End of Summer
By: Ryocha
Junta liked the warm summer rain; he always had, but it never was a topic of conversation he would get in to, so he never told anyone this uninteresting fact.
He had pondered the option of telling Kazuki, but somehow the words would never come out right, nor did it like to rain on the last day of baseball practice. Luckily for him, the light drizzle that dampened the ground was going on long enough to deserve the cover of an umbrella, yet soft enough that the sound of the droplettes hitting the vinel wasn't deafening the small conversation being made below its protective shielding.
Junta sighed and shuffled his feet as he stood onlooking the miserable grey sky. While the sky made the atmosphere seem dead, only a mere look from his helpful umbrella holder would bring the warm feeling back into his abdomen and a shy smile to his face. Kazuki returned the adorned look with a simple grin and a nod.
"I like the rain," Junta stated awkwardly, his eyes fearing to leave the attentiveness of his catcher. And Ex-Captain, a soft, reluctant voice reminded him, and his smile faltered into a grimace.
It was the last day, wasn't it?
An arm was thrown around his shoulders unexpectedly, causing Junta to squawk and get thrown off balance. A soft trill of laughter, sounding forced, left Kazuki's throat. It was meant to lighten the mood, but instead it caused a pain somewhere deep inside Junta's heart to hear such forced happiness for his sake.
"Don't be so sad, Junta." The taller tanned man reminded him with a shake of the shoulders. "There will always be more opportunities for you." Junta straightened his lean torso, his shoulders brushing up warmly against the more broad, muscular ones of his catcher. Kazuki didn't bother removing his arm, either.
Junta felt it. Emotions were boiling up that he couldn't supress.
"But they won't be with you," The teary-eyed pitcher explained, head jerking away as long-surpressed tears began to trickle down blushing cheeks, "I wanted to continue my pitching career with you." His hands suddenly felt cold and clammy in their fisted form by his sides. His body had gone rigid once he finished talking; a silence so deafening was his only comfort afterwards.
He didn't want Kazuki to see him break down like this; he swore he wouldn't, didn't he?
But over his ravaging inner voice that tormented his mind, Junta heard a soft chuckle. It sounded natural and soothing; it mixed with the sound of the raindrops on the vinel umbrella as though they were one. He paused, and slowly turned his awe-strucken face towards a broader, more toned face. It smiled at him, appreciatively and invitingly.
A single hand reached out and grabbed his right hand; it felt soft and warm and so inviting. He didn't know why, but Junta fell into this act of kindness headfirst.
His bag hit the ground and he buried himself into his friend's shoulder, the revengeful tears never ceasing to fall. He wondered; How long has he kept these tears to himself?
A hand bunched up and took in a fistful of Kazuki's jacket.
The seconds passed by as though they were hours.
A lonely hand traced patterns in the spot between his shoulder blades.
He didn't want this warm feeling to stop.
It won't.
But it did. It ended with the silencing of smooth lips on his own; Junta just knew his emotions were going to overflow again if Kazuki continued to reel his tormented soul left and right in this little game they had been playing for those three long years of high school.
And so they stayed like that.
Stuck and suspended.
Why did they decide to start at such a pathetic time?
I know I'll never see you again like this.
I wish I could have told you earlier.
I wish…
But that doesn't matter anymore.
Junta had always liked Kazuki; he always had, but it was never was a topic of conversation.
Kazuki was gone, and he was heartbroken.
It wasn't even worth telling anyone.
-OWARI.