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Sawamura Eijun is what many would call... loud. He simply doesn't understand the concept of shutting up. Miyuki thinks it must be a miracle how he hasn't gone deaf from Sawamura's constant screaming. He's not lying when he says he misses the times he could go to baseball practice in peace.
Today, Miyuki is not woken up by his bratty little underclassman, but rather the sound of his phone's alarm. He pulls his eye mask over the top of his head, feeling a bit groggy. The alarm continues to ring, signaling a sound from his roommate on the other bunk. Miyuki turned over slowly, shuffling his hand through his blanket to feel for his phone. He finds it, takes a good, squinted look at it, and rolls back over. 5:00 AM. He wishes he could sleep in.
Miyuki pulls himself out of bed and heads out the room to get ready. He looks up at the sky and sighs because the sun hasn't even risen yet.
Cold water hits his face as he stares back at his reflection in the mirror of the Seidou communal bathroom. Water drips from the tips of his bangs and he quickly shakes them off. He grabs a towel hanging nearby to dry his face when he hears the bathroom door kick open, the sound of chatter following. There stands Kuramochi, his hair still a ridiculous shade of green, but he's with someone else. They both make a split second of eye contact before--
"MIYUKI KAZUYA!!"
Miyuki covers his ears.
The younger boy skips over and flashes a large smile Miyuki's way.
"I was just talking about you!"
Miyuki lowers his hands and turns around to place the towel back on its rack.
"Oh?" Miyuki says, reaching for his cup and toothbrush. "What about me?"
"Well, you see! Last night I had a dre--"
Miyuki turns to look at him with a curious look on his face.
"Oh. Actually... never mind! Forget I said anything! I need to use the toilet if you'll excuse me!!"
Miyuki watches as Sawamura makes a dash past him, shutting the stall door of the bathroom behind him with a loud bang. Miyuki looks over at Kuramochi with a confused look, before Kuramochi shrugs and walks over to one of the sinks.
"Um, what was that all about?" Miyuki asks with his arms crossed but still shooting his thumb in the direction of Sawamura.
"Bakamura apparently had a dream about you last night," Kuramochi responds, a bit muffled by the foam of the toothpaste.
A dream? Miyuki thinks, About me?
Kuramochi suddenly makes a disgusted expression. "Wipe that damn smirk off your face before I do it for you."
Miyuki laughs, then shakes his head. "I just think it's funny. So, what was it about?"
Kuramochi takes in a mouthful of water and gargles, before spitting it out. "Something about you coming to him and asking if you could catch his pitches."
There’s a pause, then an exchange of looks between the two. Miyuki finally darts his eyes to the ground.
"Seriously? Like I would ever do that." Miyuki scoffs.
"Yeah, I hope you never do because we would never hear the end of it. I wonder if that idiot ever thinks about anything other than baseball."
Miyuki chuckles at the comment, because he does wonder the same thing. Miyuki has seen Sawamura read the occasional shoujo manga when they've hung out in his room but what else does Sawamura like? What's he like out of practice, during class? Probably still loud as ever.
The thought seems to linger on Miyuki’s mind a bit longer than it should. Would it be strange to ask Sawamura about things other than baseball? Knowing him, Sawamura would probably think he’s up to no good to be asking those kinds of things.
The door to the toilet suddenly swings open, the sound of water flushing, and Sawamura finally waddles out, shuffling to pull his pants up all the way.
Miyuki takes a step towards him and wraps his arm around Sawamura's shoulder.
"Sawamura~" Miyuki sings with a mischievous smile.
"W-What is it?!" Sawamura exclaims in a concerned tone.
"Did you have a good sleep last night? You must have been overjoyed dreaming about me begging to catch all your pitches, hm?"
Sawamura goes stiff and his eyes go all cat-like.
"Wha- How did- What are you talking about?!" Sawamura shouts, his face flushed red.
His reactions seriously never get old. "I'm flattered, Sawamura, really! I mean, do you love me catching your pitches that badly?" Miyuki taps a finger to Sawamura's heart, startling the pitcher.
Sawamura squirms out of Miyuki's grasp, quickly darting behind Kuramochi.
"Like I would ever dream about someone as infuriating as you! Wherever did you get such a crazy idea-"
"I told him, idiot." Kuramochi states blankly.
Sawamura lets out a gasp of betrayal, before falling to his knees in the most dramatic, or should Miyuki say, the most Sawamura-way possible.
Sawamura angrily grips onto Kuramochi's sweatpants, shaking furiously.
"Kuramochi-senpai, how could you!!!" Sawamura cries out. "Is this how you treat your precious underclassmen!!"
"Precious, my ass!" Kuramochi tries to shake Sawamura off his leg, but Sawamura hangs onto it for dear life, continuing to cry about how Kuramochi could do this to him after all they've been through. This makes Miyuki erupt in laughter. If he wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Kuramochi shoots Miyuki a menacing look.
“Don’t just stand there and laugh, asshole! Get your pitcher off of me!”
More of the Seidou players eventually make their way to the bathroom, only to be bewildered by the sight of Sawamura clinging onto Kuramochi, and Miyuki laughing with tears nearly forming in his eyes.
Wherever Sawamura goes it’s never quiet, this morning is proof of that.
Sawamura makes Miyuki laugh harder than he ever should, and it makes waking up, baseball practice, and games even more fun than they should be. Not that he would ever tell Sawamura that to his face.
He relishes in Sawamura’s reactions, how he responds to every little thing Miyuki does, and the hilariously huge smile that forms on the pitcher’s face when he tells him “Good pitch”.
And the overly loud shout of his name that he could hear from a mile away? As much as it pains him to hear it physically, he knows there isn’t any other sound like it in the world.
---
As evening rolls around, all the players are slowly wrapping up practice. Despite sweaty and exhausted, they all know they’ll be back at it again after the showers, swinging their bats wherever they can find a spot.
Miyuki is no different, but tonight he feels like sleeping early. Another day of early baseball practice in the morning and he’s got an exam to pass just to add onto that.
I think I’ll go over some notes from class before I call it a night. Miyuki thinks, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
As he reaches for his bat from the ground, ready to go hit the showers, he hears cleats tapping across the concrete, growing louder by the second behind him. Miyuki whips around, not completely surprised to see the sight of an out of breath Sawamura in a dirtied uniform standing before him.
“I found you!” Sawamura breathes out, trying to catch his breath quickly.
“What is it, Sawamura?”
“Are you busy, Cap?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Would you do me the honor of catching some more of my pitches today?!” Sawamura huffs, blowing air out his nose just like Miyauchi.
Miyuki blinks and almost breaks into a laugh much to the anger of Sawamura who seems to see it as Miyuki making fun of him (which he totally is). But Miyuki holds himself to maintain his composure.
“Do you the honor?” Miyuki repeats, “What’s with the sudden formality?”
“What about it?!” Sawamura shouts, “I am asking respectfully, is that a problem?”
Miyuki finally laughs.
“So, will you? Catch my pitches?” Sawamura repeats more softly this time, an expectant look on his face comparable to that of a dog wanting a bone. “…If you’re not busy?”
Miyuki sighs. Seriously, this guy…
“Wouldn’t you rather have dream-me catch your pitches? I’m sure he’d love that.”
Sawamura’s face gets red so fast it amazes Miyuki just how quickly blood can travel to his head.
“I’m asking you.” Sawamura points out, much to Miyuki’s surprise that he somehow didn’t erupt and try to strangle him in response instead.
“What’s the difference?”
Sawamura pauses for a moment. His brows furrow. He seems to be thinking hard about the apparently simple question. Miyuki worries he’ll fry his brain trying to think that hard.
“Well,” Sawamura finally says, “It’s just not the same.”
Not the same? What’s that supposed to mean? Obviously, it’s not the same in the sense that one is real. But before Miyuki can open his mouth, Sawamura throws his hands up like he’s trying to grab at something.
“Like… it feels… different!” He motions, trying to feel something in the air with his hands, before he balls them both into fists as if he’s found it.
“It just feels better with you. Like the you here! ... I guess?”
He guesses? Miyuki is unsure what to make of Sawamura’s answer again. Should he even bother to try asking Sawamura to elaborate? Now he truly was worried Sawamura might fry his brain if he tried.
“Does that answer your question?” Sawamura asks, like he’s certain Miyuki got it. He didn’t.
“Nope,” Miyuki answers, before turning around and starting to walk towards the direction of their usual nightly catching spot. “But fine, if you’re that adamant about it, let’s go before it gets too late.”
A smile lights up on Sawamura’s face as he runs up beside Miyuki, much like a dog happily taking a walk beside it’s owner.
“Thank you very much!! How does 30 of my amazing pitches sound?!”
“How about none.”
“Okay, 20 then!”
“10.”
“15!”
Miyuki laughs. “Fine, 15. That’s it, okay?”
“Yes, sir!” Sawamura yells, leaving Miyuki’s ears ringing. “But don’t blame me if you end up wanting more!”
“Ha, I doubt it.”
---
Miyuki tugs the catcher’s helmet above his head, sweat dripping down his forehead as he slowly rises from his previous stance.
“Alright, that’s 15.” Miyuki sighs out, “Your pitches look good, but the control could use a bit more work. We can see how they look tomorrow when it’s not so late.”
Sawamura watches as Miyuki takes a seat at one of the benches to take the protective gear off, and finally skips over to take a seat beside him. Miyuki glances over, noticing a pout forming from Sawamura’s lips.
“What’s with that face?”
“I don’t know what you mean!” Sawamura says, turning away.
Miyuki rolls his eyes. Sawamura is childish sometimes, to say the least. One moment he’s loud, up in your face ready to tell it to you straight, and another he’ll act like he’s got nothing to say when it’s written so clearly all over his face.
It’s moments like these when he decides to stay stubborn about his feelings that Miyuki doesn’t know what to do. He isn’t one to pry, but after seeing Sawamura have the yips, even something as simple as not communicating through practice makes Miyuki feel a bit uneasy.
Sawamura’s will power is strong, but he can be so fragile. Miyuki is scared he might break him with just a single sentence. He knows Sawamura respects him, maybe too much for his own good, and to put it mildly, it leaves Miyuki feeling a bit troubled. Miyuki isn’t like Chris, he doesn’t have wise, encouraging words to give, he’d rather express it through his plays. When Sawamura goes quiet Miyuki just doesn’t know what to do.
“Fine, don’t tell me then.”
There is a moment of silence that passes, though filled by the sound of the protective gear clacking against itself as Miyuki pulls it off himself. Miyuki looks over as Sawamura unexpectedly hops off the bench and kneels in front of him, grabbing hold of his left leg guard.
Miyuki continues to watch as Sawamura slowly pulls the straps off, but they don’t meet eyes.
“I’m not tired.” Sawamura finally says.
“What?”
“You said my pitches might look better when it’s not so late!” Sawamura reminds, “You think they look sloppy because I’m tired right now, don’t you?”
Miyuki feels a smile tug at the corner of his lips.
“Am I wrong?”
“So, so wrong! Sawamura Eijun never gets tired!”
“Oh sorry~ I forget you run on pure idiocy alone. Which you seem to have quite a lot of.”
“You are such an asshole, you know that?!”
“Thank you!”
“That wasn’t a compliment!”
Miyuki laughs as Sawamura wrestles his leg guard off, trying to still his burning annoyance with the catcher.
“Jeez, would it kill you to be nice?” Sawamura asks angrily, continuing over to the other leg guard. “I’ll have you know that I could do 100 pitches right here, right now! Anywhere you want!”
“Oh yeah, and I can hit 30 homeruns back-to-back.” Miyuki adds sarcastically. He expects Sawamura to blow up even more at the comment, but he doesn’t.
“I don’t see why you couldn’t.” Sawamura says with no hesitation, like it flew over his head that Miyuki was being completely unserious.
“Why’s that.” Miyuki questions.
And then Sawamura glances up with an intense look in his eyes that could only remind Miyuki of when they’re across from each other on the field.
“Because you’re amazing, Miyuki-senpai.” Sawamura responds, like it’s matter of fact. Which Miyuki won’t deny, of course he’s amazing.
But there’s a certain softness that follows Miyuki’s name. It makes something warm bubble up inside Miyuki, and he doesn’t know whether it’s the feeling of satisfaction, to hear Sawamura call him senpai, or amazing, or if it’s something else.
Miyuki watches as Sawamura turns his face down to finish up removing the other leg guard. His eyes follow along what he thinks is a creeping shade of red on Sawamura’s neck (but maybe he’s just imagining it), then up to his dark brown hair, until his eyes lower back onto Sawamura’s downward face.
His eyelashes are long and black, but his most redeeming feature are his burning, golden eyes. When they’re directed at him, they made Miyuki feel like he was basking in the sun. He continued down, quickly halting at Sawamura’s lips, which he often found himself staring at longer than he should have. They looked full and soft. Their subtle pink hue sometimes riddled Miyuki’s brain with thoughts he would rather not discuss.
“Done yet?” Miyuki asks, stopping himself from thinking any more unnecessary things.
“Done!” Sawamura responds, jumping up and gathering the pieces of the gear in his arms. “You are free to go!”
“Don’t even think about pitching any more when I leave, got it? We’ve got a practice game later this week, so no injuries.”
“Oh, like you’re one to talk!”
Miyuki lets out an amused laugh getting up. They finally part ways, Sawamura watching out the corner of his eye as Miyuki walked towards the exit, but not before abruptly turning around before both his feet are out the door.
“Sawamura!”
This makes the younger boy fully raise his head, and Miyuki knows he’s got his attention.
“I’ll be waiting for you in your dreams~” Miyuki says with a wink, before high tailing it out of there in laughter as he hears Sawamura’s immediate screaming and his figure running out the doors with his fist shaking in the air furiously.
“I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, MIYUKI KAZUYA!!”
Miyuki can almost picture the smoke coming out of Sawamura’s ears.
---
That night Miyuki had a dream. Which is weird, because Miyuki Kazuya does not have dreams. It’s weirder because he can feel a breeze on his face and the smell of the Seidou grounds, but he swears he had fallen asleep just a second before.
Miyuki scratches his head, perplexed at what kind of strange place his mind has gotten him into. He recognizes the tall fences, benches, the diamond, pretty much the entire field. Looking around more, there’s no one in sight. To be more precise, there’s nothing else at all.
The sky is crystal clear, not a single cloud. It all just seems like a photograph, a moment in time captured still. Now he’s convinced he really must be in a dream.
So boring. Miyuki thinks. My first dream in years and this is it?
And then almost out of thin air, he trips over something. He whips his head around to see his catcher’s mitt laying on the ground. As he goes to pick it up, he suddenly hears someone running. It’s a faint figure in the distance and Miyuki can only barely make out their team uniform. Miyuki squints his eyes, catching a blur of their dark brown hair flowing in the wind. Just who could it…
“MIYUKI KAZUYA!!”
And that’s when it hits him. The figure running at him. Sawamura.
Miyuki almost can’t believe the irony of it all. So much for seeing Sawamura in his dreams, now he’s seeing Sawamura in his dreams. Miyuki turns away, refusing to believe he’s having a dream about Sawamura. So much for having a dream, he’s having a nightmare.
“Miyuki Kazuya! Did you not hear me?”
Miyuki feels his heart nearly jump out of his chest. Miyuki only turned away for a second, but he was already face to face with this figment of the pitcher. He stares at Sawamura’s face before him, and it’s Sawamura alright. The same eyes, nose, mouth, there isn’t a single strand of hair out of place.
“Hello~? Earth to Miyuki!” Sawamura shouts, waving a hand in front of his face. “I asked you a question.”
The only word that finds its way out of Miyuki’s mouth is “what?”.
Sawamura suddenly grabs Miyuki’s hand and tugs him closer, which Miyuki instinctively almost yanks back if not for Sawamura’s terrifyingly firm grip on it.
“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Sawamura says, “You said you’d catch some of my pitches!”
Miyuki can’t tell what’s scarier, the fact that he can’t seem to escape from Sawamura’s never-ending requests or the fact that he can almost feel the heat emanating from the other boy’s hand.
However, Miyuki doesn’t plan to entertain whatever storyline this dream of his is conjuring up.
“I don’t remember saying that. Are you putting words into my mouth, Sawamura?” He responds back.
Miyuki expects Sawamura’s face to go red with anger like it usually does whenever Miyuki refuses to catch his pitches, but instead Sawamura goes quiet, pushing his lower jaw out and sucking in his upper lip to form a pout.
“You promised me.” Sawamura says in a low voice.
And just when Miyuki thinks things couldn’t get any weirder, Sawamura blinks up at him with a look he’s never seen in his life. He doesn’t know how it’s even possible for him to dream up the face he’s seeing because this isn’t a face Sawamura would make, let alone to anyone like Miyuki. But then again, Sawamura is full of surprises.
He feels the other boy’s grip tighten and Sawamura’s finger gently picking at the back of his hand. Miyuki doesn’t know if he’s doing it on purpose. He can’t seem to pull his eyes away from Sawamura’s expression, because its wreaking havoc on his brain thinking about just why he’d ever look like that at Miyuki, and what’s even worser is that Miyuki thinks it’s kind of adorable.
“Let go of my hand, Sawamura.” He finally manages out.
“Catch my pitches, then!” Sawamura says back. Miyuki tries to tug his hand away, but Sawamura pulls him back even harder. “I’m not letting go until you say yes!”
His mind clears for a moment and Miyuki is reminded of just how demanding Sawamura is. Always wanting this, always wanting that, so vocal about his desires. It’s infuriating.
“Okay.” Miyuki says, and immediately Sawamura drops his hand and cheers like no tomorrow. What an annoying little brat.
Miyuki throws a finger in front of Sawamura’s face. “But! On one condition.”
He’s given a suspicious look.
“You have to call me senpai. Don’t you think it’s time you start giving me the respect I deserve? No more of that full-name calling.”
Sawamura frowns, but his face says he’s considering it. There’s no way Miyuki is letting Sawamura get his way thateasily.
“Well?” Miyuki asks with a smirk.
Sawamura grinds his teeth. “Fine.” He spits out.
“Good boy!” Miyuki says, giving Sawamura a pat on the head.
He watches Sawamura’s face flush red as he tries to swat his hand away. This is the reaction he wanted. “Ugh! Don’t treat me like a dog! Go and get ready, I’ll be waiting!”
Miyuki laughs at Sawamura’s words, before slipping his hand into his catcher’s mitt. The fit was perfectly snug. As he glances up, Sawamura is already skipping off into the distance. He finally gets so far to the point Miyuki can barely make him out in the distance, and then he shouts something. But for some reason Miyuki can’t hear him, it sounds muffled.
“What?” Miyuki shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth.
Sawamura finally pauses and waves his arms in the air. His mouth moves but now everything sounds muffled, like Miyuki’s underwater. He tries to step forward. He can’t. Now the noises are starting to hurt, like his ear drums are popped. He looks up at Sawamura again, who stares back at him before turning around and running off further.
Miyuki tries to shout, Hey! Wait a minute, idiot!
Then he finally hears Sawamura’s voice ring into his ear.
“Miyuki—"
---
“--KAZUYA!!”
Miyuki’s body jumps at the earsplitting sound of his name. He immediately yanks his eye mask up and the first thing he sees is Sawamura’s startled expression. Is he still dreaming?
“What was that all about, Cap?!”
Miyuki looks around. He’s in his bed.
“You scared me!” Sawamura exclaims.
“Scared you? Who’s the one screaming right into my ear?” Miyuki retorts with heavy breath. He pulls the eye mask off entirely and rubs his tired eyes.
Sawamura lowers his head. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“Something like that.”
He can see Sawamura’s stupid grin from out the corner of his eye.
“Oh, Miyuki Kazuya gets nightmares too, huh?” Sawamura laughs, leaning his body forward, “What terrifying monster did you dream of?”
Miyuki raises his hand and flicks Sawamura’s forehead, causing him to fall back. “None of your business, idiot. What do you want?”
Sawamura scowls at Miyuki. “Last night, remember? Didn’t you say we could look at my pitches?”
“I didn’t mean at the crack of dawn.”
“Well, I’m already here aren’t I? Come on, Cap, it’ll be quick!” Sawamura insists.
Miyuki pulls his blanket over himself and turns his back to Sawamura.
“Nope. No way, I’m going back to sleep.”
“You’re already awake, you can’t go back to sleep!!” Sawamura argues, grabbing the blanket which results in a battle of tug-o-war.
Miyuki pretends to snore, but it doesn’t deter Sawamura at all, just riling him up further until he finally musters up all his strength to tear the blanket off Miyuki. The pitcher lets out a triumphant laugh, pulling himself over the catcher’s curled up body. Miyuki can practically feel his breath on his ear.
“Come on, I’m waiting!” He exclaims, sounding nearly the same as he did in the dream.
Dealing with one Sawamura is a feat in it of itself, but dealing with another one in his sleep, a place he had deemed to be his solace away from the chaos of baseball, is another thing.
The last thing he needs is to see Sawamura’s face first thing in the morning and the last thing at night.
He only hopes that this will be the last time he’ll dream of Sawamura.
