#miyabuu

In Haruichi’s second year of baseball at Seidou, Miyuki-senpai leads them to Nationals. The journey is filled with sweat and tears and the anxiety of new partnerships, but somehow, together, they make it.  Haruichi grows to respect Youichi for reasons other than the fact that he has Ryousuke’s unshakeable trust — after endless practice sessions, he starts to appreciate the constant strength Youichi loans him, and he tries to return it in every way he can. By the time they face Inashiro High at the very end, Haruichi has more faith in his teammates than he’s ever had before, and his own relationship with Youichi has become a thing that he takes pride in.

He thinks Ryousuke, although he’s been too busy with university to attend any of their games, would be proud of them.

At the bottom of the ninth, Haruichi hits the home run that crushes Inashiro and wins Seidou the game. His bat flies out of his hands as he runs, runs, runs, but he knows in his heart that he’s hit the ball far past what any outfielder can catch. That hit contained all the passion he could muster: for his teammates, for his brother, for Youichi. It’s not a ball that can be caught. 

The crowd roars before he’s even passed first. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Youichi rounding home plate. Haruichi’s feet skid on the bases, kicking up dust and dirt, desperate to meet him there. When he makes it home, Youichi rips Haruichi’s helmet off and shakes him by the shoulders. He’s laughing his wild, contagious laughter, and it reverberates through Haruichi’s entire body, through the entire field. Haruichi is laughing with him, a victorious flush high on his cheeks. He doesn’t even recognize the giddiness in his own voice. The other team’s catcher has crumpled at the plate, defeated, and they leave him far behind. 

The rest of his teammates trample onto the field, led by Eijun, who is shouting louder than Haruichi’s ever heard. Miyuki is hot on his heels, whooping. He and Youichi punch each other hard when they meet, messy and joyful. The whole team is cheering. Haruichi is swarmed. People are pounding him on the back, nearly knocking him over, then scooping him back up again. Youichi wraps his arm around Haruichi’s waist and doesn’t let go. Everything is spinning, spinning, spinning, and all around him are smiles and tears and joy.

It’s probably the best day of Haruichi’s life. 

Standing on the sidelines are last year’s third years, everyone who could make it; Haruichi can hear them screaming even from a distance. There’s Masuko, thumping his chest and bellowing; Jun, jumping and shouting; and—

And — 

Time seems to slow when Haruichi’s gaze settles that familiar pink hair amongst the other senpais. Ryosuke gives him slow, sure smile, and everything whirls back into focus. 

“BROTHER!”

Youichi’s body snaps around, and when he sees what Haruichi sees, he throws his head back and barks out a laugh that is nearly a howl. Ryosuke abruptly scales the fence that separates them from the field, and the other senpais follow him, stampeding the field. It’s like how it should’ve been last year, all of them together, racing on the field.

 Haruichi thinks his entire journey at Seidou has led up to this one moment.  

Youichi and Haruichi look at each other — and not for the first time, they are thinking the exact same thing. Haruichi begins to fight and elbow and squirm his way out of the center of the crowd, Youichi hollering for everyone to haul ass and get the hell out of their way.

Eijun catches him by the arm, shouting something about Haruichi’s home run, but Haruichi jerks away from him. Eijun follows his gaze to Ryosuke, who is now jogging across the field. His eyes flicker with understanding. He shoves Haruichi forward, smiling, then turns his attention to Miyuki-senpai and leaps on his back, still crowing victoriously.  

Haruichi runs towards Ryosuke on legs that have suddenly become rejuvenated. Youichi laughs as they take off, his long strides quickly overtaking Haruichi’s. They meet in the middle. Youichi tries to slow down at the end, tries to pull back, as if to say, He’s your brother, you go first, but no — Haruichi won’t let him. Youichi is a part of them now. He catches Youichi’s hand and doesn’t let go, feels his cheeks get pink and doesn’t care. He wants all of it, he wants everything, Ryousuke and Youichi together, and it’s selfish, but — but — on this day — can’t he have what he wants? 

Maybe Ryosuke can read his thoughts, or maybe he’s feeling generous, but either way he doesn’t even flinch when Haruichi hurls towards him, yanking Youichi alongside. He curls his arm around Haruichi’s shoulders when they meet and lets Haruichi fall into him, chests and noses bumping. Youichi joins in, crushes them in a hug so tight, Haruichi can barely breathe. Ryosuke is smiling, an unguarded, wide smile, and Haruichi smiles and laughs and cries all at once in response to it. In this one time, in this one place, Haruichi can’t possibly lose. 

“Brother! I-I thought you couldn’t make it—!”

Ryosuke’s lips curl at the edges, return to his natural smirk. “Plans change.”

Haruichi’s heart soars. He digs his fingers into Ryosuke’s shirt. He’ll never let go now, not ever. He doesn’t know what Ryosuke had to do, and he doesn’t care. He came for them. 

“You’re going soft!” Youichi snickers. He hasn’t let go of the two of them, and it feels natural and perfect to Haruichi. Ryosuke smacks Youichi on the back of the head, harder than usual, but it just makes Youichi beam even more brightly. Haruichi can’t help but glow at the sight of them, back together again. 

Ryosuke dips forward into Haruichi, leaning their foreheads together, all three of them, and says words that Haruichi never expected to hear: 

“This whole time, I never doubted that you’d win.” 

Youichi stiffens, eyes wide, and then flushes. Haruichi twists his grip on Ryousuke’s shirt, fingers clenching. He’s wordless. Ryousuke gives him that careless smirk, and it sinks in that he’s been there all along, watching them work their way to Nationals. 

They’d nearly lost during the semi-finals, and it’d been Youichi and Haruichi’s fault — a line drive that never should have made it through. At the time, Haruichi’d thought to himself — if it’d been Ryousuke, he’d have stopped it.

But Ryousuke’d never doubted him. Never doubted them. 

Haruichi squeezes his eyes shut to blink away tears. “Y-you saw the whole game?”

“You saw everything?” says Youichi, sounding slightly ashamed. 

When Haruichi opens his eyes, Ryosuke is staring at them. His eyes are darker than Haruichi has ever seen. Youichi makes a soft noise, a surprised one; Haruichi thinks he’s probably never seen Ryousuke completely open his eyes. All the noise around them becomes still and quiet. He can feel Youichi’s heartbeat racing, fast with adrenaline and maybe something else — and Ryousuke pulls them in even closer, until they’re all the same entity: Ryousuke’s smooth cheek pressed up against one side of his face, and Youichi’s scruff on the other. Ryousuke smells like cologne and Youichi smells like baseball and dirt, and all mixed up, Haruichi thinks it might be his favorite scent in the entire world. 

Ryosuke reaches a hand up, fluffs Haruichi’s hair. His breath puffs against Haruichi’s face. “Idiot. I’ve always seen you.” He slants a look at Youichi, and the way his smirk curls up is fond. “Both of you.”

Now Haruichi’s crying in earnest; happy, hot tears. He doesn’t know what to say. Ryosuke doesn’t push him away, even when Haruichi’s tears plop on his cheeks. Youichi’s face is burning red, but Haruichi’s never seen him look so pleased.