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Miyuki should’ve seen it coming, honestly. Why even wear glasses if you’re not going to use them? But as he walks with Kuramochi to the cafeteria, he doesn’t see the rosin bag hurtling toward him at a high speed until it smacks him in the face, and his glasses go flying into the wind.
Beside him, Kuramochi erupts in hysterical laughter.
“What the fuck was that?” Miyuki squints in the direction the bag came from, everything blurry. It doesn’t take long for someone very familiar to come into focus, though.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Sawamura calls, running over, the unmistakable pink hair of Haruichi trailing behind him.
Sawamura. Of course. Miyuki sighs, though a faint smirk plays about his lips. “Ah. I should’ve known,” he laments, kneeling to search the ground for his glasses.
“I’ll help you find them!” Sawamura declares, leaping forward with a loud crunch.
Well.
Shit.
Kuramochi stops laughing abruptly. Miyuki closes his eyes, drawing on every ounce of patience within him.
“Eijun-kun . . .” Haruichi’s soft, reproachful voice breaks the tense silence, making Sawamura jump back instinctively
“It’s fine! I’m sure it’s fine!” he yells, dropping to his knees in front of Miyuki.
Miyuki sits back on his heels, picking up the glasses gingerly. Even without a prescription, he can see that they’re done for. The frame is twisted, the glass in one eyehole visibly cracked.
“I can fix it!” Sawamura insists, reaching forward to take them carefully from Miyuki. Their fingers brush, and Miyuki quickly pulls his hand away, his treacherous heart tripping over itself. “Come on, Glasses-san.”
“Ah, don’t mind,” Miyuki says, attempting to sound as normal as possible and not like his heart didn’t just try to escape his throat. Honestly, he’s tried to get rid of these pesky feelings for Sawamura, but alas. He’s grown fond of the boy, despite his best efforts. Even now, he can’t even be that angry with him, even though these are the only pair of glasses he has.
Sawamura should come with a warning sign.
“I can order new ones,” Miyuki says, waving Sawamura off dismissively.
“No! I’m gonna fix it! I’m taking responsibility!” Sawamura declares, surprising Miyuki.
He can’t help but lean forward to observe as best he can, squinting in an attempt to see better what Sawamura’s doing. He can sense Kuramochi’s presence leaning in over his shoulder, and Haruichi’s bent over Sawamura, all of them focused on Sawamura’s valiant attempt to save Glasses-san.
He does his best to carefully twist the wire frame back into place. As soon as he does, the cracked glass tumbles out of the frame, hitting the sand between him and Miyuki. They stare at it a moment in dismay, before Sawamura cries out,
“NOOOOOOOO, GLASSES-SAN!”
“Eijun-kun.” Haruichi places a consoling hand on Sawamura’s shoulder. “I’m afraid Glasses-san has died.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! You have your contacts, right? You wear them at games!” Sawamura lifts his eyes to look at Miyuki hopefully.
Miyuki can’t help but chuckle. The whole situation is ridiculous. “Nope! I ran out last week, remember?”
Sawamura grimaces.
“Ah, well, it’s my own fault, I guess!” Miyuki rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “I should’ve ordered them sooner.” His hand falls to the side as a sudden thought hits him. “This time though . . . what the hell were you even doing?”
“Um, pitching?”
“With a rosin bag?”
“While closing his eyes,” Haruichi adds helpfully.
Sawamura gapes at his friend, obviously stung by this betrayal. “Harucchi?!”
Kuramochi bursts out laughing again. “Only you, Sawamura!”
Miyuki shakes his head. He doesn’t need to know what Sawamura was thinking. Pitching with his eyes closed? Ridiculous. He has to hide a smile behind his hand, as he makes a show of thinking over what to do next. “Well, I was going to order more contacts this weekend, so I guess I’ll just order another pair of glasses, too.” He wonders if he can somehow get Sawamura to pay for them. He was directly responsible for breaking them. If he makes a big deal of the inconvenience, Sawamura will probably offer to pay for them out of guilt.
“Man, it’s really going to make things difficult. I’ll have to wait for them to get here, and who knows how long that’ll take. I’ll be running into walls, people, animals . . . unable to do my homework or give advice on the field . . .”
“I’ll do it!” Sawamura exclaims.
Miyuki smirks. Gotcha!
“Do what?” he asks, feigning innocence.
“I’ll be your eyes!”
“Eh?!” What?
Miyuki stares blankly at Sawamura, as Kuramochi continues laughing, nearly doubled over at this point. Sawamura’s face is etched with determination, an intense light in his eyes that mirrors the one he has while pitching. Miyuki’s stomach flips over involuntarily, and he stiffens, as Sawamura strides forward and grabs his hand, lifting it in the air between them.
“I’ll be your eyes! I’ll lead you around so you won’t run into people! I’ll do your homework! I’ll tell you what’s happening on the field! I’ll be the best eyes you could ever ask for! This will be my redemption!”
The back of Miyuki’s neck is much too warm, and he’s all too aware of Sawamura’s palm against his. This is not at all what he meant.
Still, there might be benefits to this.
“Don’t touch my homework,” he says, wanting to make that clear from the start. “But other than that, sure. You can keep me from running into anyone and be my eyes on the field. You have to come when I call, bring me whatever I want, and not leave my side unless I say you can. Got it?”
“ROGER!”
“You’re ruthless, Miyuki!” Kuramochi says gleefully.
Miyuki smirks. “Hey, the kid offered. What am I gonna do, refuse? Nah, I’m looking forward to having a manservant of my own. Besides, look how happy he is.”
“MAKE WAY! EVERYONE MAKE WAY FOR THE CAPTAIN!” Sawamura shouts, pulling Miyuki forward, as he walks off the field.
“Eijun-kun, we’re the only ones here,” Haruichi says pointedly.
Miyuki has to admit, it’s pretty nice being waited on. During meals, Sawamura brings him everything he asks for, running back and forth from the buffet until Miyuki allows him to sit down with his own food. It’s a little cruel, perhaps, but it’s not like the kid doesn’t have the energy for it.
The others snicker at first when they see Sawamura leading Miyuki around by the hand, but all Miyuki has to do is smile and give them extra laps around the field and they shut up about it.
Sawamura turns out to be rather handy on the field. He has a sharp eye, calling out inaccuracies and encouraging those that do well. Miyuki barely has to do anything other than sit back and watch. Well, as best he can. Everything’s a mess of colorful blurs, and he’s unable to pick out any faces or numbers. It’s frustrating, especially since he can’t play, but it’s only temporary.
Their teammates don’t really listen to Sawamura at first, but when Miyuki steps up and tells them to listen, they do. It still unnerves him, how easily they all defer to him. He’s the captain, but in times like this that fact stands out clearly.
“We make a pretty good team, huh Captain?”
Sawamura gives him that giant grin of his, and all Miyuki can do is chuckle and tilt his cap down. “We already were, kid.”
It’s an interesting dynamic that they form. Of course, they’ve been teammates this whole time, but with Sawamura playing captain alongside him, they feel more like peers than ever. Their battery makes them partners, but this brings with it an entirely new level, one that excites Miyuki as much as he pretends it doesn’t.
He finds himself hoping his glasses take a longer to arrive. Just a day or two more. Or even a week. He wouldn’t mind if they were delayed for a week. Or two. Okay, after that being blind will really get annoying, but until then . . .
Of course, fate isn’t so kind. Five days later, after practice, he comes back to his room to find two packages waiting for him. When he opens them, there are a new batch of contacts and a brand spanking new pair of glasses. How fortunate.
Miyuki sets the packages on the floor and kicks them under the bed.
Just for a few more days.
***
Sawamura skips to the cafeteria, whistling as he swings Miyuki’s hand between them.
“This isn’t a very effective way to lead, you know,” Miyuki says. He nearly runs into Zono, giving the guy a sheepish grin, as Sawamura continues to tug him past. “You’re not even looking out for people!”
“Sorry!” Sawamura slows down, steering Miyuki around the next people they come across. “I’m just excited!”
He pauses, like he’s waiting for Miyuki to ask what he’s excited about. Miyuki lets him wait. And wait. Sawamura tugs on his hand insistently.
“Okay, okay, excited for what?” Miyuki relents with a laugh.
“I’ve been perfecting my Blind Rosin Throw, and I think I’ve almost got it!”
“Ah, so you’re coming after Glasses-kun’s extended family now, are you?”
“Not at all! You know, I was doing it in the first place to improve my accuracy, and I think it’s working!”
“How does pitching with your eyes closed improve accuracy?” This kid truly is ridiculous. Shit, why does Miyuki want to kiss him so badly? He should probably get his own head checked.
“It’s all about taking into account the wind and the sounds and the feel of it, you know? Honing my senses! Being able to use everything in my pitching!”
“Hmm. Not bad.” Miyuki has to admit that, if it works, it’s a rather ingenious plan.
“Once you get your glasses, I’ll show you!”
“Ah. Yes. Sounds good.”
Miyuki does his best not to feel guilty about deceiving Sawamura. Usually he doesn’t, but for some reason this time is different. Yes, Sawamura broke his glasses and deserves to be punished for it, but is this really punishment? He seems to enjoy leading Miyuki around by the hand, being his co-captain of sorts, and fetching things for him, never even complaining about it, and he complains about everything. Miyuki keeping him as his personal assistant, without pay even, is taking advantage, for sure. Especially now that he has his glasses and contacts.
But still, he can’t seem to pull his hand away from Sawamura and tell him the truth.
Nothing gold can stay, however, and fate deals him another blow. Punishment, surely, for lying to Sawamura in the first place.
They’re in Miyuki’s room; Sawamura searching for a deck of cards, while Miyuki changes shirts.
“Gah! Where are they? Are you sure you have them and not Kuramochi-senpai?”
“I had them last. They might be over by the bedside table,” Miyuki says, not turning to look.
“Aha! I found them! They fell!” Sawamura exclaims. “They’re under the bed.”
Shit!
Miyuki turns around quickly. “Wait, Sawamura—”
It’s too late. Sawamura pulls out the two packages, looking at them quizzically. He picks up the glasses case and the box of contacts, looking between one and then the other, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Miyuki sighs. “Okay, okay, you got me,” he says, putting his hands up. “Arrest me officer!” He throws back his head and laughs, shrugging off the painful squeeze he feels around his chest.
“But . . . if you had them, why did you pretend you didn’t?” Sawamura asks quizzically.
Miyuki descends upon the packages quickly, taking the glasses case from Sawamura’s hands and opening it. He slips the new pair on, blinking as everything suddenly sharpens into crystal-clear focus. He stands quickly so he doesn’t have to see Sawamura’s face, crossing to the mirror to examine his reflection.
“Ah, well, you see, you were being such a good indentured servant, I didn’t want to give it up! You’re much too fun to order around, Sawamura! Hahaha!” He throws back his head and laughs again, forcing it through his closed windpipe.
Sawamura’s frown darkens. He stands, setting the contacts down. “You mean this whole time you’ve been messing with me?!”
Miyuki grins and holds up two fingers in a peace sign. “Yep!”
“Argh! You! You’re!!” Sawamura’s face is turning red, as he points at Miyuki. “You sneaky tanuki!”
“Hey, you seemed to be enjoying it yourself,” Miyuki says, holding his hands out to the side.
“You think I liked getting you food and washing your cleats and helmet and-and holding your hand and being your captain eyes—”
“Didn’t you?” Miyuki asks with a sharp grin, doing his best to hide his true interest in the answer.
Sawamura sputters. “No! I mean, yes, a little. I liked being your captain eyes and-and the hand holding wasn’t bad, but no! You still tricked me!”
Miyuki crosses the dorm room to stand directly in front of Sawamura. With his new glasses, he doesn’t miss the way Sawamura gulps at their sudden proximity. Miyuki blinks. That, along with the admittance that he liked holding hands . . . could it be?
“You liked holding my hand, huh?” Miyuki asks, still smirking.
“Yes! NOT AT ALL!” Sawamura exclaims, his face still red.
“Is that a yes or a not at all?” Miyuki asks, reaching for Sawamura’s hand. He slides their fingers together, glancing down as he laces them. When he looks back up at Sawamura’s face, it’s growing even redder, if that’s possible.
“Both! Neither! ARGH! YOU’RE CONFUSING ME!” Sawamura shouts in Miyuki’s face but he doesn’t snatch his hand away.
Miyuki’s smile softens. “I like holding your hand too,” he admits, not even sure why he’s doing so, except that Sawamura looks really cute right now and his hand feels warm and good in Miyuki’s.
“You do?” Sawamura’s eyes are incredibly wide. He glances down at their hands, and his ears are crimson too.
“Yes,” Miyuki states honestly. Honestly, at this point, what the hell, right? “How about . . . we don’t stop?”
“Don’t stop?”
“Holding hands.”
Sawamura swallows hard, again, as he pulls his gaze back up to meet Miyuki’s. “You mean you want to keep holding hands, even though you can see?”
“That’s right.”
“Um, why?”
Miyuki huffs out a laugh, does he really have to spell it out for the kid? Taking Sawamura’s chin in his free hand, he tilts the guy’s chin just enough to slot his mouth over Sawamura’s lips, kissing him softly. Sawamura stiffens, not kissing Miyuki back.
Well.
Shit.
Miyuki pulls back quickly, already moving his hand to the back of his head, as he releases Sawamura’s hand and takes a few steps backwards for good measure. “Ah, that was just a joke! HAHA! You don’t-whaa-hey!”
Sawamura’s grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, and before Miyuki can protest his shirt being stretched out, Sawamura’s lips press hard against his. It’s a clumsy kiss, full of frustration and passion (Sawamura can only do things with passion, it seems). Too much teeth. They clack against Miyuki’s before he can steady them, grabbing the back of Sawamura’s neck to tilt his head, sliding his lips back against Sawamura’s more elegantly, guiding the other into a more natural kiss, a better one.
When he pulls away, Sawamura’s face continues to glow like a traffic light.
“I ACCEPT!” he exclaims.
“I haven’t even said anything yet,” Miyuki laughs.
“OH! SORRY! GO AHEAD!”
Miyuki smirks, considering it for a moment before releasing Sawamura and taking a step back. “Nah.”
“You—”
Miyuki snatches the deck of cards from the floor, saluting Sawamura with it, as he steps toward the door. “Well? Aren’t you coming?”
“YOU CAN’T JUST—”
“It’s a lovely evening for playing cards, don’t you think?”
“MIYUKI-SENPAI, YOU CAN’T JUST KISS ME AND THEN NOT CONFESS! IT’S RUDE!”
Miyuki laughs, turning back around. “Alright, alright, stop shouting,” he says, stepping back over to Sawamura. He takes the guy’s hand again with a grin. “Yes, I like you. I hid my glasses and contacts so you would still hold my hand. It’s embarrassing, but I own it. What are you gonna do about it?”
Sawamura’s chest puffs out. “This!” he exclaims, grabbing Miyuki in a tight hug.
Miyuki’s surprised by it, and it takes him a second to hug Sawamura back, hiding a smile into his partner’s shoulder. “Okay, okay, enough mushiness for one night,” he says, stepping out of the hug after a moment. “You going to play cards with us or what?”
“What do I get if I win? More kisses?” Sawamura asks excitedly.
“Absolutely not, I’m not kissing you in front of the others.”
“But whyyyyy? They’ve already seen us holding hands!”
“That’s different!”
Sawamura shakes his head, grinning widely. “What? Are you scared you’re gonna lose?”
“Of course not.” Miyuki hardly ever loses a card game. And if he does, it’s usually to Kuramochi.
“So, make the bet!” Sawamura points at him. “If I win, I get another kiss!”
“And if I win, you have to keep fetching me things for another week.”
Sawamura holds out his hand, and Miyuki takes it to shake, a shiver running down his spine involuntarily at the intense gaze Sawamura sends him.
“Deal.”
Miyuki briefly wonders if he’s made a mistake, but no. Sawamura is terrible at card games. His poker face is awful.
“Come on! The others are waiting for us!” Sawamura calls from the doorway, like he hadn’t been the one they were waiting on.
Miyuki shakes his head, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, as he steps toward the door. Once there, Sawamura snatches up his hand with a grin. His eyes sparkle, and with the new glasses it’s like Miyuki’s seeing them for the first time.
Even if Sawamura came with warning signs, Miyuki would just pretend he couldn’t see them.
Poor eyesight does come with benefits after all.