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Make peace with your broken pieces.
- Roger Lee -
Kaoru groaned when he hit the hard surface of his bed frame as he struggled to get out of bed. He rubbed his forehead gently, slowly blinking his eyes as he adjusted to the light. Yawning, he forced himself to stand up and grabbed his phone before heading out.
“Today’s the last day,” he muttered.
Breakfast was quieter than usual, and to Kaoru’s annoyance, his friend Masashi was missing. He had to endure scoffing down his cold soup and three bowls of rice in silence. The thought of being alone aggravated him further.
Kaoru couldn’t blame Masashi though.
The scouts had waited so long for his decision, but Kaoru knew Masashi’s target from the first time he stepped at Seidou was the pro leagues. Just like their former captain, Miyuki Kazuya and their former pitcher, Furuya Satoru – the thought of those two made him want to vomit his food.
It was no secret to most of the third years about Kaoru’s distaste towards hearing the two names. Miyuki Kazuya had always expressed his own bias towards Okumura Koushuu. Not that Kaoru had complained. He was well-aware of who was the better catcher. The thought of being dismissed by his own captain left a bitter taste on his mouth. Furuya Satoru added more fuel to the fire. Between the two pitchers during his first year, he had openly expressed his admiration towards the monster pitcher. He tried his best to catch up, but he was left biting the dust on his shoelaces.
I was not good enough.
“Yui, still not finished eating?” asked Hirofumi.
Kaoru shrugged. “Not in the mood to eat quickly. Where’s Masashi?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he overslept?”
Kaoru snorted. “I find that hard to believe. He’s always batting to his heart’s content in the morning.”
“I wonder if he’s joining the pros.” Takuma gulps his soup down. “I mean, he has always said he’ll join the pros during our first year.”
“He will join the pros. I’ll pull my hair out before he doesn’t.”
Takuma chuckled. “And how about you, Yui? Joining the pros?”
Kaoru stayed silent for a few moments. His obvious answer was to join the pros, but ever since his second year ended, his mind began to fill with anxious thoughts about the future. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to be a pro. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to see them. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face himself.
“I won’t be joining the pros,” said Koushuu, his aura fired up as usual. “I’d already decided to become a coach after college. I talked to Sawamura-senpai last night and he told me that I don’t have to force myself to be a pro if I don’t want to.”
Kaoru looked at Koushuu curiously. “Why don’t you want to be a pro?”
“I want to be a middle school coach and become a coach my old coach failed to do.”
“Admirable,” commented Kaoru, and to his surprise, he meant it. It was a shock that his rival wasn’t targeting the top, but he knew the sentiments of being treated unfairly – being betrayed by someone you trusted.
“We’ll be the best battery together. I promise.”
“Even if I’m not the best catcher?”
“I owe you a lot, Kaoru. You have my word.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Satoru-san.”
Kaoru stared at the remaining soup on his bowl, wondering if it was worth it to finish the whole thing. Sighing, he settled the bowl down and excused himself from the cafeteria. Pocketing his hands on his jacket, Kaoru traced the path towards the fields, the sun scorching hot above him.
The word battery had meant a lot to Kaoru, had meant more than the thousand times he swung his bat, more than the thousand times he followed someone’s back in hopes of becoming more than just a relief catcher. In hopes of becoming more than a second choice to the role he had desired the most.
A hollow laugh escaped Kaoru’s mouth as he passed the bullpen. It was his last year and there was no Summer Koshien for them. They lost the finals. He wondered if in another universe, in another world, there was room for a Yui Kaoru in Furuya Satoru’s life. He wondered if the words main catcher and Yui Kaoru fit the same sentence. He wondered if maybe, just maybe, in another place, Yui Kaoru was good enough.
A tear fell on his cheeks.
It was raining again.
***
“You’re not going pro?” asked Masashi. “Why?”
Kaoru chuckled wryly. “Why, you ask. I’m not ready.”
Masashi scrunched his eyebrows. “But you’re good at batting and catching.”
“Apparently, I’m not.” Kaoru flipped the pages of his notebook. “I’ve decided to shift directions. I’m going to Waseda.”
Masashi frowned. “Is this because of him?”
Kaoru grabbed his phone and took a picture of the current page in front of him. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“Still aren’t over it?”
“I’m trying to. That’s why I’m not going pro.”
Baseball. Furuya Satoru. Somewhere down the road, Kaoru had associated those two, as strings stuck together into a knot he couldn’t untie. Deep down, he knew he had to untie it. He didn’t want to suffer playing the sport he loved. He didn’t want to chase a shadow already too far away to be reached. Furuya Satoru had chosen Miyuki Kazuya. Not him. Never him.
It was all a lie
Liar
Just forget it, Kaoru
“Oi, you’re losing focus.”
Kaoru blinked his eyes. “Sorry, Masashi. What were you saying?”
“Why did you choose Waseda?”
Kaoru grinned. “It was the nearest to the apartment I rented.”
“Must be lucky to be rich. I couldn’t even afford an apartment. Now, I’m forced to room with someone I don’t know.”
Kaoru traced the written characters on his notebook, rereading the paragraphs for the second time. His focus dwindled when the pitter-patter of the rain drowned out the silence. Sighing in defeat, he stretched his arms out and stood up. He made his way towards the window, staring at the falling water on the windowsill.
He liked to think that the rain was crying for him.
Visions of the mound brought a pang to his chest. He placed his hand on the window glass, glancing at his reflection. His eyes looked blank. The image scared him. A loud smack of the ball hitting the mitt rang on his ears, a repeating cycle of misery, a moment of joy that filled him with false hope, a memory he had somehow cursed in his mind.
The pain and joy made him laugh.
Laughing was supposed to be a remedy.
The pain didn’t hurt less.
***
Kaoru couldn’t help but think the world works in mysterious ways.
Unlike Koushuu and Hirofumi, Kaoru had never bothered to ask where his senpai went to college. To his amusement, an enigma in the form of Sawamura Eijun was grinning at him enthusiastically, beckoning him to follow towards the bullpen. His first day in Waseda couldn’t have been better.
“I never thought you’d follow me here, Yui-shounen!” exclaimed Eijun, his golden orbs shining. “I’m glad to see you. I thought I’d never meet another kouhai here again.”
Kaoru snorted. “Impossible. In fact, I was more surprised that Koushuu didn’t come here.”
Eijun pouted. “Okami Kozo wanted to go to a college near his home. That brat didn’t want to follow his teacher. What a shame.”
“Maybe he got tired of the said teacher.”
“Mean, Yui-shounen. Since when were you snarky?”
Since the day your rival abandoned me, thought Kaoru but he kept his mouth shut.
The figure of Sawamura Eijun brought Kaoru a big ounce of comfort as he trudged the fields of Waseda. He noticed that the pitcher had grown a few more inches, leaving a sour taste in his tongue as he looked down on his small stature. He internally cursed his body, silently wishing to at least grow a few more inches before his first year ends.
“This is our beloved bullpen. Hahaha! I made sure to leave a lot of space for us to practice.” Eijun placed a hand on his hips. “I hope you’re ready for me, Yui-shounen!”
Kaoru quickly put on the catcher’s gear, with Eijun’s assistance, and grabbed his mitt. He hoisted himself inside the bullpen, inhaling the scents of grass and dirt and everything summer. Feeling a calmness on his chest, he squatted down and faced Eijun with a soft smile.
“I’m ready if you’re ready, senpai.”
Eijun cackled. “I hope you remembered the signs.”
Eijun lifted his right leg up and threw. Kaoru took a few seconds to admire the unique form and the way his eyes glinted before moving the mitt on the ball’s direction. He thanked the heavens that he remembered how sharp Eijun’s cutter was. He had spent so many weeks mastering how to catch the pitch, hearing the shouts of encouragement the pitcher had thrown at him despite his disappointment at every failed catch.
It was Eijun who taught him patience and Kaoru was grateful.
A patch of guilt filled his chest as he continued to catch the pitches thrown at him. He had never attempted to become closer to the pitcher in front of him, his sight always obscured by his rival – perhaps, he wouldn’t have regretted his life choices if he took the time to get close to Eijun instead. Though he had always followed Eijun to practice catching his pitches, he never knew the pitcher on a personal level. Trusting that Eijun was an open book at most, Kaoru took for granted the opportunity to at least become his friend.
“Nice ball,” he yelled as he threw the ball back. “Your pitches are sharper and faster now.”
Eijun smiled so widely that Kaoru couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ha, so you did notice! Are you shocked? Surprised? I can see your eyes of admiration staring at me, Yui-shounen! Are you impressed yet?”
“Praise addict,” muttered Kaoru as he grinned and humored the pitcher with more compliments.
“We’ll be the best battery together here at Waseda, Yui-shounen!” Eijun pumped his fist in the air. “I won’t let you down, partner. I promise!”
Kaoru’s mood dropped. “Promise, huh? The words sound familiar.”
Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Sawamura Eijun.
***
Their first time as a battery was tested during a practice game.
Kaoru had spent most of his time last night memorizing data of their opponents, taking note of every batter’s quirk, and thinking of ways to use Eijun’s arsenal to their advantage. He briefly wondered if he could unlock the pitcher’s potential like their former captain who –
He shook his head. Those were dangerous thoughts.
“I’ll be pitching to you with my full trust.” Eijun placed his fist on Kaoru’s chest. “If I shake your call, it’s not because I don’t trust you, okay? I don’t think you have to worry about that though. I know you can do this.”
Kaoru wanted to yell at Eijun for a moment, to tell him that faith and trust are dangerous words, to apologize in advance for his lack of skill. Yet, those golden orbs looked at him with so much sincerity that his voice stayed locked down on his throat, and all he could do was nod.
He had to admit – he underestimated the weight of Eijun’s words.
On their first inning together, Eijun stared at him with so much ferocity and enthusiasm – an ironic mix of contradictions that clashed with the anxiety building up in his body – that his composure froze. This was the pitcher who fought tooth and nail besides a prodigy, a prodigy who succeeded, and snatched the ace number from him. This was the pitcher who failed to be the ace on his last year in Seidou yet never gave up reaching the top.
Kaoru could really use learning that persistence from him.
It was no surprise that Eijun struck out the three batters quickly, without a pitch wasted, cleanly and perfectly hitting Kaoru’s mitt. This control, this fire, this ball of energy hurling towards him – he wanted to catch it.
For a second, a flicker of black hair and sleepy eyes stared at him. Kaoru shook his head. This was not the time for him to remember unnecessary people. Calming himself down, he stood up from the catcher’s box and went back to the dugout, giving lots of praises to Eijun who looked elated.
They won the practice game.
Yui Kaoru became part of the first string officially. Sawamura Eijun greeted him with open arms, squeezing the life out of him as he attempted to match the enthusiasm of the hug. It wasn’t a big thing. He probably still wasn’t good enough. Yet, this small ounce of joy was a good sign. There’s still hope for him in the field.
“I’m glad we won that game, Yui-shounen! We’ll defeat so many more. HAHAHAHA, this Sawamura Eijun will be the ace.”
Their teammates snickered. “Oi, Bakamura, don’t get a big head. It’ll take time before you become the ace.”
Eijun stuck his tongue out. “I will be! Just you watch!”
Kaoru watched in amusement as his teammates teased each other, sipping slowly at his juice. Their shortstop offered him some alcohol, but Kaoru valued his health too much to even give in to the temptation.
“Ah!” exclaimed Eijun as he turned his attention back to Kaoru. “Yui-shounen, why didn’t you go pro?”
Kaoru froze. “Come again?”
“Why didn’t you go pro?”
Kaoru frowned. “Why? Don’t you want me to be here?”
Eijun chuckled nervously. “Hahaha! Of course I’m not saying that, Yui-shounen. I’m just curious since I thought you’d be on the same team as Furuya.”
Kaoru coughed a few times. “Want to escape this party, senpai?”
Eijun hesitated for a few seconds before sighing. “Fine.”
The pair stood up and exited the building. Kaoru walked his way to the fields, staring at the night sky. The stars weren’t as many as the stars he saw before when he visited their grandfather. Kaoru still marveled at their shine. Pocketing his phone, he grabbed Eijun’s wrist and pointed at the nearest bleacher.
“Why are we here, Yui-shounen?”
Kaoru sighed. “Only a few people in Seidou knew about what happened during my second year – my friends in the team. You’re asking why I did not go to pro, right? I couldn’t.”
Eijun bit his lower lip. “Why not? You’re talented enough.”
“You’re wrong.” Kaoru struggled to keep his voice stable. “I was not good enough. Or at least to the person I wanted to be good enough for.”
“Huh?”
Kaoru laughed dryly. “I thought I would spend my baseball career playing with Furuya-san. I believed it deep down. Or maybe I assumed that way, I don’t know. He said some words and I interpreted them differently.”
“Wait. Is this about Furuya and Miyuki being on the same team? You know the draft works that way, don’t you? Miyuki was picked because of the lottery and Furuya was the second choice of the team.”
Kaoru gulped. “I know. I know that and I respect that. It wasn’t the only reason.” He laughed dryly, clenching his fists. “I was – I tried to – Shit, I was rejected, you know.”
Eijun gaped. “You mean – “
“Romantically, yes. I’m bisexual.”
“And you still haven’t moved on?”
“I moved on from the romantic feelings. I didn’t move on from the way he acted after.” Kaoru stared at the ground. “I thought, at least, that we would stay friends. Or that he would give me space but still talk to me. That day, he not only broke my heart – he broke my trust. I don’t care if he rejected me. It just hurt that he ignored my existence after that.”
Kaoru cleared his throat and held back the tears threatening to fall. “I mean, I had always admired him since my first year, and I trained hard to catch up to him. I didn’t mean to make my baseball focused on him. That sense of desperation made me powerless, and the last straw was him ignoring me. I just snapped.”
Eijun placed a hand on Kaoru’s shoulder. “I know how you feel.”
“You don’t.”
“I do. More than you know.”
Kaoru scowled. “How?”
Eijun laughed. “Do you think you’re the only one who felt that desperation to catch up to someone? With Furuya at my heels, how could I even catch up to a catcher named Miyuki Kazuya?”
Kaoru stared at Eijun with a new sense of understanding. It made sense. He never really understood before why Eijun had a strange fixation on their former captain. He thought it was because Miyuki Kazuya was a genius catcher in his generation, dismissing it as a blind admiration towards a prodigy.
He was wrong.
“I mean, it wasn’t like I had romantic feelings for him or anything. I had a crush, but I didn’t care if he felt the same way.” Eijun scratched his head. “It was more of a desperation to show the person who showed me what baseball is to me that I am worthy of his acknowledgement.”
Kaoru nodded. “I see.”
“It was unhealthy. I was holding him to expectations that he did not deserve. I was the one who took a different path. We’re still talking sometimes, but the closeness we had before couldn’t be taken back. I changed. He changed. The world moved forward.”
A strange feeling filled Kaoru’s stomach. “I actually thought Miyuki-senpai liked you a lot.”
Eijun shrugged. “He chose Furuya.”
“Didn’t you just say – “
“No, what I mean is he chose Furuya to be his closer friend. We both were close with him, but he opened up to Furuya more. Remember the game before Inashiro at my second year? I heard him talking to Furuya about his future plans. When I asked him about it, he told me to focus on the game and it didn’t matter. After the game, we were still close as a battery, but he hung out with Furuya more outside baseball.”
“That sucks.”
“The past is what it is. It’s better to focus on the now.”
Kaoru glanced at Eijun’s silhouette, the traces of a soft smile on the side of the face, a shine on those orbs that stared at him at the mound. He recalled the way Eijun helped him everyday at trainings, the way he fussed when he was sick, the way he trusted and had complete faith on him at the mound, the way he promised a promise that he sincerely wanted to keep. Kaoru placed his palm on top of the hand on his shoulder and smiled.
“I think so too.”
***
Their first game was with Keio.
Kaoru reveled on the way Eijun exploded on the mound, a beast slowly rising from its slumber, a set of fireworks embracing the night sky, a light flooding the dark recesses of his heart – and his heart burst into colors. It was red, and orange, and yellow, and blue, and all the colors of the color palettes he stored on the lowermost part of his drawer. It was the joy of catching the ball a pitcher threw.
It was a rainbow after the storm.
Kaoru couldn’t help but look forward to the next games, the next rounds, the next chances to play with the pitcher in front of him. A small part of him wanted to gloat at Miyuki Kazuya for not choosing Sawamura Eijun, for failing to see the beauty of a rose that hadn’t bloomed yet. There was still more to polish and discover and unlock.
Their team won more and more and more until they have reached the top. Eijun burst into tears at the mound, babbling incomprehensible words as he grinned at his teammates. Kaoru’s heart swelled with pride, his chest burning and burning and burning, but he loved the feeling of burning and there was nothing he wished more than reveling in that burn, burn, burn….
Eijun grabbed his arm and hugged him tightly. “We did it, Yui-shounen! We’ll do it again next year.”
Kaoru grinned. “Yeah, we did.”
Eijun sniffed. “You were so great!”
“You were the best! The best than what I imagined.”
“Your compliments keep coming, Yui-shounen!”
“Shouldn’t you call me Kaoru by now, Eijun-senpai?” teased Kaoru.
Eijun gasped. “You called this Sawamura Eijun by his first name! Hahaha, then I shall call you Kaoru-shounen to exercise fairness!”
Kaoru snorted. “Of course, Your Highness.”
The two spent the night chatting about the game, gobbling down the snacks prepared for their team. And at that moment, Kaoru realized something. Eijun saw him as him – the Yui Kaoru without the title of fallen prodigy, without the catching skills he still thought he lacked, without anything but him, just him, below the mask he had put. Maybe he was the only one who could understand the pain of being second choice.
This time, Kaoru didn’t want to be the second choice.
Call him greedy, but he’d do everything to keep the pitcher in front of him close to him. Nobody, not a single soul, could steal Eijun or else, they’d face his wrath.
They’d be the best battery together.
***
Sawamura Eijun was the ace at his third year.
Kaoru proudly smiled as he saw his senpai get the acknowledgement he deserved. He felt elated to be promoted as the main catcher as well. They were finally the main battery. The best battery.
“You keep complimenting me, Kaoru-shounen,” complained Eijun. “I’d get a sugar crash from all that.”
Kaoru laughed. “Eijun-senpai, I doubt that. You’re too full of energy.”
“Ready to be the best battery ever, partner?”
Kaoru placed his fist on Eijun’s chest. “Always.”
Perhaps Kaoru had underestimated Eijun’s own greediness on the mound. The pitcher did his best to monopolize Kaoru’s time with all his might, and soon, all of Kaoru’s free time was filled with nothing but Eijun, Eijun, Eijun….
Kaoru never complained. Or rather, he couldn’t. Not when he enjoyed it anyway.
He had also underestimated Eijun’s heart. Kaoru stared in shock at the golden box filled with chocolates, CDs, and baseball magazines on his locker – with Eijun glancing at him shyly, his rosy cheeks blooming. Kaoru gulped as he gathered his thoughts clearly, shaking his head as he glanced once again at his locker.
“So, what do you say?” asked Eijun.
A sad look crossed Kaoru’s face. “I’m sorry. I don’t return your feelings.”
Eijun flinched. “I knew it. I don’t mind. I like showing my feelings.”
Eijun’s persistence was truly one of a kind. Kaoru had received so many hugs, gifts and sweet words everyday that it became routinary. He became used to the way Eijun would flash a big smile at him, remind him everyday of how good he was, and hug him on his bad moods. He was engrossed with this routine that he forgot one fact – Eijun would be a fourth year next year.
***
Kaoru was scared.
No, he was downright terrified. This was Eijun’s last year – the last time they’d be a battery in college. Kaoru hated it.
He didn’t want Eijun to leave. He didn’t want to be abandoned and left in the dust. He didn’t want to feel like a second choice again. Not when he was almost feeling better about himself.
He was greedy.
He was selfish.
Most of all, he wanted Sawamura Eijun.
To hell with that – he was fucking madly in love with Sawamura Eijun and he didn’t know how to handle it.
Kaoru had wanted to ask so many times if Eijun still felt the same as last year. He tried to gather as much courage as he could – he failed. Perhaps there was a tiny fear that wormed its way on his heart, and the fear got bigger and bigger and bigger – no, he couldn’t lose him. Not when they’d been together for so long. Not when he was finally entranced and hopelessly in love. Not when he finally wanted to dedicate his baseball to him and him alone.
He was afraid.
One day, he snapped.
“Fuck it,” he muttered as he ran his way to the fields, under the glint of the moonlit sky above him, where he knew that the boy he had fallen in love with was running, running to his heart’s content. And Kaoru was there to chase him because he knew it was worth it – that the pitcher’s back would never be unreachable, that he’d reach his hand out first, that he was everything that he wanted in someone.
Kaoru had already regretted so many things in his life.
He didn’t want to regret this one.
“Sawamura Eijun!” he yelled, running to the middle of the field in full speed, breathing heavily, heart beating wildly in unison with the strange sensation filling his stomach.
Eijun turned around and grinned. “Kaoru-shounen, what are you doing – Hey!”
Kaoru tightly grabbed Eijun’s right arm and dragged him to the spot where they first met in Waseda, the start of something so beautiful that Kaoru wanted to cry and scream. The cold breeze soothed the raging fire inside Kaoru, his hand trembling as he looked at those golden eyes staring back at him curiously.
“Why did you bring me here?”
Kaoru closed his eyes. “I b-b-b – “ He inhaled. “Eijun-senpai, I – “
“Hmmm?”
“Oh, fuck it!”
Before Kaoru could register what he’s doing, he felt soft lips on his own, moving in a gentle caress, and his insides clenched. His fingers clutched on the jacket Eijun wore, holding on for dear life as his right hand tangled itself on smooth locks. The kiss turned more passionate and there was so much going on. A whirlwind circling on Kaoru’s body, and he lost himself to this feeling – this ecstasy he never wanted to let go of.
He was greedy.
He didn’t care anymore.
He was not a second choice. He would never be one.
Kaoru would work tooth and nail and blood and sweat to be Sawamura Eijun’s only choice. And no one – not a single soul – could ever be good enough to replace him.