"I'll never know what makes this man with all the love that his heart can stand dream of ways to throw it all away." - Gravity by John Mayer


Chapter One

"It's Thursday today."

"Yeah."

"I like you."

"I know."

The persistent freshman stared - almost glaringly - at the impassive catcher, trying to search his eyes to find something - anything. But, just like any other Thursday, he failed. The two had just finished playing catch, and while Miyuki was taking off his gear, Sawamura decided to ambush him with his feelings. Again.

Sawamura, ticked off by how unfazed the other boy was, huffed unbelievingly. "You know what else? I think you like me too and you're just afraid to admit it."

Miyuki snorted, undoing the strap of his breastplate. "Only an idiot would like someone like you."

Sawamura narrowed his eyes at the figure too busy removing his gear to look at back at him. "And what kind of person is someone like me?"

Miyuki stopped what he was doing and faced the pitcher, his infamous smirk curling his lips. "An idiot, of course."

"So you're saying only an idiot could like another idiot?"

"Yep."

Sawamura's lips formed an indignant frown. "... I hate you."

"Hn?" Miyuki's eyes brightened with humor. "But just awhile ago, you said - "

"Lalalalalala," Sawamura shouted loudly while covering his ears. "I hate you, Miyuki Kazuya! I hate you! I don't like you! I hate you. I hate, hate, hate you!"

And before he knew it, Sawamura took off.

"Hey senpai," Kanemaru Shinji called out, entering the scene. "Why is Sawam—"

"Beats me."

Kanemaru didn't want to press his senpai on, so he just replied with an unsatisfied, "Okay…"

It's been more than two months since Sawamura confessed. Somehow, Miyuki managed to brush it off with a joke. Most people would pass that off as a rejection, but then again, most people weren't Sawamura Eijun. When the pitcher realized he wasn't going to get a straight answer from his catcher, Sawamura told Miyuki that he'd remind him of his feelings every week, just in case he changed his mind. Not like he ever did in the nine times he confessed.

"Fuck," Miyuki cursed to himself. He didn't know why but Thursday of every week, he would feel cold sweat in the back of his neck. His stomach would feel empty, his body would go numb, and for a moment, it's almost as if he's paralyzed. It only lasts for a while, though. He didn't understand why it happens. It wasn't guilt. It wasn't sadness. It definitely wasn't regret.

It was something Miyuki Kazuya could not decipher. And he hated it. He hated Sawamura Eijun a little bit for it too.

The next day, Miyuki went to class. He skipped PE to go to the clinic, but only because it was the only subject he could spare for the day. He wasn't able to sleep much last night, but it was normal. At least on Thursdays. He was fine, though. Miyuki Kazuya was fine.

It started raining in the latter half of the day. Even after dismissal, it was raining. Good thing he always had an umbrella prepared, or else he would have used his bag for cover. It would have messed up the notes that he had meticulously taken down this semester, which was a first for Miyuki. He never had complete notes until this year. In the past years, he was able to pass with below average to average scores without taking notes, but his first year in Seido taught him that simply listening in class is not enough.

He took his usual route to the baseball field, when he spotted a certain brown-haired boy with a redhead who was wearing a Seido Baseball jacket under the same umbrella. The umbrella was pink, so surely it was the boy who forgot to bring his own.

When the brunette turned his head, Miyuki knew right away that it was Sawamura holding the pink umbrella, and the redhead that was with him was one of the managers whose name he never bothered to remember.

Forgetting to bring an umbrella, Miyuki snickered to himself. His idiocy is topnotch.

It was a fifteen minute walk from the high school building to the baseball field, so Miyuki knew he had to bear the sight of them under an umbrella for at least a while. It was kind of fascinating actually. The more he looked at their back figures, the more they look like an ordinary couple. Sawamura would say some stupid joke, flailing his arms around while making a dumb expression and the girl would laugh. Miyuki could almost hurl at the sickeningly romantic vibe he's getting from them. Her IQ must be on the same level as Sawamura, Miyuki thought. For her to laugh like she did.

Then, just like in any cliché shoujo anime, the redhead tries to avoid a puddle and almost trips in the process, but Sawamura, acting like the gentleman that he is not, grabs her by the waist before she lands on her face. They both blush and stay in that position for five seconds.

Miyuki rolled his eyes and sighed. He decided it was better to take another route to the baseball field, even if there is an added five minutes to the ETA.

Once he got to the baseball field, the rain only got stronger. Coach Katoaka decided that it was better to postpone any field work and made everyone except for the pitchers and catchers, do weight training instead.

"Miyuki," Katoaka gestured him to come closer. "Chris will be handling Furuya's rehabilitation, just so we can be sure that his sprain is healing properly. For now, you're in charge of Sawamura. See if he's in good condition, we may need him for the next game."

The catcher groaned inwardly but nodded anyway.

He was making his way to the practice room when he heard footsteps behind catching up to him.

"Yo," Sawamura grinned, excitement evident in his expression. "Coach told me you'll be my catcher today."

"Yeah," Miyuki gave him a tight-lipped smile as he opened the door. "You seem awfully happy today. Something good happen on your way to training?"

Sawamura raised his eyebrow. "On my way to training?"

Miyuki ignored him and made his way to the basket of baseballs. He threw one to Sawamura. "That redhead—she's pretty cute. And miraculously into you. You should date her."

Sawamura gave him a look of incredulity, catching the ball as he managed to say, "What?"

The catcher bent down into position and slammed his fist and mitt together, gesturing that he was ready to catch his pitches. He signaled for a fastball on the upper left corner. "Yeah—I mean, she's a manager, so she's your best chance in having a girlfriend. You'll get to see her. Not many people in our team get to have that luxury, you know."

SLAM!

"Stop it."

Miyuki sensed the discomfort in his voice, but pressed on anyway. "I saw you guys—on the way here. I saw how she looked at you." SLAM! "Laughing at your stupid jokes, blushing when you caught her from falling—" SLAM! "She likes you."

Miyuki threw the ball to him again, but the pitcher decided to hold on to it.

"So?" Sawamura asked, annoyance lacing his voice. "So she likes me—so what? I—I like someone else."

Miyuki laughed in a condescending manner that made Sawamura scowl at him. "That's stupid. Why would you go for someone else, if there is a person right there, who likes you already?"

Sawamura glared at him even harder. "You tell me."

The pitcher threw the ball on the ground and stomped forward to the catcher. Once he got close, Miyuki saw the anger and frustration in his eyes. He stood up—knowing that there'd be some sort of confrontation. Sawamura stopped one step before their chests could bump.

"You twisted freak," Sawamura seethed. "If you don't like me—then just say it. I'll stop."

Somehow, Miyuki was able to admit to himself that didn't want him to.

But it was as if Sawamura was challenging him. He saw it in his eyes—the anger, frustration, annoyance, and fear. It was like he knew exactly how Miyuki felt and he was giving him some kind of ultimatum.

It was a challenge, and Miyuki Kazuya wasn't one to give in.

"I—" Miyuki managed to say, their close proximity slightly bothering him. "Don't… like you."

A flicker of something passed over Sawamura's expression. "Okay."

The catcher blinked. "Okay?"

Sawamura relaxed himself as he let out a sigh. "Yeah, okay. I want to practice my change-ups, though." He picked up the ball that he threw and got into position. "You ready?"

There it was again: cold sweat at the back of his neck, empty stomach, and numbness. Paralysis. It wasn't until Eijun threw ball straight down in the middle, right into his mitt, that it stopped hurting.


AN: Hi guys! I'm back... ish. I would love to hear your thoughts about this weird and not-proofread work of fiction. I'm thinking of making this a three-shot, depending on what you guys think. So please, tell me what you think! Review! I'll reply to you guys, swear.

Thanks for reading!