his smile was relaxing from the earlier smirk.
“You told me to,” Katsuyuki argued weakly. He was distracted by how he could tell that Carlos was wearing more of a grin and less of a smirk. When had that happened?
“I did,” Carlos agreed. They were still standing apart from each other, neither making any move closer to the other. Katsuyuki didn’t think any fear of losing was stopping him, he had already lost, but it was more of a promise that it wasn’t time yet. There would be time later, he thought, and it was strangely comforting. Something in the way Carlos’ whole body was relaxed told him that he felt the same.
“Kamiya!” Someone called out from farther behind Carlos. “We’re going to leave you behind if you don’t hurry up!” Carlos didn’t look worried at all by the statement. Why would he, Katsuyuki reflected, if the question was of speed.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Carlos said, and swiveled around to start walking away. The dirt stains were the same on the back of his pants as the front.
“That’s it?” Katsuyuki couldn’t stop himself from saying, even if he immediately regretted the words. What else was he expecting? He still didn’t know Carlos, even if they were apparently on a first name basis. A compliment was more than he could’ve asked for.
“What else did you need?” Carlos asked, head turning back to look at Katsuyuki. He looked nonplussed, mouth blank of any judgement or expectation.
“Nothing,” Katsuyuki replied reflexively, because there wasn’t anything else to say or ask for. Nothing that would be important.
“Alright then, Katsu,” Carlos said, and started walking away again. Katsuyuki didn’t call after him. His tongue was stuck inside his mouth. The blush was slowly starting to recede. But his feet were still rooted to the ground, something not letting him turn around and start walking towards his own exit on the field. Maybe it was hope, a small thing fluttering in his chest.
“Wait,” Carlos said, steps halting in the middle of his long strides. His voice still carried over clearly even though the number on the back of his jersey was a little blurry now. “I did forget one thing.”
Carlos turned around, and his eyes were squeezed shut. Katsuyuki could only watch as he brought his hand up to his mouth, touching the center of lips with three fingers. He paused. Then in a rush, in the speed that Katsuyuki would soon come to associate with Kamiya Carlos Toshiki, he kissed his fingers with a loud smacking sound and threw his arm out in Katsuyuki’s direction. Katsuyuki thought he heard wind rushing past his ears, but that was definitely his imagination.
What the hell, Katuyuki thought helplessly as the strap of his bag started to burn against his fingers for how hard he was gripping it now. What the hell did he just do.
“Alright, bye now!” Carlos yelled, eyes still tightly closed. He was too far away for Katsuyuki to see if there was a blush on his face, but he was probably red enough for the both of them. Carlos jogged the rest of the way to his school’s bus with carefully measured steps. Katsuyuki watched him, hand never relaxing. The bus eventually drove away, leaving Katsuyuki to look at the far off buildings behind it.
“That was definitely a kiss,” he said out loud, just to test if the air or heavens would disagree with him. Nobody responded, but he kinda expected that. The kiss was for him. Nobody else experienced it. That was a kiss from Carlos, to Katsu. Their kiss.
Katsuyuki licked his lips experimentally. The taste of defeat wasn’t as bitter anymore. Huh.