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It was a matter of surprise to most people that Oerba Yun Fang loved organized sports. Kids whose family comprised most of the town's terrifying bike gang didn't exactly scream "team players." Still, there was something to be said for the pack bonding that came from a playing on a really good ball team. Fang thrived in pack.
Most college baseball teams these days were co-ed. Virtually all of them had multiple pitchers play during the course of every game. Not many, however, played more than one catcher. Fang owed her spot as one of the l'Cie's two first-string catchers to her pitcher.
Oerba Dia Vanille was a knunckleballer. Knuckleballs were notoriously difficult to throw, hit, and catch for. Pitchers who threw them were specialists and so were the catchers who caught them. Since most catchers didn't even get a chance to practice catching a knuckleball unless they happened to be on a team with a knuckleball pitcher, once the match was made, it tended to stick. Catchers and pitchers for this notorious screwball even got traded together. It was a committed partnership that was otherwise unheard of in professional sports.
Fang loved it. She and Vanille came from the same village and had grown up together and they would stick together as long as Fang had breath in her body. And she was viciously happy to be here, on this team, with these people, playing ball with the love of her gay-ass life. It kept things interesting. Baseball, as the saying went, was like a box of chocolates—who ever knew what you were gonna get?
= =
Some of the days in baseball went like this:
The game was going into its 12th inning and it was so. Boring. Fang watched as Maqui collected everyone’s hats and attempted to balance as many as possible on his head. Gadot and Snow were throwing things into each other’s mouths. “Back up further,” Gadot called, a bag of sunflower seeds in his hand.
“You want me to back this ass up?” Snow teased.
“Every day, all the time.” Gadot was dead serious in his tone but a there was twinkle in his eyes. “Now do it.”
They both laughed as Snow obeyed. When Gadot made his shot from eight feet away, it was the most exciting thing to happen in the past 30 minutes.
Hope's mom, who was a fucking saint, kept bringing them things from the concession stand in an attempt to maintain team morale. Lumina had taken full advantage of this and was working her third jumbo pop.
“You’re going to regret that tonight,” Lightning told her.
“There is going to be no tonight,” Lumina said, her head on Serah’s shoulder while she slurped morosely. “This game is never going to end.”
“Then you’re going to regret it in the 16th inning.”
“Don’t say ‘16th inning,’” Fang said. She was lying with her head on Vanille's thigh and had her forearm covering her eyes. “I don't wanna think about that.”
They lost that game 2-1 but Fang wasn't too broken up. At least it fucking ended.
= =
The good days in baseball went something like this:
"Why'd you call for a timeout?" Fang asked, stepping up to the pitcher's mound. They were up 4-1. There was only the runner on first to worry about.
Vanille had her glove up to cover her mouth. "That's their cleanup batter," she said. "She gotta be feeling the pressure right now."
Fang glanced back over her shoulder, towards the big beefy lady waiting at home plate. She covered her own mouth and turned back to Vanille. "So you just wanna make her sweat?" It made sense. Their opponent was weak on offense. The current batter was their only real threat.
"Mmhmm!" Vanille put her other hand over her glove and let her eyes sparkle at Fang. They were standing so close that she was forced to look up, up, up at her and Fang could not see the downside to this at all.
"Devious," she said. "I like that."
"I'm a devious person."
"You are," Fang agreed. "You doing anything after this?"
"Hey!" Vanille's green eyes sparkled. "We're going out after this!"
"Just checking your memory," Fang teased. And she was happy. She cleared her throat. "You think she's had enough?"
Vanille leaned around her, to look back at the cleanup batter. "Yup," she said, still behind her glove.
Fang dropped her own glove from in front of her face, and grinned, baring all her teeth. "Sock it to me."
= =
And some days, went like this:
Fang hated Sanctum University. She didn't know what was in the water over there. Whatever it was, it had turned everyone into a bunch of elitist pricks.
"Are you a dyke?" the first base player asked. Fang could feel eyes on the back of her neck.
Who says it like that? "Why, do you want my number?" Keeping her gaze locked on the pitcher, she crept out a bit towards second base.
"I bet you're a dyke." She had more to say but Maqui had already gotten the hit. Fang was off like a shot towards second.
Rich fucking assholes.
"What is 'a Chad?'" Snow asked to the general chaos in the middle of inning change.
"Gods, I wish I were you," Hope muttered.
"What do you mean?" Yuj asked.
"The second baseman called me a Chad."
"You should tell them you're not a Chad," Lumina chimed. "Tell them you're a volcel!"
"A fucking what," Fang said, eavesdropping as she put on her catcher's gear. Vanille came over to help her. After so long together, they had it down to an art.
"A volcel," Lumina repeated. "You know? A voluntary celibate!"
"I don't," Fang said.
"He's not a volcel," Gadot said with a laugh. "He's not a 'cel' at all. Trust me, I'm his roommate." Out of the corner of her eye, Fang noticed Serah starting to go pink. He elbowed Snow in the stomach and Snow retaliated by getting him in a headlock.
Sazh, their coach, took that moment to reappear in the dugout. "What is the hold up, people?" he demanded. "Switch sides! Let's go!"
The game progressed. The two teams remained frustratingly neck and neck. It was 2-2 in the fifth when Gadot hit a wild foul and Serah managed to steal third base, taking it in a cleats-out slide and colliding with the third baseman.
It was a dry spring day and the impact kicked up a massive storm of dust obscuring the shape of both Serah and the opposing player on the ground. It also obscured Lightning, who was acting as 3rd base coach. The entire l'Cie dugout craned their necks in concern, trying to see. Snow's knuckles were white as he gripped the chain-link fence.
There came the sound of raised voices. Lightning and the other guy.
Snow's knuckles tightened. As Fang felt her jaw set, Sazh leaned out of the dugout, tension palpable. "Captain?"
The figures became visible. Lighting had the third baseman by the collar.
Sazh lurched towards them. "Let him go, solider!" he snapped.
"Hey!" The umpire was bearing down on the scene like a vengeful freight engine. "Hey!"
Some of their teammates started to bunch up around the dugout entrance. Even from where she was, Fang could feel the malice coming off Light in waves. There was a brief, curt discussion between Sazh, the umpire, and the players at third, and then Lightning was being sent back to the dugout.
"Yuj," she said curtly. "You're replacing me as third base coach."
Yuj's face was intensely curious, but he just tucked his cap more firmly over his long hair. "On it, captain," he agreed and slipped around Lightning out of the dugout.
"What happened?" Everyone was crowding around her.
Lightning glared at no one in particular. Voice tight, she said, "He stepped on her hair. When she tried to stand up."
"He did what? " Snow's voice rattled the entire dugout.
"On purpose?" Vanille asked.
Lightning's eyes flickered towards her. "He claims it was an accident."
Fang gave Lightning a nudge. "We could jump him in the parking lot after?" she suggested, eyes flickering between her and Snow.
Lightning didn't...smile exactly but Fang could see her uncoil. Just a bit. She glanced at Fang sidelong. "Yeah."
"Damn right," Snow echoed. The crack of his knuckles was cartoonishly loud. Fang could allow him the posturing, she decided as she looked out over the playing field. Today at least.
Fucking elitist pricks.
In the sixth, Vanille and Fang replaced Yuj and Snow as the pitcher and catcher. A little early, but a change in strategy could give them the edge they needed to pull ahead. The first batter stepped up to the plate, but she was new and over-eager. They got her out with two pitches, coaxing her to hit a foul ball that Lightning easily snagged at third. Fang grinned at the pitcher's mound through she knew Vanille couldn't see it through her mask.
The second guy made it to first base, but the third batter was too in his own head. Fang could tell by how long it took him to fidget himself around before he was finally happy with his stance. It was like watching Maqui in practice, just a little bit. And Fang knew how to go after Maqui.
Fastball, outside. Even Vanille’s fastball had a little bit of float. It was perfect for coaxing a mediocre swing out of a mediocre batter. The ball popped straight up and Fang ran three steps forward and caught it. She grinned at Vanille—who's better than us? —"Two outs!" she called, and tossed the ball back.
So, of course she was feeling confident as the next batter stepped to the plate. Fang took a moment to size him up. This was Sanctum's designated hitter, the one who took the pitchers' at-bats for them. The fucker was big, too. Like, Snow big. Fang couldn't wait to take him down.
Maybe that was optimistic, but she was hyped and she knew Vanille was too. It just would have been so sweet to take him down only using Vanille's knuckleball. Fang signaled for it, and the first pitch was beautiful, an erratic flutter, snapped up by Fang's mitt.
"Strike one!"
She called for another one and the batter twitched; almost swung and checked himself, forcing Fang to reach for the ball just outside the box.
"Ball one!"
"Swing, ump?" Fang asked. A swing-and-miss call was too much to hope for but—
"No swing!" Yeah. Umpires didn't tend to reverse their initial calls.
A little irritated, Fang called for on more knuckler. Come on, Vanille, she thought. Let's get this guy.
Then, Oh shit.
The pitch was wild. It happened with knuckleballs sometimes, such a notorious pitch to control. This one was a dead ball the minute it left Vanille's fingers. It was doomed to hit the batter in the shoulder, Fang knew it even as her body was already reaching out to catch it...
"Ah!" The ball hit the ground with a dull thud. Fang dutifully scooped it up and settled back into her stance.
"Take your base," the ump called.
But the batter ignored him, opting instead to turn and glare down at Fang. "Why the fuck did you do that?"
Fang flicked her gaze to him and then back to the mound. Not worth it, she decided. "I didn't do anything, sunshine."
"Like hell. Why'd you keep calling for that floater?"
"Because it's a good pitch." She glared at him through her mask this time, expression never wavering. "Take your fucking base."
Shockingly, her words did not have a soothing effect. "What, are you mad?" The question was almost nonsensical, the meaningless aggression of someone who was itching for a fight. "Why're you getting mad at me for? I didn't even do anything—"
"Actually, you're pissing me off now mate." Fang got to her feet as she spoke. This bastard really was big. She pointed down the baseline. "Take your base before I hit you."
Was the umpire ever gonna intervene? The batter was pointing to Vanille now. "You tell that little bitch—"
Fang hit him.
All hell broke loose.
The hit was a full body-check, causing him to stumble backwards. As the blood started pounding, Fang was distantly aware of the umpire yelling at her, and of both benches clearing as the players from both teams ran onto the field for an all-out brawl. The batter caught himself, took two steps towards her and then they were fighting for real.
It took three coaches and the umpire to finally break it up. A time out had to be called while the two teams reassembled.
"What the hell was that, Oerba Yun?" Sazh demanded as they all gathered in the dugout again. Fang's lip was bleeding, Hope's eye was rapidly swelling, and Snow's uniform was ripped. There was silence as they all waited for her answer.
She glanced around at her team, mentally shuffling through the various ways she might answer that. "...Well, you can't let someone call your pitcher a bitch, can you?" she settled for finally, dabbing at her lip with the pad of her thumb.
Sazh blinked. Ran his hand through his hair and sighed. Chocobo, possibly sensing the stress, nuzzled at his cheek from his perch on Sazh's shoulder. "What do you say to that little buddy?" Sazh murmured. He got a chirp in response.
With a shake of his head, Sazh turned back to where his team was awaiting his judgement. "Well if anyone asks you if I said this, I'll deny it," he began. "But honestly? Good for you." He put a hand on her shoulder. She met his eyes and nodded. Clearing his throat, Sahz turned to address the whole room.
"l'Cie! You get back out there...And you kick their ass."
= =
After the game, Sahz took them to the pub and bought everyone a round. "I'm proud of you all," he said with a laugh. "Dunno if I'm allowed to say that, considering, you know, the fight and everything. But it's true. We won the fight, and we won the game."
"Win the fight, win the game!" Snow called.
"Win the fight, win the game!" they all echoed. A few of the other patrons in the bar turned their heads. Fang smirked back at them and reached for her drink when the bartender held it out.
"Hey-yyy." Vanille slid up beside her, rubbing shoulders like a needy cat.
"Hey yourself." Fang smiled at her, even as she worked the bottle cap open with her pocket knife.
Vanille crossed her arms over the bar top with affected hesitation. She was batting her eyelashes. "So umm...Wanna get out of here?" Her voice lilting bright and cheery at the end. They had all changed out of their uniforms before the pub. Her cute little bra was visible through the gap of her fringey crop top.
Fang smiled down at her, infinitely fond as her body warmed pleasantly. "I do."
"Hold up ladies." Sazh settled on Fang's other side, one elbow propped on the bar. They both turned to look at him. "I just wanted to tell you," he said, looking to Fang in particular. "The game officials asked me about the fight. I told them you were provoked."
Fang felt one eyebrow tick up in surprise. "They believe you?" she asked, taking a draw off her beer.
Sazh sighed. It was an oddly resigned sound. "Yup. They actually been having problems with Sanctum's team all season, so they were willing to buy it's their fault. I guess these are the kind of attitude problems you get when your school can afford to keep paying the fines on your behalf."
"The fines?" Vanille leaned around Fang to blink at him.
"Three fines last season and one more already this year," Sazh confirmed. "I told 'em, 'clearly something ain't working if you keep fining them and these things keep happening.' I think they're gonna have talks about suspending the whole team."
Huh. "How about that?" Fang said.
"How about that," Sazh agreed. "Anyway, just thought I'd pass that along." He looked between Fang and Vanille with a shake of his head, way too knowing. It occurred to Fang that Sazh might be the closest thing she would ever have to a father figure. "I'll let y'all go now."
"Thanks Coach!" Vanille chirped, her hand slipping into Fang's and tugging. Fang tossed some gil onto the counter for their drinks and took her beer in hand before allowing herself to be led out into the night. Some of the team, mostly at Maqui's table, noticed them leaving; wolf-whistles and howls sounded in their wake. Fang bared her teeth and happily flipped them off. Pack of wild animals, all of them.
God, she loved baseball.