Chapter Text
Miyuki Kazuya Is A Little Bitch
The midnight was transient; brief and impermanent. Each weary night felt like a breeze turned morning. Eijun Sawamura already knew it long ago; the load of being a professional baseball player.
Sawamura heaved a deep breath, grazing the back of his forearm on his set of eyes. It has been a few months ever since he had professionally joined the Tokyo Yakult Swallows. It was his dream, to stand on the mound and be the ace of his team. Now, in a more professional setting. (Sawamura tried his best not to explode in excitement when he was scouted. He knew the Swallows had great players.)
The bed linens creased in every slight movement he took. Sawamura was not used to the lavish environment, but it was nice— feeling all comfortable. The dormitory was great; it looked like an actual condominium. Of course, this is the Swallows.
Eijun Sawamura was a second-pick; the overall second choice, the dark horse of their draft. He was used to being chosen second, especially during his time at Seidou. But it did not make him less confident; in fact, it gave him more strength.
He had been staring at the ceiling fan for almost half an hour. Anyone could tell the loud Sawamura Eijun has grown up. He already knew the weight of being a professional player on his shoulders especially with the piles and piles of leagues scouting him.
But there was always something bugging him— a thought, something he had repulsed away in the back of his mind. A person he had long respected for— his one and only partner, Miyuki Kazuya.
His senior had also been scouted in the same league as him way before. Miyuki Kazuya... A person he valued so much— and a person who disappeared right after his graduation. He let out a long, steadying breath, "Miyuki Kazuya, you handsome tanuki..." He almost clenched his hair out from obsessively sounding the vowels of the name about 14 times.
He has to work hard to become one of the starting lineups. He badly wanted Miyuki Kazuya to catch his pitches. Sawamura shook his head to shake off his excitement.
His phone briefly buzzed, vibrating near his rear. Sawamura lazily took the phone and unlocked it, jumping at the realization it was a message. A message— a message from his old partner. A rare sight, really. Kazuya was never the one to send a message first, nor did Sawamura. Sawamura simply tagged along with Kuramochi when he hung out with Kazuya. (Picture a tail-wagging Sawamura in front of a snorting Kuramochi and Kazuya.)
[Miyuki Kazuya]: Heard you joined the Swallows.
[Miyuki Kazuya]: Kinda excited about what you'll have up your sleeves once you're on that mound.
Sawamura felt his cheeks warm at the messages. He inhaled sharply before hammering the screen with his calloused fingers, almost breaking the glass with his passionate energy.
[Eijun Sawamura]: ILL AHVE U KNOW I MASTERED THE NUMEBRS!!! ILL SHOW EM TO YOU RIGHT NOW!!! WHERE R U???
[Miyuki Kazuya]: I guess you forgot how to spell then, idiot. Show me when you're in the starting lineup.
Sawamura almost threw his phone.
[Eijun Sawamura]: THATS WAY TOO DAMN LONG!!! I CANT WAIT MIYUKI KAZUYAAAAAAA!!!
[Eijun Sawamura]: YOU DISAPPEAR AND NOW YOURE GOING TO MAKE ME WAIT TO SEE U???
[Miyuki Kazuya]: Hmm? You miss me so much, don't you? Does my little junior want to see his senior so much?
[Eijun Sawamura]: SHUT UP MIYUKI KAZUYA!!! YOURE STILL TERRIBLE AS EVERRRR!!!
[Eijun Sawamura]: and so u know im not the same kid you knew at Seidou ur an asshole kazuya
[Miyuki Kazuya]: Not all uppercase anymore?
[Miyuki Kazuya]: If you miss me so much, then come find me. I'm in the underclassman building. Entertain me.
His eyes lit up.
[Eijun Sawamura]: IM NOT UR TOY TO PLAY WITHHH BUT WHATEVER IM COMING DOWN!!!
He meticulously turned the phone off and immediately covered his not-so-obvious poker face. Is he really in the building? A stupid thought. He pondered but instinctively took his hoodie and wore it outside.
The usually-not-so-quiet hallways felt deafening; it was quite a sight, really. The building was always bustling with first-years and their determination to improve everyday to eventually play baseball in larger tournaments. Sawamura eventually spotted a figure in the distance near a vending machine. A sound— footsteps so familiar, he cannot even understand why he would know that. To his surprise, a sight to behold— his favorite upperclassman and old partner.
He tiptoed behind the catcher who was wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants, an attire he was accustomed to years ago. A casual attire was not uncommon for Miyuki Kazuya. Yet, he always looked so damn handsome. Sawamura swiftly tackled Kazuya from behind. "MIYUKI KAZUYAA!!!" The pitcher roared.
"Oi! You're really testing me today, Bakamura..." Kazuya retorted. He has grown a lot since Sawamura last saw him. Such a difference in such a short time, or not so short time— perhaps, growing older made you forget how time starts to feel so precious in your palms. Has his face actually looked this mature or has Kazuya completely lost his marbles? Perhaps, both. Time is cruel and unforgiving.
Kazuya immediately took his arm and used his body weight to shove Sawamura off-balance, effectively turning the tables around to his advantage. He then remarked with a devilishly sly grin, and tickled Sawamura until he was on his knees. The pitcher burst into forced laughter and immediately snapped back, "BAKAYUKIII, STOP IT, YOU SADIST!!!"
Kazuya stood upright and a familiar mischievous tug on his lips formed, taking his canned drink from the vending machine. Sawamura whined on the ground as he rappled his remaining sanity to clench his sides.
"Still so whiny.." Kazuya encited. Sawamura felt his whole face burn, remembering how Kazuya would often tease him until he bawled his eyes and remaining brain cells out. Sawamura then shot back with the same disgust in his first-year, "AND YOU'RE STILL AN EVIL TANUKI!!!"
Miyuki Kazuya grinned in his usual foxy-like smirk. "I thought you said you weren't the same kid in Seidou," he mused, "I can't seem to find it." Kazuya spoke, examining the physical changes in his favorite junior. He grew a lot. He lost some of his baby fat in his face but still wore that same tail-up-happy-go-lucky-puppy expression every time he talked to Kazuya. Everyone in their team at Seidou could practically see his tail wag at the sight of Kazuya. (MIYUKI KAZUYAAA, CATCH MY BALLSS! a certain voice howling in his ears— or rather, memories.)
Still adorable. He thought in his mind. He heaved a sigh, thinking how he truly did miss this idiot. His odd pitching, half-baked batting, and a face he wanted to—
"HEY! I CHANGED A LOT, YOU KNOW!" Sawamura retorted as he stood up, always in an energetic move. Like a puppy who was agitated barking as loud as he can. He was tall but still a few centimeters shorter than Kazuya. He had a lean build— wide, flexible shoulders great for pitching. A thicker but decent arms for throwing, and a more mature look. He looked more like an adult now, or almost an adult. (Still got that same energy.) Kazuya couldn't believe it, questioning whether to feel amaze or bittersweet.
"Is that so? I guess you can say I did too. But I always stayed amazing." Kazuya snorted. Sawamura glared at him blankly, "Egoistic asshole..." An expression too amusing not to laugh at on Kazuya's part. With an idea up his sleeve, a certain upperclassman was plotting.
Kazuya rested an arm around Sawamura's shoulder. The pitcher felt his whole body burn at the touch, especially his face. Miyuki could see that very well. The pitcher could feel the strong bicep casually pressed around his shoulder, the urge to feel more of this skin sends shivers down Sawamura's spine. (Sawamura is quite vulnerable to sudden touches and tickling, especially tickling. Kuramochi discovered this in his first-year— and absolutely made use of the interesting information.)
Kazuya chuckled, pleased with himself, "Hm? I thought you missed me. What made you so quiet now, Sawamura?~" A sly flick on the forehead with his free hand.
Sawamura pressed his eyebrows together in response, careful to hide his flustered expression, "'Cause you're invading my personal space and being an asshole of an upperclassman...." Desperately, he tried to nudge him away. Unfortunately, he was never going to win this argument.
Miyuki raised an eyebrow and wrestled his urge to chortle right infront of Sawamura, "Didn't you always invade my personal space back in Seidou? (You're so rude to your upperclassman...)" He shot a daring glare at Sawamura at the side of his glasses. He always had such piercing eyes that could slit your heart if you were too close. That was one of his best physical attributes as commented upon from his fans besides his already handsome face. A set of brown orbs always daring to push you to your limits to reach your absolute potential matched with his sheer intensity as a catcher in a baseball game.
"T—that's diff— WHAT DO YOU MEAN INVADE?! I NEVER DID THAT!!!" The pitcher shot back with absolute fury, almost as if there was fire animatedly burning behind him.
Kazuya let out a good laugh. "You really do entertain me well, Sawamura." Kazuya let his aching hand (a hand so desperate to pinch those cheeks) through the pitcher's brown dark hair, inducing an involuntarily sharp, jagged flinch out of Sawamura. An incident that even made Sawamura surprised-flustered by his own reaction, now wearing an embarrassed cat-like glare at Kazuya.
Sawamura stared at him for a moment, observing his upperclassman as if he was waiting for more compliments— better acknowledgements out of him. It felt like a long time ago since he felt a solid acknowledgement from Kazuya. Even in his first-year at Seidou, his heart and pride thirsted for his recognition. He immediately looked away the second Kazuya caught on, a miscalculation made on Sawamura's side. Immediately, a hue of a newly bought red popsicle bloomed across his face— a sight that made Kazuya clutch his remaining marbles of the night. Of course— Miyuki Kazuya could not easily give in.
Kazuya poked his nose with a teasing finger, "Let's grab a drink outside. You don't have practice until the afternoon tomorrow." It made Sawamura jolt in irritated embarrassment. Kazuya relished in the reactions he steered out of Sawamura. The night was young— fresh enough to maneuver more responses out of poor Sawamura.
Sawamura blinked in pure innocence. "Uh— I can drink outside? Won't the building manager scold me?" It was so easy to read him as his own thoughts were literally plastered on his face. It made Kazuya almost choke in laughter, adoring such a display of virtue in front of him.
"That's why you're going to make an excuse—" Kazuya was rudely interrupted.
"Such an evil tanuki. Always being such a bad influence..." Sawamura fought himself to not strangle the bad influence himself. Unfortunately, a strange shiver or a hunch made him not throttle his upperclassman.
Kazuya tightened his arm around Sawamura and sighed, making the pitcher question his sudden shuddering body if they were going to make it through the remaining night, "Then I'll vouch for you. Deal?" A voice that somehow always made Sawamura obey no matter the resistance his own mouth spew out.
Sawamura lazily uttered, with a freshly-sliced tomato hue face, "O—Okay..."
It was small family-run restaurant but it was still bustling with customers. The smoke from the open kitchen was hot— warm enough to remind the customers of the heat of a bubbling soup their mothers would have made for them during their childhood. Sawamura and Kazuya sat at the back on steel chairs, the spot was a little more secluded compared to the rest of the tables— private enough to even make Sawamura a little nervous, but not too nervous to forget he was sat in front of his upperclassman. The catcher had already ordered alcohol and food for them.
"Oi, Sawamura. An ace like you can handle even two bottles of beer, right? Or are you too weak to even finish one?" An idea Miyuki conjured in his mind to create an entertainment for himself.
The pitcher crossed his arms and stayed silent, a teaser to his profound maturity— "Too much drinking is bad for the health," Sawamura uttered with unconscious wisdom, "I can't play baseball if I get sick." Sawamura had started to pay attention to his own health— a rare occurrence Miyuki almost never experienced when they were still in Seido. A certain pitcher was always running with tires tied around his waist and training so late even his own body yearned to rest. Even when Chris always emphasized the importance of rest and health, Sawamura always pushed himself to his limits.
Miyuki was taken aback but snorted an unexpected chuckle. "Wow. How mature, Bakamura." Although he was impressed by the sudden demonstration of his maturity, a certain sting of bittersweet needle pricked his heart. Sawamura grew up— a flash of the previous years he spent honing and improving his pitching together (developing the Numbers with Sawamura, as well.) or even the time he spent catching his pitches until the very day he became the ace of their team went through his mind.
Sawamura burst into flames, effectively shown on his face, "Can you atleast try to be nice—" The upperclassman, convulsing in laughter, utterly ruffled his brown locks into a mess. He drew a deep, ragged but relished sigh, savoring the amusement brought to his usually boring night.
After a while, Kazuya poured a shot into his glass and gulped it in one-go. He smirked in his usual foxy-like self and winked at Sawamura making him go red. "Come on, Sawamura. Don't tell me you can't handle even a single shot?"
The pitcher glared, with a pouty mouth and a face you could probably never deny a request from, heaved a sigh. "You're such a bad influence, Bakayuki..." Sawamura groggily returned, still bearing that ruinable expression— or so Kazuya stirred in his mind. Miyuki tsked his tongue, either due to his resistance to temptation flickering away or to sheer pleasure from the accessibility to infuriate Sawamura in every way possible. He absolutely resented the first and loved the latter.
"I bet you can't drink that bottle in one go." Kazuya challenged, knowing the inevitable outcome. He smirked devilishly— how he loved this ability of his to enrage others.
Sawamura immediately got riled up and pointed at Kazuya. "I'LL SHOW YOU I CAN FINISH THIS IN ONE GULP!!!" The younger man declared, pressing his hands firmly onto the oak table in front of them looking so terribly and terribly determined to prove himself.
Kazuya rested his chin on his hand, angled so slightly to better examine his eventual amusement, feeling utter provoked, almost indistinguishable to an infuriated fury of an Eijun in a match where he threw 6 pitches total, 3 pitches for a strikeout with no balls thrown. Miyuki could taste the sharp delight on his tongue from the aggravation he conjured.
In a swift— or rather, asinine move, Sawamura took a pale green glass bottle of alcohol and chugged it down, until the last drop was melting down his chin. The alcohol dripping down his neck made Kazuya less sober— less sober that could even make him want to be drunk. It took a minute, a minute and a half for the pitcher to down two and a half bottles of newly ice-cold alcohol until it made his golden eyes glassy and his usually tan freckled face scorched in a pale red hue.
Sawamura lazily laid his whole head on the table. His arm knowingly draped around his head, sluggishly pushing away the sets of plates they had finished beforehand. His ears and face were a shade of freshly sliced insides of watermelons. It made the fingers on the hands of the catcher, that was made to lead the tides in an intense baseball field, curl in a way that even made him unsure of his own judgment— or feelings towards his pitcher.
"Is my precious junior drunk now? How awful. I thought you held your liquor better." Kazuya teased, knowing just where to rile up the spot made for his satisfaction. He presumptuously laid back, awaiting the blackmail he will use in the morning after. If his heart makes it alive— that is.
"MIYUKI KAZUYAAA!!" Kazuya squinted his eyes at the volume, amused.
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT SOME STUPID ALCOHOL!!! DRINK ALL YOU WANT!!! I JUST WANT TO PLAY BASEBALL WITH YOU!!!" Sawamura roared, making the nearby customers frown in annoyance. Kazuya felt a tang of embarrassment for his underclassman and sent utters of half-laughing apologies to the customers around them.
Kazuya smirked in enjoyment and amusement, not knowing whether to cower in utter laughtery or rile the drunkard Eijun more. "Lower your voice. There's a lot of people eating here— I can hear you, you know." Kazuya murmured, having a battle within his mind over his own self-preservation and containing his barely-sane clenching heart.
Sawamura, practically leaping over the table, mused back, "MIYUKI KAZUYAAAA!! MY STUPID EVIL TANUKI PARTNERRRRR!!!" The catcher braced himself from laughter.
"You're such an idiot, idiot... Y'know what? Just come sit beside me. I think you lost your remaining brain cells and think I can't hear you from there." Kazuya heaved a deep sigh while containing his laughter.
With no hesitation, the pitcher immediately clung onto Kazuya rambling about three unrelated things: his love for baseball, the sport itself, racing to be the ace in the Swallows, and praising Miyuki for his recent game a month ago. The catcher could barely suppress his heartbeat clutched under his ribcage.
After a while, the pitcher starts to lower in volume but increase in random praises and baseball talking. Miyuki caught on— he wondered how long it would take until Sawamura eventually passed out into a sound slumber.
"Miyuki-senpai... You're my only partner... I hope you haven't been cheating on me... I miss your mitt... It doesn't feel the same pitching to someone else... It feels different when you do it, you know?! I want to play baseball with you..." The drunk Sawamura muttered under his breath. Kazuya felt the grasp on his heart tighten from his words. It was impressive— how such an idiot could sway his feelings so easily.
The catcher, who was making sure his idiot wasn't trying to demonstrate his new pitching on the table, had softened his gaze while keeping a wide smirk.
"It doesn't work that way, idiot. Plus, you aren't in the starting lineup yet... I'll be all yours to pitch to when you're in." Kazuya mused in a low tone enough to send Sawamura to sleep for a few minutes. The upperclassman ruffles his hair roughly, savoring the look on his red face.
The pitcher was basically laying on his shoulder as a pillow and a towel to combat his theatrical wailing.