Archive of Our Own

Youichi fell in love with Ryousuke on a Tuesday, right after class ended. 

As they made their way from the main building to the dorms, cutting through the baseball field (Ryousuke claimed it was faster that way), it had started to pour. Heavy, fat raindrops splattered down on them as they laughed and raced towards the dugout, ducking under the small space for shelter. 

“Man, it’s really coming down,” Youichi commented, as he'd peaked out from under the hood of the dugout. His uniform shoes squelched under the dirt-caked tile beneath his soles. “I hope it doesn’t start thundering.”

“Why?” Ryousuke implored, not missing a beat. He grinned that cunning little grin, spreading easily across his rosy lips. “Scared of a little lightning, Kuramochi?” 

“Ha,” Youichi had barked out a bout of nervous laughter because he was but like hell he’d ever let Ryousuke know that. “No way!”

“I bet you are,” Ryousuke had drawled out, leaning forward and reaching up to tuck a loose strand of pink hair behind his ear. 

Youichi almost gulped, staring down at his senpai. The rain swelled in his ears, the roar of the wind and the sound of water pelting onto the concrete surrounding them. 

Looking back, it had probably been the most cliche moment of realization and he was just a puny little first year, huddled up in the dugout to escape the rain but, in that one sudden instant, Youichi’s whole world had come to a halt. 

Ryousuke went from looking like his sadistic upperclassman, who always had biting criticism about Youichi’s skills (never, not once, sugarcoating his harsh words), to looking like the most gorgeous human to ever walk the Earth. 

It was all too much to take in— the way his rosy hair was damp, stuck to his forehead and glistening, the way his cheeks had been dusted with the slightest hint of a blush, his creased eyes, and full lips. 

He was a seductress and knew it up, jutting out where the wonderful curves of his body bent. He was dangerous and beautiful and breathtaking, all at once. Everything scary and foreign wrapped into a small, enticing package. 

Ever since that Tuesday, Youichi never thought of anyone else. 

To say that he didn’t know how Ryousuke felt was an understatement— probably the biggest understatement in the whole world— because Youichi didn’t have a single fucking clue. And he was okay with that for the most part. He wasn’t an obsessive maniac, like Sawamura. He was mature, or so he liked to say. 

And he was fine with being unsure of Ryousuke’s feelings. He’d held them in for months; held them in as they lost to Inashiro in the semi-finals. Held them in as he became a Second Year and Ryousuke became a Third Year and life moved on. 

It didn’t quite matter to him, which had been odd at first. He would’ve thought that he’d go crazy, not knowing if Ryousuke liked him back or not but, no, not really. He was happy just to be around the elder. 

Happy that he got to play alongside him as Seido’s Iron Wall of Defense. Youichi learned to indulge himself with little moments, casual smiles, and quick quips of the tongue. 

Ryousuke was a curious creature, the greatest enigma Youichi’d ever come across. He was just as quick on his feet as he was with his wit, always challenging— no, daring— Youichi to keep up. 

And for the most part, Youichi did. 

No, it wasn’t until they lost to Inashiro a second time, in Youichi’s second Summer Tournament, because this time everything changed. 

Suddenly, before Youichi could even reconcile what was happening, Ryousuke disappeared from his life with no warning.

The days they’d spent, sweating in Field A under the harsh sun, vanished. There were no more midnight-vending-machine runs, reviewing game footage together or video game tournaments where Ryousuke—refusing to play—made commentary as Youichi’s fingers skillfully flew across the controls.

It all… ceased to exist, as if, perhaps, it never happened in the first place. 

“Ryou-san,” he said, mouth dry. He’d managed to catch Ryousuke in the hallway, just a week or so after the loss, the familiar head of bubble-gum pink hair flashing in his peripheral vision. “H-how’s your leg?”

“All better now,” Ryousuke replied. His expression was unreadable. “A bit too late, though, hmm?”

Despite the sickeningly delivery, his words were bitter. 

Youichi opened his mouth to say something but another voice cut him off.

“Kuramochi, we gotta get going,” Zono called, waving to him. Youichi’s eyes flickered from Zono to Ryousuke, faltering. 

Slowly, Ryousuke turned his back, petite arms tucked in the small of his back. 

No, Youichi’s thoughts told him, nothing is the same. 

“Don’t keep Zono waiting,” Ryousuke piped up, waving him off.  

I miss you, Youichi wanted to say. It’s not the same without you. 

I love you. 

“I’ll see you around Ryou-san,” was what came out of his mouth as he watched his senpai walk away. 

“We’ll see.” 

Youichi downloaded InstaMate on a Tuesday, buried under his thick blanket with the harsh blue-light of his phone burning his retinas. 

It was an impulsive decision, made by his exhausted brain after 5 hours of intense fielding drills and batting practice but Youichi watched, with veiled eyes, as the app loaded onto his home screen. 

An anonymous messaging app for teens to make friends and find support was how the app marketed itself, but no one truly used it for that purpose. It was a dating app (a hook-up app). 

An app where lonely, pathetic people flocked to, in hopes of making some superficial connection. And, though Youichi hated to admit it, he fit that category to a tee.

It was 2:14 in the morning now and he’d made the executive decision to get over Ryousuke at 2:13, leaving exactly no time for any semblance of critical thought. But their interaction from a couple of days ago was seared into Youichi’s mind, playing on repeat and making his stomach churn, horribly. 

The realization that their relationship had been—will always be— strictly in the terms of baseball was like a slap to the face. Now that they were no longer teammates, it was clear that Ryousuke didn’t want anything to do with him. 

I’m so fucking stupid, Youichi thought, burying his face in his pillow, of course he wouldn’t. All I remind him of is our loss to Inashiro. All I remind him of is the fact that he’s retired and I still have a chance. All I—

The app finished downloading. 

Sawamura’s far-too-loud snoring filled the room as Youichi tapped his fingers across the screen, sliding the pad of his thumb across his phone as he added his preferences, location, and age. 

Male, West Tokyo, 17. 

Since it was anonymous, he selected a generic photo of his baseball bat as his profile picture and set his name as Sonic (in a haze of drowsiness, he thought that naming himself after his Smash Bro main was not only extremely clever but downright genius). 

Then, he headed towards the Match feature and swiped through profiles quickly, shuffling through as many as possible without much thought. 

Only a couple of minutes later, a soft ding alerted him to a match and his eyes widened in surprise at how fast it worked.

Sitting up, pillow held tightly to his chest, he leaned his back against the wall as he pressed on the profile that InstaMate connected him with. 

Sakura, it read, Male, 18. West Tokyo. 

Youichi, in spite of himself, laughed a little, even though it wasn’t funny.

Sakura. He had always thought that Ryousuke’s hair looked like sakura flowers in the Spring, soft pinks that danced in the wind and fell across his forehead in wisps of delicate hues. 

Sakura’s profile picture was simple, just a sky picture that reminded Youichi of a summer afternoon. Before Youichi could think too much, analyze his profile, a little red bubble popped up in the corner of Youichi’s inbox—a message. 

Sakura
up so late? 

Sonic
i could say the same to you lol

Sakura
baseball, huh?
you play?

 

Youichi grinned as he typed out his messages, suddenly feeling very awake. 

Sonic
yeah. a lot actually. 
how about you?

Sakura
from time to time i suppose
what’s with the username? 

Sonic
what??
can’t a guy name himself after a video game character?

Sakura
right, bc that’s not pathetic at all

Sonic
hey lets call a spade a spade
we’re both a little pathetic rn aren’t we? 
if we werent, we wouldn’t b on this app at 2am 

Sakura
i suppose ur right
not the best first impression tho, hmm? 

There was a pause in the messages and Youichi was about to type a response when his phone buzzed for a third time. 

Sakura
so i’m guessing ur looking for a hookup? 

Sonic
i mean
not really??

Sakura
then what are you doing on this app, idiot? 

Sonic
promise me u wont laugh
its kinda dumb

Sakura
i cant promise that

Sonic
i’ve been in love with one of the senpais in my club for about a year now and he’s definitely not interested in me 
ik a lot of ppl use this as a hookup app but i just wanted a place to b anonymous and try to get over him by talking to other people 
im too busy for a hookup plus i live w other ppl so its kinda impossible atm 

Sakura
way to dump all ur baggage onto a stranger
oh well i guess it cant b helped
if you rly want to talk to someone that badly, i guess u can talk to me

Sonic
really?? 
thanks man 

Sakura
and in case ur wondering… 
ive never used this app to hookup either
im not stupid enough to go meet someone on an anonymous messaging app, that’s just asking for danger
i downloaded it recently just like you

Sonic
yeah? why? 

Sakura
to take my mind off something that happened not too long ago.
messaging idiots online is more amusing than wallowing in self-pity 

Sonic
did you just call me an idiot online?

Sakura
no, never >;)

Youichi bit back a laugh. 

This is going better than I expected, he thought before glancing at the clock. 3:07. Is it that late already? He hadn’t realized how long he’d been up, already dreading morning practice tomorrow. 

Well, it wasn’t like he’d gotten much sleep since their Inashiro loss anyway. Biting his bottom lip, he typed out a goodbye message to Sakura, a new type of warmth blossoming in his gut as he did. 

Sonic
i have to go to bed soon 
it was nice talking to u sakura

Sakura
likewise.
don’t let the demons bite. 

Sonic
isn't the phrase " dont let the bed bugs bite ?"

Sakura
same difference

 

When Youichi woke up the next day, he blinked, blearily. Everything felt muddled in a cloud of sleepiness, the world shifting uncontrollably in his vision and for just a second, he wondered if he’d dreamed up Sakura. 

He reached for his phone, yanking it out of the charger and, despite everything, he broke out in a grin when he saw the notification awaiting him, sent just a few minutes prior. 

Sakura
hope you don’t fall asleep in class today 

Maybe, Youichi thought as he quickly typed out a response, tongue sticking out of the corner of his lip in concentration, this wasn’t that bad of an idea, after all.

Sonic
wait u live in west tokyo right??
and u play baseball? does ur school have a team?
mayb we played each other in a tournament once

Sakura
im not telling u that

Sonic
WHAT?? WHY?? 

Sakura
idiot
what if ur a serial killer? why would i give you that information?
are ur self preservations skills that low?

Sonic
well what if UR a serial killer? then what?

Sakura
that would be pretty funny, actually.
two serial killers, cat fishing each other on a teen messaging app
well, stranger things have happened. 

Ever since he downloaded InstaMate, Youichi found himself reaching for his phone more and more. He and Sakura had been talking every night and Youichi began to look forward to their little conversations. He’d shoot off a message in between classes, make a quick joke before practice and have long conversations under the cover of midnight. 

Sakura, he’d come to learn, was wildly funny— had a cunning yet dry sense of humor. He had a little brother, he loved horror movies and long, wordy books that Youichi could never get through. He always made fun of people, told Youichi stories about his classmates and friends that made Youichi grin, wildly. 

They kept names private, of course, but something about the way Sakura wrote about his friends made Youichi feel like he knew them too. 

And, craziest of all, Youichi’s thoughts stopped drifting to Ryousuke as much.

Or, at least, he thought they did until about two weeks after Youichi first downloaded the app.

It was mid-afternoon during 5th period when Youichi asked to go to the bathroom. He escaped Japanese History, clutching his phone in his hand, opened up to his chat log with Sakura. 

Thumbs flying across the keyboard, Youichi quickly typed out an anecdote about what Miyuki had said during lunch (careful to leave out the catcher, now captain’s, name).

“You should watch where you’re going,” said a familiar voice, breaking Youichi out of his thoughts. Ryousuke. His heart stilled in his chest, falling to the pits of his stomach. 

Quickly, before he even knew what he was doing, he shut off his phone and shoved it into his pocket. Almost like he was ashamed. 

“R-Ryou-san,” he managed to stutter out, face red and palms clammy. Ryousuke looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow at Youichi's direction. 

“You’re acting suspiciously nervous,” he commented because he could always read Youichi better than anyone else, balancing on his balls on his heel.

“What are you talking about?” Youichi chuckled, playing dumb as he rubbed a sheepish hand across the back of his neck. “I’m just heading to the bathroom.” 

Quietness then settled between them, awkward and thick, as Youichi stared at Ryousuke.

The beams of sun streaming in through the windows that lined the hallway illuminated the third year’s figure, limning him in a golden glow. He peered at Youichi through the hoods of his eyelids and the shortstop could just barely make out his irises; red, hard-set like garnet. Beautiful and rare. 

It’s no use, Youichi thought, helplessly, he’ll always be so unfairly gorgeous. No amount of wishing and willing, filling the void with texts to a stranger, would reverse that fact in Youichi’s mind. 

Ryousuke would always be that one-of-a-kind type of stunning. Breathtakingly menacing in all his effortless elegance. 

“How’s practice?” asked Ryousuke, breaking the silence. 

“It’s… it’s strange without you guys,” Youichi admitted, voice uncharacteristically soft, “but we’re gearing up for the Fall Tournament.”

“That’s starting soon, hmmm?” 

“Just two and a half weeks,” Youichi agreed. Then, after a tentative pause, “Will you come watch us?”

“No,” Ryousuke replied, simply, waving his hand in dismissal, “I’m not going to waste my time unless you make it to the Finals. Then, we’ll see.”

“We will,” Youichi answered, insistently, without hesitation. “I promise, we will. We’ll make it all the way, Ryou-san… for you guys.”

Ryousuke was silent for a minute, a dark shadow passing over his delicately drawn features. 

“We don’t need your favors,” he replied, voice deadly yet soft at the same time. “Don’t do it for us, Kuramochi. Do it for yourselves.” 

Sonic
remember the senpai i was telling you about? 
i saw him today
fuck
im still in love with him

“Why are you always on your phone?” Sawamura, that meddling little brat, asked, peering over Youichi’s shoulder. 

“None of your damn business,” Youichi snapped, closing the InstaMate app before Sawamura’s eyes could see. 

Jutting out his lower lip in a petulant pout, Sawamura replied, “You’ve been acting weird, though, Kuramochi-senpai. You’re always smiling at your phone and laughing… it’s kind of creepy, to be honest.”

“You— I’ll kill you, you brat!” shouted Youichi, flinging his phone onto the bed and grabbing Sawamura in a headlock, all in one fluid motion. 

But, said a voice in the back of his head, he’s right. 

Sakura’s presence, in only the span of a couple of weeks, had become undeniable in his life. He was the first person Youichi talked to when he woke up and the last person he spoke to before he went to bed.

Through tiny lines of text, lit up by a harsh light, he felt like he genuinely knew the guy. Understood him in a weird way. 

And yet… (because, when you’re in love with Kominato Ryousuke, there will always be an ‘and yet…’)

Something felt wrong. Deep inside him, he felt icky. 

He felt like a traitor because he already knew someone with a wicked, sadistic sense of humor. He already knew someone who loved to watch horror movies and teased Youichi, mercilessly, for his love of video games.

It felt like, in the simplest terms, he was betraying his first love, even if it was an unrequited one. 

It felt downright wrong and dirty to say that he only liked Sakura because Sakura reminded him of a certain second baseman but, at the same time, it felt just as filthy to simply exchange his feelings for Ryousuke with Sakura. 

How can I say that I truly care about either, he wondered, late at night as he tossed and turned in his bed, if I only like them because they’re replicas of each other? 

His phone buzzed (he’d grown accustomed to the sound) and Youichi sat up, knowing exactly who it could be, eager to take his mind off his worries. 

Sakura
are you awake?

Sonic
yeah
whats up?

Sakura
i care very little about your issues but i was doing something thinking and i want to hear another perspective
this senpai that you like… 
how did you start to like him?

Sonic
are you sure you don’t care? sounds like u wanna know abt me

Sakura
dont make me block you

Sonic
LOL jk
well it happened slowly ig
but also all at once

Sakura
that’s very unhelpful, thank u so much

Sonic
HEY
its not like i can explain it very well yk
like he was always very cool but one day i just started seeing him in a new light
then everything he did that once felt normal
felt special

Sakura
hmm 
interesting 

Sonic
why?
u falling in love?

Sakura
wouldn’t you like to know
deal with your own disaster of a love life before you concern yourself with mine 
ok i’m going to go now

Sonic
talk to u tmrw :-)

The Fall Tournament started and, though it took immense willpower that Youichi didn’t even know he had, he stopped texting Sakura for the time being, opting to focus solely on his main priority— getting to Koshien. 

Through it was a grueling and emotionally-taxing couple of weeks, they’d managed to claw their way to the Finals, beat Yakushi, and earn their spot in Koshien Stadium, finally grasping the dream that had once slipped between the cracks of their fingers. 

On the Jingu field, right around the third inning, he had managed to spot Ryousuke in the stands; that pink hair, distinct and bright, watching over him as they played. 

You told me to do it for ourselves, he couldn’t help but think, as he had stood in the batter’s box in anticipation, but I want to do it for you. 

He didn’t know if it was stupid, blind love (if it was baseless devotion, dedication that he couldn’t shake no matter how much he wanted to be rid of the feelings) but when they won— when they struck out that final batter— he hoped that Ryousuke knew… I’m doing it for you. 

Miyuki, that damn megane-tanuki, had been injured the whole time and Youichi, right after they clenched the win, went with him and Zono to the hospital, opting out of the post-game celebration. 

They didn’t get back to the dorms until late at night, the sun long set and darkness blanketing the sky. An autumn chill settled in the air, sending shivers that crawled up Youichi’s spine. 

“I’ll take him back to his room,” Zono offered, giving Youichi a reassuring grin. “Just go get in the bath and sleep.” 

“You better rest,” Youichi demanded, trying to sound menacing as he wagged a finger at Miyuki (who was on so many painkillers that Youichi wasn’t even sure if the catcher knew where he was). “Or else I’ll beat you up.”

“You can’t beat up an injured person,” Miyuki slurred, slumping over in Zono’s strong hold, “that’s unfair.”

“Just watch me,” threatened Youichi before saying his goodbyes and heading back to his dorm. 

Exhaustion and aches seeped into his overworked muscles, every movement sluggish and forced as he dragged his feet in the direction of Room 5. 

His brain was foggy as he still couldn’t quite comprehend that they won and they were going to Koshien Stadium and god, he could finally talk to Sakura again and—

“Hello, Kuramochi.”

Youichi blinked once. Twice. Tried to make sure he wasn’t just seeing things.

After three blinks, when the image still didn’t go away, he exclaimed with a grin, “Ryou-san! What are you doing here?”

Ryousuke simply returned the smile, back pressed to the wall next to the Room 5 door. An evening breeze blew past them, chilly and brisk, Ryousuke’s bangs fluttering in the wind. 

He looked ethereal in every light, day or night.

“What does it look like, stupid? Waiting for you.” 

“I—“

“Koshien Stadium, huh? Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Ryou-san,” replied Youichi. “It doesn’t really seem real yet.”

Ryousuke let out a chuckle, soft and sultry like a wonderful lilt of musical air. 

“Jun’s jealous, maybe I am too. That play in the fourth inning was incredible. You and Haruichi worked well. Practice that a lot, did you? I remember how long it took you to get that backhand toss right.”

“Yeah,” Youichi sheepishly grinned, tucking his hands between the belt loops of his grass-stained baseball pants. “He’s… really improving, y’know?” 

Ryousuke was quiet, then, looked up at the sky for a few seconds that lasted an eternity, before turning back towards Youichi. His voice was low as he spoke. 

“You didn’t listen to me, did you? You did it for me, right? Did you get a sense of gratification out of it, Kuramochi? Satisfaction?” he stepped forward, arms tucked neatly behind his back. When Ryousuke peered upwards at Youichi, stared at him like he could see the depths of Youichi’s soul— knew all of his deepest secrets and darkest insecurities— it was jarring. Youichi could hear his heart, pounding in his ear and racing a thousand miles per hour.  

“I’ve told Haruichi this again and again,” he continued to say, “I keep saying that he can’t keep walking down my path, trying to be like me. Trying to follow me and do as I do.” 

A pause.  

“And what about you, Kuramochi, what path are you walking down?”

“I don’t… Ryou-san, I don’t understand—“

“Don’t give me that,” Ryousuke interrupted, voice scarily even and straight-toned as Youichi’s shook, wildly. His words were like venom, dangerous and deadly, each stinging worse than the last as they landed punch after punch on Youichi’s heart. “I know you’re smarter than that, Youichi. What do you want?”

I want you. 

“My time is over, Youichi. I have no more chances in high school. I’m going to be playing baseball in college. Don’t waste the rest of your time, worried about me. It’ll be over before you can even blink. If you do, I think you’ll find that you’ll regret it.”

Before Youichi could reply, Ryousuke turned heel and walked away, leaving the lovestruck shortstop in his wake. 

The message was as clear as day, despite being hidden behind layers of traps, endless walls of facade. Youichi wasn’t stupid enough that he couldn’t read in between the lines, no matter how muddled the picture may be. 

Don’t bother with me. I don’t want you. 

Breathless, Youichi choked on bitter tears that he couldn’t stop from coming, falling down his cheeks unceasingly, like the rain that poured on that windy Tuesday when he fell in love with Ryousuke for the first time. 

Sonic
do you play video games?

Sakura
oh please
not the video game talk
spare me

Sonic
well do you?

Sakura
no i dont
someone i know does though, he’s decent

Sonic
decent?? 
man thats high praise coming from you

Sakura
what can i say? my standards remain high in everything 

Sonic
how will you ever be satisfied then??

Sakura
you won’t
but you won’t be let down either. 

Youichi thought he was tough, he loved to put on that intimidating act. He thought he could handle the brunt of life’s misfortunate, take it with a grimace and throw it back at the world with a hyahaha. 

Maybe he overestimated himself because Ryousuke’s rejection hurt. 

It hurt in a way unlike any other hurt Youichi had felt before. It was a deep ache, cutting into the depths of his heart. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear those words echoing, haunting him. 

“Don’t waste the rest of your time, worried about me.” 

He’d always known, in some subconscious way, that Ryousuke wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship. Hell, it had been the reason that he downloaded InstaMate in the first place, but this felt different.

This felt final. 

This felt like Ryousuke didn’t just close the door on his face but, rather, slammed it shut and locked it with a key. 

Even Sawamura noticed the shift in Youichi’s attitude, commenting on it one night as he laid on the floor of their dorm, random manga scattered around him.

“What’s wrong, Kuramochi-senpai?” he asked after dinner one night, Youichi ignoring his gaming console for the third time that week, in favor of curling up in bed and angrily shutting out the world. 

“Nothing,” replied Youichi, lacking the usual bite that his words always held. 

“Are you sure? You seem… down.”

“Don’t you have some tire to pull or some ball to throw?” Youichi shot back. He knew it was harsh and felt a pang of guilt when Sawamura frowned, backing down and letting Youichi wallow in his self-pity. 

His only solace and confidant— the only person who even had a remote clue of his feelings for Ryousuke— was Sakura. He texted him even more now, trying to distract himself from the sad thoughts, stewing in his mind. 

He knew (he knew) that it wasn’t right, forcing his emotions about Ryousuke onto Sakura, especially because they were so similar (eerily so, quite honestly). He knew and yet, even so, he always found himself reaching for his phone. 

Youichi learned the first real information about Sakura on a Tuesday. 

Sonic
hey sakura
have u ever been in love?

Sakura
are u still moping about that senpai?

Sonic
shut up I’m not MOPING 
i thought i was ok w him not liking me back but this time it just
… really hurts

Sakura
to answer ur question
ive almost been in love once

Sonic
almost???

Sakura
yes, almost 
maybe i could’ve loved him if i allowed myself to

Sonic
why didn’t you?

Sakura
nosy, are we? 
not that its any of your business but he was younger than me and i didn’t want to hold him back so i never did anything and i never will

Sonic
thats oddly altruistic of you

Sakura
it wasnt altruistic in the slightest
at the end of the day, it benefitted both of us
i would never have to break his heart and he would never have to be heartbroken

Sonic
not all love ends in heartbreak, you know

Sakura
not all love ends in happiness either 

It was then that Youichi realized he didn’t know Sakura at all. Not really, anyway; not beyond frivolous, shallow stories and a few stray facts that held no real weight. 

He knew Sakura played baseball “from time to time” (whatever the hell that meant, Youichi couldn’t tell you) but he didn’t know if Sakura was on a team. He knew that Sakura downloaded InstaMate in need of a distraction but he didn’t know what Sakura needed to be distracted from.

He knew Sakura’s friends—once Sakura told him a story of a friend who slipped in the bathroom and fell into the sink—but he didn’t really know them. The same way Sakura only knew Miyuki as that “bastard classmate” that he always hung out despite Sakura’s amused wonderings on why he kept hanging out with Miyuki if he was “as bad as you make him seem?” 

They were, when it came down to it, nothing but strangers and Youichi was grasping at straws to fill the space Ryousuke left but that wasn’t fair. 

Sakura, whoever he may be, deserved a real connection. One that Youichi wasn’t giving him. 

And, in the same realization that he didn’t know Sakura at all, he also realized that he wanted to learn more. 

Tentatively, he began to type out a new message. His fingers felt heavy as they dragged across the keyboard. 

Sonic
tell me something no one knows about you

Sakura
i just did

Sonic
no something else 
how about something embarrassing 

Sakura
i dont do embarrassing things

Sonic
thats bullshit
everyone does embarrassing things

Sakura
well… 
once i was upset at my little brother for something or the other
so i threw away his favorite stuffed animal and told him that it ran away because it hated him

Sonic
what the fuck
thats so brutal holy shit 

Sakura
he cried and my mom found out
it was embarrassing i guess

Sonic
thats rly funny LOL

Autumn shifted into Winter, the air grew frigid and the winds became harsher. Youichi dug out the little portable heater his mom had sent him in his first year and plugged it in, listening to it whirl as a sputter of broken warmth filled the freezing room. 

The process of differentiating Ryousuke and Sakura was harder than he expected; they were just so similar. 

Whenever he closed his eyes and tried to picture his text buddy, the only thing he saw was rosy, full cheeks. A delicate, twisted smile. Soft, lush lips that plumped out when they sing-songed, “Kura~mochi~kun.” 

It made his stomach flip and he stopped trying to picture Sakura. 

Sonic
do you like WWE 

Sakura
take a wild guess

Sonic
yk a simple ‘no’ would’ve sufficed

Sakura
but where’s the fun in that? 

The arrival of Winter brought the Winter Training Camp of Hell and, this year, it was doubly as bad because the Coach asked the retired Third Years to help out which meant a week of not only being around Ryousuke— who he was so desperately trying to get over—but also being judged by the third year’s watchful eye, always ready to nit-pick in the cruelest terms. 

The first day hadn’t been as terrible as he dreaded; he’d steered clear of Ryousuke as best he could, lamely and unconvincingly dodging every invitation Haruichi extended for the three of them to practice together with a flimsy, insubstantial excuse. 

The second and third days were fine too but he couldn’t tell if it was because he was so sneaky as to avoid Ryousuke at every turn or, perhaps, it was Ryousuke that was stubbornly ignoring him, opting to help Sawamura and Jun with batting practice. 

It was the fourth night that was the worst, though.

Youichi’s heart dropped to his knees when Coach barked out the night time assignments; it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when he asked Ryousuke to supervise the fielding simulations.

Maybe it was because he was distracted, every glance at Ryousuke sending him spiraling into that awful memory of the last time they talked, but even Youichi wasn’t brash enough to disagree that his playing was not only bad but shit. Worse than when he’d first come to Seidou, a scrappy little first year that Ryousuke endlessly reprimanded. 

His movements were clunky and awkward, forced, and nothing like the natural, fluid way he usually darted around the diamond. And Ryousuke’s continued looks of disapproval only made it worse. 

Even despite the cold, below-freezing temperatures, Youichi’s body was burning. 

“You’re not meshing well tonight,” he told Youichi and Haruichi, plainly. Even though he was talking to both of them, the brunt of criticism was directed at Youichi and they all knew it. Ryousuke’s glare was sharp enough to kill a man. 

“Are you even trying to get to the ball?” 

Panting and breathless, Youichi wanted to scream in frustration but, try as he might, no sound came out. 

Sonic
why does god fucking hate me

Sakura
rough day?

Sonic
something like that
how was ur day

Sakura
uneventful 
waiting for graduation

Sonic
yeah? have u figured out where ur going to school yet?

Sakura
of course
keio university 

Youichi’s heart stilled in his chest when he read that. He’d heard from Haruichi, not too long ago, that Ryousuke had been accepted to that same college. 

Why can’t I ever escape Ryou-san? Why does everything I do lead back to him? 

Sonic
wow congrats sakura
thats one of the big 6

Sakura
thank you 

Sonic
u know
i always call u ‘sakura’ but u never call me ‘sonic’

Sakura
are u asking me why i dont refer to u as a blue hedgehog that wears red sneakers and can run at the speed of sound? 

Sonic
okay well it hurts when you put it like that

Sakura
dont be picky
you’re lucky ive stuck around this long
especially with all ur whining about ur senpai
not very charming, are we? 

Sonic
hey ik deep down u love me

Sakura
whatever helps you sleep at night 

Sonic
yeah yeah
anyway im gonna turn in
good night sakura

Sakura
okay

 

Youichi, satisfied and, now fully distracted from the harsh realities of the previous day, turned to go to sleep. Just as his eyelids began to grow heavy, his body starting to drift out of consciousness, he heard a ding again. 

Did he forget to tell me something? Youichi wondered as he reached for his discarded phone. 

Sakura
goodnight… 
sonic 

Youichi would never tell anyone, but he fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

Sakura asked Youichi out on a Tuesday, just a day and a half before New Year's. 

The Winter Training Camp of Hell had, thank god, come to a close and Youichi was back at home in the Chiba Prefecture. He still had somewhat of a bad reputation in his hometown, his painfully cringeworthy delinquent days following him around, so he spent the bulk of his time at home, hanging out with his mother and grandfather. 

He’d forgotten what it was like to sleep past 6 in the morning in his own room with his own space (did he miss that idiot Sawamura just a little bit? Maybe, though he’d sooner gouge his eyes out with a spoon then admit that to the first year pitcher). 

His sore, overworked muscles were slowly starting to be repaired and he was looking forward to Koshien Stadium, sitting at his old desk and detailing his excitement in one of his baseball journal entries. That was when his phone buzzed and he grinned in anticipation, setting down his pencil in exchanging for his cellphone. 

He knew exactly who it was, without even having to check. 

Sakura
its almost the new year, huh?

Sonic
god i guess so
it went by so fast

Sakura
really? 
not fast enough in my opinion 

Sonic
so whats up?

Sakura
i suppose i have a question for u

Sonic
go ahead

Sakura
are you still in love with your senpai? 

And suddenly, even in the comfort of his own room (most likely miles away from where Sakura, whoever he may be, was), Youichi felt incredibly exposed. Like being asked such a personal question, outright and point-blank, stripped him bare. All his emotions and intentions shown to the world without his consent. 

Was he still in love with Ryousuke? 

Probably. Probably, despite all his best efforts, because it wasn’t something that died so easily.

He winced when he typed out his reply. 

Sonic
i dont know
i dont want to be in love with someone who doesnt want me
but i dont know
i think i might still be 

Sakura
i see… 
in that case, i have a proposition for you

Youichi didn’t quite know what he was expecting Sakura to say but he knew what he wasn’t expecting, reading his next message with a pounding heart. 

He couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

He had to reread the message once. Twice. Three times, to make sure he wasn’t seeing things or imagining it. 

Sakura
do you want to go out on a date after new years? 
i’m looking for a distraction and you’re the most accessible one
it could help you get over your senpai for good

For almost two years, now, Youichi had chased after someone who was destined to never return his desires. Pined after someone who repeatedly shut him down everywhere he turned. 

And now, there was someone else— someone new— seeking his affections. He should be happy. He should be excited. He should be jumping for joy at the prospect of a love that was not only requited but inviting, offered to him on a silver platter where it was most convenient. 

And yet… 

There hadn’t even been a single shadow of a doubt in Youichi’s mind when he typed out 

Sonic
i’m sorry i can’t accept

The seconds crawled by excruciatingly slow as Youichi waited for a response. 

Sakura
i see
may i ask why?

Sonic
it might sound stupid and childish
you might hate me
but all this time ive been thinking that you remind me a lot of my senpai
you guys like a lot of the same things and have a similar sense of humor
and i thought that was okay up until now
but i cant accept a date with you because of that
it would feel wrong to you like maybe im not going out with you for the right reasons. you deserve better than that
and… 
it would feel wrong to him
because no matter how much he rejects me, i dont want to replace him in that way 

Sakura
okay. thank you for telling me.

Youichi waited for a second. Two seconds. Three seconds. A whole minute but it was eerily silent, the lack of a ding resounding in his ears. 

Then, one last message. 

Sakura
maybe we shouldn’t talk for a little while. 

Sonic
okay 
i’m sorry again

Hot, salty, regretful tears prickled at Youichi’s eyes as his fingers mashed against the phone screen. 

Remove “InstaMate”?
Removing this app will delete it from your Home Screen. Are you sure?

no              <yes>

App successfully removed.

What’s wrong with me? Youichi thought as he flopped onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. His chest couldn’t stop throbbing, twisting painfully and constricting tightly every time he tried to take a shaky inhale. 

He thought he’d grown accustomed to this sort of heart-break type pain but, no, every time it happened, it hurt more than the last. 

Why can’t I do any of this shit right? 

And, as much as it hurt, in the same breath, he was mad. 

He was mad himself— for being unable to differentiate Sakura and Ryousuke in his mind, even when he promised he would. For choosing Ryousuke over Sakura. For never being enough for Ryousuke while, simultaneously, letting Sakura not being enough for him. 

And he was mad at Sakura. For asking him out when he’d made it clear that that was something he was never going to do— not to his kouhai that he had liked and not to Youichi. 

And, even worse, he was mad at Ryousuke. 

Ryousuke, beautiful Ryousuke, who—unlike Youichi— knew exactly what he wanted; stepped forward into life with conviction and purpose. 

He was mad that Ryousuke allowed Youichi to fall in love with him, hidden beneath the rusty metal hood of the dugout while the rain swelled in their ears, roaring and clapping as the world ceased to spin. Because in that single, decisive moment, Ryousuke had damned him for all the years to come.  

“Fuck,” he whispered into his pillow, voice thick with frustrated, unshed sobs. 

Needless to say, he had a pretty miserable New Year's. 

Almost as soon as Youichi got home, in the blink of an eye, it was time to return back to Seidou. 

His mother saw him off with a sad smile. She’d always been supportive of his endeavors, no matter what. No matter how far away they took Youichi from her. 

“Have a safe trip,” she told him, placing a bento box in his rough, callous-ridden palms. 

“You didn’t have to make me lunch, Ma,” he told her with an appreciative grin. It was tied up in a green cloth, just like the ones she used to make him in elementary school. 

“Oh hush,” she shooed, waving her hand in dismissal. “I’m your mother, it’s my job.”

Then, after a beat of silence, she said, sagely, “I don’t know what’s going on but I know you’ll be okay.”

“Huh?”

“You think I couldn’t figure out something was up by the way you were moping around my house all weekend?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. Youichi flushed a deep red, twisting away in embarrassment. 

“Is it a girl?” she implored. Then, when Youichi didn’t reply, she offered up another reassuring smile, kind and warm. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” 

“Ma,” he asked, tentatively. Awkwardly. “How do you know that? That it’ll all work out?”

“You’re my son. You’re going to Koshien for god’s sake. I know you’ll find a way.” 

As nice and encouraging as his mother’s words were, they didn’t do much to quell the heartbreak Youichi was nursing.

The train ride back to Seidou was dull and Youichi watched the scenery whiz by with lifeless, glassed-over eyes.

He wondered what Sakura was doing, where he was.

He wondered if Ryousuke spent the New Year's with Haruichi. If he was back at school yet.

Stop that, he reprimanded himself, angrily, when he realized that his thoughts were drifting back to the two of them again. No matter how much he scolded himself, though, it always came back to Sakura.

No, a dull voice in the back of his head disagreed, even Sakura came back to something—Ryousuke. It always came back to Ryousuke. 

The notion left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Senpai!” cried out Sawamura, the second Youichi stepped through the threshold of Room 5. All of Sawamura’s stuff was sprawled out on the ground, clearly in the middle of unpacking his overnight bag, but the younger bounded over to throw his arms around Youichi’s neck in a hug. 

“Get off of me, idiot,” Youichi laughed but made no effort to pull away. Surprisingly, the contact was not as unwanted or vomit-inducing as he might’ve thought it would be. 

“I missed you,” Sawamura drawled into the crook of Youichi’s neck before breaking apart and grinning at the elder. “Did you have a good New Year's?”

Youichi opened his mouth to answer when a knock at the door interrupted him. Sawamura hummed, skipping over to open it, revealing a flustered Haruichi, standing in the doorway.

“Pardon the intrusion,” he excused himself, bowing his head respectfully (Youichi almost laughed a little— in all the ways he was similar to Ryousuke, there were just as many differences). “I just came to return the manga I borrowed from Eijun-kun.” 

Sawamura let out a boisterous bout of obnoxious laughter, taking the book from him. 

“How was your New Year's, Harucchi?” he asked with a cheerful beam. 

Haruichi returned the smile, greeting Youichi wordlessly, before saying, “Oh… it was okay. We went to the shrine but Aniki was in a bad mood for most of it, though.”

The mention of Ryousuke’s name perked Youichi’s ears up and he listened with intent, arms crossed tight to his chest as he leaned against the ladder to one of the beds.

“Really?” Onii-san was upset?” Sawamura asked. “Why?”

“I’m not… really sure. He didn’t tell me about it, you know how he is, but…but he kept glaring at his phone. Something about an app and someone he was talking to.”

Youichi could physically feel the way his heartbeat quickened, thrumming in his ribcage at an alarming pace, voice constricting tightly in his throat. 

No. No, it can't be.

“An app?” he couldn’t help but blurt out, choking on his words in the hurried rush to get them out, without thinking. “What app? Who was Ryou-san talking to?” 

“Uh,” Haruichi looked taken aback at the sudden interrogation, flustered and blushing a little at the sudden pair of intense eyes trained on him. “I-I’m not too sure. He mentioned something in passing about a friend he made online… Shadow or… Sonic, or something.”

Sonic.

He was Sonic. 

Fear coursed through Youichi’s body as the puzzle pieces clicked together in his head. It all made sense.

Sakura, his Sakura, was Ryousuke. 

Sakura, with whom he shared his most personal thoughts and desires, was Ryousuke. 

Sakura, who he had just turned down on a date offer in some stupid act of unwavering loyalty, was Ryousuke. 

“I—“ Youichi managed to stutter out before he turned heel and booked it out of the dorm, “have to go.” 

Breathless and frightened, Youichi ran all the way to Ryousuke’s dorm.

“Is Ryou-san here?” he asked, not caring that he looked crazed and out of his mind. 

Tanba was the one who opened the door, surprised at seeing his rowdy, once-kouhai in the genkan. 

“Uh… no. He went out to get a drink.”

Not even bothering to say ‘thank you,’ Youichi darted in the direction of the vending machines, not stopping until he saw that pink hair, shining like a beacon against the almost-evening sky. 

“Kuramochi?” Ryousuke asked as Youichi struggled to catch his breath, skidding to halt in front of the former second baseman. “What are you doing in the retired player dorms?”

“It’s me, Ryou-san,” he managed to gasp out in between desperate, sharp inhales. “I’m Sonic.”

Shock was not an emotion Kominato Ryousuke was well-acquainted with. Every action the third year took was deliberate, carefully crafted, and thought out. So Youichi almost faltered, almost took a step back, when he saw the expression drawn onto Ryousuke’s gorgeous features. 

He’d never seen the guarded third year look so genuinely appalled—taken off guard and out of his comfort zone, out a place where he controlled the narrative—instead of masking his true emotions with a bone-chillingly pleasant smile. 

“You’re Sonic?” Ryousuke slowly repeated, facial features scrunching up. 

“Yes,” Youichi affirmed. “I downloaded an app a couple of months ago because I wanted to get over my crush a-and I met someone called Sakura and we were texting and it… it’s you, isn’t it, Ryou-san? You’re Sakura, right?” 

“I am,” agreed Ryousuke, softly. 

Youichi watched, in real-time, as the realization that had just hit him, dawned on Ryousuke as well. 

Silence, heavy and tense, settled in the space between them. 

Every second was an eternity until Youichi spoke up once more, cutting the quiet like a searing hot knife. 

“So…so your friend that tripped on the floor and fell into the bathroom sink was…”

“Jun,” Ryousuke supplied simply, his voice unreadably thin as he spoke, averting all eye contact in favor of glaring at the damp ground beneath them. 

“And the little brother with the stuffed animal incident was…”

“Haruichi.”

“A-and the younger classmate that you almost… could’ve… fallen in love with was…”

A pause. 

“You.” 

The word was simple yet the weight it held was immense, immeasurable. It’s presence damn near suffocated Youichi, right then and there; the whole world collapsing around him. 

You.

It knocked all the wind out of Youichi’s lungs and, for a second, he thought he forgot how to breathe. 

Me, his thoughts told him as they raced through his head in a dizzying array, me. 

Me.

It was me that Ryou-san was in love with this whole time.

His mouth felt incredibly dry as he struggled to speak, every possible word dying on his tongue as he stood, paralyzed with shock and staring at Ryousuke. 

Then, a small realization dawned on him as he managed to whisper, voice cracking dangerously, “Then why…did you reject me like that after the Fall Tournament? Why did you ask out Sonic instead of me? Even after when you said that you’d rather be unsatisfied then let down?”

“Sonic was fake,” Ryousuke countered, voice uncharacteristically rising angrily. “He was fake, I had no emotional investment in him. Sonic wasn’t real.”

“But I was,” Youichi answered, eyes wide and wild, voice insistent. “I was real, Ryou-san. You didn’t have to go through Sonic, you could’ve come to me. I would’ve said yes, Ryou-san. I wouldn’t even have to have thought twice.” 

“Why can’t you understand, Youichi?” Ryousuke asked, head jerking upwards to stare at Youichi. “When you won in the Fall, you did it for me when I never asked you to. That’s not what I wanted and, even if you don’t realize it, that’s not what you wanted either. I keep telling you, Youichi, as myself and as… Sakura… Don’t allow yourself to be held back by something as frivolous as love.” 

Ryousuke turned to walk away but something deep within Youichi, something primal and protective that didn’t— couldn’t— allow things to end like this, to stay as they were, spurred Youichi forward. 

“But,” Youichi shouted, reaching out to grab Ryousuke’s wrist, yanking him back in a moment of sudden boldness. His shaking fingers curled around the soft skin and he grit his teeth, holding the third year’s arm tight, “you never asked me what I wanted, Ryou-san. That’s not what I want at all. Love is not frivolous.”

Ryousuke, for once, didn’t say anything back. Just watched Youichi as he spoke loudly, tears welling up in the shortstop’s eyes and stinging the corner, threatening to fall. 

“I don’t care if you break my heart, Ryou-san. Once, you said… Sakura said… that he didn’t want to fall in love because he wouldn’t have to break my heart but I don’t care about that. Break my heart, Ryou-san. Do it, I don’t care. Because not being held back isn’t what I want… it’s you, Ryou-san. You’re what I want!” 

Ryousuke didn’t answer. Didn’t reply, didn’t even move.

Fuck, thought Youichi, his grip on Ryousuke’s wrist loosening, did I fuck up? Did I ruin everything? Did I—

Lips crashed into Youich’s own and before he knew what was happening, Ryousuke thrust his body onto the shortstop, arms rising up to link around Youichi’s neck. 

Stumbling backward and eyes flying open in shock, Youichi fumbled to grab onto the cotton fabric of Ryousuke’s red sweatshirt before pulling him close and sinking into the kiss. 

Kissing Ryousuke was both exactly as he’d imagined it would be and nothing like it, at the same time. He tasted of strawberry juice and peppermint gum and soy-glazed dango. Untrained, uncoordinated hands reached up to trail the small of Ryousuke’s back, where his sweatshirt hiked up and exposed his milky, unblemished skin. 

“Ryou-san,” Youichi managed to say in between their connected lips, his words vibrating against Ryousuke’s mouth. “Ryou-san.” 

Youichi felt warmth tingling in the pits of his stomach, blossoming and spreading through the rest of his body. The world disappeared, melting away little by little around them until only him, Ryousuke, and the subtle, flickering glow of the vending machines remained. 

Yeah, he couldn’t help but think, vaguely, this was worth the wait. 

It was worth the wait, the pain, the anguish because here Youichi was, kissing the boy of his dreams, soft-lipped and open-mouthed and he was so, so in love. 

Once they broke apart, Youichi staggered forward to press their foreheads together, their heavy breathing coming out in little puffs of condensation against the prickly, cold, January-air. 

“There’s your answer,” Ryousuke murmured, soft and light, “Youichi.” 

Youichi had been called many things during the course of his time in Seidou. 

Kuramochi, Senpai, Cheetah-sama. 

Sonic. 

But, in all his years, he had never been happier to be Youichi. 

+ (extra)

Ryousuke fell in love with Youichi on a Tuesday, right after class during his Second Year. They’d cut through the baseball field when heavy rain started to pour down on them and ran towards the dugout for cover. 

He remembered the way the raindrops glistened in Youichi’s rusty-greenish-brown hair, damp and falling over his forehead. He remembered Youichi’s laugh, charming and hyena-like as he barked out giggles, peaking out from under the hood of the dugout to watch the clouds rumble. 

Ryousuke downloaded InstaMate on the first Tuesday after their loss to Inashiro; awful, embarrassing tears prickled at the corners of his creased eyes as he tried to drown out the realization that he would never get to go to Koshien in high school. 

That he would never get to play with Youichi, as an unstoppable duo, again. 

Ryousuke cupped his palm around Youichi’s, leaning his back against the vending machine that the younger had him boxed against, their fingers intertwining. 

Youichi was a beauty to behold, boyishly handsome, hair tousled messily with kiss-swollen lips that Ryousuke had sucked on just moments ago, finally claiming his stake after almost two years. 

“Really?” he teased, softly, reaching up to caress Youichi’s cheek, running the pad of his thumb across the shortstop’s cheekbone. “Sonic? How lame.”

“S-shut up! Yours was Sakura, Ryou-san! What did that even mean?” 

Ryousuke laughed, lightly, at Yoichi’s flustered, chagrined expression. Gorgeous and striking.

“Maybe I just like flowers… ever think of that, Youichi? Hmm?” 

“Well, I like video games! Let’s call it even, okay?”

“I can’t believe you said all that stuff about me to a stranger on the internet… aren’t you embarrassed?” 

“Of course I am! Ryou-san, please.” 

Yes, Ryousuke couldn’t help but think as he watched Youichi, red-faced, trying to explain how he was just a hopeless boy in love, this was worth the wait.