"First. He touches you and you light on fire. Your wrist blazes where his fingers meet your skin. The burns don't show, but it's hard to breathe with ash in your lungs. It's so hard to breathe. You're suffocating daily."
"Got it, partner?"
Miyuki's glove bumps against Eijun's chest, his anticipation and confidence shining through the honest grin hidden by his helmet.
The fear that started closing in on him, squeezing his chest until it was hard to breathe, fades at the familiar touch. He feels a bit warmer, not as cold as naked fear would have him believe.
Eijun nods, still a little stiff, but Miyuki's excitement gets to him as well. It infects him, inciting a bubbling, burning desire deep inside him. It grounds him to where he stands – the mound.
And no one is going to take it from him, not this inning, not this game.
"Got it."
Seven innings later, the ball securely lands in the mitt and their victory is declared.
Their eyes meet across the distance separating them. Eijun's heated calm melts into light exhilaration. His wide grin is mirrored by Miyuki opposite him, an unusual sight which takes Eijun's breath away again.
It's moments like these when he can see that Miyuki really is like the sun, shyly emerging from behind clouds and even more beautiful because of its rarity. Its rays blaze even more strongly and heat Eijun to the core, burning him from the inside out.
He is thankful for every moment he gets to pitch, not simply because it is what he was born to do, but because it's getting harder and harder to remember how to breathe when the mound isn't his.
It's hard to breathe and hurts. It burns, he goes up in flames every time Miyuki slings an arm around him – but the world stills, just like his heartbeat, when they face each other as a battery.
Even though Miyuki's touch is painful and closes around his throat like a vice, even though he suffocates him, Eijun feels worse when his intensity isn't directed at him.
The pain he feels with Miyuki is burning hot – the pain he feels when he isn't, is cold, searing and gives him frostbite.
If he has to make a choice between the two, he'll always choose the first. Heat is preferable to cold, even if he is swallowed up by fire.