A/N: Something I put together last second for kokiden's birthday ;)
From Up Here
There was a reason that Satoru spent quiet afternoons under the soft sun immersed in sketching.
Drawing was what he considered to be his favorite hobby and his only real skill. He enjoyed it. Immensely, in fact. Drawing required little to no interaction with others on his part – there was no danger of embarrassing himself or getting into risky situations (or at least somehow being pulled into one). It came to him almost naturally, simply fueled by the desire of wanting to depict what he saw, or sometimes things that only existed in his mind's eye. Of what little things he was sure about, his decision to join the art club was a right one.
Satoru had never been particularly fond of baseball. He may have watched a game or two with his dad, who could really get into it sometimes, but it just wasn't something he could see himself becoming passionate about.
And so, Satoru knew right away when he found himself watching a baseball game from the art club classroom's window that it wasn't the game he was into. What caught his eye and had him staring hard out at the dugout that day was the ace of the team, Keigo Tamiya.
Satoru had to wonder if the aura of 'coolness' he saw emanating from Tamiya was something of his imagination.
Satoru watched mesmerizingly, with sparkling eyes (though not of the literal sort), as Tamiya fixed an expression of complete concentration onto his face. He positioned himself on the mound and stared straight forward, focused, nodding when he received the catcher's signals. His uniform pressed tight against his body as he threw the ball, a small smirk upon his lips. The way Satoru could barely keep his eyes off Tamiya the entire game made him squirm in his seat and his cheeks flush.
Being so high up Satoru couldn't see every little detail, but he could imagine…and imagine he did. He imagined drops of sweat flying off Tamiya's forehead as he pitched, then a hand shooting up to wipe the stray drops from trickling down his face, dust rising up from his feet as they scraped against the surface of the dirt mound.
And soon, Satoru's hand was racing across the page, sketching as quickly as he could, sketching before he forgot, sketching a sight he didn't want to forget.
That would be Satoru's very first sketch of Keigo Tamiya, the very first of many, many to come.
