Disclaimer: Daiya no Ace belongs to Yuji Terajima.
10/28/2018 edit: Okay, I just realized that I haven't described how she looks like yet, so I went back from the beginning to drop some physical attributes here and there. Hopefully I could paint her clear enough!
Pink.
It's the color always filled in last. In her watercolor, oil pastel, colored pencil, and rarely, crayon drawings— the best is always saved for the last. Sometimes, even, pink would be the only color seen, and always in that one specific feature, with the rest of the drawing left uncolored.
It's not her favorite. In fact, it is so overused, it basically blends into the background. It's in shop displays, clothes, cell phones, toiletries. More so on girls' birthdays, and of course, Valentine's Day.
So, what sparked the partiality?
Pink is usually associated with the female population. And being surrounded all her life by girls who, along with her, have belongings seasoned with pink here and there (even if, for some reason, most would claim they hate pink), she has gotten used to the notion.
So to see it in the sun-beaten, dust-ridden, testosterone-dominated baseball field is, well, intriguing.
A random passerby the brunette had been that day when the sun caught the out-of-place color. She had thought it was someone's t-shirt that got unfortunately mixed in with the wrong laundry pile (because it was kind of low). But there it had shone in all its glory under the sun—a mop of pink hair.
Hair. A permanent feature of a person.
Person. She'd been staring at a person.
Her new muse.
Well, okay, maybe she hadn't been just a random passerby. She had to audition for the art club. So she had decided to impress them by trying to master drawing a moving subject. And who could be more perfect than someone from Seidou's baseball team? (Besides, the female art club members wouldn't really dislike a bit of fanservice.)
Informed that a practice game within the members of the team would happen that afternoon, she had rushed over and luckily found a nice spot.
That was when that head of cotton candy pink had emerged from the dugout, and since then, she couldn't look away.
A drawing of him in an almost-perfect double play was produced. She had passed the audition, got in the art club. But she couldn't move on.
She couldn't stop drawing.
Weeks had passed. His name, she had learned, was Kominato Ryousuke. A second-year back then (at first, it had surprised her—for very obvious reasons—though she's not really one to talk).
Now, why pink? Surely it's just hair dye, but still, why pink? He doesn't look like someone who's that hungry for attention.
Weeks turned into a year of near-daily observing and drawing, and she'd hauled home a bag full of papers from her apartment. It's not all Kominato, though. There's also the Seidou team—old and new—with a bespectacled young catcher rivaling the amount of drawings she has of the second baseman.
Honestly, she's not interested in the person. Severe bluntness aside, you'd also never really know if he's looking at you. That's pretty scary, right? It's uncute.
It's just his oddly beautiful hair that she adores. And now, there's one more year left to admire it. Just one more year of Kominato filling her sketchbooks.
Somehow, it feels lonely.
And she had to cringe at that. Shake her head. Slap herself thrice.
They're not even friends.
But it really doesn't help that just months ago, while gazing out the snowy surroundings from inside the crowded train back home, she had seen that familiar pink reflected in the glass. But as she had turned to get a better look, he already got off the train. Off one station away from hers.
Of course, she wouldn't go so far as finding out where his house is. The only effort she'd do for him is to go to his games. She won't even try getting close. Just drawing from a distance is enough.
She has a life apart from Kominato Ryousuke.
Or so she thinks.
The new school year rolls in. Stepping out of the train to Tokyo, she unmistakably sees again a flash of the pink she'd grown accustomed to.
So before she knew it, her feet are hurrying over to him. And like it's been bottled up in her for so long, she calls out, "Kominato –!" But then, she misses a step and almost tackles her pink-haired senior to the ground.
Luckily, he had turned to her before she even finished. She falls into his chest, but stays upright because of his hold on her shoulders.
It makes her heart thump loudly in her ears. Not out of excitement. But out of fear. Definitely no lovely, tingly feelings here. Because this is not a romantic encounter. She is in an embarrassing (and crowd-disturbing) situation with Kominato Ryousuke of all people. "I-I'm so sorry, Kominato… -san…?"
She had looked up to see that his cheeks are starting to glow bright red as he slowly releases her. Also…
"Hair…" She absentmindedly stares.
Kominato's fox-eyes are already too small, so wouldn't he have difficulty seeing if he covered them with bangs? "I-I think you've got the wrong person." And he's got a too-soft voice. No way would Kominato Ryousuke be nice to people who almost knocked him down in a crowded station.
Her eyes widen, processing his words just five or so seconds later. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She bows apologetically. "I just happen to know someone with the same hair color. Didn't think it's a fast-growing trend in hair dyeing."
"Hair dye?"
"I mean, there's no way that's natural, right? Anyway, sorry for bothering you!" She bows again, laughing nervously, and turns to make a run for it. Adrenaline would get her out of there despite her bags' weights. But, as if suddenly realizing something, she stops. "Although you reacted when I called his name."
The guy takes a deep breath. "I am Kominato. Kominato Haruichi." The blush in his cheeks lightens to a rosy pink as he mutters, "Aniki must not have mentioned me to his friends yet."
"Aniki?"
"Kominato Ryousuke." He slightly turns his head away. "You mistook me for my older brother."
A few moments of silence unfold as she blinks back at him. "You mean… natural pink hair is actually a thing?"
Haruichi, she learns, would be a freshman member of Seidou High's baseball team.
In the short time they had walked together (her apartment is conveniently in the same path as Seidou's), she could say Haruichi is the polar opposite of his brother. The younger Kominato is sweet and easily flustered, though that's not necessarily a bad thing.
It's like they're only similar physically.
Both of their eyes are a mystery. While Haruichi has his eyes hidden by his too-long bangs, the older brother has too-small eyes that you'd only probably see if you stand close to him. And who would want to be at such short distance from him? He's pretty much feared by his underclassmen, maybe even by his peers.
They also have the same height despite the two-year difference. Although she can't really laugh at that, because the first-year's even taller than her.
And of course, they both have the same eye-catching, genetically pink hair.
From behind, they look so identical.
First day of school brings her once again to the first floor hallway of Seidou High. Taking her time to get to the stairs leading to the second-year classrooms, she sees him.
"Ha~ru~ichiii!" She grabs his shoulders, expecting a surprised yelp and a cute blush. "Good mor… ning…" She instantly freezes.
"Oh, Stalker-chan! What pose shall I do for you today?"
Slowly, she backs away. "Kominato-san…"
"Ah, so drawing people without their permission isn't enough for you now? You decided to be a higher level of creep by touching them?"
"I-I didn't mean to… I only thought you're…" She gulps and looks away, but glances back with a frown. "And I thought I told you before—!"
"You're incomprehensible as ever."
"No, you just cut me off!"
"You're incapable of completing a decent sentence. It got irritating. Did you think that's cute?"
"I-I wouldn't want to be cute for you."
The senior goes silent.
Unnerved, she looks away again.
Then he continues, "As if I'd see you that way, anyway. When did stalkers even look cute? They're feared."
"You're the scary one."
He leans in, to which she steps back. He smirks. "Are you actually trembling?"
"No!"
"You're really loud. Just go to your classroom, creep." He points behind him, at 1-B's classroom.
"As if you're any taller than these first-years."
"What was that?"
"Did you even grow from your first-year high school height?"
"Have you been watching me even before you got into Seidou? My, how scary."
"Don't be so full of yourself."
"Which reminds me! You seem to know Haruichi already. And you're close enough now for sneak attacks? He's only arrived here a few days ago. You've become increasingly dangerous by the minute, Stalk~er-chan."
"It was just coincidence that—"
"Just get off my case, Stalker. Give me a peaceful final school year."
Pink.
The color of his beautiful hair.
The color of her flustered cheeks whenever she gets to interact – usually in a verbal battle that she loses – with her muse who has hated her guts since the beginning.
I miss Daiya no Ace so much, but I don't read sports manga so I have to wait for Act II to have enough material for an anime adaptation. And I miss Aniki so much as well. And even then, Ryou-san would most likely have little to no exposure there anymore, so I just have to write this to compensate for the loneliness. And also because Ryou-san needs more love. And I want to write Ryousuke x OC fluff just because.
First time in a long time to write something from the heart, so this first chapter ended up pretty long.
Anyway, what did you think? Please let me know through reviews!
This isn't done yet, btw. She needs a name, you know ;) Please stay tuned for the next chapters!
