Work Text:
Game day is undoubtedly one of Nobara Kugisaki’s favorite things in life. Nothing else on earth can quite come close to this: the crisp autumn air ripe with the promise of victory, the roar of the crowd as the Yomiuri Giants walk out of the dugout, the crunch of the gravel underneath her cleats as she steps onto the diamond.
And Game Seven of the Japan Series, the final game of the season which will determine who takes home the Championship title this year? This is her favorite game day of them all.
Pale autumn sunlight caresses her face as Nobara moves into her warmup stretches. All around, her fellow teammates are preparing themselves for the intensity of the upcoming game. From where she stands in the small strip of grass in front of the dugout, she sees Inumaki jogging around the bases, while Yuuji and Megumi have moved on to casually tossing the ball to each other to warm up their shoulders.
The Giants’ Keystone Duo are as incongruous as ever. Yuuji’s voice carries across the diamond, as the shortstop loudly chatters about something or other. Across from him, second baseman Megumi only gazes at him with an exasperated expression, though fondness is written clearly in the quirk of his mouth and the way his eyes never leave his partner’s form.
Nobara rolls her eyes at the scene presented by her two best friends. She loves the two of them dearly, but sometimes they are just so disgustingly domestic.
It’s her first season as the starting pitcher for the Giants, though this is far from being her first season in the professional leagues. And despite being a newer member, over these past few months, she has come to regard this team as her family away from home.
Even still, there is one person among them that she cherishes above all.
“Nobara. Let’s go warm up in the bullpen.” Speaking of. Maki appears before her, a determined look glinting in her aventurine eyes.
Even as Nobara’s lips unconsciously curve into a smile at the sight of Maki, she feels her cheeks warm, and fervently hopes that the blush doesn’t show on her face.
Seriously. She’s a grown woman, not a schoolgirl with a crush. She should be capable of interacting with her crush without embarrassing herself.
“Let’s go, Maki-san!” she says, as she begins to walk towards the direction of the bullpen.
She has yet to take more than two steps before she feels Maki’s hand landing on her shoulder. Through the fabric of her uniform, the touch burns like a brand. Nobara’s ensuing shiver has nothing to do with the light breeze that has just picked up.
When she looks back, Maki is gazing at her with her head cocked to one side. “Hold on, I still need to put on my gear first. Give me a hand?”
“R-right! Of course!” Get it together, Nobara.
Ever since the day they first formed a battery, Maki has always asked Nobara for help with her catcher’s gear. The fact that she is perfectly capable of putting on her gear herself, and that she never seems to ask any of the other starting pitchers for assistance, notwithstanding.
Nobara doesn’t want to read too much into it. Her heart can wish all it wants, but the reasoning behind that action is most likely nothing more than “in the interest of strengthening their battery” or something along those lines. She would rather not think too deeply about the whole thing rather than be disappointed at the inevitable explanation.
The two of them lapse into a comfortable silence as Nobara crouches to secure the straps of the leg guards. This close, she can smell the faint notes of citrus and amber of Maki’s perfume, and beneath that, a scent which is unique to Maki herself, reminiscent of the crisp ozone that lingers in the air in the aftermath of a lightning strike.
With the buckles secured, she stands. Her eyes track the flex of the catcher’s arms within the confines of the compression shirt as she lifts her arms to slide the padded protector over her chest.
A strand of hair has come loose from Maki’s ponytail. Unconsciously, Nobara raises her hand and tucks the stray lock behind the catcher’s ear.
“Okay, all done.” She gives Maki a quick once-over to make sure all of the many straps and buckles on her gear is tightened properly.
“Thank you,” Maki says, and flashes her a small smile.
“Anytime, Maki-san!”
As they turn towards the bullpen, Maki’s grin sharpens into a smirk. “Are you ready, Ace?”
Nobara nudges Maki’s shoulder, an answering grin of her own spreading across her face. “Of course. The Hawks won’t know what hit them.”
The two cackle as they walk towards the bullpen, Nobara tucked firmly against Maki’s side. The catcher seems content with her proximity, and Nobara revels in being so close to the woman of her affections.
This is enough, she thinks to herself, and studiously ignores the traitorous voice in the back of her mind that whispers more.
***
The game has been a long drawn out battle, although Nobara expected nothing less from the championship finals. It’s the bottom of the ninth inning, with two outs and a runner on third. The score has not changed since the third inning, when Maki had hit a two run home run to bring the score to 3-2, with the Giants holding on to a slim lead.
The satisfying crack of the bat making contact with the ball echoes throughout the stadium. Standing in the batter’s box, Maki squints at the rapidly shrinking figure of the ball in the air, secure in the knowledge that she’s hit a home run, before she flips her bat and makes her way around the bases.
Even before Maki’s bat hits the ground, Nobara has already taken off from third base, headed for home at a leisurely pace. She feels a smirk threatening to break through her game face, and she lets the knife’s edge of it peek out from behind her mask for just a moment.
Maki is so reliable, she thinks, and her heart swells with pride.
True to the catcher’s other role as the cleanup batter, the ball sails high over the outstretched arms of the outfielders and disappears into the second tier of the stands. Nobara doesn’t need to look back to know that the lucky fans sitting in those seats are squabbling over who gets to keep the ball.
Neither team has been able to score since then, though not for lack of trying. Nobara is a consummate professional who has played in hundreds of official games, but even she is starting to feel the mounting pressure. If they are not able to prevent the Hawks from scoring this inning, the game could continue for up to three additional innings.
This needs to end here.
Walking up to bat is the Hawks cleanup batter, Todo. Nobara catches Maki’s eye across the distance that separates them, and the catcher nods minutely. She stands up, gesturing to the umpire for a time out, and jogs over to the mound.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Maki asks, when she is close enough to speak quietly, both of their lips hidden behind the worn leather of their gloves. Nobara nods, her citrine eyes steeled with resolve.
Despite his muscled demeanor, Todo is a very shrewd batter who more often than not will not fall for trick pitches. The battery will need to take him head on if they want to strike him out. Fortunately for the Giants, Nobara and Maki are a battery which relishes in the challenge.
The two of them make eye contact, matching smirks on their faces.
“I’ll be counting on you, partner,” Maki says.
The catcher reaches out and taps her mitt against Nobara’s before she leaves the mound. The small gesture grounds the pitcher immediately, and the mounting pressure in her chest eases up.
Nobara takes a deep breath. One more out. They can do this.
Maki settles into her position behind home plate, and the umpire raises his arm to resume play.
***
The second the umpire’s arm drops, Nobara is already winding up. Her right arm whips out, the cutter speeding towards the plate like a rocket. Nobara hasn’t thrown this pitch since the first few innings, mostly throwing her four-seam fastball, so she’s hoping that Todo is not expecting to see its return this late in the game.
The strategy pays off. Todo swings, but his timing is off, and the ball smacks firmly into Maki’s waiting glove.
“Strike!” That’s one.
Nobara winds up again. Her next pitch lands just a little outside the strike zone, and despite Maki’s clever framing, the umpire still calls it a ball.
Damn. She takes a deep breath to re-center herself. Across from her, Todo has moved to crowd the plate, in preparation for another outside pitch.
Maki shifts minutely towards the batter, and Nobara glances at her signal. Another fastball. This should show him.
She aims the pitch high and to the inside, as close to the batter’s body as she dares. The brushback pitch whizzes past Todo’s chest so closely that he is forced to bodily flinch out of the way or risk being hit by the ball.
Once he recovers, Nobara sees him glance at the umpire to see if he will issue a warning. At this distance, she can’t tell if he’s actually arguing with the umpire, but the slightly longer than normal pause is answer enough. When no reprimand comes, she hides a smirk in her glove. Two strikes.
Last one. Maki signals for a slider, and Nobara nods.
Time to end it here. The ball leaves her fingertips, hurtling unerringly towards the plate. As it passes through the strike zone, it breaks and drops sharply. Todo swings, and misses.
Between one breath and the next, the game is over.
Even before the umpire’s shout of “strike!” reaches her ears, Nobara is already grinning in incandescent joy. The Giants have managed to cling on to their narrow lead to secure the victory.
Maki’s face fills her field of vision, and she suddenly finds herself with an armful of catcher. The roar of the crowd, the cheers of her teammates fade away until it seems that she and Maki exist in their own bright, jubilant world. As they separate, their matching grins are mirrored ad infinitum on the faces of their teammates.
She’s finally achieved the very thing she’s worked towards her entire life—a Japan Series title—as a member of the team she has admired since childhood. And yet, as Nobara walks off the mound, arm in arm with her teammates, she still feels a piece missing, a small hollow in the deepest recesses of her heart.
***
Maki is a steady presence at her side as the team makes its way back to the dugout, after the whirlwind of interviews and photographs and congratulations. Underneath the shine of victory, which has settled around her shoulders like a cloak, her mind remains turbulent, crackling with the electricity of an oncoming summer storm.
She is hyper aware of the catcher’s proximity, but then again, she’s always been more attuned than most to the other half of the Giants’ Golden Battery.
When they are on the diamond, everything is so easy. It is just the two of them, Nobara and Maki, pitcher and catcher, number one and number two emblazoned on the backs of their ivory uniforms indicating to the world that they are a battery, that they are partners.
It is when they step off the diamond that things become a lot hazier. Nobara likes the easy camaraderie she and Maki share right now, likes the friendship that has developed along with their battery over the months, and she wouldn’t trade what they have now for the world.
Except.
Buried in her heart, in the deepest recesses where the light never touches, she allows her truest feelings to unfurl like the soft petals of a rose. Within these chambers, Nobara can be honest with herself in a way that she never is out loud. Here, she can admit that she wants more.
She is self aware enough to recognize that what she feels for the catcher is beyond mere admiration. And sure, she appreciates the friendship she has with Maki, but she is no longer content with mere friendship. She is undoubtedly, wholeheartedly, in love with Maki Zen’in.
There was a time, early in the season, when she had thought Maki might feel the same way about her. But the increasingly obvious hints she had dropped were never reciprocated. And there is no way that Maki, a catcher renowned for her perceptive game calling and strategic mind, would have missed such transparent adoration.
Despite herself, she feels the corners of her lips turn up in an unconscious grin as a warmth suffuses her chest. At times like these, Nobara thinks that her feelings are so obvious, as if the words I, NOBARA KUGISAKI, AM IN LOVE WITH MAKI ZEN’IN are splashed in glittering lights across the digital face of the jumbotron that overlooks the field.
And yet. Without the red strings of a baseball to tie them together, Nobara feels her usual confidence faltering. In every other aspect of her life, she enjoys a sort of effortless assurance, secure in her knowledge of herself and her abilities. But when it comes to matters of the heart, she feels her resolve crumble at the possibility of courting rejection.
She’s lucky to have gotten this much. Surely it would be too greedy of her to want more.
***
As they step off the diamond, Nobara glances back. The floodlights bathe the field in light as if it were daytime, but the twilight hour lends an intimate quality to the whole stadium, hazy like a well-worn memory.
“...Nobara. Nobara?” She is so lost in her thoughts that it takes a few seconds for her to realize that Maki has been calling out her name. The pitcher has remained standing by her side as the rest of the team steadily filed past them.
Her reply dies on her lips as she glances at Maki. The catcher’s normally refined expression looks unbearably soft in the evening glow, and her heart clenches with the intimacy of it. The two of them, standing in the neutral space between the diamond and the rest of the world that lies beyond.
There are only sixty feet and six inches separating the pitcher’s mound from the catcher’s box. On some days, that distance seems as insurmountable as the wide open expanse between sea and sky. But today, Nobara is determined to bridge it. Her tempestuous mind has finally settled, and she knows what she must do.
She’s waited long enough.
She turns to the catcher. “Maki, I-” is all she manages to get out, but Maki gets there first.
“Nobara,” she says, in exasperated fondness. “I’ve been waiting this entire season for you to ask me out. And you know I’m not a patient person.”
Nobara knows that her face is probably the same shade of red as a tomato right now. Her usual eloquence seems to have abandoned her entirely, as her brain unhelpfully plays ask me out ask me out ask me out on an infinite loop.
“Maki-san!” she whines, burying her flaming face in her hands. “You need to warn a girl before you say something like that to her.”
Maki smirks, unrepentant.
“So? What about it?” she says. “Are you gonna ask me or not?”
Nobara meets her gaze head on. The fire in her eyes is the same one she wears out on the diamond, right before she throws a game-winning strikeout.
“Maki-san. I like you a lot. Go out with me?”
Despite her earlier bravado, it’s Maki’s turn to blush, a light pink dusting the tops of her cheeks. But her voice is clear when she says, resoundingly, “yes.”
“Now, are you going to kiss me or not?”
As their lips meet, Nobara knows with certainty in her heart that nothing, not even winning the Japan Series just a half hour earlier, could ever compare to this.