Baseball idiots

Chris is crouched down, retrieving the crayons Akiko or Ren or perhaps Shino dropped and then forgot about them. The red one is stuck under his desk, and Chris is on his four, butt up into the air trying to reach for the damned thing, when he hears an awkward cough at his back.

He gets up so quickly that he rams his shoulder against the wood with such force it nearly pops out place. He hisses in pain and slight mortification, and looks the smile in Miyuki’s lips go away. 

Miyuki is immediately beside him, hands hovering over his hurt shoulder but not touching it at all. That’s all very Miyuki-ish: always there, except not. 

Or perhaps it is just Chris’ stupid crush exploding in his damn face.

“Are you alright?” Miyuki says and he sounds so ridiculously worried that Chris chokes down a chuckle. Instead, he smiles softly and replies, “Hello.”

Miyuki must realize then his lack of proper greeting and smiles back. “Um, hi,” he says and then, sheepishly adds, “Sorry about that.”

Chris stands up, rotating his shoulder gingerly. “It’s okay. You startled me.” Well, at least he had retrieved the damned crayon. Settling it in the glass jar along the others, he demands, “How did you find me?”

It elicits a small wince from Miyuki, and Chris cannot help but notice how the tips of his ears redden. “Er, I asked Kuramochi?”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I didn’t know if you’d approve it.”

Chris arcs an eyebrow in puzzlement. “Why I would not?”

“Dunno.” Miyuki brushes his hair away of his forehead with a small grimace. “You’ve always been so private about your life.”

“Not really” Chris points out with a small, teasing smile. “Sometimes I even chat with my neighbors.”

“Ah,” Miyuki utters. “That is, um... great?”

Chris chuckles and starts grouping the class drawings scattered over his table. “It’s a joke,” he says, then sighs in defeat at the lack of feedback. “One admirably bad, though.” 

“Oh. Right.” Chris looks over his shoulder to see Miyuki staring at everywhere but him. He is fingering a loose thread on the right sleeve of his sports jacket when he says, somewhat rushed, “I think I made a mistake. I’m sorry. I probably should go.”

“What? No!” It gets past his mouth before his brain can register it, just like the unconscious grab he makes for Miyuki’s retreating arm. Perhaps he uses more strength than necessary because Miyuki’s eyes widen at the sudden contact and Chris opens his mouth to apologize and – 

“Oi, Chris!”

The voice startles them so much that Miyuki stumbles back and Chris instinctively pulls him against him. 

The woman at the door must see some of their reaction because she clears her throat, nervously before pointing at her back with her thumb and say, “Er, the others and me are getting some drinks at that pub down the street.” She pauses, her gaze traveling from Miyuki to Chris to the grip he has on Miyuki’s arm as she adds, “But, um, I guess you have plans already so --”

“Perhaps next time,” Chris cuts her with a smile. “Thank you, Mai.”

Mai nods, clears her throat again. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Next time the—Wait a moment. Are you Miyuki Kazuya,The Catcher?”

Oh, shit.

There’s a polite smile, plastered in Miyuki’s face, bellying his discomfort. He pulls away from Chris and waves his hand to Mai. “Hi.”

The woman bows down with a sharpness that has Chris blinking in amazement. “Chigusa Mai. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Miyuki’s smile widens and he dares a quick glance at Chris. “Ah, The pleasure is mine.”

With an excited giggle, Mai takes Miyuki’s hands on hers and Chris sees the back of Miyuki’s shoulders tense at the contact.

“Oh, God. I must to confess that I’m a Swallows fan,” Mai gushes and Chris blinks, mildly surprised because he never thought the woman were into baseball.

“But the talent you have!” she continues. “We are so thankful you got recruited for last year games. And you’re in the cover of Number this week! I read your interview just this morning. You really did well abandoning your family busin--”

And now would be as a good moment as any other of Chris to step in.

“Ah, Mai?” he says with the same voice he uses with the kids parents. “Miyuki and I are in a hurry and I’m sure the others are wondering where you are.”

She nods, reluctantly releasing Miyuki’s hands. “Yeah, you are right.” She turns to the door then turns back at them again. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Miyuki’s chuckle comes out slightly strained. “Yeah, sure.”

Mai nods again and is her way out the classroom when, suddenly inspired, she whirls around. “How long are you staying here, Miyuki-san?”

Suddenly, Chris feels rather tempted to abandon any attempt of civility and pitch the jar of crayons to the woman’s face. 

He is mentally listing cons of doing it when Miyuki looks up at him and says, “A couple of days or three, maybe.”

Chris forces out a firm nod as Mai claps enthusiastically. “Would you sign me a ball? Or a mitt! Yeah, a mitt is much better.”

If the petition bothers Miyuki his face never shows it. He smiles again and says, “I’d be delighted.”

“Great!”

She scurries away after that, letting a haven of awkward quietness on her wake. Chris stands where he is, arm brushing against Miyuki’s with every breath. He doesn’t know very well what to say. 

“Er,” he utters at the same time Miyuki mumbles, “So...”

Then Chris remembers Mai’s old enthusiasm when he first came to the school and nudges Miyuki’s shoulder.

“I cannot believe you stole her away from me,” he grumbles, mockingly and waits for Miyuki look at him, eyes shining with mirth. “Traitor.”

“You cannot compete with my charming ways, commoner.”

Chris has to laugh at the smugness in Miyuki’s voice. He, then, leans forward until he’s inches apart from Miyuki’s mouth, small puffs of warm air crashing against his lips.

“Is this where I kiss you, Monsieur Grand Player?” Chris asks.

“Perhaps,” Miyuki replies in a conspiratorial whisper. “But only if you plan to not get out from this classroom ever again.”

“Dunno.” Chris muses aloud. “I always wanted to do it over this desk.”

Still half-mockingly, Miyuki scrunches his nose in disgust. “Gross.”

Chris laughs.

----

Not only in this week chapter but during the last few months I’ve noticed how much sharpness his face has lost. And not in a bad way. His smiles are less forced, less strained. The way he dealt with the Okumura/Sawamura fallout was, to be honest, surprising for someone whose supposedly social skills are non-existent. I feel like Terajima-sensei has been trying to show us how much Miyuki has learnt from the Nabe Issue, how far he has come as a captain,-- and sadly, how close we are to the end. Because it is what this chapter feels like to me: The beginning of the end. I don’t know if Terajima-sensei plans to continue the manga once the third years leave the team, but hell just to think about it brings tears to my eyes. 

Miyuki’s smile this chapter (You know what smile) is amazing. It’s nostalgic and determined and just a tinny bit bitter because it is only three months more and then it will be over for him and he loves playing for Seidou and loves catching for his pitchers and they have go to Koushien again for Tetsu and Chris-sempai and the old third years but also for themselves because they deserve it and they are going so to win this and-- 

And then what. I bet a part of him is excited to know what is expecting him behind Seidou’s fences: college, going pro, new team, new pitchers. But the other, bigger part of him is like ‘Nope. Not going anywhere. Staying here forever.’

He has been showing us small signs of this tiny grieving process of his for a time now. Like if he is trying to aclimate to ‘hey I have to leave this team, my team and I’m okay with it except I’m not haha.’

It is why this chapter smile feels so real, so close to home because he is alone and worried about his pitchers and suddenly he realizes he is not going to have to worry for much more time now.

Kuramochi breaking the moment is just as perfect as the rest of chapter. Because is what Kuramochi do: Kick Miyuki out of his bubble. And I love him for it. And Miyuki loves him for it, too. Look at that last fond, knowing smile if you don’t believe me.