"Third. Your ears are tuned to his voice. You could pick him out in a sea of thousands. His voice makes pretty singers who sing pretty songs sound dull. His voice makes everything else sound ugly."


"Sawamura."

Miyuki's voice is quiet, too quiet to be heard from across the field above all the noise, especially in the middle of practice.

Eijun hears him anyway. He turns, sees the captain gesture for him to come over. He opens his mouth to retort, angrily, he isn't done with pitching, jerk, but then Miyuki adds, "Come here."

There's a smirk in his tone, not visible from where Eijun stands, but just as irritating as if he could see it.

It doesn't stop his body from moving, taking one quick step at a time, until he's right in front of Miyuki.

Eijun's eyes are fixed to him when he starts talking, his lips forming words, his voice rising and falling with each intonation. It forms a melody, enticing and beautiful to listen to, even if it comes at the price of smirks and shit-eating grins far too often.

It reels Eijun in every time, involuntarily, drawing his attention whenever it sounds – even if it's his irritation which is roused more often than not. He can't help it, can't help but respond. It's automatic and instinctive, embarrassingly so.

He knows every nuance of that voice by now, even if he doesn't like to admit it. It's unique and puts him under a spell, ever changing and something he never gets tired of hearing.

Miyuki's voice, despite all the sarcasm and snark it puts into words, is beautiful.

And maybe that's why Eijun has made it a priority to hound him for catching his pitches as often as he can. Not consciously, of course, never – who would want to put up with Miyuki aside from professional reasons?

Except, of course, he knows this is nothing game related. It may have started that way, but now – Eijun calls for Miyuki for more than one reason.

He always responds to him, even if it's more often a rejection than resigned approval.

It doesn't matter to him. He can always try again, and always will, tomorrow. Eijun won't get tired of hearing Miyuki's voice anyway.

His one-track mind has also gotten Eijun into trouble, though. As much attention as he pays Miyuki's voice, as fast as he responds to it, the slower he is and the harder he finds it to listen to anything else.

It's earned him more detentions and extra homework than he would have ever thought he'd get. It's gotten him countless laps around the field – all of which he never seems to finish because he keeps getting distracted.

Eijun can't help it. Miyuki's voice is a melody he never thought he'd hear, never thought he'd find as enchanting as he does. It's a strange but pleasant change from everything else – everything else which has become a background hum to its lead.

Yes, it has gotten Eijun into trouble – but he doesn't mind, not if he can keep hearing his new favourite song.