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“oi, tajima.”
tajima turned his head, smiling, at the sound of hanai’s voice. “yeah?”
“do you talk to that nakazawa guy? you know, the one from tosei.”
tajima suddenly felt his face heat up very quickly. he coughed. “uh,” he managed eloquently, “sometimes. yeah.”
“really?! abe mentioned you got his email, but i wasn’t sure you’d even remember him! he’s tosei’s reserve catcher, isn’t he?”
tajima thought hanai looked overly excited at this news, and felt his stomach drop in a strange way.
tajima remembered riou nakazawa very well. almost too well, considering the reserve catcher was benched for the entirety of the game, and the two had just barely exchanged a couple of sentences in person. but he remembered it. tajima remembered the flustered mess the other boy had been, how he’d stumbled over his request for tajima’s email, how they had stared at each other for a second too long, faces almost too close. most of all, tajima remembered the colour of nakazawa’s eyes.
tajima was dragged out of his thoughts by a sharp prod in his side, and schooled his expression into one that hopefully didn’t scream ‘i’ve been thinking about riou nakazawa entirely too much since we met’.
“ow! yeah, reserve catcher.” he replied, as he jabbed hanai back twice as hard.
hanai whacked his hand out of the way, scowling. “is that any way to treat your captain? show some respect!”
the two bickered back and forth harmlessly for the rest of the lunch period, hanai informing tajima of his plan to set up a practice game with tosei using tajima’s “double agent tactics”.
later that day, tajima lay on his bed, as his fingers hovered over his phone keyboard.
my captain told me i’m ‘fraternising with the enemy’, he eventually decided on, and a reply came more quickly than he’d expected.
the enemy!? tajima... i really thought we were friends by now (ಥ﹏ಥ) i’m wounded!
a smile tugged easily at the corner of tajima’s lips. he really thought nakazawa was his friend too. they texted, and called, and nakazawa listened to every one of tajima’s blow-by-blow recounts of impossible balls he’d managed to connect with, or in-depth descriptions of the bento he’d brought to school that day, as well as his disappointment in himself when he finished it all before lunch. in turn, tajima sat, enraptured by nakazawa’s stories about the dog he saw on his walk to school, the really fluffy one, and his definitive ranking of every ice cream flavour he had ever tried.
yeah, they were friends. and just as soon as tajima figured out how to stop blushing inexplicably every time one of his teammates mentioned nakazawa’s name, he would set up that practice game.