Title: unnatural selection
Fandom: Daiya no Ace
Character/Pairing: Miyuki/Furuya
Summary:
"Miyuki-senpai," Furuya greets, face completely void of any hint. "Do you have some time after class today?"
Miyuki resists the urge to glance around because they're surrounded by their teammates in clear earshot—he honestly hopes Furuya isn't that blunt about some things.
"Hmm, why?" he grins a little, voice purposely teasing. "You want to confess to me? I only accept handmade chocolates."
-let's push this beyond a peaceful protest-
When Valentine's day comes, Miyuki doesn't have any chocolates to give to Furuya.
It's not that he forgets, but it sounds really terrible if he admits that it's deliberate. The thing is, he knows that chocolates on Valentine's day are kind of 'a thing' to do—he's received confession chocolates from girls before, but strictly speaking, that kind of doesn't really work if neither he nor Furuya is the 'girl' in the relationship. Besides, chocolates are for the confession, aren't they, and he's already in a relationship. He doesn't need the chocolate either, so it shouldn't matter that much.
But it feels…bad, like he's supposed to give chocolate regardless of all the social traditions that vaguely apply to them, yet on the other hand, it also feels like he's trying too hard if he does. It takes about a week up running to the actual day itself till Miyuki wakes up and stares at the date on his phone that he realises he hasn't gotten anything in that stretch of time, and so that's the answer he settles on.
As they start morning practice as usual, Miyuki eyes Furuya from the corner of his eye when they're doing laps around the field and sees no particular hint that it's a different day for couples. Then again, Miyuki isn't really sure if there's anything different in what he should be looking out for, anyway.
However when Furuya approaches him as they are making way for assembly after practice, Miyuki's blood freezes a little on the inside.
"Miyuki-senpai," Furuya greets, face completely void of any hint. "Do you have some time after class today?"
Miyuki resists the urge to glance around because they're surrounded by their teammates in clear earshot—he honestly hopes Furuya isn't that blunt about some things.
"Hmm, why?" he grins a little, voice purposely teasing. "You want to confess to me? I only accept handmade chocolates."
Kuramochi, who's walking in front of them, abruptly chokes loud enough for everyone to look to at him, while Sawamura, who tails behind them, throws his facial expression into the most disgusted crunch of his features and shrieks an offended yelp.
"W-who would ever—"
Furuya, to his credit, pays zero heed to the sudden commotion. "Can you catch my pitch before practice?"
Miyuki almost laughs, because he can't say he didn't anticipate that possibility. "Didn't I do that yesterday?"
Furuya is nothing but stubborn when it comes to pitching. "Yes, but—"
"It's a special day, Furuya," Miyuki says airily. "There might be people looking for you after class, you know?"
Miyuki means it as a joke—which is kind of why he stares at the three boxes of chocolates sitting on top of Furuya's shoes when they reach the shoe lockers and Furuya opens his. Sawamura makes a noise that sounds inhuman.
"Furuya—! Where did you get those?!"
Everyone peers into Furuya's locker after that outburst. Kuramochi slings an arm over Furuya's shoulder and plucks the top one out with ease, squinting at it.
"Isn't this… honmei chocolate?"
At that, Sawamura yells loud, scandalised. Kanemaru holds Furuya by the shoulders and shakes him excitedly while Tojo gives a congratulatory pat on Furuya's shoulders. Furuya blinks without a change in his expression, even as Kuramochi puts him in a headlock, hissing out his jealousy.
It only really occurs to Miyuki then that Furuya has the potential to be popular, or is already popular. From a purely objective point of view, Furuya is tall, good looking and the ace of the baseball team in his first year and girls like that whole silent mystery man thing going on; Miyuki wonders why he hasn't thought about it before.
"Who is it from?" Kuramochi demands as Haruichi tries to calm their senior down.
Furuya shakes his head. "I don't know."
Kuramochi tightens his headlock even further.
"…Aren't you overreacting a little?" Miyuki rolls his eyes, nonchalantly slipping into his shoes. "Tanba-san also received chocolate when he became the ace."
"That doesn't count!" Kuramochi retorts. "And he only had one! One! Does this look like one to you?" he huffs, pointing at the other two boxes in Furuya's locker. "Besides, aren't you the one underreacting, Miyuki?"
Miyuki narrows his eyes. "Mmm. What has it got to do with me?"
The tone is sharper than he wants it to be—Kuramochi stills, instantly knowing what he shouldn't have said, and Haruichi glances at Furuya minutely. Kanemaru and Tojo shift their gazes warily between their seniors.
"It's not like you'll get any chocolate, Miyuki Kazuya!" Sawamura huffs, killing the short tension.
Miyuki inwardly thanks the heavens for having such a thick-headed junior in their midst as he holds up a box that was in his locker; signed off by an ex-classmate.
"You were saying?" he winks with the most infuriating smirk he has.
As Sawamura chokes, red-faced, Miyuki takes this time to make his swift exit as he hears Kuramochi yelling after him that giri chocolate does not count.
Miyuki gets a decent amount of chocolate—all giri though—from the girls in his class and some from his first year class. Confessions don't happen as often as shoujo mangas make them out to be, it has to be more heart breaking confessing on Valentine's day and then getting rejected; Miyuki has no idea why anyone would want to suffer through that.
But apparently it's not all out of rage as it should be, which is why some of them are crouched behind a row of bushes whispering furiously and generally generating odd looks from other students by passing the back gardens. Miyuki isn't sure why he's hiding along with the rest of them to be honest—perhaps he had been pulled along by the atmosphere when Kuramochi had dragged him literally by the collar down the corridor right when the lunch bell rang.
"Furuya, you lucky bastard," Kanemaru hisses under his breath while Tojo holds him back by the shoulder, trying to get a better peak.
"There's no way Furuya is getting confessed to!" Sawamura gripes, looking like he's on the verge of a break down. "I'm telling you, this is just a—"
"Shhh!" Kuramochi glares. "You were the one who said you saw a girl giving him a letter—"
"That wasn't me! Harucchi said—"
"You were the one who sent me that text!"
"But Harucchi said—"
Miyuki glances over to Haruichi who shrugs and scratches his cheek abashedly. "Several girls from neighbouring classes came in to look for Furuya-kun this morning," the Kominato starts, but is interrupted by an offended squawk.
"—S-several—?!"
"Guys, shut up, someone's coming!" Kanemaru swipes at them at this same time, and they all fall silent, eyes straining forward through the thick leaves.
At several meters in front, Furuya has been standing and shuffling his feet while looking at a particular piece of paper in hand, which he blinks and lowers when girl appears on scene. Miyuki doesn't recognise her—it's probably someone in Furuya's year, rather pretty, if not cute, with circular glasses.
"Hey, Miyuki," Kuramochi mutters low enough that only he can hear as they're spying. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Aren't you the one who brought me here?" Miyuki whispers, eyebrows furrowed.
"Well, yeah, but—"
Kanemaru's hand shoves at their general direction. "Shhh! She's saying something!"
The girl approaches Furuya nervously, hands toying together as her lips move. It's hard to hear but if they strain their ears, it's enough to pick up the quiet sentences from her mouth.
"…—if Furuya-kun would like to….go out with me?"
Sawamura squeaks in disbelief, Kanemaru and Tojo simultaneously punch and shove a hand over Sawamura's mouth before they get caught.
They can't see Furuya's face from their angle, so it's an annoyingly long wait to wait for Furuya—who rarely speaks—to say something. Furuya shuffles his feet a little more but his answer is quicker than any of them expected it to be.
"I won't."
"Seriously?" Kanemaru mutters under his breath disbelievingly. "Furuya, are you serio—"
Tojo prods his shoulder "—shhh!"
The devastation is clear on the girl's face, and Miyuki feels a twinge of sympathy for the poor female, but he's mostly glad he's never been in that position, to be honest. The girl lowers her head, and takes a step forward.
"If—if it's about time, since you have practice every day, then I—"
"I have someone. I'm sorry," Furuya says, completely straight and blank-faced, and the girl falters off.
There really isn't anything anyone can say to that, and the girl nods and thanks him before running off with a hand pressed to her face. Furuya stands still after that, hands clenching and unclenching, like he's not quite sure what to do from then on. Miyuki watches in silence, forgetting that he's surrounded by other people until a voice cuts through.
"Furuya has a girlfriend?" Tojo asks, perhaps more to himself, but everyone else hears it.
Sawamura waves his hand in front of his face. "There's no way—"
"You heard him," Kanemaru puts in. "He said he has someone."
Kuramochi clears his throat uncomfortably. "W-well, that can also mean that…that…"
"Probably back in Hokkaido?" Haruichi quips helpfully.
"Like I said," Sawmura huffs, "There's no way—"
"You have no right to speak!" Kuramochi hisses, jabbing a finger at the southpaw.
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Sawamura retorts heatedly, standing up in agitation.
The pitcher only realises his mistake when he realises that Furuya is staring at him and he blinks rapidly, waving his hands around. "Ah, Furuya! W-what are you doing here?"
Furuya doesn't reply, but he walks towards the other which causes Sawamura to panic. "H-hey, look! There's another…g-girl looking for you!" he points to the other end with such a fake laugh everyone else who's still crouched down groans quietly into their palms.
Miyuki sighs and decides there's no point in hiding anymore when he's pretty sure they're not even out of sight enough to define their actions as 'hiding'—he brushes off his pants as he stands, giving Furuya a causal wave.
"I thought you wanted to look for me after class, Furuya," he says, tone teasing.
Furuya blinks, like he's just remembered about that. "Ah, Miyuki-senpai, will you—"
"Nope," Miyuki sings, turning his heel. "I'm going to eat. Don't be late for practice, you hear me?" he adds more towards the rest of the first years as he leaves while Kuramochi scrambles to catch up with him.
"…Hey, aren't you a being a bit too cool about this?" Kuramochi asks absentmindedly as they weave towards the cafeteria.
Miyuki glances at him with a raised eyebrow. "Again, what are you expecting?"
"I dunno," Kuramochi shrugs loosely, returning the glance for a bit. "Thought you'd care at least a bit, but you—…" he stops abruptly, eyes narrowing into a suspicious squint. "You. You are jealous, aren't you?"
"About what?" Miyuki hums. "He has someone, right?"
Kuramochi cringes at the smug look Miyuki sends his way, but he isn't fooled by the answer. Miyuki looks calm and confident like he is on the field, but this is far from baseball.
"…You should look like you care," Kuramochi says finally.
"I never said I didn't," Miyuki retorts under his breath, and Kuramochi lets him disappear into one of the stall queues.
It somehow spreads during the time after class until dinner that their ace has a girlfriend back in Hokkaido. It's the hottest gossip of the day, especially since there were plenty of witnesses to the confession (and subsequent heartbreak) that Furuya received (and gave) in the afternoon.
Furuya eats his dinner slowly while the curious ones sit around him, jostling.
"What's her name?"
"How did you guys meet?"
"How old is she?"
Miyuki watches the spectacle from his table with a fair amount of amusement—Furuya has said nothing to confirm (or deny) the rumour, but it's so like human nature to assume anything that isn't being said.
"How is she like? Is she hot?"
Furuya pauses, eyes shifting over to Miyuki—Miyuki purposely eats a mouthful of his rice, pretending to be oblivious. Kuramochi elbows him roughly in his rib under the table.
"You're not going to help him out there?" Kuramochi hisses. "You're fucking terrible, Miyuki."
"Come on, Furuya, spill a little!" someone calls, and the others around him murmur in agreement. "You have to like her a lot, right? Long distance isn't easy."
Furuya swallows his rice and puts his chopsticks down. "…I do."
The quiet answer is unexpected—and enough for the rowdy crowd to suddenly fall silent, such that the entire room hears the sentence as well. Someone wolf whistles, followed by excited clapping and whoops.
And then there comes the inevitable—"So, how far have you guys gone?"
"Hey, don't ask that so directly!"
"It's fine, isn't it? Oi, Furuya, don't be shy!"
Furuya's gaze flickers up again towards Miyuki—who avoids the gaze—and mumbles something too soft to hear. It's probably a good response judging from the shrieks he hears that teenage boys can make; also, Furuya looks down to his curled hands with a pink tinge on his pale cheeks.
It abruptly occurs to Miyuki that no one has ever seen Furuya blush except him—until now.
It's irrational, he knows, but he doesn't like it. Much like he doesn't like seeing those chocolates in Furuya's locker, or watching that confession in the back gardens—it's irrational because Furuya likes him, there's countless of instances that has happened that Furuya chooses him despite the horrible mess that he's made of. And maybe he should be doing something to reciprocate that instead of letting Furuya fend for himself against nosy questions into what is undeniably their relationship just because he's curious about what Furuya will say—
Miyuki breathes out lightly and shoves his remaining rice into his mouth.
"I'm going to go bathe," he says nonchalantly as he stands up and leaves the dinner hall without a backward glance.
He's not sure whether to be surprised when he walks back to his room after his bath and sees Furuya waiting for him outside his door.
"If it's not pitching or a bath—since I've just taken one—I'm listening," he says in greeting.
Furuya meets his eyes and Miyuki immediately stills at how serious and tentative the other looks.
"What's up?"
The pitcher takes one step forward and holds up a tiny box with both his hands. "Miyuki-senpai…will you eat this?"
Miyuki blinks, gaze shooting to the gift as he takes it—the brand name sticks out first, because it's a name known for really expensive chocolate. His eyebrows furrow, because yeah, it is Valentine's day and chocolate giving is a tradition but he doesn't have chocolate to return the gift now that Furuya's given some to him…really expensive chocolate at that—
Furuya bites a little on the bottom of his lip, looking up at him through his eyelashes shyly. Suddenly Miyuki remembers all the things that he did today that are decidedly not very fair to his…boyfriend…who looks at him like he's the moon and stars of the universe. Sometimes it's hard to accept that Furuya crushes on him so intensely to the point that he feels extremely out of depth with the way Furuya stares at him.
Miyuki opens his mouth, and then closes it again.
Fuck.
"…Yeah, okay," he swallows eventually.
Furuya's aura beams brightly, and he nods before taking his leave. The pitcher takes two steps before Miyuki reaches to grab hold of his arm. My god, Miyuki has never felt so simultaneously guilty and horrible because everything he does about being with someone is by being who he is to himself—but not to Furuya. Even if Furuya doesn't ask for anything more, it doesn't mean that he shouldn't do nothing either.
"Toru, wait here for a bit," he starts gently, leaving Furuya by the doorway while he enters his room to put down his toiletries and to take his wallet.
He cocks his head for Furuya to follow him after, down the stairs and towards the vending machine in front of their equipment shed. Furuya watches him curiously as he slots in a couple of coins and buys a drink, holding it out for the pitcher when it tumbles out below.
"Here," Miyuki says, measured.
It's a can of cold chocolate milk, the shittest attempt of chocolate giving that he's ever done but it's the only thing he can think of right now. Furuya reaches out with both hands curls his fingers around the can carefully, eyes brightening even under the dim glare from the vending machine.
Fuck, this is remotely negative to what Furuya deserves.
Miyuki's hand curls.
"Satoru," he calls quietly in the silence between them, meeting Furuya's eyes with no smile on his lips.
Furuya's breath hitches very slightly before their mouths meet.
Miyuki closes his eyes and lets Furuya press closer to him, exhaling lightly when their tongues curl together, warm and slow. The can of milk slips out of Furuya's grasp when their kiss deepens, clinking onto the hard concrete and startling both of them into a breath of air. Furuya makes to pick up the drink but Miyuki holds him still by the front of his shirt and kisses him again—when Miyuki pulls back, his hands cupped around Furuya's jaw. He watches the way Furuya's eyelids flutter open with the most intoxicated gaze he's ever seen.
"Miyuki-senpai," Furuya breathes quietly against his lips. "I…"
He thumbs Furuya's cheek, soft and pale, savouring the shaky exhale under his fingers. He smiles, soft, and meets their mouths again once more.
-I want to speak in a language that you understand-
Fin.
