Archive of Our Own ^beta

Miyuki Kazuya never cared about himself. No, not really. He had Mei for that.

For as long as he can remember, Mei was and always has been the one to carry his weight when his hands are full. They never bother to talk about it. That's just how they work; care for each other and pretend they don't. Mei doesn't tell him that he loves him. Mei gives him extra band-aids when Kazuya shows up with a new wound. Mei gives him an apple slice at lunch and Kazuya accepts it. Kazuya never had people give him an apple slice, or a whole fruit, or any food at all. Just Mei.

The point is this: Mei cared and he wasn't scared to show it, but Kazuya was.

Kazuya, even if he doesn't look like it, cares a lot. Showing how much he does is another subject, especially that he perfected the art of caring only in silence. It was what he was taught, after all. It was all he was taught. Kazuya learns this at a young age.

Outside of this, Mei was the one who would fill up the holes that he didn't know. Social etiquette? Apparently, he couldn't just tell people that they sucked. Friendship? Hanging out with kids your age was a thing he learned through Mei, and Kazuya never understood why he had to. He hated the other kids his age. He hated the kids older than him more because they always shoved him to the ground.

"You also tell your friends about your problems," 11-year-old Mei pouts, rotating the baseball between his fingers, and Kazuya is beside him, with glasses too big on his face and cap skewed abnormally on top of his head. "So come on, Kazuya, tell me!"

"Tell you what?"

"About your problems."

"Are we friends?" Mei pouts more at that and lets out an offended scoff. "Really? You ask this now? Of course, we are!"

And apparently they're friends. Mei was his first friend. Kazuya isn't a good friend. He wasn't taught how to be one like all the things he was supposed to learn at age 11. "I thought we're rivals."

"You can be friends and rivals, Kazuya."

"How?"

"Just how many questions are you going to ask?"

A lot, because Kazuya always spent his time questioning things. First off, how do you become a good friend? He's sure that that's not something that even Google can answer. Google was also something Mei taught him. Apparently it answers all of the questions in the world. It doesn't. He tried.

"So are you going to tell me your problem?"

"It's late. We should go home, Mei."

Second, is talking about problems normal? What counts as a problem? Kazuya thinks that in his 11 years of existence, he has never had any problem and he has all the problems in the world at the same time. Mei said that the upperclassmen pushing him until he had bruises was a problem but Kazuya never really cared. Mei also said that having no one to cook for him but himself was a problem, but again, Kazuya never really cared.

("Why is cooking for yourself such a big deal? It's a life skill."

"It's a life skill for adults. You're like 11."

"You just don't know how to cook."

"Hey!")

Mei also said that Kazuya not caring at all was a problem in itself. And, well, Miyuki Kazuya never really cared about himself. No, not really. He had Mei for that.

So, really, there was nothing to say to Mei that day he asked. Maybe there was a lot. Maybe he could have said I haven't eaten anything because all he remembered that day was feeling hungry. Maybe he should've said I have no problems because he really didn't have any.

(Maybe he should've said I wish I knew my mother or I wish I knew how to be vulnerable or I wish Google actually answered all my questions.)

Mei sighs and stands up anyway, walking home beside him and talking about this one pitch that he's sure that Kazuya will never hit. Mei gives him another apple slice before heading home. Kazuya doesn't know how he knows he hasn't eaten anything.

Third question, what do you do when your friend stops giving you apple slices?

"I'm going to Seido."

Mei looks at him like he's a bad friend. Maybe he still is. He thought he was doing a good job at this friendship thing now that they're 15, but maybe nostalgia is lying to him, because Mei also looked like he wasn't surprised. Like he saw this coming. He's not sure what to feel about that. Does this count as a problem?

"Why?"

"I have to face great opponents to improve, Mei. You're the perfect opponent to face."

"That's so like you, Kazuya."

Fourth question, what counts as something like him? Mei always liked pointing out the little things to him. This tanuki looks like you, Kazuya. Your eyebrows are always furrowed, Kazuya, relax.

I think your smile suits you better, Kazuya, so stop scowling!

The thing is no one at Seido thinks he's a tanuki. No one cares about his stupid eyebrows. He's just a catcher. A prodigy catcher. He's Miyuki Kazuya, a 1st-year brat who took Chris' starting position with ease. And Kazuya felt bad. He never felt bad at anything, but he did. And Mei wasn't there to fill up the holes like he usually does and no one to give him a pep talk about empathy.

Mei
u threatened him in ur mind that u're going to snatch his position from him and then feel bad when u actually did? lol
that's so like you

And honestly, what does that even mean, anyway? There goes his fifth question. What does it mean if your only friend knows you better than yourself? He didn't even know he looked like a tanuki. He didn't even know he liked the color purple until Mei pointed it out.

"Why are you giving me this?" He asks, looking at the purple shirt that looks like it's been worn a hundred times. The print at the center is fading (it says Capricorn but you can barely read it and it had this symbol on top that Kazuya doesn't recognize) and it looks like it hadn't been ironed at all.

"I was giving my old clothes away but I saved that for you 'cause it's purple." Mei smiles, sipping on his milkshake like Kazuya's supposed to thank him. He doesn't know if he should.

"I'm not even a Capricorn."

"So? It's purple."

"And?"

"Kazuya, are you kidding me? That's your favorite color."

"It is?" Kazuya scrunches his nose to push his falling glasses back, and Mei looks at him in horror.

"No way. Are you telling me you don't know your favorite color," Mei smacks his almost empty cup on the table and crosses his arms. "I’ve connected you with purple all my life."

Kazuya's chest feels funny, so he laughs it off in the hopes of it going away. "I guess it is."

And then they didn't see each other after that, because Inajitsu lost that year, when Mei was pitching and he ended the third years' summer because he was being stubborn. Mei doesn't answer his texts and Kazuya rarely texts first. Kazuya leaves him alone, because that's what he was taught on how to show that he cares. You leave him alone until he stands up on his own.

It doesn't mean that he doesn't miss him. Maybe this counts as a problem, but what does Kazuya know?

(Sixth question, what do you do when you miss your friend who you think is not your friend anymore? He deletes that before he can even press enter in the search tab.)

Kazuya
You know, you can tell me about problems
That's what you said to me back then

Mei
and then you never did

Mei tells him about the problem, anyway. It's always been like this. Mei shows him his scars and will pretend Kazuya didn't have his, in return. Maybe it's a little bit unfair, on Mei's side, but Kazuya has never been fair. Mei still talks to him, despite it all.

"We have a new pitcher," Kazuya says on the phone. It's been almost a year since he heard Mei's voice up close, in his ear, something personal. He forces to think that the funny feeling on his chest was something all 16 year olds feel. He doesn't want to learn what it is, and this is the question he hopes remains unanswered. "Two, actually."

"So? I'll crush them all anyway."

Kazuya smiles, "The other one is a southpaw like you."

"I'm better."

Maybe, he wants to say. But somehow, being honest felt like a chore. He doesn't know when he started feeling like that. As far as he knows, being honest was a Miyuki Kazuya thing. But then again, he doesn't really know what other Miyuki Kazuya things are there. Maybe Mei knows. Maybe this time, Google knows.

"What a mature upperclassman you are." Kazuya teases instead, looking up at the night sky with his bat placed on his shoulder. He can hear his loud team from the cafeteria. "How are things in your end?"

"I'm still the starting pitcher, somehow." He hears Mei with something he has never heard from him before; doubt. "Honestly, I—”

“Don’t deserve it?”

He hears Mei laugh with no humor in his voice. Another length of silence. “Geez, Kazuya, you can’t just read my mind like that.”

“You read my mind all the time.” He murmurs, thinking about all the times Mei has said what he was feeling before he could even say it, not like Kazuya would ever talk about his feelings. Mei always knew and he didn’t have to.

“Do I? Maybe you’re just easy to read.”

“Am I?”

A pause, and Kazuya would’ve thought Mei hanged up on him if it weren’t for the slow breathing that’s also calming down his nerves. “No,” Kazuya breathes through his nose. “Not at all.”

“I never know what to expect from you, Kazuya. I guess that’s what I like about you.”

Seventh, and probably the biggest question that Kazuya would ever ask, what the hell did he mean by that?

It wasn’t even the first time Mei has said something similar, but somehow it drove Kazuya to confusion, with their semi-friendship and maybe about his identity, like he doesn’t have enough identity crisis to think about. It doesn’t help that other people are repeating it. I understand why Mei likes you, Carlos said. I don’t see what Mei sees in you for him to like you, Shirakawa said. And he wishes everyone would just shut up because Mei doesn’t like him. There’s just no way. Mei is Mei and is destined for great things. Kazuya isn’t a great thing.

It even proved itself when Seido lost to him and Inajitsu went to nationals. Mei hasn’t talked to him since. Kazuya pretends he’s not affected by Mei, like he has for the past 6 years. He tries not to text him a you did well after Inajitsu almost won nationals because it has been three months since their last conversation on the phone. Sometimes he would see Mei online but he knows it’s not for him. He tries to eat his disappointment down and it tastes rotten.

“Yuki has recommended you as captain.”

And really, he doesn’t think he wants to hear more about terrible decisions, but here it is anyway. “Huh?”

“Kuramochi and Maezono also agreed.”

He blinks, once, twice. I can’t do it. “Okay.”

“You’ll accept it?” The coach stares him down, and if this was two years ago, he would’ve looked away.

“Yes,” Kazuya cracks his knuckles in nervousness. “Although I’m sure I’m not the best person to take this position, I’m honored.”

“Miyuki,” The coach stands up, and his eyebrows are furrowed the same way as Kazuya’s. “The other ones recommended you because you’re the best choice as captain. I also personally think you're the best fit for this role. Remember that.”

But I’m not, he says in his head. I’m just a catcher who doesn’t know anything else other than being one.

“Okay.”

Kazuya
I’m a captain now
Just thought I’d let you know

Mei
you don’t talk to me for months and you come here to brag

Kazuya
Wasn’t bragging
I would only be bragging about things I’m good at

He considers actually opening Google and searching How to be a good baseball captain out of desperation and a little bit of anxiety, but Google has disappointed him before, and he doesn’t think he can handle more disappointment than what he’s carrying now.

“You’re selling yourself short.” Kuramochi says one day, and he doesn’t even ask how he knew. If someone knows him better than himself and Mei, it would be Kuramochi.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Kuramochi turns his back on him with his hands in his pocket, and he doesn’t have to face Kazuya to know that he’s scowling. “You know you don’t have to carry all the burden alone, right?”

How else would Kazuya handle it but carry the baggage by himself? It’s what he was taught, after all. It’s what he was good at.

“I know.” He says, anyway. He says it to convince Kuramochi, and maybe himself, as an extension, that he does know about it.

“So stop taking all the responsibility.” Kuramochi looks back at him once, and if the lights at the hallway of their rooms are a little brighter, he would’ve seen there was worry in his eyes. “You got a whole team you can depend on.”

The unspoken words were there, I’m here, Kuramochi says in Kazuya’s mind. But maybe he would call him stupid in the end because that’s just how he is.

“I know.” He says, again, with a smile on his face this time.

If Kazuya has a list of things that he should know but doesn’t, ‘carrying your burden alone is a bad thing’ is on top of it. Next to How to be a good captain and How to be a good friend and Vulnerability is okay. He’s sure there are a lot more, but his brain can only store so many things he’d rather not think about.

“Cap!” Sawamura shouts, as usual. “Catch for me!” And Furuya is behind him and he doesn’t even need to hear what he’s also about to say. Right now, he’d rather think about what he’s good at instead of what he’s not; being a catcher.

Mei
can we go to our usual spot rn or are u busy being a captain

And being only one chat away with Mei, apparently.

Kazuya
What, gonna confess your love to me

Mei
asshole
forget it

Usual spot being their old worn-out bench looking out to an old worn-out baseball field, where they used to play catch as kids and eat lunches together. The sun is almost gone, and the only light source is a weak lamp post and Mei's blue eyes. Kazuya tries not to stare, like he has for the past 7 years.

"Not even going to congratulate me for going to koshien, huh?" Mei pouts, crossing his arms for dramatic effect. "You really haven't changed one bit."

"What, still charming?"

"Still annoying." There is a space between them, and Kazuya tries not to think if their thighs used to touch all those years ago, sitting on the same bench. He tries not to think just how farther the space would be some years from now, if they would ever sit on this bench again, if there would be a next time. "Still a bad friend."

"Then why are you still friends with me if you hate it so much?" Kazuya buries his hands in the pockets of his jacket, staring at the orange sun that's barely visible. He hears Mei crack his knuckles, a nervous habit.

"You're not going to get rid of me, Kazuya. Even if you want to."

I'm relieved, he says in his mind. "Bummer." He says with his mouth. He earns a slap across his arm and Kazuya laughs while saying ouch, and it feels like they're 11 years old again, going home from playing catch and Mei talking about how he'll beat Kazuya for sure.

"Would you, though?" Mei speaks, voice softer. "Want to get rid of me?"

"Maybe when we reach 25."

"You—" Mei looks like he wants to say something more, but instead gives up and huffs again.

"I'm kidding, Mei."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Who'd eat your apple slices once we're 26?"

Mei looks at him again, this time with wide eyes instead of glaring ones, and then he just starts laughing. Hard. Until there are tears at the corner of his eyes. Kazuya can't help but laugh too, all while staring at Mei.

"What the hell! Why do you remember that? And I eat my apples now, thank you very much."

"I thought you just liked feeding me."

"Why would I? You always had better lunches than me." Mei stops clutching his stomach and wipes the tears at the corner of his eyes.

"That's because I cook them."

"Which isn't normal, by the way. Your father should've—"

"What's normal then? Mommy packing your rabbit-shaped rice with cat-shaped vegetables and kissing your forehead goodbye?" He tries to stop what Mei was going to say, which he's sure he's heard countless times.

"For a kid, yes?" Mei turns serious again, turning his body so he's facing him fully. "You really have a distorted view of what's normal and what's not."

This time, Kazuya laughs. "I'm weird, huh?"

"Not charming at all."

"Please. Do insult me more."

"You're mean," Mei starts, his blue eyes still glaring at Kazuya's, but somehow he knows there's no bite. "Honest with everything but to yourself, you.. you act so tough even though there are times when you shouldn't. You're immature. You reply late. You never talk to me first."

Kazuya hums, with a slight smile on his face, turning his body as well to fully look at Mei. And really look at him. There's a small eyelash sitting on his cheek. His button nose is as cute as he remembers. His eyes are unchanging, still shining and holding big dreams he knows Mei is capable of achieving soon enough.

"You never say what you feel. You never talk about your problems. You don't cry. You think crying makes you weak so you don't do it. You.." Mei gulps, and Kazuya doesn't know when their faces started getting closer. The eyelash on Mei's cheek is clearer now. His cheeks are turning red.

"You drive me crazy." Mei practically breathes out, and Kazuya snaps into his senses and pulls his face away, and he doesn't miss the way Mei's eyes glimpse with something like hurt. He's staring at Kazuya again, and he doesn't have it in him to stare back anymore.

"You're a coward, Kazuya."

Maybe he deserves not being spoken to by Mei for the next few weeks. It's okay. They'll be okay. Were they ever okay? Delete delete delete. No use in searching for answers of questions he's been asking for years.

Instead, he tries to put his heart out to its original owner; baseball.

He accidentally bats the ball right back into the pitcher in a practice game. Kuramochi and Sawamura laugh. It's not as funny as it is when he keeps on making mistakes after.

"Is there something wrong, Miyuki? You seem out of it lately."

He guesses it's true that nothing escapes Nabe's eyes, may it be for baseball or Miyuki's teenage crisis. He forces out an awkward laugh. "I'm just not getting enough sleep."

Nabe hums, still staring at the television playing the tape of their last practice game. Miyuki grimaces when it shows the inning where he kept on making mistakes. "That's not like you, at all."

"Not sleeping?"

"Making mistakes continuously," Nabe closes the journal he was holding, then moving his body to fully face Miyuki. "Then not correcting them after."

"Geez, Nabe. Can't a guy have a bad day?"

"A bad day or a bad month?"

Miyuki closes his mouth at that, his eyebrows furrowing on their own. He doesn't like how easy Nabe reads him. He's not supposed to be easy to read, at least he thinks so.

"Sorry if it looks like I'm prying with your private business but," Nabe smiles genuinely, and Miyuki doesn't know why he keeps on feeling guilty when someone is genuinely nice to him. "You can talk to me, if you want. Like a friend."

"I don't know how."

"You don't know how to talk about it?"

"I don't know anything at all, Nabe," Miyuki hesitates, because talking about his feelings feels so foreign, like he's a toddler walking its first steps. "I don't know how I feel. I don't know why I'm feeling it. I don't know how to say it to you because I don't know how to be a friend."

Nabe stares at him like he's waiting for him to continue, and Miyuki's skin itches. He feels as if he said too much and said so little at the same time, but he tries to continue anyway.

"Say, Nabe.. do you think I would make a good captain?"

"You wouldn't be voted as captain if you were bad at it."

"Do you think I would make a good friend?"

Does your heart hurt thinking about how much time has passed, and that only friend that you know doesn't talk to you as much? Do you think it was my fault?

"I don't think there's such a thing as a good and bad friend. Friendship is a complex thing, you know?" Nabe smiles, and Miyuki realizes this is actually the first time in his life that someone is giving him genuine advice, and he feels like a lost puppy. Miyuki Kazuya never feels lost. He finds his own path on his own without any help.

He's always been so proud of being independent, but now he's slowly realizing that maybe he became independent too young. Now he's about to turn seventeen and clueless about the world he used to dream of taking over.

He always knew that the world is big, but he never realized just how small he was.

"I apologize, Nabe." Miyuki stands up, picking up his bat from the corner and opening the door. The night is still young. He thinks he can still practice, just a little bit more, and maybe get rid of the annoying voices in his head. "You should get some sleep."

Miyuki closes the door, and Nabe stares at it for a good minute.

"The first time I hear him apologize and there's nothing he should even apologize about. You're so weird, captain."

Kazuya
Don't be a stranger mei

Mei
i don't think i can ever be

Miyuki thinks he's better off not caring about himself again. Because now he cares so much, and it's driving him crazy.

He guesses his very late journey of self-discovery at seventeen years old did give him some improvement, but it also means he's forced to accept his vulnerability. And god, he's really trying not to be an edgy teenager but unlearning your coping mechanism to brush things off made him very emotional lately.

These days, he's feeling lonely. He thinks he's been carrying this loneliness for seventeen years. He doesn't know where to put them down now.

"Good luck with spring koshien." There is a slight huff in Mei's voice, and Kazuya knows he's trying his hardest to act nonchalant about it. He doesn't comment on it, like how they don't comment on what happened the past month, and how they don't comment on the very obvious tension in the air.

"You better beat Masamune. For me." Mei pouts, stirring his straw profusely around the almost empty cup, the ice cubes making a loud sound. Kazuya laughs slightly. "And why for you?"

"Because," Mei pauses and pouts even more, if that was possible. "Because I lost to him in the summer. So when you beat him, and I beat you again next summer, which will happen, it means I'm better than him, which I am."

Kazuya laughs again, louder this time. "Are you a child?"

"Yes?"

Kazuya laughs again, and whatever tension they had dispersed from the air, because there is now a smile on Mei's lips that he's trying hard not to show, and he rolls his eyes for more dramatic effect.

There is a slight feeling of envy in Kazuya's chest, looking at Mei like this. Mei is so carefree, able to admit his most vulnerable parts and use them as his strength, and although he knows he beats himself up a lot over a single mistake behind closed doors, he always gets back up on his own, and then he's back on the mound and pitching his all like nothing ever happened. He admires Mei for this. He admires Mei for a lot of things.

"Kazuya, are you okay?"

"Huh?" His hands sweat at the thought of being caught staring, but Mei only frowns.

"I don't know. You look so lonely these days."

Kazuya cannot believe that Narumiya Mei can still read him like an open book despite not talking to each other for months. It makes him want to smile, all of a sudden, so he does.

"Why would I be lonely? You're here."

Mei stops sipping from his straw. There is a faint blush on his cheeks again, and then he groans. "You know that's not what I – can you think about your words before saying them?!"

Kazuya snickers, his signature grin present on his face. "What are you so shy for?"

"Ugh. Bastard doesn't even know what he's doing to me." Mei whispers before glaring at his drink like it personally offended him with his trademark pout.

"What?"

"Nothing! You still didn't answer my question!"

"What question?"

Mei stomps his empty drink on the table and sighs. "I asked if you were okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Kazuya genuinely asks, because it's true. There's no reason for him to be lonely. He's the captain of a baseball team going to koshien. He knows he's not unloved. He has teammates. He has a father. He doesn't talk to any of them but that's not important.

Mei stares at him for a good minute, then he sighs.

"Sometimes I wish I can pull you out from whatever place you're trying to hide, Kazuya. You're too bright to just be some shadow."

"Huh?"

"I'm saying that you don't see yourself the way I see you. And it makes me sad." Mei smiles a little, and there's a familiar yet unwelcome clench on Kazuya's chest. "I wish you know that people don't admire you for nothing."

"I don't need them admiring me."

"And yet you look lonely."

Kazuya
New first year roommate hates me
It's hilarious
I think it's cause he's also a catcher

Mei
i can't relate
everybody loves me

Kazuya
That's true

"Have you ever thought of going pro, Furuya?"

Furuya blinks, looking a little sleepy. Not an uncommon sight. "Yes. I want to be the best in Japan."

Miyuki smiles, feeling a little proud. It's surreal to think that it's not entirely impossible. He feels blessed to be the one catching for someone with a dream as big as that.

Miyuki doesn't know what his dream is. He wants to play baseball. He wants to repay his father for letting him play baseball. That's all. He's content with it. He doesn't want to start overthinking about why he doesn't dream like the rest of his teammates.

"The best pitcher in Japan, huh? I guess that's not impossible."

"Do you think I can beat Narumiya-san?"

Miyuki is taken aback by the sudden mention of Mei, but still, he smiles. "Mei is selfish. He always has been. He wouldn't be anything without it, but that's what makes him the best of all."

"So if you have the guts to be selfish, then maybe you can."

Furuya is silent for a while. The cafeteria is far away, but both of them can clearly hear Sawamura's yelling over something like always. It's a comforting type of noise.

"Miyuki-senpai, you really admire Narumiya-san."

Miyuki stops swinging his bat. Furuya's completely serious voice almost makes him want to laugh, so he chuckles.

You really admire Narumiya-san.

"Hm. Well, who doesn't? He's my generation's best pitcher, after all."

He was also my best friend. Miyuki almost says, but holds his tongue. I think he was.

“Eijun doesn’t.”

Miyuki laughs loudly at that. Furuya doesn’t notice the fond smile on his captain’s face.

“Since when did you call Sawamura by his first name?”

Furuya blinks, his eyes gazing to the cafeteria below them, where both of them can hear very clearly Sawamura’s shouting voice. Something about him shouting at Kuramochi for drawing on his back with a bold marker.

“I don’t know. It just feels right,” Furuya mumbles before looking back at Miyuki with curious eyes. “It’s the same way Narumiya-san calls you by your first name. You two are very close.”

Something in Miyuki’s chest aches, making his grip on his bat a little bit tighter than usual.

“Yeah, I think we were.”

Kazuya
I miss you

Mei
shouldn't it be i missED you
we literally just saw each other

Kazuya
I miss you mei

Miyuki doesn't have the time to think how lonely it gets in his apartment in Nagoya. It goes like this: he wakes up, goes to practice, goes home and cooks dinner, then he goes to sleep. A perfect routine for a calculating 23-year-old professional baseball player.

He doesn't like it when his routine gets interrupted, but it just so happens that a phone call makes its way into his routine just before going to bed.

It would've been an unwelcome call if only it wasn't from Mei.

"Mei?"

The other line is loud, a complete contrast from Miyuki's completely silent bedroom. He winces at the sudden noise in his ear, but he doesn't fully put his phone away from it. After a few seconds of silence, Kazuya is convinced that Mei probably pressed the call accidentally, but then he hears a sob.

"Kazuya."

Miyuki doesn't know why he immediately stands up, looking at his coat behind his door, as if Mei isn't in Tokyo and he's two hours away from him, but he does anyway. "What's up?"

"I.." Mei sobs again, and Kazuya clenches his fist in instinct. He has heard Mei cry for only thrice in his life, albeit him being a crybaby. He doesn't like it when he cries. It doesn't suit him at all, to be sad enough to cry.

He waits again, and then Mei lets out a loud sigh after a minute. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."

The call suddenly ends. There is a dreadful feeling in Miyuki's stomach. Most importantly, his chest feels like it's being clenched by an unknown force. He doesn't know what it is but it's not unfamiliar.

He's on a train on his way to Tokyo at 4 in the morning. There are 5 delivered text messages from him to Mei with no replies. There's a scheduled practice that he's supposed to attend, but he said there's an emergency. Miyuki doesn't know when Mei counted as an emergency, but there are a lot of questions in Miyuki's life that remain unanswered.

But if there's something he does know is that he saw this kind of life when he was sixteen, that at twenty-three, he would board a train to Tokyo because Mei called.

He had to silently pray that Carlos did not change his number, because he just learned that he actually doesn't know where Mei is staying. He knows it's somewhere around Shinjuku, since that's where the Swallows are based, but he has limited time to go around Shinjuku to find a single apartment. He lets out a sigh of relief when Carlos responds to his text with Mei's full address, and he doesn't know why his heart clenches with the way Carlos says he hasn't heard from Miyuki in ages. Miyuki is a bad texter. Miyuki is a bad friend, if Carlos counts him as one, but that's not news.

At 8 in the morning, he's standing in front of a luxurious apartment. He did not expect anything less for Mei. He did not get an ounce of sleep in the train, but his adrenaline and a cup of coffee were enough to give him the strength to ring the doorbell.

No one is answering. Miyuki realizes this is a dumb move, to board a train with no sleep from Nagoya to Tokyo in the middle of December. His coat is barely keeping him warm. So much for being the calculated catcher. He doesn't even know where to stay for the night.

He pressed the doorbell again, clenching and unclenching his fist multiple times to try to calm his nerves down. He debates going back home when the door opens.

"Mei." He breathes out, both with concern and relief. He doesn't realize he lets go of his bag instinctively, dropping it on the floor with how relieved he was, seeing Mei in front of him.

"Kazuya..?" Mei looks sick, but he's quick to run at the gate to open it, and then they're hugging like something or someone will separate them by force. Mei buries his face in Kazuya's neck, and Kazuya's wrapping his arms around his waist.

Miyuki has never been hugged by someone like this. But if he ever dreamed of it when he was younger, he somehow knows it would be Mei doing it. It feels good to be right.

"What were you thinking, worrying me like that?" He sighs. Mei feels warm around him, like he always does.

"Huh?"

"Last night. You called me."

Mei pulls away, looking up at him with a puzzled look. "I was drunk."

"I figured," Miyuki says. It doesn't stop the pain swelling in his chest. He places the back of his hand on Mei's forehead to check for a fever. "How are you feeling?"

"Kazuya, why are you here?" Mei looks out of it, and like he's only realizing that Kazuya is in front of him, staring at him like he's not real.

"I told you.." Kazuya drops his hand from Mei's forehead. "You called."

Mei blinks. The air breeze that kisses Kazuya's cheeks is cold, but Mei is warm enough for him to care.

"Kazuya. I asked why you're here."

For a minute, there was only silence. Mei looks at him expectantly. He doesn't know what he wants him to answer. Kazuya doesn't know the answer.

"Were you worried?"

"Yes."

"Carlos was also worried," Mei smiles a little, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "But he's still in Osaka."

They stay silent once more. Mei looks like he's about to cry again. "Kazuya, if you don't know what you want from me, please just don't show up."

What does he want? Kazuya is still silent. How does Mei expect him to answer a question he's been asking himself for years?

Mei covers his face in frustration and turns his back away from him, as if to walk away. And then suddenly, the chest pains he's been feeling since he was eleven is back. There's a fundamental – almost violent sudden neediness in his heart that shouts.

I want Mei. I want to be with Mei. I've been wanting Mei for the longest time.

Kazuya holds on to Mei's wrist and it burns. It feels like he's about to puke his heart out from the way it's beating loudly, and he suddenly can't find his voice. For a moment, he doesn't know what to say, but he knows what he wants. At last, he knows what he wants.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

Mei looks back at him with teary eyes with his mouth agape, and then he's crashing into him like a long lost lover, kissing Kazuya with so much passion that fits so much with Narumiya Mei. The kiss is messy and overwhelming, but Kazuya wouldn't have it any other way, because god forbid Mei does anything less than this.

Miyuki Kazuya is nothing while Narumiya Mei is everything, this is just another fact in the universe.

"You fucking asshole –" Mei is fully sobbing now, punching Kazuya's chest like he wasn't kissing his mouth seconds ago. "I don't wait, Kazuya. People wait for me. And yet.. and yet somehow you're always the one I have to make exceptions for. I hate you. I hate you so much."

Kazuya is just standing there, taking in whatever Mei has to say and offer. The punches don't hurt, but still, his chest aches.

"I don't know what's it with you that I just can't let go of." Mei sniffs, and he's now resting his forehead on top of Kazuya's shoulder. The sobbing doesn't stop. "But for the longest time since I met you, I knew you're who I wanted. I knew I would regret it."

"I'm sorry." He says in what he hopes is a brave voice. He unfortunately sounds like a terrified boy who has never known that love is a feeling. For the longest time, he just thought of love as something he sees. Of seeing blonde hair and blue eyes. He didn't think of it as a feeling because he wasn't good with handling them. He's still not. If he was, they would've done this years ago.

"Don't say sorry," Mei looks up at him. "Because for years I already kept on forgiving you even if you didn't say it."

Kazuya wipes his tears away with his thumb, and Mei shivers. "Let me make it up to you, Mei."

"You'll have to make up for lost time forever. You're going to be stuck with me."

"Aren't I already?" Kazuya smiles, brushing a strand of Mei's hair away from his face. "I think I've been stuck with you forever."

Catching for Mei should be a different profession on its own with how high maintenance he can get, but Kazuya wouldn't trade it for the world.

It's the last inning, if they're fortunate. Even how many times Kazuya squats in front of the mound, with so many cameras and lights that are blinding him, he will never get used to it. He's just not born for it, but it's a small sacrifice if he means he gets to see Mei smiling like this, for the crowd and for the whole world. Mei who's born for great things. Kazuya is now one of those great things.

"One last out and the Tokyo Swallows win this game. How would Miyu– Narumiya Kazuya call for a pitch, I wonder?" He hears the announcer say, it makes him laugh that they keep on getting his surname wrong even after all this time.

It's him who took Mei's surname. Of course. Mei said the name Narumiya should become a household name in baseball because of course he would. Kazuya had no objections after that.

Mei looks at him intensely, waiting for a call. Kazuya smiles and moves on his feet. A changeup. End this game with a bang like how he wants it.

His pitcher touches his necklace with their ring on it first before trying to get the momentum of his pitch. Kazuya doesn't hear anything but the loud sound of the baseball hitting his mitt after that, and then everyone's cheering when the umpire shouts that it's a strike.

Kazuya is quick on his feet to remove his head gear, because Mei is running into him, as well as their other teammates, like always.

"Kazuya!" Mei still calls for him the same way when they were eleven at twenty-nine years old. Kazuya thinks he will never get tired of it.

"Mei."

"You called for my changeup! I'm so happy!"

"That's what you're happy about? Not by winning?" Kazuya laughs. He's still carrying Mei up, and he keeps him up for a longer time because he knows Mei loves the attention.

"I thought you were going to end it with a simple pitch."

"That's not befitting for you."

Mei looks like he wants to say more, but the reporters are already here, trying to pull him away for an interview. His teammates also give him a celebratory hug after putting him down.

He sees Mei clutching his ring necklace again while talking to a reporter. He notices that it became one of his habits, like he's always making sure that it's still there. He wants to say that he's not going anywhere.

Mei is suddenly looking back at him with a smile that can take on the world. Kazuya smiles back. They still don't say they love each other a lot of times, but in moments like this Kazuya feels it.

At home, where they're shunned away from the blinding lights of the public, Mei manages to still shine in Kazuya's eyes. He's clinging onto him with a wine glass on his left hand, very obvious that he had too much to drink for a celebration.

"Okay, that's the last one, alright?" Kazuya whispers. It's just the two of them, standing at the kitchen with just the one small dim light illuminating them both. Mei giggles.

"I'm not drunk."

"You're tipsy."

"I'm tipsy." Mei agrees. Kazuya doesn't know why he laughs but he does.

"Yes you are."

"You know, Kazuya.. earlier that reporter asked me what it's like being married to my catcher."

Kazuya blinks. Mei is still clinging onto him like always, and he's looking up at him with unfocused eyes. He smells like wine.

"I didn't know what to say so I looked at you. Then I said I'm living the dream."

"You dreamed of marrying your catcher?"

"Marrying you, idiot. Ugh, you're always ruining the romantic mood!" Mei pouts but he giggles right after. "And then the reporter kind of squealed. I think she's a fan of ours."

"Huh. That's kind of weird."

"Kazuya! Don't be mean to your fans." Mei is obviously sleepy with how he's prolonging his words, and Kazuya decides to get the wine glass away from him.

"I'm not. I just don't get asking personal questions like that."

"I'm a celebrity, it's normal."

Kazuya smiles, brushing Mei's hair as he's hugging him from the front. "My beloved celebrity."

Mei hums, looking up at him with a smile. They kiss for a while, slowly while taking their time. Kazuya pulls away when he feels Mei's hands slip through his shirt and laughs. "Mei, not in my damn kitchen."

"Your kitchen?! It's ours!"

"It's mine. You don't cook."

"I make coffee sometimes!"

"I make your coffee. You try to make one and end up throwing it to the sink."

Mei pouts again and stubbornly buries his head on Kazuya's neck. "I can't get the taste right, it's always too sweet when I make it."

"But I thought you like it sweet?"

"No, I like it bitter." Mei smiles like he's trying not to laugh while looking up at his catcher, tipsily poking his cheeks. "And annoying and mean but caring and gentle."

It's hard for Kazuya not to blush and smile after that.