#i love playing as miyuki so much
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I've been playing World of Horror a lot lately
#indie games#indie game fanart#fanart#anime art#video games#world of horror#junji ito#horror#horror art#tw blood#cw blood#art illustration#i am running out of tags to add#you know what would be funny#if i were to defeat the manifestation of my deepest traumas with ithottu flame spam#i love playing as miyuki so much#i like the idea of defeating lovecraftian gods with loyal simps#id be such a simp for kana arima#thats is entirely unrelated#i wish world of horror was as popular as fear and hunger#my brother keeps suggesting I draw FaH fanart but uhh i just cant get myself into the game as much#i do think the lore is hella interesting#the idea of moonscorching is as interesting as Mimi's little experiments
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REDRAW FROM 4 YEARS AGO WAHOO
#you and me and her#totono#miyuki sone#sone miyuki#aoi mukou#mukou aoi#mushartting#fanart#unironically was drawing this and was liek. wow this is what i wanted the original to look like... this is so fire#very happy as well to have finally gotten to play the game instead of watch someone else play it since 2020#(what prompted redraw)#i love this game so much ughhh
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》 even with all the sae in my mind, miyuki kazuya is still no. 1 in my heart 😭😭😭; another silly thought with miyuki kazuya from ace of the diamond; literally one of my comfort animes ahu ahu ahu 😓😓; fluff/comedy; you guys fight over the blanket (you love e/o dearly tho); (implied) mlb!kazuya (bro is your husband); no specified gender; wcc 555; read for a banger 🙏🙏
nights are never dull with miyuki kazuya. said nights include staying up well past midnight playing console games, gossiping about random couples you saw in his game a while ago, and something as simple as fighting over the blanket.
well, this night is definitely one of those.
“stop moving i'm about to fall off the bed!” you complain.
“it's not my fault it's damn cold, who set the ac to 16 degrees anyways?!” miyuki quips.
him and his stupid brain. “you, stupid!” you say as you pull the blanket over to your side with all your strength.
it had been a very hot day which meant a very hot room in your shared apartment. while outside felt a bit cooler with the wind, the inside felt like hell. so here you both are snuggled up in your king size bed fighting over a stupid blanket because some stupid guy who plays baseball set the temperature to 16 degrees and left the ac remote on a very far table in the room. of course, neither of you plan to get out of the bed and walk those ten steps. amazing, right? yeah. definitely one of the worst nights with him 0/10, -1090200 aura points. never doing this again.
you felt a jab on your chest. “hey! watch it, stupid”
“it's not my fault you're hogging the blanket!” he complains.
you take deep breathes to calm yourself before threatening him with a white lie, “okay you know what just because of that im going to sleep in the bathroom.”
then you heard it. he whines. miyuki kazuya whines and kicks his feet like a little toddler. “don't! it's cold and you're going to leave your poor and lonely husband here?! what a traitor!” he turns away from you and hugs the blanket closer to him.
great, he’s sulking now. and worse, he has the blanket.
you sigh deeply, agitated with the way he's acting. yet, it's very endearing.
what a doofus.
you close your eyes and try not to think about the discomfort of the skin-biting cold.
a few minutes pass and you faintly hear the sheets ruffling again—almost succumbing to the sweet embrace of slumber. however, your tranquility was interrupted by two strong arms and a heated blanket around your figure.
you slightly open your eyes to see a pouting thing beside you.
“what's your problem now, kazuya?”
“go to sleep, stupid.”
“okay, whatever. thanks for sharing my blanket with me, handsome” yeah. your blanket definitely.
right as you drift off to dreamland, you feel his lips on yours for a brief moment.
“i love you”
okay, maybe the night wasn't bad at all. +10000 aura points, 11/10 will do again.
and thanks to that, miyuki kazuya woke up to his favourite sight on the bed-–a sticky note that says, hey, just went to pick up some groceries and supplies for my project. you're on cleaning duty today btw. also, mr. and mrs. fluff's litter boxes need changes. pls do them. it's to make up for hogging the blanket :)). love, your dearest 💛. definitely put a scowl on his face.
safe to say miyuki kazuya will never ever hog the blanket…
and forget about the ac remote. tsk. who even decided to put that stupid table in the corner?
it was him.
HELLOOOOO tried something new with dialogue! i hope this was enjoyable for everyone!! even though ace of diamond has a small audience, i can't not write about miyuki kazuya, he's just too 😭😭😭. i'm still trying to find out my writing style so for now, similar pieces will be posted!! thanks for being here and hope to see you soon :)) reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated!! <3
#🐈⬛.scorebook#⚾.ace of diamond#🧢.miyuki kazuya#ace of diamond#daiya no ace#miyuki kazuya#miyuki kazuya x reader#daiya#the hold this man has on me
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I’ve always been a believer that Aqua has always liked Kana more than he was willing to admit
They went on dates
That time they played baseball, and the karaoke
He asked her to join his and Ruby’s agency
He calls her panda
He was so conscious about Kana being an idol and so worried that she would be in danger if people saw them together (not helped by the Ai flashbacks) that Aqua didn’t talk to Kana for a good while
And yet, he disguised himself as Piyeon just to help her
Not to mention he revealed his family’s biggest secret to save her from a potential scandal. To Aqua, Kana was worth revealing that secret
It was a dick move on his part and should’ve talked to Ruby before that, but that’s just how much Kana means to Aqua
I’m not going to pretend that Oshi no Ko, and especially Aqua and Kana’s relationship has the nuance that Kaguya and Miyuki’s relationship has, because it doesn’t. I think it’s going to take a while for Aka to outdo himself with Kaguya and Miyuki, if he ever does anyway
But to me, Aqua and Kana have always been endgame. Every chapter that strayed away from that, only to give me hope again and crush it again, I felt like I was going insane. This chapter really validated everything I was feeling and thinking
I love Akane (I do think Aqua loves her as a friend) but I’ve always been team Kana. I know this is just a red flag for her, (especially because we’re not done with the twins’ dad) but let me have this pls
Aghhhhhhhhhh asdfghjkl*fangirling noises*
#oshi no ko#onk 150#aqua hoshino#kana arima#aqukana#i knew it#oshi no ko is a mess#but I’ll always love these unhinged children
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Notes-General Miyuki & more
Return to File
Recovery date: September 17th, 2024
Description: Gotcha gotcha! If you're comfortable, can you do nsfw headcanons like when they're in a relationship for Miyuki, Mochi and/or Mei
Includes- Aged up Character
Notes: Recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I will say this was actually really difficult, but it was also kind of interesting. That is to say, I'm not sure how I feel about it (the execution, not the prompt itself)
Back to directory
Miyuki Kazuya
A tease, but not a brat
The kind to put his hand in your back pocket and when you point it out says “it’s an accident” but doesn’t move
Runs his mouth, always teasing about the face you’re making or your reactions
Praise him, he shuts up so fast
At least at the start of your relationship, eventually he gets used to the praise and you consider buying him a gag
Until then, oral keeps him pretty quiet
Giving, I mean, when receiving this man is loud
I think it’s pretty agreed upon that Miyuki deserves to be taken care of
He also does not like giving up control, DO NOT restrain him
That’s the easy way out and he will tease you
Instead wine and dine him, draw a nice bath for the two of you, and then treat him to a night of praise and ecstasy
Assuming he doesn’t fall asleep before you get that far, sometimes he just needs a night of pampering
In the same vein, likes showering together; would love to try shower sex but is terrified of injury
Like, I feel like he’d be pretty adventurous with sex if he wasn’t worried about hurting himself and not being able to play baseball
He pulled a muscle once and almost had a breakdown (you know, the kind where you know you need to flex the muscle but it feels like that’ll rip it in two?)
Miyuki just needs someone to care for him, if you can do that he’ll do just about anything for you
Kuramochi Yoichi
Great stamina, I mean it is Mochi
Strikes me as someone who likes his hair pulled
Also seems like he’d fluster pretty easily
He’s a tease, but he does not take teasing well
“Would you shut up?” “That’s not what you were saying last night”
He goes red
I think he also likes trying out new positions
Kind of like Miyuki where he wants to be adventurous but is kind of afraid of injury
But he’ll start suggesting something and then realize that it’s probably not the best idea
Someday, he tells you
I can see him being pretty romantic, not a huge tease
The amount of times you two have been play fighting and it’s turned into a makeout session and escalated?
You have damn near ruined wrestling for him, and it’s entirely his fault
Discovers sex is a much more interesting way to work off excess energy than swinging a bat, and he has a ton of excess energy
Seriously, once after a really bad game he did 100 swings after and then chased you through your house into the bedroom and fucked you, hard
He didn’t get on base once that game, like I said, bad
Bonus points because it means he’s not over exerting himself
Kuramochi needs someone to match his energy and playfulness, and even if you can’t always keep up he’s more than happy to cuddle up with a videogame
Narumiya Mei
Be surprised, he’s such a brat
And a pillow Prince
I could totally see him trying to pretend you’re doing things “wrong”
But you can also see the way he’s biting the inside of his cheek to stay quiet
Narumiya Mei not running his mouth? A baffling concept
Don’t get me wrong though, he still runs his mouth
Like I said, he’s a brat
He also doesn’t ask for sex unless he’s suuper pent up
He just, riles you up until you catch on
Also, not necessarily NSFW, but he walks around shirtless a lot if he knows you’ll stare
To quote Deadpool “Put your greasy tits away you preening slut”
Anyways, I don’t think Mei ignores is partner’s pleasure by any means
Will, on occasion, treat you like pillow royalty but there has to be a trigger
Like jealousy/ the fear that he’ll lose you
And even though he’s a brat, sex isn’t always rough
Honestly I don’t ever see Mei out growing his overconfident facade and that bratty streak of his
But, as he outgrows his insecurities they become less abrasive in his day to day life
#locked entries#daiya no ace#ace of the diamond#miyuki kazuya#kuramochi youichi#narumiya mei#miyuki x reader#kuramochi x reader#mei x reader#miyuki kazuya x reader#kuramochi youichi x reader#narumiya mei x reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#miyuki smut#kuramochi smut#mei smut#daiya no ace smut#smut
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I'm just- I'm thinking about how much I love the Digimon Survive cast's character writing is.
I like how Kaito genuinely wants to be better for his sister and is somewhat self-aware but his traumas and lack of emotional regulation skills cause him to still make Many step backs and cause problems even though he really doesn't want to hurt Miu.
I like how Aoi is internally really resentful and controlling and she covers it up with her "motherly" behavior and gentleness while she scolds people for simply just joking. It's something that's easily missed, especially if you haven't played Wrathful and her focus on being "in the right" is such a joy to watch.
I like how Saki's attempts to seem like someone worth keeping around manifests as her seeming more "carefree and courageous" and not caring about what anyone thinks. Acting as a free-spirit as she's watches how people interact carefully so she can continue pretending she is.
I like how Shuuji is just a mess. Just a mess. He's so self-loathing and self-hating and the way he harms everyone is just lovely to watch unfold as he breaks down more and more. The pressure of expectations and being "the leader" weighing on him.
I like how Ryo is genuinely one of the most assertive and observant members of the entire group but his grief and fear paralyze him at the start and his trouble with talking to people causing him to be rude and off-putting. I like how (in spite of how it works) reaching out to him leads to the best possible ending you can get. Don't abandon one of your own and all.
I like how Minoru's prankster attitude really is his way of helping and also coping and how that sometimes comes off as careless or callous. He's such a sweet friend though. Really endeared me to him when I first played. He really does want to be a hero.
I like how Miu is such a weird kid and can come across (somewhat purposefully) as offputing and really defensive but she's also so genuinely wants to be friends with people and try to trust others. She's so sensitive as well, she doesn't want anyone to get hurt.
I'd get into Takuma, The Professor and Miyuki but this is long and I dont have too much to say on Takuma even though he is also my kid and The Professor and Miyuki make me want to cry so-
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Spending Valentine's Day with their playful best friend
[ SCENARIO ] [ Shirogane, Ishigami, Chika, Kaguya ]
[ Kaguya-sama Love is war / Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai ]
I saw a video of a guy giving his best friend, his bro! flowers and a really bad serenade just because they are friend, it was so funny that made me felt jealous!!!
Also, i just finished watching ultra romantic a few days ago and bro, my heart-
Miyuki Shirogane
Shirogane is conflicted by Valentine's Day, from one part he think is just a waste of money all the fuss with the date and even thinking that people are just being a little exaggerated with the topic, while, in the other hand he thinks is a really good day and just lets himself get just a little bit carried away by the emotions for the day
Deep down he will want to take advantage of the day but he still doesn't let himself do it (he is too busy overthinking and being troubled by it to do so), so when you came around with the idea of spending Valentine's Day together he is quite surprised, he just didn't thought you'll actually ask him (he probably thought you'll come up with something like that but still surprise him)
It would take a little bit of insistance from your part since he insist that there is no need or he doesn't see a point, but at the end he will understand that you won't accept a no as an answer and just give up (although, if you say that you want to invite everyone else too that will actually help to convince him)
He wants to avoid to go to fancy places, he doesn't really want to spend much money and there is no really a need to do it, he is the one bringing up the idea that you can just go and do the usual when you two hang out, at first he will have a little troubles with it anyways
If you two are mistaken as a couple he will be startled and will try to explain that you two are friends, not wanting to create a misundestanding, but if you affirm that you two are together or are the one who start the joke he will be even more startled, wanting to stop you but unable to do it by looking you so happy and playful, the more you act like a couple the embarrassed and troubled he will feel (but won't really get mad)
No matter what, it will take Shirogane a while to get comfortable, even if you two are best friends and have hang out before it will take him a while to start to relax, and will do it little by little, but is sure that at the end of the day he did enjoyed a lot to spend the day with you
Yuu Ishigami
Ishigami doesn't really care about what other thinks of himself but once you two become close friends he is more considerate and honest with you, once growing comfortable with you he will show you more of himself, the caring and the most idiotic parts of himself
The moment you propose the idea of spending Valentine's Day with you, or even directly invite him (you know, playfuly asking him to be your valentine, platonically) he will just stare at you dumbfounded, asking you if you are joking, but if you insist he will ask you why, it is going to be a little difficult to convince him because he doesn't understand why are you doing this but he will accept, he doesn't have anything else to do anyways
He just expect it to be like any other hangout between you two, not really expecting anything special, so the more serious you take this the more strange he will take it, even if you are doing it as a joke he still think is weird, but in a good way, is just you being you and he wouldn't considerate you his best friend if he didn't appreciate your personality
He will probably just follow your lead and do whatever you want to do, so if you don't really have anything planned you two can just walk around or even go home and play videogames, he doesn't mind what you two do he just appreciate the gesture
He won't accept to pretend to be your boyfriend by any term but for how comfortable he is around you and how you treat each other can be easy to make others wonder if you two are together
He will spend part of the time complaining about how Valentine's Day is nothing but a corporate plan to make fools in love spend money, as well to complain about the couples, but that won't last all day, at some point he will stop and just focus on whatever you two are doing
Despite his complainings he actually try to just a good time with you, and at the end it would be really happy for how the day went, honestly he would feel even more lonely and sad this day if it wasn't because of you, he won't admit that out loud but will let you know that he had a lot of fun and thank you for asking him to be your valentine (even if he feels embarrassed for saying it that way)
Chika Fujiwara
Chika is a extrovert and quite caotic person, she will definetly drag you with her to her little adventures, with her other friends, with her sister or just the two of you, it doesn't matter what it is she just want to spend some time with the people she likes the most, her friends!
The moment you bring the idea of spending Valentine's Day together she will totally love the idea and imediatly accepts, even if you said it as a joke now she is doing a whole plan to how spend that special day, she will even ask herself how she didn't think about it before!
Chika seems to be really excited for this, she will start to make plans since that moment and she will be asking you your opinion in her plans but doesn't even let you time to answer for how fast she is talking
However, if you tell her about it the exact day she will get mad at you, she will accept but won't stop complaining about how you can't just do this all of the sudden and you should have told her with enough time to prepare herself (but will calm down when the fun starts, and if you already have a plan she will apologize)
For how caotic Chika is, is more probably that you two end up doing something you usually do in any other day you hangout, but she insist that this is a special day, and will do a lot of jokes about this being a special day because she is a in a total special date with her amazing and lovingly best friend! (and she will probably tease you about being single, even when she is single too)
Despite the jokes Chika is totally up to pretend to be in a relationship with you because of the jokes or to get some attention for being a cute couple, she will even be willing to do it to get a free dessert, however if you are the one who brings up the idea she'll scold you before admiting embarrassed that she actually thought the same
At the end of the day she will tell you with all honestly that she enjoyed a lot spending this day with you, even if you haven't done anything special and just the usual she still had a lot of fun, she even express that she wants to have more of those days and thanked you for being her best friend
Kaguya Shinomiya
Kaguya will be saying that she doesn't care much about something like Valentine's Day and that she doesn't see a purpose on it, when in reality she quite like the idea of it and will actually want to spend it with Shirogane (even if she doesn't admit it)
She is a little troubled when you say that you could spend Valentine's Day together, her initial feeling is annoyance since she want to be with the president, but you explaining that the day is about friendship too she actually thinks that it won't be too bad of an idea, specially if you (or Chika someone else) suggest that all of them can go together for the same excuse
Shinomiya will feel anxious and unsure of what to expect, even if you two had already hangout before. She dress up nicely (but not too formal since it isn't actually a date) and will be a little nervous at the start, even if she tries to hide it
She will mainly follow your lead and do whatever you have planned (or try to go with her plan b and hangout in the less romantic and crowded places, she just want to avoid seeing all the couples)
It would take a little while but soon she start to feel more comfortable and let herself relax and is when she start to just enjoy more of your presence and the silly date you two have, what probably is just the same as the other times you two hangout
Knowing Kaguya she will be overthinking a little bit and will keep her guard up, she is actually paying a lot of attention to her surroundings and thinks about the over romantic environment (for better and for worse), and, as well, she tries to act in a way that it won't be there even a doubt that you two aren't together, not that she doesn't appreciate you she just want to avoid misunderstandings (she already loves someone after all)
At the end she this date was funnier that she thought it would be, and she will let you know (with fancy and polite words), and, she won't admit it but she is looking forward to have more adventures like this one in the future
#kaguya sama love is war#kaguya sama love is war x reader#kaguya sama wa kokurasetai#kaguya sama wa kokurasetai x reader#miyuki shirogane#miyuki shirogane x reader#shirogane x reader#yuu ishigami#yuu ishigami x reader#ishigami x reader#chika fujiwara#chika fujiwara x reader#chika x reader#kaguya shinomiya#kaguya shinomiya x reader#kaguya x reader#x reader#x gn reader#anime x reader#manga x reader
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My thoughts on Smile Precure!
So, I just finished Smile Precure, the 9th installation of Pretty Cure as a series. And honestly...? This season was a blast! I greatly enjoyed the main characters of this season, and even the MASCOT (very important). I felt like they all definitely grew as people the more the season progressed, which was refreshing. (Review below line!)
Let's start with Miyuki/Cure Happy, our lead cure. In traditional lead-cure fashion, this one has to be the upbeat, happy-go-lucky personality type, but she didn't feel generic at all. Miyuki has shown that she wasn't always so "happy-go-lucky" all the time, she had to GROW from her previous experiences ever since her childhood days. She's courageous, kind, empathetic, friendly, and most of all, VULNERABLE. After trying her hardest to show a smile in the darkest of moments, she admits with mountains of tears that it's HARD. She acknowledges she might be naive with her own hopes, but she never once backs down from what's important in that moment. To me, that's what makes a LEADER. Next is Akane/Cure Sunny, a person so passionate that it infects all she touches. Akane tries her best for everyone and everything, trying to keep the group strong in the face of challenges. Even though she comes off as blunt and TOO laid-back and jokey sometimes, that's who she is as a person. She has her own flaws, naturally, but she never shies away from it. Giving up is never an answer when it comes to those she loves. She's passionate, fun, and headstrong, which is vital to a group of friends and as a cure. Yayoi/Cure Peace is also fantastic in her own right. When we were first introduced to her, she comes off as this shy, meek, and fragile person who has strong insecurities about everything she does. However, we find that she's so much stronger than she thinks she is, and she learns to harness her courage. She may cry, she may fail, and she may get hurt, but it's her courage and the support of those around her that give her strength. Nao/Cure March is my second favorite out of all the Smile Precure. A girl who knows how to shoulder responsibility and show care and affection towards companions and family. Family values are built into her CORE, and I love her for it. We also get to see this reflected in her friendships as she won't hesitate to help her friends. Her sense of justice is what drives her, and she'll stop at nothing to right what's wrong. Her and Akane's competitiveness were always a favorite for me, too. And lastly, there's Reika/Cure Beauty. Naturally, I wasn't too into her character as she played the typical "honorable and elegantly spoken" character in a precure series, but I found myself loving her anyways. Reika above all else is gentle, courteous, and intelligent. She had shown time and time again just how motivated she is when it comes to her own goals, responsibilities, and even as a cure. She came up with plans for her comrades and didn't hesitate to hit heavy hits when the stakes were high. Her confidence and determination are what make her who she is. As for Candy, I enjoyed watching her be more developed throughout the season! She started this season as selfish, whiney, and unable to comprehend her situation, but we got to see her grow from that. She learned how to share, to be mindful of others, and to be a beacon of hope when her friends are in trouble. She wouldn't hesitate to be obliterated if it meant she could protect all of her friends. There is love in that heart of hers, and she wouldn't trade all the things she learned for anything. She was growing up. The plot itself was good, I enjoyed how creative they got with different fairytale-eque gags and themes! Wolfrun, Akaoni, and Majorina were definitely some of my favorite precure villains purely because of how they interacted with each other. JOKER, TOO, WAS ABSOLUTELY A SLAY. I wanted to punt him into the sun several times for his fruity behavior. Though, if I had to complain about anything, I wish we would've gotten to see more of Lord Pierrot. We didn't get to see much of anything ABOUT him throughout the entire season until the last 3 or so episodes. And, of course, I wish the Cures' outfits were more diversified, but I have to remember that this was the era of Precure BEFORE they went crazy with the designs.
ALL IN ALL, I give Smile Precure a 9 out of 10!! I loved this season dearly!!
#precure#smile precure#pretty cure#cure happy#cure sunny#cure beauty#cure march#kas rambles#precure posting#smilepre
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superposition ━ miyuki kazuya in which miyuki isn't the fool in love with his childhood best friend. it's you.
━ completed
━ wc: 27k
━ warnings: none
━ you can read this on ao3 as well
You met Miyuki Kazuya when you were eight-years-old. You didn’t know how to feel about him.
You were introduced to him simply because he was the same age as you and you happened to live a few houses down from each other. It had been an attempt to get you to socialize more, as the move from your home country had severely jarred you. Here you were, in an entirely different city and country with strange new customs and environments. The small, eight-year-old you didn’t like it very much.
The move had all been done in favor of the bakery your parents ran, recipes based on traditional dishes you grew up with. The bakery was right next door to your home and always seemed to be busy. Your father was almost always there, running around, making sure customers were happy while your mother played the entertainer.
They must’ve gotten tired of having to split their attention between you and the bakery because that morning before the bakery opened, she dragged you into the yard, where a short boy with brown hair and glasses waited.
“This Miyuki Kazuya. He lives down the street with his father. Go on, say hello,” your mother tried to coax you out from behind her legs, but you stayed there stubbornly, the fabric of her skirt balled up in your small hands. Your strength was no match against hers, though, and she pried you off her skirt, leaving the two of you in the yard of your house alone.
The boy peered cautiously at you. You realized he was smaller than you and relaxed slightly. Smaller kids were easier to deal with, right?
“Do you know how to play baseball?” he asked suddenly, watching with wide, amber eyes.
You pursed your lips. “Not really. It’s hard.”
Miyuki blinked in surprise. “Hard? No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is,” you countered stubbornly.
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is!”
“Can you throw a ball?”
You stopped, confused at the sudden question. “Of course I can,” you huffed, now affronted. What kind of question was that? Who didn’t know how to throw a ball?
“Then you can play. Come on, let’s go. I left my glove at my house.” He turned and began walking down the street, not bothering to wait for you.
He was annoying, you thought, but you were a little curious, so you followed him down the sidewalk to a two-story home a few houses down from yours, right next door to a factory.
“Wait here,” he instructed then dashed into the house, giving you no time to protest. You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. Who was this boy? He was so demanding and know-it-all. And you barely knew him, who was he to tell you what to do?
While you were tempted to not listen to him, you stayed there, waiting impatiently for him to return. You glanced around. The factory next door had the sounds of work going on, but you couldn’t see anything and the windows were far too high for you to see. You squinted to read the sign. Miyuki Steel. Did his family own a business, too?
You looked back to the door as he dashed out of the house, baseball glove and ball in hand. He held up a hand, signaling for you to wait as he ran to the factory and popped his head into the doorway.
“I’ll be home in a little while, Dad!”
There was no audible response, but he turned back around anyway, walking back towards you. He tossed you the ball, which you clumsily caught with a scowl on your face.
“Does your family own a business, too?”
“My dad,” he corrected. “He makes machines. It’s cool.”
That was kinda cool, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you agreed.
“Are you gonna work there, too? When you’re grown-up?”
“No way. I’m gonna be a professional baseball player.” He turned to grin arrogantly at you. “Hey, hurry up. We need to get a good spot at the park.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you muttered, mood souring quickly at his bossiness.
Miyuki shrugged. “That’s what catchers do for their pitchers.”
“I’m not a pitcher,” you protested, following him reluctantly across the street after you glanced both directions, something he’d totally failed to do before crossing. “I wanna be a doctor.”
“That’s boring.”
You scowled, stopping on the sidewalk and dropping the ball unceremoniously onto the ground. “I don’t want to play, then.”
“Fine, then.” He continued walking towards the park, barely sparing you a glance.
You stood there for a second, casting a glance at the baseball still resting at your feet, then at your house that was quite a ways back. Squinting, you could see the bakery right next to it, the door swinging open and closed as people entered in quick succession. You recalled your mother’s words before Miyuki came over.
“Honey, please . . . Try to make some friends, okay? Kazuya is a good kid. He’ll grow on you.”
Initially, you’d been confused. Shouldn’t she have said something like ‘you’ll like him’ instead of that? But now, you understood. He was infuriating.
Yet, you remembered the loneliness of the first few days, stuck inside the house with nothing to do. Your older sister was always in her room, not willing to play with you. Apparently, she’d outgrown you, which didn’t make much sense. Sisters were always there, weren’t they?
Then, there was the situation with your parents and the bakery. On top of that, they were also preoccupied with your mother’s pregnancy. Rather, your father was constantly worrying about her, even though she was only six months pregnant. The baby only came when she was nine months pregnant, so why was he so worried about it?
You frowned, staring at the red stitching on the baseball. Miyuki’s bossiness . . . Well, it could be something you worked on, right?
You picked up the ball and ran after him.
“Wait up!”
You decided that he may not be the ideal friend, but he was there, and that was all that mattered.
Your younger brother was born two months later in the winter of December on a particularly cold day. By then, Miyuki had stuck to your side like a parasite, always asking for you to pitch to him, always asking for you to help him out if he ever got scraped up. And you did it, not necessarily because he was being annoying about it — which he was, but you were beginning to grow immune to his pestering — but because it was fun.
(Well. Disinfecting bloody knees wasn’t fun, but the cringe you’d get out of him when you poured hydrogen peroxide over the cut was always satisfying. Served him right for running around like an idiot.)
For your little brother’s one-month anniversary, friends and family were invited over. Aunts and uncles preened over you (“You’re growing up so fast!” and “You look exactly like your mother!”). It was horrible, so you managed to sneak Miyuki in and made a getaway to your room to play video games.
As you walked down the hallway, his attention was grabbed by your little brother currently napping in his nursery. (You didn’t understand why the party still went on even while he was asleep. This was all for him, wasn’t it?)
“He’s not that cute,” Miyuki muttered as he looked over the bars of the crib.
You nodded somberly. “He isn’t. He looks like a wrinkled grape. Mom said that’s just how little babies look, though.”
“So, you looked like that at one point, then.”
You scoffed. “So did you.”
“Of course I didn’t. I was a cute baby.”
“Sure.”
He reached out to tug on a piece of your hair and you batted his hand away with a scowl. “I won’t pitch for you anymore,” you said warningly.
“Fine, fine,” Miyuki snickered. “Come on. I wanna play Mario Kart today.”
You two snuck out of the nursery and into your room to play games for the rest of day, at least until he had to go home. Or until your mother discovered him.
Your name is called, just as your mother opens the door, in the middle of saying, “— come downstairs we’re all going to have din —"
She stops, blinking in surprise at the sight of Miyuki on the floor. “Hello, Kazuya.”
He stood up quickly and bowed.
She smiled, but it looked strange. “Would you like to join us for dinner? Perhaps you want to invite your father as well? Oh, does he know you’re here?”
Miyuki nodded but didn’t say much after that. You took over.
“He’ll stay. You should invite your dad, too. If he’s not working.” Both of you knew the answer to that, but your mother was still watching you two interact, a curious look in her eyes.
“Well, you know where the house phone is. Come down in a few minutes, alright?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She shut the door. You look down at him. “Working?”
He nodded. “All day.”
You shrugged, pulling yourself off your bed. “That’s okay. You can be with us.”
“Let’s play catch afterward.”
You rolled your eyes as you two exited the room. When you passed your brother’s room, the crib was empty. You could hear your family members cooing downstairs and figured he must’ve woken up.
“Thought you wanted to play Mario Kart?” you huffed as you walked down the stairs.
“I changed my mind.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
For the last few years of elementary school and your first year of junior high, you two were joined at the hip. Junior high also meant that Miyuki was getting serious about baseball. He’d received his first catcher’s glove from his father for his birthday that year. Not that using the one from the school hindered his performance anyway.
Being on the team meant he constantly got into fights with the older boys, so you slowly transitioned from cleaning up scrapes he received from rolling around to bandaging and icing bruises he received from fights.
You’d been making your way to the baseball field to catch Miyuki. You’d already heard of his loss from the other students part of the medical club and worried about his well-being, but when he dashed up the hill, he was grinning widely. Your eyes immediately went to the cut on his face.
“Where’d you get that?” You asked, gaping as he ran up to you, baseball gear over his shoulder.
“Never mind that. I can’t believe you missed today’s game. It was so good.”
“Miyuki, didn’t you guys lose?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point. Their catcher outplayed me!”
You surveyed him carefully. “Did you get a concussion?”
“What — No, I’m fine,” he shook his head, his cap moving precariously with his rapid movements. “You’re not listening to me right now. He was some foreigner, I heard his dad was in the Majors here after coming from America.”
“And this is good because . . . ?” you trailed off, confusion clear in your voice.
Miyuki’s grin turned competitive. “I finally have a challenger.”
You scrutinized him for a few more seconds, long enough for his grin to fade and for him to fidget under your gaze. Finally, you clicked your tongue in disapproval. “Is everything a challenge to you?”
“How else am I supposed to be the best?”
You scowled. “Maybe not get hurt? Also, how did you get that cut? Are you the boys beating you up again? They better not be.”
“I tripped and fell on my way up here.” As usual, he looked utterly unashamed. You had to wonder: did this boy even feel shame? You pinched the bridge of your nose, turning on your heel, setting off for the school.
“Dummy. Come on, let’s go.” You didn’t wait for him, knowing he’d keep up with you without any protests.
“Those fights were never my fault, either,” he disagreed. “Age doesn’t matter on the field and I was just saying it like it is.”
You rolled your eyes, though you agreed. You’d never been fond of the way his older teammates pushed him around; even if Miyuki could be painfully blunt sometimes, you didn’t think there was any reason to get violent with him. And even then, sometimes he didn't even need to say anything for them to get pissed off.
You really didn't like his teammates.
He never fought back, either; said everything should be resolved on the field. You agreed, but the other boys would never think like that. They’d only continue to beat him up because they felt insecure, or he said something about their performance — something that was probably true. He could be brutal but he wasn't cruel.
“Also,” he continued as you two reentered the school and walked to your locker where you held a first aid kit (specifically put there because of Miyuki), “there was a scout there today, from Seido High School.”
You unlocked the locker, rummaging through it for the kit. “And?”
He told you about his encounter (you snorted when he recalled her comment about his height) with her and when he was finished, leaning against the locker as you tended to his cut, he looked thoughtful.
“You think he’d go to Seido?”
“Who’s this kid again? Do you have a crush?”
Miyuki puffed out his cheeks, glaring slightly at you. “No way. He’s my competition. I can’t like the enemy that way!”
You laughed, reveling in this brief moment where you were the one annoying him. “Alright, alright. I don’t know, Miyuki. Seido’s a good school, I think, especially if you wanna get serious about baseball.”
“Should I go?”
You pressed the gauze to his cheek, shooting him an apologetic look after he winced from the pressure. After, you began cleaning up and putting the kit away again. He was awaiting your answer still, watching you with analytic eyes. You shrugged.
“It’s up to you. Seido’s a powerhouse school, so I think you’d be fine, especially since you’re so damn competitive. I just thought you meant you’d challenge him from another school, assuming he went to Seido,” you told him honestly. “But also, we’re barely first years.”
He nodded, but he still looked thoughtful. Too thoughtful.
You shut your locker and shoved him forward, making him stumble on his feet.
“Hey, what was that for?” he yelped indignantly, catching his balance and readjusting the bag on his shoulder.
“You’re thinking too hard,” you replied. “Hurry up. You need to shower because you stink and my mom wants to try out a recipe with you.”
“You’re picking up too many of my habits,” he said, mock-disapprovingly, as you put on your backpack again and fell in step beside him.
“Is Miyuki Kazuya admitting he has flaws?”
“Never mind. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
In your second year of junior high, your brother turned four-years-old. You also finally hit fourteen, along with Miyuki. With that, many changes came. Odd changes. Body changes. You wouldn’t lie. It was weird.
The counselors seemed to notice the sudden plight you all had. Girls stuck closer to each other, gossiping about boys and the like. Boys were suddenly coming in wearing heavy cologne, trying their hardest to appeal to others. You thought it was stupid. So did Miyuki.
That didn’t mean you two were exempt from the mandatory conversation with the counselor about the ‘changes in your body’ and the ‘strange way you may be feeling,’ whatever that meant. Truth be told, it was almost scarring.
“Tell me, have you noticed a change in your feelings to other boys? Perhaps even girls?”
You blinked demurely. “Not really.”
The counselor wasn’t satisfied, her lips turning down for a split second before she fixed into a proper smile. “No to the girls?”
“No to both of them,” you corrected politely. “I don’t really notice or care about those sort of feelings. They’re not necessary.”
“Not . . . necessary?” She asked, confusion as clear as day on her face.
You shrugged. “That’s what my older sister says.” Your elder sister had graduated high school last year and stayed home to help out with the family business, apparently finding some happiness in the kitchen baking pastries. You weren’t so keen on staying here, at least not in this part of Tokyo.
Your mother and father would probably have you stay back happily, too. As your third and final year of junior high grew closer, teachers and parents were suddenly awaiting your decision on a high school. You wished they’d just leave you alone.
“Alright,” she conceded warily. “But what do you think?”
What did you think? Now, that was the million-dollar question.
You shrugged again. The counselor was beginning to look annoyed.
“Well, regardless of that, you should know that some of the . . . urges you may get aren’t things you need to act on.” . . . Wait, what?
You stared at her. “Uh . . .”
“I’m sure you know what sex is —”
You blanched. “Sensei!” That was what this was about? No, you already knew about that, probably too much. The other girls in your grade hadn’t hesitated on divulging private details about their close encounters with other boys and it was far too much information you ever wanted to know about anybody else. You didn’t judge on what they were doing, that’s not it, it’s just — too much information.
“I already know about that stuff,” you hurried out, feeling your face begin to heat up. “A-And I know I shouldn’t do any of that until I’m older. I know.”
She scrutinized you and you wondered if this was what Miyuki felt like whenever you gave him that look. If so, you were going to stop. It felt like she was seeing right through you.
Finally, she sighed and nodded. “You have a good head on your shoulders, so, I trust you’ll know what to do if you’re ever faced with something like that. Remember, though, you can always say no to unwanted advances, alright?”
You nodded firmly, finding familiar ground. Yeah, your father had given you that particular talk, too.
“Girl or boy, you always ask consent and they should, too. Don’t be afraid to say no and don’t be afraid to get out of there if they don’t agree.” You weren’t a pushover. Hell, you couldn’t be one if you had to deal with someone like Miyuki. But even he seemed more aware of the kids that were suddenly looking at you with renewed interest.
“They ought to keep their eyes to themselves,” he’d muttered, stepping around to your other side to block you from the wandering eyes of a group of third years.
You only sighed, burying your nose deeper into the book on medicine you’d been obsessed with at the time. Oh, you could definitely take care of yourself and if need be, fight for yourself, too, but if Miyuki was willing to be your defender for now, who were you to deny him? It wasn’t like you doubted your ability to defend yourself. But he was already there and you weren’t going to waste that opportunity. Basic strategy in your opinion.
“Alright, then, we’re done here. Send Kazuya in, won’t you?”
You nodded and scrambled out of your seat, desperate to get out of that situation. Your face still felt irritatingly hot but you ignored it. You exited the office, spotting Miyuki in the waiting area, a sports magazine in his lap.
“You’re up, Miyuki,” you said, stealing the magazine off his lap, much to his chagrin.
“Hey, I was reading that —” he made a grab for it but you stretched your arm behind you, holding it at a distance. He stood up and you were momentarily surprised, stunned if you were being honest. So surprised you let him pry the magazine out of your hands.
“There’s a good article in here about the catcher that the SoftBank Hawks just recruited, I want to take a picture of it. You have your phone?” He held out his hand expectantly and you had the briefest of common sense to hand your phone over to him. His fingers brushed against yours and you pulled back, as though you’d been electrocuted. He didn’t notice.
You stared at him. When . . . When had he gotten so tall? Only last year he’d been the about the same height as you, if only a few inches taller, but it hadn’t been noticeable. When you’d been kids, you’d always been the one taller than him, but you kept growing and seemed to have stopped now.
Miyuki, though . . . He was easily five to six inches taller than you. What would that be? Five foot nine? Maybe even five foot ten? When had this happened? Was this recent? Or had it been gradual and you just hadn’t noticed?
“I’m gonna need to use your phone later to read this. Thanks. Hey, what does she want, by the way?” He’d handed you your phone back without glancing back and set the magazine back down on the coffee table, but once he’d turned around, he stopped and frowned at you, saying your name. “You good?”
You snapped out of it. “I’m fine, sorry. Just got distracted.”
“With what?” Of course. Miyuki Kazuya never knew when to drop something. He eyed you with barely-hidden suspicion.
“It’s nothing. Have you gotten taller recently?” Curse your loose tongue. You couldn’t help it, though. You had to know.
“Have I . . . ? Oh. Yeah,” he grinned, looking smug now, but there was something different because now you had to look up at him. It felt weird. Strange. “Five foot nine and half, last time I checked. Had to donate almost all of my pants. What about you?”
You scowled, your strange feelings disappearing as quickly as they’d come. “Shut it. Hurry up before Otsuka-sensei comes out here and beats you up.”
His obnoxious laughter followed you out of the main office. “She wouldn’t! I’ll see you in class, don’t eat lunch without me!”
You paused to look back at him. “What if you take too long?”
He grinned in a way that irritated you. “Guess you’re not eating lunch!”
You scowled deeply, swallowing down the curse words you felt compelled to throw at him, only holding back because of the receptionist currently eyeing you two in disapproval.
Prick, you mouthed.
He winked. Bastard.
Saying others didn’t have high expectations of you would be a lie. You were one of the top students in your grade, well-known for taking excellent notes and passing all your exams. Of course, others merely assumed you were just naturally intelligent, but it didn’t work that way.
There were far too many times when you had to split time between working register at the bakery and studying for a test. And many more times when you had to turn Miyuki down for some time to yourself. Honestly, though, you were sure you’d have run yourself into the ground if it hadn’t been for Miyuki’s pestering sometimes.
“I need to study, Miyuki,” you grumbled, switching between reading your textbook and taking inventory behind the counter. He was leaning over it, glove and baseball in his hand with his hat worn crookedly as per usual.
“You’ve been studying for the past three days. A break won’t kill you.”
“It might.”
He huffed petulantly. “You’re ignoring your best friend in favor of school? How cruel.”
You sighed shortly. “Don’t pull that.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sure your little brother would be more than happy to pitch to me —”
“You realize he has the arm strength of a toddler, right?”
“Or maybe Mei would be willing to do it. He has been begging me to catch for him recently . . .”
“Narumiya . . .” you grumbled out, mood souring further. Narumiya Mei was from downtown Tokyo, living it up in the more expensive districts at his junior high where he dominated as the ace. Apparently, Miyuki and Narumiya had gone head-to-head during a game in the first semester of your second year and Narumiya liked Miyuki’s style of catching, even though your junior high’s team had lost phenomenally.
“I’m sure he won’t mind taking the train here . . .”
You clicked your tongue, flipping to the next page of your textbook. “Miyuki, you and I both know you can’t handle him for long periods of time. It’s literally impossible.”
He cracked a genuine smile. “Give him more credit.”
“No,” you refused stubbornly. Narumiya could be so condescending sometimes. The first time you’d met him, he hadn’t hesitated to throw an insult at you and worse, Miyuki hadn’t felt the need to defend you from it. That had been your first serious fight.
“Yes, Miyuki, I can defend myself, but I hardly knew him. Why couldn’t you step up for me? Just that once?”
“You’re making this a bigger deal than it actually is.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends defend each other, especially best friends, so what the hell?”
“If that’s all you’re going to talk about, I really don’t want to play with you, then.”
You had thick skin. You had to, being friends with Miyuki and all. And okay, fine, you were hurt when he had dismissed you so easily. Sure, maybe you were making this a bigger deal than it should’ve been, but nothing had quite hurt as much as it had when you learned that he’d went to catch for Narumiya after you had abandoned him. (Or rather after he’d abandoned you.)
Your older sister had been pissed to find you sniffling about it later on that day, vowing to kick his ass. You only barely managed to restrain her. Miyuki wouldn’t like someone else coming to speak or fight on your behalf. You both were mature enough to discuss it. Or so you hoped, anyway.
One week of no contact between you two had you almost caving and giving into him, but to your pleasant surprise, he approached you first. More specifically, he’d taken the painstaking time to jump the fence into your backyard and toss pebbles at your window until you finally opened it, almost taking a well-aimed pebble to the face in the process.
Of course, he didn’t outright apologize. Instead, he’d asked: “Can we play catch?”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“It is,” he agreed, then held up his glove and ball. “Please?”
You’d sighed, turning back into your room to change out of your sleeping clothes into something more suitable for going out in the muggy July night. It was easy to sneak out, your parents and siblings all fast sleep and immune to any quiet noises you might’ve made on the way out. Miyuki was waiting for you on the sidewalk in front of your house when you exited; you shut and locked the door quietly behind you.
Silently, you two began the trek to the park down the street. You found yourself tensing whenever a car would pass, ducking your head to hide your face. When the third one came round, you finally spoke. “What exactly am I breaking curfew for, Miyuki? My parents would kill me if we got taken home by a police officer.”
You lifted your head once the car was out of sight and turned to look at him. He had a pensive frown on his face. “I . . . I’m sorry.” He didn’t make eye contact with you. (In the present day, you distantly wondered if he’d been taller than you at the time, too. He had, but only by a few inches, not as tall as he’d been during the talk with the counselor.)
You were speechless. Miyuki Kazuya didn’t . . . apologize. Quite honestly, you were beginning to think you had made a bigger deal out of it than necessary. But perhaps that had been a trick on your own part, anything to try and talk with Miyuki like normal again. Up until now, you two had been close, though baseball was starting to take up a lot of his time and the medical club at school had begun helping third years find good high schools with medical curriculum programs so you were constantly staying after school.
He continued to avoid your eyes. “I should’ve defended you. You were right. Mei was being an ass and you don’t deserve that. Only I can be mean to you.”
The last part almost sounded like a defense mechanism, a way to stop this conversation from becoming too heavy. You appreciated it more than you thought you would.
You elbowed him in the ribs. “Is it physically impossible for you to say something nice?”
“Yes.” Miyuki nodded unabashedly. You scowled, but there was no heat behind it.
“Fine, I accept your apology. I’m sorry, too. I did kind of make a big deal.”
He shook his head, adamant now. “I was being a dick. You were right.” He looked at you, a little more meaningful. He elbowed you back. “Now, come on, I’ve been missing my favorite horrible pitcher.”
“Keep saying stuff like that and I won’t pitch for you.”
His laughter echoed off the houses, his eyes looking golden underneath the tawny glow of street lamps —
“— attention to me. Hey!”
Tan fingers snapped in front of your face, making you jump as you were abruptly brought back to the present. Right. Studying, an annoying Miyuki (as usual), the impending end of course exam for your English class. You regained your bearings, finding a frowning Miyuki in front of you. The furrow of his brow told you he was concerned.
“Sorry. Just got lost in thought for a little while,” you chuckled, a little embarrassed. Despite yourself, you noticed how the warm glow of the setting sun accented the golden flecks in his eyes, which were studying you seriously. You tried for a reassuring smile, but he clearly didn’t believe you.
He called out to your mother. “I’m going to be taking her out for a few! She’s been working hard!”
You gaped at him and barely managed to slip a bookmark into your textbook before he shut it and slid it underneath the counter. Your mother popped her head out of the kitchen, smiling in that perceptive way of hers.
“Of course, Kazuya. Be back by six. You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and bring something to your father if he can’t make it.”
He grinned at her, in that charming sort of way he always did for your mother and older sister. “Yes, ma’am!”
You sighed, taking off the bakery apron and reaching for your own baseball cap. You both had gone to a SoftBank Hawks game for his twelfth birthday and bought matching caps for it. It was one of your favorite memories.
You didn’t truly care for baseball — definitely not like he did — but it made him happy, so you never really minded playing a good game with him.
By no means were you a legitimate pitcher, and as you two grew, you worried that your horrible pitching would hinder his performance since you didn’t provide a true challenge, but he had constantly said he liked playing with you for fun.
“Competitions are fun, too,” he’d agreed with your initial argument. “But I don’t have to be strategic or hard-working with you. It’s always been better with you.”
You weren’t sure you believed him, as you’d see the way his eyes lit up whenever he was out there on the field, hitting home runs, calling pitches (honestly, baseball was the perfect sport for him to show off his bossiness; you always pitied the pitchers assigned to him).
But, as you two walked to the park, you listening to him ramble about some baseball game, you figured he’d been playing catch with you this long, hadn’t he? That had to count for something.
Third year meant picking your high schools, pulling all-nights to study for entrance exams and most importantly, keeping up your grades — all the while dragging a reluctant Miyuki right behind you.
“What if you can’t get a scholarship? What if you do get one but it’s only for baseball? They’ll really be paying close attention to your grades then, you know,” you’d lectured him for the umpteenth time since the first semester began. “Having good studying habits won’t hurt you.”
“Yes, it will,” Miyuki grumbled petulantly from his spot next to you on your bed, laying down with his arm tossed over his face. You rolled your eyes, picking out a pencil to use for your assignment that you were about to do.
“You have no problem swinging three hundred times a day but when it comes to notes, what is it? You can’t read now?”
“I’m illiterate.”
You climbed over his legs to retrieve your notebook from your backpack on the floor, then threw it onto his stomach, making him jump at the sudden impact. You climbed back over to your spot against the wall. “Read those. I dumbed it down for you.”
“Thank you!”
You shook your head, grinning despite yourself. He was a real loser sometimes.
The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence, punctuated by the sound of your little brother’s laughter from downstairs. He was probably watching one of his kid shows again. When the bakery began to get busier with the new school year, TV had become a fixation for him, a surefire way of keeping him in one place.
You unfolded your legs out from beneath you, resting them over Miyuki’s legs. He didn’t protest. Not that he ever did, really. Much to your pleasant surprise, Miyuki could be incredibly affectionate, always wanting to maintain physical contact with you. Whenever your class was taken on long field trips, his head always found your shoulder, though you knew it had to be uncomfortable for him because of the height differences between you two. He frequently draped an arm over your shoulders, if only to lean heavily on you and cause you to stumble — much to his amusement.
It was strange. He’d done those things often when you were kids, and they’d only increased in frequency as you’d gotten older, but . . . Why exactly were you noticing? Who cared? Miyuki sure as hell didn’t.
Maybe it was because sometimes, on those long field trips, when the hum of the engine, the feeling of his warm body next to yours put you to sleep in an instant, you’d wake up with the phantom warmth still lingering, finding yourself missing it. Or when you couldn’t help but notice the pleasant scent of something sweet and a little spicy whenever he’d lean on you and it’d be so overwhelming — his weight, the warmth, the scent — that your knees felt a little weak.
You pressed your mechanical pencil harder onto the page, finding your heart beating at what seemed like an unhealthy speed. That wasn’t good. Why was your heart doing this now? All you’d been thinking of was Miyuki.
“The heart should always be beating steadily. The only time it doesn’t is when you’re high on adrenaline, you’re exercising, or —”
“What about when you have a crush, Miss?” You couldn’t recall who had asked that, but it had probably been some annoying underclassmen. A few of the other kids present giggled while the upperclassmen rolled their eyes.
The nurse smiled indulgently. “Or if you like someone.”
“Have you thought about what high school you’re going to?” Miyuki’s voice brought you out of your internal strife. You almost breathed a sigh of relief, desperate for that distraction. You turned your attention back to your assignment since you’d neglected that, too. Then, you realized what he was asking.
“Not really.”
You had.
Miyuki hummed quietly. You could see him glancing at you in the corner of your eye.
You wrote down the answer to an equation. “You?” you asked.
“Sort of . . . I think I might head to Seido.”
You couldn’t say you were surprised. That guy — Chris, you’d learned his name was — had really gotten Miyuki going, a “potential rival” to keep him on his toes.
“Oh?” you asked, feigning surprise.
“Yeah. I got an offer from them. Full ride for academic and baseball.”
“Studying pays off, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t believe you don’t have a school in mind already,” he said, ignoring your jeer. He laid the notebook flat across his chest and turned his eyes up toward your ceiling. “What have you been doing in the medical club all this time?”
You snorted. “Helping the last third years get into good high schools. I don’t know, Miyuki, I just haven’t really thought about it that much.” Now, you were blatantly lying to him. Oh, you’d given high school a lot of thought. The idea of going somewhere far away — such as Hokkaido — detested you, and you knew Miyuki would love it if you’d go with him to Seido. In fact, any moment now —
“Why not Seido? They have a great academic program, you know. They’re always in the top ten national rankings every year for academics.” He was trying to be nonchalant about it, but you could hear — and understand — the message under his words. Let’s do this together.
Your grip on your pencil tightened. The idea of being away from him was painful.
But was that the best idea?
You managed to stave off his questions, only promising to tell him your choices when you managed to find a few good schools. He left after dinner, taking a plate for his own father and your notebook, promising to read them. (You didn’t believe him.)
When you went back up to your room, you went over to your dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer. It was the one with undergarments — one that Miyuki would never touch since he knew what was where. You brushed aside the articles of clothing and took out the thick envelope.
Mimayama School for Medicine and Science
It was in Kyoto, a huge campus that spanned an entire block and was the height of a skyscraper. It was a well-renowned school, one that had perfect statistics and scores in all subjects. The ideal high school. But it didn’t have a baseball program. Not to mention that there was a three-hour train ride from here to Kyoto.
Your grip on the envelope tightened, denting the thick cardstock. The fact that you’d been invited there was something to celebrate, but you hadn’t told your parents, having managed to steal the envelope before they could see it.
Maybe you would’ve celebrated if you lived a different life. One where Miyuki wasn’t there.
You felt guilty for thinking like that, but your sister’s words echoed in your head.
“Don’t allow feelings to influence important life decisions. Don’t think about those sorts of things. You don’t need them.”
You’d been a first year when she’d said that to you, strangely enough. It’d been the same thing you’d repeated to your counselor during that horrible conversation about puberty. And you’d firmly believed it, though there was one exception.
Don’t let others influence your feelings. Except Miyuki.
He was your best friend, after all. You’d be cruel to not feel anything.
What were you going to do, then?
Your answer seemed to come sooner or later. More specifically, the day Miyuki got into a fight.
It had been a cool October day, baseball season already over for Miyuki so he had no choice but to hang around the campus after school while you went to your regular club meetings.
The meeting had been adjourned earlier than usual so Miyuki wasn’t leaning against the wall like he usually would. The last text he’d sent you said that he was in the library, so you began walking over there. As you neared the doors, you passed a few girls, talking rapidly to each other.
“. . . fight. That’s so weird, I’ve never seen him lose his temper.”
“I know! He’s almost always antagonizing someone else, I can’t believe Tanaka was able to get Miyuki so riled up.”
You froze and turned to them, recognizing them as a few fellow classmates.
“Wait, what happened?” You stepped toward them, drawing their attention. They became fidgety and sheepish under your eyes, avoiding eye contact.
“Um . . . Miyuki got into a fight with Tanaka a few minutes ago outside the library.”
What?
Miyuki didn’t fight. He couldn’t fight. Well, no, you were sure he had a few good moves on him, especially since baseball kept him in prime shape and there were his unfortunate experiences with his more violent seniors on the team but they were long gone. Since he was a third year now (and considerably taller and more muscled), no one would dare to mess with him. Especially because he’d proved his worth on the field, that he had a right to say the things he did. It’s just that you knew he hated being at the tail-end of those confrontations. Having to take the hits, while refusing to say anything to any of the adults because they wouldn’t do anything. The violence of it. Violence has no place in baseball, he’d once said. Anything someone needs to say can be done on the field.
More than that — he couldn’t fight without risking expulsion. It would look horrible on his record and — he wouldn’t be able to go to Seido.
“Why?” you recovered quickly, not caring that you were being demanding now, probably too harsh if anything.
“We don’t know . . . We just heard it from some other kids.”
“Where is Miyuki now?” He probably wouldn’t answer your texts. If anything, it’d be exactly like him to hide this from you.
The girls shared glances again. “Um, I think he went to the boy's bathroom by 3-B.”
“Thanks,” you told them shortly, then turning on your heel and heading towards the hallway for third years. You made the decision to not retrieve your first aid kit. You’d lead him back to your house instead. He didn’t need to be around the school with visible injuries.
Once you were at the boy’s bathroom, you hesitated. What were you supposed to do? Could you go in there? Would he allow you to even see him? Maybe you could wait. He had to come out eventually.
You leaned against the lockers next to the wall, wondering what on earth happened. Even disregarding his dislike of violence and the huge risk that comes with fighting, like those girls had said, he wasn’t someone who got riled up easily. He was the one riling people up. But the fact that it’d been Tanaka made some sense; Ichiro Tanaka was the asshole in your class, always finding someone to pick on, always making unwanted advances on girls.
Miyuki may be an asshole in the sense that he could pick you apart and annoy you to death, but he had honor. (Plus, he’d never shown any interest in any girls or boys in your class ever.)
You rubbed your forehead tiredly, pulling out your phone to text your mother that you might be home earlier than usual. Just as you’d sent off the text, the door to the boy’s bathroom opened and Miyuki stepped out, his backpack slung over his shoulder, still not noticing your presence until you’d reached out to tap his shoulder.
You could see him tense, muscles stiffening. He was hesitant to turn around and you were about to call him out on it, but he turned before you could say. Your eyes widened as you took stock of his injuries.
“Are you okay?” you gasped, any thought of scolding him thrown out the window at seeing the busted lip, the cut on his temple, and the blossoming bruise on his cheek. A quick glance at his hands showed you the cuts on his knuckles, though they were only on his left hand. You knew he caught and threw with his right. At least he’d had that foresight. “What happened?”
He avoided your eyes. “I may have gotten into a fight with Tanaka.”
You huffed, glad to see he was acting normally. Well, as normal as Miyuki could ever be.
“No shit. I know that part already — though I don’t know why — but what did Tanaka do to you?” There was the underlying question in your words, one you wouldn’t outright say because it would probably appease him. Did you win?
Miyuki picked up on it anyway, smirking but then wincing at the pain he was probably feeling on his lip. “I won.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You — I can’t believe you. Come on, let’s do this at my house. We don’t need someone seeing you.” You two began walking towards the exit. You shot him a worried glance. You couldn’t imagine the potential repercussions this could entail. You didn’t want Miyuki to be stuck here. You wanted him to leave, to go to Seido and become the best damn catcher to play high school baseball.
As if sensing your thoughts, he spoke. “No one’s going to say anything. Tanaka’s looking for a volleyball scholarship at some school in Hokkaido and his lackeys have their own scholarships they need to worry about, too. It was an unspoken agreement.”
You sighed heavily. “I don’t want you to throw away your chances at a good baseball career, Miyuki. Especially not over a fight, which, speaking of, is very unlike you. So, regardless of that . . . what on earth happened?”
He stayed silent. You pursed your lips and led him to your house. It was easy to sneak past the bakery, where your parents and older sister would be preoccupied with the dinner time rush. The house would be empty, too, since your little brother was over at a friend’s house for a playdate.
You ushered him up to the bathroom on the second floor, dropping your bags off in your room beforehand. You shut the door behind you and locked it for good measure, then opened up the window to let some fresh air in. Miyuki was still silent, appearing introspective. For once, you were unable to find out what he was thinking.
You made him wash his face and hands first, taking his glasses and setting them on the counter behind you so they wouldn’t get wet. Once he was finished and resituated on the closed toilet seat, you began tending to his wounds, first going back downstairs to grab an icepack and wrapping it in a towel so it wouldn’t be too abrasive against his face. You worked on disinfecting the cuts on his knuckles, which weren’t too bad. You had one hand cupping his, the back of his hand facing up as your fingers pressed against his palm to spread out his hand.
He grimaced at the burn of the hydrogen peroxide but didn’t say anything. When you moved to wrap up his knuckles, you closed your hand around his fingers, trying not to focus on how the calluses rubbed against your skin. You moved on to the gash on his temple, murmuring a soft “sorry” when he winced from the burn. He had to keep his glasses off, but his eyes were on the floor.
You’d been applying an ointment to the cut when he spoke again. “Tanaka said something . . . Something I’m not repeating.” You paused, your eyes briefly flickering to his bandaged hand in his lap that clenched into a fist. “I couldn’t let it slide. I know . . . you know how I feel about fighting but . . . it was about you. And I’m not going to let him, of all people, talk about you like that.”
He sat up straighter, his eyes meeting yours. You froze, golden irises searing into you in a way that made your heart race. The lack of glasses made it all the more intense, your stomach doing flips in nervousness.
“Miyuki . . .” you muttered, feeling your face heat up. “I —”
“Don’t say you don’t want me fighting because of you. I did it because you’re my best friend and no one gets to speak about you that way. No one.”
Miyuki was passionate about baseball. About his cooking. About the SoftBank Hawks. But never about you. Yet, here he was, speaking so strongly that you felt a little weak at this display of anger and . . . touched.
You pursed your lips, breaking eye contact with him to turn to the sink and take out a bandaid to put over the cut. You carefully covered the wound then took out another disinfectant wipe to use for his lip. You actually hesitated before you started your work, but it had to be done.
You brushed his chin with the back of your hand, avoiding grabbing it. He turned his head up with no qualms, but his eyes stayed on your face. You attempted to disinfect the cut on his bottom lip, but it proved to be more difficult than you thought. It could also be because your heart was racing and your face was itchy with heat. You swore silently and grabbed his chin with your hand to better clean.
You hated this. Here you were, close to his face, staring at his lips as you cleaned them. At least you had an excuse to stare, though.
You caught your train of thought and almost swore out loud. Where was that even coming from? When had you begun thinking of him like that? Yeah, Miyuki was good-looking, almost unbelievably so, but it wasn’t anything new. So why now?
You realized far too late that you’d stopped moving the wipe on his lip, the white cloth blossoming red from the blood still leaking. He winced from your grip and you wrenched your hand back, uttering a soft “sorry” again. You turned back to the sink to grab the ointment, only squeezing out a small amount so that it wouldn’t be noticeable.
With shaking hands, you pressed your fingers to his jaw to angle his face once again, concentrating on anything but the feeling of his smooth skin underneath your fingers. You spread the ointment over the cut, trying your best to be gentle but also ensuring that it wasn’t showing.
In a desperate attempt to distract yourself and to break hold from the heavy atmosphere you’d found yourself in, you lifted your head to look at him again, but before you could even think to speak, the look in his eyes made you stop. Your brain short-circuited at the look he was giving you, whether it was on purpose or not, you didn’t know. You stood there frozen, still invading his personal space for the most part.
For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. His eyes looked warm underneath the light coming in from the window, casting shadows over the curve of his nose, making him look so much more older and — and handsome.
Then, like a warning siren, your sister’s voice echoed in your head.
“Don’t let feelings cloud your judgment.”
You sighed shortly, the loud noise shattering the moment. “Honestly, Miyuki.” You shook your head, turning around to toss the q-tip into the trash along with the other used supplies. You heard him make a surprised noise at your sudden movements.
You picked up his glasses off the counter and handed them back over then took a few steps back, leaning against the wall opposite to him, putting a respectable amount of distance between you two.
“I appreciate what you did,” you said, managing to keep the shakiness out of your voice. He’d put on his glasses again, his eyes now impossible to read. “But, god, I don’t want you to not be able to go to Seido . . . That is where you decided to go, right?”
He shrugged. “Probably. Don’t worry. I mean, I don’t regret what I did. Not at all. But I do understand what you’re saying and I’m not planning to make this a regular thing.”
You scowled, feeling the atmosphere around you lighten up. “I sure hope not. You don’t need to be batting with cut up knuckles like that, you dummy.”
“I know,” he said quietly, before trying for a smirk, though it came out more like a pained grimace. “Besides, you’re here to fix me up, aren’t you?”
You huffed, turning your nose up at him. “You’re so annoying, Miyuki.”
“Thanks.”
“Shut up.”
But even as he began talking about the studying he’d managed to accomplish before he’d left the library and ended up face to face with Tanaka, you thought about your plans for high school. These feelings . . . Whatever they were, they weren’t needed. Not right now. Not right before you two were picking out your high schools. You couldn’t allow them to cloud your judgment.
At the same time, though, going to Seido with him . . . That seemed amazing. Another three more years seeing him, going through all the high school experiences, cheering him on at baseball games, it was all too dangerous. Far too dangerous.
It was dangerous because here you were, at risk of feeling something more than platonic feelings for a boy you’d known since you were eight, where you already know your feelings will never be returned.
First semester of your third year wrapped up quickly after that. With the start of your second semester, you received many offers from different schools all over the country. Your parents and sister were proud.
“That’s our girl,” your father had grinned, reaching out to ruffle your hair, much to your displeasure.
“Hey, make sure you choose a good school,” your sister said, giving you a severe look. You fixed your hair, not meeting her eyes.
“Wherever you want to go, honey, we’ll support you.” There was a heaviness in your mother’s tone, as though she didn’t want you to go far. You’d gotten an offer from the high school in this area, but you weren’t satisfied with the curriculum. Staying here would mean ending up like your sister (no offense to her, of course, since she was happy). You wanted out of Old Town Tokyo.
Miyuki had gotten a lot of offers, too. Schools everywhere wanted him as their catcher. The powerhouse schools, like Inashiro, Teito, Seido (of course), even several schools from Hokkaido. It wouldn’t be hard for him to make it as a pro. You were proud.
But he was set on Seido, and he was pressing you for your own decision, too.
“I have to start planning. It’s going to be busy when we start up,” he’d told you, trying to convince you to spill which schools had sent you offers.
“I’m still thinking,” you’d lied. “But if you really want to know, I’ve gotten one from Sakurazawa High.”
“Oh, I know them. They’ve lost in the first round of the West tournament for like, twenty consecutive years.”
You shot him a glare. “Is that all that matters?”
He chuckled, holding up his hands in a sign of surrender. “They have great academics, don’t they? But, you know . . . I’m fairly sure that Seido is equal in terms of national academic ranking . . .”
That was another thing. You knew Miyuki wouldn’t ever hold you back, just like you wouldn’t hold him back. It felt like some sort of crime to ever try and stop him from pursuing his interest in baseball and vice versa for him and your desire to be a doctor. But you knew, just like he did, that Seido was a powerhouse school in both academics and athletics. Going there wouldn’t hinder your performance nor his. Not to mention, you two would be together, right?
Except, it sounded horrible. The past few months had been stressful, because not only did you have to deal with the looks your mother was giving you about choosing a school way outside of Old Town Tokyo, but you also had to stave off the counselors who wanted your decision, along with Miyuki. Then there were your feelings for him. You weren’t sure what they were, but you knew they weren’t good. They were the type of feelings to inhibit you.
You couldn’t be a good friend to Miyuki if all you were thinking about is how much you wanted to hold his hand and have him tuck you under his arm like so many other couples did. If all you thought about was how happy he looked whenever he was talking about baseball or talking about Seido and competing for starting catcher. If all you thought about was how pretty his eyes were and how handsome he looked whenever he genuinely smiled.
You weren’t being a good friend. And you needed to fix that.
That night, you mailed the application to Mimayama. Two days later, you received your acceptance letter.
“Mimayama? That’s so cool!”
“Wow! You’re serious about being a doctor, aren’t you?”
It had meant to be a secret. You’d only wanted your family to know and no one else. You’d tell Miyuki when you had to. Preferably right before he left to Seido, or maybe when he was there already. Clearly, that had been too tall of an order.
You’d notified your counselors of your acceptance and subsequent admittance into Mimayama, much to their happiness. Apparently, no such thing as student-to-administrator confidentiality existed because your homeroom teacher found out immediately and after publicly congratulating you, a group of girls had approached you, gushing over your acceptance.
Luckily, not many people had been there yet, though a few of your other classmates had eyed you curiously. Miyuki was running late, something or another about sleeping in. You didn’t know — didn’t care, since that meant you had time to do damage control.
“Listen,” you began, trying to look as serious as possible. The girls leaned in eagerly. “Keep it to yourselves, alright? Don’t tell Miyuki or anyone else. I don’t want to start unnecessary rumors. It’d be horrible if people thought I was boasting about it.”
They nodded, agreeing immediately. “Of course! But why not tell Miyuki?”
They were looking harder at you now, more analytical, more perceptive. It reminded you too much of your mother and sister. You came up with a quick lie.
“It’s a surprise for him. I’ll be telling him later on. We’re going to different schools —” those words left a bitter taste in your mouth and a numb ache in your heart “— so I’m trying to prepare, you know?”
They soaked it up. Of course they did. Miyuki was popular with girls and they’d always wondered about your friendship with him. Saying all this to them was probably enough gossip to last for the rest of the year.
“Totally! We’ll be quiet, promise!”
You smiled at them, glancing over at the door just as Miyuki stepped into the room, looking like a total mess. The girls turned back around and began whispering to each other, sending occasional glances towards him then to you.
You ignored them in favor of watching him shuffle over to the desk in front of yours. He collapsed dramatically into his seat, laying on top of your desk instead of his own. You raised an eyebrow.
“Are you done?”
“I’m tired,” he muttered. “Exhausted.”
Now a little concerned because a tired Miyuki wasn’t a good thing (though he was absolutely adorable), you leaned forward. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”
He lifted his head and you clicked your tongue at the circles underneath his eyes. His hair was messier than usual, leaving you to contemplate whether or not he’d actually brushed it. “I was finishing the application to Seido. Mailed it off this morning.”
“When was the deadline?”
“Tomorrow.”
You rubbed your forehead, exasperated. “Miyuki . . . You’re so lucky you don’t have baseball anymore.”
“Not until next year.” He yawned and you tried your best to not think that he looked so adorable all sleepy and tired. This was a bad thing. He needed his sleep. “It was worth it. Hey, Mei wants to talk to me today after school. D’you want to come along?”
You pursed your lips. Well, you still weren’t fond of Narumiya, even after he’d begrudgingly apologized to you. He was Miyuki’s friend — sort of — and you’d wanted to lead Miyuki straight to his house so he could take a nap after school. This would just have to be done before, then. “Sure, but after, we’re going back to your house and you’re taking a nap.”
He grinned lazily at you. “Thanks.”
You turned away, ignoring the burn in your cheeks. “Whatever. Try not to fall asleep in class.”
He did end up falling asleep. And of course, you covered for him despite your earlier words. You had to wonder. If these feelings weren’t there, would you have done it? You glanced at him from the corner of your eye as you two made your way to the park. (After school, you’d dropped off your bags at his house since his was closet and began towards the place that Narumiya wanted to meet up at.) He yawned again, something he’d been doing frequently today, and you decided yes, no matter your feelings, you would gladly take cover for him.
Maybe that was where the problem had started.
Miyuki had always been the best in baseball, striving to work hard and prove himself, calling for aggressive plays and focusing even if something hadn’t gone his way. Despite his tendency to laziness when it came to exams and such, he was a diligent student.
In some ways, you wanted to be like him. Charismatic and charming when it counted, quick-thinking in difficult situations. After all, that was how doctors needed to be, right? They needed to be decisive, no hesitancy in their movements. You had someone’s life laid willingly into your hands and you couldn’t disappoint.
Had this admiration planted the seeds for your feelings?
You didn’t know and you didn’t have time to think it over as you came to the park. You fell a little behind as you realized there were other boys present, all from different leagues, though you knew they were part of Narumiya’s friend group. If Miyuki noticed you partially hiding, he didn’t say anything about it.
“Well, well, what’s with the gathering of the all-stars?” he asked, announcing his presence to them, in that conniving way of his. The boys turned to him, a few curious eyes glancing over to you, but you resolutely stood silent with your arms crossed, not offering your name. Thankfully, Miyuki didn’t offer to introduce you either.
He began listing off their names and leagues (you wondered briefly how he knew that, but of course, if it was baseball, it was important). When he finished, hands still casually in his pockets, he turned to Narumiya. “Did you call them all here, Mei?”
Mei grinned. “Yeah. And you, Kazuya. If you come with me, I can form my ultimate team.”
You raised your eyebrows. Well, you were surprised at this turn of events, but it wasn’t exactly far from something Narumiya would do. Miyuki laughed, sounding surprised as well.
“I don’t really care if you’re not the catcher, but Narumiya wants you,” the one named Shirakawa said, probably trying to help Narumiya convince Miyuki but it just sounded like he was bored and would rather be somewhere else.
“Inashiro invited you, too. Right, Kazuya?”
It was strange. You’d never been the possessive or jealous type. Miyuki had his fangirls — of course — but he’d never paid attention to them. Hearing Narumiya call Miyuki by his first name made you tense. Miyuki, you could understand — he called everyone by their first name, whether it was welcomed or not and you’d been calling him by his last name for as long as you could remember, more by habit now rather than respect. He’d never asked you to call him by his first name, either, so that’s the way it’d always been.
But here was the ever-so-condescending Narumiya Mei, speaking so casually with your best friend. It made you uncomfortable, but you pushed that away. This wasn’t the time nor place.
“So, why don’t we make the ultimate team together? If we all get on the same team, we could take nationals.” That was what this was about then. Barring your brief discomfort at hearing Narumiya call Miyuki by his first name, you felt a little proud that even such a self-centered pitcher like Narumiya and the others knew how valuable of a catcher that Miyuki was.
“Inashiro’s coach has a lot of experience under his belt and they have the best equipment in Tokyo. It’s a great environment, too,” Kamiya added.
“Not to mention, you won’t have to play against Narumiya. You’re in, too. Right, Miyuki Kazuya?” Shirakawa, as much as you hated to admit it, had a point. You’d seen Narumiya pitch. He was head and shoulders above a lot of the pitchers in your year. That was probably why he was so arrogant. But the guys made it sound like Miyuki would actually be averse to going head-to-head with Narumiya, when in fact —
“I’m sorry, but I already got an invite from Seido a while ago. I can’t join you guys.” His hand came up to his neck, a sign that showed he was a little uncomfortable being cornered by so many.
“What? Are you being serious right now?”
Narumiya stood up from his crouch. “Seido, huh? They’ve only gone to nationals once since their old coach quit. Compared to what Coach Kunitomo has achieved, Coach Kataoka is just way too green.”
You shifted on your feet, turning your eyes back to Miyuki. He scratched his neck in a shifty movement. It was coming any moment now. “Well, it’s not really about that,” he began. “Inashiro’s a team with a bunch of all-stars like you guys, right? So . . . I want to face you as an opponent.”
Of course. While the others were visibly shocked, you bit back a small smile. You’d seen it coming from a mile away. Sure, Narumiya could probably prepare a team to take nationals on with Miyuki and his other friends, but Miyuki wasn’t like that. He didn’t want the easy out. He wanted to work for it. You recalled his words from first year, after his loss against that second year catcher, Chris.
“How else am I supposed to be the best?” How else, indeed. There would be no better way than to face Inashiro than on a different team, still at a powerhouse school with a competent team where Miyuki would fit right in.
“Are you stupid?”
“Oh, you’re too kind.”
“It’s not a compliment!”
“Kazuya.” Narumiya didn’t look too surprised. Well, you could give him props for trying. “I’m gonna ask you one last time —” and for being so annoyingly persistent as well.
“Sorry. No.” Miyuki didn’t sound too apologetic.
Narumiya looked a bit irritated and his eyes shifted to you. “You’ll regret it, Kazuya. Is it because of her?” He calls you out, by your first name. “Are you going to Seido as well?”
You glared at him. “I don’t remember giving you permission to call me by my first name, Narumiya. And let it go.”
Shirakawa and Kamiya snorted as an affronted look passed over Narumiya’s face. “Hey, you’re always so mean to me —”
You turned your nose up, ignoring him. He didn’t know when to quit.
Most likely in an attempt to defuse the situation, Miyuki took a step back and said his goodbyes, then turned around and guided you away from the park.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” he confessed when you two were a reasonable distance away from the park, well on your way back to your own neighborhood. “But it was a very Mei thing of him to try.”
“Exactly what I thought,” you agreed. “He is right, too, you know. You’d probably be able to take on nationals without any problems.” Miyuki opened his mouth to protest but you elbowed him in the ribs, continuing with a small smile. “But I know. Challenger. I get it. It’s a surprisingly level-headed decision coming from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” You coughed to hide your snickers at the look on his face.
His house was empty as usual, his father most likely next door in the factory working on whatever project that needed to meet its deadline soon. You’d never asked about Miyuki’s mother, but you never had to. You’d seen the picture frame of a handsome, younger Toku Miyuki and a beautiful women standing next to him, a small bundle in her arms, standing in front of the factory. It didn’t take a genius to know that his mother had probably passed when he was younger.
Upon the entrance to his room, you went to his drawer where some casual clothes of yours were kept — purely for practical reasons since he had his own clothes in your dresser, too, along with many sweaters you’d kept. When you came back from the bathroom, he was already sprawled out on his bed, changed into comfortable clothing.
You went to take a seat in his desk chair, but his tired voice stopped you. “Hey, what are you doing? Come here.”
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You two had slept in the same bed when you were kids every now and then, but it had stopped when you’d gotten older. Well, you had gotten more aware of it every time you had shared a bed — of him right next to you. Evidently, he’d never cared because he had no problem taking a nap whenever he crashed your room.
You climbed over him so you were next to the wall. His bed wasn’t big, only a full-size, so it was enough for you two but no more than that. He stretched, yawning quietly. You hesitantly laid down next to him, facing him with a reasonable amount of space between you two. He turned to face you, blinking sleepily as his face was pressed into the pillow, probably putting the edges of his glasses into his face uncomfortably.
“You’re gonna break your glasses,” you muttered disapprovingly, reaching out to pluck them off his face. He squinted, readjusting to the absence of his glasses as you leaned over him to place them on the nightstand. You made sure that you didn’t touch his body as you did so.
He hummed quietly, drawing up the blanket to his waist. You abstained from it. He radiated enough body heat on his own, plus your internal temperatures were always high when you were in close proximity with him.
“You never said.”
His sleepy voice brought you out of your thoughts. Miyuki was clearly having a hard time staying awake, so you indulged him. “Said what?”
“Where you’re going. When we saw Mei. You didn’t deny it, but you’re not going there, are you?” His eyelids fluttered and you found yourself enraptured with the way his eyelashes just barely ghosted his cheeks. “I’m not going to be mad if you don’t, if that’s what you think.”
You tensed. He scooted closer to you. “I . . . Well, Seido’s a great school, Miyuki.”
His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes finally shutting, but he didn’t drift off. “You’re confusing.”
“What . . .?”
“I don’t want to hold you back from a good school. That’s what you deserve, especially for putting up with me this long —” your heart broke just a little at that admission. Did he think he was a burden to you? “— so I won’t be mad. Just tell me where you’re going.”
“I . . .” I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you why. I’m leaving, not because it’s a good school, but because I need to leave you. I can’t be around you. If I tell you now, I just might back out and go somewhere near you. “I’m still weighing my options, to be truthful.”
He hummed again, a sign he was still listening, so you pushed on. “I got an invitation from Oya, too, in East Tokyo. They’re a public school and they have a good academic program. If I remember correctly, they went to Nationals five years ago.”
“Not bad,” he mumbled. “Make a decision soon, though. I take it that means you’re not going to Seido, then?”
You were surprised that he was still managing to make logical conclusions despite being on the verge of unconsciousness. “Yeah, probably not. It would’ve been great to be with you, though,” you lied. It wouldn’t have been great. You would’ve suffered from your unrequited feelings, having to see him make it big in high school baseball, watching the entire nation fall in love with him.
He nodded, eyes still shut. “That’s okay. Just tell me where you’re going soon, okay.”
“I will.” Another lie. You were on a roll today, weren’t you?
He drifted off after that. You knew when he’d fallen asleep because you could feel the bed dip as he became dead weight, utterly relaxed, his breathing deep and steady. Your eyes roamed his face as you become more relaxed, finding comfort in being so close to him.
That fight had left an unnoticeable scar on his temple, usually hidden by his glasses, then the cut on his lip had healed up finely so there was no trace of it — at that point, your eyes lingered too long on his lips — and the cuts on his knuckles weren’t that noticeable either, probably something he could blame on his gloves.
Your heart stuttered in your chest as he shifted even closer to you. You had nowhere to go, your back pressed against his wall. You sighed quietly, shutting your own eyes to take a nap of your own. Whatever. These last few months were ones you had to treasure because the likelihood that you’d see him during high school was little to none. Really, the chances of him wanting to see you would probably make it even lower.
You fell asleep, weighed down by your decisions and restless for what the future might hold for your friendship with Miyuki.
(Those thoughts really didn’t bother you when you woke up lying on his chest and he had his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You were mortified, though.)
Graduation from your junior high had come and gone with no problems. You were in the top ten, sitting comfortably as number two while Miyuki sat as number ten; you weren’t surprised by his rank, by any means.
You’d avoided packing your own things, too. You would need to be in Kyoto by April 10th. They started the school year much later, for whatever reason, but it just meant that you’d be seeing Miyuki go off on March 28th, three days before the first day of school. And you’d managed to avoid telling him your final decision.
It all seemed to be catching up because the walk to the station was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Miyuki had said his goodbyes to his father and your family, your little brother strangely sad at the disappearance of his “Miyu.” (A nickname that had you rolling in laughter when he’d come up with it and always managed to make Miyuki’s face turn red.)
His train would be leaving in ten minutes. You both sat down on the bench at his platform.
“So,” Miyuki prompted. “Which is it?”
When you looked at him, his eyes were hard. He was irritated. Rightly so. You’d been dancing around your own leave for several months now and here he was, about to leave to Seido and he still didn’t know. You’d briefly contemplated allowing him to stay mad at you. Let him blow up. Perhaps it would give you the shock you needed. But he didn’t deserve that.
You sighed softly, guilt eating away at your insides. “Mimayama.”
You felt him tense up beside you as he made a strangled noise. “In Kyoto?”
You nodded, turning your eyes to the ground. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you clenched your hands into fists, ducking your head lower.
“That’s a good school.” His voice was leveled, cool and indifferent. Somehow, it hurt more than having to hear anger. “They’d be stupid not to accept you.”
You hummed softly.
He sighed shortly. “I don’t — what the hell? Why did you . . . What did you even gain from that?”
There it was. You turned back to look at him, then balked at the hurt on his face. “I . . . didn’t want to worry you.”
“You worried me more by not telling me,” he replied shortly. “That’s so far away.” Are you going to be okay?
That was more than you deserved. You’d been such a shitty friend for the past two years. Here he was, still trying to be a good friend.
You tried for a smile. “It’s not Hokkaido or anything, Miyuki. I’ll be fine. And I’m sorry . . . I just — I didn’t know. I don’t know.”
He stared at you. You met his eyes head on. You had to show him that you’d be fine. This was what you needed. You had the reckless urge to transfer back to a school here in Tokyo, if only to be close to him, but it was muted. Doing this was for the best of your friendship.
“I’m still mad.” Understandable. “And I’m leaving now. Baseball starts up immediately so I won’t have time to talk to you, especially since you’ll probably be busy with school, too. Solving this won’t be as easy as it was when we still lived here, you know.”
Would it even be solved?
“We’ll figure out a way,” you said, despite yourself. Something had changed. Your distance in your friendship had been noticeable. A child could notice. Whether it had been conscious or unconscious was up to debate. Evidently, though, it had hurt Miyuki and that was the last thing you wanted.
. . . Right?
You were moving all the way to Kyoto for the sole purpose of burying those feelings for him. Focusing on school. Rebuilding . . . Rebuilding your friendship. Right, that’d been a priority, too. But could it be done? You’d messed up.
“Well, let’s not spend our last few minutes together arguing or mad at each other.” Miyuki’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. He stood up, holding out a hand for you. You accepted, trying to imprint the feeling of his calluses and the way his palm felt against yours into your mind.
He wouldn’t give up on your friendship, though, would he?
The train pulled in, the draft carrying stray pieces of your hair, hydraulics hissing loudly as it eased to a stop. You were stunned as Miyuki pulled you in for a hug. It was tight, almost painful, but he was so warm and that sweet and spicy scent was overwhelming you in the best possible way that you couldn’t help but hug him back just as tightly.
“Don’t forget about me over there,” he murmured into your ear, warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. You suppressed a shiver.
“I-I won’t.”
He stepped away, sighing softly as the doors unlocked and popped open for the cabin in front of you. He picked up his bag. “I’ll see you later. We’ll talk.”
You nodded. He hesitated to leave, a strange look passing over his face as he fought with himself over something, but then it was gone just as quickly as it had come. He turned away and there was something foreboding about seeing him walk away from you. A cold feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach.
This wouldn’t be the last of him. You’d go to school in Kyoto, get over your feelings and rekindle your friendship with him. Things would get better. They would.
They had to.
Interlude: start
Miyuki wasn’t sure what was going on.
You’d been distant for the last few months, clearly having something on your mind and he’d waited patiently for you to come to him. But you never did.
Instead you sent him off, finally telling him where you were going. To the Kyoto Prefecture, of all places. Was he mad? Yes, and he sort of had a right to be.
He had to wonder. Had all those times he’d pestered you for your answer, had you lied to him? Applying to Mimayama and getting accepted wasn’t a last minute choice. Prestigious schools like that always had application deadlines earlier than other private and public high schools.
So, why hadn’t you told him?
It was something that plagued him for the entire train ride to Kokubunji, even when he made it to Seido High and received his dorm number.
Had you . . . figured it out?
He’d tried his best to hide his feelings and he felt that he’d been largely successful. You’d acted normally as you would and this felt like too much of a secret for you to hide if you knew. You weren’t one to hide what you were thinking, especially when it came to him. But falling in love with your best friend wasn’t normal, was it?
He couldn’t help himself. He’d never say it, but you’d stood beside him for the past six years, you were always so supportive, so patient even when he didn’t deserve it. So how could you even possibly begin to feel the same way? He wouldn’t openly admit this either, but he had more flaws than he had strengths.
Sure, he was . . . conventionally attractive and he was great at catching, but what else was there? It wasn’t like he’d be the type of guy to shower you with gifts or anything. Compared to so many other people, he wasn’t good enough.
He sighed heavily, continuing to unpack his things. His roommates were two third years but they were out, probably practicing. For once in Miyuki’s entire life, he didn’t feel the urge to practice.
Despite himself, despite wanting to give you the benefit of doubt, he wondered, had you attended Mimayama in an attempt to run away? From him?
Immediately, he felt guilty for thinking that way. Mimayama was an excellent school within itself, one you’d thrive in. He couldn’t be so selfish to assume that you’d gone there just to avoid him. You were trying to get a good curriculum. He was trying to get better in baseball. You both had your own agendas.
It wouldn’t be like you to allow your feelings to influence your decisions. Especially when it came to such an important decision.
His previous question came up again. Why wouldn’t you tell him? Were you scared he’d be mad? Or were you trying to protect yourself from something else? Did you think he’d try to convince you to stay?
His frown deepened. Well, that was a good question. Kyoto was so far away . . . If you’d stayed in Tokyo, it would’ve been easier to see you but now that you’d be all the way in Kyoto, the chances of seeing you were slim to none. You’d probably only see each other during winter break.
Regardless of that, though, he was sure he wouldn’t have tried to stop you.
Did a small (or very large if he was truthful) part of him want you to go to Seido with him? Yeah, but things don’t always work out. Friends don’t always get to stay together. Apparently, you had realized that sooner than he did and taken advantage of it.
But your reluctance to tell him was what had gotten on his nerves. He deserved an answer from you. (Right?) One that hadn’t been last minute, one where you two could discuss it. One where he could begin to make plans to see you, arrange methods to talk during the school year. But here he was, sitting on the barren side of the dorm with no real plans to see you again until December, irritated at you.
Until he had a proper answer from you on why you’d done it (because he deserved that too), he’d give you the space you needed to sort out your thoughts.
Besides, come April 10th, there would be three hundred miles between you two. Space would come easily.
Interlude: end
Things seemed to be fine for the first few months. You and Miyuki kept up moderate contact, calling and texting when you were able. There would be odd bouts of absence on his part, something he’d blamed on baseball practice and you could understand. As far as you knew, Miyuki had been able to secure the position as starting catcher with little to no problems. The way he felt about it was a different story.
“Chris . . . He injured his shoulder. He was removed from first string. I took his place.”
You pursed your lips. “That stinks. I’m sorry, Miyuki.”
Going to Seido to get that spot as starting catcher had been Miyuki’s main goal. And he’d already achieved it within three months of being there.
You knew he’d wanted to go toe-to-toe with Chris to properly fight over the spot. It probably didn’t feel too good to have it conceded to you.
“Starting catcher is starting catcher, I guess. There’s nothing I can do about it. Just have to get to Nationals and win.”
“You can do it,” you said, putting as much encouragement into your words as possible. You absently read over your textbook, waiting for his reply.
“So . . . You must have come up with a good reason for not telling me about going to Mimayama, right?”
Surprised, you dropped your pencil, his words catching you off guard. You hadn’t necessarily forgotten about his promise to figure things out between you and you were fully prepared to apologize, but explaining why was an entirely different ordeal.
You had been silent for too long, because he sighed shortly on the other line. “Come on. Did you think I’d be mad? That I’d try to stop you?”
You tried to think, tried to formulate an adequate answer. Would lying save you? Could you continue on in your friendship after lying to him about it?
“I just . . .” You were at a loss for words. You hadn’t expected him to bring this up. But of course, in classic Miyuki fashion, he would want to catch you off guard. Make sure that you wouldn’t be able to lie. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” he scoffed. “It’s not that hard.”
You bristled. “Well, damn Miyuki, you said you wouldn’t have gotten mad and maybe you wouldn’t, but look at you now.”
“I have a right to be mad now,” he replied waspishly. “You lied about it for how long? How many times had I asked you? I know Mimayama has the earlier deadline for applications because it’s a private school. You made this decision and you didn’t tell me about it. I thought we told each other everything. I mean, that’s what best friends do, right?”
“Since when have you ever cared about how other friendships function? You’re only doing this because you’re mad. You’re not thinking straight.”
Miyuki laughed suddenly, in a callous manner he’d never used with you. “I’m not thinking straight? Well, we both know the answer to that,” he sneered. “Me and you are best friends just like anyone else, but now that I have a genuine problem with you lying, suddenly I’m the one who’s needlessly comparing ourselves to other people, right? I’m the wrong one here, yeah?”
“I didn’t say you were,” you disagreed. “It was just — I don’t know. I didn’t tell my family for a long time, too.”
“I get it. It’s a personal decision. But lying to me about it is where I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to!” you snapped, finding yourself fed up with his attitude. “It was . . . a personal decision, just like you said. I had to come to terms with it myself, too, you know.”
It wasn’t a lie, by any means. The day after his fight and after you’d filled out the application, you had stood by the mailbox so long, envelope in hand, the next door neighbor had come out to ask if you were okay.
“You could’ve told me that you’d made a decision. I was worried you’d end up stuck there with how much you were pushing it away. I would’ve respected your boundaries, you know.”
His voice had quieted considerably and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. Did it mean he was calm now? Understanding? Or was his anger and hurt phasing him so much he couldn’t muster the energy to be loud? You hated this. You hated not being able to see his face, being able to gauge what he was feeling. Relying on his tone was getting you nowhere.
“I . . . know.” Maybe it’d been irrational, but your decision had been the one thing he hadn’t known about. You could be so weak when it came to him. If he even knew that you had made a decision, it felt like he already knew where you were going, as though he could see right through you.
You and Miyuki could read each other like the back of your hands, unwillingly or willing. You knew his ticks, his dislikes, his fears, and vice versa. Alongside your feelings, the choice to attend Mimayama had been one of the few things you’d ever kept from him.
“Then why do it? That’s all I’m asking for. That’s it. Just an explanation and we can be done here.” He sounded almost desperate. It was disconcerting. Miyuki Kazuya wasn’t desperate; he didn’t beg. He was above that. But his voice —
You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling shakily. This was too much, it was all too much. You’d regret it later on, maybe, when you finally got your head back on but you couldn’t stand it right now. He couldn’t know.
Under no circumstances could he know that you were in love with him.
“I can’t do it.”
Miyuki was silent, for one, two, three seconds, then —
“I guess we’re done here.”
You tried again. “Miyuki, I — ”
The call ended abruptly as he hung up first, not even sparing you a chance to talk. You stared at your phone. Maybe that was what you deserved, though. You weren’t being the greatest of friends, but you just wished he would let it go. Why was it so important? Did it truly both him that much? Regardless of whatever it was, he wasn’t going to be letting it go anytime soon — that much was apparent.
The abrupt hang-up had hurt a lot more than you thought it would. (You certainly wouldn’t admit it out loud, though.) Miyuki wasn’t exactly the gentlest person and he could be mean, but he’d never been that way with you.
Something told you that this was only a small dose of what he could do, that he wasn’t completely shutting you out. Not yet.
You tossed your phone behind you, not minding the rough thump that came after. You dropped your head onto your textbook, sighing heavily. There was the slightest of stinging behind your eyes, but you shook it off, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. It wouldn’t do well to be crying. Dinner would only be in thirty minutes and you didn’t want to explain to your classmates why it looked like you’d been crying.
You dug into your nails into your palm, the pain relieved you from the burn in your eyes. The urge mercifully passed.
You sat back up, taking a deep breath. This would have to be dealt with later, you promised yourself, turning your eyes back to your textbook in a vain attempt to start your assignment again. All you two needed was space, some time to cool off and regain your bearings. Then, you’d solve this.
You didn’t solve it.
Baseball took up a handful of his time, so when you sent a wary text to him three weeks after your phone call, you didn’t receive a reply back. You then found out that that exact day, Seido had been at a game and had won, qualifying them for quarterfinals. Of course he wasn’t going to reply. He was probably busy basking in that afterglow of victory.
So you let it go.
But then, Seido was eliminated. You got that news from your classmates, a girl who apparently had a cousin attending the opposing school. When you’d asked, she had said proudly, “Inashiro.”
It felt like too much a cruel joke. But when you returned to your dorm and looked up the game, sure enough, Inashiro had won. The game had been four to three. Narumiya was their star — their ace. If you hadn’t had any real reason to dislike him before, you certainly had one now. You sent an apology to Miyuki, trying your best to be comforting.
His reply — albeit cold — had been relieving. Things weren’t as bad as you’d thought they were.
But then he didn’t contact you for the rest of the summer. And that was where the space between you two grew. It wasn’t only physical anymore — he’d stopped contact with you completely.
Summer passed and you descended into autumn, where temperatures dipped and the trees began to lose their leaves.
There was still no contact between you two.
You sent him the occasional message, just a random update about this or that, fooling yourself into thinking that he was just busy. The fall tournament was coming up and if they made it, they’d have a spot at the Spring Invitational. It was another chance for Nationals. But your messages stayed silent, save for the messages coming from your family.
Seido lost during the semifinals at the fall tournament; you sent him a text.
i’m sorry about the fall tournament… you guys played a really good game. text me back when you can.
Maybe he felt your desperation, somehow, through the screen and even though hundreds of miles separating you two.
You sat up abruptly as the little words underneath your message changed from Delivered to Read. You waited, your heart racing in your chest. But no message came.
You tried to rationalize. He’d just lost. Their ticket to Nationals was a pipe dream once again. He wouldn’t be up to talk immediately after, right?
It sounded foolish, even to yourself.
As though your problems with Miyuki weren’t enough, you got into an argument with your mother.
She had apparently believed that once you graduated high school, you’d come back home to work in the family bakery. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
Summer break had been an awkward affair because of it. You had envisioned summer break as time away from working and from the stress of high school, but your mother had other plans.
You were forced to be the cashier, much to your displeasure. Your father had patted your shoulder consolingly, while your older sister told you to stop complaining so much. Your younger brother — already seven-years-old — could only giggle at your predicament while he went to his friend’s house to spend the night. You were almost envious at his freedom.
You had no idea if Miyuki was back in the neighborhood since he wasn’t taking the time to answer your texts. You knew that if he had come back, he had no business to be outside of his house, either, so you decided that you would probably never know.
The fifth day of summer break started bright and early with you on the cash register. It had been slow, though, the heat of the sun discouraging people from walking out and about. The wall-length windows of the bakery did nothing to hide the sun, either, and the air conditioner was mostly focused on the table area rather than behind the counter.
The heat had started to make you sleepy but before you could actually doze off on the job and piss off your mother, the bell above the door rang, signaling a new customer. You straightened up, trying to blink the sleepiness away.
Thankfully, you didn’t have to try too hard, because the newest customer turned out to be Miyuki Toku.
“G-Good morning, sir. What can I get for you today?” Your voice was steady, thankfully.
He stared up at the menu, dark eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed behind his glasses. He was dressed in work clothing, grease staining various spots, a black baseball cap tucked over his hair. It was no wonder Miyuki himself was so handsome. His father was a handsome man for his age, the only sign of his age being the lines around his mouth and forehead, and the slightest hint of grey in dark brown hair and in his stubble.
“Two coffees and three sweet rolls,” he finally said, his eyes flickering to you.
You dropped your eyes, hurriedly ringing up his total and scribbling down the drink order to hang up for your sister to do. His eyes were the exact same shade as Miyuki’s. Of course they were, they were father and son, but it . . . made you miss Miyuki even more.
You handed back the money and grabbed some wax paper to pull out the sweet rolls from the display case of pastries. As you put them into a paper bag and folded it up neatly, he lingered near the pick-up counter. You wanted to ask him if Miyuki was back, but would that give you away? Maybe he already knew of the fight, if Miyuki had told him, but that sounded far-fetched. Miyuki wasn’t that open with his father.
You glanced around the bakery; all the customers were satisfied at the moment and nobody was waiting in line. You glanced back at Miyuki's father. He was looking over the display case with uninterested eyes. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.
“I-Is Miyuki back in the neighborhood?” you asked before you could lose your nerve, handing the paper bag over to him then stepping back behind the cash register, as though it could protect you from any unwanted questions.
He seemed surprised that you were speaking at him, brown eyes widening briefly before he cleared his throat. “No. He’s still at Seido. The coach keeps them for summer break.”
“Oh.”
That sucked, but knowing Miyuki, he was probably using that off-season time to get better.
“Have you been speaking to him?”
Now, you were the one surprised. When you looked back up, he was watching you with scrutinizing eyes. It reminded you so much of Miyuki that you had to avert your eyes. “Not really, sir. We’ve just,” you cleared your throat, “he’s busy. I’m busy. Our schedules don’t line up very well.”
“Mimayama, right?”
You looked back at him, furrowing your eyebrows. How did he know?
“Kazuya told me. That’s a good school,” he paused awkwardly, but before he could continue, your sister called out his order.
He picked it up and lingered in front the counter, shifting awkwardly before finally saying, “Well . . . keep in touch with him.”
You barely had time to get out a ‘have a good day.’ Did he know of your fight? There was no way that Miyuki could’ve told him, right? And if he did, then why was his father so nice? You knew Miyuki wouldn’t mince words and he probably wouldn’t hold back if he was talking about your argument.
“Hey.” You jumped as a wet towel smacked your back. “Stop looking so sad. It turns people off.”
You scowled, turning around to face your older sister with an insult on the tip of your tongue, but it died quickly at the semi-serious expression on her face. You both stared at each other for a few seconds before she slapped the wet towel onto your shoulder again.
“Loser.”
“Shut up!”
It was his birthday. He was officially sixteen-years-old.
You typed out a quick message. Maybe your conversations were beginning to be made up of your outgoing texts and nothing else from him, but you weren’t going to abandon him on his birthday. (Though, a small mocking voice in your head told you he had an entire team to spend his birthday with.)
You’d sent the text and went to put down your phone on your desk, but to your pleasant surprise, it buzzed a few seconds after, signaling a text.
It felt almost too true to be good. You unlocked your phone quickly, fumbling for the messages app. But when you clicked on his name, the message waiting for you wasn’t what you’d expected.
Error 1404. The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. For further inquiries, please contact —
Had he blocked you?
You tried again, but the message continued to pop up in reply to every text you sent.
You stopped trying, the words of the text seeming cold and callous, almost taunting.
Was he this petty? You had never believed him to be petty. Cruel, sometimes, sure, but never petty.
You tried calling. It rang two times before an automated message picked up.
“We’re sorry, but the person you are trying to reach is — ”
You hung up. This couldn’t be a coincidence. But why . . .?
You scrubbed your hands over your face roughly, feeling the familiar burn behind your eyes. Nothing was seeming to go right for you. Sure, you were at a school where you were put to work, but you were fighting with the only friend you had, with your mother about your choices for the future, with yourself over some stupid feelings.
Had it bothered him that much? Was this something to end your friendship over?
Evidently, to Miyuki, it had been.
December and January marked record-breaking lows with surprisingly heavy snowfall. You stayed on campus, burrowing in your room through the beginning of December to study hard for exams. Winter break brought you back home, where your sister had staged an intervention, surprisingly enough.
“What’s the deal with you and Miyuki?” she asked suddenly one day, when you two were in the kitchen at your home, making dinner for that night.
You continued your work, undeterred and unaffected. “What do you mean?” you asked tiredly.
She reached over to swat the back of your head, gaining a glare from you.
“Don’t glare at me, brat. You’ve been all mopey since the summer. I know something is going on,” she huffed, giving you a glare of her own.
You were prepared to shrug her off, turning to her to tell her off, but she was wearing that expression again. The one you’d seen during summer break after your run-in with Miyuki’s father. She looked serious. You hesitated.
You’d been dealing with this all on your own, with no one else to talk to. You definitely didn’t have Miyuki — not that you’d tell him about it, anyway — and certainly not your parents. Your mother would probably disapprove of your feelings since Miyuki wasn’t the type of guy to settle back down in his hometown and your father would disapprove because this was someone after your own heart.
Your sister was the next best thing.
That was how you found yourself telling her about the argument, about his lack of communication, and because you couldn’t avoid it, about your feelings for him.
She remained silent while you spoke, a pensive look on her face. When you finished, you shifted nervously on your feet, glancing at her in the corner of your eye.
“This is because of me, isn’t it?”
You blinked. “What?”
She paused from cutting up a vegetable, laying the knife down on the cooking board and turning to look at you. “What I said to you when you were in junior high. About focusing on yourself and not letting others influence your decisions.”
“I guess . . .” you murmured, agreeing reluctantly because you didn’t want her to blame herself for it. Luckily, that wasn’t what happened.
“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, grabbing the dish towel and hitting your shoulder with it. She tossed it back onto the counter before turning to you. “An absolute idiot.”
“What the hell — ”
“You played yourself, kid! I get it. These feelings are scary and new but running to Kyoto is not the answer!” she hissed urgently, looking annoyed.
Your hackles were raised. “You literally said — ”
“I know what I said, you fool! You had good intentions, but look where that got you.”
You winced. That was fair.
She groaned loudly. “Did it ever occur to you that you were letting your feelings influence your decision when you decided to go to Mimayama?”
You stared at her, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“For as smart of a kid you are, you’re kinda dumb when it comes to feelings.”
You scowled at her. “Feelings are dumb! It’s easier to memorize algebra equations than it is to handle what I’m feeling!”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen to me. I understand that you thought putting distance between you two and lying to him about your choice would help, but you were blinded by your own feelings. In your desperation to forget, you made a rash decision. I know Mimayama is a good school and worrying about your education is worthwhile, but are you even happy there?”
You stilled. “Happy?”
“You’re hopeless!” she bemoaned.
“Hey, it was your advice! Don’t get mad at me,” you protested, unwilling to take all the blame for this.
She grimaced. “Fine. I’ll take half. But it’s redacted as soon as we fix this.”
You balked. “Fix this? No, there will be no fixing here. I’m going to suffer the consequences of my actions — and partially yours — for the rest of high school and that’s it.”
“You don’t even know if he feels the same,” she pointed out.
“He doesn’t,” you said firmly. “Why would he? After everything I’ve messed up on, I refuse to let him know. It’ll only make things worse.”
“It’s called taking a risk,” she muttered, finally turning back to finish chopping up the vegetables. “You won’t know if you don’t try.”
“We’re not even talking to each other anymore. I think,” you grimaced. “I think he blocked me.”
She paused mid-slice. “I’m going to murder that boy.”
“No, you will not!”
“This is better than homicide,” your sister muttered gleefully as you two watched your mother wrap up a plate of food. “So much better.”
Your mother faltered in her actions briefly, having heard your sister’s words, then resumed quickly. She was probably used to it.
Your little brother was waiting impatiently by the door, some action figure grasped in his tiny hands.
“One of you take that to the Miyuki’s. It’s a holiday gift. Dress appropriately!” With that, she left the house, your younger brother following after her, the door shutting firmly behind them.
“I’m not taking that,” you said immediately after. It’d been several days since you had told her about your problem and she hadn’t brought it up since. Maybe for good reason, too. You had time to think over what she said.
Her question about whether or not you were even happy at Mimayama was . . . conflicting, as much as you hated to admit it. What did it matter if you didn’t like it? It was a good school, one that would boost you ahead. It was giving you experience in the medical field, experience you couldn’t receive at a regular high school.
But at the same time, there were regular high school experiences that you were missing out on. Mimayama rarely had dances or anything of the sort, typically hosting an end-of-the-year banquet for the third years to congratulate them on their progress, but that was the extent of their dances. They had no sports programs, save for a volleyball team that was in sore need of motivated players and a better coach. All the students were always so competitive, constantly fighting for the top rank, making passive aggressive comments about grades. It was tiring.
It also made you think. Had Mimayama been the best choice?
“You don’t even know if he’s back,” she countered, drawing you out of your revere. “Pretty sure all the sports teams had one week less of winter break than regular students.”
“I don’t care. I’m not — ”
You stopped as you heard voices outside. It was your mother, very distantly. She was saying something, but the words were muffled by the door.
Your sister pushed you away to go towards the front window that overlooked the yard, peeking through the curtains. She gasped, making you take a wary step forward, but before you could ask her, she was turning around, grabbing your wrist and dragging you upstairs. You allowed her, figuring it was a lost cause to try and stop her.
“What’s going on?” you grumbled. She turned into your parents’ room, yanking you over to the window that overlooked the street.
You both kneeled on the ground under the window and she pointed up at it, grinning.
“He’s here,” she said in a sing-song voice that made you want to cover your ears.
You cautiously looked out the window, at first finding nothing to look at, but then your eyes latched onto the figure currently taking his bags out of a taxi’s trunk. Your heart kickstarted in your chest. Miyuki.
It was a bit far away, but you could recognize him anywhere. He looked taller, lean with muscles he didn’t have before. His skin looked tanner, too, no doubt from all the time he’d have spent in the sun. He was dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, looking far too good for someone who probably just threw that on without giving it any thought.
You dug your nails into the windowsill. A small, childish part of you wanted to run downstairs and out the door to tackle him into a hug. You were craving the feeling of his arms around you and feel his usual tight, almost vice-like, grip. You bit down on your lip.
“You look like a love-struck fool,” your sister whispered, sounding awed. You shoved her, making her wobble precariously from her crouch, then fall over, hitting the ground with a loud thump.
You continued to stare out the window, and you were grateful for your hyper-fixation on him, because you were able to catch the slight movement of him turning his head towards your house. You fell away from the window, the curtains fluttering back to their place.
“What?” your sister grumbled, rubbing her elbow. “That hurt, you know.”
“I don’t care,” you muttered. “He looked. If he saw me, I’m going to die.”
She scoffed. “Don’t be so dramatic.” She laid down on her side, propping up her cheek with her hand, shooting you a cheeky grin. “So? You wanna give them the food, now?”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? Why not?”
You shot her an irritated side glance. “Seeing him doesn’t make me want to ‘try things out,’ as you say. What part of ‘we’re not talking anymore’ do you not understand?”
She scowled. “So, you’re giving up?”
You looked away. “I guess so.”
It was silent for a few seconds before she huffed quietly. “Well, I’m not. Stay here. I’m gonna give them the food. When you hear the door close, look out the window, but stay hidden.”
You stared at her as she got to her feet and left the room. This . . . couldn’t be good.
Nonetheless, when you heard the door shut from downstairs, you peeked out the window again. You caught sight of her walking down the sidewalk, her jacket and beanie on to fight against the freezing cold, the dish cradled in her arms. At that point, the taxi was gone and you suspected Miyuki had retreated into the warmth of his home.
When she walked up to the house and rang the doorbell, she sent a furtive glance to you, making brief eye contact before turning back forward. The door opened and she looked surprised for a split-second before schooling her expression into one of ease. You squinted, trying to make out who she was talking to.
She took a half-step back and you finally saw that it was Miyuki who’d answered the door; he leaned out of the house, nodding and saying a few things before accepting the dish with a gracious bow. Your sister returned it and turned around, walking back towards the house.
You dropped away from the window, making sure to fix the curtains carefully this time, then dashed out of the room and down the stairs. You didn’t have to wait more than thirty seconds before she was entering the house again, letting in a burst of icy air. Once she had locked the door and began taking off her shoes, jacket and beanie, you cleared your throat.
“Well?”
She looked at you, grim, and you prepared yourself for bad news, but then she said, “He’s cuter than I remember him being.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear.”
She shrugged. “You two would be cute together. His looks cancel out any ugliness you have.”
“Again. That’s not what I wanted to hear.”
She sighed. “What do you want to hear, kid? I don’t know . . . He seems more mature now. Are you two really fighting about this as bad as you say?”
You glared at her, irritated that she was doubting your words just because he seemed ‘more mature.’ “I have no reason to lie. It’s not like you’ve ever liked him that much, anyway.”
“That’s true,” she murmured. “But he made you happy, so that was all that mattered to me. He’s not doing that for you anymore.”
You toed the edge of the carpet with your foot, avoiding her eyes.
“If you’re truly incessant on not making up with him, then find something that makes you happy,” she continued. When you glanced at her, she looked serious again. You decided you didn’t like that look on her face. She coughed.
“If not, I refuse to see your mopey face around here.”
“Comfort me or insult me! Pick one, dammit!”
As much as you hated to admit it, your sister had a point.
So when you returned to school, you tried to find something that made you happy. Either an end goal, or even another friend.
You found that continuously telling yourself to find something made things a little bit better. You didn’t think about the absence Miyuki had left you. You thought about ways to raise your grade or make the other kids mad about your success.
You even found a friend — a quiet girl in your class who was pretty low in the class rank named Arakawa Akemi. You didn’t care about the rank stuff too much. (Only when it could be used to make your snobby classmates angry.) If anything, had she been in a regular high school, she probably would’ve been top of the class.
So, your first year ended with a secure friendship and excellent grades. Your relationship with your mother had gotten better, mostly because of the shining commentary that all your teachers had about you and your behavior during the afterparty of the third years’ graduation ceremony, where students, families and parents mingled. Your sister was annoying as ever — though a bit proud — and your brother was merely happy about seeing you again.
You knew, when your second year started up in full force, that your friendship with Miyuki was gone at this point. He hadn’t seen you at all during winter break and didn’t make an attempt to contact you at all. You hardly ever saw his father, so you couldn’t ask him about it, either.
You were sad at this realization. Almost seven years of friendship flushed down the drain. And the worst part was that your feelings hadn’t even faded with that.
After the Spring Invitational, Miyuki had gotten . . . famous. He was known nationally, media calling him the ‘catcher of his generation.’ Known for his aggressive plays, people loved him. When you’d seen the magazine with an article about him in it, you were proud.
Despite his lack of communication, you were still proud that he was doing what he loved. And he was good at it. You could never be angry about him doing well in what he loved.
When you’d seen his picture in the magazine, your heart still beat like crazy and your stomach still did flips. You hated it.
Even without almost a year of no contact, you were still infatuated with him.
You found yourself busier than you’d anticipated when second year started up again. You were required to put in volunteer hours at a hospital, so you’d found yourself preoccupied not only with homework, but work from the hospital as well.
The busy schedule was good; it helped you keep your mind off things, especially when the Summer Tournament started up and Seido blazed through the first rounds, then qualified for the quarterfinals. They were constantly making news articles, something or another about their new first year pitchers that were blowing competition away; usually those articles had companion editorials about Miyuki and how quickly he was improving. You tended to stay away from those.
You felt guilty for avoiding the games as much as you did, but at that point, there was no real need for you to keep up. It wasn’t like Miyuki would be calling you afterward to ask for your opinion on it.
The way you saw it was that if there was no Miyuki, then there was no need for baseball, either.
Unfortunately for you, however, your classmates happened to be avid baseball fans, so when you came to class the Monday after the weekend of the finals, you weren’t surprised to hear them talking about it.
“ . . . what messed up their game.”
“Yeah, after that deadball, there was no way they were getting their momentum back.”
“It’s all that first year pitcher’s fault. Sawamura, right? If he hasn’t fallen apart, maybe they would’ve been able to continue.”
You listened curiously, only brought out by a nudge to the arm. Akemi was giving you serious side-eye. “You could look it up, you know, or even ask,” she murmured.
“Look what up?”
She elbowed you again.
You sighed, leaning forward to tap on the shoulder of your classmate sitting in front of you. He turned around, his eyes widening at seeing you interact with him.
You gave him a polite smile. “Are you guys talking about the finals of the summer tournament for West Tokyo?”
“Yeah. Between Seido and Inashiro.”
You sat up straighter. You hadn’t realized that it’d be between them, but of course, it made sense for them to be the finalists. Two of the three baseball powerhouses in West Tokyo.
A queasy feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach, but you pushed on.
“Who won?”
“Inashiro. Their ace, Narumiya Mei, was a complete monster but honestly that first year pitcher — Furuya, right? — was insane . . .”
You sat back, staring at the plastic of your table. Akemi hummed softly and leaned to show you her phone. It was an article, presumably on the game. You read the headline.
Seido loses to Inashiro by 4-5
The article was detailed, filled with baseball jargon that you didn’t bother trying to decipher. You latched onto a few pieces of important information; Seido batters unable to get a hit off Narumiya for the majority of the game, the deadball by that first year pitcher Sawamura Eijun in the bottom of the ninth inning and Seido’s ultimate loss. You sighed heavily.
“Great.”
Akemi shut off her phone, watching you carefully. “That’s it?” she asked quietly.
You’d told her about everything that had happened between you and Miyuki. Mostly as a precursory warning that apparently, you could be dumb when it came to your friendships; you’d try to be better with her, but fair warning and all that. Though, you had to give credit to yourself, since your errors were really because of your feelings and while Akemi was pretty and very kind to boot, Miyuki still held your heart.
But that was it.
You shrugged, pointedly looking away from her. “What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can talk to him anymore.”
Akemi said nothing else on the matter, looking forward when the teacher entered and started up class. And you didn’t bring it up again, either. But you still had to sit through the excited murmurs of your classmates, biting down the urge to defend Seido whenever someone would badmouth the team for whatever reason. (At that point, you were irritated with yourself. You didn’t even know anyone on the team except for Miyuki. Why should you feel the need to defend them?)
The majority of summer break — wherein you stayed at school for extra classes — was filled with talk of Nationals, mostly about Inashiro blowing through the rounds until the finals, where they ended up as runner-up. For the half of the last week of break, you headed back to Tokyo, where you visited your family and managed to avoid working in the bakery under the guise of needing to study (which you actually did need to do).
You knew Miyuki wouldn’t have been back, probably training with the rest of his teammates. When you passed his house on your way to another café to study at (since you’d probably be roped into doing some form of work if you went to your own), you pointedly avoided looking at his home and the factory.
It was time for you to move on.
Despite your best efforts to hide behind the menu, Narumiya’s face lit up upon recognizing you.
He grinned brightly; there was less baby fat on his face than you remember. He looked taller, too, adding to his maturity.
He calls you out — by your surname, thankfully. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle if he called you by your first name. You’d probably walk straight out of the café . . .
“It’s so good to see you! How are you?”
You sunk in your chair as other customers glanced at you, irritated. Narumiya was unbothered by their glares, taking a seat across from you even though you hadn’t invited him to do so. He was just as annoying now as he’d been two years ago.
“I didn’t say you could sit down,” you said, annoyed.
“We need to catch up!”
“We don’t.”
He grinned. “Have you gotten meaner over the last few years?”
Your grip tightened on the menu briefly, but you took a deep breath, turning your eyes back to its contents. You would ignore him for however long you needed. He would get the message sooner or later.
“Are you meeting Kazuya here? I’ll wait with you. Maybe he and I can catch up, too.”
“No,” you replied stiffly. “I’m here to study in some peace and quiet.”
You looked at Narumiya over the top of the menu, then glanced pointedly at your bag sitting in the third seat between you two. He followed your gaze and made a small noise of dissatisfaction.
“How boring. Do you keep up with him?”
You studiously ignored him, turning the page of the menu.
“Is that a no, then?”
You continued to ignore him.
He huffed petulantly. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re still mad about what I said? I was some annoying first year brat in junior high. I’ve changed.”
You looked over the menu again, eyebrow raised in doubt.
“I have!” he protested.
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Can you please leave now? I need to study.”
“Study for what?” he frowned, then. “What school do you go to? Shouldn’t you be on break?”
“You’re asking too many questions.”
“Then sate my curiosity and answer them!”
You huffed this time, finally surrendering to your fate. “Fine. I’m going to Mimayama right now and I took extra class over summer break. We always have homework.”
“Mimayama, huh?” Narumiya looked at you closely. “All the way in Kyoto?”
“Yes.” You turned back to the menu, but your head was beginning to ache from switching between squinting to read the small text and looking up to Narumiya. Or maybe that was just Narumiya . . .
“Is that why you and Kazuya haven’t been talking?”
“I didn’t say anything about that,” you said, feeling a frown form on your lips. “It’s none of your business, anyway.”
“Come on! When’s the next time we’re gonna see each other?”
“Never, hopefully.”
He pouted. “You don’t mean that. Come on! Tell me about it. Who would I even tell?”
“Your friends. Your sisters. Miyuki.”
Narumiya laughed, but it sounded forced. “As if I still talk to him too.”
You looked at him this time and he had a bitter smile on his lips. He suddenly looked tired — worn out. You couldn’t imagine from what, though.
His smile tightened. “You’re not the only one with problems.”
You pursed your lips. “Evidently. If you listen, I’ll listen too.”
He frowned, looking away, clearly not liking the prospect of airing out his vulnerabilities.
“It’s a fair exchange,” you added before he could refuse. “And I’m the last person to judge, if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t judge even you, Narumiya.”
He grumbled. “At least call me Mei.”
You did your best to offer advice but he waved you off.
“I’m doing it because it was fair and I needed to vent. Don’t worry about me. I’ll deal with it.”
You eyed him disbelievingly. “I have no problem helping you, either . . .”
Another lazy wave of the hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’m fine. Now, what’s the deal with you and Kazuya?”
Mei leaned forward, unabashedly stealing a fry from your plate. You two had ordered your meals before Mei dove into his problems concerning pitching, the team, and the first year catcher he had to deal with now.
You listened intently, finding yourself sympathizing with him, much to your own surprise. You knew, rationally, Mei had his own problems — of course, he was only human — but for him to be this open, you appreciated it. It made you feel at ease. Maybe Mei wasn’t as bad as you’d painted him to be.
You pushed your plate to him, appetite having disappeared, but he pushed it back toward you, pointing at the food with an intense expression on his face. “Eat.”
“I can’t talk and eat at the same time,” you pointed out.
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing you with narrowed eyes. “You can take breaks and eat.”
“Is the famous Narumiya Mei worried about me?”
“Never mind, you can starve!”
You smiled slightly and launched in your story, punctuated with breaks to eat or drink some water. Mei listened to all that you had to say, only interrupting to ask a question to prompt more details. He didn’t seem to judge, but you couldn’t tell for sure; his facial expression stayed composed throughout your talk.
When you finished, you found yourself suddenly conscious of his eyes on you. You squirmed a little in your seat, poking tentatively at the cold fries on your plate. You looked back up when he sighed, slouching in his seat.
“We both can’t catch a break, can we?”
You snorted. “No kidding.”
“If it makes you feel any better, if I was in your place, I might’ve done the same thing. I mean it’s not the right choice, but solidarity or whatever.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, evading your glare. “It’s fine. We can actually do something about your problem.”
“You know, we can also do something for you too — ”
He waved you off. “I’ll deal with it eventually. But you . . . We can do something here.”
You didn’t like the look on his face, the conspiratorial smile on his lips beginning to grow as you shook your head. “N-No, definitely not. Besides, why would you want to help me? I’ve been pretty mean to you these past years . . .”
Mei shrugged. “That’s how most of my friendships start.”
You sighed. “Regardless, I’m not — we’re not doing anything about it. I just told you to vent. We’re finished with that.”
“You’re giving up, then?” he asked, unintentionally echoing your sister’s question from last year.
“I . . .” You frowned. “If it’ll save me the heartbreak, then I guess so. He’s not even — not even talking to me, Mei. His message is loud and clear.”
“Well, he’s dumb. You and I both know that. Why should you listen to him? You have to try.”
“I can’t.”
“You don’t want to,” he corrected. “What do you have to lose? Your friendship is already in shambles, you’re going to school all the way in Kyoto so you won’t have to see him if it goes rotten and it’s not like you two live that close. Maybe telling him will fix things.”
“And what if it makes it worse?” you asked sharply. “I’d rather we leave it like this.”
“Assuming for one moment that he doesn’t feel the same — ”
“He doesn’t.”
Mei ignored you. “ — then telling him will yield the same ending to your friendship as it did before. Except now it’ll be official. It’s a better way to break things off, anyway.”
“I have no business to mess his life up like that,” you said stubbornly.
“You want to reconcile, don’t you?” He suddenly asked, scrutinizing you.
“What?”
“Reconcile with Kazuya. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But it’s not that easy. He’s going to want an explanation and he can be cruel. He’d probably make you choose between him and not explaining.”
You avoided Mei’s eyes. He was right. Miyuki wouldn’t accept you with open arms. He’d be affronted and demand an explanation. Rightfully so.
“So, what? I don’t tell him and we break things off or I do tell him and my feelings aren’t reciprocated so he breaks things off all the same to save us from the awkwardness?”
“Or you somehow manage to reconcile but still keep it to yourself. It’s unlikely, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if this bothered Miyuki. You’d probably do him a favor if you told him,” Mei finished, lacing his fingers together on the table.
“A favor,” you snorted disbelievingly.
“Now,” Mei continued, ignoring your tone, “let’s say he does have feelings for you. Which he does. Honestly, did you see the way he’d look at you when we were in junior high? It was gross.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mei rolled his eyes. “Because you’re just that unattractive or what?”
You shifted, uncomfortable. “I don’t deserve him.”
“Shut up.”
You blanched. “You — ”
“You and Kazuya are perfect for each other. That sounds like something he’d say about you, too. I’m not here to listen to you depreciate yourself. I’m here to help.”
You softened as he aimed a displeased frown at you. “Thanks, Mei,” you said, truly meaning it.
“You’re welcome. I’m great, aren’t I?” he preened, a happy grin replacing the frown. “Now, assuming he liked you — which he does — he’d want to know if you felt the same. So, telling him maximizes the possibility of reconciling your friendship. Plus, maybe you get a boyfriend out of it, too.”
“Boyfriend!”
“Obviously. That tends to be what happens when two people like each other.”
“Don’t get sarcastic with me, Narumiya Mei!”
Mei’s words left a significant mark on you.
You left the cafe thinking over the possibilities (sparing no thought to the homework that hadn’t been completed). But the thought of confessing seemed . . . strange. Could you be so forward to actually go after Miyuki and tell him? He’d probably avoid you as much as he could.
You weren’t looking to make a fool out of yourself, either, so you certainly didn’t want to try going to Seido. Going to his house and cornering him there seemed to be your best option, but the next break where he’d be home was Christmas and that was four months away. That was okay; there was plenty of time to work things out.
But it also gave you time to back out.
You chose not to discuss this with Akemi, knowing she’d encourage you to tell him as well. For now, you just wanted to make your own decision without outside influences (excluding Mei since you’d made the unfortunate decision of giving him your LINE account).
The rest of August was split between school, Akemi, Mei and your deliberations. Mei constantly kept you updated on the start of the fall tournament, finding every chance to talk about Miyuki — which led to Mei’s usual declaration of taking Nationals next summer. You continued to mull over the decision of telling Miyuki, always finding yourself becoming anxious at the notion of facing him again.
At the same time, you missed Miyuki. If things didn’t go well, at least you’d spoken to him one last time.
It was a decision that demanded great thought. No one was going to have a part in influencing your choice (not even Mei). You couldn’t half-ass it or do it on the fly. You needed to have some organization when it came to deciding.
The call was what threw your entire plan off its axis.
You’d been in the middle of composing a text to Mei, demanding to hang out since he’d seemingly dropped off the face of the earth following Inashiro’s loss to Ugumori. You knew it had to do with those problems he’d told you about in August and you weren’t going to let him deal with it alone.
It was almost funny how much your friendship with Mei had grown in such a short time. While he could be unruly, irritating and arrogant, he seemed to have a softer side when it came to you, toning down his need to get a rise out of someone. It reminded you of Miyuki, but you shelved that thought quickly. It was a comparison that had no reason to exist.
Dutifully ignoring the review for your English class on your desk, you’d been in the middle of typing out a word when your screen changed from the conversation between you and Mei to the call screen. You eyed the number warily. It was from Tokyo, but it wasn’t one you recognized. Your thumb hovered over the decline button but you huffed and answered it. If it was a telemarketer, you could nip them in the bud right now before they got the idea to call you back.
“Hello?”
“Er, is this — ?” The voice on the other line proceeded to give out your full name.
“Yes, this is. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”
“Uh . . .” Another person on the other end said something, but it was too quick for you to grab onto. “I know that, Zono! Shut up!”
Your frown deepened. “I’m . . . hanging up now.”
You went to pull away but the guy spoke again, hurriedly. “No, no, hold on! My name is Kuramochi Yoichi, I’m the shortstop for Seido’s baseball team.”
What the hell was a player from Seido doing you? You glanced at the calendar mounted in front of you, finding the words Seido vs. Yakushi final @ 1 marked down for today. So, the game must’ve been over then. Didn’t these boys have better things to be doing right now?
“How’d you get my number? And what’s the reason for calling me?” you asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. You were a bit irritated, though.
“You know Miyuki, right? Miyuki Kazuya?”
“Unfortunately.”
Kuramochi coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Right. Well, he sort of mentioned you today, before we went to the hospital, so I figured I should give you a call — ”
“Hospital?” you interrupted sharply. “Why are you going to a hospital? Did something happen? Was he injured?”
“Eh, he was but it’s not too serious. I think. So, yeah, he said to not call you otherwise you’d ‘kick his ass for getting hurt’ so I thought why not? Let him suffer a little bit for trying to hide his injury.” Kuramochi sounded nonchalant about the entire thing, so maybe it was okay, but you were still confused.
“Explain.”
“He was tackled at the plate by a pitcher from Seiko High in our semifinals and trust me, he wouldn’t have said anything unless someone else had noticed. I’m not sure if anyone else noticed, but if they did, they didn’t say anything. I told him . . . Well, I told him not to fall apart until after we’d won,” Kuramochi admitted sheepishly. You pursed your lips in disapproval.
“If he showed any sign of bringing the team down, I’d tell the coach but he didn’t for the most part. Unfortunately, another one our teammates noticed and brought everyone’s attention to it so the coach knew by the middle of the game.”
“Did he continue to play? Or was he benched?”
“No, he played the entire game. Miyuki’s our cleanup, too, so it wasn’t a bad move — ”
“Are you discounting the fact that he struck out a few times?” the other guy on the other end of the line asked.
“Shut it,” Kuramochi snapped. “It was better for our team morale, too. That bastard is aggressive. We might not have won if he’d been benched.” Then he coughed, seeming to suddenly realize that he’d called Miyuki a bastard with you listening. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you muttered tiredly, rubbing your temples to stave off the incoming headache. “So, what? He was taken to the hospital?”
“Yeah. We got here like fifteen minutes ago. He was . . . pretty out of it. Probably from the pain. We’re waiting for him right now. But, uh, I guess I called to see if you’d like to come and see him. Don’t worry about his father, I know someone else took care of that already.”
“Where are you guys?” you asked, more out of curiosity than anything.
“Tokyo General.”
“And how did you get my number again?”
“Miyuki’s phone.”
Kuramochi must’ve copied the number from Miyuki’s and into his own. You were surprised that Miyuki had even kept it. You sighed heavily, turning back to the conversation. “You do realize we don’t even talk anymore, right? Has he even told you about me?”
Kuramochi was silent for a few seconds. “Not really, but he’s always closed off. I did notice the lack of conversation for you on his messages, though. I don’t know, I just thought I’d tell you. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to see him, but as soon as we get his room number, I’ll text you from this number.”
“That sounds fine. Thanks, I guess.”
“No problem. Sorry for bothering you, though.” He hung up quickly before you could reply. You dropped your hand holding the phone into your lap, staring at the calendar. You had two finals this coming Monday and you needed to study. But was this your chance?
The way that Kuramochi has phrased it . . . It sounded like Miyuki was joking about it. In his pain-induced haze, had he forgotten about the ruins of your friendship and joked about you? Or was he conscious about what he’d been saying?
It was all so confusing.
You gritted your teeth at the oncoming headache and stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. You packed up your notebooks that you needed for studying, grabbing your wallet as well. A quick search told you that the next train to downtown Tokyo would leave in thirty minutes. You bought your ticket, sending a silent mental apology to your father who’d see the purchase and probably freak out.
The dormitory wasn’t too lively, meaning you could make your escape unnoticed. You notified the resident assistant of your leave — one of the teachers for your year — and she let you off without much problems, only stressing for you to be back before curfew tomorrow. After boarding the train with no problems and sending Akemi a message about your impromptu leave, you dove into your studies but found that you couldn’t concentrate. You had too many worries, too many thoughts.
This was going to go very well or very horribly.
After the three-hour train ride from Kyoto to Tokyo, you arrived at the hospital at six. You had met Kuramochi in the lobby of the hospital and he led you to the in-patient wing.
Kuramochi was an interesting individual. He was stiff, overly-polite in a way that said he was trying too hard. He probably felt uncomfortable actually seeing you in person.
“Does he have to stay overnight?” You asked, fingers tightening over the strap of your bag. When studying had escaped you, you obsessed over what sort of injury he could have. Was it sprained ribs? Had he torn a muscle? Or was this worse?
“Eh, only one night. He kicked up a fuss about it but we pointed out that he’d fainted from the pain. Better safe than sorry,” he explained as you two stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for the second floor.
You looked at him sharply. “He fainted?”
Kuramochi grimaced and nodded. “Like I said, he was pretty out of it. He’s fine now. Conscious and all that.”
“What about his father?”
Kuramochi reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Said he’d come tomorrow.”
You sighed softly. Yeah, that sounded like him.
There was a soft ding as the doors slid open, Kuramochi stepping out and briskly leading the way. His cleats were loud against the tiled floor, disturbing the quiet environment of the second floor. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.
You made it to a room but just as he’d lifted a hand to pull the door knob, you stopped him.
“Wait.”
He looked questioningly at you, his hand paused in the air. “What?”
“I don’t think this was a good idea . . .” You fidgeted with the strap of your bag, swallowing thickly. Your heart was beating like a drum in your chest and you had the ridiculous thought that everybody could hear how loudly it was beating.
Kuramochi scanned your face and he became serious, seeming to sense that you were genuinely doubting yourself.
“Whatever happened between you two,” he said, hushed. “It’s fine.”
“It was my fault,” you mumbled. “Why we stopped talking.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. But I don’t know your story. Listen,” you looked at him, finding him meet your eyes earnestly. “Now is the best time to fix it. Whether it goes well or not, I don’t know. But at least you tried, right?”
What do you have to lose?
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “You’re right.”
“You look like you’re about to throw up.”
“Thanks.”
Kuramochi stared at you, then nodded to himself, as though he’d just realized something. “It makes sense now,” he mumbled under his breath, making you frown.
“What — ”
He opened the door before you could ask what he’d meant and you instinctively jumped behind him as several voices floated out of the room.
“Ah, Kuramochi. Is everything okay?” a woman asked.
“Yeah. Just had to pick up one of Miyuki’s visitors,” he replied, staying in the doorway, probably sensing you hiding behind him.
“Is it — ?” another voice asked, sounding like the one you’d heard on the phone.
Kuramochi didn’t respond, simply stepping into the room, leaving you standing in the doorway for everyone to see.
There was only another guy your age in there and he looked utterly panicked at your presence. There was an intimidating man as well, dressed in the Seido baseball uniform — the coach presumably — and then a woman standing next to him, dressed in formal clothes. You turned your eyes to the hospital bed, but instead of meeting those familiar brown eyes, you were met with his bowed head, his eyes averted to his legs. You noticed his clenched fists on his lap and felt your heart drop to your stomach. He was angry.
You bit your lip then bowed to the two adults, introducing yourself, “I’m an . . . old friend.”
The two adults looked at Miyuki for confirmation. The air was uncomfortably tense. You saw him sigh minutely before he nodded.
With his confirmation that you weren’t some stranger trying to sneak in, they introduced themselves as the coach and scout of Seido; the other guy introduced himself as the Zono you’d heard from the phone before. You accepted them politely, but a stifling silence ensued afterward.
You snuck glances at Miyuki in the corner of your eye. He had raised his head, but his eyes remained on the white wall in front of him, eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, we should head out, then. Miyuki, will you be okay here?” Takashima asked, turning to look at him.
“I’m fine.”
His voice had dropped since junior high, but he still sounded the same. Just like the Miyuki you once knew. Except he sounded tired. You felt guilt bubble in the pit of your stomach, knowing you were probably going to stress him about more.
One by one, they all exited the room. Kuramochi had hissed something to Miyuki before he left, sending you a nod of solitude. When the door finally shut, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You shifted on your feet awkwardly. The silence was absolutely unnerving. You briefly considered just fleeing and never coming back, but that would be too cruel. Why should you show up abruptly then leave just as suddenly?
Yet, Miyuki still hadn’t spoken.
You took a deep breath, ignoring the racing of your heart, preparing to say something — anything.
Miyuki beat you to it. “Why are you here?”
Hurt pierced your heart. You faltered at the cold tone in his voice, the apathy, the indifference. Miyuki raised his head to look at you and any remnants of a response flew out of your head. He had matured, baby fat disappearing from his face and leaving someone else behind. Miyuki had grown into his looks. Those familiar brown eyes that had often glowed with mirth were hard, almost unrecognizable, burning into you with searing intensity.
You fidgeted with the strap of your bag, dropping your eyes to the floor. “Kuramochi called me. Said you were here so I — ”
“You thought you could come and visit like we were ‘old friends?’” Miyuki finished for you callously.
You dropped your head, trying not to let his words affect you. He was angry and Miyuki never spared his words much thought when he was angry. You certainly deserved his ire, anyhow. You’d been such a shitty friend.
You took a deep breath. “Not really. I know I haven’t been a good friend to you. I just thought . . . I don’t know. I thought you deserved to finally hear an explanation from me, but like I said before, it . . . might not be something you want to hear.”
Miyuki didn’t say anything else, turning to look at the window. You took that as your cue to continue, dragging a chair over to his bedside. You managed a reasonable distance away from the bed, dropping your bag onto the floor with a sigh.
“It’s taken far too long for me to explain myself. I understand if, even if you know, you’ll want to go our separate ways, though my explanation sort of ensures that you probably won’t want to talk to me, anyways.” You glanced up at him and he was still looking out the window, but his eyebrows were furrowed now. He was troubled.
You pushed on, dropping your eyes to your lap. “My reasons weren’t entirely for educational purposes, but I think you’ve picked up on that already, right? It was . . . Well, it was partially because of my sister’s advice, I guess. She didn’t say to leave because of you or anything, just that I had to prioritize my education when it came to picking a high school.”
You’d raised your eyes to his face and saw him raise his shoulders, the furrow of his eyebrows deepening in a way that told you he was ready to protest. You continued speaking before he could. “Seido is a great school. Looking back on it now, it probably would’ve benefitted me as much as Mimayama has. Plus,” you dropped your eyes back to your lap. “You would’ve been there, too.”
“What’s your point?”
You flinched at the sharpness of his voice. It cut deeply, making you feel small and insignificant. Still, you ventured further.
“That was the problem,” you mumbled. “You’d be there and I’d be with you. She — my sister — said not to let my feelings influence my decision. At this point, I’ve clearly missed the mark that she was aiming for. I just,” you paused, leaning forward to brace your elbows on your knees, rubbing your forehead tiredly. Your heart felt like it was going to break free from your ribs.
“I wanted to go to Seido with you. But if I did, I would’ve picked that school because I was in love with you. So, I went to Mimayama because I thought that by leaving, I could get rid of these feelings and we could continue to be friends.”
Finally saying it felt so relieving, like the pressure on your chest had lifted and you could breathe freely. The constraints of your secret were gone. But that left you to deal with the aftermath.
You didn’t raise your head as the silence seemed to echo, broken only by the occasional voice outside the room and the ticking of the clock. Miyuki still hadn’t said anything.
Your liberation ended with the cold revelation that no, he didn’t feel the same and you’d ruined your friendship permanently.
You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a few tears slid down your cheek. You rubbed them away roughly, though fresh ones replaced them immediately. Your chest and throat felt constricted, making breathing steadily a little difficult. You heard the sheets rustle as he moved.
“Why are you crying?” Did your ears betray you or had his voice softened? He still sounded tired as hell, but he didn’t sound irritated. If anything, his tone was almost exasperated.
You brushed away the fresh set of tears but they just kept coming. Was this two years of pent-up frustration coming to the surface? Or was it because of the imminent end of your friendship?
“I just ruined my friendship,” you muttered, sniffling. It didn’t look like your tears would be stopping anytime soon, so you decided to save yourself the embarrassment; you stood up then grabbed your bag and stood up quickly, covering your face with your arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — ”
“Wait,” he called quickly. You stepped back as you heard the hospital bed creak then a soft ‘fuck’ reached your ears, making you drop your arm away from your eyes.
Your eyes widened once you saw he had sat up and shifted, moving to stand up in front of you. “Don’t get up, you’ll hurt yourself more!” You put a hand on his shoulder, trying pushing him down, but it was all in vain. The strength he had gained over the years — and more recently as the cleanup for Seido — was no match for your own. He stood up and you found yourself trapped with him in the space between the chair and the bed.
You froze. With this proximity, you could lean your forehead on his chest; in fact, you could almost feel the warmth he radiated. You dropped your eyes immediately. Funnily enough, your tears were quickly drying with this new distraction.
Miyuki pried your fingers off his shoulder and your heart fell to your stomach, but instead of dropping your hand, he clasped your hand between his own. His grip was tight and unyielding. The message was clear. You weren’t going anywhere.
(And to be completely honest, you didn’t want to be anywhere else.)
You saw his chest lift and fall as he sighed, the warm air brushing over the crown of your head, tickling stray pieces of flyaway hair. There were too many things going on at once. You felt the coarseness of his palms against your hand, callouses rubbing against the skin roughly, the distinct scent of a generic detergent brand printed on the cotton t-shirt he was wearing. But it was all so Miyuki that you couldn’t complain.
Being this close, hearing his steady breathing, he was here. That familiar comfort you’d always found with him was slowly returning and that was dangerous. You didn’t even know if he still wanted to be your friend. But maybe . . .
“You’re right,” he finally said.
“About what?”
“About ruining our friendship.”
You flinched, taking a step back and running into the chair. It scraped loudly against the floor. Well, then. At least that had been solved, right? You felt the tears that had dried begin to well up again, the hurt piercing your heart like a knife once more. You tried to pull your hand away but he was too strong for you.
“Miyuki — ”
“I don’t want to be your friend if you feel like that.”
Your mouth quivered. “I get it, you don’t need to — ”
He released your hand but before you could step away, his hands were cradling your face, tilting you towards him. You had no choice but to look at him. You inhaled sharply, feeling exposed underneath his gaze. But more than that, his eyes held an unspoken tenderness that hadn’t been there before. His thumbs gently brushed away the stray tears that had escaped.
“I’m not . . . good with this,” he said. “But I don’t want to be your friend because I — ” He stopped, almost seeming to pout at his lack of articulation. You had an inkling to what he was trying to say, to what he was hinting at and it made your chest tighten, made your palms sweaty and your heart race.
“Why?” you blurted out, feeling like you had to know why he would chose you, out of all people, and also because you weren’t sure you could deal with the implications of his words so soon.
Miyuki looked genuinely confused. “What?”
“After all I did . . . Not talking to you . . . Honestly, I understand why you blocked me — ”
“Blocked you? I never blocked you,” he frowned.
“I — Your number didn’t work when I tried to text you for your birthday last year,” you clarified. “No call, either.”
“Oh. Oh.” He seemed to understand and winced, a guilty expression passing over his face. “I got a new phone a few days before that. I broke my old one — ”
“How do you break a Nokia?”
He grinned, tugging on your cheek playfully and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his grin, so warm and full of mirth. You felt like a little thirteen-year-old again, experiencing the first adrenaline rush of your feelings.
“My teammates broke it,” he corrected. “Dad got me one, said it was partially a birthday present, too. I got a new phone number but I . . . Well, I never texted you my new number. I had yours, I just didn’t . . .” he trailed off and the happy bubble you two had found yourselves in popped.
It hurt, but you understood. Miyuki was the type to need to know — he needed to know why you had avoided telling him for so long, why you wanted to go all the way to Kyoto for school; he was analytical in every aspect of his life. You weren’t going to be excluded from that particular quirk.
But you also wondered what would happen now. If his terrible word phrasing from earlier said anything about it, Miyuki seemed to think of you as more than a friend — but it had been two years since you two had spoken or even interacted face-to-face.
“Hey.”
You blinked, refocusing on him. He was frowning, eyebrows furrowed as he squished your cheeks together. You struggled in his grip, feeling a scowl quickly form on your lips. “Your hands are probably filthy, stop that — ”
He sighed and dropped his hands from your face, stepping back to lean on the hospital bed fully. You were . . . disappointed at the ensuring distance, no longer finding his natural warmth at your disposal. You chided yourself; Miyuki had an injury. He shouldn’t exert so much energy. You weren’t sure about the extent of his injury, exactly, but if he had fainted from the pain, then it had to be worrying, right?
You scrutinized his appearance, too caught up in your worries to be shameful. At least that was one thing that never changed. (And would probably never change.)
“You should sit back down, Miyuki.”
Miyuki huffed softly. “It’s just an oblique muscle tear on my right side. And I’m not made of glass, you know.”
“I know.”
“And hey,” he caught your attention again. “Why do you always call me by my last name? Even Mei calls me by my first.”
You shrugged, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden question. “I don’t know. It was just a thing I always did. Besides, this is Mei we’re talking about.”
He snorted. “That’s true. Wait,” he frowned at you. “Since when do you call Mei by his first name? This is just unfair.” He pouted a little and you huffed.
“I’m relieved to see that you haven’t changed, and well, we’ve sort of . . . become friends.”
“You know we lost our ticket to Nationals because of Inashiro, right?”
You rolled your eyes. “Well, you’re going to Koshien Stadium now, aren’t you? It’s basically the same thing.”
“It’s not.”
“Mei and I are friends, I guess. He was the one who encouraged me to — to talk to you. Try and rekindle our friendship.”
“What exactly did he say?”
You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at Miyuki. “Why do you want to know?”
Miyuki shrugged carelessly. “Mei’s the type to incite action in someone else. Would you have come if you hadn’t spoken to him?”
You made a choked sound of disbelief. “You’re assuming — ”
“You said you were in love with me, didn’t you?”
The abrupt reminder of your confession was like a slap to the face. You shut your mouth silently, feeling embarrassed at being put on the spot like this.
Miyuki looked thoughtful. “Whatever he said must’ve resonated with you. I imagine your sister had a hand in this, too. She doesn’t like taking the blame, does she?”
You were worried about nothing, apparently. Miyuki seemed to remember all your ticks now as he had two years ago. In fact, just being with him for these past few minutes have been refreshing. It was like coming home.
Miyuki huffed softly at your lack of response. “Look, I . . . I’m sorry. For everything.”
You stiffened. “What are you — ”
He says your name lowly, cutting you off short.
There was an edge of rawness in his voice, a vulnerability that you hadn’t ever heard before. You swallowed your response, watching him tentatively as he dropped his head, turning his eyes to the ground.
“These last few months were difficult. Did you know I was made captain? The, uh, previous captain — Yuki — nominated me, of all people. You know how I am. As you might imagine, we had a few clashes, but things are coming together now. I mean, we won. Can you believe that?” Miyuki laughed, but it was cold and brittle.
You didn’t like how depreciating this was turning. He may’ve asked for your silence, but if all he was going to do was put himself down, then you would put a stop to it.
As if sensing your climbing ire, he looked back up and the anger simmered, fading to a dull roar as you met his eyes. There was a warmth in there you hadn’t ever seen before.
“We got through it. We’re here now. Things are looking up. This damn injury . . . It’s just a speed bump in a long road. But through it all, I kept going back to you. You never left my mind. I,” he paused again and dropped his eyes, seemingly embarrassed, “I missed you.” It came out like a mumble, a hesitant admission; expected for someone as emotionally closed off as Miyuki.
But you found it charming. His inability to respond in closely social situations, in times like this that were intimate. You knew him well enough to know what he was saying.
“So, I’m sorry. For ignoring you. For prying when it wasn’t my place. For being an asshole about it all, really.”
You took a deep breath. This was it. “I’m sorry, too. No matter what, you deserved to know the truth.”
“Well.” It sounded like Miyuki disagreed as he reached up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “It was a deeply personal reason.”
You snorted. “No shit.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve always felt the same.”
You froze.
There it was.
Your heart was going into overdrive once again and you found your breath stolen from you when he lifted his head to make eye contact with you. There was still that warmth in there that hadn’t been present before. But maybe it had always been there, you had just never seen it. Miyuki was a master at disguising his emotions and you supposed you couldn’t ever have idealized the concept of him having feelings for you to be able to actually notice it.
“And I think,” he continued quietly, “that we’re not ever going to be the same again. But that’s okay. So, let’s start off with you calling me by my first name, yeah?”
The air left your lungs in a rush and before you could even think to manage an agreement, he lifted his hand to your cheek, settling warmly on the curve, thumb brushing gently over it. He pushed forward and you knew, you knew where this was heading. You didn’t stop him. You weren’t sure you wanted to. Sure, there might’ve been some things that still needed to be discussed but you had settled your battles for the most part.
So when he asked, his voice soft in the tenderness of the moment, “Can I kiss you?” You found it a little hard to keep standing straight, so why wouldn’t you have leaned forward on him — totally mindful of his injury, of course — and met his lips halfway.
There might’ve been a number of things that ruined it for anyone else — having to watch his right side constantly so you didn’t hurt him, the bookbag still weighing heavily on your shoulder, keeping an ear out for the nurses and doctors — but there were other factors that made it perfect for you.
The warm and firm press of his mouth on yours, easily consuming all your senses with everything that was Miyuki Kazuya but retaining a gentleness that was also him. Always making sure you were comfortable. And the way his other hand had easily fallen to your waist to keep you in place was your anchor, powerful tendons of his arm underneath your palm that kept you from falling into the sea.
It was strange. He was both all-consuming and anchoring.
He shifted, angling a little more to slant his lips over yours, deepening and taking you down to the depths of the ocean. You followed willingly, reciprocating eagerly if only to prolong this experience. But the growing burn in your lungs was going to be a problem soon.
That was okay. He was back in your life now, wasn’t he? Miyuki Kazuya wasn’t a stranger, he wasn’t a friend; he was something more, a fixated presence in your life that caused you both immense happiness and irritation. No one was perfect, you knew, but even with all his faults and flaws, he came pretty damn close.
And he was right, too.
You had sort of ruined your friendship, though you supposed it was on his end, too. This was a two-way street, after all.
But as he pulled away, breathing a little faster than usual, his lips beginning to swell, you didn’t find yourself mourning the end of it. No, as he caught his breath and leaned forward again to claim your mouth, you found yourself looking forward to what he’d bring.
Your future was firmly entrenched with his and you wanted it to stay that way.
#fair warning i wrote this when i was in my. sophomore year. in 2019. LOL#its not bad! im actually quite fond of this fic#particularly of my characterizations. mei especially. he grew on me while writing it#its been up on ao3 since 2019 i just thought that since i'm posting dogfish here#i might as well throw up my other oneshots#the shorter content basically. long stuff will be posted strictly to ao3 or wattpad#daiya no ace x reader#daiya no ace#ace of diamond#ace of diamond x reader#miyuki kazuya#miyuki kazuya x reader#miyuki#moss writes
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my baseball nerd | miyuki kazuya x reader
summary: in which kazuya is just being the baseball nerd he is
word count: about 500
just fluff <33
The sound of the television filled the room as Kazuya sat on the couch, his eyes glued to the baseball game playing out on the screen. Y/N joined him, curious about the intensity in his gaze as he watched every pitch and analyzed every play.
"Kazuya, you're such a baseball nerd," she teased, nudging him playfully.
He turned to her with a mischievous smile, not taking his eyes off the game. "Well, Y/N, it's not every day you get to witness the brilliance of the game firsthand. There's so much strategy, technique, and skill involved. It's fascinating."
Y/N chuckled, leaning closer to him. "I'll never understand your obsession with baseball, but I do love seeing your passion for it. You light up when you talk about the game."
Kazuya's eyes twinkled with excitement. "It's more than just a game, Y/N. It's a beautiful dance between the pitcher and the batter, a battle of wits and athleticism. Each pitch holds the potential for greatness or disappointment. And as a catcher, I get a front-row seat to all of it."
Y/N leaned back against the couch, crossing her arms playfully. "I suppose I should consider myself lucky to have a baseball nerd for a boyfriend. At least you'll always have something to talk about."
Kazuya's grin widened as he turned to her, his eyes filled with enthusiasm. "Oh, Y/N, you have no idea. I could talk about baseball for hours. The strategies, the statistics, the rivalries—it's endless. And I won't hesitate to educate you on the intricacies of the game."
She rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation. "Please, spare me the baseball lectures. I might just fall asleep."
He pretended to be offended, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Fall asleep? My passionate discussions about baseball are riveting, Y/N. I promise you won't be able to tear your eyes away."
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, Kazuya, I'll humor you. Just don't be too disappointed when I start daydreaming about other things."
He feigned shock, his eyes widening. "How dare you? Baseball should be the only thing occupying your mind at all times!"
Their banter continued throughout the game, with Kazuya passionately explaining various plays and Y/N playfully teasing him about his obsession. It was a familiar dance between them, a playful back-and-forth that brought joy and laughter to their relationship.
As the game reached its climax, Kazuya's excitement grew, his eyes never leaving the screen. Y/N watched him, marveling at his childlike enthusiasm and unwavering dedication to the sport he loved.
"You know," she said, breaking the playful banter for a moment, "your passion for baseball is one of the things I love about you. It's a part of who you are, and I wouldn't change it for the world."
Kazuya turned to her, a soft smile on his face. "And your acceptance of my baseball nerdiness is one of the things I love about you. You embrace all parts of me, even the ones that might seem a little strange."
Y/N leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Well, someone has to keep you grounded, right?"
He chuckled, his eyes still glinting with excitement. "I suppose you're right. And who knows, maybe one day you'll find yourself caught up in the magic of baseball too."
Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Never say never, Kazuya. With you by my side, anything is possible."
#miyuki kazuya#daiya no ace#diamond no ace#anime#fluff#miyuki x reader#miyuki#sawamura eijun#miyuki fluff#baseball#daiya no ace headcanon#headcanon#scenarios#miyuki kazuya smut#miyuki kazuya fluff#daiyo no ace x reader#ace of diamond#ace of diamond x reader
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» 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲 *:・゚✧
» 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: miyuki kazuya x reader | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2,5k | dna masterlist
» 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬): AFAB reader, slightly soft dom(?) reader, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight corruption kink, premature ejaculation, pet names m!recieving lmk if i missed anything.
» 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Miyuki Kazuya does not need sex, thank you very much. he can handle himself, and honestly his focus is solely on baseball. somehow you manage to get him in bed though, and it turns out; Miyuki is a whiny lil’ bitch in bed.
» 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: reposted from my old blog @bacchira
Who would have thought Miyuki Kazuya to be a whiny mess in bed, really? Miyuki may be both cocky and confident, but he is also completely and utterly inexperienced. He himself wasn’t one to seek out partners. Never really felt the need. He played baseball and loved it. He was good at it. So, what more could he really want or need? Nothing really if you asked him. Honestly if he needed relief, he could take care of himself. He knew what he liked, and it wouldn’t take much time away from his training. So why would he feel the need to look for more? And truth be told, it wasn’t like girls or guys flocked around him for a chance to date him. Even with his undeniable skills at baseball and good looks, his raw personality kept many a suitor away through the years. But not you. You knew what he was about, but for some obscure reason, you didn’t shy away. Oh no.
It took you quite some convincing to even get him alone. He wasn’t looking for anything and he definitely didn’t have time for any nonsense, thank you very much. But you did manage to do just that in due time. To convince him. And once you did, it wasn’t actually that hard to get him where you wanted him. Which was underneath you.
“Shit,” his breath shuddered as you had his cock in a firm hold, condom rolled all the way down and rubbing the tip through your folds while persistently holding his gaze. Miyuki’s hands were fisted hard in the sheets of the bed under him, and even with the wall supporting his back, he’s desperate for anything to hold on to. To ground him. You bite down on your lower lip when you finally line up the tip of his cock with your entrance, letting yourself drop just slightly. Miyuki grabbed hold of your hips in a bruising hold when the tip of his cock pushed inside, eyes screwing shut behind his glasses.
“Hey,” you said, voice only betraying your own pleasure in the slightest. Miyuki being Miyuki, he probably would have noticed if it hadn’t been for the way you engulfed him so tightly. Snug and warm. “Pretty boy. Look at me.” Miyuki’s cock twitched at your words. And his hips bucked involuntarily. With labored breathing he opened his eyes once more to try and focus his gaze on you.
“Don’t— Don’t do that,” he panted.
“Oh?” You let yourself sink down further, enjoying the way his cock forced you open. “You like it when I call you that, Pretty Boy?” You really couldn’t help the cocky grin that formed on your lips. Miyuki was quite the sight, flushed, eyes shining, and teeth harshly gritted together. You couldn’t help but place a hand on his cheek, almost huffing a laugh as he leaned into your touch, jaw going slack.
Soon enough, you’d settled all the way down in his lap, cock sheathed deep inside your walls. You didn’t offer him much time to steel himself for what was to come before you rubbed your thumb over his bottom lip and rolled your hips against his. Miyuki’s hands twitched on your hips and a moan escaped his lips. His cheeks flushed even harder, seemingly embarrassed by the sound that had just left him, but to you— it only made you want to make him even more red. So, while you worked your hips against him, you found yourself propping your thumb into his mouth, forcing it further up. Pressing down in his tongue, Miyuki had no means to stop the sounds rising in his throat from tumbling out around your digit.
“You’re such a good boy. Do you like this?” you cooed and ground against him harder. A particularly high-pitched moan clearly told you that he did, but you needed him to acknowledge it. “Come on, don’t be shy. Do you like it?” And that was your good boy. Miyuki nodded with shiny eyes, a bit of drool slipping down his chin. This really was a sight for sore eyes.
It didn’t take you long to set up a pace that had Miyuki panting out the prettiest sound in time with your movements and had his muscles tensing up. No doubt he was at your mercy as you worked his cock until his eyes rolled back. Pulling your finger from his mouth, you leaned down and licked his lower lip, before capturing it between your teeth and pulling slightly. The moan he gave, had you picking up just that little bit of extra speed. Miyuki tilted his head in an attempt at catching your lips, but you couldn’t help but tease him by pulling back.
Sending him a confident grin, you took his hands in yours. Feeling him tremble slightly, you guided his hands, as his fingers ghosted over your skin, from your thighs and under your skirt. Sliding around your hips and settling on the mounds of your ass. Letting go of his hands, you own fingers quickly found their way to the front of Miyuki’s shirt, sliding up against his abs.
“Come on,” you told him as he looked at you with big eyes. “Have a feel.” With your own fingers against his, you help him support you as you shift gears and bounce in his lap.
“F—Fuck,” Miyuki ground out as his face scrunched up, teeth clenched, and one eye completely shut.
“Hm?” You kept your pace high as you guided one of his hands around to your front instead. Placing his hand against your abdomen and pressing his thumb to your clit had you shuddering and clenching around his cock. His hips bucked against you, meeting your thrusts. You moan and taking your pace up just another notch.
“S—slow down.” You almost laughed at the way he was clearly holding back, and for a second you considered whether you should push him over the edge already or play with him a bit longer. After a second or two you decided on the latter, slowing down until you were rolling your hips in slow circles against him.
“Does it feel good?” you asked him.
“Yes—”
“Do you want me to make you feel even better?” You felt Miyuki twitching inside of you and even before he nodded, you knew what it meant. He’d been so close, and if you wanted to play for longer, which you did, you’d have to shift gears. “How about I let you go raw instead?” Another, stronger, twitch inside of you replied as his fingers dug into your skin.
“I—” Miyuki gulped; eyes bewildered as he studied you with only half a mind to consider the risks. He could just pull out, right? Right. He knew that much. If he hadn’t been buried inside of you, he probably would have turned the offer down, but here he was. Right now, he wanted nothing more, so instead of objecting, he closed his mouth and nodded in agreement. You couldn’t help but smile. He was so cute.
“First, let’s get these off of you,” you told him, and carefully lifted his glasses off his face, setting them on the bedside table. “And this one follows.” Your hands returned to the hem of his shirt. He wasn’t late to push off the wall and helping get rid of his shirt, discarding it on the floor.
Miyuki reached for your shirt but hesitated, looking up at you. With a harder roll of your hips against his, you nodded in agreement and soon your shirt was discarded on the floor with his own. For a moment, as he was faced with your chest, he just stared. He’d never been one to stare, but you looked so good, and he had to bite his lip to refrain from just diving face-first into your chest. But instead, you picked that very moment to get off of his lap, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen accompanied by a soft whine from Miyuki himself.
“Second, we’re going to need this one off too,” you told him teasingly, but before you could reach out to help, Miyuki was discarding of the rubber as well. As he did so, you laid back on the bed and rested on your elbows, eyeing him up in challenge. Bending one knee and spreading that leg out to the side, you sent him a little smirk. “Show me what you’ve got, Pretty Boy.”
Miyuki wasted no time before he shoved off the wall and all but crawled over you. The hunger and excitement in his eyes had you chuckle softly as you beckoned him closer with a finger. His cheeks were red, his lips swollen and glistened in the dim light of the room. When he was in reach, you snatched his chin and brought his face to yours.
“You’re adorable, do you know that?” you whispered, and the red of his cheek deepened so fast and so intensely that you almost laughed again. Instead, you tilted your head up and caught his lips. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging onto the flesh of Miyuki’s ass, pulling him closer.
Feeling the mattress shift, you opened your eyes just slightly, watching as Miyuki reached down between your bodies. For a moment you let him try an align himself at your entrance, but with his eyes closed and lips locked with yours, that proved to be a difficult task. Miyuki’s eyes sprung open when your hand wrapped around his at the base of his cock. You broke the kiss and moved your head to the side of his, lips just shy of his ear.
“Let me help you,” you breathed against his ear. Steady and keeping his gaze locked with yours, you guide his hand until you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. You felt him already slipping inside from just a gentle buck of your hips. “Good boy,” you praise as Miyuki slips in further. Slick and his own precum made for a smooth entrance and soon enough, he made it all the way inside. Your hands settled on each side of his face, and you felt the catcher shudder when he’d bottomed out inside.
“Shit—” Supporting himself with both hands, one on each side of your face, Miyuki’s face scrunched up in your hands. “I need—I’m gonna—Fuck.”
“Not yet,” you told him and let your hands travel down the sides of his neck. “Need you to be a good boy, okay?” Even as he nods, you give him a moment to collect himself. You may enjoy teasing him, but not if it meant your shared fun would end right then and there. So, you lifted your head and placed your lips against his, letting your nails scrape lightly over his hard torso. His lips moved against yours and you almost yelped in surprise when Miyuki angled his head and deepened the kiss. He was learning, and you couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss as you clenched down around him, and he moaned into the kiss.
When Miyuki’s body loosened up from the tension that’d held him locked in place, you ground your hips against his. Digging your heels into his skin, you sparked him into motion. With a hard exhale, Miyuki tryingly pulled back out. His breathing shuddered against your lips as he pushed back in. You lifted your hips to meet his thrust, and when he repeated the movement, so did you, slowly working together. By chance, Miyuki shifted and hit something deep inside of you that had you throwing your head back, breaking the kiss. Your moan had Miyuki’s cock twitching inside of you.
As if spurred on by the sound he’d ripped from your throat, Miyuki picked up his pace, a bit of his usual confidence showing its face. Miyuki may not have much experience, if any when it came to sex, but he did know how to read people. So, when you’d let a moan slip, he clearly knew he’d done something right. He’d hit something, and he couldn’t wait to hit it again.
Miyuki’s head dropped to your shoulder as he increased his pace and relentlessly fucked into you. His moans mingling with yours in a sweet symphony, accompanied by the wet squelching between your bodies. Seeking leverage, your hands settled on his shoulders and fingers dug into his skin as his thrusts met with your own.
Instinct took over and Miyuki’s thrusts turned frantic, and you knew where it was leading. But you also didn’t find it in you to deny him once more. Probably mostly, because what he did with those hips of his, felt good. And you just couldn’t bear to stop him, for either of your sakes. Instead, you wound your legs a little tighter around his middle and pulled him closer, drawing a deep groan from him. His lips found your neck, teeth scraping against your skin, right above your beating pulse. Your walls tightened around him drawing him in further.
“I can’t—”
“I know,” you moaned, cutting him off before he could finish speaking. One of your hands snaked down between you, reaching for your clit, and rubbing circles around your nub.
“I need—” Miyuki tried pulling back, but you only tightened your hold on him further. Clamping down and pushing him closer with your legs around his body.
“Do it,” you urged into his ear and dug your fingers harder into his skin.
“What’re—Please—” His hips ground against you, as your legs held him firmly against you until you could no longer fit your hand in between you two, not letting him pull back. Rolling his hips in small circles against you, his moans turned high-pitched. Whiny. “Let—Let me out, I’m gonna—”
“Come on, cum for me, Pretty Boy.” Miyuki’s teeth sunk into your shoulder and his eyes screwed shut, drilling into you hard. You clenched around him once more, and he let you go with a loud moan. One hand slid into his hair and pulled his lips to yours in a wet clash. Then you pulled back. “Cum for me.”
“Shit—you f—Okay, fine!” Miyuki ground his hips against you harder, and the blissed grin on your face told him, that this was exactly what you’d wanted all along. “Take all—all of it—” With stuttering hips and his vision blurring. White. He clenched his teeth, as he released inside of you, painting your insides, and fucking his cum into you deeper. Your own head thrown back as his thrusts start to slow.
Coming down from his high, he seemed to realize you hadn’t reached your edge, and from the sheepish look on his face, you knew he felt bad. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Yes, he came too fast and the both of you knew, but you also both knew that he was very new to this, so a little bit of encouragement seemed fitting. So, you sent him a smirk and clenched down on his softening cock, before he had the chance to pull out.
“Don’t worry,” you told him, rocking your hips against him, and feeling his cock twitching inside. “There’s always round two, Pretty Boy.”
*:・゚✧ thank you for reading ♡
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there is actually one thing i personally found ddlc did better than totono, which is monika's role as a character herself! miyuki is not only a love interest but the enforced first love interest, the Main Girl, but monika is hitting on a very specific character niche in bishoujo games and their fandoms (the cutely-designed female side character with no route who develops a cult fan following, inspires tons of doujin work, and maybe ultimately gets focus on a fandisc if fans are lucky) and an important mechanical role in genuine dating sims (the tutorial/info guy) and i think that actually serves the meta plot in a far cleverer way
she's a character evoking a trope all about the players, their desire for something out of reach and the creativity that can inspire, playing a gameplay role that in true dating sims is basically part of the user interface more than a character allowed to be part of the action - again, a role defined by interaction with the player themself. having that character be the one to fall in love with the player rather than the main character and rewrite the game to give herself the opportunity she doesn't have in a narrative she's not meant to be an active player in is really smart and something that really shines if you're familiar with the genre conventions she's playing with! totono might have done the game-altering fourth wall breaking metanarrative and tokimemo4 might have done the female info guy turning into a hidden yandere love interest, but the combination of the two is genuinely really good.
it's a shame plus seemed so determined to tear down so much of what the original built tbh
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Okay so I've joked before to friends that like every stage of Dracmon's Survive evo line is a straight up cw teen drama thirst trap
But today is the first time I really had the cursed thought of like
Survive as a whole if it was adapted as a really bad cw teen drama
You know like these kids if they were played by 25+ year old actors pretending to be teenagers except like Miu and Miyuki who are played by like 8 year olds you know
There's an unnecessary love triangle that takes up more screentime than the plot
Important abilities and traits that different characters have are all given to Takuma because he's the main character
He doesn't wear goggles. His shirt is also gone half the time because he's played by Taylor Lautner. He is not recognizable as Takuma in any capacity.
Everyone else is reduced to their surface level traits because the show writers only played the prologue
They adapt the moral route instead of the truthful route to be edgy and speed run the first deaths so hard that they're not even emotional and the audience is happy they're gone
THE KIDS DON'T HAVE PARTNERS THEY JUST TURN INTO THE DIGIMON LIKE FRONTIER BUT STUPID
They scrap the return home episode because Miyuki is not allowed to have agency or a personality in a cw teen drama and fill the space with cringy teen romance
HEY DO THINK THEY WOULD MAKE EVERYONE AGRESSIVELY CISHET OR DO YOU THINK THEY'D CHOOSE A RANDOM CHARACTER TO BE GAY JUST SO THEY CAN MAKE HOMOPHOBIC JOKES LIKE THAT ONE GUY IN MOVIE DEAR EVAN HANSEN
I don't know why I'm putting so much thought into this but it's so funny to me
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I like behind-the-scenes character trivia, so here is a copypasted compilation of that from Precure wiki, and also some bits I was able to find on Pixiv. The Pixiv stuff is based on google translate and my own faulty Japanese so take them with a grain of salt (and I’m not fact checking any of this anyway).
Cure Black
Cure Black's outfit was upgraded in Max Heart due to parental concerns about how her previous outfit might have been too revealing for children.
Nagisa's name was originally going to be Kuni (クニ), as revealed in the concept art book.
Yes! Precure 5
There were initial plans to have all five Cures be in a student council (with Nozomi as the president), but it was scrapped due to not wanting everyone to be on the side of power. (from Pixiv)
They were supposed to appear in the Healin’ Good anime first before going to the Tokyo trip in the movie together, but this was scrapped due to covid. (from Pixiv)
Milky Rose
According to an interview with the producer of the Yes! 5 series (Washio Takashi), he didn't expect the series to last for two years and also never meant to make Milk have a human alias. However, when the production of the sequel started, he wanted to make a new character become a Pretty Cure who would have been familiar with the Cures from the start and eventually chose Milk.
Cure Passion
In the book "Drawing Fantastic Female Fighters", it’s revealed that she was originally going to have a similar look to Cure Peach, save for an increase in hair volume until her costume was changed to look like armor to help her stand out.
Additionally, in early stages, animators played around with things like the position of the ribbon and different headband shapes.
The same book also revealed two things regarding Setsuna as Eas:
The diamond-like cross on the back of her outfit represented the burden she bore before her defection.
Her original hairstyle lacked a headband and looked a bit too much like bedhead. But a hairstyle borrowed from a newscaster didn't appeal to Toei's target demographic.
Cure Blossom / Cure Flower
According to an issue of Drawing Fantastic Female Fighters, Cure Flower's design is based off how the staff imagined a grown-up Cure Blossom.
Cure Marine
According to character designer Umakoshi Yoshihiko, she was originally to have an updo hairstyle as Cure Marine
Cure Rhythm
In prototype concept art, Cure Rhythm was originally going to be a purple Cure.
Cure Happy
Miyuki was originally planned to be in cheerleading club. (from Pixiv)
Cure March
Her theme colour was originally planned to be purple, but was changed so that the characters would form a bright rainbow colour when lined up. (from Pixiv)
Cure Diamond
In the Official Complete Book of Doki Doki! Pretty Cure, it was revealed that Rikka does not have romantic feelings towards Ira, though there were initially plans to develop it. "On romantic feelings: I don't feel that Rikka has romantic feelings toward Ira, though there were plans to develop it. But that would be overdoing it for Pretty Cure."
Instead, it was confirmed by the director of Doki Doki! after the finale aired that Diamond was in love romantically with Heart, in turn how she freed herself after becoming frozen by her own attack is considered as a plot hole. Therefore, in theory Diamond sacrificed herself for Heart.
Cure Rosetta
Alice was initially planned to have an older brother named Hiromichi, who was the former student council president of Oogai Middle School and was the one who led Mana to become president herself. He was eventually cut due to the idea of Mana having a crush on him, which went against her "charity" character idea. This is mentioned in the Official Complete Book of Doki Doki! Pretty Cure.
Cure Sword
She was originally going to join the team halfway through the series, but the idea was scrapped due to her appearance in New Stage 2.
DokiDoki was supposed to be a 3-person team, with Sword joining as the mid-season Cure. When her joining was pushed to episode 6, a lot of plot elements had to be changed, such as Sword originally having a lot of senpai Precure from Trump Kingdom. (from Pixiv)
Cure Lovely
According to her official TV Asahi profile, she had made 100 friends during elementary school.
Her mother was planned to have an incurable disease, with the end series conflict being that Megumi has to choose between world peace and curing her mother, but it was scrapped due to being too heavy. (from Pixiv)
Cure Princess
Was originally going to be named Cure Brave (from Pixiv)
Cure Honey
Was originally going to be named Cure Tender, which later was reused for Iona’s sister (from Pixiv)
She was planned to have a plotline about some unspecified insecurity, but it was removed because her character turned out to be too mature for that to fit. (from Pixiv)
Cure Fortune
Was originally going to be named Cure Mercy (from Pixiv)
Her original design looked too much like an office lady, but elements of it (like the pencil skirt) were reused for Cure Tender (from Pixiv)
Cure Echo
She had her own 10th anniversary greeting storyboarded, but it wasn’t animated due to her position as a special character (from Pixiv)
Cure Twinkle
During early development, her transformation background color was yellow instead of purple.
Cure Miracle
Mirai was originally going to be revealed to have Magic World ancestry, but this concept was eventually scrapped by writers who wanted her to be the more normal member of the Mahou Tsukai team, making her the only of the main Mahou Tsukai! Cures not to come from the Magic World.
A handsome boy who was popular among girls was supposed to be Mirai’s classmate, and a story line where Mirai and Riko aren’t swayed by him was planned. (from Pixiv)
Cure Magical
During the production of Mahou Tsukai, Riko was originally going to have a rival named Shiina Ryuuichi, who was scrapped and ended up being a background character instead.
Cure Mofurun
According to an interview with movie director Tanaka Yuta, most of the staff of Mahou Tsukai Pretty Cure! originally thought of Mofurun as genderless. She became a girl through the development of the series and the characters - as a fact file states, they even wanted to include a line about Mofurun saying that she is “a girl, mofu!”, but did not get the chance to.
The fact file includes description of original plans for Mirai to have thought of Mofurun as a boy in her childhood, but Mofurun deciding otherwise after she became alive and telling her so in the above line.
A rough sketch by Miyamoto Emiko reveals that Mofurun was originally going to wear an overall-like garment.
Cure Chocolat
Early character exploration art by Ino Marie, the character designer, shows her to be scared of bugs and ghosts.
Cure Yell
According to an interview with Kawamura, the character designer, in the January 2019 issue of the Japanese magazine Animage, the tragedy version of Hana from the future where George and Hugtan came from had never transferred schools. Because she never met Saaya or Homare and was stuck in such a hostile environment, Hana saw no reason to better herself at all.
According to staff member Tsubota Fumi, she based Hana's personality on her voice actor, and she even asked Hikisaka Rie about Hana's feelings for George, adding that it was the beginning of budding feelings. She also asked Rie about whether Hana would like Amano Hinase back, but Rie said that it would be impossible for Hana who prefers men that are older and more mature than him.
Cure Ange
According to an interview with Kawamura, one of the writers, in the January 2019 issue of the Japanese magazine Animage, the version of Saaya from the future where George and Hugtan came from never got to pursue her ambition as a doctor as she would be pressured by the high expectations set by her mother.
Cure Etoile
According to an interview with Kawamura, one of the writers, in the January 2019 issue of the Japanese magazine Animage, the version of Homare from the future where George and Hugtan came from is indicated that she would've remained a delinquent or worse after succumbing to the despair caused by her failed skating experience.
The original concept design for Homare had her wear pigtails in civilian form before being changed into her bob cut. Additionally her near final concept design was meant to don pigtails instead of the side tail hairstyle.
Cure Macherie
According to an interview with Kawamura, one of the writers, in the January 2019 issue of the Japanese magazine Animage, the version of Emiru from the future where George and Hugtan came from would never achieve her dream of becoming a guitarist and singer, because she and her elder brother, Masato would still be living under the oppressive mentality of their grandfather.
Emiru was originally going to be named "Utau", but the staff thought it sounded too old fashioned.
Cure Star
According to head writer Murayama Isao, a producer from ABC suggested the name "Akari" as an alternative to Hikaru, which he viewed as "too strong." Murayama thought "Akari" would be interesting since the character would share a name with the producer, Yanagawa Akari, but Hikaru was ultimately chosen.
Hikaru originally had glasses (from Pixiv)
Cure Milky
Although she has claimed to be an adult, and is considered one on her home planet, her voice actress stated in an interview that in terms of her character's actual maturity level, “It was a lie.”
In the January 2020 special issue of Animage, primarily focusing on Star☆Twinkle Pretty Cure, series composition Murayama Isao stated that Lala's name was chosen because it felt right and "alien-like."
Cure Soleil
According to head writer Murayama Isao, Elena was originally going to be the student council president. However, as "pink and purple are more popular from a business standpoint," he was asked to keep the colors pink and purple as components "certain to mesh well," meaning Hikaru and Madoka were to be interconnected as opposing forces. As a result, Madoka became the president instead.
In contrast to Hikaru and Madoka, Lala and Elena were given more leeway when creating their characters, which is why the latter has a big family and a foreigner for a father. In terms of audience perception, Murayama admitted Elena was the most challenging as he predicted Lala would be perceived well for being an alien. That's why he and producer Yanagawa Akari were happy to hear that Elena's popularity grew as the series progressed.
When coming up with Cure Soleil's name, Murayama noted that the word "Elena" first came to mind. However, since Elena is a normal name for girls, it would have been like naming her "Cure Hanako," so they used Elena for her civilian name instead.
Cure Selene
According to the January 2020 special issue of Animage, primarily focusing on Star☆Twinkle Pretty Cure, series composition Murayama Isao was the one who came up with the name "Madoka," and that it would be written with the kanji "円" which indicates a circle, or full moon in this context.
Cure Cosmo
Murayama noted that Yuni's phantom thief element was primarily pushed by the female staff of the project. Producer Yanagawa Akari admitted to this, as she grew up watching anime where a girl transforms into a phantom thief, those who have a stylish image such as Mine Fujiko from "Lupin III." She wanted to create an image of a "cool, independent woman" in Yuni.
According to the Kamikita twins, who draw the Pretty Cure manga, Yuni grows up to be 175cm during the 15 years time skip.
Cure Grace
According to an interview from Animage 2021, Ikeda confirmed that Nodoka had been ill for five years until the middle of her first middle school year.
Revealed in the Official Complete Book, Cure Grace was the hardest character for Yamaoka Naoko to design, as she had revised her design 13 times.
Cure Sparkle
According to an interview in the magazine Animage, Hinata's character development was affected because of the hiatus the season had to take due to the COVID-19 pandemic. In fact, there was going to be a Hinata fashion episode, but it never made the cut.
Furthermore, as mentioned in the Official Complete Book, Hinata's mother was meant to appear in the fashion episode as well as the Christmas episode.
Cure Summer
An interview from Animage revealed that Manatsu's theme color was always meant to be rainbow with white from the start because the Producer wanted Manatsu to stand out even amongst all the Pretty Cure.
In the Animage January 2022 issue, it was revealed that Manatsu's name was originally going to be Natsu, then Natsuki, followed by Natsumi before the staff finally settled on Manatsu.
Nakatani Yukiko revealed that Manatsu was not only designed with her origin in mind, but also as if she was a protagonist for a boy's series.
Cure Coral
An interview from Animage revealed that Sango's personality is a bit toned down compared to the other girls, but she is also the closest to the audience because she is the normal one. She has a role in being an audience surrogate, but her personal charm points will also be highlighted throughout the show.
In the Animage January 2022 issue, it was revealed that the kanji for "Suzu" in Sango's surname was originally going to be 鈴, as it looked cute and Sango as a character loves cute things. However, the staff changed it to 涼 because they wanted to match the show's ocean theme and give her a name with a water radical.
The same 2022 issue also revealed that Sango was written to be a city girl that Manatsu can look up to, which contributes to her fashionable personality.
Nakatani Yukiko also admitted that she gave Coral many hearts because she's the "leader of cute". She also looked at fashion magazines for teenagers to get inspiration for Sango's civilian design.
Cure Papaya
In the Animage January 2022 issue, it was revealed that Minori's surname "Ichinose" was chosen due to it sounding girly.
More importantly, when the staff were selecting the Japanese pronunciation of Papaya between パパイヤ or パパイ���, they chose the latter option as the former sounded like "Papa iya!" which means "I hate my father!" in Japanese.
This issue also revealed that her signature eye beam attack was not created until after the production of the Tropical-Rouge! short movie.
The staff had initially considered keeping her glasses even when she transformed into Papaya, before eventually abandoning the idea.
Cure Flamingo
An interview from Animage revealed that Asuka's Cure name was going to be either Cure Phoenix or Cure Volcano.
Cure La Mer
An interview from Animage revealed that in the first draft of the story, Laura had a more typical role and was a gentle girl to tone down Manatsu's outlandishness. But Tsuchida Yutaka was concerned that she was going to get completely overshadowed by the other girls, so they changed her into a character with a strong personality and with a big presence in the story.
In the Animage January 2022 issue, it was revealed that "La Mer" was Laura's Cure name before it also became her surname, but it was added because trying to be "Laura Hyginus" would've been difficult to pronounce once she started attending school.
The same issue also revealed that La Mer's nails were originally going to be multi-colored, but the staff eventually scrapped the idea as the end result did not satisfy them.
It was also revealed that Laura's role as the queen candidate is intentional. Tsuchida Yutaka believed the idea of becoming a queen by succession is a similar message to becoming a princess by falling in love with a prince, as it relies too much on someone else.
Cure Precious
In Oops! All PreCure Animage interview, Cure Precious' name comes from Yui's own appreciation for food.
During the Delicious Party Kanshasai, Hishikawa Hana (Yui’s VA) said that Yui's ideal romantic partner is somebody that loves cooking and making food together with her.
Cure Spicy
In the Oops! All PreCure Animage interview, Cure Spicy was chosen as Kokone's alter ego name as it sounded cool.
In the same interview, Kokone's first name was originally going to be either Tsutsumi or Hasami to match her sandwich theme.
Yufu Kyouko (character designer) also remarked in the interview that Cure Spicy's circular braid is meant to resemble a donut.
During the Delicious Party Kanshasai, Shimizu Risa (Kokone’s VA) said that Kokone's ideal romantic partner for a date is somebody she can have a calm conversation and exchange books with. Pam-Pam's voice actor, Hioka Natsumi also pretended to be Kokone's date in the same scenario.
Cure Yum-Yum
In the Oops! All PreCure Animage interview, Cure Yum-Yum was originally going to be named "Cure Yummy", but was changed to make her sound cuter. Mem-Mem was chosen to be her partner to match both her Chinese motif and the food "ramen".
In the same interview, Yufu Kyouko originally drew Cure Yum-Yum wearing a Chinese hat in her first draft design.
During the Delicious Party Kanshasai, Iguchi Yuka (Ran’s VA) said that Ran's ideal romantic partner is someone she can go on adventures with.
Cure Finale
As stated in the Oops! All PreCure Animage interview, Cure Finale was originally going to be called "Cure Gorgeous" but her name was changed to match her dessert motif.
Yufu Kyouko also stated in the same interview that she wanted Finale to look like a fighting princess.
During the Kanshasai, Kayano Ai (Amane’s VA) said that Amane's ideal romantic partner is someone she can train martial arts with and watch sunsets afterwards.
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Notes- Dating Miyuki & Kuramochi
Return to File
Recovery date: September 16th, 2024
Description: Can I request dating miyuki and Kuramochi headcanons?
Notes: Recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. I can't wait for the next season, i miss my boys.
Back to directory
Miyuki Kazuya
Be patient with him
For a lot of reasons, the first being baseball comes first
Which means school comes first cause he has to keep his grades up
Do not let him put you above his well being, because he will
The second reason is, it’s Miyuki, he’s bad at feelings
The only reason he asked you out was because Kuramochi threatened to tell you
So he tries to play it cool, asks you to study with him
If the other second years could have recorded it they would have
I say second year, because you kind of end up playing mediator during the Captain fiasco
It’s actually your first fight as a couple
Anyways, your dates are always practical; having lunch together at school, studying together when you can
He may not say it often, but he appreciates you
There aren’t any expectations with you, if he falls asleep during your study date you won’t say anything
Not sure if the Seidou dorms have a kitchen he can use, but if it does he cooks for you
That’s his main way of expressing his gratitude and love
Kuramochi Yoichi
Your friendship becomes so comfortable everyone just assumes you’re dating
So of course Miyuki makes a joke and spills the beans
Kuramochi is so caught up in trying to kill his friend that you don’t end up talking about it until lunch the next day
Because he barely beat the bell, sliding into his seat beside you
His leg was bouncing all morning, and he kept looking over at you
You slipped him a note telling him to relax, and he took that as a good sign
This is probably start of second year
Like Miyuki, baseball comes first
He feels bad, but you’re understanding and point out that everyone thought you were dating before
So it wasn’t likely much would change
Brags about having a partner to Sawamura
He’s the only one it will get a reactions out of
Confides in you about Ryou’s injury, he just needs you to listen
Offers to beat people up for you, he won’t actually, but it becomes a running joke
Someone didn’t return a pencil? He can put them in a choke hold
Pretty good at expressing his gratitude and love for you, even though it flusters him
#researcher s's notes#ace of the diamond#daiya no ace#ace of the diamond x reader#daiya no ace x reader#miyuki kazuya#miyuki kazuya x reader#miyuki x reader#kuramochi youichi#kuramochi youichi x reader#kuramochi x reader#x reader#gender neutral reader#fluff#headcanons#DNA headcanons
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Sigh. Once again random posting about an anime that I binged on my day off but. I just want to talk about it!!! This is about Kaguya-sama Love is War. Anyways.
Aside from how much the humor of this show really got to me when the slapstick-esque humor typical in anime isn’t usually my favorite, and how the romance itself is so!! Sweet!! Like it’s obvious from the beginning that they’re perfect for each other just by the fact that they’re playing these mind games with each other knowing the other is also playing, and it’s so much fun watching these two characters have insane mental chess games about following each other on social media and misunderstand each other while also being the only other person that really gets each other. The drama and tension doesn’t come from wondering if one will succeed in winning the others heart bc from the beginning you know they’re already head over heels for each other. The drama all comes from dramatic irony and the narrator himself is in one the joke with the audience and it’s GREAT. But I just want to talk about two specific really small moments I really loved.
The first one is when our lady lead, Kaguya, paints her nails. She worries all day about it-will he like them? Does it go against her identity to cave to girly things just for this stupid boy? She wants him specifically to notice that she painted her nails. It’s such a big deal to her. And of course, because we are privy to both of their internal monologues we know that he notices right away and spends the whole time she’s wishing he’d say something, wondering if it would make him a creep to say something, calculating the likelihood she’d accept a compliment, wondering if it’s a big deal. And at the end of the day he says nothing and she’s walking home staring at her hands disappointed, just a tiny heart break. But then he rides up next to her on his bike and points at her and yells. “Your Nails!”. He doesn’t even compliment them. He rides off before he can get the whole compliment out. But it shows he noticed, and then she’s floating around on cloud nine. It’s so cute and it just feels so…true. Like that’s what it’s like to have a crush for the first time-all this fragile hope, all this heavy anxiety. I love what it says for these specific characters! Like he’s so attentive to her and puts so much work into pretending that he’s not but it becomes so important that he lets her know that he thinks she’s pretty in all these little changeable ways and it’s pretty much the first time in the series that either one of them attempts to be earnest in their interactions instead of straight up doing psychological warfare.
The second little moment I really like is when Miyuki, our fella, has stepped down from being the student class president and as a result has gotten enough rest for multiple nights for the first time in the show, and it changes him. Like physically, he’s suddenly much more youthful looking and approachable and handsome. Everyone is into the well rested former president- except Kaguya. She LOVED his tired eyes, his exhausted and kind of mean glare. He gets all this confidence from being more handsome now and attempts to flirt and it’s completely ineffective. She was so attracted to his ‘death glare’ partly bc of the actual appearance, but also bc it represented his dedication and his work ethic. And then she has this spiral bc she’s not as attracted to him (most people who were young girls attracted to boys might recognize this exact spiral in their history if the object of their affections ever got a haircut) and she wonders if this means she doesn’t actually love him the way she thought. Luckily it’s resolved pretty quickly, but what I loved about this was that her favorite thing about the way he looked was a physical aspect that manifested bc of something intrinsic to who he is as a person, and it was a thing a lot of people actively thought made him look worse. I might be biased bc I also like tired looking eyes on a person (and kind of sport them as well-I am writing this at 2am). But this just seemed so sweet and loving and once again indicates just how much they pay attention to each other.
I guess what I love about this show is that it’s the slowest burn to ever slow burn but they use all that space to explore the hundred little ways to notice and care for another. Love is stored in the attention to detail!! I love how they agonize over every little thing!! I love how much courage it takes them to get over that, I love the hypervigilance of self. I can’t wait to see where it goes next, now that I’ve gotten to the end of season 3 and OOF what an end!!!!
Also it’s just very funny but maybe we can discuss using comedy as a bait and switch for earnestness in some other post. ❤️
#kaguya sama: love is war#yap yap yap#text post#sigh I will never escape from red blue pairings#they are just always perfect to me#anime#love is war#kaguya shinomiya#miyuki shirogane#I am once again seriously discussing anime#long post
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