Work Text:
Being in the pros honestly isn't that different from playing in high school, except now he’s paid to do what he loves.
Okay, and the training is way more rigorous, and Kousei has a nutritionist and a more detailed training regiment. Kousei has to run a lot more by his agent and the team or management to keep a good image, and there’s less slack on his bad days, even with how understanding they are to not strain his shoulder.
So it’s actually really different from playing in highschool, but Kousei still gets to immerse himself in baseball everyday, so he counts it all as a big win still.
Ding!
Kousei glances at his phone from his position on the examination table, contemplating checking it when the doctor comes back in. He’s an older man, hair graying at his temples, a pair of thick glasses perched low on his nose. He has some crow’s feet and smile lines around his mouth, and Kousei hopes he has the same when he’s older.
He looks kind, but Kousei knows from watching the older players that he can be a whirlwind when they don’t listen to doctor’s orders. It’s why Kousei came in as soon as he felt any discomfort in his shoulder; he didn’t want the “Demon Doctor” hunting him down if he tried to hide a possible injury.
“Right, so everything looks just fine, Amahisa. But still rest that shoulder for the rest of the day and then some light exercise for the next few days to be careful. We don't want any strains before the season begins.” The doctor (Amahisa thinks his name is Yamamoto) smiles easily, already signing off on Kousei’s rest days.
Ding!
He glances back at his phone, and so does Yamamoto, a teasing smile pulling at his lips as he gets the papers in order.
“You sure are popular today, huh? Got yourself a girlfriend?” It’s said in the teasing manner all adults like to tease kids with, and Kousei can’t help the flush on his cheeks. But the smile on his own lips paired with the brush of his fingers against what little of his soulmark pokes out from his rolled sleeve tells its own story.
“Something like that. Sorry, he’s usually not this active during the day. Practice must have been short for him today.”
Yamamoto tilts his head in curiosity, his eyes flicking down briefly to Kousei’s arm before returning to his eyes. “Hmm, I see.” A smile breaks back out, almost fatherly in nature.
That, more than anything, makes the blush darker, though not in embarrassment. Kousei hasn’t told anyone on the team about Eijun except his agent, who wouldn’t have been hired if she wasn’t okay with his soulmate. He’s not ashamed of Eijun, would never be, but he’s a rookie on a new team, and adjusting has been its own challenge without adding soulmates to the mix.
Kousei also doesn’t want to bring any unnecessary attention to Eijun while he’s still in high school. He deserves to finish his last year in peace, with any attention being over his skills than his pro soulmate. They have a brief argument between the two of them whenever he brings it up, but once Eijun is assured it’s for both of their privacy, he’s more amenable to keeping it secret.
It helps their families and friends know, and Kousei is obnoxiously gone for Eijun to the point he’s constantly threatened with paying multiple dentists’ bills.
Kousei can’t wait to show off Eijun to the world once they’re both established in the baseball world, but Kousei also kind of likes having him to himself for now.
But Kousei also wouldn’t outright lie if someone asks him if he’s dating or not. Kousei is a pretty blunt and honest person in general, and he couldn’t let anyone think they have a shot when he has his wonderful soulmate already.
Just thinking about Eijun has Kousei giving his ‘syrupy sweet’ smile his old teammates constantly tease him about. From the corner of his eye, he can see Yamamoto give a faint chuckle as he finishes his paperwork.
“Alright, here’s the paperwork to give Yukimura. Drop it off to him and then take off. You’re not doing any more practice today.” He hands over the papers as Kousei grabs his phone and keys. “And maybe go take that boy of yours out with your new free time.”
Yamamoto has a sly smile that speaks to experience, and Kousei can’t help his own in response as he jumps off the table to head out. “Yeah, yeah, don’t need to tell me twice!”
Kousei grabs his phone which pings with another message and flashes a grin at Yamamoto as he opens it on his way to the locker room. Apparently, Eijun did get out of practice early and wants to video chat that night if he’s free. With a new pep in his step, Kousei opens a tab on his phone even as he dials his agent.
A quick train ride to Tokyo for a day wouldn’t hurt anyone right?
Kousei really loves winning a game, nothing quite like the high of victory, especially when their team is down a few runs until their offense explodes in the seventh inning. Kousei is brought in to close and kill the Swallows’ momentum from returning, and he’s proud to say he delivers.
It also helps to wipe that smug smirk off Miyuki’s face, especially when he continues to strike out at each at bat.
Yes, they have an understanding considering Eijun, but sue him, Kousei’s petty and striking out great batters is always satisfying. Not that he’d ever tell Miyuki he’s good; he’d rather eat a baseball. Which is honestly really gross, so never.
And speaking of Eijun, Kousei could spot him in the bleachers with a few of his teammates. He knows he sent Eijun a couple of tickets to use if he could come out, but it seems Miyuki’s more sentimental than he thought if the small group is any indicator.
It would make getting alone time with Eijun tricky but Kousei doesn’t mind getting dinner with his friends if it makes Eijun happy. And honestly, once Kousei starts talking to a few of them, they’re pretty cool guys.
Except for Kominato. He terrifies Kousei and he’s pretty sure that’s on purpose.
Before he can send out a text to Eijun about dinner, he’s interrupted by his own teammates, loudly screeching over their win.
“Hell yeah, we pulled that out of our asses, but we did it! We should get drinks. I know this great bar close by!”
“You offering to pay?”
“Fuck no, you can pay for yourselves! It’s super cheap!”
Most of the guys are ready to pass out after that grueling game, but a few are raring to go. It’s the guys Kousei mainly hangs out with outside of practice, which is pretty tempting, but he’s got his wonderful soulmate to see, so it’s a no brainer to him.
“What about you Amahisa, you up for some drinks?” their shortstop Hanamura asks, and the others turn to wait for his response.
Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he gives them an apologetic grin. “Sorry man, already got plans tonight.”
“What!? With who?”
“You sly dog, who’s the lucky girl?”
“More like unlucky, ha!”
“Oi! I heard that!” More laughter and Kousei can’t keep his face stern at the ribbing. He really does feel bad bailing, but Kousei just has to picture Eijun’s adorable everything and he doesn’t feel bad anymore. “And it’s a long standing thing. I always see them when I’m in Tokyo.”
“Oh?” Hanamura’s face splits almost in half with his smirk. “Is our little baby pitcher in an actual committed relationship? Some sort of highschool sweethearts shit and everything?”
Kousei’s about to respond when his phone pings a few times in rapid succession. A peek down shows Eijun texted to let him know what restaurant he and his friends are at. He knows he has his whipped smile on when he hears gagging from the guys, a few already starting to shuffle off to the bar.
“Ugh, you look like your phone is made of stars or something, gross. Go have fun with your girlfriend, but you owe us some bar hopping when we get back to Chiba, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah, not like I can drink anyway, remember?”
“It’s about the fucking memories, you little shit. Now go have fun Amahisa, but not too much fun okay? Don’t do anything I would do.”
“That list is too long, Hanamura.”
“Oh shut it, Sugawara! I’m trying to be a good senpai!”
“Ship’s sailed on that front, don’t you think?”
“Not you too, Miya!”
Laughter chases Kousei out as he slips away before he can get swept along anyway. He’s grateful he’s managed to bond with some of the older players, though their habit of dragging him along to bars can be a bit much. It’s led to some fun nights though, so Kousei can’t really complain.
But he can worry about the bender they’ll go on back in Chiba later. Right now he has a soulmate to see, and some friends to win over.
Who is he kidding, Kominato’s still gonna eat him alive. Oh well, the things Kousei does for love.
Now, Kousei wants it known for the record, he ran everything by the appropriate people and he’s not actively hiding anything from his team. But he probably didn’t think through how it was going to look to everyone that he’s technically skipping practice during their week off before the postseason starts.
Which, wow, it still baffles Kousei that in his first season he’s made it to the postseason. Like he didn’t get to pitch as much as he wanted, mainly closing most games, but Kousei still got to play, and now he can say he’s made it this far.
Kousei hopes the next time he’s here, he’ll be a starter.
But back to his current dilemma, he knows it’s a risky move with games so soon, but it’s Eijun’s last time at nationals, and Kousei promised he would try and catch at least one game. It also just so happens it’s the finals, so he really can’t miss it.
And he knows he could miss it and Eijun wouldn’t blame him at all. He knows he’s a pro now and he has responsibilities, but Kousei doesn’t want to put Eijun on the backburner if he can help it. They can’t always see each other and be there for the big moments, but if they don’t try, then what’s the point? Kousei may love baseball with every fiber of his being, but he also doesn’t want to do baseball without Eijun, so he’s going to try for as many moments as he can.
And the finals game of nationals in your last year in highschool is a big fucking deal, practice be damned.
Well, that’s what he tells his agent, and after many long-suffering sighs, she pulls her magic to get the day off for him. Kousei really hopes he gets big enough soon that he can give her a raise. Tanaka is a saint for dealing with him.
The coaches are pretty understanding too when he pulls the soulmate card. Though he kept it hush which player he was going to root for. Kousei will brag to the moon and back about Eijun, but he knows Eijun wants to make it on his own merits, not his connection to Kousei, which he can understand. Plus, with how talented Eijun is, he won’t need those connections to have his pick of a team when he graduates college.
However, what he doesn’t account for is his teammates hunting him down, or at least trying to while he’s on a train to Nishinomiya, to answer why he’s not at practice.
Which, whoops? He knows he missed a step in his plan to see Eijun play, but he doesn’t expect it to be this dramatic.
Hana-hana: dude, where r u?
Hana-hana: the coaches r gunna be sooo mad at u!
Sugar Man: lol Hanamura is freaking out. Dumbass can’t tell the coaches haven’t even mentioned you. Hope whatever you’re doing is worth missing our beautiful faces!
Myan: if you give hanamura an ulcer with this stunt im buying your first drink when you turn twenty im not even joking hes so purple
Miya’s text makes Kousei chuckle. The catcher always for anything that causes chaos. He quickly pulls up their group chat to make sure Hanamura doesn’t actually get an ulcer, even if a free drink when he becomes legal is tempting.
Me: okay, Hanamura chill out, I got permission from the coaches to miss today’s practice so I’m not gonna get in trouble
Hana-hana: HE LIVES!!
Hana-hana: also wtf do u mean u got permission?? Where the fuck r u???
Me: I’m heading to koshien stadium
Hana-hana: but why????
Sugar Man: I’m also curious why.
Myan: ^^^
Me: it’s my boyfriend’s last game so I’m going to cheer him on!
Sugar Man: That’s really sweet, Amahisa, which school does he go to?
Hana-hana: WHAT
Myan: wait isnt it the finals today his school must be really strong congrats
Hana-hana: BOYFRIEND???
Hana-hana: R WE JUST GUNNA IGNORE THAT PART???
Sugar Man: We already knew he was dating someone, I don’t know why you’re this surprised Hanamura.
Hana-hana: BECAUSE THIS IS A BETRAYAL
Myan: lol how did our baby pitcher betray you you dramatic asshat
Hana-hana: WE COULD HAVE BEEN CECKING OUT BOYS TOGTEHR TOO
Myan: hes in a relationship so he wouldnt have anyway
Hana-hana: if i knew boys were on the table i could have had him rate them for me too, amahisa how dare you hold out on me i thought we were bros
Sugar Man: Well now you know, so he can watch you strike out against men too.
Hana-hana: SUGA WHY DO U ATTACL ME
Myan: because its too fucking easy lol
Hana-hana: MIYA YOU BITHC
Me: also my boyfriend is the cutest ever so any guy that’s not him just doesn’t compare, I’d rank them all zeroes tbh
Hana-hana: wow, such whipped behavior, not even a few 3s??
Me: I’ve literally been on a double date with one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and I felt nothing, so yeah
Myan: damn he got it bad good for him ignore hanamura hes just chronically single
Hana-hana: I will not accept this slander, next bar night you're helping me score a date Amahisa, that’s the bro code!!
Sugar Man: Don’t be mad the rookie has more pull than you Hanamura, I doubt he can help you.
Me: I mean I don't mind trying but I don't know how helpful I'll be when you're pickup lines are that bad
Myan: HA
Hana-hana: THE SLANDER
Sugar Man: I think you mean the truth.
Hana-hana: SUGAWARA U TRAUTOR
Sugar Man: Anyway have fun at Koshien Amahisa, we'll take care of this dumbass. Send my regards to your boyfriend, I hope he wins!
Hana-hana: U FIYDJFN
Myan: got him don't worry Amahisa have fun
Me: thank you I will!!
Kousei puts his phone away, turning back to the scenery passing by. Soon he'll get to see Eijun dominate at nationals and win for his second year in a row, because baseball may have a lot of luck involved, but he knows Eijun can make miracles from the edge of tragedies.
He might be wrong, and he'll have to console Eijun after falling from so high, but he has more faith that Seidou will come out victorious. It's part his love for Eijun and part leftover pettiness over them winning in his senior year.
If they had the guts to beat him and his team, they better win all the glory.
(Seidou wins and Kousei feels incredibly vindicated seeing Eijun carried off the field by his teammates, a national champion again.
He's high on the adrenaline for a game he never played, but watching Eijun cry tears of joy as he hugs his batchmates at the end of their high school career, he's feeling too much and not enough for this game that brought them together. A game that became more than just winning when he can feel the same surge of joy watching his soulmate shine instead of himself.
Kousei feels like he won his own championship, grabbing his phone to snap a picture, sending it to the group chat to watch the mayhem before he has to go find Eijun and congratulate him in person.
Me: [image.jpg]
Me: looks like I'm dating a national champ <3<3
Hana-hana, Myan, and Sugar Man are typing…)
They don't win in the postseason, but Kousei has some solid starts throughout the season, enough that talks of starting him more in the next year have been flying. He’s proud of himself, but Eijun is also proud of him, which just creates a feedback loop for Kousei to enjoy.
Now that the season is done, Kousei has more free time to see Eijun, which he would be doing if his wonderful but sadistic manager hadn’t signed him up for a photoshoot instead of buying his tickets to Tokyo like he asked.
Tanaka is lucky she’s such a great manager, or he would have had a fit over waiting longer to see Eijun's face.
It wasn’t a horrible shoot, and Kousei does like that he gets to keep the clothes since he’s been meaning to buy a new jacket anyway, but he still grumbles to Tanaka on the phone as he gets out of his taxi.
“And there was no one fun to talk to, Tana-chan! Like I get we’re there to do a job, but no one smiled, like at all! If you're gonna make me do these, can it at least be with fun people?”
“I’ll try to keep that in mind as I make you deals that keep us both paid.”
Kousei pays his driver and waves as he drives away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear you. Not everything can be fun. But come on, at least one person that knows what a smile is can’t hurt, right?”
He gets a genuine laugh for his effort, and Kousei knows Tanaka isn’t actually annoyed with him. Kousei knows he can be a lot, but he’s grateful to have a manager that understands him and tolerates his eccentricities.
“I’ll make a note of that. Anyway, I get to tell you now that you are free for the rest of the week. So if you wish to travel, just be careful not to injure yourself or cause a public incident, got it? And forward me any travel plans so I know where to find you if need be.”
“Ma’am yes ma’am! Thanks, Tana-chan, you’re the best!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Tell Sawamura I say hello.”
“I will!” Kousei hangs up and races up the stairs with a pep in his step, almost running into his neighbor in his rush. “Oh! Sorry, Mina-san. I should have looked where I was going.”
The small older woman waves Kousei off. “Oh, it’s no problem Ama-kun. Considering the sweet boy at your apartment, I can guess why you’d be rushing home.” She gives him a sly smile, a hand coming up to cover her snickers, as her words finally register to him.
“Wait, a sweet boy? Was he about this high, messy brown hair and eyes like the sun?”
Mina pats him on the arm before pushing him down the hall. “Ah, young love is always so sweet. Now go on. It wouldn’t do to keep him waiting, and tell that nice boy I’m sorry for spoiling his surprise.”
“I don’t think he’ll mind too much. Eijun’s sweet like that. I’ll bring him over for tea one day, Mina-san. I know you’ll love him!” Kousei’s already unlocking the door when he hears Mina wish him a good evening, the smell of stew hitting his nose once it’s fully open. He sprints down the hallway, kicking his shoes off haphazardly in his rush to get to the kitchen.
And there, in front of his stove turning to face him, wearing the cutest apron ever, is Eijun with a startled expression. It quickly turns into a soft smile, his smile. “Welcome home, Kousei!”
Kousei’s feeling too much, and for once he has no words, only actions, as he scoops Eijun into his arms. He gets a laugh for his actions and can’t help holding on even tighter. He hears the stove being turned off, and then arms are sliding around him keeping him just as close.
Kousei really hopes this isn’t a dream. The smell from Eijun’s shampoo tells him it isn’t.
He slowly slips back to hold Eijun at arms length to get a better look at him. He looks smug and happy, one of Kousei’s favorite looks on him. “How are you here? Didn’t you have exams?”
Eijun’s hands slide to Kousei’s back, bringing him a bit closer again. “I wanted to surprise you, so I managed to snag the earlier time slot! Which meant more studying in less time, but Kanemaru helped after I bribed him a little. My next exam isn’t for another two weeks, so I figured a quick trip to see you would be fine. And I even coordinated with Tanaka-san so it wouldn’t interfere with your schedule!”
His phone pings with a new message, and while he would usually ignore it with Eijun in his arms (because come on, he’s so warm and actually here), the mischievous grin Eijun gives him tells him he should check it.
Tanaka-san: [Itinerary.pdf]
Tanaka-san: I hope you told Sawamura I said hello.
Opening the file shows Kousei two train tickets to Tokyo for tomorrow afternoon, one for him and one for Eijun. He can’t stop the tears as they well up, a laugh bubbling through his lips as he turns to Eijun. “Tanaka says ‘hi’.”
Eijun just smiles, wiping Kousei’s tears away before placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. “Go get changed. Dinner will be ready soon. I’m making your favorite! I visited your parents so they could show me how to make it, I think I got it pretty close this time!”
No one can really blame him for crying even more at that, Eijun laughing as he consoles him.
(And if he calls his parents later to blubber at them over the sweet gesture, then it’s only between the three of them, though he thinks Eijun knows anyway with the pings he gets on his own phone.
He can’t be mad though, holding his soulmate in his bed, the extra futon they made out of courtesy abandoned in the living room. Kousei just feels so warm, and it’s easily the best sleep he’s ever had.
And yeah, he does send Tanaka dozens of flowers in thanks. He’ll never be able to thank her enough.)
Kousei manages to snag a last minute train ride to the West Tokyo Finals. After a losing streak in the summer, Ichidai finally managed to hit their stride to make it to the end. They're going against Seidou, of all schools, but no matter his love for Eijun, Kousei has to cheer for his underclassmen.
The few games he's managed to keep tabs on tell him Terui has finally grown into the ace number, and he can't wait to see it in person.
(And of course seeing Eijun will be the cherry on top of Ichidai's win.)
Kousei keeps his cap low, not wanting to garner any attention. He's usually fine with fans flocking to him, but today isn't about him. It’s about supporting his old school and seeing them become champions again.
He manages to get through the crowd easily, spotting Hoshida among the sea of faces. To the left of him, he sees Seidou’s old shortstop Kuramochi.
That's right, they're teammates now, Kousei thinks to himself as he makes his way to them.
Upon getting closer, he can see a few more Ichidai alumni mixed in with the clan of Seidou, ranging from current third years to their own alumni.
Next to Kuramochi is his worse half Miyuki, a smarmy smirk already on his face once he notices Kousei’s approach. He gets a slap on the leg from Kuramochi, who doesn't outright glare at him, but doesn't smile, which is still progress.
Kousei knows it’ll take more to win over Eijun’s self-proclaimed older brother.
And speaking of Eijun, he's there, sitting in front of Miyuki with the other Seidou third years to his left and in front of him, the seat to his right open. Kousei slides into it as he gives his greetings, gently tapping Eijun’s shoulder as he does.
The response is immediate, though subdued due to their location. Eijun's smile is the sun peeking out from overcast clouds, brightening Kousei’s day just by existing. He grabs Kousei’s hand, leaning closer to catch him up on the first inning he missed.
Kousei can see Kominato give a fond but exasperated look at them from Eijun’s other side before turning to his batchmates. The others all give him nods in greeting, with Furuya having a small glare attached. He doesn't remember if he upset the other pitcher lately, but Kousei recalls how protective the other is over Eijun and lets it be.
Tuning back to Eijun, Kousei learns the score is still tied at zero. The batters are doing well, but each defense holds the line strong with struggling pitchers.
“Kuki is doing good, but he's too stiff! He needs to loosen up, or he'll never hit a good rhythm!” Eijun huffs as he leans closer to Kousei, his hand moving from Kousei’s own to the crook of his elbow. It sparks a giddy feeling somewhere in Kousei’s chest.
“HA! That's rich coming from you, Sawamura, how many times did we need to calm you down on the mound during games?” Miyuki’s nasally laugh chimes in along with Kuramochi’s words.
Eijun side-eyes the two behind him. “Yeah, when I was in second year. And this is about Kuki, who I know is calmer than this!”
Kominato cuts in before Kuramochi and Eijun can get going. “I wonder if it's delayed stress. Like you were nervous towards the beginning of our seasons, but maybe he's the opposite. And I guess we never noticed because he mostly pitched in the beginning of our seasons when the pressure wasn't as bad.”
“I guess that makes sense. Not only that, but Toujou and I never had the chance to catch games of his after we graduated, so we couldn't say how he reacted to being the ace after we left,” the blonde in front of Furuya, Kanemaru he thinks, chimes in. The other blonde, who Kousei would bet money is Toujou, on the other side nods along in agreement.
“Hmm, it’s wolf boy catching right now, so he’ll probably call for a break soon𑁋” The umpire calling out a break as Okumura trots to the pitcher’s mound cuts Eijun off. “And there he goes, about time!”
“There goes that scary intuition of yours Eijun.” Kominato gives a sharp smile, but it's still fond. Kousei isn't quite sure how he pulls that off. “You were always good at reading our catchers and pitchers.”
Eijun crosses his arms with a smug grin. “Wolf boy and I were battery partners. Of course I know his tells!” Eijun’s smile softens as he gazes out to the field, Okumura and Kuki tapping gloves before he jogs back to home plate. “He overthinks a lot, but that's because he pays a lot of attention to us pitchers. He knows how to adjust his style of play for each one but is firm in how he steers them. That's what makes him such a great leader on the field.”
Kousei could spy shocked faces on the alumni but knowing ones on his batchmates. It must have been a surprise to hear such in-depth analysis from their former “loudmouth ace,” but Kousei knows that Eijun is constantly thinking about the sport and how to improve.
They all grew up, just not all together.
A small voice pipes up in the silence. “Then why didn't you recommend him for captain when we retired?”
It’s Furuya, though it looks like everyone else is also curious for the answer, especially Miyuki and Kuramochi, the two watching the exchange like hawks.
Eijun hums, his gaze never leaving the field, his hand briefly tightening on Kousei’s arm. Kousei moves it closer for comfort.
“I did actually. I gave Boss two names when he asked for my recommendation: Yui and Okumura.” Kousei sees him look towards the dugout where Yui is talking to their coach, gesturing to the field. “I told him both would do good but in different ways. Yui is good with people. He knows how to talk to everyone, and if he doesn't at first, he learns. He's very consistent in his plays and is never afraid to admit he needs to work on something.
“Okumura isn't a people person, but his plays speak for themselves. He gets results, and his steady presence on the field is always felt. He doesn't sugarcoat anything, but he says what he means with good intentions. Both would be good choices, but I chose Yui because I thought he was more suited to lead the team so Okumura could focus on the bullpen.”
Eijun turns in his seat to face Miyuki, a sheepish but stern look in place. “You did your best, Miyuki-senpai, but I think if we can split the responsibilities of captain and main catcher, we should. And honestly, I was hoping that Yui and Okumura would work together more like co-captains, which I'm glad to see is what happened.”
Miyuki’s lips quirk up to a smirk, but it's gentle, not sharp. “No offense taken, Sawamura. I think you made the right call, and it looks to be working, for the most part.”
That makes Eijun beam, the pure joy at getting a compliment from Miyuki palpable. Kousei wants to feel a little jealous, but even he knows it's hard to get Miyuki to give a straight compliment to anyone, even Kuramochi, his own soulmate.
Besides, Kousei is the one Eijun is snuggled up to, so who's the real winner here?
Kousei feels a tug on his arm, turning his head to face Eijun, who is smiling sweetly. “Hi, Kousei.”
He feels an answering smile tug up on its own. “Hi, Eijun.”
“Ready to see Seidou be champions again?”
Kousei hears a choked off laugh come from behind him. He thinks it might be Kuramochi.
“Only if you're ready to see Ichidai punch their ticket this time.”
A different laugh, deeper, probably Hoshida, but it doesn't even register with Eijun’s giggles in his ears. It's the friendliest banter they've had over their schools’ rivalry, mostly because they're both retired now, Kousei a pro and Eijun working towards his choice of college. It's competitive but gentle, a fire that burns low, not raging but never out.
(“Oh god, are they always like this?” Kousei thinks it’s the red head siddled up next to Kanemaru.
“You have no idea.” Speaking of Kanemaru, rude.)
It's nice to sit here and cheer for their respective teams, even if both of them would love to be on the field themselves. They've had their chance and now it's time to cheer on the next generation, to give them support as they figure themselves out.
A loud crack breaks through, and it sounds long, all of them turning to see it going, going, gone.
And with that, the real game can begin.
(Later, the third years and alumni will all go out to eat where it'll be chaotic and loud. Where plays will be analyzed and groaned over, then praised and cheered over.
They'll tell stories of practices, of games, of victories and losses.
They'll tell the stories of their baseball, the game that brought them all together, one pitch at a time.)
The streets are lined in pink, petals falling in a gentle breeze with the sun shining extra bright, as if it knows its twin on earth is experiencing a momentous day.
It’s Eijun’s graduation, and Kousei couldn’t be prouder of him.
They go back and forth about whether Kousei should come, but after many reassurances that Kousei won’t have any spring training and no events scheduled by Tanaka, Eijun relents to him coming. Even if he did have something scheduled, Kousei’s pretty confident in his ability to get out of it to support Eijun, but he’s thankful he doesn’t need to test that just yet.
There are families flocking the streets of Tokyo, all with wide smiles and wild cheers, graduates celebrating everywhere. Kousei’s keeping an eye out for the restaurant he’s meeting Eijun’s parents at as he scrolls through his last messages with his soulmate.
While he initially wanted to meet Eijun at his school and take the train together to the restaurant, he ultimately decides against it, knowing Eijun will be having his own emotional farewells with his teammates. Eijun had told him how much he cried when he said goodbye to the batch of players before him, so Kousei could only imagine how he will be saying goodbye to his own batchmates and the underclassmen he’s helped these past three years.
Kousei knows he takes being an upperclassman seriously, and even if he doesn’t always get it right, Eijun always wants to do his best to help those who seek his advice. Even if they’re reluctant, like Okumura, he still wants to give them his all, because Eijun always believes in the best of people. It’s what made him such a good ace and captain. Kousei knows he was sought out plenty even after he retired.
And now those kids have to say goodbye, and Eijun would be right there to let them cry and cry with them, his heart too big for everyone he knows.
Kousei makes sure to pack some tissues just in case.
Arriving at the restaurant, Kousei checks in with the hostess and is directed to the private room Eijun’s parents reserved for their dinner. Once he makes his way there, Kousei opens the sliding door to see Eijun’s parents seated and his grandfather ordering some drinks from the waiter, the most exasperated look on his mother’s face. Eijun’s face lights up when he spots Kousei, waving him over. He makes his way over to the table, calling his greetings as he sits in the available spot to Eijun’s right.
“Glad to see you made it, kid! Hey, remind me, are you old enough to drink just yet?” Sawamura Eitoku is still as loud and excitable as Kousei remembers from last winter, even more so with a little sake in him, the red flush on his cheeks highlighting his giant grin.
“Eitoku-san, he’s still only nineteen!” Akari sighs at her father in law, more than used to his antics, but shoots Kousei a gentle smile that barely contains her joy. It’s not everyday your only child graduates high school. “Don’t mind him, Kousei-kun. He’s in a celebratory mood.”
“Of course he is. Our Eijun’s graduating! He’s so big now!” Eijiro is usually pretty flamboyant, but right now he’s a sobbing mess, switching between cradling Eijun against him and flipping through a small album of Eijun as a child. Eijun, for the most part, looks resigned to his fate but keeps trying to snatch the album anytime it comes near him, a faint blush highlighting his own tears.
They paint the funniest picture, but Kousei can see so much love between them all and so much joy at what Eijun’s accomplished.
They may be celebrating Eijun’s graduation on the surface, but he knows they’re also celebrating his entire journey to this moment.
From those hesitant explorative steps out of Nagano to those awkward first steps to Tokyo. From his first disastrous moments on Seidou’s practice fields to his first splash of a practice game. From confusing first impressions to making friends, bonds, comrades in arms in the race to make nationals. From crushing defeats to the sweep of victories. From everything baseball took to what it eventually gave back.
From following a dream to making hopes reality.
Kousei doesn’t know if Eijun’s family knows everything he’s experienced in his three years of high school, but they know their son. They know he’s a lot, but even if people don’t see who he is at first, they’ll see how bright he can shine once given the chance.
They believed in him, every step of the way, and now they see what he’s accomplished, and Kousei can feel their love and pride in every hair ruffle and hug they throw at him. It makes Kousei miss his own parents, and he’s glad he plans to see them later tonight when he crashes with them for the night.
Before he can think farther, Eitoku clears his throat, then shouts at everyone to hush when his son’s wailing doesn’t quiet down. Once he has their attention, he holds up his empty cup, squawking when he realizes it needs to be filled again. “Wait, I need more sake for the toast! Gimme a second.”
Eitoku pours himself a generous cup, refilling his son’s glass too and grumbling when Akari covers her own, saying her water will be fine for the toast. He arches his eyebrow at Kousei, who happily drags his water closer to himself so Eitoku can’t spike it. Kousei gets a snort in response but an approving nod, so Kousei figures he passes some sort of test.
“Alright, alright, everyone at least has something to drink. I’ll take it. Anyway…” Eitoku straightens up, gaze landing on Eijun, at first hard and then softening with every word. “Damn, I had all these words, but now I can’t really remember them. I guess I’ll just start with saying that I’m so damn proud of you kid. You really did it.”
He sniffles a bit but plows on, the habit one Kousei recognizes in Eijun easily. “And I really mean that, Eijun. I, we are so proud of what you’ve done. You were so scared to leave Nagano, to leave everything you knew, but you did it. You did it. You were fifteen, but you decided a dream was worth chasing, and look where you are now!”
Eitoku’s got tears streaming down his face but the widest smile Kousei’s ever seen. He sees the others tearing up as well, but Eijun’s already sobbing, clutching his water tightly, his eyes never leaving his grandfather.
“You’re a four-time regional and two-time national champion! Most of that was as your team’s ace and some as its captain too! You’ve played with draft picks and with visiting Americans. You’ve learned so much and continue to grow, even when others in your situation would have quit at the challenge, but you thrived in it.” Here he gets a little quieter, his smile smaller but just as tender and joyful. “I know it wasn’t easy, that you didn’t tell us of every mountain you climbed and every fall you had, and that’s okay. You still got back up, bared your teeth, and proved your grit.
“Eijun, my boy, my crazy grandson,” Eitoku wipes at his eyes, his gaze never leaving Eijun for a second, “looking at where you started and where you’re going, I couldn’t be more proud of you. Your parents and I love you so much, and we can’t wait to see where you go next. Congrats on your graduation!”
Everyone raises their glasses, Kousei included, as he tries hard to keep his own tears at bay, though he can see everyone else has given up on trying, Eijun most of all. As soon as Eitoku gulps down his drink, he has an armful of Eijun, who’s wailing at how nice his grandfather’s words are for once, which sets them both off on a tangent Kousei has no hope of following. Somehow, Eijiro gets roped in, and the three Sawamura men are a loud sobbing mess. Akari sips her water resigned.
Akari meets Kousei’s eyes and they crinkle, as if to say, ‘what can you do,’ a content lilt to her expression. “And this is why we booked a private room. I can’t take them anywhere like this.”
She giggles and Kousei joins her, content to watch this family that clearly loves each other celebrate his soulmate. He’s so proud of Eijun, of what he’s done and what he’ll do in the future, and being surrounded by people who feel the same leaves him with so much warmth, he might just melt.
Instead, he refills Akari’s glass, and they clink theirs together, catching up what’s new from his training schedule to the latest gossip from Akari’s book club. And when the Sawamura men are done crying it out, they rejoin the festivities, everyone shouting over the other to tell the most embarrassing story of Eijun as a kid.
Eijun’s face is beet red as he corrects his family’s exaggerated storytelling, Eitoku and Eijiro swearing by their memories, Akari snorting her water out of her nose after a particularly funny blunder of Eijun’s as a child. It’s loud and messy and all over the place in their own Sawamura fashion.
Kousei wishes he could stay in this moment forever.
But even though he can’t, Kousei’s grateful he’ll get more of these moments, more of these celebrations, just more of Eijun and his family and every way he can fit among them.
Finding your soulmate isn’t just about the person you’re tied to, it’s about the people they connect you to as well, and Kousei couldn’t be more grateful to be connected to the sun that is Eijun and all the planets that orbit him.
The world’s never felt so vast and full, even on the pitcher’s mound he and Eijun love to monopolize, the possibilities endless in the face of Eijun’s smile.
Intertwining his hand with Eijun as he joins in on the laughter, it’s a feeling Kousei hopes he’ll never get used to.