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Chapter Text

The pitch landed in Miyuki’s mitt with a loud snap. The batter swung through, the umpire’s hand cut the air, and then —The announcer’s voice roared like thunder across Koshien.

[STRIKEOUT SWINGING–!! ACE SAWAMURA EIJUN CLOSES CLEANLY, AND THE GAME IS NOW SET—!!! IT’S BEEN 8 YEARS SINCE THEIR RETURN TO THE KOSHEIN STADIUM AND FINALLY AFTER THE INTENSE BATTLE THAT LASTED 3 HOURS–!!! SEIDOU HIGH IS THE CHAMPION OF THE 91st SUMMER KOSHEIN!!]

The sound exploded through Koshein Stadium. Tens of thousands roared, banners shook, voices layered into a strong that rattled the very air. The August sun blazed down mercilessly, the kind of heat that made the turd shimmer and burn my skin. My lungs were heavy, the uniform clinging uncomfortably, the sticky salt of sweat stinging my eyes, the first shimmered as the air felt heavy to crush. I felt my hand was still in the follow-through when it hit me: it was over. We finally won.

A breeze.

Not from the sky, not from the air–
But from him.

“MIYUKI KAZUYA–!”

Before I could blink, he caught me. Lifting me clean off the ground in one motion. His chest slammed into mine, strong arms holding me steady. For one dizzy moment, my body was weightless as though all the exhaustion, all the strain of those three hours, had been erased. The unbreakable heat evaporated, replaced by an incredible rush, a phantom breeze that only he could bring.

The crowd blurred. The heat disappeared. My world shrank down to the amber eyes that caught mine, glowing, alive with triumph.

He was smiling. Really smiling, the kind where his whole face lit up, where the sharp edges of his usually smirk melted into pure joy. I had seen him smile countless times before, but this one–this one pierced right through me. My heart fluttered, stuttering life, it had forgotten how to beat. I told myself it was adrenaline, the rush of victory, but deep down I knew. It was him. It had always been him.

“Miyuki-senpai…” I breathed, the sound lost to the hurricane of cheers, but my chest screamed it all the same.

“WE DID IT!” Kuramochi’s yell cracked as he tackled us from the side, fists pumping the air. His cap flew sky-high, his grin split wide with tears shining in his eyes.

“Finally… finally we’re here!” Kawakami’s voice shook, a rough laugh tearing from him as he shoved into our huddle, clapping my back so hard it stung.

Maezono threw his helmet into the air and caught it again, roaring, “SEIDOU IS NUMBER ONE!!!” His massive arm looped around me, nearly pulling Miyuki and me off balance, but I couldn’t let go of Miyuki’s gaze.

Haruichi stumbled in, his gloves dropped to the ground as he pressed into us with a trembling hand. “Niisan… we won… we really won..” His voice cracked into sobs, and I felt his tears dampen my shoulder.

Kanemaru punched the air, voice breaking. “We finally shut up every damn critic! Seidou’s on top!”

Even Furuya… Furuya’s voice shook as he pressed into the pile, his usual blank face breaking into a wide, tear-streaked grin. “We’re the champions,” he said, his voice hoarse but proud.

The mound was chaos. Helmet flew, gloves smacked against shoulders, laughter and sobs twisted into one. We collapsed together, shouting until our throats bled, clutching one another as if afraid this moment might disappear.

And in the middle of it all, my world was still just him.

Miyuki laughed, really laughed, his whole body shaking with it. His arm stayed locked around me, grounding me in the sea of chaos. His breath brushed against my ear as he bent slightly closer, his voice low, warm, like it was meant only for me.

“We did it, Sawamura. You held it till the end.”

My chest clenched. Please don’t say my name like that, don’t look at me like that, don’t make me want this more than anything. The stadium, the noise, my teammates–all blurred. It was only Miyuki. His smile. His eyes. His warmth.

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

The anthem rose, proud and triumphant, as we lined up for the award ceremony. Sweat dripped down my back, my arm arched faintly under the sleeve, but I didn’t flinch. Not when I could hear Miyuki’s steady breathing beside me, not even when I could see the firm set of his shoulders as he accepted the championship trophy.

Flashbulbs exploded across the field. My teammates sang with everything in them, voices raw with pride. I sang too, but the sound wavered in my throat. Because all I could hear was him. As the anthem swelled, Miyuki leaned the slightest bit closer. His voice didn’t break the rhythm of the song, didn’t carry for anyone else to hear. But I caught it, sharp and soft all at once:

“As I said… we’ve become the greater partner of all time.”

The words slid into me like the final nail, driving deep into the cracks of my chest.

Partner.

It should’ve been enough. It had always been enough. That was the world I’d chased since I came to Seidou. To be his partner, his Ace.

But hearing it now, after his smile, his laugh, his arms lifting me, his eyes burning into mine. It twisted into something else. My chest fluttered, heavy and breathless—joy, admiration, pride. But what is this feeling growing into me? Blooming wild and reckless in the heat of August, in the chaos of victory, in the shadow of the time running out. I clenched my fists, staring forward as the anthem thundered. Because even I didn’t know what this was. I finally realised: I didn’t just want to be his battery partner forever.

And–

[I only have 2 months left with Miyuki Kazuya–]

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

After the award ceremony, the sea of flashing lights, microphones, and camera shutters hit us the moment we stepped off the field. Reporters swarmed from all directions, their voices overlapping in an almost dizzying cacophony. I could feel the heat of the light on my skin, the sweat from exertion mingling with the tension in my shoulders. The light inflammation that had been nagging me since the first round wasn’t painful enough to stop me, but it was a constant reminder that I wasn’t invincible. Kawakami-senpai’s steady presence during those earlier games, helping me adjust my pitching form and encouraging me when every throw felt heavier than the last, flashed in my mind. Without him, I wonder if I could’ve made it this far.

“Come on, move forward! Let them handle it!” Coach Kataoka's voice cut through the chaos as he pushed gently against my back. The manager flanked us on the other side, corralling the reporter as best they could. I barely noticed as interviews started–voices asking the same rehearsed questions over and over, camera flashing in my eyes–but I was struck by the sheer attention we were receiving. Seidou was never expected to take the 91st Summer Koshien this year. There were stronger teams, more hyped pitchers, and yet… we had done it.

Finally, we were guided out of the press throng and into the open space beyond the stadium. My chest tightened as I saw them–our families. Parents, siblings and grandparents rushed toward us, waving, cheering, and smiling. My heart thudded harder as my eyes caught familiar faces from my past. Old teammates from Akagi Junior High ran toward me, faces brought with joy, laughter echoing through the open air. Wakana was laughing, smiling, clapping as though she could carry all the happiness in the world in her grin. Somehow, in the midst of all the noise and celebration, her presence grounded me.

“Eijun, you finally did it!” She said, hugging me tightly. Her warmth and joy pierced straight through the exhaustion and tension, making me choke back a laugh–and tears.

“YEA! I FINALLY DID!” I was too excited and hugged her back. Unexpectedly, I could feel the stare from everyone around as we hugged each other. As I stepped back and wiped my face, trying to regain composure, my gaze drifted. Miyuki was there, standing slightly apart, speaking quietly with someone. His posture was stiff, formal even, yet there was a softness in his voice that only I could recognise. I didn’t expect. Miyuki’s family was usually a closed book; he didn’t share much with anyone except Kuromachi.

I paused, curious. What could they be talking about?

“Congratulations, Miyuki,” his father said awkwardly, holding a small bouquet. His voice was stiff, almost rehearsed, but the pride in his eyes was undeniable. “ You… did well. All your hard work… it shows.”
Miyuki accepted the flower with a small, formal bow. “Thank you. I… I appreciate it. You came all the way to watch.”

There was a brief silence, the kind that felt heavy but safe at the same time.

“I… wanted to be here,” his father said slowly. “It’s… important. I know I don’t always… say it. But this–seeing you…winning–it matters.”

Miyuki’s lips twitch into a faint smile, something rare and private. “I know. I… appreciate you coming.”

Then, almost immediately, the conversation took a turn. Words about his future, about decisions beyond high school, surfaced. Miyuki’s father wanted to understand his plans. To offer guidance, but the dialogue quickly heated up. Miyuki, maintaining his calm composure, shut it down before it spiralled, deflecting the tension with measured words. I watched them, the brief flickers of emotion in Miyuki’s usually unreadable expression tugging at something inside me. I thought about my father—grounded, pragmatic, always a steady presence. I had never had to measure words like this with him. As I observed Miyuki talking to his father, I recalled the conversation I overheard between him and Furuya. The pain started to pound my chest as a sense of sadness moved over.

The team began to head toward the bus. Families lingered, exchanging congratulations and farewells. Miyuki sat beside me. For a moment, the noise and flashing lights faded, replaced by the sound of traffic and the movement of the bus. Due to exhaustion, I quietly fell asleep beside him; the warmth of his shoulder brought me calmness after our victory. As I fell asleep, I could feel a touch on my face and the warmth of Miyuki's hair leaning closer to mine.

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

“KAMPAI !”

The sound of glasses clinking together, bottles of soda fizzing over, and a plate of food rattling under the weight of everyone’s excitement. Music thumped from someone’s speaker, voices layered over each other in laughter and shouts. The air itself felt charged, the room buzzing with pride as Seidou finally conquered Koshien. Sitting next to Haruichi, I should’ve been laughing and yelling like my usual self. Instead, my smile felt tight, my throat dry, and my head ached as I couldn’t explain why.

“Hey, Eijun.” Haruichi softly ruffled my hair, his voice laced with worry. “You ok? You don’t seem yourself today.” I forced a grin, waving him off. “I’m fine! Just… tired, y’know? Three hours on the mound, even I have limits.” He didn’t look convinced, but Kuromacchi came barreling in, laughing loud enough to drown us both. “Oi, don’t baby him, Harui! This idiot’s just soaking in the glory, aren’t ya, Sawamura?” He shoved a soad into my hand before throwing an arm around me. “Our Ace deserves it!”

The word “Ace” should’ve filled me with pride. It usually did. But tonight, it sat heavy in my stomach, tangled with something I didn’t know how to name.

I tap on my shoulder, I blink as I turn around, and it’s Chris-sepnai. “MASTER!” I nearly dropped my soda in my rush to stand, bowing so hard my head almost smacked the table. “You came!”

“I told you, Sawamura, stop calling me master.” He smiled, calm and steady, as always. “Of course. I couldn’t miss seeing Seidou finally winning the Koshien.” His hand landed gently again on my shoulder. “That last pitch of yours… it was everything you’ve worked for. I’m proud of you.

My chest squeezed, the words hitting me harder than I expected. “THANK YOU, MASTER!” But his gaze lingered, too sharp, to knowing. “Though… You don’t look like someone who just won Koshien.” I stiffened, fumbling for an excuse. “Ah–it’s nothing! Really! I’m just tired, you know.” My laugh rang too loud, too fake. Chris’s eyes softened, but he didn’t press. “Don’t you think everything alone, Sawamura. That’s not what a battery is for.”

Battery. The word stabbed deeper than I wanted it to. I couldn’t help it. My eyes drifted across the room, unconsciously looking at Miyuki laughing with the other third years and Furuya. His grin is mischievous, probably making some cruel joke again. But my chest twisted as I remembered the look on his face when he spoke with his dad earlier. That quiet, careful composure. That faint smile. That wall I could never seem to break through. But somehow Furuya did.

I thought about the bouquet, about the stiff, halting way his father spoke, about Miyuki’s cautious words in return. And then the doubt hit me again, sharply now: maybe Miyuki didn’t trust me the way I thought. Maybe his words–” together”, “partner,” “Ace” – were just words to motivate me to win the Koshien. What if I was reading too much into his smile, his every touch, every laugh?

“Oi, Sawamura!” Kuromochi's voice snapped me back as he raised his glass. “Stop brooding in the corner! Toast with us!”

“Y–yeah!” I forced another grin, raising my soda high. “To Seidou!”

The room erupted in cheers again, drowning out all the thoughts in my head. Glasses clinked, music blessed, and Kuromochi howled a victory chant so off-key it made half the room groan. But no amount of noise could drown out the thought echoing in my head, louder than any celebration:

Does Miyuki trust me the same way I trust him? Why am I so annoyed? What even is this?

And for the first time that night, the victory tasted bittersweet.

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

After the party, I lingered on the sidewalk of the grass field, nursing the dull ache in my arm. It wasn’t bad–just the light inflammation started to hurt since the tournament. I’d hidden it, pushed through, because I couldn’t afford to stop. Not when Miyuki was watching.

“Hey.”

I jumped as Miyuki dropped beside me; his cunning face was visible in the moonlight. He leaned back casually, like we weren’t sitting on the biggest win of our lives.

“You spacing out? I've noticed that things have been different since we left Koshein Stadium. This is not like you.”

I wanted to snap back, to something stupid, to deflect like always. But instead, the words slipped out before I could stop them.

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

His brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“About…the future. About going pro.” My throat tightened. “You asked Furuya, but not me.”

For a moment, silence. Then, a soft chuckle. “So you were listening back then.”

Heat rushed to my face.” Th–that’s not–!” I choked on my own words as a counterattack to Miyuki's sarcasm became blank in my mind.

“What’s that look on your face?” Miyuki's concern. What kind of look do I have on my face right now? The end of my lips twitches as I can feel the furrow of my eyebrow deepen. The gap between my eyes tightened as the world became smaller somehow. Throb, the sound of my chest, the tightness of everything, like I'm being squeezed down like a lemonade.

“So do you trust Furuya more than me?” A quiver runs through my body, my lips twitch rapidly, and I can’t look straight into Miyuki's eyes. A long silence hung between us as the air grew dense, as if I could cut through it. I don’t know what kind of face Miyuki is making. Sad? Angry? Confuse?

“I just assume you weren’t thinking about the future and going pro after all.” He let out a long sigh, and I could hear his footsteps slowly moving in front of me. “So what about now, Sawamura? Finally became smarter? What is your plan?”

Endless. Every possibility became endless. “It’s endless, isn't it, Miyuki-senpai?” I mumble, knowing for sure that there are even greater pitchers outside of Koshein, in a level I can’t even imagine. The burning fire caught my attention as I glanced at Miyuki.

“I want to be the greatest of all time. I want to be an even greater version of myself.” I could slowly see the creep of a grin on Miyuki's face. “That’s more like you, Sawamura. I will be waiting for you, so catch up.”

“So Miyuki Kazuya! CAN YOU CATCH FOR ME–” The words ripped out of me before I could think. My body moves on its own, and without realising it, I throw myself at him. My arm wrapped tight around his torso, my forehead pressed against his chest, and I could feel his steady heartbeat under the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Oi–!” His breath caught in surprise, his body stiffening. “Sawamura, you idiot–!” But I didn’t let go. Couldn’t. My arms clung tighter, the knot in my chest finally loosening as the words tumbled out. “Miyuki Kazuya, I want to throw with everything I’ve got, for you, with you! Always!” My voice cracked, too loud for the quiet night. “So I will catch up to you, MIYUKI KAZUYA!”

Then– “...Hah. You’re unreliable.” His voice was low, exasperated, but it wavered, the edge softening into something else. A hand pressed firmly against the back of my head. He is not pushing me away, just holding me there. My chest clenched at the warmth of it.

“You’re heavy, you know that?” he muttered, though I could hear the faintest hint of laughter in his tone. “But… fine. I’ll be waiting for you. No matter how far I go. Just don’t make me wait too long, Sawamura.” Our eyes meet. The moonlight caught in his amber eyes, and for once, the sharpness there had melted into something gentler, the same look as he gave his dad. His grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, crooked and dazzling.

It hit me like a fastball to the chest. Why was my heart beating so loud? This kind of feeling couldn’t be shaken off, no matter how much I admired him. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My face burned where it brushed his chest. My heart hammered so fast it hurt. But the thought of Furuya pops up. Anyone who could claim a piece of Miyuki–I knew the truth. Right here, in his arm, hearing those words, feeling that laugh shake through him…

I wanted to be more than what Furuya is to him. More than being a teammate. More than just captain and ace. I wanted to be his.

🧢

Chapter Text

Rolling around on my bed, I can't sleep. My body aches, my arm throbs from the game, but my mind refuses to quiet down. Every time I close my eyes, the memory of that stupid, embarrassing moment with Miyuki replays—crashing into him on the grass, tumbling until his face appeared under the moonlight. His warmth. His voice. His smirk was one that I couldn't look away from.

I bury my face into the pillow, letting out a silent scream so I don't wake Kuramochi-senpai or Hori. But it's useless. All I can think about is him. I want to be near him, to know him, to—

"K-kiss him?!" I whisper-shout, slapping my cheeks. The thought spins in my head like a wild pitch. I've never thought about kissing anyone before. Does that make me weird? Gay? But… if it's Miyuki… I don't mind.

Unconsciously, my fingers brush my lips. I imagine the soft, glossy touch of his mouth. How would it taste?

"AGH!" I yelp as my embarrassment explodes.

"SAWAMURA, SHUT UP! IT'S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!" Kuramochi's voice erupts from across the room. I consciously flew all my "dirty" thoughts away instantly. 

"S-sorry!" I hiss, diving back into my futon. My heart won't calm down. When sleep finally drags me under, it's restless, tangled between confusion, embarrassment, and a strange, burning longing.

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

By the time I open my eyes again, my head still throbs. The clock reads 5:30 a.m. Great. I haven't slept a wink. Pulling myself up, I change into my tracksuit and stumble outside for a run, hoping the morning air will clear my head. But as my feet hit the dirt, my thoughts drift back to the beginning.

It was during my duel with Azuma Kiyokuni—the cleanup hitter—back when I first stepped onto Seidou's field. My chest burned with nerves, my pitches flew everywhere, and my control was a mess. Still, I wanted to prove myself, even if it meant throwing until my arm tore apart.

Then he stepped forward. Calm. Unreadable. A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
"I'll catch for him," Miyuki said, crouching behind the plate like he had already decided the outcome.

The moment our eyes meet, my stomach flips. His gaze is sharp, confident, almost amused—as if he can already see straight through me. For the first time, I feel small standing on the mound.

I wind up. The ball flies.

PANG!

The sound explodes across the field as it slams into Miyuki's mitt. My glove mashes, my arm stings, but Miyuki smirks, satisfied.

Then my eyes shift to Azuma. His stance is heavy, his presence enough to crush me. Panic tightens my chest. Instinct screams to pull back, to throw something safe, anything to keep him from hitting.

Miyuki's expression sharpens. He calls for time and strides straight toward me. His voice is calm, but merciless.

"Both the pitcher and the catcher come together as one to create a work of art. That's the best kind of pitching."

His eyes lock on mine, steady and unflinching.

"We're partners right now. Trust me."

Partners.

The word stuns me. Until then, I had only ever pitched alone, dragging my middle school team by myself. Nobody ever said it like that. Nobody ever stood beside me like that. But Miyuki doesn't dismiss me, doesn't laugh at my wild pitches. He understands me. 

I nod, heart pounding. The game shifts. His signs are sharp, confident, and I can't look away from his glove. I throw. Azuma swings—and misses. The sound of air being cut feels louder than any hit. My chest bursts with fire.

That was the first time. The first time, I wanted to pitch for someone else. 

The memory fades as I stop running, breathless. My chest heaves, sweat stings my eyes, but the words echo in my mind even now. He evoked a mix of emotions in me. And I'm an idiot for yearning for it more and more each day.

He's amazing. 

As I looked up at the sky, the sun had already risen. The wind carelessly moved my hair, and everything became silent at that moment.

I LIKE MIYUKI KAZUYA… 

[Since the very beginning, I have fallen for him without even noticing it.]

"So what am I going to do with this feeling?" 

Standing there for a while, I couldn't think of what to do. I could never tell him for sure. Let's just take a moment to let it sink in. I thought. However, I'm not sure how much I can hold on to it anymore. 

"I'm hungry…" 

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

"Eijun-kun, you didn't sleep well last night?" Haruicchi asks as he sets his plate next to me. 

"Ye, I was thinking a lot last night," I mumble between chewing, rubbing my eye. 

He tilts his head curiously. The cafeteria is starting to fill as more teammates pour in, trays clattering and voices rising. Furuya drops into the seat across from me, his face as blank as ever. 

"Your eyebags are showing," he says flatly. 

"THEY ARE?!" I shout, fumbling to cover my face with my hands. My heart sinks. Was it that obvious? 

"Ye, Eijun-kun, normally after a win like yesterday, you would be more refreshed in the morning. What were you thinking about yesterday?" Haruicchi asks as he chews calmly. 

Before I can answer, a voice cuts in from behind, smooth and teasing. "Ohhh, so that's what you were worried about last night. Thinking about me~"

I freeze. My shoulder locks up. Slowly, I turn, and of course, it's Miyuki. Smirk in place, tray balance casually like he's been waiting for the perfect chance to strike. He slides into the seat beside me, the air around him buzzing with that annoying confidence. 

"IN YOUR DREAM, MIYUKI KAZUYA!" I blurt, waving my hand wildly. But my eyes betray me, flicking down to his lips before I can stop myself—just a second. Just enough to send heat surging up my neck. 

"That senpai to you, Sawamura." As he began to eat next to me. "Wha–why are you sitting next to me, Miyuki-senpai?!" I squeak, my voice way too loud for this crowded cafeteria. Heads turn. My ears burn. Miyuki leans an elbow on the table, his chin in his palm, eyes locked onto me with infuriating amusement. "You're so jumpy today. Did you dream about me or something?" I choke on my rice, pounding my chest as Haruicchi quickly offers me water. 

"Look at that face. That's a yes," Miyuki adds, smirking wider. Kuramochi-senpai plops down across Miyuki, cackling, "Oi, Sawamura, you're way too easy." I want the ground to swallow me whole. And Miyuki isn't done. He leans closer, shoulder brushing mine, voice dropping just enough to make me sweat. "So? What is it about, Sa~wa~mura? Don't tell me it was something… weird." 

My mind flashes back to last night, to the thought of kissing him, and my entire body jolts. The words slip out before I can stop them– 

"Y-you're the one that–!" I slam my mouth shut, eyes wide. I couldn't finish the sentence. 

Miyuki blinks at me… and then laughs. "What was that? You're the one who what? Going to annoy me to death? Already doing a great job." He flicks my forehead again, grinning like he's won some game only he understands. Kuromochi howls with laughter, nearly choking on his food. "Pfft– Sawamura, what got into you recently? Last night you were screaming. What did Miyuki do in your dream?" 

"I-I-I WASN'T!" I yell, my face burning so hot I'm sure steam's coming out of my ears. Miyuki smirks, sipping his miso soup like nothing happened to him. "AND I WASN'T SCREAMING LAST NIGHT! YOU MADE IT SOUND WEIRD KURAMOCHI-SENPAI!" Now everything just got weird. I quickly finish my breakfast and run out of the dining hall, hearing a faint sound of my teammate's laughter follow me out. 

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

My face is still burning from running away from that awkward situation in the morning. The fresh air barely cools me down. I lean against the wall beside the vending machine, groaning. 

"Why can't I just act normal around him? What's wrong with me…?" As I'm beating myself up, a familiar voice comes from behind. 

"Gezz, you're even louder when you're sulking, Sawamura," 

I spin around. Miyuki stands there, hands in his pockets, glasses catching the morning sun. 

"Wh–what do you want?!" I squeak. 

He tilts his head, studying me. "Relax. I'd like to share something with you before the coaches' meeting. I'm going to nominate you for captain."

"...Hah?" My brain freezes. "Captain? Me?!"

"Who else?" Miyuki shrugs. "You never shut up, you keep everyone's spirits up, and somehow…despite being an idiot…people follow you. You were captain back in middle school, right? You know what it's like."

I blink rapidly. "THAT DOESN'T SOUND LIKE A COMPLIMENT MIYUKI KAZUYA!?"

My chest tightens—middle school. I remember standing in front of my teammates, loud and unpolished, desperate to pull everyone together. Even when we lost, they followed me because I never gave up.

He smirks softly. "Well, it's both, because you're Sawamura Eijun and that's exactly what this team needs."

I clench my fists, forcing my voice steady. "I… you should have said it earlier!! I WON'T LET YOU DOWN! MIYUKI KAZUYA!" 

He chuckles and turns away. "Good. Then prove me right."

Waving his hand as he walks upstairs. I still can't shake it. Slowly, as I realise everything is changing. And the reality of his absence is objective. 

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

[The coaches' meeting]

"I recommend Sawamura," Miyuki says with quiet confidence.

Kataoka studies him. "Not Kanemaru? Tojo? Haruichi?"

"They're reliable," Miyuki admits. "But Sawamura pulls everyone along with him. Even when he's reckless, his energy lifts the team. If you want Seidou to keep moving forward, it has to be him."

Ochiai adjusts his glasses. "That idiot's spirit is contagious."

Kataoka smiles faintly. "Very well. Let's see how he handles it."

Miyuki smirks. He can already see Sawamura leading the charge.

⚾️🧢⚾️🧢

The team gathers in Miyuki's room one last time. Laughter fills the air. Kuramochi recounts a ridiculous story from his previous practice while playing his video games, and Furuya pretends to listen as he slowly drifts away to sleep. At the same time, Haruichi is beating Kuramochi in video games. 

I sit cross-legged on the floor, sitting close to Miyuki while reading the latest Shojo manga release. My chest would tighten, heart racing as Miyuki's hands would brush up against my shoulder from now and then as he engages in conversation (argument) with Kuromachi on stupid stuff. 

As the night became late, people started going back to their rooms until the door clicked shut behind the last teammate. Silence stretches—just him and me. 

Miyuki leans casually against his desk, arms crossed, looking calm and unshaken, as if he has the whole world under control. "I have something to tell you," he says, voice steady.

I sit up, heart hammering. "Y-yeah? What is it?"

"I get offered a contract by the Giants. I've decided to accept it." His gaze is direct, unflinching, confident. "I want you to hear it from me."

The words hit me like a fastball. My chest tightens. "You… didn't tell Furuya yet?" I ask before I can stop myself.

He raises an eyebrow, almost amused. "I did. He already knows."

My stomach twists. Of course… even now, he trusts Furuya first. Jealousy burns. 

I swallow hard, fists clenching. "I… I see."

Miyuki tilts his head slightly, not softening, not apologising. "Don't read too much into it. He's easy to talk to about things like this. You… you're different. That's why I tell you directly." His eyes meet mine, steady and assured, and there's no doubt in his confidence—only me, struggling with my own emotions.

My chest tightens further. His composure only highlights my own turmoil. Even when he talks to me, he seems untouchable, like there is a wall slowly building up against him. And here I am, twisting inside, feeling… second best.

My feeling rosen up and my expression deepen knowing surely I can't controll it.

I need to go.

I rose up from the floor. Forcing a smile facing Miyuki. 

"Thank you for telling me about that. I appreciate it. Oh! It's getting late now. I will return back to my room. Make sure to pack up everything Miyuki-sepai."

Slowly I walk toward the door. Just before I turn the door nobs, he yell, "Sawamura." As I glances back at him, the changes in his amber eyes holding something fleeting, almost unreadable—a softness? A hint? My heart jumps, and I freeze. But the moment vanishes as quickly as it comes.

"Whatever happens next year, keep leading this team well. Don't let anyone—or anything—slow you down."

I nod in confidence and bark at him. "YEAH! OF COURSE YOU DON'T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THAT!"

The door clicks shut, leaving me slumped against the hall way intersection on the stair, heart pounding. Part of me is proud he tells me directly, but part of me seethes—Furuya. Even now, I feel like I'm chasing second place.

And in the mix of pride, jealousy, longing… and that glance… I realise: I'm not going to give up. I will tell him during graduation! 

A silent promise I make to myself, knowing fully well that Miyuki will reject me.  

🧢

 Miyuki POV's: EXTRA 

The door clicks shut behind Sawamura, leaving Miyuki alone in the quiet room. He leans against the desk, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to act all nonchalant, but his chest feels funny, tight in a way he doesn't quite get.

"Ugh… he's cute when he pouts or thinks too hard," Miyuki mutters to himself, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. He can't help but replay every expression Sawamura made with passion and fire in his enormous eyes, the panicked yelling, the way he froze when Furuya was mentioned. Wait… why has his face recently changed whenever Furuya's name comes up? 

Miyuki shakes his head, letting out a quiet laugh, a little embarrassed. "He's… so easy to read. Too easy."

The room feels emptier now, and for some reason, Miyuki's mind keeps drifting back to Sawamura's grin, the heat in his eyes, the way he throws himself into everything. He tilts his head, heart thudding a little too fast. "I'm going to miss him… more than I thought I would."

For the first time, he notices the warmth in his chest is not just from baseball-it's something else. Confusing yet warm. But he won't admit it… not fully.