Work Text:
1.
Room 203 at Seidou was, as usual, lit up late into the night on Friday. It was the first weekend after the new jersey numbers were released, and the team was in full celebration mode—first years, second years, and third years alike, slumped together and getting to know each other as more than just baseball players.
Kazuya found himself sitting next to Kuramochi, who was being brutally beaten by Haruichi at whatever inane game they were playing this time. He cast his gaze around, noting that their two monster pitchers were missing, most likely grabbing drinks for everyone (even after the two became second years, there seemed to be a desperation in Furuya’s insistence at getting the drinks, and Kazuya noticed that Eijun never complained about being dragged along).
“Oi, whose phone is buzzing so much at this time?” Kuramochi grumbled, pinning his gaze on the first years. Kazuya muffled his laughter at the way some of them looked like they were going to piss their pants, as he sat back and decided to watch this play out. If it was one of their phones, they were going to wish they had never bought a phone in the first place.
“I think it’s Eijun’s phone,” Haruichi, with an air of innocence, announced, holding up the aforementioned object. Kazuya shuddered; poor Eijun—just became the ace, but destined for an early death at the hands of Kominato’s scheming and Kuramochi’s wrestling.
“Oh?” Kuramochi glanced over, lips twisting into a positively evil grin. “Bring it over here, let’s see what the idiot deems important enough to let it bother his senpai!”
Kazuya was planning on only watching, but he found his curiosity overwhelming the need to just laze around in his room. He inched forward, squeezing into Kuramochi’s space as the rest of the first string joined him. He squinted his eyes, trying to read over the shortstop’s shoulders, but it didn’t really matter, because they had started to read the texts on the lock screen out loud.
“The group chat name is …” Haruichi trailed off, eyebrows raised as he scrolled down the screen. “It’s ‘ we do be ballin’ tho,’ and they’re sending … a lot of texts.”
“Who the hell are these people? The contact names don’t even make any sense,” Kuramochi grunted, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Like, who the hell is ‘ lickety split ’ or ‘ bratty elsa ’?”
Kazuya sat back, bored again. He rolled his eyes as everyone continued to ask questions; he already knew what was going on, so he’d already disengaged from the discussion (not that he hadn’t acted similarly when Eijun had mentioned his growing group of friends to Kazuya after training one night). But he’d had time to get used to it, so there wasn’t anything worth paying attention to.
“Are they baseball players? This text says ‘ei, wanna work on batting together? you can take the train up tmrw,’ and they just sent it,” Kuramochi added, noting the time marking the text as sent a few seconds ago.
Murmurs went around the room, everyone clamoring for a closer look as the phone started to get passed around, Zono snatching it from Kuramochi’s hands. Kazuya watched with poorly concealed amusement as an almost visible tick mark appeared over Kuramochi’s head as more texts were read out loud, probably planning the way he was going to jump Eijun the minute he was back.
“This one says ‘ei open my snap chat i need u to tell me which outfit is the sexiest !’” Toujou read out loud, an alarmed look on his face.
Kazuya blanched; who in their right mind was asking Eijun for fashion advice? The last time he had seen the other in casual clothes he had been wearing an obnoxious pair of yellow overalls that made Kazuya’s eyes hurt; he couldn’t imagine anyone out there who would want advice from someone who dressed like Eijun did.
“Get a load of this one! Someone named Buddha sent ‘ lets all get together after a game!! I wanna go to karaoke again ,’!” Kanemaru called out, eye twitching as he continued to scroll through the visible messages.
“ Again? ” Kuramochi was definitely one more text away from exploding; Kazuya slowly inched away, sending a quick prayer up for their ace. There’s no way he was coming out of this whole.
“So, Eijun was out at karaoke with these people, huh?” Haruichi was the one to speak this time, an eerily still smile on his face as he swiped the phone back. Kuramochi looked equally as eerie next to him, silently cracking his knuckles.
“What are you guys doing?” Ah, the star of the evening. “Is that my phone?!”
“Yeah, it is—what’re you going to do about it, ya rude brat!” Kuramochi sprung into action (after Eijun had placed everyone’s drinks down), capturing their ace in a headlock. Kazuya watched with a faint grin, evolving into a chuckle when Eijun immediately cried uncle, smacking at Kuramochi’s forearms.
“Why?” Eijun cried out, finally released from Kuramochi’s arms only to amble over and sit next to Haruichi. Kazuya shivered—out of the frying pan and into the fire. Meanwhile, Furuya was handing out all of the drinks with a blankly uninterested look on his face.
“Your annoying phone has been going off for the past fifteen minutes, Bakamura—that’s why!” Kuramochi rolled his eyes at the realization dawning in Eijun’s eyes, who immediately reached for his phone.
“Ah, nope!” Haruichi said, rather brightly, moving the phone out of reach. Eijun looked confused, and Kazuya chuckled in pity; the poor kid was screwed. He shot Eijun a lazy grin when he turned a wide eyed gaze on him, which was returned with a scowl.
“We just wanted to know who all these people are—so, who are they?” Haruichi asked, not unkindly, but by the grimace on Eijun’s face, he wasn’t excited to answer their questions. Kazuya snorted to himself; he wouldn’t answer any of their questions either, if they asked him like this.
“Yeah! Who are you talking to so much at night, Sawamura?!”
“Are they baseball players too? Do we know them?” Kawakami spoke up for the first time, looking genuinely curious. But his almost kind questions were swept away by the barrage of angrily curious first players.
“Are you telling them our secrets?”
“Yeah! Who knows, they could be messing with you to get info!”
“I’m not telling you anything. And no, they’re not,” Eijun snapped, looking oddly put out. And Kazuya could only watch as Eijun, in a surprising show of speed and dexterity, snatched the phone from Haruichi’s hand and stuffed it into his back pocket.
“It’s none of your business who I’m texting—especially not if you’re going to accuse me or them of nefarious things!” Eijun concluded, and Kazuya couldn’t help the huff of laughter at the pitcher’s cat eyes.
“Wow ~ I didn’t know you even knew what that word meant, Ei~jun,” Kazuya teased, smirking through the words. It only grew wider when Eijun huffed and turned the cat eyes on him.
“Shut up, Miyuki Kazuya!” He yelled, in typical Eijun fashion, before turning to glare at the rest of the first string. Kazuya let out a small sigh of relief internally; he could tell by the tiny smile on Eijun’s face that he had been forgiven quickly. It wouldn’t be good to start arguing with his boyfriend right before his first game as the ace anyways.
“I stand by what I said—so stop snooping through my phone, y-you thieves!” And with that declaration, Eijun stood up, gave one final huff, and disappeared from Kazuya’s room in a whirlwind of motion. Everyone could only gape at the door that had been slammed shut, eyes wide with shock.
“Well—you guys fucked up,” Kazuya drawled, leaning back on his bed to get a proper view of all of the dumbfounded players.
“You did too, dumbass! Don’t leave yourself out of it!”
Kazuya snickered; if only they knew.
2.
Practice had just ended, and Shinji felt like he would collapse on the spot. He was slumped on the bench in between Toujou and Sawamura, the two holding a conversation about some homework assignment over his practically dead body. He groaned out a ‘ thank you ’ when one of them pressed a cold water bottle into his hands, taking thirsty sips.
The rest of the first string was scattered around the area, everyone in varying states of exhaustion; some of the alumni had shown up earlier and turned their regular practice into hell—Ryousuke with his hellish fielding training, Jun and Yuuki batting, and Chris pushing every pitcher to their limit. Shinji had overheard they were planning on joining them again tomorrow, and his legs were already crying in pain.
The sound of someone’s phone ringing seemed to draw everyone’s attention, and even Shinji managed to lift his head up, eyes squinting in disbelief. Who the hell was popular enough to get a friend to call them during this time? It definitely wasn’t family or friends from school, because everyone on the first string was well adjusted enough to let people know their practice times.
Shinji felt his eyes widen in disbelief as Sawamura, of all people, jumped up with a hiss. Everyone could only watch in silence as their ace stumbled towards his equipment bag, moaning and groaning with effort for the few steps he had to take. He felt like his eyes would fall out of his head when Sawamura pulled his phone out, swiping the screen and holding it up to his ear.
A muffled yell came through the phone and Shinji winced as Sawamura winced at the noise, feeling sympathetic for once. However, once the voice on the other end quieted down, everyone could see the way the tension bled out of Sawamura, a tiny smile on his lips. Shinji quirked his brows, sharing a curious look with Toujou; he knew the other was dying to know who was on the phone just as much as he was.
But they were in a difficult position, and couldn’t just demand for more information from Sawamura. The first string hadn’t forgotten the way Sawamura had blown up at them on Friday, and it seemed, neither had he. Outside of practice, the pitcher had been giving most of them the cold shoulder, choosing to sit with the second string during meals or disappearing to train by himself after practice.
A few seconds passed, and Shinji found himself surprised again when Sawamura looked almost hesitant, gaze raking across all of the first string players—who were all suddenly trying to pretend they hadn’t been intently listening. Even Miyuki, who enjoyed feigning ignorance and messing with Sawamura, was in the same boat as them, surreptitiously studying the ground (was that a hint of a smirk on his lips?) Sawamura rolled his eyes with a huff, attention returning to his phone.
“Listen, Mei, I told you to stop wearing those ugly brown sneakers, you’re not doing yourself any favors. If I have to drag myself to Inashiro and force you to wea…” Sawamura’s voice trailed off as he gathered his equipment and rounded the dugout, leaving everyone else in stupefied silence.
“Was Sawamura on the phone with Narumiya Mei? The ace of Inashiro?” Ryousuke’s voice was flat, and Shinji started with fear; he had almost forgotten that the ex-third years were still lingering in the area, having been invited to join them for dinner.
“And did he call him by his first name?!” Shinji felt the question slip out, blushing when everyone’s eyes flew to him. His question seemed to open the gates for a flood of questions, which was only paused, surprisingly, by Chris, who had cleared his throat and held a hand up for silence.
“Ah, yes. Eijun has told me all about his friendship with Narumiya,” Was all that Chris offered when everyone fell silent and looked at him with questioning eyes. Shinji almost complained, but caught himself at the last minute; everyone knew Chris had a soft spot for Sawamura, and angering him wouldn’t do any good.
“That’s all we’re going to get, Chris? Come on, give us a little more information,” But it seemed that Miyuki had no inhibitions, a seedy smirk on his face as he needled Chris for more. He didn’t know what game Miyuki was playing, but it wasn’t doing them any favors. Shinji winced when Chris’s face hardened in response, the slant of his lips pulled down.
“I suggest just asking him yourself. Maybe it’ll get him talking to his team again,” Chris said grimly, shooting one last disapproving look at the first string before stalking out of the dug out, the other graduates following closely behind, heads bent together in discussion.
Shinji sat down in front of Sawamura with a determined look in his eyes; he was sick of dancing around someone he considered a good friend, and wasn’t going to let one screw up turn this into a situation where everyone just ignored each other until they were miserable. His shaky smile wavered when Sawamura shot him a confused look, but returned full force when the ace didn’t move away.
Haruichi, Toujou, and Furuya slowly joined them as well, much more hesitantly than Shinji had been. He watched Sawamura glance at them warily, eyebrows raising as he chewed on his rice. He swallowed. Took a swig of water, and put aside his chopsticks, before interlacing his hands with a single quirk of his eyebrow.
“Right,” Shinji started, clearing his throat. “I—”
“We,” Toujou interrupted, the other two immediately nodding. Shinji cleared his throat again, hand clenching and unclenching around his glass of water.
“ We wanted to apologize. We shouldn’t have looked through your texts,” Shinji said, pausing to measure where they were getting with this apology. Sawamura definitely looked more interested in the conversation, a tiny hint of a smile appearing.
“We shouldn’t have accused you of all those things—it wasn’t kind, and it definitely wasn’t true,” Haruichi picked up where he had left off, hands tightly gripped onto the edge of the table. “Can you forgive us?”
And then Sawamura smiled brightly, and Shinji felt all of the tension seep out of him. It had felt like walking around on tip toes for the past week around Sawamura, and it had the entire first string on edge. Even though he would never verbally admit it, Shinji and everyone else knew how important Sawamura’s mere presence was to the team, and having their resident moodmaker turned into a silent pitcher wasn’t doing them any favors.
“Of course! Don’t even worry about it anymore,” Sawamura said with a grin, going back to his meal like nothing had happened.
Shinji felt more than saw the rest of the first string slowly join them, similar apologies following every player that sat down. He narrowed his eyes as a smirking Miyuki sat down right next to Sawamura, swinging his arm across the other’s shoulder without so much as a ‘sorry .’ He tried to convey ‘ apologize to him right now, captain ,’ with his eyes, but the widening of Miyuki’s smirk told Shinji he understood, and wasn’t planning on doing anything about it.
“So,” Toujou began, pausing with a blush when everyone turned to look at him, including Sawamura. “You’re friends with Narumiya?”
Shinji waited with a bated breath as Sawamura slowly chewed, swallowing audibly. It was so silent amongst the first string that if a pin dropped, you would be able to hear it clearly. The bright grin on Sawamura’s face definitely didn’t fit the ambience, but it felt right anyways, to him.
“Yeah! Great friends actually, even if he acts like a brat sometimes,” Sawamura added, rolling his eyes with a fond grin. Shinji slowly exhaled, sharing another look with Toujou, who looked like he was going to burst with curiosity. He was going to ask about who else was in that group chat, but before he could—
“You can say that again,” Miyuki was the one to speak this time, snorting and sharing a grin with Sawamura. Shinji watched with narrowed eyes; a thought was forming in his head, and he didn’t like it. And by the uncomfortable look on Haruichi’s face, he was probably having the same thoughts.
“Ah, Miyuki-senpai—did you already know about that group chat? And Eijun’s friendships?” Haruichi dove straight in, and Shinji closed his eyes for a moment; what a brave soldier, jumping straight into battle with Miyuki, of all people to engage.
“Oh, yes—” Miyuki leaned forward with an almost leer, the hand around Sawamura’s shoulder possessively tightening, only to be cut off by the person the shoulder belonged to.
“Yeah, Bakayuki here found out ages ago—he even helped me come up with some of their contact names!” Sawamura shared, and Shinji could only watch as their captain and ace shared another secretive smile, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
A roar of protest went through the first string, and Shinji found himself joining it out of pure annoyance. If Miyuki had warned them ahead of time, they could have avoided a week of dancing around Sawamura’s pressure points and basically being ignored by their ace.
“Oi—no one told you idiots to go snooping through another idiot’s phone. It’s not my fault you unintentionally picked the one thing that pushes all his buttons,” Miyuki said with an eye roll, grinning sharply when it spurred on another wave of protests (Sawamura included, who scowled at being called an idiot).
Shinji looked at the two closely, squinting his eyes. Later, he would swear up and down that he had seen Miyuki almost nuzzle into the “angry” hand Sawamura plopped onto his head, sneaky smiles on both of their faces as they effectively fooled the entire first string under their very noses.
3.
A loud yell grabbed all of Seidou’s attention, and Haruichi couldn’t help but look over at what was causing all the mayhem. Surprisingly (or unsurprising, considering the situation), the noise was gathered around Sawamura in the form of Amahisa, Todoroki, and Sanada; the four of them had easy going smiles on their faces, chattering away. Haruichi shared a look with Kuramochi, the two silently agreeing as they walked over to see what was going on.
It was right after the opening ceremony, and everyone was gathered outside the stadium; the coaches had been accosted for interviews, so the team was relaxing on the outskirts, observing other teams and noting jersey changes. It wasn’t a surprise that everyone would be keeping notes on Seidou’s biggest change, the ace number.
“—ace now! How come you didn’t tell us?” Amahisa was the first voice they heard, a large smile on his face as he swung an arm around Sawamura’s shoulders with an ease that said they were used to this position. Haruichi silently observed how Todoroki and Sanada kept grinning, engaged fully in the conversation.
“Hahaha! I wanted it to be a surprise,” Sawamura replied, with a challenging glint in his eyes. Haruichi’s eyes narrowed at Miyuki, who was standing off to the side, watching the events with a pleased smirk. They made eye contact, and Haruichi felt like he had been pushed off balance when Miyuki’s smirk widened with glee.
“So, you’re saying we’re the only ones who know?” Sanada’s smile was overjoyed, bumping shoulders with Sawamura; their loud voices had drawn in their respective teams, though, so everyone in the vicinity was listening with eager ears.
“I mean, Mei and Itsuki will probably find out by the end of today, but Ouno and Shun won’t know unless they watch our matches like they promised,” And Haruichi was surprised to find that Sawamura’s voice was almost teasing as he grinned with the players around him, who returned it with enthusiasm.
“Rahahaha! I can’t wait to see his reaction!” Todoroki’s voice was as loud as Sawamura’s in the dugout, a bright grin lighting up his whole face as he playfully smacked their ace’s shoulder.
“Shun is definitely going to send something like: “ I am disappointed you did not tell me that you were given the ace number, Eijun, but congratulations are in order. Very well done ,’” Amahisa pointed out, voice deepening to imitate what Haruichi assumed was either a very poor or very good imitation of the person’s voice, by the howling laughter the others gave.
“Hold on a second—Shun as in You Shunshin ? Clockwork dude?” One of the Yakushi players interrupted, eyes wide. Haruichi’s mouth dropped open a little when the name finally clicked—he hadn’t known that Sawamura had also roped someone like him into their little group. Before any of them could answer, the little group was once again interrupted by a voice loudly calling their names.
“Sawamura senpai! You got the ace number!” An excited voice yelled, hurtling through the crowd of people, long legs easily surpassing everyone else. Haruichi felt like today was going to be a continuity of surprises, because in front of them stood one of the newest additions to Inashiro’s roster, Akamatsu Shinji.
“Akamatsu!” Sawamura replied, easily gathering the tall first year as he bounded into their ace’s arms, sharing a brief hug. “And you got number 18—that’s a lucky number, y’know?”
Haruichi looked over to see Kuramochi’s jaw dropping, eyes practically bugging out; a quick glance around the rest of their team, and it seemed that everyone was in a similar state (except Miyuki, who just had a knowing glint in his eyes). He turned back to see Akamatsu already adjusting himself, choosing to hang onto Sawamura’s arm while he talked his ear off; what was even more interesting was how Sawamura took it all in, listening patiently while every once in a while interrupting himself, or one of the others players around him.
Haruichi sighed, resting his back against one of the columns with an exasperated, fond smile. You never stop finding new ways to surprise us, Eijun , he thought with a wry grin, eyes curled into half crescents as he watched the events continue to play out in front of them.
4.
The pitch count was 2-1. Two strikes. One ball. They had him cornered. Youichi could only hold his breath in the outfield as Sawamura lifted his leg daringly high, almost holding still in that position for an impossible amount of time as everything slowed down. One more out. One more out. One more out and they would be on their way to Koushien.
And it was the same opponents that had stood in their way as last time. Youichi’s stomach twisted and tied itself into knots as the pitch released from Sawamura’s hands, hurtling towards the plate. Narumiya stood there in the perfect position, bat held steady as his ice blue eyes blazed with a fierce competitive streak, lips pulled up into a predatory smirk. One more out.
Youichi held his breath as the pitch barreled past Narumiya, who had swung with his whole body. He exhaled loudly when the smoke cleared, and he could see the white of the ball sitting snugly in Miyuki’s met. The entire field thrummed with anticipation, sweat pouring down the faces of the Seidou players as they waited for the call from the empire.
“STRIKE!”
Youichi felt the tension leak from his body, before it was filled with elation, eyes widening with tears already spilling down them as he sprinted full speed towards the mound. He could feel the other outfielders joining him, limbs painfully smacking into each other as they all hurried to show their love for their ace. But everyone stopped in their tracks when Sawamura gave them a bright grin before turning about face and beginning to lightly jog towards the plate, where Narumiya stood, still in shock.
Youichi watched as Miyuki gently tapped his mitt hand on Sawamura’s chest, the two murmuring something to each other with ridiculously soft smiles. He looked away when Miyuki leaned in, cheeks flushing at their blatant show of their favoritism to the entire stadium. His gaze returned when Sawamura also pushed past Miyuki after that, footsteps slowing as he finally reached Narumiya, whose head was hung low, hands tight around his bat.
The deafening sound of the stadium felt like a buzz in Youichi’s ears, and he knew that the rest of the team was equally as flabbergasted. Everyone was still cheering by the dugout, but he knew it was muted as they all subtly kept an eye on their ace. Sawamura was quietly saying something to Narumiya, who had finally released his bat—it laid on the ground by the plate, metal glinting as it rolled from side to side.
He could feel Haruichi standing next to him, curiosity pouring from him. The rest of the team had abandoned all of their cheering, eyes focused on what was happening at the plate. He could tell that the audience were also watching, cries of ‘Southpaw duo!’ and both of the aces’ names filling the stadium. The cheers rose to crescendo when the two pitchers folded, arms wrapping around each other in a fierce hug.
“Good to see those two egotistic idiots didn’t let this get to them,” A low voice huffed from next to him, and Youichi turned to Miyuki with a raised eyebrow. He gave a quirk of his lips in return, and Youichi decided to drop it, returning to watch Sawamura instead.
Sawamura had his arm swung around Narumiya’s shoulders, who was crying and laughing at the same time, cheeks red from tears that continued to fall, but lips turned up into a bright laugh as the two talked. Youichi’s breath caught, and he could only watch Sawamura, who was in the same boat; his eyes were rimmed red with tears, while a large, pleased grin rested on his lips. The two separated in between their dugouts with one final hug, lingering to give each other identical punches on each other’s pitching shoulders, before finally breaking off.
Youichi couldn’t help the small sigh of relief as Sawamura sprinted towards them, a smile so wide it must hurt his cheeks as he threw himself at them. He reached out and grabbed the dumbass in his arms, forgoing the headlock to let the team surround their ace with cries of victory and back pats—their ace that had led them to Koushien like he had promised.
And if a part of Youichi knew the tears that were streaming down Sawamura’s cheeks were partly from joy at winning the tournament, and partly from being so idiotically empathetic for Narumiya’s loss, then he huffed it off with the thought that, I knew his heart was too big for his own good.
5.
Practice before Koushien was grueling. Kawakami felt like his arms were going to fall off—either that, or his entire body would just stop working and collapse. All of the pitchers had been working nonstop, if not in the bullpen, then being put through the paces in fielding by the coach. Even Sawamura, who everyone was used to being obnoxiously loud and cheerful during practice, had quieted down by this time of the day, as everyone began to gather in the diamond to pitch with live batters.
Kawakami sank onto the bench with Furuya and Toujou next to him, grateful for the reprieve. Obviously, he had wanted the ace position just as much as any self respecting pitcher, but at times like this, he was grateful that someone like Sawamura, with seemingly never ending stamina, had beaten them all to it. Even Furuya was lacking in fighting spirit, already sweating buckets halfway into afternoon practice.
A glance out at the mound told him that while Sawamura may seem better off, he wasn’t actually doing that much better. He could hear the chattering come from the small audience they tended to gather during open practices, but ignored it for watching Sawamura. He was slowly winding up for a pitch, more from exhaustion than for theatrics. Miyuki didn’t seem any better, shoulder moving sluggishly during some of the more complex outs.
Kawakami winced in pain when Sawamura groaned loudly after Kuramochi forced him into a pick off, rubbing his own pitching shoulder. It was already a pain in the ass to do regular pitching right now; he didn’t envy Sawamura for having to deal with their shortstop’s wily moves and cackles in the field.
“Eijun! What was that pitiful pick off, you brat!” A loud voice echoed across the field to everyone’s astonishment, the aforementioned included. Kawakami followed the sound to see a group of startlingly familiar players sitting in the first row of bleachers with wide, playful grins on their faces.
“Mei? What are you guys doing here?” Sawamura’s voice was equally as loud, face scrunched up in confusion as he took in the group. His question was met with laughter, as the players stood up and leaned against the fence.
“We’ll tell you if we can come in,” Sanada teased, one arm already over the fence. Kawakami watched Sawamura turn pleading eyes to Miyuki, Kuramochi and Zono, eyes wide and practically watering. He winced, turning away; it was practically impossible to deny Sawamura when he turned those eyes on you.
“... Fine,” Miyuki finally relented, releasing a long suffering sigh.
Kawakami hid a snort in the crook of his elbow; he knew there was no way Miyuki would say no when Sawamura asked like that. He watched with poorly concealed amusement as Sawamura lit up, sprinting over to the fence to beckon the group in with wildly waving arms. The group reciprocated, nimbly hopping over the fence to meet Sawamura halfway, loud noises coming from the group as they hugged and ruffled Sawamura’s hair in greeting.
“So,” Kuramochi began, when everyone had gathered over by the dugout for a brief break, “why are all of you here?”
‘All of you,’ being Narumiya, Sanada, Amahisa, and Shunshin, of all people. Kawakami had nearly squawked out of fear, intimidated by the flashing of Shunshin’s glasses when he first approached the dugout, towering over most of the players. He gulped, watching them out of the corner of his eyes. He had no idea how Sawamura could stand comfortably in the middle of them, eyes curled up into a laugh at something Sanada had murmured into his ear.
“All four of us were free, and decided to stop by before we inevitably become too busy or have to leave the country,” Shunshin answered, standing tall and straight in the shadow of the dugout. Narumiya was slumped onto the railing next to him, idly chewing gum with a grin.
“More like we came to keep this brat on his toes! He’s representing all of us aces at Koushien—I’ve gotta make sure he’s doing it right,” Narumiya sneered, which turned into a shriek when Sawamura’s hand flew out and jabbed him in the ribs. Their hands turned into a blur of jabs, the two basically wrestling at this point.
“I just wanted to see if he’s got any new pitches,” Amahisa grinned, arms crossed as he cast a challenging look at the rest of the first string, who bristled at the poorly hidden threat.
“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see them at Kous—oh,” Miyuki paused with purpose, a sharp smirk flashing across his lips, “—wait, you won’t be there.”
“It’s okay,” Miyuki simpered, ignoring the way the other players’ faces had hardened, “you four can always watch the live streams.”
Kawakami coughed to hide his laugh at the gobsmacked looks on the players faces, tilting his face away from the conversation. He could hear the arguing devolve into almost elementary level insults, with Narumiya screaming about ‘irritating four eyed catchers,’ while Sawamura loudly declared something about how they had to team up as pitchers to take down evil catchers, which only increased the volume of their argument.
When he finally looked back at them, a small part of him wondered (again) at how easily Sawamura fit in amongst a practically legendary group of aces, slotted under the weight of Amahisa’s arm on his shoulders and standing next to Narumiya like he belonged there. The glow surrounding them was hard to look at, and Kawakami wondered, not for the last time, when Sawamura had run so far ahead of him.
+ 1
Eijun isn’t quite sure how he gets himself into these situations. These situations as in sitting next to Kazuya in his room while the team plays a shitty rendition of truth or dare that had devolved into personal retributions or the team ganging up on one person. He felt like falling asleep, drowsy from the steam of the baths he had just left.
Eijun slumped into Kazuya, grinning when the catcher let out a small ‘oomph’ at the sudden weight. His grin turned into a soft smile at the arm that circled his shoulders moments later, bringing the two of them closer together. Eijun flushed at the way Kazuya’s fingers began to play with the baby hairs along his nape, fingernails scratching soothing patterns into his scalp. He hummed, watching the team with half-lidded eyes as they tried to pick who to ask next.
“Oh, I got it. ‘Mura! Truth or dare?” Kanemaru’s voice was loud, but Eijun thought it suited their team: loud and bright, glowing everytime they got on the field.
“Truth,” Eijun replied, still in too much of a daze to force himself away from Kazuya’s side to do whatever crazy dare they could no doubt come up with. The only dare he’d be okay with at this point was if they told him to fall asleep in Kazuya’s arms.
He was so tired that he didn’t notice the burst of whispers when he said ‘truth’, all of the players turning to each other with conspiring grins.
( “I got it! I got it! Let’s ask him about all those friends he has outside of the team,” Toujou suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.
“We could ask him about his favorite player or something, see where his loyalties lie,” Haruichi suggested, a downright evil slant to his smile. The team had long gotten over their ace’s tendency to become friends with everyone he met, but that didn’t mean a bit of possessiveness didn’t linger in them.
“Yeah,” Kuramochi agreed, eyes narrowed as he cracked his knuckles. “That idiot better not pick someone like Narumiya, or I swear I’ll ship him to Inashiro myself.” )
“Okay—who’s your favorite player in the league?” Kanemaru finally asked, detaching himself from the circle the players had formed to discuss what question to ask Eijun, who had ignored all of it.
“Chri—”
“Someone not retired,” Kanemaru interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose at the predictable answer. Eijun squinted, before shrugging. It wasn’t something that required thinking—he already knew the answer.
“My boyfriend,” Eijun answered bluntly, ignoring the shocked silence of the team to burrow deeper into a shaking Kazuya; the exhaustion was slamming into him, and he just wanted to go to sleep. Eijun looked up to see his boyfriend trembling with barely restrained laughter, which finally broke through when they made eye contact.
“BOYFRIEND?!” The team yelled, and Eijun winced, tempted to cover his ears with his hands. Kazuya was still laughing quietly, his laughter sending tremors through Eijun’s back.
“Oi, it better not be that Amahisa guy, I saw him getting handsy with yo—”
“Oh god, if it’s Narumiya, Aniki will kill all of us—”
“Imagine if he was dating Todoroki…”
“Jesus, that would be like two Sawamura’s dating.”
Eijun rolled his eyes, letting himself fall into Kazuya’s lap with a huff. He ignored the tiny ‘oof’ that fell from the catcher’s lips, making himself more comfortable by yanking the blanket off the bed. He was going to close his eyes and fall asleep right then and there, but decided to have mercy on the team one last time.
“It’s none of those people. I’m dating Kazuya,” Eijun declared, and then, to the stupefied team, closed his eyes and plopped his head back onto Kazuya’s lap.
Eijun fell asleep to the sound of Kazuya’s hysterical cackles and the team collectively losing their shit, a sleepy smile curling up his lips as he dreamed of all the teams they were going to beat once Koushien started.