#kisetsu

A thought danced across his mind which pulled a laugh from his lips. Perhaps it was an odd thing to do, considering he was currently standing at-bat with his gloved hands wrapped sturdily around the bat. He had already nodded towards his coach, their plan firmly at the forefront of his mind. But even as he adjusted his grip, shifting his fingers a hair's breadth down the bat, he still felt a bubbling in his throat as the chuckle threatened to come out once again. The rival catcher had already given him an odd look, but he didn't deign to answer, rather adjusting his stance one last time before nodding at the umpire. 

The catcher signalled his pitcher and received a dutiful nod in response. Even as the rest of Kazuya’s body tensed in preparation of the pitch, he kept his shoulders and arms relaxed. His eyes tracked the ball's trajectory, eyeing the pitcher's release for a fraction of a moment before swinging his arms to slam the bat against the ball. The force of his swing sent it far, towards the backboard. A moment's pause as the spectators, his team, the opposition and even the commentators held their breath to see if the outfielder would make it to the ball fast enough. 

The ball slammed into the wall, a loud thud reverberating across the field. Noise flooded back into the stadium rapidly, fans jumping up from their seats to scream in unison with his team. As he took his lap around the bases, a fist raised towards the sky, he let the laugh unfurl and echo into the field. There was a part of him that wanted to shout and exclaim his joy, perhaps due to the influence of a certain loudmouth southpaw.

After all, they were another step closer to the Japan Series. Another step towards bringing them back to the top.

But instead, he allowed his breathing to stabilize as he walked into the bullpen, already removing his helmet and gloves to pass to one of his teammates. He accepted the quiet congratulations of his coach with a characteristic nod, even if the smile on his face was a shade more mischievous than normal. 

As he turned towards his bag, reaching in to grab the extra bottle of water, he could feel Youichi staring at his back. Slowly he turned around, putting in extra care to make the turn smoother than he normally would. His eyes raked over the white uniform, the lopsided black hat resting on Youichi's head. The accents of burnished orange only acting to further his belief that Youichi could make any colour work for him. Cackling to himself, his mind went back to the stray thought that had caused his laughing fit initially. A quick glance to his phone told him the relevant date, as well as alerting him of the lack of practice or game. He ignored the curious look Youichi sent towards him, instead turning back towards the game. His homerun had shaken the game up, the rest of his teammates using the momentum to score more runs and widen the gap.

Yomiuri Giants | 8:7 | Hanshin Tigers

The game ended soon enough, the results spoke for themselves, even if it had been a tight finish. They packed up quickly, the bow swift in its function, none of them willing to let their presence transform into pity towards the losing team. As he put away his catcher's gear, with the ease of experience backing up his rapid movement, he could see Youichi patiently waiting for him. Even if neither had ever said anything to the team directly, there was an understanding that after games, both would be glued to each other. As he stood up, Kazuya didn't reach over to grab Youichi's hand, nor did Youichi try to pry the bag off Kazuya's shoulder onto his own. Instead, they showed their attention through the softening of harsh smiles into teasing smirks, the quick shake of a head as one of them prompted the discussion of a meal outside or at home. 

When they found themselves in the comfort of their own home, a relief from prying eyes, Kazuya let his walls fall a bit. Both of them dropped their bags onto the ground near the entrance - making a silent promise to deal with them later. Youichi wandered over towards the couch, lying down lazily. Kazuya's own trek towards the kitchen led him through the living room; he took a moment to run his hands through Youichi's hair and tugged on the strands enough to hear a pleased hum. Padding into the kitchen, he started the rice and began pulling out the side dishes he'd prepared the day before. He stood in front of the stove and waited to reheat the curry. When the sound of familiar footsteps entered the kitchen, he could feel himself perk up slightly. A hand came to rest on his lower back, as Youichi stood beside him in their kitchen. They both felt the exhaustion of a well-played game taking hold of them until it was entrenched in their bones. And yet the simple banter that pervaded their relationship was almost as comforting as a good night's rest would be.

Kazuya found himself nodding off, while standing, as he listened to Youichi retell the familiar story of Sawamura's failed attempt at grabbing Nori's attention back when they were in college. If it hadn't been for the beeping of the rice cooker, he would most likely have dozed off there, and by the teasing lilt to Youichi's voice, his momentary slip-up had not been lost. He chuckled tiredly before turning back to take the pot off the gas. His thoughts of reaching around Youichi to grab the plates were interrupted as Youichi spoke again.

"Hey Kazuya, why were you laughing at that last at-bat?" Youichi's voice held the same gruffness it always did after a long day, but to Kazuya it was a soothing balm. Registering the question, he started laughing again and shook off the squawk of confusion before replying.

"It's nothing, I was just wondering if you had anything planned for September 13th?" When he saw Youichi shake his head, he grinned brightly and continued, "do you want to join me for Tsukimi? It's the Mid-Autumn festival this month, so I thought with both of us having a day off, we might?" At the end of his offer, Kazuya's voice had gotten a bit quieter as he felt the nerves creeping up. He had turned away from Youichi to remove the rice from the cooker so he couldn't see his face but the hand that settled in his hair was gentle. The tension in his shoulders melted away. 

"Sure, yeah. Ma never did much for Tsukimi so I don't know how much I could help, but of course Kazuya." Youichi's hand continued to run through his hair, scratching at the back of his neck lightly. Kazuya groaned slightly, resisting the urge to slump back onto Youichi's shoulder. 

The days passed quickly, Kazuya ruffling through age-old recipes that he had put away a lifetime ago. His hands moved in familiar patterns as he formed the dango, memories of gentle hands wrapping around his as he learnt to form the dango for the first time, a laugh like wind chimes echoing in his head. The soft smile on his mother's face blossoming into a wide grin as his father tried to sneak one out of the kitchen. The teasing beration, as she lightly smacked his shoulder, while Kazuya stood on his stool beside the counter and laughed. The simultaneous ruffle of his hair and kiss pressed to his cheek.

There were tears in his eyes as he stacked the Tsukimi dango, and he could feel tightness in his chest as he laid out the pampas grass on their balcony. Youichi had been suspiciously silent, instead choosing to simply assist where he could - buying the sake and cleaning up after Kazuya's cooking frenzies. But as Kazuya's hand shook placing the last of the food in bowls, Youichi was there to pull him into a tight hug. His fingers grasped the back of Youichi's shirt and he found himself burying his face into the junction between the neck and shoulder. A pained sound threatened to escape his mouth but he managed to repress through brute force. The soothing hand running between his shoulder blades, coupled with the banal utterances in his ear was enough. 

He pulled away, a shaky smirk on his lips as he rapidly tried to patch himself up. But when they locked eyes he froze at the look in Youichi's eyes. Anger and concern had given away to a feeling Kazuya could only place as love. A love that made his insides melt into a gooey mess and ended all sarcastic remarks. 

He was sure that Sawamura would have cried at their "shoujo" moment. 

Youichi's hand came up to cup his cheek, but rather than allowing the touching moment to continue, Kazuya grasped the hand and quickly stood up. Walking the two of them towards the balcony, he held his arm out to display all the hard work he'd done. The full moon shone bright in the sky giving everything a light glow - the food sat carefully on a low table in front of a few blankets and pillows that Kazuya had found. The pampas were displayed around the table, fanning around the sake and cups. Shifting his hand from holding Youichi's wrist, he intertwined their fingers before sitting down. Youichi shifted closer, the both of them pressed thigh-to-thigh and then draped one of the blankets over their laps. 

"Ne Youichi, did you know that Tsukimi is actually inspired by the Chinese Tang Dynasty?" His focus was on the sky, watching as the stars bracketing the moon twinkled cheerfully, but he could feel Youichi's eyes on him. Shifting slightly at the intense gaze, Kazuya continued speaking in the same soft tone, "mom used to say that the moon was the reflection of all the good you did each year, so Tsukimi was when we got to see all our hard work in the resplendent full moon." 

The squeeze of their intertwined hands brought a smile to his face, a slight blush decorating his face. "This was always her favourite festival, she loved making the dango because my dad loved eating them. But, after she..." he took in a shuddering breath, turning into Youichi's shoulder for a moment before pulling himself away again. "We stopped doing any celebrations, after all, dad and I loved them for her." 

Silence permeated the night, not uncomfortable, and not pleasant. It just was.

"Ma, Autumn has always been her favourite season. Chiba always held some harvest festival, so she would take me to go eat takoyaki in the stalls, both of us dressed up." Youichi's voice was light and breezy, eyes shining with happy memories of the past, "Grandpa always complained that he wasn't interested in festivals even though he would come to the rest. I didn't get it when I was little, but he was trying to let us have something, just for us. Mother and son." 

Youichi popped one of the dango into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "But you know, with Seidou, college, and now the team, I haven't really been back for any Autumn festivals in so long." 

Kazuya tensed, nervous about what Youichi was leading up to, but his fears were quickly dashed as Youichi leaned in quickly to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Doesn't mean I’m opposed to this. The moon, the delicious food, and you." He blushed, and though a smirk valiantly fought to appear on his face, the vermilion betrayed his pleased thoughts. Still, he wouldn't be Kazuya if he didn't respond in some way.

Baring his teeth as his grin widened, Kazuya leaned closer until his face was only centimeters from Youichi's. A wicked glint flashed in his eyes, and when Youichi's breath visibly caught as his tongue dipped out to wet his lips, Kazuya's heart raced. Hands reached up to cup Youichi's face, fingers framing the face he would gladly come home to each night. Pressing their lips together, he savoured the moment with a yearning for more that burned inside him.