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“What do you think? Does Seidou stand a chance?”
Katsuyuki clicked his tongue. “They don’t if they haven’t improved their batting. You remember what happened during the spring tournament.”
“That’s true. What do you think, Mei?”
Mei hummed, not looking away from the Seidou bullpen. “If they can’t hit off Amahisa, they deserve to lose.”
Yabe let out an offended sound. “Oi, you realize you’re talking about Eijun’s team? Your boyfriend’s team?”
“So what?” Mei scoffed. “It doesn’t matter even if he pitches well today. They’ve got to score runs to win.”
Yabe huffed. “Of course I understand that, but the way you said it…”
Katsuyuki clicked his tongue again. “Forget it. He’s not going to change.”
“… Such an ass,” Yabe muttered. “What does Eijun see in you?”
Mei rolled his eyes, watching as Eijun finished warming up.
He felt happy to see Eijun, of course, but…
Eijun… looked tense.
Was it because the game was about to start?
Or was it because of something else?
(… Come to think of it, Eijun had mentioned something about his team last night. Was that why?)
Eijun was his rival.
He wanted to see Eijun at his best.
Not only that, but he had promised him a good show.
(He better not let him down, damn it.)
Mei smirked at Eijun’s catchphrase.
Eijun had proclaimed last night he wouldn’t let Sankou hit off him.
Honestly?
He still didn’t think Eijun could do it.
(Eijun wasn’t him after all.)
Sankou would probably get a few hits.
The game started not long after, Mei’s jaw dropping despite himself at Eijun’s first pitch.
What… was that?
It looked like a fastball, but the way it dropped…
The new pitch caught Sankou off guard, too.
(He hated to admit it, but Kazuya’s lead was a good one.)
Sankou probably wanted to go after Eijun’s fastballs, but Kazuya didn’t let them.
Contrary to his expression earlier, Eijun pitched well.
(Taking down the first batter with his new pitch probably made Eijun feel good.)
“Is that really Eijun?”
Mei looked out of the corner of his eye at Yabe, who looked surprised.
“You realize this is the same guy who dared pitch only fastballs to us, right?” Yabe laughed for some reason.
Katsuyuki let out a surprised sound. “He didn’t throw any this inning.”
“What was that pitch? It dropped at the last moment, right?”
Katsuyuki clicked his tongue. “It looked like a splitter, but it didn’t look anything like the ones he threw before.”
A splitter…
Did Eijun customize his splitter before this game?
… Hang on.
That meant…
Mei huffed, looking at the field. “I can’t believe he customized it and didn’t even tell me.”
“Seriously?” Yabe snorted. “That’s what’s bothering you?”
Mei scowled. “We spent all that time together, and he didn’t tell me anything.” He glowered at the Seidou dugout. “The nerve.”
Impertinent brat.
(Eijun wouldn’t get away with this. He hoped Eijun felt his glower from the dugout.)
“He doesn’t have to tell you everything, idiot ace.” Katsuyuki sounded annoyed.
Yabe snorted again. “Yeah, Mei. Eijun might be stupid, but he’s not that stupid.”
“Don’t call him stupid,” Mei said automatically. “I’m the only one who can call him stupid.”
He understood that, of course.
Eijun was his rival and probably wanted to surprise him with his new pitch.
(So impertinent. Who did Eijun think he was?)
He made a face, already imagining that irritatingly smug expression.
His teammates called him a child and some other names, causing him to roll his eyes.
(Everyone loved scolding him for acting like a child, but he didn’t understand why. He was a child.)
Seidou, of course, didn’t bat well in the bottom of the inning.
The game just started, and Seidou still had enough time to hit off Amahisa.
… Would they, though?
Did Seidou learn their lesson?
Mei clicked his tongue, glowering at the Seidou dugout.
The start of this game made him remember the spring tournament.
How Eijun pitched well (and even saved them), but his teammates didn’t come through for him.
He enjoyed insulting Eijun’s teammates to Eijun’s face, but he knew they weren’t stupid.
They knew they had to hit off Amahisa to win.
Disappointing.
If Mei had to choose one word to describe Seidou, it would be that.
… Not that he was surprised.
He knew going into this game about Seidou’s pitiful batters, but…
Didn’t Seidou want revenge?
What was wrong with them?
(Watching them strike out again and again made Mei realize yet again that he chose the correct high school.)
Of course, disappointing only described Seidou’s batters.
Not Eijun’s pitching.
Mei would be lying if he said he didn’t have high hopes for Eijun’s pitching.
(… Come to think of it, it had been a while since he last watched Eijun pitch in person. The last time he watched him pitch in person was the fall tournament finals game.)
Eijun… didn’t let him down.
In the previous games, Eijun had looked tense and not himself.
(Which was to be expected. Eijun had just become the ace.)
In this game, though, Eijun pitched… like someone else.
He was still himself, of course, but his pitching was… ace-like.
(Of course, it paled in comparison to his pitching.)
Compared to him, Eijun was a baby.
A baby bird who didn’t know how to fly.
Mei already knew how to fly and how to ride the wind.
(Of course, he still didn’t know his destination. Many of the top birds invited Mei to join their flock, but Mei hadn’t decided yet.)
Eijun didn’t know any of that.
He was still testing out his wings.
This wouldn’t last long, though.
If Eijun continued evolving and getting better, Mei could imagine Eijun flying.
He already told Eijun he wouldn’t wait for him.
He had his own path.
No matter how much he liked Eijun, he wouldn’t wait for him.
Lately, though, a part of him started thinking about the… future.
If Eijun got good enough, he might join Mei’s flock.
Flying together in the same flock…
That would be nice.
What about Eijun, though?
What did Eijun think about joining his flock?
Eijun’s path might not even cross with his.
(It would hurt, of course, and he would try to convince him. If Eijun decided to take a different path, though, he would… understand.)
Eijun had his own path and his own life.
Only Eijun could decide which path to take and which flock to join.
Watching Eijun’s pitching made him imagine Eijun flying proudly.
Eijun would fly higher and faster than any of the other birds, not waiting for anyone.
Not even… him.
Mei scowled, clenching his fists despite himself.
They had talked about this before.
If Eijun somehow got better than him, he wouldn’t wait for him.
… Not that he needed Eijun to wait for him.
He could fly (and survive for that matter) by himself.
Besides, Eijun promised he wouldn’t forget about him.
(His heart clenched at the thought of Eijun forgetting about him. Forgetting about him and… moving on.)
He huffed, although whether it was at his thoughts or Kazuya’s batting, he didn’t know.
(What was Kazuya doing? He didn’t even try to hit that last pitch. Didn’t Kazuya want to play against him in the finals?)
A few times, Mei could’ve sworn Eijun looked up at the crowd, as if looking for him.
… That was probably his imagination, though.
Eijun should be concentrating on his pitching.
Not looking for him.
(He would be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel good, though.)
Sankou broke the deadlock in the top of the fourth inning, scoring the first run.
Did they aim for left field on purpose?
… If they did, that made sense.
(Honestly? Inashiro would’ve done the same.)
That lost run…
It wasn’t Eijun’s fault.
It was Seidou’s fault for putting a first year on the field.
Allowing first years to play and gain experience was important, of course, but…
That only worked if said first years were already excellent players.
(Like him from two years ago.)
Seidou didn’t have any first years like that, so he didn’t understand why they would take that risk.
… Then again, Seidou’s baseball always involved taking risks.
Seidou’s coaches understood the risks and decided to let the first year play anyway.
Did they regret it now, though?
If Seidou didn’t get their act together…
“Eijun’s pitching well, Mei.”
Mei looked over at Yabe, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you saying all of a sudden?”
“It’s not all of a sudden!” Yabe protested. “I’ve thought that this whole time!” He looked at the field, frowning. “He’s never pitched like this before.”
Mei hummed. “That’s because it takes time. Did you seriously think he wanted to pitch like he had been pitching recently?”
“I know that, of course, but why…?”
Mei snorted. “He’s the ace. He’s only a baby compared to me, but he’s doing his best to fly.”
Yabe let out a confused sound. “Fly?”
“Stop comparing him to you, idiot ace.” Katsuyuki sounded irritated. “Not everyone can be like you.”
Yabe huffed. “Yeah, Mei. Eijun’s on a different path than you. Who knows? He might surpass you one day.”
Mei scoffed, trying to act normal. “I’d like to see him try. By the time he catches up to my current level, I’ll already be far ahead of him.”
(He didn’t want his teammates to know how he really felt.)
“That won’t stop Eijun, though.”
Katsuyuki scowled. “He doesn’t know when to give up.”
Mei’s eye twitched despite himself at the double meaning. “Why would he give up when he hasn’t even reached his goal yet?”
Hypocrite.
Katsuyuki (and the rest of his teammates) were hypocrites.
(Katsuyuki was jealous, but he knew Eijun well. Not as well as him, of course, but Mei knew Katsuyuki (and the rest of his teammates) liked that part of Eijun.)
“Maybe because that goal isn’t worth it,” Yabe muttered.
Thankfully, Eijun didn’t let the lost run get to him, easily retiring the next batter and ending the inning.
Seidou had a chance in the next inning to tie the game (or maybe even take the lead).
Seidou being Seidou, though, didn’t capitalize, their batters struggling to hit off Amahisa.
Mei scowled as he watched Kazuya walk away from the batter’s box.
What was wrong with Kazuya?
This was how he responded to Eijun’s pitching?
(Kazuya was supposed to be the fourth batter. He was supposed to be Eijun’s battery partner, damn it.)
“What are they doing!” Yabe huffed. “Eijun’s working hard and pitching some of the best pitches we’ve seen from him, and they’re not responding!”
Katsuyuki glowered at the Seidou dugout. “Unfortunately, that’s normal for Seidou.”
Eijun didn’t let their failure affect his pitching.
He threw a few more balls than he (and Mei) would’ve liked, but he ended up retiring Sankou’s batters, ending the inning.
“We should get going, Mei. It’s the bottom of the fifth.”
Mei watched Eijun walk off the field and back into Seidou’s dugout before turning away. “Come on. Let’s go.” He scoffed, walking away from the field. “I don’t want to watch this game anymore.”
Yabe let out a confused sound behind him. “Sometimes, I can’t tell if you’re rooting for Seidou or not.”
“I don’t blame him.” Katsuyuki sounded annoyed. “Seidou’s wasting our time if they can’t hit off him.”
Yabe hummed. “I guess you’re right. I still hope…”
He never finished, but Mei knew what he wanted to say.
Mei would never admit it out loud, but he agreed.
Maybe he was biased, but he wanted to play against Eijun (and Kazuya) again.
It was true, though, that if Seidou’s batters couldn’t hit off Amahisa, they deserved to lose.
(Was this really the same team who wanted to conquer the nation?)
Even if they somehow won, they wouldn’t stand a chance against him.
Nothing was decided yet, though.
Seidou still had a chance to turn things around.
Seidou’s batters were pitiful so far, but he knew none of them planned on giving up.
Honestly?
That was the only good thing they had going for them.
Would that be enough, though?
ZZZ
Mei concentrated on stretching, trying not to think about Eijun (and Seidou) that much.
Kantoku already told him he wanted him to rest today, something that he had vehemently protested.
He still planned on warming up, though, in case they needed him.
His teammates cracked a few jokes at his expense, only shutting up when Mei snapped at them.
They were so rude sometimes.
(He was their ace, damn it.)
… Come to think of it, he didn’t tell Eijun what Kantoku told him.
He didn’t want to tell Eijun he wasn’t pitching.
(Consider it revenge for not telling him about the customized splitter.)
He still didn’t like or agree with that decision and having to admit that to Eijun of all people…
It made him angry for some reason.
(He didn’t care if Kantoku (and his teammates) were looking out for him. He wanted to pitch!)
Fuku-chan and Akamatsu (of all people) left in the middle of warming up to check on the score.
(Fuku-chan he could understand, but… Akamatsu was their starting pitcher! What was he thinking, leaving in the middle of warming up!)
Seidou still hadn’t scored any runs.
Mei glowered at the ground, missing the way a few of his teammates stepped away from him at the sight of his furious blue eyes.
Eijun had continued pitching exceedingly well.
Unfortunately, the boiling anger heating up his skin overshadowed any happiness or pride.
What. The. Hell.
What was wrong with Seidou?
Didn’t they want revenge?
This was how they responded to Eijun’s, their ace’s, pitching?
He understood why everyone didn’t fully trust Eijun yet, but not responding after seeing their ace’s reliable pitching?
He wanted to hurt them.
Sure, he had wanted to hurt them before, but this barely controlled fury…
Eijun deserved a good team!
He deserved kind teammates who respected him and looked out for him!
(Not whatever Seidou claimed to be doing because it wasn’t that.)
What about winning?
Didn’t Seidou want to win?
They couldn’t win if they didn’t score any runs.
(Were they goofing off at practice? They were supposed to be the regulars, damn it.)
He felt himself becoming even angrier at the mention of Kazuya.
Kazuya was the fourth batter!
What was he doing!
Plus, Kazuya was Eijun’s battery partner.
His battery partners always supported him.
(Itsuki wasn’t the best batter, and it would be unfair to compare him to Masa-san. He knew, though, that Itsuki always tried his best to support him.)
Why wasn’t Kazuya supporting Eijun?
Kazuya had front row seats to Eijun’s reliable pitching, and it seemed as if Kazuya… didn’t care.
(What happened to wanting to play against him in the finals? What happened to wanting to beat him? Not that he would, of course, but he couldn’t do either if Seidou didn’t win.)
What did Kazuya think about Eijun’s ace-like pitching?
That invigorating and inspiring pitching didn’t make him feel anything?
“Mei-san?”
He glowered at Itsuki, causing him to wince. “What!”
Yabe clicked his tongue. “I know you’re angry, Mei, but don’t take it out on Itsuki.”
“I’m not angry!”
Yabe rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m the ace.”
Mei glowered at him. “That joke isn’t funny.”
“Mei-san, it’ll be alright.” Itsuki gave him a reassuring smile. “Seidou still has a couple more chances to catch up.”
Mei huffed, looking away. “I don’t care about Seidou. What’s wrong with you guys?”
Carlos snorted. “It’s alright to admit you’re angry, you know. We can literally feel the anger pouring off you from here.”
Now that was an exaggeration.
“I’m not angry!”
A few of his teammates snorted, others scoffing.
Mei didn’t turn his head, though, not wanting to look at them.
He noticed someone stepping closer to him out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t move.
“Mei-san, I know what you’re thinking, but Eijun will be alright.”
Mei scoffed. “I’m not worried about him. Surprisingly, he’s doing really well today.”
… Was he that obvious?
“I wish I could’ve seen it.” Itsuki almost sounded… impressed? “I’m sure…”
Curious despite himself, Mei turned his head to look at him. “Continue.”
Itsuki gave him a soft smile, causing him to blink. “I’m sure that’s the pitching Eijun wanted to show you in his previous games.”
Eijun looking frustrated (and maybe even angry with himself) appeared in his mind.
“Yeah, maybe.” Mei almost rolled his eyes at Itsuki’s disappointed look. “You realize we’re taping the game, right?”
Itsuki immediately perked up. “That’s right!” He laughed for some reason. “I’m looking forward to it!”
Mei made a face. “I want to watch his pitching again, but I don’t want to watch Seidou’s pitiful attempts to score a run.”
“You’re not looking forward to pitching against them, Mei-san?”
Mei frowned at him. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, they have to win this game first.” His eyes darkened. “And they can’t rely on Eijun to do it.”
Eijun would hate it, but he seriously felt tempted to force him to join Inashiro.
They wouldn’t get to play together, as this was his last summer, but…
At least Eijun would be surrounded by kind and supportive teammates.
(No one would disagree with Eijun becoming Inashiro’s next ace.)
A couple of their scouts sprinted over to them, bending over and gasping for breath.
“Seidou… did… it. They… scored.”
Some of his teammates cheered, others letting out surprised sounds.
Itsuki’s eyes widened. “They did? What inning is it?”
One of their scouts got their breath back, looking at him. “It’s the bottom of the eighth. Seidou’s leading by one now.”
Carlos hummed. “They sure took their time. The game’s almost over.”
“And?” Katsuyuki stepped closer. “Who saved Seidou?”
Their other scout looked nervous for some reason. “Miyuki.”
“Of course it’s him,” Katsuyuki muttered.
Carlos grinned before looking at Mei. “Isn’t it great, Mei? Seidou’s winning now.”
Mei scoffed. “What are you talking about? The game isn’t over yet.”
“You really think Sankou will hit off Eijun in the time they have left?”
Most of his teammates shook their heads, amusement in their eyes.
Yabe barked with laughter. “No way! Not with how Eijun’s been pitching today!”
Carlos rolled his eyes. “It’s alright to admit you’re rooting for Seidou, you know.” He grinned. “We all want to play against them again.”
Mei clicked his tongue, looking away. “That’s because you guys are biased.”
“We don’t want to hear that from you.”
As they walked through the stadium to their respective dugout, Mei frowned deeply.
He wanted Seidou to win, of course, and felt happy for Eijun.
Kazuya hitting off Amahisa and scoring the winning run angered him for some reason, though.
Finally.
Kazuya finally hit off Amahisa and scored runs for his team.
(It was almost too late. Didn’t Kazuya realize this?)
Kazuya finally responded to Eijun’s pitching.
Knowing Eijun, though…
Mei resisted the urge to click his tongue.
It was stupid to feel this way, as he knew Eijun liked him.
Imagining that happy face, and imagining that happy face directed toward Kazuya, though…
He hated it.
People cheering and screaming brought him out of his thoughts.
Reaching the dugout door (which was already open for some reason) and looking out at the field made him realize what happened.
Seidou did it.
They beat Sankou.
Eijun pitched the whole time.
(He had thought about the possibility of Seidou’s coach leaving the final inning to Furuya, but maybe Seidou’s coach trusted Eijun more than he thought?)
That happiness and… pride from earlier came back, making his chest feel warm.
After Sankou left the dugout, he and his teammates entered the dugout, placing their bags down.
Mei stretched his left arm and shoulder before looking over at Kunitomo-kantoku.
One more time.
He would demand to pitch one more time.
(Maybe Kunitomo-kantoku already changed his mind about letting him rest? He wasn’t that tired.)
He walked over, a determined look on his face.
“Mei! Mei!”
He clicked his tongue, stopping despite himself as he looked around for the person who called out to him. He spotted one of their scouts by the dugout door a few moments later. “What! Can’t you see I’m busy!”
Their scout flinched. “S-Sorry, I just… I thought you should know something.”
… Seriously?
Why now?
Couldn’t it wait?
“Well? Stop beating around the bush and tell me.”
Their scout looked around, clearly afraid to meet his eyes. “I… In the last inning, Eijun hit someone with his pitch.”
His teammates around him gasped, some of them yelling for some reason.
Hit… someone?
Eijun hit someone in the last inning?
That warmth from earlier immediately disappeared, his chest and stomach feeling cold.
“But he’s alright, right?” Mei thought back to seeing Eijun on the field a few minutes ago. He couldn’t see him that well, but he had looked alright. “He pitched until the end.”
What happened clearly didn’t shake Eijun’s confidence, so why?
Why did he feel so… concerned?
Their scout nodded furiously. “Yeah, he pitched until the end. Miyuki asked for a timeout after it happened, so maybe that helped?”
Kazuya finally did something right.
This concern, though…
Mei glanced at Kunitomo-kantoku before stepping toward the scout. “I’ll be back soon.”
He walked until he reached the hallway before running.
… No, he knew why he felt this concern.
He also knew he wouldn’t relax (or pay attention to their game) if he didn’t see Eijun.
Right now.
Eijun had looked alright, but was he?
(An image of Eijun from last year surfaced in his mind, causing him to shove it away.)
Besides, he had promised Eijun last night to meet up with him after his game.
Kantoku could wait.
ZZZ
Ryousuke frowned, looking behind him before looking at Haruichi and Kuramochi. “Where did Sawamura go? I wanted to talk to him.”
He could’ve sworn Sawamura stood behind him, talking to Chris and Tetsu.
Where did he go?
“Eh?” Haruichi looked behind Ryousuke, blinking a few times at not seeing Sawamura. “That’s strange. He was just there.”
Masu-chan frowned. “Sawamura-chan wouldn’t disappear for no reason.”
Kuramochi grinned. “Don’t worry, Ryou-san. I’m sure Sawamura didn’t go far. Do you want me to message him?”
Ryousuke thought for a few moments before shaking his head. “It’s nothing urgent. I wanted to talk to him about his pitching and about something else.”
“Something else?” Haruichi furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you want to talk to him about, Aniki?”
Kuramochi clicked his tongue. “Sawamura’s got a lot of nerve keeping his senpai waiting.” He took out his cell phone. “I should message him—”
A familiar squawk caused Ryousuke and Kuramochi to roll their eyes.
Speak of the devil.
Kuramochi pocketed his phone before looking around, narrowing his eyes. “If Sawamura squawked for no reason, I swear I’m going to—” His eyes widened before narrowing again a few moments later. “Great. What’s he doing here?”
Ryousuke raised an eyebrow at Kuramochi’s glower.
Was it possible…?
Sure enough, he turned around and saw Narumiya standing behind Sawamura.
They stood a few meters away from the rest of them, Sawamura’s eyes lighting up when Narumiya whispered something into his ear.
Sawamura turned his back on them, hugging Narumiya, causing Ryousuke to make a face despite himself.
Sawamura’s relationship with Narumiya still made him conflicted.
On one hand, he still didn’t like or approve of Narumiya. On the other hand, though, Sawamura… looked just as happy (if not happier) than the last time he saw him.
He had wanted to talk to Sawamura about his relationship with Narumiya today, but he knew no matter what he said, Sawamura wouldn’t listen to him.
(Impertinent boy.)
Narumiya looked over Sawamura’s shoulder, smirking at them before hugging Sawamura back, even kissing his cheek.
Ryousuke’s lips twitched despite himself as he looked around at the rest of Seidou’s expressions.
Masu-chan had a wide-eyed look on his face, his jaw dropping.
Tetsu being Tetsu blinked a few times before his eyebrows furrowed, giving them a scrutinizing look.
Tanba, Sakai, and a couple others looked just as surprised as Masu-chan, their eyes wide, their jaws dropping.
Even some of their cheerleaders and managers looked surprised, their eyes shining, as if about to cry for some reason.
Ryousuke felt so happy he didn’t tell them about Sawamura’s relationship with Narumiya.
Their expressions were priceless.
Thankfully, he remembered to pull out his phone to capture some more blackmail material.
When Sawamura and Narumiya kissed, Ryousuke made another face before looking around again.
While some of his friends and former teammates looked angry or disgusted, he knew it was because Sawamura kissed Narumiya and not because Sawamura kissed a guy.
(He and the rest of the former third years hadn’t talked that much about last year’s final or about Narumiya himself. They all knew the rumors surrounding him, though.)
Miyuki, Kuramochi, Asou, and a few others glowered at Narumiya, Miyuki clenching his fists.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” Kuramochi huffed behind him. “We’re in public, you know.”
Ryousuke raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Go over there and pull Sawamura away from Narumiya?”
He didn’t think anyone would seriously listen to him.
Miyuki being the jealous idiot that he was, though, huffed. “Good idea.”
Thankfully, Chris stopped Miyuki from walking over, giving him a disapproving look.
Sawamura pulled away from Narumiya a couple of moments later, laughing softly for some reason. “Thank you for coming, Mei.”
“I wouldn’t forget about our promise.” Narumiya winked. His eyes softened a few moments later. “Besides, I had to come after hearing what happened. Are you alright?”
Honestly?
That spoke volumes about their relationship.
Sawamura let out a surprised sound. “Y-Yeah, I’m alright.” He let go of Narumiya with his left arm, looking down at his left hand. “It… brought back memories of what happened last year, but…” He formed a fist before looking at Narumiya again. “I’ve gotten stronger. I’m a different person and pitcher compared to last year.”
“I’ll say.” Narumiya grinned cheekily. “I almost couldn’t believe that was you.”
Sawamura squawked. “What’s that supposed to mean!”
Narumiya didn’t even wince at the volume. “You can’t blame me. It’s the first time you’ve shown that kind of… ace-like pitching.”
“You’re such an ass! I can’t believe…!” Sawamura let out a surprised sound. “Wait, what?”
Ryousuke almost rolled his eyes.
Narumiya rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“You…” Sawamura grabbed the front of Narumiya’s jersey with his left hand. “You mean it?”
Narumiya gave him a serious look. “You showed everyone why you’re Seidou’s ace. I’m proud of you.”
The back of Sawamura’s ears turned pink. “You’re not just saying that, right?”
“Of course not.” Narumiya scoffed. “I wouldn’t lie to you or give you false praise. Besides…” He clicked his tongue. “Your pitching was the only good thing about that game.”
The rest of Seidou, especially the first string, glowered at Narumiya.
Sawamura let out an insulted sound. “That isn’t true! We won, didn’t we!”
“Barely.” Narumiya snorted. “It was almost too late.” He looked over Sawamura’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the first string. “Are you guys really aiming to conquer the nation?”
Kuramochi stepped closer, glowering at Narumiya. “You’re not allowed to scold us! You’re not even on our team!”
“I’m just asking.” Narumiya shrugged before smirking. “What, I’m not allowed to worry about my boyfriend’s team?”
Sawamura pulled away from Narumiya, turning around to look at them before frowning deeply at Narumiya. “Stop picking a fight with them, Mei.”
Narumiya wrapped his left arm around his waist, his smirk widening as everyone shot him a dirty look. “I’m telling the truth.” He scoffed. “You guys don’t stand a chance against me with that display of pathetic batting.”
Sawamura glared at him, but he didn’t move away from Narumiya’s touch. He even… relaxed and moved closer, wrapping his right arm around Narumiya’s waist a few moments later. “We did our best.”
“Don’t worry.” Narumiya grinned cheekily. “I’m not talking about your batting.” He patted the top of his head with his free hand. “I wasn’t expecting anything from you.”
Sawamura’s mouth opened and closed several times. “You…!” he managed to splutter a few moments later. “You…!”
Narumiya looked at the first string, tilting his chin condescendingly. “You guys on the other hand… I thought you learned your lesson from the spring tournament.” His eyes glinted dangerously. “You guys will regret it if you bore me.”
Ryousuke furrowed his eyebrows.
He didn’t know Narumiya that well, but it almost sounded like Narumiya was… angry.
Was this because Seidou and Inashiro were rivals?
Or was it because of something else?
He looked over at Sawamura, who kept acting like a goldfish.
… No, someone else?
Kuramochi scowled. “Who do you think you are? You can’t walk over here and talk to us like that!”
“You’re… angry?”
Everyone looked at Sawamura, surprised.
Sawamura looked at Narumiya, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why are you angry?”
Ryousuke’s lips twitched.
He was right.
Narumiya stared at him for a few moments before snorting. “I’m not angry with you.”
“Why are you angry with my teammates?”
Narumiya clicked his tongue. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said sarcastically. “Maybe it was because of that pathetic display of batting? Or maybe it’s because you did so well, and they didn’t even seem to care?” He huffed, looking at the first string. “My teammates always responded to my pitching.”
Most of the first string, especially Kuramochi and Miyuki, looked guilty.
Sawamura frowned deeply, looking between his teammates and Narumiya, as if not sure whether to defend his teammates or let Narumiya continue.
“What were you guys doing?” Narumiya glowered at them before looking at Miyuki. “And you! You’re supposed to be his battery partner! You didn’t feel anything from his pitching?”
Miyuki frowned deeply. “It’s true I made Sawamura wait, but I… We came through in the end.”
“Whatever. You guys better not disappoint me when we play against each other.” Narumiya glowered at them one more time before looking at Sawamura, his eyes softening. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Sawamura glanced at his teammates before following Narumiya.
They didn’t walk too far away, stopping under a nearby tree and talking in soft voices.
Kuramochi clenched his fists. “Who does that guy think he is? He can’t just walk over and insult us like that.”
Haruichi hummed. “Yes, I didn’t like that either.”
“Speaking of Narumiya…” Ryousuke raised his voice, causing everyone around to look at him. “I heard something interesting happened a little over a week ago.”
Miyuki and Kuramochi noticeably tensed, the rest of the first string either flinching or looking nervous.
“I couldn’t believe it at first, you know.” Ryousuke stepped closer to Kuramochi and Miyuki, grinning sinisterly. “I never thought you guys would be that stupid.”
Miyuki and Kuramochi turned to face him, Kuramochi trying to hide behind Miyuki.
Miyuki furrowed his eyebrows. “Ryou-san, I thought you…” When Ryousuke only raised an eyebrow, he gestured to Narumiya. “I thought you don’t approve of their relationship.”
Kuramochi nodded, although whether it was to himself or because he agreed with Miyuki, he didn’t know. “You don’t even like their relationship, Ryou-san.”
“I might not approve of their relationship.” Ryousuke stepped closer, taking delight in the way they flinched. “Or even like it, but…” His eyes gleamed dangerously. “I’m not stupid enough to get in the way of Sawamura’s happiness.”
Kuramochi held up his hands. “We already learned our lesson, I promise, Ryou-san. We even apologized to Sawamura.” He elbowed Miyuki. “Right, Miyuki?”
Miyuki shot him a dirty look, but he nodded a few moments later. “We won’t do anything like that again, Ryou-san.”
Ryousuke almost gave in, seeing their sincere faces.
They clearly regretted it.
An image of Sawamura crying appeared in his mind.
… On second thought, they hadn’t suffered enough.
(After hearing what happened from Chris and Haruichi, he had been furious with them. Especially after hearing how their… game made Sawamura cry.)
He refused to let them off easy.
He hummed. “I heard Chris scolded you.”
They blinked, Kuramochi frowning deeply. “Ryou-san, what…?”
“I also heard you didn’t regret doing it at first.” Ryousuke narrowed his eyes. “Chris had to scold you before you guys realized you hurt Sawamura.”
Kuramochi winced, looking guilty. “… We thought we were doing the right thing, Ryou-san.”
Miyuki looked just as guilty. “We didn’t mean to hurt Sawamura that badly.”
“It’s a shame I’m only hearing about this now.” Ryousuke smiled innocently at their confused looks. “If Sawamura wanted revenge, I could’ve easily made you guys pay.” He gestured to his phone. “I wouldn’t even have to use this to do it.”
Kuramochi paled, glancing at Miyuki. “R-Ryou-san, you wouldn’t…!”
Ryousuke raised an eyebrow, opening Kuramochi’s blackmail folder on his phone and showing it to him.
“You’re making things worse,” Miyuki muttered.
Kuramochi shot him a dirty look. “I don’t see you helping.”
Ryousuke pocketed his phone, looking at the rest of the first string. “That goes for the rest of you, too.” His eyes glinted dangerously. “You better not do something like that again.”
The rest of the first string paled, apologizing to him and promising they wouldn’t.
“One more thing.” Ryousuke frowned deeply. “I hate to admit it, but I agree with Narumiya. You guys need to work on your batting.”
Kuramochi frowned. “But we have been working on our batting,” he muttered.
“You won’t be able to hit off Narumiya let alone the top teams in the country if you don’t.” Ryousuke gave Kuramochi a warning look.
Kuramochi shivered. “I promise we’ll work on it some more, Ryou-san.” He looked at Miyuki. “Right, Miyuki?”
Miyuki gave him a determined look. “We will get our revenge.”
“For your sake, I hope you do.” Ryousuke turned away, deciding they had enough.
He waited until they walked away before looking over at Sawamura and Narumiya.
Sawamura and Narumiya stood under that same tree, talking in soft voices.
Narumiya said something that made Sawamura’s eyes light up.
Sawamura smiled that warm, happy, infectious smile of his, stepping closer and tugging on Narumiya’s jersey sleeve, excitement in his eyes.
With the finals fast approaching, Ryousuke would be lying if he said he didn’t think about Sawamura’s relationship.
He didn’t know how Narumiya would react if Inashiro lost.
Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, he looked away from them.
Not if.
When.
(Seidou would get their revenge. He refused to watch Inashiro beat them again.)
Narumiya… probably wouldn’t react well to Inashiro’s loss.
He might even yell at Sawamura.
Narumiya wasn’t stupid, though.
He knew what would happen if he hurt Sawamura.
ZZZ
After making sure none of Eijun’s teammates followed them, Mei huffed. “I can’t believe them.”
“It wasn’t on purpose, Mei.” Eijun smiled a soft smile.
Mei narrowed his eyes. “I know that!”
Eijun winced at the volume, glaring at him. “You don’t need to yell at me.”
“… I’m sorry.” Mei’s eyes softened. He reached out, squeezing his hand gently. “I know it wasn’t on purpose, but it felt like…” He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to think of the words. “They weren’t trying hard enough.”
Eijun hummed. “Amahisa-san’s a really good pitcher, you know.”
“Not as good as me,” Mei said automatically. At Eijun’s dirty look, he rolled his eyes. “I know, okay? They still should’ve tried harder.”
Eijun stepped closer, squeezing his hand and smiling a soft smile. “Thank you, Mei.”
… Huh?
Mei blinked a few times. “Thank you?”
“I know you got angry for my sake.” Eijun grinned devilishly. “Defending me like that… You looked like a knight in shining armor.”
Mei smirked. “Don’t you mean I looked like a king? A king can wear armor, too, you know.”
Eijun’s grin widened. His eyes gleamed mischievously. “Yeah, sure. You looked like a king.”
“You don’t even mean that!”
Eijun laughed, Mei wanting to hate that happy sound. “Still… It made me happy.” His devilish grin returned to his face. “I like it whenever the king defends me.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Mei warned. “It won’t happen all the time.”
Eijun’s eyes softened. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I really appreciate it, Mei.”
Mei flushed, looking away from those soft eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Mei?”
He looked back at Eijun, raising an eyebrow.
“I know you said it earlier, but…” Eijun rubbed the back of his head.
Mei felt tempted to walk over and punch Eijun’s teammates. “Fine. I’ll say it one more time.” He gave him a serious look. “You showed everyone why you’re Seidou’s ace. I’m proud of you.”
Eijun flushed, smiling his smile. “That means a lot, coming from you.” He puffed his chest out. “I promised you a good show after all.”
“Your batting still needs a lot of work, though.” Mei grinned cheekily.
Eijun shot him a dirty look, causing him to snicker. “I already know that, you ass.”
“I seem to remember you promising me that you wouldn’t let Sankou hit off you.” Mei’s grin widened as Eijun’s flush darkened.
Eijun huffed. “It can’t be helped! I was up against Sankou!” He kicked the ground in front of him. “Besides… You’re the one who said that would be impossible.”
“For you maybe.” Mei smirked. “It wouldn’t be impossible for me, though.”
Eijun snorted. “I don’t believe that. Sankou’s a strong team, you know.”
Mei raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to tell you about Inashiro’s previous games with Sankou?”
“You mean listen to you brag about yourself?” Eijun rolled his eyes. “No thanks.”
Mei shrugged. “That’s your loss. You’ll regret not listening one day.”
“Like that day will ever come.”
Mei sniffed exaggeratedly. “So rude. You’ve been hanging out with Kazuya too much.”
Eijun raised an eyebrow. “Well, he is my catcher.” At his dirty look, he grinned devilishly. “Relax. That side of me has always been there.”
“… I still think he’s influencing you.”
Eijun laughed loudly, which didn’t reassure him.
Mei hated to admit it (even to himself), but he knew Eijun told the truth.
That impertinent, sometimes evil side of him had always been there.
“He’s not even looking at us.”
Mei blinked. “Eh?”
Eijun furrowed his eyebrows. “Miyuki-senpai. He’s not even looking at us.” He looked in the direction of his teammates. “I don’t know why you’re so worried about him.”
“He’s not stupid, you know.” Mei rolled his eyes. “He’s not going to look at us the whole time.”
Eijun looked back at him, frowning deeply. “You’re the one who…” He shook his head for some reason. “Forget it.”
Gladly.
Mei wasn’t ready to tell Eijun about Kazuya’s feelings for him, and he hoped he never had to.
He had brought up Kazuya’s feelings for him before, but Eijun never believed him.
Eijun looked in the direction of his teammates again. “He and Kuramochi-senpai are talking to Onii-san about something. I wonder why?”
Mei let out a disinterested hum. “Who knows? More importantly…” He forced Eijun to look at him. “Why aren’t you looking at me?”
“Eh?”
Mei clicked his tongue. “You’re with me right now. Stop looking at them when I’m in front of you.”
Eijun blinked a few times before laughing loudly. “You’re such a brat,” he teased, leaning in close. “I’ll give you all my attention starting now, okay?”
“I don’t know why you’re laughing about it,” Mei muttered, hurt. “You remember we have a time limit, right?”
Did Eijun seriously forget?
Eijun’s eyes widened before softening. “I’m sorry, Mei. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“… You better be sorry.”
Eijun squeezed his hand gently. “I promise I won’t look away from you.”
Oh?
Mei’s lips twitched despite himself. “What about if your teammates call out to you?”
“I won’t look away.”
Mei grinned cheekily, unable to resist. “What about if your coach calls out to you?”
“… Are you trying to get me in trouble?”
Mei laughed loudly. “Don’t worry. I can always hide you at Inashiro if you need a hiding place.”
Eijun snorted. “I could never do that.”
“Why not!”
Eijun shivered. “Boss would probably take away my ace number.”
Mei hummed. “Then come to Inashiro.” He smirked as Eijun’s jaw dropped. “I’m going to retire soon anyway.”
He already knew Eijun’s answer and respected his choice, but… he couldn’t resist.
Eijun’s mouth opened and closed several times. “I… You… I already told you I’m not leaving Seidou.”
“That’s too bad.” Mei clicked his tongue. “I can’t think of anyone else who deserves my ace number.”
(He tried not to take it personally, but as expected, Eijun’s rejection still hurt.)
Eijun’s whole face turned pink (much to his amusement). “What… What about Akamatsu?”
“Are you kidding?” Mei scoffed. “He’s not ready yet. The ace number will only crush him.”
Eijun grinned devilishly. “So you do care.”
If he thought Mei would admit to it, he had another thing coming.
“Of course I care.” Mei furrowed his eyebrows. “I already know Inashiro will be a weaker team after I retire. I don’t want them to lose just because I’m no longer there.”
Eijun snorted. “You and your ego.”
“It’s the truth, and you know it.” Mei smirked. “You and your teammates probably can’t wait until I retire, huh?”
Eijun’s devilish grin returned to his face. “You’re right. We can’t wait because it means we won’t have to see your face anymore.”
“My face isn’t ugly!”
Eijun’s grin widened. “I never said that.”
“You implied it!”
Eijun laughed, his loud and happy laugh causing some of his teammates to look over at him.
(Thankfully, his teammates weren’t stupid and knew better than to interrupt their moment.)
Mei wanted to hate the way his heart fluttered at Eijun’s laugh.
This impertinent brat just insulted him!
(Was Eijun blind? His face wasn’t ugly.)
He should be angry!
The crazy thing was, though, that he almost… smiled.
Eijun looked so happy.
(He felt conflicted, as he loved it whenever Eijun was happy. He didn’t like that Eijun’s happiness came at his expense, though.)
The tree’s long branches might shield them from the sun above them, but not even the tallest tree in the world could shade the shining human sun in front of him.
(Mei told Eijun not to get used to it, but he would fight anyone and everyone if it meant Eijun kept smiling and kept shining that bright, almost blinding light of his.)
Eijun finally stopped laughing a few moments later, smiling that warm, happy, infectious smile of his.
That smile…
Embarrassingly enough, that smile affected him since day one, taking his breath away and making his chest feel warm.
While it irritated him at times, he didn’t want to look away.
(That smile was just as special to him as his smile.)
Eijun’s eyes softened. “I don’t think I have to say it out loud, but…”
“Yeah, I know.” Mei’s voice was quiet. “Speaking of pitching, though…” He shot him a dirty look. “What the hell?”
Eijun’s eyes widened, giving him a fake innocent look. “Eh? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play innocent.” Mei huffed. “You know what I’m talking about.”
Eijun tapped his chin before grinning devilishly, almost smirking. “Are you talking about my splitter custom?”
Impertinent brat.
“We spent all that time together, and you didn’t tell me anything.” Mei narrowed his eyes. “What the hell?”
Eijun’s grin widened. “I wanted to surprise you.” He looked smug. “It was pretty good, huh?”
So annoying.
Eijun’s smug look was so annoying.
Mei resisted the urge to kiss that smug look off his face.
“Are you kidding?” Mei scoffed. “You got lucky.”
Much to his irritation, Eijun snickered. “Lucky, huh? I don’t think Sankou’s batters would agree with you.”
Mei jabbed his chest. “You’ve got another thing coming if you think that pitch will work on Inashiro’s batters.”
“I know it will work.” Eijun’s smug look remained on his face. “I’m sure even you’ll be surprised by it.”
Mei’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got some nerve.” He raised an eyebrow. “Humor me. Why do you think that pitch will work on Inashiro’s batters?”
“Because I thought of that pitch while thinking about going against Sankou’s lineup.” Eijun’s smug look finally disappeared, leaving a serious one in its place. “Inashiro’s batters are scary, but they’re not like Sankou’s batters.”
Mei furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“Sankou’s batters always try to hit and never swings and misses. That same lineup had trouble with my pitch.” Eijun looked smug again, causing his eye to twitch. “And you’re telling me my pitch won’t work on Inashiro’s batters?”
… It was frustrating to admit it, but that… made a lot of sense.
Mei refused to admit that out loud, though.
(He didn’t want to inflate Eijun’s already large ego.)
He hummed. “I think you’re forgetting something.”
Eijun furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s that?”
“We’re Inashiro. You might think you’ve got us figured out, but you’re wrong.” Mei smirked as Eijun glared at him. “We’ll prove it to you during our game.”
Eijun pointed at him. “You’ll see! You won’t even touch it!”
“Now, now. I know you’re happy your pitch worked against Sankou’s lineup, but…” Mei’s smirk widened as Eijun glowered at him. “You shouldn’t get overconfident.”
Eijun huffed, cheeks turning pink. “Who’s overconfident?” he muttered.
“It was a good pitch, you know.”
Eijun’s flush darkened. “You mean that?”
Mei grinned cheekily, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Well, it’s not as good as my changeup, but…” His grin widened at Eijun’s dirty look. “Yeah.”
“We’ll hit it.”
Mei raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“We’ll hit it.” Eijun gave him a determined look. “Your changeup. We’ll hit it.”
Mei smirked. “I’d like to see you guys try.” His smirk widened. “Besides… Shouldn’t you be saying that your teammates will hit it?”
“Don’t insult me!” Eijun jabbed his chest. “I will hit off you!”
Mei snorted. “If you hit off me, it will be a miracle.”
“Then I’ll create that miracle!”
Mei’s lips twitched. “Miracles don’t occur that often. That’s why they’re called miracles.”
Eijun stepped closer, their heads almost touching. “I’ll do it!”
“Yeah, sure.” Mei rolled his eyes. “Do your best.”
Eijun glowered at him, his eyes gleaming dangerously.
Mei raised an eyebrow.
Only to be surprised as Eijun closed the gap between them and kissed him.
Mei kissed back a couple of moments later, wrapping his arms around his waist.
Eijun let out a happy sound, wrapping his arms around his back.
Kissing Eijun like this was nice.
Mei loved kissing him earlier in front of his teammates, letting them know Eijun belonged to him.
(He had especially enjoyed Kazuya’s reaction. Speaking of Kazuya… He needed to thank Chris-san later. He didn’t think Eijun noticed, as Eijun always seemed to tune out the rest of the world whenever they kissed, but he noticed.)
That kiss had been too short, though.
He had enjoyed that kiss and would’ve preferred to continue kissing, but Eijun had pulled away much too soon, laughing that cute, soft laugh of his.
He felt happy he got to talk to Eijun and confirm with his own eyes that he was alright, though.
Eijun bit his lower lip, Mei letting out a pleased sound and opening his mouth for him.
Eijun’s tongue darted into his mouth, exploring it for a few moments before touching his tongue, causing him to moan and tighten his grip on Eijun.
Eijun pulled away a few moments later, that irritatingly smug look returning to his face.
Impertinent brat.
If Eijun thought he would let him get away with this, he had another thing coming.
Mei pulled him back in, smirking into the kiss at Eijun’s surprised sound. This time, though, he didn’t kiss Eijun that long, Eijun whining when he pulled away.
Ignoring him, Mei nibbled his lower lip, causing him to moan. He kept nibbling, trying to nibble every centimeter of his lips, feeling smug. Once done with his lower lip, he nibbled Eijun’s top lip, Eijun gasping.
“Mei… You…” Eijun clung to him with one arm, one of his hands running through Mei’s hair, causing Mei to let out a pleased sound.
Mei hummed, licking his lips and smirking as Eijun’s breathing hitched. “You’re so sensitive.” He kissed his forehead, tip of his nose, and his cheeks in quick succession. “I really like that about you, you know.”
“Of course… you do.” Eijun whined again when Mei kissed his chin instead of his lips. “Mei!”
Mei’s smirk widened. He kissed down Eijun’s neck, smug when Eijun moaned and tilted his head. Letting out an approving hum against his skin, he kissed up and down his neck, even pulling down his tank top to kiss the healing hickeys, amused when Eijun’s breathing hitched again.
“Mei…”
He hummed, kissing them one more time.
“What are you doing?”
Mei didn’t look up from kissing his neck. “Getting revenge.” His eyes gleamed mischievously. “I’m also keeping my promise.”
“What promise?”
Mei pulled away from him, smug when Eijun whined. “I promised you last night, didn’t I?” He kissed him for a few moments. “I told you that if Seidou ended up winning, I would kiss you as many times as you want.”
Eijun’s jaw dropped. “That… How was I supposed to know that was a promise?”
“Oh, Eijun.” Mei smirked as Eijun shivered. “We’ve been together for how long, and you still don’t know what I’m like?” He tutted. “I’m disappointed in you.”
Eijun glared at him, pushing him against the tree behind him. “We’re in public, you ass!” he hissed. “Do that in private!”
“Oh?” Mei raised an eyebrow. “But you’re the one who told me to give you a congratulatory kiss.”
Eijun glowered at him, tightening his grip on his shoulders. “That… I wanted you to give me a kiss.” He let out a frustrated sound. “Not kiss me all over.”
“It felt good, though, right?” Mei’s smirk widened.
Eijun’s whole face turned pink, causing him to laugh. “A-Anyway… Stop doing that.”
Mei felt tempted to ignore him and continue kissing him.
(Eijun didn’t know what he was talking about. Sure, they might be in public, but Mei was being careful.)
He didn’t like it whenever Eijun told him what to do.
If Eijun wanted him to stop, though, he knew Eijun had a good reason for it.
(He knew Eijun had enjoyed it and only told him to stop because they were in public. Eijun was… looking out for him. The thought of it made his chest feel warm.)
“… Alright, I’ll stop.” Mei touched Eijun’s left hand before grinning cheekily. “We’ll have to continue this another time.”
Eijun snorted, glancing at their joined hands. “I hope you mean we’ll continue this another time in private.” He clicked his tongue as Mei winked at him. “You’re seriously going to get us in trouble one of these days.”
“Eh? Isn’t it exciting?” Mei’s eyes gleamed mischievously. “Besides… I would never go that far.”
Eijun rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips twitching. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“So mean.” Mei pouted, his lips twitching when Eijun kissed the corner of his lips before letting go of his shoulders. “You’re lucky I have a game starting soon, or I would get revenge.”
Eijun’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of your game… Are you pitching?”
Mei argued with himself for a few moments before grinning cheekily. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
He knew dodging the question might make Eijun suspicious, but he… didn’t want to tell him the truth.
Not getting to pitch and having to tell Eijun that…
It made him angry for some reason.
“Eh?” Eijun furrowed his eyebrows. “I told you I was going to pitch.” He looked suspicious. “And you normally tell me whenever you pitch.”
Mei shrugged. “Maybe I want to surprise you. Did you ever think about that possibility?”
“I know you like surprising me, but…” Eijun frowned deeply. “Is there a reason you can’t tell me?”
Shit.
Mei scoffed. “You’re imagining things. Just be patient.”
Eijun snorted. “I don’t want to hear that from you.” He gave him another suspicious look before sighing. “Fine. I’ll stop asking.”
“Good boy.”
Eijun flushed, glaring at him when he snickered. “Stop making fun of me.”
“Not making fun of you.” Mei smirked at him before blinking, remembering something. “That’s right. I wanted to ask you something.”
Eijun shot him a dirty look before huffing. “What?”
Mei reached out, squeezing his hand gently. “Do you want to go out on a date after Koushien?”
“Eh?” Eijun blinked a few times before his eyes lit up. “Can we?” His face fell a few moments later. “Wait… We’ll be busy.”
Mei hummed, pulling him closer, his heart hurting at Eijun’s sad look. “That’s not true. I’ll have retired by then, and even if you still have practice…” He smiled softly. “We can meet up on your next day off.”
Eijun’s eyes lit up. He smiled that warm, happy, infectious smile of his, stepping closer and tugging on his jersey sleeve with his free hand, excitement in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s true! Where should we go?”
So cute.
His human sun shined brightly, almost blinding him.
“I…” Mei squeezed his hand gently, his eyes soft. “I’ve got some ideas you might be interested in. We should talk later.”
Seeing that smile directed toward him never got old.
(Eijun liked him. Eijun liked going out on dates with him.)
Eijun gave him a gentle kiss before smiling his smile. “I’m looking forward to it, Mei.”
“What, talking about our date?” Mei grinned cheekily. “Or the date itself?”
Eijun rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Both, you idiot.”
“But we don’t even know where we’re going yet.”
Eijun’s eyes softened. “That doesn’t matter. I know I’ll enjoy it if I’m with you.”
Mei flushed despite himself. “You’re so sappy.”
“It’s the truth.” Eijun raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you don’t feel the same?”
How dare he.
Mei narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t say that. All I said was—”
“I know.” Eijun kissed his forehead, his eyes and voice soft. “I know.”
Mei huffed, the corners of his lips twitching. “Impertinent brat.”
Eijun laughed, leaning in and laying his head on his shoulder.
Several moments passed in silence, Mei keeping Eijun close.
It was warm.
The tree above them helped with the summer heat somewhat, but it was still warm.
His chest…
… No.
His whole body felt warm with Eijun so close.
It was almost uncomfortably warm, but Mei didn’t care, not wanting Eijun’s warmth to disappear.
“Mei…”
He hummed, kissing the top of Eijun’s head.
“Your game’s starting soon.” Eijun’s voice was quiet. “You should go.”
Mei tightened his grip around him briefly. “Yeah, I should go.” His voice was as quiet as Eijun’s.
Despite saying that, though, neither pulled away from each other, not wanting to let go.
Eijun reluctantly pulled away several moments later. “You should go.”
Mei clenched his fists to stop himself from reaching out and touching him again. “I’ll see you later.” He frowned, walking toward the stadium, resisting the urge to look back.
He didn’t know why, but something… felt wrong.
Like he had forgotten something.
“Mei!”
His eyes widened at Eijun's voice. He turned around, letting out a surprised sound as Eijun almost tackled him. “What…?”
Eijun wrapped his arms around his back, kissing him softly. He pulled away a few moments later, smiling a soft smile. “Good luck, Mei.”
Ah.
Now he understood.
“I don’t need luck to win.” Mei smirked as Eijun glared at him. “You know… I had a feeling I was forgetting something.” He wrapped his arms around him, kissing him. “I’ll see you later, Eijun.”
Eijun shivered, smiling a bright smile. “Yeah! See you later, Mei!”
After giving him another smirk, Mei turned around, walking away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the rest of Seidou watching them, most of them glowering at him.
He turned his head, smirking in their direction, amused as several of them clenched their fists.
He had wanted more time with Eijun, but Eijun had a point.
Inashiro’s game was starting soon, and he still needed to talk to Kantoku about pitching.
After watching Eijun pitch as well as he did, he wanted to respond in kind.
… Oh.
Now he understood.
If he had told Eijun he wasn’t pitching today, Eijun, the impertinent brat that he was, would look smug and count it as his win.
That would’ve been so annoying.
Of course, he knew he was only prolonging the inevitable, as Eijun would find out soon.
At least this way, he wouldn’t get to see that smug face of his.
ZZZ
“Narumiya.”
Mei furrowed his eyebrows at the familiar voice, turning around in the middle of the stadium hallway.
To his surprise, Seidou’s former third years stood in front of him, most of them glaring at him.
Tetsu-san, Chris-san, and Kominato-san were the only ones not glaring at him. Tetsu-san looked as serious as ever. Chris-san had an apologetic smile on his face. Kominato-san had an innocent smile on his face, although he knew better than to trust that smile.
(How did they even get inside? He entered through the players’ entrance.)
Mei nodded. “It’s been a while.” He had a feeling he knew what they wanted to talk to him about. “Can this wait? Inashiro’s game is about to start.”
“This won’t take long.” Tetsu-san stepped closer, a serious look on his face. “I promise.”
Mei doubted that, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say that out loud or show it on his face. “Alright. What is it?”
Chris-san stepped closer, smiling apologetically. “We apologize for taking up your time like this, Narumiya. We wanted to talk about your relationship with Sawamura.”
Knew it.
“Chris-san, you know what my relationship with him is like.”
One of the Seidou players raised an eyebrow. He had brown spiky hair. “And what kind of relationship is that?”
(What was his name again? Mei remembered his face from their game last year, but he couldn’t think of his name.)
Mei gave them a serious look. “He’s happy with me.” He somehow managed to keep the insulted look off his face when a few of them snorted. “I know you might not believe it, but he really likes me.”
“We can believe that.” Another Seidou player rolled his eyes. “Sawamura’s always been an open book.”
Masuko-san grinned. “Uga! Sawamura-chan wouldn’t be Sawamura-chan if he wasn’t.”
Tetsu-san furrowed his eyebrows, giving him that scrutinizing look he always gave him from the batter’s box. “Yeah. We could all tell that by watching him interact with you.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Mei frowned. “You guys are worried about him, aren’t you?”
Kominato-san raised an eyebrow. “Can you blame us? We’ve all heard about the rumors surrounding you.”
Mei frowned deeply at him. “Kominato-san, you already know my feelings for him are genuine.”
“Those feelings might not be enough one day.” Kominato-san gave him a warning look.
… Huh?
What did that even mean?
(Was he… implying Eijun would… break up with him? That was impossible. Eijun really liked him. Kominato-san didn’t know what he was talking about.)
Tetsu-san hummed. “Your feelings for Sawamura are genuine then?”
It was strange.
Tetsu-san asked the same question as the current first string, but Tetsu-san’s question didn’t sound accusatory at all.
Mei still didn’t like how they stopped him, but this conversation was already a lot nicer than the one he had with the current first string.
(He knew why, of course. None of them liked Eijun.)
“They are.” Mei gave them another serious look. “I really like him.”
Masuko-san frowned at him. “You’re not using him?”
“I swear I’m not.”
The Seidou player with brown spiky hair raised an eyebrow. “You’re not using him to get Seidou’s information, right?”
Mei resisted the urge to rub the back of his head. “I thought about doing that at first, but as I got to know him better, I realized I couldn’t.”
Most of the Seidou players looked surprised at that.
“You couldn’t?” One of the Seidou players looked suspicious. “Why?”
Mei smiled a soft smile. “Because I liked seeing him happy. Because I realized my feelings for him.”
The Seidou players who had been glaring at him earlier looked surprised, some of their jaws dropping (much to his amusement).
“How is Sawamura different?”
Mei blinked a few times, looking at Tetsu-san. “Eh?”
Tetsu-san stepped closer. “How is Sawamura different than the other people you’ve dated?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” Mei shrugged. “I’ve dated a lot of people, but I’ve never liked someone before him.” He huffed, the corners of his lips twitching. “Something about him drew me in.”
Chris-san smiled a soft smile. “Sawamura has a way of doing that to people.”
Some of them grinned, their eyes fond.
“He’s so impertinent.” Mei scoffed. “I could have anyone I want, but the only person I want is him.”
Some of them rolled their eyes, others looking surprised.
Tetsu-san gave him that scrutinizing look again before nodding a few moments later. “I understand now.”
“Oh?” Kominato-san raised an eyebrow. “What do you understand, Tetsu?”
Tetsu-san didn’t look away from him. “I understand he’s serious about Sawamura.”
Mei’s eyes widened.
“You realize you haven’t talked to him that long?”
Tetsu-san looked back at his former teammates. “That’s true, but I can tell. His feelings for Sawamura are genuine.”
One of his former teammates snorted. “I didn’t know Tetsu can use that animal instinct outside of baseball.”
Most of them laughed, Tetsu-san blinking a few times.
Mei had no idea what they were talking about, but he felt relieved Tetsu-san understood.
(It didn’t matter how he understood. That wasn’t important.)
“Kuramochi’s told me a lot about you.”
Mei blinked, looking at Masuko-san. “He has?” He grinned cheekily. “He probably insulted me a lot, huh?”
“He did, but he also had some kind things to say about you.”
Mei’s jaw dropped despite himself. “Seriously?”
That Kuramochi said nice things about him?
He couldn’t believe it.
Masuko-san grinned. “He really cares about Sawamura-chan and likes seeing him happy.”
“Doesn’t seem that way to me,” Mei grumbled, aware he was being rude.
Masuko-san rubbed the back of his head. “It’s easy to misunderstand him. I also know he’s hurt Sawamura-chan before.”
Kominato-san grinned sinisterly. “Speaking of that… We had a nice chat about it.”
Scary.
Mei could only imagine how that conversation went. “Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to tap his foot. “Are we done here? My game’s about to start.”
“I think we are.” Tetsu-san looked at his former teammates before blinking. “Ah… One more thing, Narumiya.”
Mei resisted the urge to click his tongue. “What is it, Tetsu-san?”
“We won’t get involved with your relationship, but we also won’t forgive you if you hurt Sawamura.” Tetsu-san narrowed his eyes.
Kominato-san’s sinister grin remained on his face. “If you hurt him, I’ll ruin your life.”
Mei paled, remembering how he almost blackmailed him before. “I can’t promise I won’t, but I’ll try not to.”
(From what Eijun told him, Kominato-san probably didn’t even need to use his phone to ruin his life. He didn’t know how Kominato-san could do that, but he believed Eijun.)
Thankfully, Seidou’s former third years left him alone shortly after, Chris-san giving him another apologetic smile.
Mei waited until after they left before letting out a relieved breath.
That was a lot easier than his conversation with the current first string, but it had felt just as stressful.
He shivered.
Eijun was a lucky guy.
He had so many people looking out for him and ready to hurt him if Mei hurt him or touched him the wrong way.
(Including both his and Eijun’s families.)
Mei didn’t know how Eijun did it, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.
Eijun wouldn’t be Eijun if he didn’t draw people in.
ZZZ
Mei scowled, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
He had gotten back to his dugout before the game started and immediately made his way over to Kantoku.
After Kantoku refused to let him pitch (again), he had come up with a compromise, telling him he would play in left field the whole game.
(Left field wasn’t anything like standing on top of the mound, but at least he would get to stand on the field and play baseball.)
Kantoku had been stubborn, though, telling (read: ordering) him to sit down and rest.
What was Kantoku thinking, making him sit on the bench for the whole game!
Not only was he the ace, but he was Inashiro’s fifth batter.
So annoying.
What was even more annoying was that he knew his team would be alright.
Inashiro would win without him.
(Winning without him was expected of them, really. He knew that, of course, but he still wanted to play.)
“Mei-san?”
He huffed, glaring at Kantoku again before looking over at Itsuki. “What is it, Itsuki? Shouldn’t you be concentrating on the game?”
“I didn’t get to ask before the game started, but…” Itsuki gave him a concerned look. “Is Eijun alright?”
The rest of his teammates turned around to look at him.
(They weren’t even trying to be subtle.)
Mei almost rolled his eyes. “He’s alright. He’s not the type of guy to dwell on things like that.”
Itsuki breathed a sigh of relief, smiling a soft smile. “I’m glad. I’ll have to message him later.”
“You do that.”
Some of his teammates grinned, exchanging relieved looks with each other.
Carlos grinned at Katsuyuki. “Isn’t that great? Eijun’s alright.”
“Shut up,” Katsuyuki muttered, looking away from him.
Fuku-chan grinned. “I’m looking forward to watching his pitching later, but…” He looked determined. “First, we need to concentrate on this game.” He clapped his hands. “Alright, let’s score some more runs, guys!”
The rest of his teammates looked at Fuku-chan, some clenching their fists. “Yeah!”
“I’m going to get a hit this inning and show off to Eijun!” one of his teammates cheered.
Mei scowled as everyone talked about showing off to Eijun.
Honestly?
That was the worst part.
After watching Eijun pitch, Mei had wanted to pitch and show off to him.
Damn it.
He felt so jealous of his teammates.
The only silver lining was that he would pitch in the finals game against Seidou.
During that game, he would show everyone why people called him the king.
They would win that game.
(He felt bad for Eijun, but Seidou had no chance at winning against him.)
He was looking forward to pitching, but he was also looking forward to something else.
An image of Eijun from earlier today, standing on the mound with his back facing the stands, proudly displaying the ace number on his back appeared in his mind.
He was looking forward to seeing Eijun’s—no, Seidou’s ace’s pitching.