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“For the last time, you idiot, it’s Wednesday! See for yourself!”
Kazuya opens the door to see Youichi on Eijun’s bed, the older shoving a calendar on the latter’s face, and while the sight of the two roommates being too close with each other ticked a couple of nerves inside him, Kazuya can’t help but snicker and tease them about it:
“Is this a bad timing?” he taunts. “Should I come back to check on you two lovebirds a few hours later?”
Youichi rolls his eyes, and Kazuya takes some sort of satisfaction in seeing him trying to hold himself from answering back with something about him being jealous instead – he’d always knew Youichi knew.
“Miyuki-senpai!” Eijun calls, voice loud as ever even from behind the calendar. He’s giving one last push and Youichi finally lets him go to send him landing on the floor with a big oompf.
“How dare you treat this important kouhai like this!” he throws his senior roommate a glare as said senior laughs his ass away to his own desk. “Ugh, anyway, Miyuki Kazuya! Today’s Tuesday, right?”
Now it’s Kazuya’s turn to roll his eyes. “You can’t possibly be this dumb, can you?” he asks, and when Eijun did nothing but insisting, finger pointing straight on his face, he pulls his phone out and show him the date marked right on the screen.
“See? Wednesday. Beside, didn’t you say you had a big English test yesterday? Don’t you remember screaming about failing in the bullpen so loud, coach Kataoka kicked you to run 10 laps?”
Eijun only blinks confusedly at his screen, and Kazuya later half regrets not asking him further when he finally mumbles a low “Oh.”
-
Funny how Kazuya should’ve seen this coming, but at the same time it’s only natural that he didn’t. It starts slowly, with Eijun waking up and forgetting what he had for dinner, then soon more about him insisting it's a certain yesterday because he didn't remember it happening, or finding him standing still in some of the strangest spots because he can’t remember what he’s supposed to do. And it’s even funnier because no one, including Kazuya himself, takes this seriously. Because it’s a general opinion that Eijun has always been a tad duller than most crayons in the box, so everyone kind of came into the conclusion that this must’ve been one of those times when he’s being himself. Again.
But one time Eijun wakes up not remembering anything and tries to punch Youichi back for kicking him to wake him up. And he only calms down after Kazuya, who swears at Youichi that he will “Kill you if this is a joke, it's a barely 7!” rushes to his room and somehow able to calm him down and tell him that it's okay.
“I’ll be fine!” Eijun would say later, toothy grin well in place. “It’s all okay, I was joking! I got you good didn’t I, Mochi-senpai!?”
And Youchi would tug his arm around his neck and pull him down, empty threats filling the air despite the look he would give Eijun’s retreating back after then.
-
“..scared..”
“Oh, it’s you.” Kazuya scratches his head in attempt to hide his surprise. It’s a bit cold tonight, autumn chill just seeping in. The clock was hitting midnight when he left his room in dire need for a coffee so it’s clearly unexpected for him to find the other boy squatting in the dark, the glow from the vending machine barely reaching his back.
“Didn’t see you there.”
“..don’t wanna lose..”
“What’s that?”
Eijun takes his time to stand and turn to him, and now that he’s facing the light, Kazuya can finally see the red in his eyes and what seems to be the drying trails of the fallen tears beneath them. What happened? He wants to ask, though does he even has the right to ask him that?
But then Eijun smiles and Kazuya forgets how to think.
“Senpai,” he calls, voice for once quiet and shy; gone is the usual loud-mouth, fiery front he’s gotten used to see (and admire) from the day, what’s left is the fidgeting, doubtful-eyed boy Kazuya swears he knows nothing of.
“Um.. well, just in case I didn’t get to say this later.. thank you, okay?” he says and means it; Kazuya knows because he doesn’t think he’d ever meet anyone as honest as Eijun; doesn’t know anyone who can put his feelings on display as much as the other boy does.
“I couldn’t get this far without you.”
Now Kazuya’s first instinct is to tease him back, but there’s some sort of finality in the way he talks; Eijun says the words as if he’s saying goodbye that Kazuya swallow the whatever cynical things he’s readied back.
“Uh.. sure?” so he says instead. The words feel awkward on his tongue.
“..um, senpai..”
“Huh?”
"It’s just.. I… you..” Eijun holds his gaze for what seems to be an eternity (and Kazuya learns that apparently the blue light mixing with the warm amber glow on those eyes can create such a beautiful combination), but in the end he shakes his head and bows down one more time.
“It’s nothing. Once again, thank you for everything! And..” he says before he turns, his usual grin already back. “Please don’t sleep too late!”
When Kazuya returns to his room ten minutes later, the 120 Yen in his pocket remains in tact.
-
Whatever that is happens gradually, over the last two of Eijun’s years in Seido, until one day his family decides that it might be best for him to stop (pause, they had said) his study until he gets better and opt to stay in a hospital closer to home instead. Until the number of visitors get lesser and lesser as Eijun loses his memory of them. Until people moved on and no one visits him anymore; until the only seasonal visitors left are Wakana, and Youichi, and Haruichi who would sometime bring either Ryousuke or Furuya, and Chris whenever he's in the country.
And of course Kazuya, who ends up taking a medical degree and ‘coincidentally’ finding himself tasked to work in the same hospital where Eijun stays.
Everyone had bombarded him with question and by everyone, it was everyone; tabloids wanted to know why a rising rookie catcher with nothing but bright future before him suddenly changes his course, and his friends demanded to know why the very person who breathes baseball could even think of giving up on baseball. He’d gotten messages from people he’d never heard of, and there were even a number of fangirls who went out of their way and begged him to think about it. But Kazuya gave every single one of them his trademark smirk, and simply lies about how but it’s been decided through his teeth. He kept telling people it's what his father wants him to do, and what his mother would have wanted him to, and that he had enough with the bustling city that is Tokyo, and some random things he couldn’t even remember anymore.
And somehow everyone bought the lies; everyone but two people who know the real reason why – Youichi, who had cornered him about it, and, of course, the only person who had offered a friendly hand instead of more questions to dodge: Chris.
-
(“What is this bullshit I’ve been hearing!? Baseball has always been your thing, hasn’t it?”
Kazuya turns his face away.
“Oi Miyuki, what the hell – Neurological Science? What the –it’s Sawamura, isn’t it? Do you even know what that is? Wait, no, you're joking, right? Because I swear to go–”
The sharp sound of his palm hitting against the desk surprises both Youichi and Kazuya himself. The soon-to-be ex-pro baseball player had expected his voice to come out shaky out of frustration, and he’s glad to find out somehow it didn’t when he told Youichi that, “He doesn’t even remember shit about me, Kuramochi.”
Youichi’s eyes widen for a few seconds, protests clearly ready behind his clenched teeth, but Kazuya stops him before he even begin.
“I don’t– this isn’t some sort of heroic bullshit or anything. I’ve thought.. about this, okay? It’s.. it’s the only way I can think of..” he shakes his head. “I must be crazy, huh? I know it’s like chasing wind. It’s incurable, yes I know, but it’s him and..”
Kazuya closes his eyes, there’s a tight pull on his chest – suddenly it’s so hard to breathe. Opening his eyes again, he tells himself to focus on the crisp white envelope holding his official withdrawal documents below his palm: this is supposed to be his dream, isn’t it? This is supposed to be the thing he wants the most in his life. The one and only thing that matters. He can simply just rip the papers in half and go back to his coach and everything would be back to normal. He can always just reach for his phone and call his team and they would put all of these nonsense behind them.
This is everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s fought for, and to think that he’s about to throw it all away for a certain idiot who doesn’t remember anything about him..
He wants to laugh. You really are an idiot, aren’t you? He asks himself. He’s living the dream; living the life he’s always wanted. He gets to play the one thing he loves the most everyday, gets to face the most challenging catchers on weekly basis, and guides the most talented pitchers who would put even the great Hongou Masamune to shame.
No matter how one sees it, it’s nothing but a bad decision that would definitely lead into even worse ones.
But why doesn’t it feel hard to give all of it up?
He returns his gaze to Youichi’s unreadable ones.
“What?” he challenges. Weakly, he has to admit.
“Nothing,” Youichi says, raising his fist only to settle it on his shoulder as a surprisingly encouraging pat. “I just.. I’ve always knew, but.. I’ve never thought you’d go this far.”)
-
Living beside Eijun is definitely not as easy as it looks, but Kazuya loves it. It’s like being addicted in the worst way possible; he loves it despite the pain of having to stare at Eijun’s eyes and not seeing the glow he’d used to admire; the pain of seeing him struggle to remember, or crying out of frustration because he couldn’t and having to be able do practically nothing but give him a couple of gentle pats in the back and empty promises that you would get better. He loves it despite having to offer his hand to Eijun every single morning and be very well know that even after doing everything he could –all the years they’d spent together and the memories they created, all the late night cramming on things he barely had any ideas of and foreign books that he’d never heard of, and all the tears of frustration and prayers that seem to fall on deaf ears– he will always be nothing but a new face to Eijun.
(He loves it despite the sinking sensation he would feel every night; the kind of pull that makes you want to claw your lungs out because oh it’s so, so hard to breathe and you want this to end, but somehow you know in the back of your mind, there’s a disturbing voice that tells you this is what you want.)
But it's the best, it’s the only way he can still stay close to him. He tells his colleagues that he needs the trouble of taking care of him to make his boring small town life more interesting, and they would usually laugh it off under the dim lighting of their favorite diner; where words fly lazily between empty plates and bottles of sake – dreams of finding a good woman to marry and move out to the big city – but deep down inside Kazuya knows it’s nothing but a lie; knows that he can’t even bring himself to think of leaving.
It’s painful, yes it is. But if it can earn him Eijun’s smile, then it’s enough.
It’s more than enough.
-
"Good morning, Sawamura-san.”
“Uh, good morning?”
“I'm your doctor in charge, Miyuki Kazuya. How are you feeling today?"
"Miyuki-sensei..? Oh, yes! Umm.. I’m.. good, I guess? I don’t feel anything’s wrong.. wait, am I supposed to feel something? What happened–what's wrong with me, exactly?"
“Hmm?” a perfect mask of the gentlest, friendliest smile well in placed.
Another day, another self-condemned hell to go through.
Another Sawamura Eijun to get to know of, and another Miyuki Kazuya to play.
“Nothing.” Kazuya wishes. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Nothing’s ever wrong with you.
-
Some days he would bring a baseball ball with him and accidentally dropping it near Eijun's bed to catch his attention.
If he's lucky, they would talk about baseball in general: how it's such an interesting sport, and sometimes they would even end the day by watching a recording from one of their old teammates' plays (Furuya had scored himself the best newcomer pitcher title and it will always be kind of funny how this Eijun would just nod along to the information instead of raging like how he used to).
And in the days when he's not, he would just have Eijun only commenting about how baseball “is.. good, I guess. I’d love to try to play someday, though. ”
-
One day, after introducing himself for what must've been the thousandth time, Eijun suddenly tells him that, "You know, sensei, I used to want to be a baseball player."
That catches Kazuya off guard, but he plays it off with a smirk and then begins their usual game of tease;
"You sure don’t look like someone who could even throw a ball."
“What’s that?”
“Mhmm.”
“For all you know, I might be one of the greatest pitchers ever, okay!?”
“Sure you are.” he singsongs, not even bothering to glance up from his clipboard. Memory intact or not, Eijun will always be a good prey for his teases.
"Oi, when I get out of here, I'll show you just how mean I can throw! I bet you can't even catch that!"
Kazuya pauses, and dip his head lower; earlier smile curving back down into a thin straight line despite how much he tries to hold it back.
Don’t make promises you can’t keep, he wants to say, but of course he didn’t. Instead he tells Eijun, "I'll hold on to your words, then."
The answer must have pleased Eijun because he flashes his grin and falls back to his bed, humming some foreign tune as he did, and Kazuya lets him do whatever he wants, he has some papers he has to take care of anyway.
"Speaking of promises, I feel like.. I owe someone."
Kazuya raises his head to see Eijun with such a distant look on his eyes. This is new. "Huh?"
"You know, I once met an amazing catcher –I didn't lie, okay, I think.. no, I’m sure I got scouted by a well known school!– and he.. when we played together, it was so awesome! It's like I can defeat any batter as long as he's there. I can't remember much, but he..” his voice grows quiet, lashes lowering down, and Kazuya’s throat runs dry; there’s a weight on his chest and it feels like a deja vu.
“Heh, he changed my life. He made me want to push forward.. I want to make him acknowledge me.. and if I'm not reading him wrong, I think he wanted to play with me again too! But, ahahaha,” Eijun scratches his head, “I guess it's too late for me now, huh? What year is this, anyway? I'm sure that guy's a pro baseball player now!
“Hmm.. I wonder if I can watch him? I know I can't remember his name.. but maybe something might come up if we try to dig him up! Hey, Miyuki-sensei, we can do that, right? Can you bring me–
“..sen.. sei? Ah.."
Only when he notices a wet smear of ink on his report later that Kazuya realizes why Eijun stopped talking.
-
Sometimes it’s hard.
It’s hard to accidentally catch a baseball match on TV and not think about how much he miss squatting under the scorching sun, hand stretching forward waiting for a ball.
It’s hard to catch a sight of his old uniform lying on the bottom pile of his shirts and think about how different his life would be if he decides against retiring from baseball.
It’s hard to put on a smile and act as if it’s the first time he sees Eijun and that they’re nothing but strangers – to remember that Eijun is really sick when he’s laughing and just so alive sitting beside him.
It’s hard to see Eijun smiling and having to hold himself from asking why? Why must it be you?
It’s hard to think that he did his best; he did everything he could, but even then, it’s still not enough; that it will always be a dead end despite the many forgotten promises he tells Eijun that it won’t be.
And it’s even harder to tell himself to stop hoping at the slightest chance; to remember that they didn’t even stand one to begin with.
That with every hello there would be nothing but another hello in waiting.
-
“Can I really be healed, sensei?”
“It’s just a matter of time.”
A purr. A lazy stretch of hands. “Haah.. can’t it be any faster?”
“Why? Is there anything urgent you need to do?”
“Mm, not really.”
“Then? You got something in your head. Care to share?”
A lovely string of chuckle. “You really are my doctor, you know me so well!”
“Naturally.”
“Well, okay, I know this sounds ridiculous since, you know, I don’t remember anyone hahaha, but I must’ve caused a lot of trouble. My family.. my friends.. I must’ve had some, right? So I want to get healthy again, then I can get out of this place and try to find out about them! Apologizing is definitely up there, but more than that, I want to get to know them again. Of course it’d be even better if I can get my memory back, but even if I don’t, we can always make new memories, right?’
A deep breath. In and out. “Whoa, I don’t think I’d ever tell you this, but that’s really thoughtful of you.”
“Hmm! Isn’t it? ..but you’d help me, though, right? You’re literally the only person I know here! Please, Miyuki-sensei? Please, pretty please?”
“..I don’t see why not.”
“Then it’s a deal!” sealed with a shake of hands. “By the way, sensei, what makes you wanna be a doctor in the first place?”
-
(Of course it’s not hard, Kazuya belatedly realizes one evening as he goes through the boxes filled with his Seido mementos; the answer to the question he kept asking himself back when he was still the rookie catcher with a bright future. The one question he used to dismiss with a simple ‘it just doesn’t feel right.’
Of course it doesn’t matter. It’s not the same. It would never be the same. He can have the most talented pitcher as his battery; the most obedient one with limitless kind of pitches ready at his call, but nothing can replace that sensation – the beating of his heart as the tension rises, the adrenaline rush, the excitement, and the feel of staring straight to the mound and seeing a burning, piercing gaze mirroring the exact same feelings as his own–
He doesn’t want to just play baseball. He wants to play baseball with Sawamura Eijun.)
-
“What’s that – ooh, is that a baseball ball?”
“Huh? Oops, yeah, sorry, that’s mine.”
“Cool! Can I hold it?” A playful throw right into his palm. “Whoaah! I never play baseball but I can tell that must be a good throw!”
“Hahaha.”
“Can you teach me to throw like that?”
“I don’t think you’d need any help.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just throw the ball.”
“Huh?”
“Throw it – no, use your left one.”
“Uhm okay..?” Another throw, which was probably aimed to the chair beside the counter but nearly hitting one of the spare mugs on top of it instead. A bad throw, one that would definitely cost the pitcher responsible his own number should this happen even in the bullpen during warm up session.
But Eijun’s eyes twinkle the same way they did when he first caught his pitch, and Kazuya wonders when did his heart makes that switch. He wonders when did he fall so hard for the boy with warmth rivaling the sun; and wonders if it had been love at first sight all along.
-
Sometimes Kazuya also wonders if this is some sort of joke.
A very mean joke from a very bored god, or if this is actually karma’s way to get back to him for all the fuckeries his friends used to complain about him.
And some other times he wonders what does Sawamura Eijun mean to him–why does he keeps going back despite knowing full well that there’s no hope left; why does being away from him makes it hard to breathe, and why does being close to him feels no different?
But if there’s anything he knows, it’s that this is something he can’t get enough of. It’s like being alive; seeing Eijun smiles – it’s like oxygen, it’s like breathing.
And human needs oxygen to live. It’s a simple fact; something he’d seen on his biology textbook decades ago.
(“Human can’t survive without oxygen.” his teacher said one afternoon. “But too much oxygen can also kill one.”)
-
It really is the worst kind of addiction. One that he should probably put to a full stop.
“Hey Miyuki-sensei! Ehehe, look what I got!”
But how does Miyuki Kazuya live without Sawamura Eijun?
-
"Sensei," Eijun says one morning after yet another introduction. "I had a weird dream.."
"Hmm? Did you turn into a dog again?"
"What..? When did I– No! No, ugh, it's a serious one this time! But it's so weird!"
"Is that so?" Kazuya smirks as he pulls a chair closer to the bed. He already has a feeling today would be one of those days when Eijun would just talk whatever's on his mind away. And no, he's not complaining. If anything, he likes it. He definitely prefers it than those days when Eijun would just curl on his bed hoping he can remember anything.
"You wanna tell me what is it about?"
After a few promises not to laugh, Eijun finally starts with, "I can't really remember much, but I was standing in the center of a stadium.."
Kazuya stills, a shiver runs through his skin. Somehow a small part of him wants to tell Eijun to stop because nothing ever comes up good from this baseball dream sort of talk –Eijun would sometimes dream about the past but those were merely hazy memories that would do nothing but get Kazuya’s hope up only to throw it back down again– but another part of him also wants to hear it because no matter what, Eijun and baseball will forever be his favorite combination. It's always a (bitter)sweet thing to see how, even when his memory is gone, Eijun still somehow loves baseball very much.
"It’s empty, and I remember looking around and then I saw you! You're wearing.. those protective gears, you know, ones, uh, baseball players are wearing? And a glasses –which looks good on you, by the way!– and.. ugh I don't know, but you're crouching down behind the lines and then you’re spreading your arms and suddenly I was holding a ball in my hand!
“It's so weird because I've never played my whole life, okay? But in that dream.. it felt just right! Like it's something I've always been doing – my body moved on its own. And then.. I threw the ball and.. it whoosh-ed right.. across.. the batter and.. I heard.. someone.. I heard.. the umpire.. screamed 'batter out!' and suddenly.. suddenly the stadium was filled with people.. screaming and celebrating.. and.."
Kazuya didn't realize he'd hid his face down until he feels a pair of warm hands on his cheeks tugging his head up. He instinctively follows their lead, rising his head ever so slowly, but when his eyes catch Eijun's eyes somehow he just knows.
"..and Seido won.” That smile. That beautiful smile. “ We won. There’s Mochi-senpai tackling me, and Harucchi patting me in the back, and Kanemaru and Toujo, and Zono-senpai, and the others.. and the third year-senpais..
“And you." But Kazuya can think of anything else other than the pretty glow in Eijun's eyes when he's staring at him – nothing can ever match the beauty of those amber eyes, which are now looking so familiar, so much like the sight he used to see back in those old days he’d taken for granted. So familiar and warm it feels like home.
"I see you, Miyuki Kazuya."
Now Kazuya doesn’t cry. He’d told himself to stop crying a long time ago, when he found out that tears won’t ever bring back what he’d lost no matter how long or how loud he wails. But seeing Eijun – seeing the real Eijun staring at him; the familiar gaze, the familiar warmth, and the feel of him in his arms – all the years he’d been waiting had everything suddenly come crashing. One time he’s opening his mouth to say Eijun’s name to give him the complain of his life, but the next thing he knows he’s crying against his shoulder, words a jumbled mess hiccuping from his throat.
"Tell me this is not a joke.” he demands, voice shaky and whiny and it’s so unlike him but for once he didn’t care. He's back. His Eijun is back. He’s allowed to act this way because it’s.. it’s real, isn’t it?
“I’ve been waiting for so long, you idiot!” he tells him, hands balling into a fist. “You have no idea. No. Idea. What'd you put me through, you.. damned brat!"
And Eijun starts crying too because he, "know, I know, I'm so sorry, Miyuki-senpai. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Sorry that I never told you about this. Sorry that you had to go through everything. I’m sorry, senpai – I really am sorry.."
-
Once they got a hold of themselves – namely Eijun’s focus shifting from trying to hold himself from crying to trying to stop himself from wetting Kazuya’s white coat even further, and Kazuya’s failed attempts to make himself presentable in front of the head nurse who happens to check on Eijun (who ends up giving Kazuya a secret smile when she leaves, and a promise not to let them be disturbed for the rest of the day), they spend the entire day talking about what Eijun had missed.
Kazuya updates him about pretty much everyone; about his parents and grandpa who would be visiting in two days, about Youichi who is now running a car repair shop, about Chris who is playing professionally in the US, about Furuya and his best rookie title (that has Eijun hissing and jumping out of his bed, ready to stomp his way to the nearest training ground), about Haruichi following Ryousuke to Kyoto but ends up settling in Osaka instead, and Wakana and her small flower shop and beautiful new family, and the others that he can think on top of his head. Not only that, Kazuya shows him their pictures; their social media accounts so Eijun can see how they look like now (“..is this really Masuko-senpai!?”), and some of the things they’ve brought for him as gifts. And oh Eijun takes them all greedily; the very picture of a super excited puppy.
And by the late, late noon, Kazuya even ended up getting Youichi on the phone and having to swear on his life that he did not hear him cry. At all.
But the highlight of the day actually happens at the night, when Eijun had tugged on Kazuya's hand when he's about to go back, and somehow managing to get him agreeing to fit the both of them on the small, cramped bed because, "I need to hear more, senpai! You haven't told me about Yoshikawa and the others!"
They ended up talking until way past midnight despite Kazuya’s protests, until the cheerful ‘whoa’ s and ‘ooh’ s are nothing but hushed whispers exchanged under the thin white blanket. Until Eijun’s curiosity finally gets the best of him, and the question ‘why did you stop playing baseball?’ is finally up in the air.
“..did something happen?” Eijun asks, a worried ‘was it an injury?’ clear on the way his eyes unabashedly ran through the length of Kazuya’s body as if checking for any proof to prove his suspicion.
Kazuya could have very well avoided the topic entirely; could have dodged the question with a question – mind games have always been his field of expertise, but tonight, he decides, there should be none of that.
“I wanted to.” so he answers, but confusion is still written on those pretty eyes so he reaches down and takes Eijun’s left hand inside his.
“Uhm..” the other drags on, clearly not knowing how to respond. “..this.. what does this.. this isn’t a joke, right? I mean if it is, I–”
“It’s not.”
He feels those fingers tighten. “..why?”
“There was once a stupid pitcher.” he begins. Kazuya doesn’t know where this is going – swears he hasn’t had a single coherent thought ever since he threads their fingers together, not that he has since this late morning. A more sensible part of him reminds him that he would regret this one day, but then again he’s been waiting for so, so long, and he has nothing to lose anyway.
“He’s loud and stupid; the exact brat. He used to tell everyone he would be the ace of this team but sadly he lacks the skills to be it–”
“Heeey –”
“–but.” Kazuya points out. Here goes nothing. “He was our important pitcher nonetheless; he made our heavy days more bearable with his stupid acts making us laugh, and when he gets on the mound, our entire team gets to play along. He made himself so unforgettable even though.. one day he forgets about all of us.”
“..senpai..”
“I was angry, you know.” he tells him. “I was pissed because none of us thought it was serious. When you started forgetting things, we thought it was you being normal. And it’s not until I came back to visit Seido months after graduation that I found out it was the real deal –that you got admitted to a hospital somewhere in Nagano.
“Rei-chan got me your room number so of course I visited you as soon as I could, but seeing you not recognizing me..” he closes his eyes, trying to get rid of the memory of standing in this exact same room years ago; of the way his chest suddenly feel so, so heavy as if someone punched the air out of him – of not knowing what to think when Eijun stares at him with nothing but wonders in eyes, greeting him with a cheerful ‘who are you?’
“I was really out of it. I kept waiting for you to make some sort of dumb face and tell me it’s one of your stupid pranks, but you never did. So I.. left, and decided to focus on baseball instead. And for a few years it’s the only thing that matters; I got into pro, doing things I like: dealing with amazing pitchers and going against all kinds of teams.. but you know what? It’s.. not the same.”
Kazuya pauses. He’d lost count on how often he went to the hospital only to chicken out at the front gate and return to Tokyo again with an even heavier heart. And no, Eijun shouldn’t know about that.
“Things..” so he continues. “Got boring. People are interesting, but it became a routine. Those pitchers were challenging to direct but give a few months and they’re just.. pitchers. And it’s frustrating because I started to feel baseball is boring until one day I realized that it’s not them, it’s me. They’re a good team. Hell, thrice as good as Seido in terms of play and teamwork, but it’s not them I want to play with.”
Kazuya takes one deep breath.
“I want you.” he tells him finally. Direct and clear. “No matter how annoying you are, or how frustrating you are to deal with. I want to play with you. I want to catch for you. And then I noticed that it’s not only that, I don’t want to just play with you, I want to be wherever you are–it’s dumb, I know,” he quickly adds. “And I’ve gotten a good whack from everyone because a doctor, huh..” Kazuya can’t help but laugh because it really is ridiculous. He’d thought of the decision through and through, but no matter how he sees it now, it really is nothing but a rash, feelings-induced decision it’s a miracle that somehow it works.
“I never thought I'd be one and yet here I am. And to think that it’s all because of some kid I met in high school..”
He notices Eijun has gone still, and only then a fear ripples inside him; that he starts to wonder if this might be too much for the other man since he really did bare himself to him in ways he never did merely hours after Eijun got his memory back. But then he catches it – as if the previous years never happened – the way Eijun’s cheeks start gaining colors as the words finally sink in is the exact same reaction when he first praises him for his skills. He stares at their joined hands for quite a long while, body uncharacteristically still and mouth agape, but Kazuya knows it’s a winning battle because when Eijun finally raises his face up, there is nothing but that one shy smile.
“Um.”
“Well..”
“I.. um, I don’t know what to say.. this is.. to..” Eijun mumbles earnestly, the red growing stronger as he averts his gaze away. “I to–”
“Then don’t say anything.”
“Eh? But Miyu–”
“I’m not telling you this for anything.” he tells Eijun, and he means it. If there’s anything he learns while staying with Eijun all these years, it’s that Eijun’s happiness is what matters most. He’d long put a name to his feelings, but he’d also put a decision that it’s okay even if it goes unnoticed. There were days when he has to fight the urge to drag his arms across his desk and thrash everything aside, or punch the hell out of something out of anger and frustration, but it was such a long time ago. He’s content to stay beside Eijun and take care of him. And to find out that the day is finally here; the impossible day when Eijun finally remembers him – this is more than enough.
“Just letting you know that this isn’t a prank or anything, and you will be seeing me everyday from now on, and you’d have to do what I say because more than your catcher, I’m your doctor now.”
A moment passes. Then Eijun snorts, his body language relaxing. “Is that so?”
“Yep, and as your doctor, I’m telling you that it’s time for you to go to bed.”
“But I’m already in bed!” He nudges forward. “With you! ”
“Now sleep.”
“No!”
“Sleep, or I’ll call the scary nurses on you.”
“Do you think I’m a kid?”
“Well, aren’t you?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Shall we see then?”
But even then Eijun still doesn’t seem to want to stop talking, and they would’ve talked even more if only Kazuya hadn’t physically put his hand over Eijun's mouth and remind him that, again, he is his doctor now on top of everything. And beside, they would get plenty of time to catch up again tomorrow anyway.
Eijun's last defend as he turns his back on him was, "Okay, but I actually have this one last thing I want to tell you but if you don’t want me to talk again, you won't be able to hear it until tomorrow!" which Kazuya answers with a fine before he huddles close to the familiar, unfamiliar feel of Eijun’s body, pressing the other against him and effectively shutting whatever he wants to say.
-
“..senpai?”
“Save it for tomorrow, Sawamura.”
“No, no, this’ different. Just..” a silence, one that has Kazuya’s heart thrumming against his ribcage because for once he really couldn’t see where this is going. He can sense Eijun growing tense again, his body still and rigid, and it’s funny because gone is Kazuya’s usual composition, what’s left is unreasonable questions and even more unreasonable ‘what if ’s.
But then he feels Eijun pressing back to him and suddenly everything is fine again.
“Thank you,” he says, then adding very quietly, “For not giving up for me.”
Kazuya blinks. Strangely enough, his first thought was to ask Eijun to marry him right there, but somehow he manages to hold himself still. Because the last time he checked his watch it was nearing 4 AM, and Kazuya would rather save the question for a better time and place. He tries to come up with something that suits him; a cool reply or a snarky comeback and disappointedly finding his brain must’ve been so tired because there’s none. But a few minutes later he notices Eijun’s breathing has steadied down to a deep sleep, his warm back rising and falling gently against his chest, and Kazuya allows himself to smile for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day when he whispers back and closes his eyes for good, his hand slipping down Eijun’s waist to bring their bodies closer than it should:
“I wouldn’t even if I could.”
Needless to say it’s the best sleep he had in years.
-
The first thing Eijun tells him the next day is, "Who are you?"