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Miyuki Kazuya knew that something was wrong with the convenience store drink sample as soon as he took a swig.
The catcher was out late getting snacks with Sawamura Eijun, since the battery was busy reviewing data and videos of their previous game together. When they got too hungry to focus, Kazuya found himself eyeing an excited Sawamura from across the aisle of a store. The pitcher always seemed to find joy in the little things, and it was much, much cuter than Kazuya was willing to admit. Sawamura picked up pretty lotion bottles they both knew he wouldn’t buy, poked fluffy packs of bread, flipped through random travel magazines, and did everything but actually decide on a snack. Kazuya observed all of this with affectionate amusement, and somehow didn’t catch that the drink sample he picked up in the meantime was a truth potion.
Truth potions had become popular in recent months due to an internet trend. It likely originated from Tik Tok or some other platform that Kazuya would never understand, but soon enough, every popular chain was carrying some variation of one. The companies claimed that these random mixes of super fruits would make someone incapable of lying, and the ‘proof’ was in viral videos that overtook the internet in only a few days. All of the world’s most popular accounts were touting these fruit juice shots as the real deal, and Kazuya couldn’t even avoid any of it because of the huge ads at baseball stadiums. Sheer luck protected him from having to deal with his teammates buying them, because everyone was too busy and tired most days to venture out.
But Miyuki Kazuya, who admittedly had a baseball for a brain, was the first team member to try one.
He sputtered a little bit as he realized what he was drinking, and wiped the corner of his mouth as Sawamura bounced up to him with joy. The pitcher’s golden eyes sparkled with love and excitement, and Kazuya felt his throat hitch as Sawamura leaned in and presented his batterymate with a wrapped vanilla bean bread. His fluffy locks stuck out in all directions, his cheeks were rosy and warm, and he was wearing Kazuya’s hoodie because he was too wired about taking a walk to go back to his room. This series of observations made Kazuya a bit shy, and he coughed softly into his fist.
“Miyu Miyu, I found a bread you might like! I know you don’t like sweets, but they have so many, and this is the flavor you enjoy! Might I recommend it?” Sawamura chirped. “I… was looking for your snack first, since you seem kind of tired. Eheh…”
Kazuya flushed a deep red when he realized how thoughtful the seemingly random act was. He turned his face away, intent on saying something witty to hide his gratitude - but the potion’s effect was already taking hold, and even the strict and ambitious Kazuya was not immune to its power.
“You’re so damn cute... I appreciate you thinking about me, Sawamura.”
Both of them froze, and Kazuya’s hand went to his mouth. He felt his cheeks boil with heat, and, in an attempt to ease the awkward shock of his honesty, Kazuya took a deep breath and reached forward to ruffle Sawamura’s hair. But it wasn’t long before his mouth ran like a motor.
“Your hair’s really messy, you know that? I see you all the time anyway, so if you need me to comb it, just let me know. Ha! I do think you look nice in my hoodie, though, so, uh. Keep it.”
This double frontal attack on Sawamura’s sanity was clearly making his head spin, and the pitcher blushed so hard that he looked like he was going to pass out.
“Wh… what is happening?” Sawamura murmured with a dizzy whisper. “What did you do with Cap?!”
Kazuya somehow nuked his own ability to think, and didn’t respond until Sawamura put a hand on his arm and walked around to the sample table right behind them. Kazuya knew that Sawamura was smarter than he let on, and it took him mere seconds to figure out what happened as he whirled on his foot and poked Kazuya in the chest.
“You… no way! You drank a truth potion?!” Sawamura cried out, causing the listless store cashier to jump. “No wonder you’re so nice today!”
Kazuya’s mind whirred like a blender, and he cheekily chose to ignore the implication that he wasn’t very nice on the regular. “Uh… yes. I did. I wasn’t looking, and before I knew it, I drank the whole thing.”
Sawamura circled him like a hawk with piercing, observant eyes. “You’ll be like this for a whole 24 hours! What if you tell a nice old lady you don’t like her dress? What if you, I don’t know, confess your love to your classmate across the room, because you’ve been watching her in every year of high school from your place by the window…?!”
Kazuya cackled and started to clean his glasses. “You read way too much manga these days. I don’t have a crush on anyone in my class.”
Before Kazuya knew it, Sawamura was in his face again, and Kazuya got a glimpse of the detail in his blazing irises. The catcher flushed as Sawamura’s minty breath danced on his lips, and the two of them gazed at each other without a word in the corner. They both breathed at the same time, softly and in tune, until Sawamura broke the silence with his overwhelming curiosity.
“Well, do you have a crush on anyone?”
Kazuya’s brain, which was already operating against his will, started to accelerate at this fearlessly direct question. But before the truth potion could finish Kazuya off once and for all, Sawamura’s phone went off with a standard, bubbly iPhone ringtone. The pitcher pulled away, and Kazuya breathed out in relief as Sawamura pressed the answer button and put the caller on speakerphone.
“Cheetah! Greetings!” Sawamura said with a smile. “Want anything from the convenience store?”
Kuramochi Youichi’s voice buzzed into Kazuya’s ears. “Hyahaha! Thanks! Uh, can I get a big bag of chips? Any flavor’s fine. Is Miyuki there?”
Kazuya cringed at the thought of Kuramochi figuring out what happened, and sweat built up on his palms while he internally combusted. When his glasses fogged over, Sawamura finally caught on to his anxiety and patted his back with a supportive smile. Kazuya rolled his eyes before he put Sawamura’s hand back down with a ginger movement.
“Ok! Also, Cap’s not here! He, um, he’s watching the game videos! He’s reviewing them. That’s what he told me!” Sawamura stuttered.
Kazuya sighed and leaned over the phone. “Sawamura, it’s obvious you’re lying. Hi, Kuramochi.”
The shortstop on the other line chortled as he sat back in his seat. “You two coming back soon? We just started a new week for the video game tournament, and what’s a round without our captain and resident loudmouth pitcher?”
Instead of responding affirmatively as usual, however, Kazuya’s face went white. The world spun when he imagined his truth potion mouth going out of control. Kazuya was, in fact, a blunt person. But based on the embarrassing compliments he just delivered to Sawamura in spades, he was bound to say something irredeemably crazy.
Kazuya cleared his throat in an attempt to sound as off as possible. “Ahem… actually, I’m not going, my bad. I’ll join another time. I need to review data again when we’re back, anyway.”
Sawamura nodded for a while before he realized that Kuramochi couldn’t see him. This, of course, directly resulted in Kazuya spitting out another involuntary sentence.
“Hey, idiot. Even though I could watch you all day, Kuramochi can’t see you. Say something!”
Kazuya swore he felt the temperature drop as Kuramochi’s end of the line went totally silent. A full minute or so passed before anyone reacted, and Sawamura turned so red that he punted the phone into Kazuya’s hand and hurried out the door, his head hung low with shyness. Kazuya refused to make eye contact, but gazed outside with mild concern. He spotted Sawamura with his face in his hands as he paced back and forth. Kazuya said nothing when he glanced back at the phone screen, with the corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly.
Kuramochi was the first to speak, and his voice warbled when he tried to hold back another cackle. “What was that?!”
Kazuya just answered, since he knew that he was already doomed. “I drank a truth potion because I wasn’t looking at the store sample. Do me a favor and don’t notify anyone.”
“Uh huuuuuuh… Miyuki, I hate to tell you this,” Kuramochi began. “But you’ll probably make it obvious, even if I agree to shut up.”
Kazuya imagined the owlish expressions of the first string as they all watched him spit out endless, especially unfiltered truths at practice. His skin was already burning with embarrassment, and nothing was even happening yet. It was one thing to do damage control with Sawamura and Kuramochi, and another to explain away his strange admissions to a field of fellow teenagers - or worse, Coach Kataoka and Coach Ochiai, who were both very unlikely to be sympathetic.
“Either way, I’m not sitting with everyone packed into one room for the smash tournament. I can at least come up with a plan if I’m at my place.” Kazuya said firmly.
Kuramochi soon relented with a sigh. “Fine, whatever.
But you’re center stage tomorrow. I hope you’re ready.”
Kazuya was not prepared for center stage.
When he went to breakfast that morning, he tried his best to avoid ending up in any sort of conversation. This was not terribly hard to do, because Sawamura and Kuramochi were both aware of his predicament. Sawamura was busy chatting with Haruichi and Furuya as he grabbed his food, and Kuramochi was sitting in a huge crowd of babbling upperclassmen. Even though Kazuya would have joined the latter group on most days, he found himself seated alone at the end of one of the emptier tables.
Kazuya was used to eating by himself, so he didn’t feel particularly bothered. He picked up his chopsticks and started to settle into his seat - that is, until Toujou and Kanemaru appeared out of thin air.
“Good morning, Captain Miyuki. May we join you?” Kanemaru greeted gruffly as he hovered by the table.
Toujou smiled and joined them after he took a sip of his water. “Hello, Captain. Do you... mind if we…? We have some questions about practice, and we wanted to ask…”
Even though Kazuya nodded in the affirmative, the poor catcher didn’t register a single thing that Toujou said. Kazuya’s vision went funny for a moment, and he rubbed his eyes in slight desperation as he tried to regain his focus. After a minute or two, the two younger players realized that Kazuya was not actually absorbing their conversation, and Toujou regarded him with marked concern.
“Captain Miyuki… are you alright? Sorry, maybe we should ask you later, we apologize for the trouble…” Toujou started, rising from his seat.
But Kazuya, doomed to spit out anything remotely true, raised a hand to stop him. “I don’t mind. I’m feeling a bit weird today, but… you two are good players, and really reliable. I’m honestly proud of your progress, and I appreciate you keeping Sawamura in line, too. What I mean is that I don’t mind if you have a question for me right now. At least you take baseball seriously.”
Toujou and Kanemaru looked like mannequins in front of him, their hands unmoving. It was also just Kazuya’s luck that the large group of upperclassmen floated his way at that moment, despite Kuramochi’s attempts to draw them back to the opposite side of the room. The shortstop sent a silent apology from nearby when Maezono slammed his hands on the table in earnest, joined by other members of their year.
“No way! Did you just give them compliments?” Maezono cried out in amazement. “Is he going to do that all day?”
“What about me, Miyuki?!” One of the others cried out, curious and excited.
The others buzzed with energetic conversation, and Sawamura soon swooped in in an attempt to protect his batterymate.
Kazuya just gulped with nervousness. No, no… anyone but Sawamura…!
“Everyone, please carefully back away! Miyu Miyu is busy consuming the nutrients he needs to be a strong member of our team, and a leader, at that! Kindly mind yourselves!” Sawamura barked.
One of the upperclassmen huffed and rolled their eyes. “Do you really have the right to tell us what to do right now? What does the captain have to say about you?”
“Wait,” Someone else commented. “He’s the buntmaster! At least he has that going for him, but what else?”
Sawamura, who was normally boisterous and thick skinned, deflated with sorrow at their words. His face was so crestfallen that Kazuya felt his chest ache a little. The pitcher just lowered his raised arms in response and rubbed his wrist idly.
Kazuya knew his mouth was going to move before he was, and he felt like he was outside himself when he spoke again.
“Sawamura’s improvement is insane. He’s working through a pitching system with me right now, and Chris even comes by and helps with that sometimes. I can’t actually believe how fast he’s able to absorb the changes that we make. I think since we see his potential - the team’s potential - we’re harsh on him. But don’t imply that he’s got nothing. I speak for myself when I say that I don’t ever waste my time.” Kazuya stated coolly.
Although their conversation had been contained until that point, the compliments he showered upon Sawamura made the entire cafeteria go quiet. It was so quiet that Kawakami dropping his cup made Kuramochi jump, and nobody was able to form words in their mouths from the shock. When Kazuya finally glanced over at Sawamura, the pitcher had actual tears in his eyes, and his lip quivered uncontrollably.
For once, Sawamura Eijun didn’t say a word.
Kazuya stood without addressing anyone in the room, and hurried away before the silence in the room could crack. He could feel his heart screaming in his chest with a level of anxiety that he had never felt before. As he rushed around corner after corner, desperate to get away from the heaviness in that room, he heard the thunderous footsteps of his teammates trying to follow him with unsatiated curiosity. But Kazuya did his best to keep moving until he heard their footsteps fade away, and he gripped at the cotton of his t-shirt when he reached an empty part of the riverside.
At least during class… there wouldn’t be any more real slip ups.
But practice was another problem entirely, and Kazuya just knew that he was screwed.
Kawakami Norifumi was speechless while the baseball he was practicing with rolled across the dirt. Sawamura and Furuya stopped what they were doing when they heard the ball drop, and everyone nearby was enthralled by the red faced Kazuya, who refused to look anyone in the eye.
“I’m the… what?” Kawakami whispered. He shuffled his cleats on the ground and coughed.
“Captain Miyuki told you, ‘you’re the ace of our generation.’” Furuya said calmly.
“In response to that amazing pitch, mind you! I swear people could hear that one two hundred kilometers away!” Sawamura added with a bright smile.
Kawakami stuttered and tripped over his own foot in response, and everyone almost dashed over to help. But the soft hearted pitcher caught himself just in time and laughed with warmth. “Um… goodness, thank you… I… I don’t know what to say…”
Please, no one say anything else, Kazuya begged inside his mind. I was so close to getting away without slipping the entire afternoon!
“I mean, if this is the kind of stuff you’re truly thinking… well… actually, I want to know what you’re really thinking about! What you really feel!” Sawamura bubbled, interrupting Kazuya’s internal monologue. “You should be more honest, Cap!”
Kazuya suddenly recalled all the flirtatious and wildly complimentary quips that exited his mouth, and his fluffy hair seemed to rise in a fit of flustered nerves. He was irritated that all of his emotions were out in the open, even if he meant every damn nice thing that he said. He valued the pitchers, and it was nice that they were all receiving positive affirmation that he usually didn’t say directly. But Kazuya couldn’t take much more of the uncontrolled honesty he was spurting.
“I’m honest, Sawamura!” Kazuya responded, bringing himself back to reality. “You’ve said I’m too honest, actually! Since we sit together in my room every day—”
Both Kazuya and Sawamura balked at this public admission of how much time they spent together in private. Even though no one was surprised, there was something intimate about saying it out loud in front of many of their teammates, and neither party was willing to gaze at the other for more than a second without a blush creeping onto their faces.
It was then that Kuramochi hoisted his Loyal Friend Banner with a silent huff.
The shortstop put his foot in the entrance of the bullpen, and crossed his arms.
“Alriiiiight, that’s enough! We’re about to break for dinner anyway! Miyuki, can we talk? Captain to Vice Captain?”
Kazuya began to take off his catcher gear as he approached, the relief shining on his face. “Yeah. Can do.”
Kuramochi handed Kazuya a drink under the bend of a lush green tree. The two of them sat in the grass, side by side in the sunset, until Kuramochi eventually cleared his throat and opened his can with a light fizz.
“...You okay, Miyuki?” Kuramochi inquired, concern evident on his face.
Kazuya took a while to respond, because his face was buried in his knees as he tried to cool down from the earlier fiasco. It was rare for Kazuya to show this kind of vulnerability, and they both knew it. But Kazuya was far too exhausted to fight the urge to look worn down anymore. Being compelled to say every single part of every single thought for an entire day was enough to wear down anyone, even someone who spent a lifetime crafting their shield.
The catcher eventually sighed. “Uh… I could be better. Thanks though.”
“Well, at least I know that’s the truth.” Kuramochi chuckled as he took a sip of his juice. “Just stay here until you’re ready to be around the others again. We can even wait until dinner is almost over, since tomorrow is a rest day and I don’t think our next meeting will be that long. What I’m saying is… take it easy.”
Kazuya felt the sincere warmth of Kuramochi’s words wrap around him like a comforting blanket. Kazuya released a breath that he was holding for the past minute, and tried to hold back the strangely primal urge to either cry or fall asleep, even though the feeling was foreign to him. But then again, everything that day had been rather foreign, and it was jarring and unusual to have no control over himself. It was even more unusual to have bonding time with Kuramochi, and to be away from the fields and the dorm complex - to be able to view everything from a distance.
When Kazuya glanced over and saw the shortstop smiling as he watched the sun dip away, he smiled despite himself. “Kuramochi… thanks for being my friend. Your support means a lot to me, and I guess I don’t say that enough.”
Kuramochi, who was in the middle of relaxing, stopped mid-sip and gazed at Kazuya in shock. He was once again left speechless by Kazuya’s honest words, and even though he whisked his friend away to protect him from being overwhelmed, Kazuya saw happiness flit across his teammate’s face when he heard Kazuya’s feelings.
“Wow… thanks.” Kuramochi managed, awkward and sincere.
It made Kazuya’s heart shake a little when he saw his companion’s lopsided grin, and the catcher had a revelation about the power of sincerity in that moment. Though he didn’t know if he had it in him to always be this raw, a small part of Kazuya was glad that he got to see his friends look so moved. It scratched at that old part of Kazuya’s soul that was lonely, somewhere deep inside, from when he was little and eating dinner every day by himself. What he saw in everyone’s eyes was the opposite of that feeling.
It was fullness.
It was joy.
When Kazuya sat with Sawamura after a long break under the tree outside, he realized that he skipped dinner completely. He tried to ignore his stomach’s rumble as he counted down the last hour of truth potion torture time. But his stomach’s monstrous demands were beyond him, and Sawamura whipped around from his position on the floor. The pitcher pulled away from Kazuya’s pillow and hurried over with alarm.
“Miyu Miyu,” Sawamura said sternly. “Are you hungry? I don’t think I saw you at dinner!”
Kazuya didn’t have much of a choice. He was so tired that he didn’t rise to go eat in time. Then, in the time it took Kazuya to bathe, Kuramochi had gone off with Maezono to the convenience store, and Kazuya missed all of the calls and texts asking him what he wanted. The catcher eventually decided that it was too much trouble, and just went back to his room to talk to Sawamura and get to sleep. Kazuya knew it was a bad idea to be an athlete in this environment and eat nothing, but he was practically in pain from his sleepiness. He did his best to keep a calm expression, and Sawamura hovered close enough to radiate body heat while he fretted.
“No, no, this won’t do!” Sawamura practically yelled. “I have something, by the way! It’s a gift since… since you went through a lot today, I bet.”
The pitcher shuffled to his things in the corner, and pulled out a grocery bag full of vanilla bean bread from the convenience store. Kazuya’s eyes widened when Sawamura deposited the present in his lap, and when he looked up to gaze at Sawamura, his amber eyes were overflowing with tenderness.
“Thanks.” Kazuya murmured.
Sawamura rubbed the nape of his neck, looking bashful. “Aww, it’s nothing! I mean, I care about you, you know! Even though you’re a bastard. Maybe... especially because you are.”
Kazuya and Sawamura stared at each other for so long that time seemed to ebb and flow around them. Before Kazuya knew it, his lips were on Sawamura’s, and the pitcher was comfortably sitting in his lap. Their first kiss was both sudden and slow, and Kazuya felt his whole body fill with an electric, unexpected thrill. Sawamura didn’t fight back when Kazuya subconsciously pulled him closer, and didn’t fight back when their mouths met in the middle. Sawamura’s lips were soft and wet, and his little noises of satisfaction made Kazuya almost giggle uncharacteristically into their kiss. They didn’t part for as long as they could, and Kazuya felt Sawamura’s hands lace onto his back.
Even though neither of them said a word about being in love, and even though neither of them thought about the consequences, they kissed over and over again, unable to help themselves once they knew how it felt. The two of them always did have an unexplained tension between them, and a bond that only ever grew closer. Kazuya relaxed against Sawamura, and decided as always to figure it out as he went.
After all, baseball and Sawamura frequently went together.
When they finally stopped, the two of them panted as they stayed close enough to feel each others’ breath.
“Wait… was this because of the truth potion?” Sawamura asked tentatively, his cheeks still russet.
Kazuya took a second to think before he checked the clock, and noticed that it was well past ten. He smiled and kissed Sawamura’s forehead with a soft, chaste peck.
“It wasn’t. It’s been half an hour since it wore off.
Anyway, do you want to split a bread bun~?”