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“Okay Monster, that’s enough for tonight.”
No, I can keep going
“Miyuki-Senpai, do you have time for a little more? I can keep pitching.”
Miyuki shook his head, pulling off his mask to smirk at Satoru sardonically. “I know you can, but Sawamura caught me in a good mood and I promised him twenty pitches. We’ll be back at it tomorrow, don’t strain yourself.”
Sawamura…
“Oi! Lazy Senpai! You told me to be ready half an hour ago!”
Eijun ran into the bullpen, arms flailing and spewing hot air, raging furiously at Miyuki. The older just laughed at him, smartly responding with, “I’m retired now, you know. I don’t have to do this at all, but out of the goodness of my heart, I still train with you. I have plenty of stuff to keep me busy and you both have other catchers.”
Satoru lifted his head, frowning, but Eijun beat him to the punch, exuberating happiness and sliding into Miyuki’s space, throwing an arm around his neck, his fingers trailing casually near the base of the catcher’s throat. “Yeah, but, we’re partners, remember?” he said in a whisper, smiling broadly. It might have been a whisper for Eijun, but Satoru heard it clearly, his stomach tying into knots as he processed the tone in Eijun’s voice – clear, and resilient admiration.
Partners…
The catcher froze for a second, his shoulders tightening at Eijun’s touch and for a moment Miyuki looked like he was going to laugh again, or maybe shove Eijun off of him, but instead he looked pleased, his eyes glittering and his lips lifting into a genuine smile. “Yeah, I remember. Partners.”
Watching the two walk away, Eijun still clinging to Miyuki, the third year with his arm laced casually around the pitcher’s waist, Satoru felt his throat go dry and his hands become numb. He unclenched his fingers, testing them in front of his face, watching the color return to his knuckles.
Partners
Rivals
Friends?
No, they weren’t quite friends. Satoru was Haruichi’s friend, and Eijun was Haruichi’s friend, but they weren’t friends. If anything, the time they spent together could fall right under the category of teammates. Rivals? Yes. He had managed to hold on to the ace number for over a year now, and while he respected his teammate’s ability and determination, he didn’t feel like his position was in jeopardy.
Partners. That is something that Satoru and Eijun were most certainly not. There wasn’t an unbreakable bond, no unyielding trust, and had Satoru been in Miyuki’s place just now, the last thing he would have felt comfortable doing was wrapping an arm around Eijun.
Not to say he wouldn’t have wanted to.
“Furuya-kun,” came a soft voice from behind him. A small, gentle hand settled itself on his shoulder and Satoru looked down, discouraged by the sad, sympathetic countenance his best friend wore so keenly on his face. “Let’s go to the baths, yeah?”
Haruichi’s soft, peach eyes said more than his words did and Satoru sighed, nodding his head. He grabbed his sports bag and followed Haruichi into the lockers, trying to think of something other than Miyuki’s arm around Eijun.
“Furuya-kun, I really think it might be a good idea to say something to him. If Eijun-kun doesn’t feel the same, then at least you tried.”
It was late by the time he and Haruichi had made it to the baths. Satoru had skipped dinner in order to practice with Miyuki and after a brief scolding from the kitchen staff, he managed to eat something, just barely finishing before the staff needed to lock up. Haruichi waited patiently with him, gently prodding him with knowing eyes; Satoru knew his friend well enough that he didn’t need to see past his bangs to know what Haruichi was thinking.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” he pushed gently, nudging Satoru with his much smaller shoulder.
Satoru said nothing, choosing instead to get up and rinse the soap from his body, letting the scalding water sear his back. He ran his fingers through his hair, enjoying the feel of the water falling down his face.
What’s the worst that could happen?
Normally, one would think the worst that could happen would be rejection. He would confess his feelings under a cool spring day, taking the time to enjoy the colors that would surely display themselves across Eijun’s features as he told the boy how he felt. Satoru would be as slow as he possibly could about the ordeal, painfully articulating how this came to be, only describing in detail so he could be unbearably close to Eijun for this one moment in time. No doubt, Eijun would struggle with his response, at first trying to convince him he didn’t feel this way, only then to become flustered and nervous, smiling embarrassingly while reaching to scratch his cheek. It was during Eijun’s response that Satoru would be able to get closer to the southpaw’s face, finally figuring out if Eijun’s nose was splattered with patches of freckles or if there were just so many of them that it looked that way. Then he would finally reject him, and even then, Satoru would savor the moment, watching Eijun’s heart seep with sympathy and understanding, a sight only visible through his bright, golden eyes, telling him with the utmost sincerity that while he couldn’t return his feelings, he was so happy to have earned them.
Satoru would believe those words. He believed every single thing that fell from that boy’s pretty, pink lips.
But that wasn’t the worst that could happen. In fact, that was probably the best thing that could happen because the idea of Eijun carrying the same weight of love that Satoru did for him was so farfetched, it couldn’t even be considered a reality.
Miyuki Kazuya. Now that would be the worst that could happen. Finding out that his suspicions regarding the duo had been right all along, that he had never had a chance in the world, because Eijun’s hero and partner was the one that he was in love with, the one that he would chase for as long as his body would carry him, the one that was capable of reducing their years long rivalry and sportsmanship to one crippling idea: he was never competing with me, he was competing for him.
Satoru groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly and shaking the hair from his face. He reached down to turn the shower off and walked out off of the tiled floor to the bath. Haruichi was already there, his arms slung over the side of the tub, smiling up at Satoru.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he muttered sternly, stepping into the tub and falling in hard enough to send waves of water lapping off the sides of it.
“Like what?” Haruichi asked innocently, turning around to rest his neck on the wall of the bath. Satoru caught a rare glimpse of Haruichi’s gaze and he snorted, splashing the pink haired basemen with enough water to soak his face. Haruichi returned the gesture, laughing when Satoru coughed, having inhaled some of the water.
“Furuya-kun, if there’s anything that this has taught me, it’s that you are a patient person. Miyuki-kun will graduate in just a few weeks. What’s stopping you then?”
Partners
Rivals
Friends
Watching Satoru lower his head into the water, Haruichi thought offhandedly that he had probably been ignored by the pitcher more times than anybody should ignore someone they call a friend.
∞
The day the upperclassman graduated was a sad day, even for Satoru. He thought he’d never see anybody sadder yet more proud than Haruichi, on the day his brother had graduated and left for college. Normally relatively reserved, he cried as shamelessly as Eijun did for Chris, letting warm tears fall down his face, staining his shirt and stuffing his nose. Today was harder.
He watched Rei Takashima stand up, completely unabashed and clapping loudly for Miyuki Kazuya as he collected his diploma, tears on her face much like those around her. She did nothing hide them, grinning happily while they slid down her cheeks. She had abandoned her normal suit for a soft colored sundress, her hair down and caressing her shoulders. She clapped from the moment his name was called all the way until he sat down, but she was far from alone. As soon as his hands shook the principal’s, the entire first string stood up, Satoru included, screaming “Captain! Captain!” and Miyuki blushed so hard that even he found it endearing.
Then it was Kuramochi, who looked like he was on the verge of crying himself, but then Eijun clapped his hands together, forming a speaker with his mouth and shouted at him, “I knew you could do it Kuramochi-Senpai!” and then Kuramochi whipped his head around so fast to glare at Sawamura and scowl that if everyone hadn’t laughed, Satoru would have been sure that the third year would have jumped off of the stage to clobber him.
Then it was Nori who looked embarrassed to even be there, and Zono who was doing a terrible job of trying not to cry, then Shirasu who was the only senior to make it across the stage without any interruptions until the coach cleared his throat, signaling the team to clap animatedly at their easily forgotten senpai.
The principal made a small speech, stating how proud he was of the graduating class, singling out the baseball players for their commitment to their education and the team, and wishing the best of luck to all of the third years in their future prospects. He began to wish everyone a great spring break, but his words were quickly shut out by the cheers and screams of the student body, the loudest coming from the baseball team, and even louder than that was Eijun, standing on his fold out chair, waving blue pompoms he borrowed from the managers up in the air, hollering for everyone to hear him.
Satoru watched carefully as Miyuki descended the stage, smirking at his fellow classmates. He and Kuramochi shared a quick hug, with the latter punching him in the arm as soon as it was done. Miyuki trailed the crowds, stopping to shake hands with Kataoka, blushing furiously as he received a very wet kiss on the cheek from Rei, high fiving the first years and then finally stopping in front of Eijun. He elbowed him in the hip, causing Eijun to shriek loudly. He feinted losing his balance and fell to the ground, throwing most of his weight onto Miyuki.
He felt himself run cold and Satoru discreetly inched closer to the two, pretending to be involved in a conversation between Haruichi and Shirasu.
“Stupid Senpai. You looked ridiculous up there,” Eijun mocked, and Satoru took a deep breath as the pitcher removed himself from Miyuki, placing both of his hands on his hips and leering at the catcher.
“I could see you crying from up there, Sawamura, if I were you I would watch who you try and make fun of.”
“Me?” Eijun scoffed, pressing an affronted hand to his chest. “Crying? As if I would cry for you.”
A heavy moment of silence drifted between the two and suddenly Satoru felt as if he shouldn’t be listening to this – the air perpetuated privacy and secrecy, a lapse in time that appeared to demand they be alone, he should definitely leave, but he himself knew he was too much of a masochist to walk away from it now so he tilted his head in their direction, listening as carefully as he could.
“I guess I’ll miss you a little bit,” Eijun muttered reluctantly, toying with the fabric at his sleeves.
“Oh yeah?” came the reply, Miyuki’s brow raised in interest. He looked as if he meant to push the pitcher further; Satoru silently begged him not to for Eijun looked as if he was about to break. His eyes were glossy with tears threatening to fall, his hands shaking avidly, alternating between gripping themselves and his shirt. His brow was scrunched up in emotion and Satoru wanted nothing more than to place a hand over his forehead, smoothing the wrinkles from his face and to hold him tight enough to make him forget his sadness.
But of course it was not him. Miyuki pulled him into a hug and Eijun sobbed, loud enough for Haruichi and Shirasu to look in their direction. Satoru wanted to look away, truly he wanted to find something else to stare at, but he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the embrace that was far too intimate for this crowd. Haruichi tugged on his sleeve and Satoru lowered his head out of habit, still gazing at Eijun.
“You look like you’re about to pass out, Furuya-kun. Stop worrying, he was the same way with Chris-Senpai.”
No, not even close
He knew Haruichi was trying to comfort him, but it almost felt worse, recalling graduation last year. Eijun had blubbered like a baby, clinging to Chris’s arm and crying into his shirt. Chris reciprocated of course – it was his kohai, his teammate, and as Eijun’s mentor it was nearly obligation to accept his affections, and he did so whole heartedly. He returned Eijun’s hugs, ruffled his hair, smiled fondly and told him he was going to be just fine without him. Everything that a Senpai should say to a lowerclassmen. It was an insult to Chris to compare this to him.
Miyuki’s fingers were fisted through Eijun’s hair and he held his head against his closely, whispering into the other’s ear. Satoru wasn’t sure if it was better or worse that he couldn’t see even the hint of a smile at the catcher’s lips, but when he looked a little further up he could see tears glistening in his eyes. Eijun wrapped his arms tightly around the other, hands firmly gripped around Miyuki’s ribcage, still sobbing into his neck, incoherently wailing loudly.
“Ssshhh,” was all Satoru could make out but it was at that moment that he had decided that he had quite enough. He brushed passed Haruichi, walking past Eijun and Miyuki, staring straight ahead when a hand reached out and held on to him tightly.
“Hey,” Miyuki said, breaking off his embrace with Eijun. His arm was still slung around his shoulder and Eijun had only adjusted enough to cry into his armpit. “Trying to leave without saying goodbye?”
Satoru stiffened, clenching his fist tightly. It wasn’t Miyuki’s fault Satoru was in love with Eijun. It probably wasn’t Miyuki’s fault that Eijun was in love with him. He was sure of that now.
“Goodbye Miyuki-Senpai. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me the past two years.” Satoru nodded curtly, bowing slightly at the head before turning around and heading back to his dorm. He heard Haruichi call after him, but dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
∞
When Eijun was made Captain, everyone was surprised except Satoru.
Bakamura? Captain?
Do you think Miyuki-Senpai actually recommended him or Coach just gave it to him?
I bet it was because he couldn’t make ace
The only thing he has going for him as Captain is his loudness
Most of these comments came from teammates who had known Sawamura for years, but none of them came from the first string. If you had to guess at why Eijun was made Captain then you just didn’t know him well enough. That in itself was your fault, because Eijun made himself easily known and approachable – it’s one of the main reasons he made such a good leader.
“Alright everybody! The summer training camp starts in two weeks! If any of you have any intention of dropping out of the club, it is in your best interest to do it before the camp! No use being that close to death if you’re not committed!” the third years roared in laughter while the second years hardly giggled, too traumatized from the last training camp to be able to joke about it. Satoru smiled slightly, enjoying hearing Eijun laugh with his team. The first years looked flustered, their heads tilted in confusion, and Satoru felt a brief stab of pity for those boys.
“Practice is officially over, but remember that the third field doesn’t close until I go and lock it up. Dismissed!” he yelled across the field and every first year and even some of the second years raised their hands in salute before dispersing, most headed towards the third field to practice more, others hitting the baths before they got too crowded. Satoru moved slowly, contemplating asking Okumura to catch for him, when a hand thumped him in the back. Eijun shoved himself in Satoru’s space, ignoring the well trained look of contempt that Satoru gave him, nudging him in the side.
“Want to go play some catch?” he asked excitedly, puppy eyes twinkling brightly at him.
“I guess,” Satoru replied unenthusiastically, watching Eijun jog to an open field.
It had been a few months since graduation and things were pretty much the same at Seido. There were new first years, a new first string, warmer temperatures and longer practices with the Summer Koshein around the corner – but bats still swung, pitches were still caught, and Eijun still ran the field every night before bed.
Haruichi had pushed and pushed Satoru until he had finally cracked, roughly grabbing him to somehow force Haruichi to understand that he was giving up, he was done, he couldn’t feel like this anymore, he couldn’t watch Eijun be in love with someone else, but all that had left his throat was a garbled mess of “I can’t,” and tears that he didn’t know were falling until Haruichi had gently reached up to wipe them from his face.
“I know,” he had whispered, petting Furuya softly on his head. “I know.”
How could you know?
How could Haruichi know what it was he felt when Satoru himself didn’t even understand? His chest ached longingly every time he saw Eijun, which was quite a lot since they both filled pivotal positions on the team. He couldn’t sleep, for every night he saw torturous fantasies of Eijun with Miyuki, his dreams filled with the same agony he walked with every day. He didn’t know why it seemed so hard to just place one foot in front of the other and move on, leave his feelings and his confusion behind him, and get on with his life. Surely though, he was reminded of why he could not do anything but stare wantonly, because Eijun’s smile filled his heart like the sun did the sky, and while he knew he hated the heat he also knew the world could not live without the sun. Sometime Satoru felt like he was just like the poles of the earth; farthest from the sun and bone chillingly cold, but there were a few hours in the day where the sun shone bright and shared it’s incandescence with those who needed it the most.
“Hey, Furuya,” Eijun said reflectively, turning around and backing up a few feet. He threw the baseball at Satoru and he reached high, catching it effortlessly.
“Hm?” he responded, tossing the ball back. Eijun’s features took on a nervous expression and he giggled, pausing to scratch his head.
“Man, it’ll take a while before I get used to all this captain crap. Miyuki said it would be hard, but man, the pressure, you know?”
Satoru flinched hearing Miyuki’s name but nodded, holding his arm up high for Eijun’s throw.
“Anyway, I kinda wanted to talk to you. You’ve been…really off your game lately. Since about graduation. A-and I told the coach to give you some space, you know, with the third years leaving, maybe you needed some time to adjust, but now with Koshein coming up…I kind of need you to get it together.”
The ball landed in his mitt with a resounding thud and Satoru stared at Eijun coldly. There was a time, a few years ago, that Eijun might have faltered from the intensity of Satoru’s aura but that time was long past. Eijun closed the distance between the two of them in a few short steps and thumped his mitt on Satoru’s chest, looking him in the eyes. There was also a time when Eijun wasn’t almost as tall as he, but apparently that was in the past as well.
“I’m not just your captain. I mean, I am, but I’m also your friend. You can tell me anything and I promise I’ll support you.”
Friend…
“Anything?” Satoru asked, his blood rushing to his head and warming his cheeks. Eijun smiled up at him, thumping his chest again for good measure.
“Anything.”
What’s the worst that could happen?
Now that the worst had already happened, what could happen now? Could he still be satisfied with confessing his love, knowing that Miyuki was in Eijun’s head?
I could make him forget…
Miyuki wasn’t here. He couldn’t help Eijun through the stress of being captain, of being the main relief pitcher, the only southpaw on the team. Satoru could, though. He could be an unyielding, colossal iceberg, refusing to melt or leave even under the fiercest of the sun’s rays. He would hold Eijun up when it appeared he would fall, be the sole reciprocate of those stupid, beautiful smiles. Maybe, it was worth a try…
“Don’t forget though, Furuya. I’m always waiting behind you. We’ve shared the mound with each other for years, but if I think you’re slipping, I’ll be ready. I will take it from you, ace number or not.”
Eijun’s eyes glowed with the intensity of his words, his lips curling into a smirk that Satoru knew he didn’t learn on his own.
“I’m fine, Sawamura. Nice pep talk.”
Friends
Rivals
Partners
They’d never be partners. They were hardly friends.
∞
“What the hell, Furuya!”
Satoru’s door opened with a slam and Eijun stormed in, anger peeling off of him in waves. Eijun’s face was scrunched up in frustration, his mouth pulled into a snarl, nearly growling at him. It was almost ironic how little often Eijun smiled at him anymore.
“Explain yourself. I’m serious. I have to go talk to Coach after this and if you don’t give me something, I don’t know what I can do to help you.”
“Eijun-kun, calm down, he’s just not himself right-“
Eijun slammed his fist on Satoru’s desk, cutting off Haruichi. “Stop Haruichi. Just stop. Actually, can I have a few minutes alone with him?”
Haruichi looked at Satoru for help but Satoru just nodded, resting his back on the bunk bed. His roommates had already scattered, having heard Eijun stomping down the hall a full five minutes before he showed up. He knew he had this coming. It was inevitable. Haruichi quietly closed the door, shooting one last look of sympathy towards Satoru before shutting it gently and leaving. Satoru prepared for the worst, getting ready to stick his fingers in ears to prevent his eardrums from shattering under Eijun’s yells but the boy just sighed, leaning heavily against the desk.
“This is it. This is your last chance. Tell me what’s wrong, or some dumb fuck first year, not even half as talented as we were, is going to take the ace number that we both fought nearly three years for.”
Satoru looked up at him, hating the look of pity in Eijun’s eyes. Satoru didn’t deserve anyone’s pity. He was a coward who couldn’t come to terms with how he felt and by the time he did, it was too late and there was nothing left to do.
Partners
“Stop staring off with that awful look in your eyes, damnit! You’re the ace, Furuya Satoru! Take responsibility for your team!”
Take responsibility, huh
He knew it wasn’t fair, but he wanted to say the same thing to Eijun.
“Look, I know I’m not as good of a captain as Yuuki-Senpai was, or even Miyuki, but I’m trying my best here!”
“Hey, how’s Miyuki-Senpai doing?” he asked daringly, standing up to tower over Eijun. He couldn’t do it as well as he used to, but he still maintained his height, staring down at Eijun’s soft, brown eyes.
“What? What the hell does Miyuki have to do with any of this?” he asked defiantly, baring is his teeth and knocking into him roughly with his chest. His eyes flashed dangerously; he kept his gaze firm, staring up at Satoru angrily with a vein protruding from his temple. Eijun backed up a few paces, resuming his stance on the desk. He huffed irritably, finally looking away from Satoru, releasing his fury in a few short breaths.
“You nearly threw a game today. Do you really think this is the best time to talk about Miyuki?” he asked incredulously, snatching a baseball from Satoru’s desk to throw it in the air. He wasn’t even looking at Satoru anymore, just tossing the ball callously up in the air and catching it softly, reflexively spreading his hand to let the ball fall into his palm once more. Satoru watched him for a moment, no longer feeling the anger that had so recently been pouring from Eijun. He was as calm as could be, as far as Eijun could be anyway, and he deflected Satoru’s question as easily as bad pitch.
“Do you like him?” Satoru whispered, not trusting the tone of his voice to speak any louder than a hushed murmur.
“Do I like Miyuki? Like…like-like? Love-like?” the surprise in his voice comforted Satoru minutely, but he kept his gaze to the ground, staring at his cleats at the edge of his room.
“Yeah.”
The laughter the fell from Eijun’s mouth was the most alluring sound that Satoru thought he had heard in his entire life; it came from the pit of Eijun’s stomach, gaining wind as it traveled through his chest and lungs and then was finally, exuberantly released with loudest of heckles that could have put Kuramochi to shame.
“Satoru,” he breathed, clutching his ribs tightly, holding on to the desk for support. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. I mean, hah, I don’t think you’ve told a joke in the three years that I’ve known you, but if it was all in anticipation for that one, well, fuck,” he laughed again, more breathily before finally calming down to level his gaze at the ace.
Satoru…
“Eijun,” he said, gaining confidence from the delicious peals of Eijun’s laughter. “Can I try something?”
The captain looked up in him surprised, blushing slightly at the tips of his ears upon hearing his first name. He recovered quickly however, standing straight and placing his hands on his hips, staring at Satoru sternly.
“Fine, but after this, you will tell me what’s going on.”
Friends
Rivals
Partners
“Yes. After this I will tell you what’s going on.”
Satoru put himself back into Eijun’s space effortlessly, easing his hand behind Eijun’s neck and lacing his fingers through his hair, gently tugging at it, reveling at how soft it was.
“Furuya,” Eijun started, confusion in his gaze, but Satoru wouldn’t let him continue, pressing his lips against Eijun’s, molding his mouth to the frame of his pretty, pliant lips. He gently flicked his tongue at the bow of Eijun’s lip and to his shock and wonder, Eijun parted his lips for him, easily sliding his tongue into Satoru’s mouth. He inhaled sharply, seeing stars at the back of his eyelids, but hungrily returned the gesture, exploring the interior of Eijun’s warm, wet mouth. Satoru could feel Eijun grin against his lips and he pulled away reluctantly, opening his eyes to a dazed, elated Eijun. His eyes were heavily lidded and the flush that heated his cheeks was so desirable Satoru found himself wanting to lick it from his face to enjoy watching it spread.
“What?” he mumbled, carefully watching Eijun’s eyes for any changes.
“Finally,” he replied, eyes flashing tauntingly.
“Sssh,” Satoru hushed him with another kiss and swallowed the giggles that left Eijun’s mouth.
OMAKE
“Say it again.”
“I will not, Furuya! It was an accident, I didn’t mean it, leave me alone!”
Eijun stormed off in front of him, slamming the door to his room, but Satoru stuck his foot out, effectively stopping the door. He walked into Eijun’s room, which was currently devoid of any roommates, and laughed when he saw his boyfriend crumpled up on the bed. Eijun was lying on his stomach, head stuffed underneath a pillow and kicking his legs childishly. He peaked out from under the pillow to see that Satoru had made it inside and scoffed, rolling his eyes and kicking harder at the bed.
“Get out! I don’t want to see you right now!”
Satoru sat on the edge of the bed, resting a hand on Eijun’s lower back and tried to gently pull the pillow from Eijun’s grip, but he refused, only holding it tighter and tensing under his touch.
“Will you come out please?” Satoru whispered, sliding his fingertips under Eijun’s shirt to caress his back. Eijun melted under the brush of his hand, sighing softly, but adamantly refused, shaking his head vehemently under the pillow.
“Can I join you under there then?”
No response.
That was enough for him. Satoru laid down next to Eijun, reluctantly taking his hand from Eijun’s back to lace it through his captain’s fingers, tucking his head under the pillow and eyeing Eijun carefully. The boy just stared back, pride and rebelliousness etched into his features, still just as strong as they were the first day Satoru met him.
“Say it again.”
“I won’t, you stupid monster.”
“Please.”
Eijun sighed dramatically, squeezing Satoru’s hand. He closed his eyes when he spoke, his face crimson from the tips of ears to the line of his jaw. Satoru leaned in closer, taking advantage of Eijun’s shielded eyes to smile happily, rubbing his nose against the other boys, grinning into his lips.
“I love you,” he spat reluctantly, unwilling even in love to concede a single loss. Satoru would make it very clear that Eijun had won this round from the very beginning, not ever once giving Satoru any choice in the matter.
“I love you too.”