Okay, this is my first Oofuri/Big Windup fanfic, so please critique as you see fit. I don't care how harsh you are, so long as you think you are justified. I'm not a baby; I can take it. I'm relatively new to Big Windup (I just started like 2 weeks ago), but I'm so excited about this fandom.
I really don't know how I did. Please leave remarks. I'm pretty sure I've potentially screwed up some details. Well, it's creative freedom, but please point out any really obvious faults. This is probably OOC, so I'm apologizing ahead of time.
Disclaimer: I don't own Big Windup!/Oofuri/Ookiku Furikibutte. There's a reason this is fanfiction.
Ren Mihashi was a nervous wreck. That much didn't change from day to day, but he seemed even more nerve-wrecked then usual. But it happened just now. He lost what little composure he had as soon as practice ended. During practice, he was his normal, quirky-bird self. So what changed between those few hours and the few minutes it took to reach the dugout?
Tajima stood a slight distance away, supposedly organizing the team's equipment, staring uncharacteristically at the boy. He narrowed his eyes, trying to decide what could collapse this already nervous wreck. It probably has to do with the sexual tension between Mihashi and Abe, but they haven't hooked up yet. Then again, who's to say there isn't any tension between the two.
You see, Tajima wasn't just an amazing cleanup batter. He wasn't just the backup catcher. He wasn't just this amazingly enthusiastic pervert who never seemed to run out of energy for anything.
He was a bit of a matchmaker. And his latest project was Abe/Mihashi.
To him, the dynamic for a relationship was so obviously there that even he could see it. It frustrated him that no one else saw the dynamic between the two. Mihashi's dependence on Abe. Abe's absolute determination to make Mihashi a better pitcher, going so far as to work personally with him to improve his grades. No doubt they were only doing homework for now, but if Tajima had his way, those two would spend those "private tutoring sessions" doing something a little more private.
Mihashi stared out at the field, eying his precious pitcher's mound with a rapt attention he never demonstrated in class. Suddenly, the cellphone in his gym bag started vibrating and playing it's ringtone. Tajima didn't know the title, but he remembered Abe saying something about it being his favorite song. Mihashi pulled out his cell and flipped it open. He stared at the screen as he opened a text message. His expression never changed.
Deciding to take the moment by the horns, he walked up behind the boy and leaned in against his neck. "So," he said, "you got a text message." Mihashi instantly slipped from his distracted mood to his twitchy mood. He started looking around, sparks practically flying from his head. "Hey, it's from that hot cousin of yours. Ruri, isn't it?" Mihashi was too busy gibbering uselessly to answer or even to snatch back his phone. Grinning in an ever-ridiculous way, Tajima read the text message. The message killed the high he got from teasing the poor pitcher.
"'One of my friends wants to date you. You up for it?'" Though his usual stupid grin never left his face, he was frowning on the inside. Damn girl. She's screwing up my project.
"It's probably nothing," Mihashi stuttered. Inside, Tajima smiled once more. This may be the one chance I have to hook them up, he thought to himself. I just have to play this right, just like baseball.
"So you gonna go for it?" he said. "Dude, you're such a player. Think you can get some?" he said.
"Actually, I was thinking about turning her down. With my luck, it's just one of Ruri's crazy friends." Tajima smiled bigger.
"You sure? I'll betcha she's hot." Mihashi didn't meet his gaze. "Or...you don't wanna miss your study date with Abe." Instantly, Mihashi went straight to his panic mode. I think he's trying to deny it, Tajima thought. Instant sign of a liar.
Before he could say anything, Mihashi -shockingly- took the initiative in the conversation. "Hey, Tajima?"
"Huh?"
Mihashi started shaking again. "H-have you ever..." he rested his head on his hand, his elbows supported by his knee. Taking one last breath, he spit out "Hababaverbinlib." To the casual listener, it was just a string of gibberish. Tajima, though, was not just the casual listener. In fact, he was one of the few people who could decipher these cryptic cries.
Have you ever been in love?
This could not be more perfect, he thought. It's just like every shojo manga out there. Yes, he used shojo manga as (one of many) reference points for romance.
"Aww, Renren's finally found love! Who's the lucky girl?" As Mihashi stuttered for undetermined reasons (he could be complaining about the use of his nickname, or he was trying to respond about the "lucky girl" comment) Tajima smiled and clapped him on the back. "Well...love is...hmmm." He looked out at the field, as if trying to dig up an old memory. "Love is...God, why'd you have to make the question so hard?" Mihashi started to apologize, but Tajima said, "Hey, I'm just kidding."
Well, I guess it's a stupid question, Mihashi thought to himself. I don't know anyone who found love before high school. Suddenly, Tajima interrupted his thoughts.
"Well, love is...always working to make each other better. At least, that's what it's been in my experience." He smiled out at home plate.
What? Mihashi thought. He was at a loss of words, but that wasn't unusual. Not only was the answer really wise-sounding, it was also very unlike Tajima.
"Home plate. That's where it all started for me." He blinked twice, still staring at home plate. Mihashi glanced at Tajima, let out a slight squeak, then turned his eyes to home plate. "You see, I was in grade school when I started playing baseball..."
"Look, Tajima-kun, you have to improve. Like REALLY improve. Otherwise, I'm benching you permanently."
"NO! I can do it!" Tajima yelled back at the coach. "Just give me a couple more chances. I CAN HIT THAT BALL!" The tall, middle-aged man glared down at the boy, resisting the urge to hit him. He bent down and picked up the ball, waving it at the nine-year-old's face.
"Look, punk, you're gonna do as I say. You are NINE YEARS OLD. You have NO RANK on this field. All of this is MY CALL. I have every right to bench you as I see fit. Got that?" The last two words were spat viciously. Tajima flinched, then turned his gaze down.
"Y-yes sir," he whimpered out. The coach firmly placed the ball in the boy's hand. As the older man walked away, Tajima lifted his head once more. He gave the coach a hard stare, then tightened the grip on the ball he had so carelessly missed only minutes ago. He threw it to the pitcher, then readied himself for a fastball, high and to the right.
Damn coach, he thought to himself. Damn team, damn everything! With each curse, he threw a new ball into the air and swung viciously. He watched them soar through the lonely field, landing in what would have been foul ground. He threw his head back and let out a wild cry before throwing himself onto the ground. Angry tears leaked out of his eyes as his pent up anger and frustration coursed through his prepubescent body.
"Hey, kid," a voice called out. "You okay?"
Tajima whipped his head around, searching for the source of the voice. "Who's there?" he called out in replied. "Show yourself!"
"My my," the voice crooned. "Such spirit for such a small boy." Finally, a figure standing out against the evening horizon stepped out.
"Kid, practicing until you cry blood won't make you any better." The still androgynous figure stepped forward. "You're aim sucks right now, so quit trying for distance and get your skill up." Finally, the figure came under the light of the dim moon. It was a guy, maybe eleven or twelve years old. He was only five foot three, but he dominated the four foot eight boy. Black hair was pulled back into a ponytail ("How cool is that?" Tajima thought to himself), and his sharp brown eyes seemed to be analyzing Tajima.
"You're still growing," he continued, "so if we can fix you up now, that skill should carry over pretty well." He smiled at him, his whole body seeming to follow suit. "Oh, my name's Takuya Sato. And you are...?"
"Yuuchiro Tajima," he answered. "And what's up with all this 'we'?"
"Why, little Tajima-kun, I'm gonna work my ass off to improve you simply because it looks like fun. You in?"
Tajima eyed the boy warily. This could be one of those traps that his parents were always harping about. Then again, he eyed Sato again, he's not very threatening, is he? And I have a baseball bat, in case things go sour.
"Why not?"
He came up behind Tajima and gripped his hands, sliding them into a good position. "Like this," he said, guiding Tajima through the swing and follow-through. "It's supposed to feel like that. The ball should come off here," he stopped to point out a spot, "and it'll soar far out if you put force behind your swing."
Tajima blushed at the close contact. He could feel Sato's lanky arms on his, his chest pressed against his back. It was almost like a hug. He blushed slightly, then started shaking his head wildly, shaking off the notion along with several droplets of sweat. Sato let out a cry of disgust, made a comment about wet dogs, and walked back to the pitcher's mound.
"After that night, he would meet me at that field and work with me. He'd throw pitch after pitch, making sure I learned to nail them all. Course, none of them were quite like yours, Mihashi, but I learned the basics pretty quickly." Mihashi shook his head, finally snapping back. Tajima's story had been so enrapturing that he felt like he could actually remember it himself. Tajima seemed to remember every detail. Now that I think of it, Mihashi thought, he's actually pretty sharp about remembering.
"He knew how to work with me. He corrected flaws that I had already learned. He was nice and gentle about three-quarters of the time. That being said, he was a bit of a jerk the other times; then again, I was being stubborn. He yelled a lot, and he threw the ball at me when I snapped back. God, and he was so bossy! I don't think I've met a bossier person. Abe comes in a close second though." Mihashi flinched again, as if the name "Abe" invoked some physical punishment on him. "He was still pretty nice though, in a way. Although a lot of the stuff he told me was a load of bullcrap, it motivated me to work harder and improve..."
"C'mon! How'd you miss that!" Sato yelled from the pitcher's mound.
"Well, if you threw the ball where you said you would, maybe I'd be able to hit it!" Tajima yelled back. The ball went flying from the pitcher's mound to peg Tajima in the calf. He let out a cry and bent down to clutch his leg.
"Aw, Yuuchiro! I didn't throw the ball that hard!" he said laughingly. "But seriously: get up. The ball's not always gonna come to you in a game. You gotta learn to adapt. Otherwise, you're no different from the others." Tajima got up and turned to face Sato. Sato smiled knowingly and kept speaking. "If you can adapt to all the pitches, and manage to hit all types of pitches at all types of speed, you'll have value as a player. It wouldn't be hard to become top player with that type of adaptability. You're base running's already good, but a good batter needs a good hit before he can do anything on the bases."
Tajima panted heavily, wiping sweat from his brow. "So...?"
"So...that means I have faith in you. I have a feeling that you have potential. It's all there, waiting to be tapped. All you need is someone- me- to tap that for you. If you wanted to, I think you could make it to the pros." He walked over to Tajima and ruffled his hair. "We're done for today. If there's improvement tomorrow, then I'll come back again. But if I see any signs of slacking..." He waggled his finger warningly in Tajima's face, then turned away and walked off with a smile.
"Wait!" Tajima called out.
"What now!" he responded exasperatedly.
"Y-" he stopped. It couldn't be that big of a deal, calling someone by their first name, could it? He stopped, glancing warily at Sato's face. Sato's features tensed in frustration.
"SPIT IT OUT ALREADY!" he yelled. Tajima jumped slightly and spluttered again.
"I-i-it's just that...you..."
"What did I do THIS time?"
"Well...you called me by my first name." He looked away bashfully. "Or use an honorific."
Sato relaxed and smiled goofily. "Oh, is that it? Well, don't friends use first names and no honorifics?" Without looking back, he walked away, heading wherever it is he went.
Tajima stood still, looking out at the horizon. W-we're friends? he thought to himself.
They had practiced together every day for an entire week before Tajima got to try out his skills in Little League practice. Tajima stood firmly at home plate, taking a decent stance, as the pitcher readied himself. Tajima analyzed the pitcher best he could, trying to decide what pitch would-
"Fastball, to the right!" Coach called out from the dugout. "Tajima, you better hit this one."
The pitcher did his windup and pitched the ball. As he carried through, he felt his foot slide slightly. Damn, he thought. It's off.
A week ago, Tajima would've swung and missed. Now, after working with Takuya Sato for a week, he was ready for anything. He adjusted himself as a reflex, swung, and sent the ball between second and third. As the ball went through the hole, he ran to first place, taking each astounded look and dropped jaw with pride.
I did it!
As he biked toward the empty field, he someone call out to him. He whipped his head around, looking for the source of the voice. Whipping his head around, he turned around and saw Sato.
"Sato-kun!" he called back. "I did it! I hit the ball during practice!" He jumped off the bike and walked it with him.
Sato laughed. "Well, I should hope a baseball player can hit a ball!" As Tajima approached him, Sato could see the excitement practically oozing out of him.
"Nonononono! You see, it was off, and..." Tajima rambled. Sato half-listened to Tajima's play-by-play of the game. "...Isn't that great?"
Sato snapped back, smiling brightly at the boy. "That's great, Yuuchiro!"
"And it's all thanks to you," he continued. He looked back at him. "Takuya." He paused before he smiled. "It's a nice name."
Sato blushed and turned his face away from him. "W-well, since you-I mean...hmmm...just take a break today," he finally stammered out. "It'll do you good."
Tajima stopped walking towards the field. "Umm...okay, I guess." He turned around and headed down the road in the opposite direction. After walking away a few meters, he stopped and turned around. Sato was already walking the opposite way.
"He worked with me for that entire first year. I got better, playing about the same as I do now. I always knew it was him making me better. Actually, I improved more in those hours I practiced with him than I did when I was with the team. Not that that was bad though.
"I grew pretty close to him. Well, as close as you can be for a team mate. And, I will admit that it was love. Like really, truly love. The kind kids get when they have an idol." He turned around and looked at the locker room before turning back to Mihashi. "I was young, nervous, unrefined. He was a grumpy old man sometimes, but he had a good heart, and he always tried to make it better for me."
Mihashi gaped at Tajima. He had been so lost in the storytelling that he lost track of time. Flipping out his phone, he checked the time. Ten minutes only? he thought to himself. I really must have been out of it.
"I never tried to pursue anything with him, thinking that he would reject my approaches. After all, I was an eight-year-old with a crush. But thinking back on it...I kinda wish I at least did something..." He started staring off dazedly at home plate. "I've always had a thing for older guys." Mihashi squirmed uncomfortably.
"So, what happened to Sato?"
Tajima looked up at the lights. "I haven't seen or heard from him in a while. Last I heard from him was two years ago. He was in a semi-happy relationship with some girl, the happiness being on her part. Said he wanted to see me again, that he missed me. Almost went, but I had a game that day."
Mihashi stared at Tajima, speechless. He couldn't believe that such a tender, puppy-love story could have been the past of the self-proclaimed "King of Kink"; that Tajima would take all those steps into falling in love; that he knew the nitty-gritty of this game called love. He thought about the pain of his last relationship: how the messy break had angered his old team mates even more; how Kanou had become distant, giving him painful looks whenever he dared to look at the reserve pitcher. He had been so afraid to fall back in love. Now he was afraid to lose the love he wanted the most.
"...should loosen up in a while. Let me see." The two stood up and got out of the dugout. Abe was massaging Izumi's shoulder. Izumi let out a sharp "Ah!" as Abe pushed down a little harder. The air around Tajima suddenly felt queer, and he spared a glance towards Mihashi. His jaw was clenched, and a look (could it be jealousy?) sprung into his eyes. He texted a quick response to Ruri-who had mostly been forgotten-and ran over to Abe, dropping his phone on the ground.
Tajima flipped through the phone, going straight to "Sent messages". Opening it up, he took a look at the latest one.
Sorry no. I've got a boyfriend. He let out a private victory laugh.
Finally, Tajima gathered his stuff into his gym bag. As he was leaving, someone called out, "Tajima-kun." Twisting his head wildly, he caught sight of Hanai jogging towards him.
"Hey, what's up?" he said nonchalantly once Hanai got closer.
"Well, it's just...was that thing you told Mihashi-kun...well...you know..."
Tajima eyed him carefully, caught his meaning, and let out a bark of laughter. "Ha! You wish! No, I made the whole thing up."
"W-wait, what?"
"I lied," he said bluntly. "I knew Mihashi was into Abe but was scared about pursuing him. So I made a story that was kinda close to his situation. If he thought that someone else went through what he's going through, he wouldn't feel so uncomfortable and alone. Then, I gave him a sad, unrequited ending so he would be afraid of what would happen if he never pursued love. The sweet moments were done for his benefit. That guy's a sucker for romance, even if he won't admit it." He let out a laugh. "I'm a genius."
Hanai let out a snort. "So, you're not...you know..."
"I'm straight as an arrow!" Tajima declared. "Though I admit I'm a little bi-curious," he said lecherously. Hanai stiffened, put on an angry look, and walked away.
Tajima watched him leave. He'd make a decent second project for me. Maybe I'll try pairing him up with me.
Okay, so this didn't turn out quite as how I imagined it. I started to change stuff as my idea evolved over the course of week. Eh...please leave a comment, and maybe Sato will come back.
Heh, Tajima's got a good imagination.
Anyways, please leave constructive criticism. I think I screwed up the idea of love...