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Abe could feel his chest tighten up. It was a familiar feeling, one that his heart struggled with more times than he could count. It was never comfortable, and it always put him on edge. It was like his body was a loop, repeating the motion every single second he saw that stupid billboard ad in the bustling city he lived in.
When he stared at that billboard, a thousand thoughts rushed through his brain, and he prayed to God that his nerves didn’t short-circuit. It was bad enough that he couldn’t let the pro player go. Seriously, it was embarrassing. Looking at the billboard made him sick; it pushed and pressed against the scars edged around his heart. The big, bright picture filled him with an ache— it was harsh, almost unbearable, and it sunk into every fiber of his being.
Abe had always been a skeptic when it came to matters of the heart. He didn't buy into the sappy romance films or the notion of true love's kiss. To him, love was merely a chemical reaction in the brain, designed to keep the cycle of life going. He was never one for crushes or confessions, or romance in general. He wasn’t the type to believe in love, but it sure believed in him.
The city lights shone brightly, almost blinding Abe as he walked down the busy street. He gripped his bag tightly, mainly because robbers were common in the area that he lived in. The people around him were more dead than alive. A bunch of office workers either passed out drunk near buildings or were just fighting to get home. Watching them made him chuckle; he wondered if he’d end up like that one day. The streetlight illuminated the area, showcasing how empty the street was at night.
The moon was peeking through the clouds in scattered beams as it hit the ground. The sound of distant sirens echoed in the background, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the night. Abe was interning as a physical therapist, barely getting by on rent, and was probably going to heat up ramen for dinner. Life like this was mundane to say the least, but as long as he could afford his education and help people, Abe considered it worthwhile.
Suddenly, he felt a hand hit his shoulder, sending thick shivers down his spine. He whipped his head around as fast as he could, and behind him was an old friend of his, Yuuto Sakaeguchi. Sakaeguchi had a wide smile on his face. When their eyes met, a warm flush of nostalgia filled his body. It had been about 11 years since their first year at Nishiura. Since they met.
Sakeaguchi was vice president along with Abe back in high school; to this day, Abe couldn’t understand why they picked him to be vice president. He wasn’t the best team player considering his short fuse, but he tried his best.
“I haven’t seen you in, like, a month!” Sakaeguchi said. “How’ve you been, man?”
Abe felt a sense of happiness overwhelm him, yet he didn’t show it. His chest began to ease ever so slightly.
"I've been busy with work," Abe replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "You know how it is with internships; they eat up your time."
Sakaeguchi nodded understandingly. "I told you to study sports psychology with me,” he muttered. “It’s not as long as nursing.”
Abe just waved him away, groaning in response to what Sakaeguchi had said. Abe had a reason for becoming a physical therapist. He was determined to support others and make a difference. It was in his blood. He wanted to get into a career that involved sports, especially because he wasn’t picked for any big-time leagues. The memory of… Ren being picked over him was jarring. It made his stomach turn and his palms sweat. An envy he’d never felt before.
He was supposed to go pro, not Mihashi. How could he not!? He was the one that taught Mihashi everything he needed to know! He was the one that pulled away each of Mihashi’s petals, with hands so gentle that it scared him. Mihashi was only great because of him. So why didn’t he get chosen?
“Abe! You there, man?” exclaimed Sakaeguchi, breaking Abe out of his thoughts.
Abe took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought."
Sakaeguchi looked at him with concern. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, just... stuff," Abe said, waving off the question. He didn't want to get into it, not here, not now. He couldn’t think about the jealousy that boiled in his heart after seven long years. It was aggravating enough that he wouldn’t forget Mihashi.
“You can talk to me,” muttered Sakaeguchi, “I won’t judge.”
“I know,” groaned Abe. “I just…don’t feel like talking about it.”
“Okay,” Sakaeguchi replied, and for a while they walked in silence.
The sound of cars zooming past them was the only noise that Abe focused on. It was comforting to Abe; it let him to calm down and to concentrate on other things. As they continued walking, Sakaeguchi glanced at Abe with a look of concern. The latter looked away, avoiding eye contact as well as confrontation.
To many people, Abe was a lone island in a sea of people. He was a silent observer, often taking in his surroundings and not adding much to them. He was fine this way, fine being unbothered, fine with the fact that people never really wondered what he was up to. Abe preferred to keep to himself, finding tranquility in his own thoughts rather than engaging in unnecessary conversation.
"Uhm, Abe? Tajima is planning to host a reunion soon. Are you coming?"
Abe gulped hard, holding his things tighter than he had before. Thank God he was close to his apartment complex; he really didn't have the time or mentality to even think about a reunion. Seeing the people he tried so hard to hide from after high school was difficult.
To be completely honest, though, he didn't mind seeing Hanai, Tajima, Suyama, Izumi, and all the others. It was Mihashi Ren that ruined him the most. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Mihashi was a rose in a garden of thorns. He was unlike the others. He had this awkwardness to him that Abe found interesting. At first it was irritating, but as he saw Mihashi grow, develop, and trust him, he realized how important their bond was. Abe didn't want to face Mihashi because deep down he knew that he was just a passerby in Mihashi's path to greatness.
He was okay with that.
Even if the idea of Mihashi forgetting him made him ill. It was okay. After all, how could he ask anyone to love him when all he did was beg to be left alone? This is what he got for being so selfish.
"I'll think about it," was all Abe said in return.
──★
Abe took his keys out of his pocket and flipped through each of them until he reached the key to his apartment. He slid the key into the lock. The door made a clicking sound, signifying it was open. Abe walked inside his apartment, struggling because of the great amount of folders and books he had been carrying. His arms were sore and strained because of the great stress he was putting on his body.
God, he was a physical therapist; he should be good at knowing when to stop. He knew when his body had had enough. He slid his sneakers off and walked into the living room. His apartment wasn’t that big; it was around 650 square feet, much smaller than his family home. Abe sighed, his whole body aching because he had to work from 5 to 9.
He went to the bathroom and turned the lights on. The light flickered once or twice, but Abe didn’t mind. As long as he had a place to stay and a heating system, he didn’t mind. Abe quickly assessed the bathroom, noticing the slightly outdated tiles and the rust stains around the faucet. The mirror above the sink had a few cracks, but it was still functional. He sighed with relief, grateful for the warmth that began to fill the small space as he closed the door behind him. He turned on the sink, staring into the mirror.
Abe listened to the soothing sound of the water flowing for a few moments before reaching for his toothbrush, which was nestled in its holder next to the sink. The bristles were slightly damp from the last time he had used it, and he gave it a gentle shake to dislodge any residual water droplets. The room was filled with the faint scent of mint toothpaste and the hum of the bathroom lights. As the sink began to fill, he noted the tiny swirls and eddies forming on the surface of the water, a testament to the faucet's consistent flow.
He began to brush his teeth, his eyes fighting to stay open and his head drooping. He didn’t know thinking this hard would make him this tired. It didn’t matter much, though, considering he was in the comfort of his own home.
When Abe was done, he dunked his head under the pipe, letting cold water cascade over his scalp and poke at his flesh. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his mind and his heart. The water, in fact, only made him feel worse.
It reminded him of their first-ever championship. That day the weather wasn’t in their favor, yet Mihashi’s pitches were incredible. The seasoned players from Tosei were confused and conflicted, but Abe couldn’t care less, as long as they won.
As long as Mihashi climbed out of his shell.
But there was an event that occurred during the match. Mihashi had fallen two times too many, and his most recent accident threatened their win.
He and Mihashi were both stressed. They were both at the end of the line.
When a timeout was called, he watched as Mihashi escaped into the bathroom, and when he followed, he saw Mihashi sitting on the floor with water cascading down his face like how he was washing his. Seeing Mihashi in such a vulnerable state was different; it made him worry. It made him feel as if everything was his fault. He reached out to Mihashi because he was his pitcher.
Mihashi was his.
Abe turned off the pipe and pulled his head away, shaking off water droplets and wiping his face dry. Then, he made his way to his small bedroom. He pulled out a pair of pajamas from his drawer, putting them on before looking around his room once again. Something was slightly off about his room; his posters of Mihashi were gone.
The posters were torn apart. They were scattered in his room.
Abe couldn’t handle Ren’s eyes staring down his body every minute he was at home. Eyes so wide and joyous, it made him remember old times. Of course, Abe knew it was pathetic to use such silly measures to let go of Mihashi, but what else could he do? It was driving him crazy. The memories of high school and Mihashi looking at him with such soft eyes made him feel a strong sense of despair. Mihashi was a chill breeze on a summer day. A sun in a river of stars; a pearl on a beach full of stones.
Abe slumped onto his bed, his body adjusting to the soft feeling of his pillow against him. He shifted back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. He turned to the corner in his room, focusing on the pieces of paper that lay in the trash can before turning his head away to the dresser, his head a whirlpool of thoughts.
Picture frames of him and Mihashi grinning wildly as their arms lay upon their shoulders. Mihashi had a smile as bright as the sun; it warmed Abe’s heart every time he saw it, which wasn’t much, but still. He curled up under the thick covers of his bed, trying again to feel at ease. It was getting harder and harder to fall asleep, and the reunion wasn’t making it any better.
Abe sighed. Did he really have to go through the ritual he always did to fall asleep? He was trying to break the habit, but the only thing he was doing was letting it fester. God, how pathetic could he be? Abe looked down at his hands, his palms covered in old scars and old memories. Bringing them up to his face, he stared at them with sunken eyes. These hands of his used to be filled with the warmth of another. But now, all he could feel was the warmth of his own blood pumping through his veins. He missed the rough sensation of Mihashi’s hands in his; he missed the sting of Mihashi's calluses rubbing against his flesh. He missed Mihashi squeezing his hands so tightly that it hurt. He missed their connection so much that he hated it. He hated Mihashi and how he wanted him near. His body began to tremble with nothing but need; the desire to be one with Mihashi growing stronger. His greed was getting to him, and if he continued to lie here and grieve what he’d lost, he’d be stuck in this tiresome loop forever. Abe wrapped his arms around himself, trying to find the solace that he once had. But it was useless… it was always useless. Unless it was Mihashi, it wouldn’t work.
Abe tried going on dating apps and double dates. He tried meeting new people and experiencing more opportunities. But no matter how hard he tried, everything just felt boring. He couldn’t fall into line, couldn’t get used to the bitter feeling of loneliness in his head. Even if he was tired of being lonely, it was his fault that Mihashi was gone. He never made an effort to force him to stay— mainly because he wanted Mihashi to find his own way, but it was still pretty selfish of him. At the end of the day, Mihashi would probably resent him, especially after all those years they spent together.
Abe squeezed his hands together yet again and squeezed his eyes shut. He had to get some sleep; he had a week's worth of work ahead of him, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. As he drifted off to sleep, Abe couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on his chest. He knew he was to blame, but he just couldn't face the jarring truth.
──★
Abe didn’t plan on going to the reunion. He didn’t even plan to go outside. The snow was heavy, and the streets were filled with cars waiting in intense traffic. The night draped the city in a heavy shroud of gloom, the atmosphere thick with a biting cold. Snow blanketed the streets in a crisp, glistening white, the falling flakes creating a mesmerizing display against the backdrop of street lights. The buildings stood tall and ominous against the dark, overcast sky. It was February 14th, and Abe felt that he should celebrate himself. Ever since his first Valentine's Day with Mihashi, his mind made it clear that he hated the day. That day about six years ago, Abe was looking for Mihashi because he was late for practice. Mihashi was never late to practice. This obviously stressed him out because a catcher needs their pitcher. While he was searching, he heard the stammering voice of a girl; he could feel his eyes rolling, but before he could pass by where the girl was, he heard another voice: Mihashi.
His heart skipped a beat hearing him, but he couldn't tell why. It was clear Mihashi was being confessed to, so why was it upsetting him? Maybe it was the realization that Mihashi might not need him as much as he thought. Or maybe it was the fear of losing his closest teammate to someone else. Either way, he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in his chest. In a moment of utter confusion, Abe interrupted, grabbing Mihashi’s hand and pulling him away from the girl who was confessing to him. "We have practice," was the excuse that he gave Mihashi when he asked why. In actuality, Abe didn't know himself; he didn't know why he was so scared of Mihashi being with someone else. He didn't like Mihashi or anything; he just needed his pitcher to be focused on him, not some silly relationship.
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past. That was six years ago, and Abe was way too old to be whining about his high school crush. He had things to do, like treating himself to some beer and meat, both of his favorite things! Abe continued his walk down the street, a few blocks away from his apartment. He avoided happy couples and loud drunks, his hands digging into the warmth of his coat pockets.
Soon, Abe stood in front of his favorite hot pot spot and grinned. He knew that people would be staring considering he was about to eat a whole bowl of hot pot by himself, but Abe didn't really give a damn. He pushed open the wooden doors and walked inside, nothing but joy filling his heart as the sweet fumes of herbs and spices filled his nostrils. If he were in a cartoon, he was sure he'd be floating to a warm bowl of meat by now.
"Abe!" yelled a familiar voice. Abe clenched his fist in anguish as he turned his head, meeting eyes with…Tajima?
Shit.
Abe harshly bit his tongue. Why was Tajima here? Wasn’t he supposed to be away for a game? Abe quickly tried to come up with an excuse in his head, but Tajima's piercing gaze made him feel exposed. He knew he was in for an awkward encounter. Abe decided that he should just leave now before anyone else noticed him, but as he turned around to walk out, he bumped into someone.
“Ugh! Watch where you're—...” Mihashi? This wasn’t even the scheduled date for the reunion, was it? God, this was so avoidable! If he’d just checked his phone like a normal person, he would have seen that change in date. He couldn’t see Mihashi, not here, not now, not ever!
"S—Sorry… Abe-kun,” stammered Mihashi. He was so much taller now.
Abe swallowed hard, averting his gaze and stepping out of Mihashi’s way. He couldn’t help but study Mihashi; the boy was fuller, more muscular, and his hair was curlier, a bit more well-kept than normal. No, normal wasn’t the word to use— he didn’t know what was normal for Mihashi. He didn’t realize how much Mihashi had really changed.
But he couldn’t leave now; he’d seem like a total asshole if he did. He walked with Mihashi, but not too close; he wanted to avoid contact as best as he could. If he even thought about getting close to Mihashi, then he’d probably make a mistake that he couldn't come back from. Even though they were only a few feet apart, he felt so far away.Being physically close didn’t necessarily make things less awkward, especially between someone like Mihashi. If Abe could describe it, he’d compare their distance to two ships. Ships that sail across the sea and take different paths. That never intersect. They were meant to be apart, and Abe knew that. Mihashi had grown so much while he was gone— he couldn’t hinder the light illuminating from the star he’d let go.
Abe made his way to the table, greeting everyone with a half-assed grin before having a seat. The atmosphere was lively, almost comforting; it reminded him of old times. As he sat down, he couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for the days when things were simpler between him and Mihashi. Mihashi sat away from him, at least three chairs down, and Abe didn't make any effort to speak with him.
Tajima chugged down bottles of sake as he bragged about his recent win, Hanai sighing right next to him. The bar was alive with laughter and chatter, a palpable energy that filled the air. Izumi argued with Hamada about how careless he was while drinking, muttering that he wasn’t taking the other home. Conversations echoed throughout the room, blending together to form a melodic soundtrack to the night's festivities. Waiters moved swiftly with practiced grace, serving meals and refilling glasses with a steady hand. Abe focused on the real treat: the boiling soup on the table. He picked up about four pieces of meat with chopsticks and shoved them in the pot, stirring a bit before forcing it into his mouth.
“...The food isn’t running away,” muttered Mizutani under his breath, causing everyone else at the table to break into laughter.
“I know that!” yelled Abe in return, his cheeks heating up with nothing but pure embarrassment.
Abe was supposed to be here by himself, but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t enjoying himself. Everything was so lively and welcoming; he couldn’t get over the feelings of glee that filled his heart. It was just like old times, and maybe that’s what Abe needed.
“Oh! I just remembered something!” Tajima exclaimed with a huge chunk of food in his mouth, which caused everyone to turn around.
“Do you guys remember when we were talking about fantasies at camp?” Abe gulped in response, not because of any fantasy he had, but the others. He watched as Izumi, Mizutani, Nishihiro, Hanai, and Mihashi's faces lit up with thick, red blush. As the memories flooded back, Abe couldn't help but chuckle at the embarrassment on their faces; he was pretty glad that he wasn't the target of Tajima's torment.
"Hey, I want to know what Izumi was thinking about!" yelled an excited Hamada, which led to Izumi elbowing him in the stomach with an uncalled-for amount of strength. Hamada groaned in response, and all Izumi did in return was stick out his tongue like he was still a first year.
"Wasn't it swimsuits? You know, having sex underwater...?" Tajima muttered, a smirk crawling onto his face as he watched Izumi's cheeks heat up. Izumi leaned over and pulled Tajima into a hearty headlock, causing him to yelp in surprise. The rest of the group burst into laughter at the unexpected turn of events.
"God, you're so annoying! You act like you don't like doing it outside!" exclaimed Izumi in irritation. Tajima simply laughed before he started struggling to breathe and began turning an unruly shade of purple. Hanai was laughing as well until he noticed this sudden change in color and forced Izumi to finally let go of Tajima.
"Hey Mihashi…" said Sakaeguchi with a mischievous grin on his face. "You've been awfully quiet."
Mihashi swallowed, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting with his fingers. Abe looked at Mihashi's hands; they were covered in calluses, a familiar sight. Mihashi's callused hands were a reminder of the hard work he put into his pitching, a fact that Abe admired about him. Abe couldn't help but wonder if Mihashi's new catcher was watching out for him. Was he checking up on Mihashi? Correcting his posture? Comforting him when he'd cry? The thought was… unsettling, to say the least, so Abe tried his best to ignore it.
If only Mihashi could forgive him for his distance, his pain was evident in his existence. He wanted to speak with Mihashi, but his heart wouldn’t let him, and who was he to go against his own vulnerability? Abe wanted to be comfortable with his silence, when really, it was eating him alive.
“Do you still like nurses?” teased Sakaeguchi, nudging Mihashi’s side.
Mihashi’s cheeks heated up, his palms sweating, and his eyes widened. Abe chuckled at the sight, wondering what Mihashi would do next. He watched as the boy stuttered for a bit, looked around the room, and finally, chugged a whole bottle of sake, confusing everyone. Abe sighed; he could never read that guy, even after knowing him for so long. Blood rushed straight to Mihashi’s cheeks as the liquid in his throat began to burn, causing him to cough abruptly. Of course, Abe felt a sense of worry, but in the end, he decided to leave it alone; Mihashi wasn’t that much of a lightweight.
Wrong.
After a few minutes, the effects of Mihashi’s stupidity began to show. His fingers trembled as he squeezed the bottle of sake, his eyes welling up with big, watery tears.
“A—Abe,” began Mihashi, catching everyone’s attention. “D—Did… y-you leave me because I wasn’t as good as Haruna?”
Abe felt his nerve endings begin to fry, and his gears began to turn the wrong way. His forehead began to throb, and the thickest vein known to man was the cause of it. He clenched his fist until they turned an ungodly shade of white as if to try and steer his anger away from the crying man three seats down from him.
“Ooh, a lover’s quarrel,” giggled Tajima. “Would you ladies like to step out?”
“Shut the fuck up,” growled Abe, his voice rougher than expected. The atmosphere in the room grew tense as Abe's frustration boiled over. He took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure while addressing the distraught Mihashi. Soon, Abe stood up and walked towards Mihashi, who was now cowering in fear.
“Come with me,” muttered Abe. “You need to clear your head.” Mihashi looked up at Abe with tear-filled eyes, the fear etched on his face palpable. He nodded slowly, his body trembling as he gathered his belongings and followed Abe out of the crowded, noisy room. The cool evening air greeted them as they stepped outside, providing a stark contrast to the heated tension that had filled the room.
Once they were a safe distance from the others, Abe looked up to face Mihashi, his expression a mix of concern and frustration.
"What the hell was that about?" he asked, his voice still gruff but with an underlying tone of care. "You know you can't just go around saying stuff like that, especially not in a place like this."
Abe could feel his body heating up with discomfort; standing with Mihashi like this was incredibly awkward, especially after he walked away from Mihashi in such a pathetic way. He wouldn't be surprised if Mihashi hated him, but making such an unruly claim was crossing a line. He knew Mihashi was drunk, but he should at least remember how annoying Haruna is.
"You— you can't get mad at me!" whispered Mihashi, his body overwhelmed with tremors. His eyes avoided Abe's as if they were the plague. Mihashi looked down at the ground, his hands fidgeting with his fingertips.
He was right; Abe couldn't get mad when he was the one who betrayed him. He was the one who abandoned Mihashi like a stray pup to fend for himself. But a puppy had to stray away from the pack to grow, right? He was doing Mihashi a favor, even if it was hurting both of them.
"I—Is that why you left? B—because you didn't want to see my face?" Mihashi's voice cracked as he spoke, the hurt evident in his tone. Abe could hear the air getting stuck in Mihashi's throat, and in that moment of pure vulnerability, all he could see was Mihashi as a first-year, sobbing because he believed that he wouldn't be good enough for anyone. Abe clenched his fist yet again, avoiding eye contact. Guilt squeezed around his heart; he felt bad for Mihashi. The worst sin he'd committed was destroying their bond and betraying Mihashi's feeble heart.
"Ren, stop talking like a child," exclaimed Abe. "You're playing in the major leagues now." Mihashi flinched at the sudden use of his first name.
"Y—Yeah, I am, aren't I?" Mihashi's eyes searched Abe's for any sign of sincerity, his own gaze filled with a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, Abe was speaking the truth. A single tear trickled down his cheek, betraying his emotional state. "Did you leave because I got picked and you didn't…?" The tremble in his voice was visible, and it took every ounce of self-control Abe had not to pull him into a comforting embrace.
"I wouldn't have gone if it meant staying by your side. I- I need you, Abe."
"You don't need me, Ren," Abe replied, his own voice tight. “You need to focus on yourself, your own growth. That's what I wanted for you; that's what I want now."
Mihashi took a step closer, his eyes pleading. "But I don't understand," he whispered. "Why would you do that if it's not because you don't want to see me anymore?"
Abe sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping slightly. He knew he had to be honest with Mihashi, even if it was going to be painful. "I didn't leave because I didn't want to see you," he admitted. "I left because I knew if I stayed, I'd hold you back. You're a damn good player, Ren. You're gonna go far. I don’t want my own issues to drag you down."
Mihashi's expression was a mix of confusion and disbelief. "But I—I don't care about that. I just want you to be happy."
Abe's eyes snapped back to meet Mihashi, a hint of surprise in his gaze. "Don't you get it?" he said, his voice raising. "That's what I'm trying to do! I'm trying to be happy for you, for your success. And I can't do that if I'm stuck in the past, holding onto what we had."
Mihashi's trembling hands reached out to touch Abe's arm, his eyes never leaving Abe's. "But I'm happy when we're together," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Isn't that what matters?"
Abe went silent.
"T—Takaya! Answer me!"
"No," muttered Abe. "It's not what matters. You have a job and fame and dreams— I can't hold you back from pursuing them. You probably don't even know what you're saying," whispered Abe. "You're drunk anyway."
“Stop trying to downplay how I feel!” Mihashi yelled, his voice filled with uncontrollable tremors, his eyes threatening to release new tears. Mihashi wanted Abe to see him as more than just a player. He was tired of his heart grieving for hours on end when the one person he truly longed for was right in front of him. Night after night he begged for love; he was homesick, searching for arms that never truly held him.
“You’re not thinking straight, Mihashi,” Abe blurted out. “You never think.”
Mihashi's face crumpled, Abe's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. He felt as if all the air had been knocked out of him, leaving him defenseless and exposed. The pain in his chest grew with each passing second, and his voice quivered as he tried to form a response.
“Y— You’re right, Abe. I don’t think,” whispered Mihashi. “I— I’m stupid, and I follow my heart, not my mind.” He inched closer to Abe. “And what my heart wants is you.”
Abe looked at Mihashi, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion. He hadn't expected this confession, especially not in this state. But when he saw the sincerity in Mihashi's eyes, he realized that his words were not just the product of drunkenness, but a reflection of deep-rooted feelings.
"Mihashi," Abe began, his voice softer than before. He didn't know how to handle this situation— he had never been on the receiving end of such raw, unbridled emotion.
“I don’t care if I— I’m selfish. I don’t care if you believe I’m throwing everything away. I don’t care about pitching… because as much as I love baseball, I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Abe stared at Mihashi for a moment, trying to process the gravity of his words. His own heart raced in his chest, and he felt the weight of the unspoken truths that had been piling up between them for so long. He didn't know what to say, his mind a jumble of thoughts and feelings that he had never allowed himself to fully acknowledge.
Mihashi didn’t wait for a response; the stirring of his heart in his chest was too much for him to bear. The feeling of longing washed over Mihashi like waves, waves that he drowned in. He had waited years for Abe to call, to mail him, to meet with him, to love him, and they came and went with nothing in return.
Mihashi let his hand slide behind Abe’s head, a bold move that surprised even him as he pulled Abe closer to him, their breathing mixing together like a rhythmic melody. Abe watched carefully as tears ran down the plush of Mihashi’s cheeks, red blush spilling across his cheekbones. Abe knew he was doing the same, yet he couldn’t fight against it, not when Mihashi was so close.
Mihashi stared down at him with big, tender eyes that held the same amount of warmth as the sun; Abe devoured each ounce of light that Mihashi let grace his face.
“Stop touching me with your eyes,” whispered Abe. “You have lips for a reason, right?”
Mihashi's hand on Abe's arm tightened, his breath hitching as he leaned in. Abe's heart raced, and his mind was a tornado of emotions. He knew that this moment was significant, that the decision he made now could change the course of their lives forever. He felt the warmth of Mihashi's breath, the closeness of their bodies, and the desperation in the grip of his hand. Mihashi’s lips pressed against the other’s, warm and soft. Abe let his lips part, letting Mihashi slide his tongue into the other's mouth. Mihashi could feel the slight tickle of Abe’s breathing against his face.
To Abe, Mihashi looked like a desperate puppy, begging for his love and attention. He was so close— any closer and Abe was sure they’d fuse together to become one body. Honestly, Abe didn’t mind that idea. Abe licked deep inside of Mihashi’s mouth, his body shivering, yet he didn’t know if it was because of the tingling sensation he felt or the chills in the wind. Mihashi let out small puffs of air that were filled with so much desperation that it made Abe’s stomach flutter ever so slightly. He let his hand move up and grip strands of Mihashi’s hair, strangled cries escaping Mihashi’s throat. The kiss was selfish yet pleasing, messy yet comforting.
Abe was the first to pull away, gazing up at the puppy dog eyes in front of him.
"Ren," Abe murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his own trembling. "I don't know if I can be what you want me to be." His eyes searched Mihashi's for any sign of understanding.
Mihashi looked into Abe's eyes, his own filled with a determination that was both surprising and touching. "But you’re what I want," he said firmly, his voice filled with a newfound strength. "You're what I need."
Abe's expression grew conflicted, the turmoil of his thoughts reflected on his face. "I don't deserve you," he said, his voice cracking. "I'm not good enough."
Mihashi shook his head. "That's not true," he insisted. "You're more than enough for me. And I'm more than just your teammate. I'm here for you, no matter what."
Abe sighed heavily, his grip on Mihashi's hand tightening. He didn't know what to say or do, his mind and heart waging a silent war within him. He had spent so much time running from his feelings, pushing people away, that he didn't know how to accept such raw, unbridled affection.
"I'm scared, Abe," Mihashi whispered, his eyes never leaving Abe's. "I’m scared of losing you again, of what people might say, of ruining everything we've worked for."
Abe looked down at their entwined hands, feeling the warmth of Mihashi's skin against his own. He knew that the fear was real, but he also knew that he couldn't keep running. Not from this.
"I know I'm not perfect," Abe finally said, his voice shaking. "But I care about you, Ren. More than I can even explain. And maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together."
Mihashi's eyes lit up at Abe's words, and he leaned in again, capturing Abe's lips in a gentle kiss. This time, Abe didn't pull away. Instead, he kissed back, finally allowing themselves to feel the love that had been growing between them for so long.
They stood there, in the cold and quiet of the night, holding each other close. The weight of their past, the fear of their future, and the uncertainty of their present all melted away in that single, perfect moment.
Finally, Abe pulled back and rested his forehead against Mihashi's. "I'll try," he whispered. "For you, I'll try."
Before they could bathe in the comfort of each other’s warm presence, the silence was broken by the sound of Tajima.
“Damn it!” Tajima muttered, digging into his pocket and handing Sakaeguchi a twenty-dollar bill.
“I told you Abe wouldn’t make the first move.”
“You bet on us!?” yelled Abe, his cheeks heating up even more as he pushed Mihashi away.
“Yeah, and I lost, so fuck you,” sighed Tajima.
Mihashi couldn't help but chuckle at Tajima's interruption, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sakaeguchi," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Sakaeguchi grinned, taking the money from Tajima without a shred of remorse. "Hey, I had to put my money on something, and you two are the most predictable couple I know."
Abe rolled his eyes, his cheeks still flushed. "We're not a couple," he mumbled, though the protest lacked its usual conviction.
"Yet," Sakaeguchi teased, earning a glare from Abe.
Mihashi stepped closer to Abe, taking his hand again. "But we could be," he said softly, hope glistening in his eyes.
Abe sighed, looking down at their joined hands. "Yeah, we could," he agreed, a small smile playing on his lips. "But let's take it slow, okay?"
Mihashi nodded, understanding the gravity of Abe's words. "As slow as you need, Abe," he promised, his grip on Abe's hand tightening slightly.
“Yuck! Get a room!” teased Tajima, and all Abe could do was kick him in the shin and watch as Tajima limped back inside the restaurant.
Abe was happier now, happier than he’d been in seven years, all because Mihashi was just a phone call away. No other word made his mouth as tender as Mihashi’s.