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The steady beeping of his alarm announced that another day was dawning. Sliding his eye mask up, he reached out to quiet it. The room was dark and now silent.
With a deep breath, he pressed himself up. He nearly sighed again in relief at no longer feeling the clench and twinge of his pulled muscle. Instead, he only felt the ghost pains that came from the memories of the days after the fall tournament where he had to move with hesitation lest he aggravate the damn thing.
Caught up in his own satisfaction, it was only when halfway dressed that Kazuya felt a snag in his belly remembering what day it was.
He'd been preoccupied figuring out where he fit on the field being a captain in name alone for the past few weeks. It had even taken him by surprise really, seeing how much baseball gave to him and also how much it could take away when he wasn't able to play. It had made his cheeky thought of Baseball is my life mean something completely different to him recently.
In the crest and fall of Jingu, he'd had to watch bitterly and with reverence as a singular run became the decisive factor ending their season—and from the bleachers of all places. It was what made baseball so thrilling and, at the same time, utterly devastating.
He hummed a bit to himself, thinking about his penchant for being so all-or-nothing. The thrill was everything he wanted when he could have it, but then there were times like this when the darkness of his room suddenly felt heavy.
Reaching for his phone, he squinted at the screen. The back of his eyes ached at its brightness. His eyebrows raised when he saw a message waiting for him.
It was from his father.
Happy birthday.
He couldn't help but grin a little as he typed out a quick reply, thanking him for the message. It was always like a star shooting through the sky, some cosmic rendezvous, when he and his father managed to make contact with one another. It felt reassuring when it happened, but also rather fragile. Something twisted in his belly.
With a sigh, he stashed his phone in his bag. Suddenly the darkness of the room felt too private. It was like being inside a cocoon; safe, warm, and insular. Really, that was how winter always felt to Kazuya, and the sincerity of this season unnerved him a bit.
Spring was like a head rush with all of its promises and new beginnings.
Summer a roar of adrenaline and the grit of tenacity.
Fall felt focused, wisened from the defeats of summer.
But then there was winter.
It brought him back to himself, almost too much. Just like the leaves falling away to reveal the landscape otherwise covered in growth and bloom, when the height of the season fell away it made him turn inward in a way he wasn't always certain he was ready for.
It was just divine timing that his birthday paired with this shift, creating an echo where there was perhaps just hollowness before.
Running a hand through his hair, he chastised himself feeling the childish swell in his belly at the idea that maybe someone on the team would take notice of the date. Even worse, he found himself thinking of a particular pitcher who didn't seem to know the difference between his own business and everyone else's.
How embarrassing, he shuddered, recoiling at his own tender feelings.
Putting on his glasses, he felt more protected and steeled himself with an idea that he found quite funny. He realized he could spend all day not telling a soul it was his birthday and laugh at their reaction when he revealed it later. He could hardly stop himself from grinning when he played out the scenario in his mind.
Kazuya knew he often teased too hard and too relentlessly—he never disagreed when people called him things like sick and twisted—but he simply couldn't help himself. In his mind, the alternative was someone else calling the shots, controlling the pace, tugging him around on a leash. Just the thought was nearly enough to make him blanch.
He was content chasing his own self-satisfaction, because that was all he could guarantee for himself, whatever form that took.
Opening the door, he found himself relishing the way the wind stung against his cheeks.
"CAP!"
Geez.
Kazuya flinched, stomach reeling and heart hammering that the jig would be up even sooner than even he had been anticipating.
He found himself wanting to think that Sawamura could at least give him the gift of silence today, but his heart betrayed him all too quickly.
He could at least not yell this early, Kazuya compromised with himself.
"What do you need, Sawamura?" he drolled, poking at his breakfast.
He could practically hear it in his head now, Sawamura making some overly genuine statement about him being born and the nature of life, death, and celebration. The warmth he felt in his belly was decidedly from the rice he was working on, not the scene he just played out in his head.
"You better be taking your rehab seriously to catch my pitches again, you hear! I have talked to Chris-senpai! He'll be keeping an eye on you so you can't pull any stunts!"
Kazuya heard the clatter and slide of chairs and trays as Kuramochi sat next to him, scolding Sawamura for being so loud.
"Shut it, Bakamura, some of us have our own thoughts we want to hear."
Only this idiot would go out of his way to be so straightforward like this. Everyone else had either been treading on eggshells or grinning and bearing Kazuya's behavior recently. Granted, when they didn't think he was looking, he was pretty sure they just looked sorry for him. It made him queasy.
"Conspiring against the captain, are we? Not a good look if you're hoping to be the ace," he teased.
He knew it was probably asking for too much, but he hoped Sawamura could someday read between the lines and know that his teases and jabs about the ace position were his way of saying he believed in his abilities.
I want to see how far you'll go.
On the face of it, Kazuya just wanted to have fun. He wanted the stakes to keep rising. He wanted to revel in the challenge and intensity, to be at Kōshien with the air vibrating with tension and to throw a ball straight through it, it's why he chose Seido after all.
But more privately, tucked in a place where he didn't venture often was the trembling thought about what would happen if—no, when—Sawamura kept exceeding his expectations.
It scared him just as much as thrilled him, because if he was already in this deep now when Sawamura was still developing as a pitcher, like a calf learning how not to stampede into a fence with its enthusiasm, then where would that leave Kazuya in his wake when he began to reach his full potential?
"Oi, I'm not going to defend you if you're just going to encourage him," Kuramochi complained.
"Do not taint Chris-senpai's name with mentions of subterfuge!"
Kazuya was pulled back out of his thoughts with Sawamura's raucous yelling.
"I didn't know you had a vocabulary like that," he delighted with a face of put-on surprise.
"What?!"
"Ah, vocabulary means-"
"I know what vocabulary means, you asshole!"
Just as Kazuya was about to make another comment about a different type of vocabulary Sawamura was putting on display, the pitcher sat on his other side and glanced around furtively before leaning in and saying with great sincerity, "We'll keep it a secret that Cap can get lonely, too."
Lonely?
With a firm nod of his head, which Kazuya could only return with a bewildered stare, he proclaimed, "So be diligent like Chris-senpai and heal properly!"
Seeing a blur in his peripheral vision, he looked up to find Furuya nodding his head emphatically from across the table.
"Don't you be rushing me now," Kazuya scolded, practically scoffing that Furuya of all people was now offering commentary on injuries. In retrospect, it may have been wise for him to take up Furuya's pointed suggestion to go to the hospital with him, but it wasn't like Furuya hadn't done his fair share of hiding or neglecting injuries.
Tch.
This is exactly why he had to complain about catching for these two so much. So self-centered. If only they knew that his palm was practically itching to catch for them again, it'd be game over.
Still, he found himself warm with amusement over the whole thing, so much so that he nearly forgot about Sawamura's unexpected comment.
Lonely?
"What are you looking at me for?!"
It was only with Sawamura's exclamation that Kazuya realized he was staring at him.
Thankfully, Sawamura began to ridiculously swipe at his own chin and mouth, clearly concerned that there was food stuck to it and giving cause for Kazuya to be staring.
"Just amazed that you're allowed to walk around unsupervised," he sang, trying to ignore the way his own face grew a bit hot at being caught looking.
He really did have a good reason, though, at least this time. The other times he'd found himself gazing at the southpaw told a different story. But this time it was because he was trying to figure out what Sawamura was playing at. These moments of his quiet sincerity always managed to leave him a bit breathless, and this was no exception.
"That's what Kuramochi-senpai is for!" he said with glee, eyes practically sparkling as he looked one place down from where Kazuya was sitting.
"I think you got the wrong idea, kid!"
When Sawamura began to run off to class, Kazuya watched as he paused and whipped around.
Ah, here it is, he thought with some satisfaction.
"Miyuki!"
"That's Miyuki-senpai to you."
Marco! Polo!
His reply was practically a daily call-and-response for them. But with its regularity, he knew that Sawamura used it to make sure he was really listening or to emphasize his point.
Or maybe to say something ridiculously earnest.
Kazuya tried to swallow down the buzz he was feeling in his stomach over the idea.
"Please give Chris-senpai my thanks. And I'll know if you're lying, because I'll message him!"
He also tried to ignore feeling like his bubble had been burst. Instead, he felt his face twist a bit irritably. Thanks for what? Watching over him like some invalid in Sawamura's stead?
"Just do that in the first place then, I'm not your messenger boy."
He felt that something twist even tighter inside of him, like only partially turning the cap of a soda bottle until it fizzed and spilled over, when Sawamura simply grinned and waved him off.
"Whatever you say, Captain!"
Kazuya could practically hear Kuramochi laughing in his ear at whatever scowl he was wearing on his face at this point.
"That all, Sawamura?"
That grin Sawamura was wearing only became that much more unnerving. The most threatening part about it was that it lacked any real edge. Rather, it looked like a smile that you give someone when they're not looking. Kazuya felt like he shouldn't be seeing it even when it was being offered to him directly. It told him that Sawamura knew something he didn't.
"Why? Were you expecting something else?"
Kazuya had to act fast to cover his own surprise, hoping that his quick reply of, "Ah, just looked like you were thinking more than usual! My mistake!" would be enough to light Sawamura's usually short fuse.
He felt rather desperate when it didn't have any effect whatsoever. Instead, he still had the southpaw standing in front of him, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets and grinning like he had a secret he couldn't wait to tell.
Sawamura may wear his heart on his sleeve, but it didn't make it any less concerning most of the time. In fact, he nearly had Kazuya in a sweat over whatever gears were turning in his mind. As telepathic as their battery may be—and as thrilled as he would be to see this glimmer in Sawamura's eyes out on the diamond—this idiot still managed to think of and do things he could never understand.
"When do you get to return to practice?"
It seemed like his luck had run out. Kazuya had felt spared by the gods for a second when he'd been able to stare out the window throughout class without being called on or anyone disturbing his thoughts. Granted, he was mostly focused on the vague, swirling feelings that were doing somersaults in his mind and stomach over the course of the day.
But Kuramochi had arrived to ask questions about what had come to be one of his least favorite subjects. What irritated him about it was that he felt like everyone knew the answer when they asked. He'd be out there as soon as he could be, wasn't that obvious?
"I've been out there. Why? Captain duties too much for you?"
Without looking, he could feel Kuramochi roll his eyes. He was sure that his friend wanted to point out that running laps and sitting in the bullpen making remarks weren't the same as practice.
"I knew it was too much to expect a straight answer from you. You know what I mean."
"As soon as I get clearance," he replied tersely.
"You're going to have me believe that you haven't been asking your doctor every day if you can join practice? I call bullshit."
"And that's why I'm in charge of game-calling."
"I can't believe I put up with you sometimes," Kuramochi sighed.
"Me neither! You must be even more twisted than I am."
Where he'd been enjoying their verbal spar and how it made him feel like he was back in the rhythm with things, he was surprised to see Kuramochi not griping or growling in return. Instead, he was giving that same kind of look that had crossed Sawamura's face earlier that day. That same look of I know something you don't, but I'll humor you.
But he knew better than to pry as he felt like that would be playing directly into the hands of whatever this was. It wouldn't surprise him if Kuramochi was happy to go along with some plot of Sawamura's, especially if it was at his expense.
"Oh, Miyuki..." Kuramochi said suddenly, as though just remembering something.
He hummed in response, trying to look unaffected and not like he was wondering if at least his friend had remembered what day it was. He felt equal conviction that Kuramochi was a good enough friend to remember his birthday and that he was a total loser for hoping he did.
Kazuya was perplexed to find Kuramochi waving the statement off, "I completely forgot! Kyahaha! Catch you later."
With that, he stood up making some excuse about needing to see the managers for something. It was his turn to roll his eyes.
The end of class was announced with shuffling papers and clattering chairs. Glancing at the clock, Kazuya noted that he had a little bit of time before he needed to meet Rei for a ride over to the training facility for rehab.
He felt a bit like he was coming out of a fog the way he had gotten absorbed in his thoughts, the teacher's voice just a murmur in the background. Kazuya had started to think about what he wanted to do with his free time if everyone was none the wiser about his birthday.
But in his daydream, he was surprised to find that every scenario he imagined involved being surrounded by the team in one way or another. Catching for Sawamura. Teasing Furuya about his lack of stamina. Swinging practice with Kuramochi. Nabe talking about scorebooks. Yuki cornering him into a shogi match.
Oi, oi, when did I get so soft? he'd found himself lamenting.
But there was a sweetness to it. He wasn't left wanting much here.
"Miyuki!"
Pausing outside of the classroom, he turned to see Nabe approaching, waving him down.
Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Kazuya tilted his head with curiosity.
"Have a second?"
He hummed for a moment, thinking about how much time he had between now and when he needed to meet Rei.
"Yeah, I can spare a moment, what's up?"
Nabe had come up to walk beside him as they headed down the hall.
"The managers asked me to find you. They have some questions about the scorebooks."
Kazuya gave a sideway glance at Nabe, trying to evaluate the expression he was wearing. Huh. It didn't seem like he had that secretive smile that Sawamura or Kuramochi were wearing earlier.
"Well, let's hope I have the answers," he replied cheekily, offering a small smile in response.
Nabe let out a small laugh. He was certain they were both thinking of the first days of his injury where Kazuya would putter around campus being painfully conspicuous about trying to find something, anything baseball-related to concern himself with.
The managers had graciously brought him into their fold and even endured Kazuya's pointed criticisms about best practices in scorebook notation styles. Kazuya nearly rubbed the back of his neck, a little ashamed thinking about it, but hey, if it meant better data, he was fine with them having to swallow their annoyance. Besides, over the weeks they had managed to find a rhythm between each other.
When they reached the clubhouse, Kazuya swallowed and tried to ignore the tingle in his belly as Nabe reached for the door.
When he opened it, Kazuya looked in to see the managers seated around a table, scorebooks stacked between them. Only half of the lights were on as the dim sunlight of the waning afternoon poured in the windows. It was quiet and almost nostalgic.
Kazuya nearly burst out laughing when he felt himself wilt a little bit.
It really is just about scorebooks, he thought, biting back a smile at his own foolishness.
With a chorus of greetings and waves to meet them, Kazuya followed Nabe over to take a seat at the table. Just as he'd promised, they had some questions about the scorebooks and best practices in anticipation of the first years that would be joining them in the spring.
It felt like only a few moments had passed before he heard the door creak open and the clicking of heels against laminate flooring.
"Miyuki-kun," Rei greeted, arms crossed in front of her and giving a pointed glance at the clock.
"Ah, my apologies, Rei-chan," he grinned, waving a scorebook in his hand to offer an explanation for the delay. Her small smile in response promised him that all was forgiven, so long as he got moving.
As the car departed from campus, Kazuya looked out the window and felt a pang of longing as they passed the baseball field. Even as their shadows grew long and made it hard to distinguish one figure from the next, he could see them run across the field, swinging bats, winding up for a pitch. It made his skin vibrate and legs restless.
His chest felt heavy when the car left the proximity of Seido and met the open road. It only made the distance between him and the baseball he wanted to play that much more palpable.
"What happened for you to suddenly request this?"
Kazuya considered the question, glancing towards Rei. A few days prior, he had gone to her, asking to visit the facility when Chris would be there.
"Well, things I'm allowed to do right now are limited," he explained, trying to shrug off this line of conversation before they got too into it. "So, I just thought it would be a good change of pace."
"Everybody is patiently waiting for you to come back."
Kazuya bit at the inside of his cheek. On one hand, he appreciated the sentiment from Rei, but on the other, it made him squirm a little bit for such sentiments to be said out loud. Maybe it was some kind of paranoia, but when people said things like that, it made him wonder how true they really were. After all, if it was true, did you need to say it in the first place?
"I wonder about that," he sighed, pointedly looking out the window.
"So you don't need to rush, you know?" she continued after a pause.
"There you go again, huh."
"Why don't you try expressing yourself more, like you did that time? Without trying to shoulder everything alone."
Oi, Rei-chan, this is just a commute not a therapy session, he groaned inwardly.
Besides, today had been revealing enough that he'd grown softer, more reliant, more attached than he wanted to be. Being attached to baseball was one thing—he was the one playing the game.
The importance of teamwork wasn't lost on him either—though even there he sometimes had less than stellar marks, just ask Zono—but on the diamond, he felt safe asking for more. He was used to pitchers scrambling to please him and playing with their egos. He was used to being reliable and proving his worth. He had the skills out there to make him worth being around.
Off the field, he wasn't so certain.
His injury had put him in this place of purgatory, struggling to see where he fit. It left him feeling unmoored and anxious. That's why he had asked to see Chris today, because he knew he was more familiar with this space than anyone else.
Nonetheless, he felt cornered by Rei's sentiments. Face growing warm and setting his jaw, he took aim.
"Actually, Rei-chan, what about you? Do you have someone like that? A person you can open up to, I mean...?"
The hum of the car was the only response he got.
After another beat, he looked in Rei's direction to find her staring off pointedly, steely-faced.
"...Okay, look, I'm sorry," he grimaced, wincing a bit.
"I'm really sorry, and I mean it."
"Eh? A card with get-well messages?"
Kazuya felt his brow furrow as he absent-mindedly played with the foam roller he'd picked up. Chris sat in front of him on a bench while Animal and Rei conversed across the gym space. Despite their little exchange in the car, Rei had still been kind enough to walk him in and it seemed like she'd be waiting until he was done with his session.
Going through their stretches and beginning some of the exercises he'd been prescribed, Chris and himself had caught up about the topics of everyday life.
It was only when their conversation hit a stutter that he'd managed to push past the catch in his throat to ask, "Hey.. Chris-senpai?"
Rather than ridiculing him for being so deferent, as he was sure many an upperclassman would seize upon if they weren't as saintly as Chris was, he'd simply hummed in acknowledgement.
"What kept you going?" he found himself asking suddenly, wincing a little bit. But he figured that he'd already opened this can of worms. "How did you figure out your place in it all?"
Kazuya leaned against the foam roller with one hand and played with the hem of his sweatshirt with the other.
He was surprised to hear Chris respond so quickly with, "A card from the team wishing me luck in my recovery."
In response to his surprise, Chris explained, "Yeah, I got it soon after my surgery."
"To be honest, I couldn't bring myself to accept it right away," he continued after a moment, looking past Kazuya now. "Come to think of it, that card always stuck in my mind... and thanks to it, I've never once thought about quitting the club."
Kazuya couldn't help but smile a bit wistfully.
Of course Chris would manage to make something that Kazuya felt embarrassed and dodgy about—namely, the expressed feelings of others—into something like a strength.
It really was a shame they couldn't have had a real tried and true rivalry during their time at Seido. It went without saying that he was going to be watching Chris's next moves carefully, hoping to make that a reality in the future.
But maybe he should be grateful, because he's not sure he would ever truly be able to surpass the upperclassman when it came to matters such as this. It still gnawed at Kazuya that he had to call Chris in when Sawamura was swallowed up by the yips.
Speaking of, he isn't sure he would've survived seeing Sawamura and Chris's battery become full-fledged. While seeing the energetic first year worship the ground Chris walked on, Kazuya knew himself well enough to know that the humor of it all came from knowing that he'd be the one catching his pitches once they were on the field.
That reminded Kazuya.
"Your disciple told me to give you his thanks," he smirked.
Chris simply shook his head, taking a break from the exercise he'd been doing to sit down. Of course, even though he was shaking his head he was smiling at the mention of Sawamura.
He really was the mood maker even when he wasn't in the room, huh.
"He also said you'd be watching me like a hawk making sure I wasn't cutting any corners," he grinned, cheeks aching.
Kazuya was met with a look that begged for him to be kidding.
"It's true! I'm telling you!" Kazuya insisted with a laugh. "It's that moron we're talking about after all."
"If I remember correctly he said something like, 'Be diligent like Chris-senpai and heal properly!'"
He couldn't bring himself to reach the volume at which Sawamura spoke, or rather hollered, but it was an otherwise pretty spot on impression.
Seeing Chris chuckle at it helped abate some of the warmth he felt rise to the tip of his ears at the realization.
"Careful," Chris replied. "If you get too good at that, you won't be able to speak at a normal volume again."
Kazuya's chest bubbled up with laughter. Once it died down, Kazuya chewed on his lower lip for a second before deciding to maybe take a chance at listening to Rei's advice from earlier.
"Thanks, Chris-senpai."
It wasn't much, but based on the earnest look that Chris gave in response, he knew that they were heavy words.
Seeing Rei approach from the other side of the room, he took it as a signal that it was time to return to school.
"Well, guess we're off," Kazuya said, putting the foam roller back in its spot and giving a nod in Rei's direction.
"Don't be a stranger," Chris said.
It was a casual enough comment, but the way Chris held his gaze told Kazuya that there was more to it. It was only fair, he supposed, given he'd just done the same with the way he'd given his thanks. But boy, was it a bit unnerving sometimes.
No witty remark came to mind, which meant there was no buffer against the sincerity of the exchange. Swallowing a bit thickly, Kazuya motioned a quick farewell to Chris and Animal before following Rei out of the facility.
The car ride back was uneventful enough. Rei was kind enough to let a comfortable silence settle between them about halfway through.
Looking out the window again, Kazuya took in how the streetlights spilled into the car.
The day was almost over.
He wasn't sure how the prospect of it made him feel.
Did he want to win this little game he'd made between himself and everyone without their knowledge? Was it even a game if the opponent was unaware? And what was the prize?
Was emphasizing the emotional distance he held between himself and his teammates really the best game to play right now?
Bottom of the eighth, bases loaded, 3-2 count, what's the call?
After consulting with Chris, he was less certain than he was that morning. Nonetheless, it would be a bit ridiculous to say to someone at the eleventh hour, Hey, it's actually my birthday, want to do something?
Perhaps he would just let the day pass quietly and not make mention of it. They'd be lost in the throes of winter training camp soon enough and it would escape notice.
Sitting back in the seat of the car, Kazuya resigned himself to it. But first, he would give himself a little gift that only he would know was such. He could hardly keep the grin off of his face thinking of it. The center of his palm felt bare.
Exiting the car and approaching the dorm on foot, Kazuya could hear the hushed rumble that came with housing dozens of teenage boys. A call from a hallway, an exclamation from a room, the rise and swell of conversation from the cafeteria, it would be a constant hum until lights out.
"Thanks for taking me, Rei-chan," he said, turning towards the cafeteria.
"Miyuki-kun."
Pausing, he looked back over his shoulder, one hand holding the taut shoulder strap of his bag.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself," she finally said with a kind smile.
Kazuya felt his eyebrows raise in surprise.
Geez, what's with everyone today.
He rubbed the back of his neck that had grown hot to the touch. Looking away for a second, he replaced his expression with a mischievous one before looking back at Rei.
"Remember I'm only seventeen, Rei-chan! I'm not that mature for my age," he snickered.
Kazuya felt a little bad seeing Rei freeze and clench her fists at her sides. He was certain if it wasn't dark out, embarrassment would be evident on her face. Hopefully she could find it in her heart to forgive him.
His giggling was cut off when Rei's expression suddenly gave way to confusion, eyebrows knit and mouth ajar.
"Wait-"
Seventeen.
Oh shit. Kazuya's eyes widened and he clenched the strap of his bag a little tighter, determined to turn on his heel and head to the cafeteria.
"Have a good night, Rei-chan," he called over his shoulder, resolutely walking forward.
"Miyuki-kun! Is it-"
"I said have a good night!"
It turns out he'd arrived late enough for the cafeteria to be down to its last members by the time Kazuya stepped inside. With a deep exhale, he set his bag on a bench and got his allotted portions. While a part of him was admittedly yearning for a little more liveliness, this gave him a moment to shake off the conversation he'd had with Rei.
Chewing his mouthful of rice, he instead tried to set his sights on the reward he'd picked for himself today. It was hard not to laugh, because the game he'd selected was much more fun than the one he'd schemed of this morning.
The rules of this game were that whichever pitcher he ran into first, he was going to offer to catch for them tonight. Probably just ten pitches and he wouldn't toss them back as to not strain his side, but at this point he was desperate to hear the sound the ball fitting into his mitt and feel its resonance through his body. Kazuya figured he deserved this much.
Maybe this game erred on the side of cruel, but it was rather funny to him thinking about Furuya and Sawamura being in this unspoken competition together. He loved it even more that he wasn't entirely certain who would win out given they were both always clamoring for his attention.
Granted, they had certainly eased off because of his injury. Sawamura had gone so far to berate Furuya for asking him to catch, squawking like a real mother hen about Kazuya needing to heal. But, of course, he was practically begging Kazuya to think about catching for him just by looks alone.
You don't even need to say anything, Bakamura, he thought with amusement. It's written all over your face.
Putting his plates up, he walked up to his room to set his bag down. While he tried to keep his gaze forward, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander a bit. He was filled with a little disdain to not even hear Kuramochi's laugh or Sawamura's yelling.
Listen to yourself, Kazuya chastised himself with a little huff of a laugh. Maybe they should check if he did have a concussion after all.
He only drove this point home when he found himself pausing with his hand on the door handle, genuinely wondering if maybe everyone was gathered on the other side of the door waiting for him. Kazuya really found himself wondering this, despite knowing he would have already heard the murmurs of taunts and laughter or the light spilling from under the door.
But even as he berated himself for hoping, it didn't lessen the way his chest twisted when he flung the door open with a little extra effort to simply have a darkened room to greet him.
Damn.
Running a hand through his hair, he stepped in and flicked the light switch. Turning the light on almost made the room feel that much more vacant.
He checked his phone.
All that gazed back at him was the time.
Kazuya reassured himself that the day was yet to be over and that this wasn't life or death. It was easy enough to find some pitcher begging to throw a few, even in the receding hours of the evening. He was surrounded by a bunch of baseball idiots after all, though he was really feeling the emphasis on idiot applying to himself in this moment.
Pocketing his phone and grabbing his glove, he stepped out of his room.
Now where would I be...
"Miyuki Kazuya!"
Kazuya was mortified at the sheer relief he felt rush through him hearing Sawamura's voice. But, at this point, he had never been so thankful to hear Sawamura's yelling.
Turning around, he tried to make the smile that spread across his face look a little more sly. Sawamura was standing in front of him, looking as determined as ever, finger pointing at Kazuya.
"Forgot which room was yours, Bakamura?" he grinned, crossing his arms in front of him.
Even Kazuya recognized that he was lucky to have anyone seeking out his attention with the way he liked to needle and rib others until it bruised and left them aching. Much less for those people to be as loyal and pure of heart as Sawamura.
But especially right now, he felt desperate to test the distance that really separated himself from other people. How hard could he push and they would still be there? Kazuya was as scared as he was desperate to figure out the answer before it took him by surprise.
Balking for a second, Sawamura stuttered, "No- I- Where are you going with your glove, Cap?!"
Kazuya took a breath, negotiating with himself. A cruel, scared part of himself wanted to play with barb and thorns, acting on the bitterness he'd felt over the past few weeks of feeling left behind. Another part of him wanted to finally be sincere, to heed Rei and Chris's words and work to lessen the distance he'd felt develop due to the circumstances.
Meet me halfway, Sawamura, he wanted to pray, desperate to lean on the telepathy that their battery seemed to grant. That only seemed to apply when it came to baseball, but this was about baseball, wasn't it?
"Well, I'm feeling a little wired and was hoping to catch for a bit," he replied, holding his glove up in explanation.
Kazuya felt his heart accelerate seeing Sawamura's face light up, and all without him having to say something embarrassing to get there. He felt incredibly self-satisfied by the way this was playing out. Everyone could get what they wanted for once.
Well, maybe except poor Furuya. Kazuya cringed a little thinking about it. He was the ace, he could deal with it, they'd have plenty of chances to be a battery Kazuya concluded.
He was a bit surprised to find that Sawamura seemed to hesitate, though.
"I can't believe I'd see the day where you'd hesitate when I'm offering to catch for you," he said with surprise, eyebrows raised and feeling a little hysterical.
"It's not like that!" Sawamura replied hotly. "It's just- are you cleared to catch?"
The pitcher glared at Kazuya suspiciously, bottom lip jutting out into a pout.
"Just a few, and I won't toss them back," he said, palms up in surrender.
C'mon, Sawamura, take the bait, he begged.
After a moment of consideration, Sawamura planted his hands on his hips and nodded his head.
"I'll hold you to that, Captain! I will not undo Chris-senpai's vigilance."
"Yeah, yeah," Kazuya laughed, trying to cover up the way his insides were practically vibrating at the prospect of getting to actually catch. He had been nervous for a moment that the virtuous Sawamura Eijun would actually relegate him to something like bed rest. But just like him, pitchers were always just on this side of selfish, and he had never been more grateful for it.
"Well?" he questioned, eyebrow raised when Sawamura wasn't making any moves.
"I- Ah, I forgot my glove in my room!" he yelped, looking around him as though it would suddenly materialize.
Kazuya shook his head with exasperation and punched into the glove he'd since slipped on. With a nod, he motioned to Sawamura to lead the way to his room.
As they walked quickly down the corridor, he watched as Sawamura kept glancing at him, as though if he took his eyes off Kazuya he'd vanish and he'd lose his chance to pitch.
It made something clench in his heart a little to feel so... wanted.
But, of course, as soon as he swallowed something sickly sweet like that down, something bitter bubbled up.
"What did I do to end up with such a forgetful kōhai?" he lamented, wincing at how his tone came out with a little more bite to it than he intended.
Hilariously, it was just as revealing as what it was trying to cover up. Because, as much as he hated to admit it, there was still a piece of him that had wanted Sawamura to remember more than just the location of his glove.
He was expecting Sawamura to say something about his bad personality, for him to thank him for the not-compliment, and for them to play catch because, for better or worse, Sawamura was used to it. It was their rhythm, even if Kazuya found himself sometimes regretting the way he set the tone.
What he didn't expect was a small grin in return, Sawamura's eyes dancing with their own mischief.
It was unnerving, if Kazuya was being honest, and he felt his stomach leap as Sawamura reached for the door to his room.
Taking a step forward, as the door opened, he looked in and didn't even have time to hide his surprise.
"Kyahaha! You really got him, Sawamura! Look at his face!"
Blinking for a moment to let his eyes adjust, he was met with the view of third years and first string players all seated and crammed around Sawamura and Kuramochi's dorm. Furuya was seated proudly by the collection of drinks he'd gathered. Yuki had already set himself up by the shogi board. Jun and Kuramochi were wrestling over one another to take a picture of his certainly stunned face. Other players had controllers or drinks in hand.
"Happy birthday, Cap!"
Sawamura's announcement brought a flood of jeers and shouts from the rest of the team, a grab bag of good-natured ribbing and birthday wishes all saturating the rather tight space.
Stepping a bit sheepishly into the room, feeling a bit dumb to have his glove on and everything at this point, he looked around a bit hesitantly. Luckily, after a bit of yelling and excitement, everyone turned back to what they'd been previously absorbed in.
Feeling a nudge at his arm, he blinked again when he was met with Sawamura's fierce gaze. He was already feeling a bit unsteady processing this all and that look nearly made his heart stop with its ferocity. Looking down, he saw what the first year was trying to present to him.
"A... card?" Kazuya practically squeaked out.
For once, Sawamura didn't add any commentary. Instead, with a firm nod, he released it into Kazuya's grasp.
He felt his throat tighten and nose ache a bit. Desperate to not have all that on display here, he ducked towards Sawamura a bit and asked a bit blankly, knowing exactly the buttons he was pressing, "So.. we aren't playing catch?"
Kazuya shouldn't have been surprised to feel Sawamura's hands clutch at his collar to thrash him around. Laughter poured out of him and it carried so much with it. It was like a valve had been opened and all the stress and fear he'd began accumulating over the past few weeks was now finding a point of release.
"Miyuki Kazuya! You greedy bastard!" Sawamura yelled at him, but Kazuya could hear him laughing, too.
He felt Sawamura's grip loosen. Eyes bleary with tears and chest heaving, he watched as Sawamura glanced around a bit furtively, only to lean in and say with a conspiratorial tone, "You said just a few right?"
"What? Not enough for you?" he teased, keeping his voice low.
He reveled in the way that Sawamura huffed in reply. But, of course, he couldn't keep the act up for long, breaking into a self-effacing grin to say, "I.. don't think they'll notice if we're gone for just a bit."
Clapping Sawamura on the back, Kazuya decided to not restrain his grin. He watched as Sawamura grabbed his glove, careful to not get caught in conversation before returning to Kazuya at the door.
He was certain that everyone saw them leave, but in this moment, he was at peace with letting their pity or whatever they felt for his condition smooth it all over.
Kazuya was grateful it was cool outside right now. He felt warm all over and like his head was swimming a little bit. Watching Sawamura duck out of the room, Kazuya couldn't help but feel a bit of wonder directed towards his teammate. Whose idea had this been?
"Hey, Sawamura..." he said without thinking, his tongue felt a little loose from whatever this feeling was that was rushing through him.
Kazuya watched as Sawamura held his gaze, eyes practically glowing in the evening light.
Whatever it was he wanted to say felt like it was caught in his chest and only squeezing tighter.
"Were you thinking about how to still get me to catch for you earlier?" he settled on. It was a far cry from the other questions and thoughts that he still felt tangled inside of him, but he'd be lying if he didn't revel in the way Sawamura stuttered and fumbled to reply.
Kazuya couldn't help but laugh, thinking about how Sawamura's deliberation in front of his room earlier had really made the whole surprise rather convincing—but it was only because Sawamura really had been thinking about prioritizing pitching over the whole first string gathered in his room!
"My sides! My sides!" he gasped out, his knees growing weak from laughter as Sawamura's face grew redder by the second.
Especially when he'd returned to his room, thumb brushing over the multitude of inscriptions on the card he'd brought back with him, Kazuya found himself thinking back to his realization earlier.
He really wasn't left wanting much here.