As soon as he's able to walk more than three steps without tripping, Yamamoto Tsuyoshi takes his son outside and teaches him how to hold a bat.

It becomes a tradition of theirs, like kisses before school and hot chocolate on Christmas. Every day after finishing his homework, Takeshi races his dad to the park (and wins about one-third of the time) so they can practice baseball in the light of the setting sun. Tsuyoshi, a former high school player who gave up on going pro to run the family business, gently corrects Takeshi's grip and stance until he looks like a mirror of himself in his youth, shoulders squared, base stable, bat firmly gripped in his hands.

By the time they get home, the moon is far above the horizon and the stars twinkle with every step. Safe on his father's back, Takeshi recounts all his favorite parts of the day while Tsuyoshi chuckles and holds his legs tighter.

-

The day Takeshi's mother dies, part of Tsuyoshi dies with her. Takeshi remembers his father hunched over his desk, shoulders shaking, as he pens her obituary. Yamamoto Aoi, loving sister, wife, and mother. You will always be missed.

The bedtime stories stop. Tsuyoshi, determined to be strong for his only child, throws himself into his work. Takeshi practices baseball alone and joins his elementary school team.

For awhile, everything's okay. It's not perfect, it never will be now that Okaa-san is gone, but they make it work.

It's not until middle school that Takeshi realizes he's head and shoulders above the rest, that his hard work combined with natural athleticism has created an unstoppable pitcher. Baseball magazines praise him as the next big thing, and already scouts are buzzing around him when he makes the starting roster as a first year.

He comes home that night with his team jacket draped over his shoulders and his new jersey still in its plastic packaging. He drops it in front of his shell-shocked father and says, "I didn't want to open it without you."

It's the first time he's seen him truly smile since her death.

But he's not a carefree little kid anymore, and he can feel how much his team is counting on him to always do his best, to always be the best. Practice is brutal. It's unlike anything he's ever done before, and it makes him feel like all the work he put in earlier is useless when he leaves with burning muscles and blue-black bruises.

It only gets tougher when he's a second-year. Baseball feels like the only thing in his life, and he can't remember the last time he came home and didn't immediately flop into bed, too exhausted to even change out of his uniform. He's grown 5 centimeters in the past season alone, and the underclassmen look up at him with adoring eyes. Murmurs follow him wherever he goes, and overnight he becomes the jock heartthrob of the school. It almost makes up for his slipping grades and perpetual migraine. Coach pats him on the back and tells him he'll get used to it, his hard work is paying off, you'll see. He becomes the ace, but he's never felt worse.

In his third year, he meets Tsuna.

-

When he's sixteen and four months, he's offered captainship of the baseball team, virtually unheard of for anyone not a third year. But the coach claps him on the shoulder and tells him he's got real potential, that the whole team looks up to him and they'd be honored if he'd be their leader.

Takeshi smiles, then turns him down. "Sorry, but I don't have the time," he tells the coach, then the rest of the team before practice. "You deserve someone who can give everything they have to baseball."

They're confused, but respect his decision. The coach stops him after practice and tells him the offer's always on the table, but deep down Takeshi knows he'll never take it. He walks home slower than usual that night, hands stuffed in his pockets instead of behind his head, and is acutely aware of the weight of his sword on his back. Ever since the fight against Bermuda, he'd never left home without it.

He passes by the park his father and him used to practice in, before his mother died and he relocated to a different one, because every time he came here the lump in his throat was too painful to bear. He stops now, and takes in the faded playground equipment, glowing dully in the moonlight, as old and familiar as the nights he used to spend here.

The wind ruffles his hair and teases the edges of his jacket. In the distance, he can hear a child wailing about their lost toy and the gentle reassurance of their father that they'd buy a new one. He thinks about his own dad, waiting for him to come home and help close up shop, and his friends, getting ready for bed and anticipating his usual goodnight text.

Something bumps into his shoe, and he realizes it's a baseball. He stoops to pick it up, and examines the red cross-stitching. It fits perfectly in his hand, as if his fingers were created specifically to cradle the round white orb. Now they were calloused, from baseball and sword-training alike, but the ball feels perfectly smooth. Briefly, he considers taking it home, before he shakes his head and places it back on the ground. It wasn't his, and someone else would be looking for it.

The stars twinkle with every step, and his chest is lighter than it's been in days. He wants to run home even though he has absolutely no reason to, so he does. His father glances at him in confusion when he suddenly bursts in, before shaking his head and turning away. Takeshi laughs and helps him wipe down the counter.

He's walking away from the life he always thought he wanted to have, but he's never felt better.

A/N: Tfw you post this less than an hour before day one ends.

In case you were wondering, I chose Aoi for Yams' mom's name bc it means blue. I thought it'd be cute if blue was always his favorite color because of his mom, and then it turned out to be his flame color too.

Hmu at chocobunnydrops on tumblr ! Thank you for reading !