Chapter Text
Los Angeles.
A place he has never set foot upon, but feels like he knows the corners of the streets by heart, all thanks to Sawamura - who relentlessly leaves multiple voice messages at a time on Line, and pictures.
Pictures of tall palms tress along the roads, sunrise by the ocean, and the city silhouette with skyscrapers in the evening. Scenaries he has seen many times in Hollywood movies, and on Instagram of his favorite MLB players.
He never thought he was smiling whenever looking at these pictures, until one day Amahisa ran into him in the locker room. And since then he has never heard the end of him complaining how Sawamura has always left his messages "read", but never replied.
Miyuki tucked his chin into the scarf around his neck, as he navigated his way towards the baseball diamond. His hands inside his coat pocket to keep warm -- he thought the weather in LA would be much warmer, but the day he stepped off of the plane, he has been greeted by the coldsnap that arrived just two days prior.
Though, the coldsnap in LA in comparison, is still warmer than Tokyo's winter.
His finger tips touched the corner of his phone inside his pocket: pictures of not just scenary.
Although just a blurry silhouette -- Sawamura never got better with his picture taking skills -- he could still easily pick out that bright smile. The wind by the water made his shirt kiss the skin of his upper body. He's got taller, and his shoulders have gotten broader.
[Kuramochi-Senpai will be visiting this weekend, and he'll be subbing for our team tonight!]
Miyuki smiled as he got close to the park.
The game is already underway, and it's drawn quite the audience, being first game of playoffs. He could hear Sawamura from miles away, "Short!"
The crowd was restless, and small cheers were coming through, "What a reaction from the shortstop! I remember him from last time!"
Miyuki found himself a spot on the bleachers behind the fence at first base.
Sawamura's team's jersey is black with white stripes, big red letters across the chest spelling "Firehawks".
He sat down just in time to catch Kuramochi's smile, "Sawamura, two out!"
Miyuki rested his chin on his wrist. While he can't help to automatically analyzing the situation on the field with his professional catcher instincts, his eyes also can't help but to wander between Sawamura on the pitcher mound, and Kuramochi behind him.
Sawamura has his eyes tight on his catcher, communicating the best strategy for the next pitch.
Kuramochi ... now to think of it, Miyuki turned his head slightly and watched with intention, so he gets a full view of the shortstop. He realized that he never really had any close look of what Kuramochi would do on the field when getting ready for the next pitch.
He somehow just knew, Kuramochi was always ready. When he throws his catch to a, what seems like, an empty second base to stop a steal, he just knew Kuramochi will be there for his catch.
Kuramochi bent his back, and rested both of his hands on his knees, while still kept his head on a swivel. His eyes are focused, sparkled with the familiar cheetah instinct. His lips curled up -- he had lost the mischievious feel over the last few years growing up -- but nevertheless, always confident.
As Sawamura nodded to his catcher, Miyuki noticed Kuramochi twisted his body slightly left and right to loosen up his back and shoulders before setting himself in position. As the batter made contact with the ball, Kuramochi instinctively moved his feet, kicking up dirt behind him. Even from a distance, Miyuki could tell Kuramochi was clinching his teeth as he dove to prevent the ball from flying past his defence.
"Out!"
Kuramochi picked himself up, and patted the dirt off of his chest as he looked at Sawamura with his side eyes, "Baka ... that was no where close to where your catcher wanted."
Sawamura chuckled out loud, "Thank you Cheetah! Cheetah Thank you!"
Miyuki can't help but to smile. He's feeling nolstagic right now.
He had missed the reunion last year due to training schedule conflict. But he had seen video clips sent to the group chat of everyone playing a game. Jun-san had never gave up on his pitcher's skills, and had two strike outs in a roll, until Tetsu-san took the stand, and hit a homerun with just one swing.
The video cut off as Jun-san was saying something about he'll get it back. But not before Miyuki caught half a second of Kuramochi's laugh in the background.
"Hyaha!"
Yep, that's the one... Miyuki's smile grew wider as he watched Kuramochi zoomed past him to first base.
Now that Kuramochi is closer, Miyuki could tell his shoulders were not the only place that got broader. Kuramochi's arms and legs are evidently more toned, he had grown nicely into his own body frame. His face lost the babyfat chubbiness, and is now more defined.
Miyuki chuckled to himself slightly. Kuramochi could've gone to second base with that hit, but he could tell Kuramochi wanted to play it safe -- most likely playing against a team he's not 100% familiar with, and not something he would take a risk on.
A characteristic Miyuki had always appreciated of Kuramochi -- that subtle thoughtfulness underneath that delinquent look of his.
He was glad growing up did not make Kuramochi change. Over the last few years, he had seen lots of characteristic changes. To the better or to worse, he cared very little, for as long as they performed as they should on the field, Miyuki cared less about who they were off the field.
But somehow, he was glad Kuramochi stayed the same. In fact, as the crowd sitting beside him was making comments such as "Holy moly, did you see? Who is that guy? Can someone time how fast he runs between bases?", a sense of delight and pride rose within him.
Since he entered professional baseball league, Miyuki rarely would watch baseball games for leisure. There had always been intentions: to analyze opponent, to dissect a new pitcher, to observe people's swinging habits, and to strategize the next game.
It had became second nature to him, he found himself doing all of the above throughout this entire game without evening thinking. Subconsciously, he was strategizing the different pitches as Sawamura took the pitcher's mound every time.
But then, during the break, he caught a glimpse of Kuramochi and Sawamura talking to someone on the otherside of the fence behind homebase. It was a girl, she bent down and picked up the shiba inu from the ground, and handed over to Kuramochi.
Kuramochi held onto the dog with such familiarity, and tilted his head backwards with a laugh as the shiba licked his face. The puppy cannot be anymore than 6 months old, an age filled with energy, but while in Kuramochi's arms, it simply leaned on his shoulder comfortably and continued to show affection.
Miyuki found himself relaxing with a sigh, and leaned back on the bleacher to stretch out his back.
He smiled, and took out his phone, and snapped a picture.
At Seido, baseball was life for all of them. They all had the same goals.
Now, baseball is still life for all of them, even when life had taken them on different paths.