Eijun wanted to tell him that he was sorry.

Chris was one of the few people who believed he was special. That he had more to him than meets the eye. That if he worked hard enough, he could be a true ace. Sure, coach Katoaka and Rei-san were his avid supporters, but it was only Chris who'd really pushed him to be the best he can, and even gave up his free time to train or lecture him. Chris believed in his kouhai, and Eijun was thankful for that. He always kept that in mind, so he worked hard—harder than anyone else—to meet his senpai's expectations.

But he blew it.

Chris always lectured him not to overwork himself. Eijun saw first-hand what an injury can do to someone, because he saw what an injury did to his senpai. But it was almost Nationals, and he had to do his best because every game was a make it or break it for him. So he pushed, and he pushed, and he pushed. Then one day, he broke.

Not completely, but he fractured his left arm. It wasn't career-ending, but it was the worst time to have it. No one blamed him, but he wished they did. Instead, he had to listen to the silent disappointment that they gave him. Furuya and Haruichi though, they were still being amiable. They'd still sit with him during lunch, and Furuya would still argue with him about being the ace. But that was it. In the dorm, Kuramochi didn't initiate any wrestling fights anymore, and he didn't hear any requests from Masuko to play video games with him. Miyuki hadn't teased him in a long time and hasn't heard Ishisaki yell at him either.

It was all very painful to watch. But what was more painful than all those put together was how Chris treated him. If he ever felt insignificant to the team, Chris made him feel more so. He always used to focus on Eijun while they were training. And although those memories were filled with lectures and Eijun being stupid, he took it as a sign that Chris really did care about him. But now, Chris would only talk to him if needed to, and sometimes he'd only order the manager to give him his training menus. It was rational, Chris needed to focus on the more able players who'd play in Nationals. It would be stupid to put all his attention to an injured, loudmouthed rookie.

But Eijun missed him. He missed how Chris would always criticize his form. He missed how after a hard day's work, Chris would shuffle his hair and smile, saying "Good job." He missed how, even though Chris was trying to look like he was disappointed at his kouhai, he would smile a little, showing that he really wasn't. He missed it all, and it sucked because he would never have those moments with him ever again.

Only now did he truly understand the overwhelming pain of disappointing someone you desperately wanted to impress.

When Nationals started, he didn't play. Even in their final game, he didn't play. It killed him. The third years', it was their final game and he wasn't a part of it. He just sat as he watched them lose. He couldn't even share their tears when they did. Tanba, Chris, Tetsu, Ryousuke, Ishisaki, Masuko, he never would've thought he'd see the day when they would all burst into tears, but they did. And he couldn't feel anything but regret. It was all his fault, he should've listened to them.

A month before the school year ended, Eijun's arm finally healed. He was allowed to play baseball, but was advised to take it slow. He wondered what Chris would think of the news, but then he reminded himself that his senpai wouldn't care anymore. Or would he?

He decided to tell Chris anyway. Eijun thought that maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they were, at least for a little while. But then the most probable reaction would be that he would most likely be ignored anyways. But he still hoped.

When he did tell his senpai, the only thing Chris did was smile. It was a sad, knowing smile, and being the idiot that Eijun was, he couldn't understand why. Chris told him to go back to training, and the young pitcher nodded with an obvious hint of sadness in his eyes.

Finally, his teammates started interacting with him again. Miyuki and Kuromochi started being annoying again and Masuko even offered him his pudding. It was all good. He started thinking that he could start afresh, and that next year he could and would do better.

But "next year" also made the last year of the seniors official. He won't find them anymore on the field. Eijun was going to miss them. His captain, Tetsu, was a really capable leader who did well in both fielding and batting. Ishisaki always had his back in the field. And Chris—he was the best senpai anyone could ever ask for.

In the end, Eijun couldn't salvage anything he had with him. His time already ran out. It was already the day of the send-off dinner for the seniors. Eijun could already see what was going to happen: after practice, the whole team would gather and eat in their cafeteria, seniors would give their speeches, and then it's goodbye. He didn't want that.

He wouldn't even be able to say sorry to any of them.

So, after practice, he went straight to his room and sulked. He was planning to skip dinner and be miserable all night long until he found a misplaced piece of paper on his desk. Curious, he got off his bet and looked at the paper, only to realize it was a letter. It was addressed to him, but there was no signature on the envelope. He decided to open it, and when he looked down to see who it was from, he was shocked to know that it was from the one and only Takigawa Chris.

Eijun,

By this time, I have probably left the dorm and campus by now, but I just wanted to tell you a few things before I left for good.
I know you think that the seniors and I blame you for what happened, but we don't. Due to the timing of your injury, I would be lying if I said that I wasn't disappointed, but I was never mad at you. If anything, I was mad at myself. I know you'd be stupid and push yourself over your limit, but I failed to stop you. And for that, I'm sorry.
The reason why I detached myself from you was because I wanted to prepare myself to let you go. It was a very selfish decision, but you were like a little brother to me. I wanted to make it easier for myself, but last night I realized that it didn't make it easier at all. If anything, it made it harder for me. But it's too late to regret anything now.
I want you to know that I'm proud of you. You improved everyday and your enthusiasm never wavered. I hope you'll still be like that after the seniors are gone. You'll be a senpai now too, for the freshmen. Lead them to the National stadium.
You'll do great things, Sawamura Eijun. Don't ever give up.

-Takigawa Chris

Eijun already started crying from the first sentence. And when he reached the end, his eyes were all red, his nose was clogged, and his t-shirt was stained with his tears. He couldn't believe it. All this time, Chris felt that way. He even said sorry.

Eijun decided he didn't want it to end like this.

"Yo, Sawamura! The seniors are already leaving, aren't you going to say goo—the hell happened to you?!"

"Kuramochi-senpai, where are the seniors?!" The tearstained Eijun asked in desperation. When Kuramochi told him where they were, the boy started running. He can't be gone yet. Not yet. Not until he heard what Eijun needed to say.

He finally found them. The seniors were already leaving, bags and strollers at hand, while the other team members bowed to their retreating figures.

"Wait!" Eijun shouted to catch their attention. They all looked back at him. Only then did he realize that he didn't know what to say. They all eyed him quizzically. "I-I'll definitely lead the team to the National Championships next year!"

After letting Eijun's words sink in, all the seniors started laughing. Hard. Seeing their kouhai—cheeks flushed, nose red, face stained with tears—saying something as gutsy as that. Not to mention that since he didn't attend the send-off dinner, he wasn't aware that Furuya was chosen as the new ace. The fact made the seniors laugh even harder.

"Why're you all laughing?!" Eijun yelled, embarrassed. Then, he looked at the tall brown-haired man who was also laughing and called out to him. "Chris-senpai!"

Chris smiled at him. This wasn't sad one, but instead it was happy and nostalgic. He turned around and started walking again. When the seniors saw him, they followed. As Eijun watched their retreating figures, he heard Chris say something. He wasn't sure, since it was a soft and silent whisper, but he could've sworn he heard Chris say:

"Gambatte, Eijun."

Hey guys! A little sum'n-sum'n for all ya'll because I haven't started writing the third chapter of S&T. Hehe. Hope you all like it. Please review! They seriously inspire me.

Thanks for reading. Much love!