Chapter Text
Today was just like any other. You wake up, you get ready, you go to baseball practice. You liked baseball. Apart from the fact that you got to absolutely obliterate something with a metal bat and release any pent up anger, you just loved the community, the friends, the passion in the sport that relied on everyone getting their heads out of the clouds for once.
It was where you belonged!
It was where you had always belonged.
I was like a home. Or maybe that’s an overstatement…
Either way, it was a place where professionalism and casualness could merge and create an environment to truly feel happy in.
But that’s enough about baseball. You’re going to be late! Put on your bag! Run, go!!
The baseball diamonds and the baseball club building were on a field not too far from your home, only a few blocks away, so you opted to take your bike. A white, scuffed and well-worn one you’d had for years now, assorted stickers on the frame and a bell on one of the handlebars. Every now and then you’d give your bike a scrub and make it all shiny, but it didn’t take long for it to unravel into what it always would be, again.
You didn’t mind.
You yelled a goodbye to your parents in the general direction of your house, not that they’d hear it; it just felt right to do anyway, and kicked off the ground, beginning to pedal.
Your bat, helmet, and drink bottle all rattled around in your bag, as if fighting, as you glided along. You stuck to the left side of the footpath, and kept an eye out for anyone walking along so you didn’t hit them. No-one was out, (what crazy person is out walking at 6AM??) but it was better to remain alert anyway.
The wind threaded and tussled through your hair and rushed past your ears and you kept going. You checked your watch; “6:23”. Shit. You scratched the back of your neck and squinted your eyes a little, having a small internal battle over if there was a way to avoid turning up fashionably not-on-time.
Keep your eyes up, (user), remember what we said about crashing into people accidentally? It’s not fun and we don’t want to do it. Just keep going, and don’t think about being late. If you run once you get there, you should have time. Should. Maybe.
You look back up and try to pedal faster, the items in your bag a cacophony now.
…or maybe you should do something a little stupid, but a little bit necessary right now if you don’t want to get chewed out by your coach because “You kept everyone waiting.” and “I don’t have time to wait.” and “This sport requires dedication!”.
First (and hopefully last) time you got a lecture, your coach went on for far too long and you were so embarrassed that you wanted nothing more than to pack yourself into a box and send yourself to Antarctica.
If only that were possible.
You chew on your bottom lip and decide that for the greater good (not looking insanely stupid), you’d take the shortcut.
It went through a patch of forest and cut straight through the hill behind the club building, if you got it right, you’d end up right at the front right diamond. From there, it was only a very short home stretch to the back left diamond, the one your team practiced on most days.
The only problem, and why you didn’t take the shortcut all the time was, A: The forest-y bit was typically overgrown and you risked getting scraped by spindly branches on nearby trees or bushes that creeped over the path. And B: The hill was very. VERY. Scary. Even for you. It was normally overrun by rabbits, who’d dash out of your way, so hitting them wasn’t a problem (most of the time), but due to all of the rabbit burrows, it was a bit of a dice roll whether you got a smooth ride down or a very near hurricane-like experience attempting to stay balanced.
But it would be worth it!
Right?
You diverted off the footpath and across the road, into the small area of trees, on the bike path. It was nearly fine and you nearly got out with zero incidents, apart from near the end where it opened up out into the hillside, where a blackberry bush snagged on your shirt and tore it a little.
Minor mishap. Not really an issue. You could ask your dad to stitch it up for you later.
The hill seemed less malicious today, soaring downwards, the wind in your face and the faint smell of pine in the air, the lack of rabbit burrows in your way was making it a rather peaceful and almost joyful experience. Grass rustled beneath the wheels of your bike and the dew left tiny droplets on your shoes, soaking through into your socks (Which you had grown used to, not that you enjoyed it. It was rather unpleasant, you know, having damp socks.). You had your legs out to either side of you, like those people did in movies. The difference being you probably looked a lot less cool doing it, but who cares?!
Apparently, the hill. You being happy and free and whimsical was not on it’s agenda today, and you hit a particularly non visible and surprisingly deep rabbit burrow around the end of the hill.
The tire dropped, naturally, as the surface level of the ground around the front tire suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a rabbit burrow. It, of course, instead of continuing, flung you off and clattered to the ground.
You landed roughly with a “Mmp!”, facefirst. Owch.
You push yourself up off the ground, wipe your face, and wobbly stand back up. You’re alright. Quick analysis: No broken bones, okay, that’s good enough.
You pick your bike back up and hop back on, mumbling under your breath about how rabbits are vermin (You love them, you’re just not pleased at the current moment.). You kick off the ground and pace yourself until you get the diamond your team is meant to be at. You get off your bike, sit it against the fence, and put your bag down on the bench.
You check your watch. “6:27”. All that worry about being late and you turn up early. Wow. Good on you. You go to get your things out of your bag, when you feel someone tap you on the shoulder. You nearly jump. You didn’t hear them approach at all!
You turn around to face them;
“Hey! You’re, uhh.. What was it again.. Oh, (user), right?”
You nod.
“Okay, that’s cool! Good thing you’re early. Sorry to spring this on you so suddenly, but actually, you’ve been moved to a different team. Ergo: My team. I was sent to come fetch you!”
As he’s talking, you take a second to process who exactly is talking to you. He’s around your height, with brown, semi-dyed hair. He has (gorgeous) almond-shaped dark brown eyes, and a mole on his right cheek, just in the corner, under his eye.
“So, we’re just over there-”
He gestures to a diamond across the field.
Off topic, but he has earrings. That’s totally sick! He’s wearing a yellow and red wristband, and has a few plain silver rings on different fingers on his hands. When he talks, you see he has a small gap between his two front teeth.
Oh my stars.
He’s fucking adorable.
… IN A WAY THAT MEANS YOU THINK HE LOOKS COOL AND NOT THAT YOU THINK OF THAT AS LIKE A ROMANTIC THING JUST TO CLARIFY AHAHHAHAHA…Hah…
He waves his hand infront of your face.
“Hellooooo? Anyone in there? Are you coming or not? You’re staring off into space!”
It’s obviously playful, but it catches you off-guard.
“Oh! Uhm. Yeah, sorry, I’ll get my stuff-”
You say quietly, as if not confident enough to speak. Which you are! This hasn’t happened before. This is odd! Maybe it’s just shock from falling off your bike.
“I can help! Let me carry something-”
He follows behind you.
“Oh, uh, no, really, you don’t have to. Thanks, but, I-”
You start and are cut off by him lightly bumping you with his shoulder and giving you a sideways grin.
“Stubborn! So stubborn. Just let me help, dude!”
His eyes are sparkling. He’s just playing around. But it almost seems if he’s examining you, trying to decipher each micro muscle movement in your face, to see how you react. Maybe this is him seeing what you’re cool with. If you’re the kind of person who likes banter and that sort of thing, catfights with friends and lighthearted conversation. If you’re less that and more reserved, more cold.
If you don’t mind physical touch, or if you do mind.
Pushing your buttons in a good way.
Huh.
He’s interesting.
You pause for a second, processing all this.
You don’t want to seem desperate.
And you don’t want to push him away.
You’d like to be his friend! He seems nice. He has this friendly, warm aura to him.
… how about you go for somewhere in the middle and see how it goes?
We’ll try that.
“Pshh.” You roll your eyes in a lighthearted manner.
“Okay.”
He looks you in the eyes. And he must have not been looking at your face earlier, because now, his face drops a little.
“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head.
“Uh.. are you okay? Your nose. Is bleeding.” He looks a tad concerned, inching closer to you.
“Huh? Oh.” You reach up and swipe at your nose; upon inspection of your hand, he was right. “Ah, thanks. One second.” You take a tissue out of your pocket and deal with the nose situation.
“What was that from?” He queries, his expression mellowing out upon knowing you’re alright.
“Oh. Fell off my bike going down the hill. Don’t worry, though.”
You hand him your bag. You’ll let him help you.
“Thanks, by the way.”
That makes him happy. He smiles a little.
Why, exactly? Is beyond you. It’s not like he’d want to be your friend, too.
…Would he?
That’s just wishful thinking.
Get your head in the game, (user)!!
“Well, we should probably go-”
You grab the handlebars of your bike, and start walking it across to the diamond.
“Wait-”
You stop and look over your shoulder at him.
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t.. Tell you my name. I’m sorry. I forgot to!”
He chuckles a little.
“It’s Daisuke Juarez!”
He reaches out a hand.
You reach out your hand to shake his.
“I’m (user.)”
“(user) (insert last name)!”
…
He looks up at you after you retract your hand.
“That was far too formal for me.”
He stifles a laugh. Rude!
“But anyway-”
His eyes sparkle.
“I heard you’re pretty good. We’re super excited to have you on our team!”