Hopelessly Devoted

An Ookiku Furikabutte Fanfiction

Chapter 10: His First Time

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Mihashi had not wanted to wake up. He wished that the sun would rise and fall again and he, tucked away into a neat, miserable pile, would be none the wiser to the new day. Yet here he was, sunlight streaming through with window in a painfully glorious way that made him a tiny bit more bitter, air thick and dull, and he wished now that he could die in any number of ways– gentle or gruesome, he wasn't picky– so that he wouldn't have to go to practice. He ran his palm over his stomach absently and curled up into a ball facing his alarm clock.

It was 6:30ish, so time was running out. Practice wasn't until 8:00 since there was no school today, but it was impending just the same. Mihashi picked up the note again, a new emotion rising into his lungs. "Left when the trains started running- practice today. Feel better!" This new feeling was quick and sharp like a well-kept switchblade, and would be tucked away again in less than a minute, but now, while he had it open in his hand, he narrowed his eyes and said aloud,

"Fuck you, Kanou."

There's something sharp inside Mihashi, buried under years of trauma at the hands of middle school teammates, so it's fitting that it was one of those teammates who was responsible for bringing it just a little bit closer to the surface.

To his distress, Mihashi was unable to find a way to off himself in the next hour (not that he'd been trying that hard, honestly,) and at 7:30, he was face to face with his door and a giant mess of resignation. Slave to routine, he shouted "I'm leaving now," though to no one in particular.

He was happy enough that the first person he saw on the way was Sakaeguchi– considering the best case scenario was not seeing anyone, which wasn't happening– as he was the most pleasant. Sakaeguchi lifted his hand to greet Mihashi, but put it back down without a word when he caught the look on Mihashi's downcast face. Always a good interpreter, they walked the rest of the way to school in silence, an understanding between them. As they walked, Mihashi wondered if there was still a train he could jump in front of before he had to face Abe.

Incidentally, there were no trains on their route.

°o°o°o°o°o°

That dread was a conflict of interests with the catcher, it turned out, as Abe could not get out of his house fast enough, desperate to see Mihashi's face again. The 24 hours of tanabata had been a little too much for him (and Tajima had been no help there, turning hours into days,) and part of him needed to know that his pitcher was still alive and well. He was second only to Hanai, who was always first for obvious captain-related reasons.

Everything went downhill the moment Mihashi arrived.

It started when Abe called to him from across the pitch as he entered the gates. Mihashi looked up at Abe for only a second before turning to Sakaeguchi, who might have looked concerned, he couldn't really tell from this distance, and they walked on, ignoring him.

Heart rising high into his chest, Abe whipped around to see if anyone else had noticed what he thought he had just seen. Hanai had, but he was pretending to not have noticed, so without corroborator, Abe thought maybe he was just going crazy.

"Mihashi!" he called again, starting into a weak jog over to the pair. Immediately, Sakaeguchi stepped in front of Mihashi, and when Abe approached, he said, in his best calm voice, "I need to- borrow Mihashi- for a moment Abe-kun, so, I'll return him...soon..." and he grabbed Mihashi by the arm and tugged him away to the dugout. Abe was left dejected, mouth hanging wide open as he watched the two flee. Mihashi hadn't even tried to make eye contact. Even Hanai couldn't help but to stare this time, now in the company of Suyama, Tajima, Kumai and both Mizutanis.

Something was seriously wrong. Was he hurt? Or sick? Abe wondered. Was he worried that Abe would yell at him? He thought they were past that. While wondering what he should do, he was already walking towards Mihashi.

"You can't avoid him, Mihashi, he's the catcher," Sakaeguchi said to Mihashi, who was trembling and clutching his sides.

"Mihashi, I'll go-" Tajima started, but his voice fell flat when he saw Hanai walking toward Abe first.

"Did something happen last night?" Sakaeguchi pried.

Mihashi wasn't entirely sure how to respond, because yes, something did, but no, that wasn't really all of it, or even most of it.

"H...Hanai, what...?" Abe stammered, steps slowing as the captain approached.

"I think you need to hang back for a minute," he said, "I think Mihashi needs a little space."

"W..what?" Abe stammered.

"Mihashi," Tajima said, cutting in, "What happened?"

Mihashi clutched his stomach, feeling ill. Something painful was rising inside him. He was afraid that if it got out, someone would get hurt.

"Just hang on for a minute," Hanai said.

Abe grew exponentially furious by the second.

"What's going on?" He shouted, "What's wrong with Mihashi?"

Mihashi doubled over, sliding onto the ground.

"Are you sick?" Tajima asked.

It was at that moment that Shino'oka appeared, frozen by the gate as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

"Just relax," Hanai said.

"Relax?" Abe said, fiercely. He tried to step around Hanai, who shifted his feet to block him.

"Just hang on," Hanai urged, lifting a hand to Abe's chest. This was the one thing he would not take, tough, being touched by Hanai, and he shoved the captain, stomping towards the ever growing cocoon around the pitcher.

As Hanai shook, furiously and fruitlessly, Shino'oka got up the courage to run to him.

"What..." she asked, trailing off when the look in Hanai's eyes told her he had no idea better than she did.

Abe tore through the pile of people, successful only because Tajima was on the wrong side of the huddle. There, trembling in a pile at his feet, was Mihashi, holding on to his stomach and maybe heaving.

There was a split second where he had to choose between two emotions- heartbroken, in which he could fall next to his pitcher, embrace him and cry with him, and fearful, which usually resulted in him yelling.

He picked the wrong one, for the first time in a long time.

"Mihashi! What's going on?" he demanded.

Mihashi wondered that himself, for a moment. The scenario was wrong. He should have been able to feel miserable with guilt. That was easy enough. He should have been able to fall over at his catcher's feet, crying and begging for forgiveness for cheating on Abe. That would have been fine. Self-pity and apologies were well-known and well-practiced concepts for Mihashi, and he could handle prostration and begging.

But why should he feel guilty for cheating on someone who didn't even love him in the first place?

"Did someone do something to you Mihashi?"

Mihashi looked up at the catcher, eyes shifting from fear to something else entirely and the sharp blade rose to the surface of his heart.

"You did," Mihashi said squarely.

"W...what..." Abe said, stepping back unconsciously.

But Mihashi did not repeat himself. Instead he stood up, shoved Tajima out of his way with ceremony, and walked off, feet heavy.

"I'm not feeling well and I'm going home," Mihashi said.

All eyes lingered, half accusingly and half fearful, on Abe.

You did good things, and amazing things, and things that made me feel wanted, Mihashi thought, tears coming hard as he pushed through the gate.

But then you took them away. You took them away, and I can handle not being your pitcher, Abe, but I can't...

Mihashi's thoughts blurred as he made his way off the grounds, his vision following suit as the tears came too fast.

He put a hand to his face and choked on the sob, hard, leading to a deep, soundless gasp- the sob that comes when one's chest is about to explode with agony but there's no where for the impact to go- and then he shuddered into a sudden violent cough and gasp of distressed, moaning cries. He huddled behind a tree, so near the exit of the school, but unable to make the last six meters out.

He pawed at his belly fruitlessly as he heaved- painful, silent sobs with long gasps for want of oxygen- but he couldn't fish the feeling out. It was tight and heavy, and it was anger. He didn't like it, he didn't like being mad at Abe, he didn't like avoiding him, and being curt with him, and walking away from him.

But damnit. Mihashi gave Abe all of himself. Trusted him with his every move, and his whole heart, and he didn't realize it until Abe shoved it back into his shaking, bloody hands. Now he had this retching heart, outside of his chest with nowhere to go, growing bitter, growing angry, growing so tired.

He sobbed until his lungs hurt too much to cry any longer. He grew weak, and still, save tiny, hitching gasps that jarred the stillness.

He fell asleep there, tired and desperate and exhausted from being angry for the first time.

°o°o°o°o°o°

"What's going on?" Momoe demanded, eyes piercing straight into Abe's.

"I don't know!" Abe shrieked, "I didn't do anything, no one will tell me what's happening!"

"Mihashi ran out of here crying, Abe. Everyone's looking at you with some pretty hard glares, so you better speak up. We can take this in private if you want, but I'm getting answers. We need that pitcher."

"I don't know," Abe wailed, his own tears coming now. "I swear to God I don't, he wouldn't even look at me, let alone tell me what was going on! Please, believe me!"

Abe was coming apart at the seams. And Hanai had seen this coming from a mile away, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

For what seemed like ages, Abe was convinced that Mihashi depended on him. Needed him to function. Would fall apart if Abe was taken away from him. He thought Mihashi was a little clingy, but that was cute. Silly Mihashi. And yeah, he was been weaned of dependence on Abe as a catcher but, he was still... well, he was still something right? It didn't make sense for Mihashi to walk out on Abe of his own accord. That just defied nature! Went against all he knew! All that was right in the world, where Abe, strong and firm, kept Mihashi tucked tight under his wing, safe from harm. Mihashi needed him.

Didn't he?

Abe was completely unaware that he was sobbing into his hands in a pile on the ground of the dugout, teammates looking on, fearful.

Momoe ordered the team to take the field, and Chiyo to go run a cold wet towel and some water. The coach sat down on the bench, waiting patiently for Abe to recover.

Mihashi's trust was the most amazing gift he had ever been given. It was for that feeling that he cherished Mihashi. He didn't think he could stand having that taken away from him. He certainly wasn't doing a very good job of it at this very moment.

"Abe-kun? Can you stand yet?" Momoe asked quietly.

He shook his head, breathing still hitched. "I don't think I can ever move my legs again," he whispered.

Momoe sighed gently. "It hurts a lot the first time, doesn't it?"

Abe blinked back his tears and looked up. "M...Momokan?"

She put a hand on his shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze. She took the wet towel from Chiyo and patted Abe's face, the cloth cool against his skin.

She knew a lot, and part of knowing a lot meant she knew what not to say. She knew that as boys grew up into men, their personalities broadened with their bodies, making room for new emotions along with new muscles. Abe and Mihashi were a strange, mismatched pair, and she knew that from the beginning. More trouble then they were worth, it seemed. Mihashi had learned to fight today, if even just a little. Learned to protect himself from being hurt- something he'd never tried to do, happy to take all of the abuse and blame to heart in the past. But Abe? Abe had learned to fight long ago, thanks to Haruna. What he needed to learn was how to show his love. As she had said before, he was dependant on his anger. He didn't know the proper way to show affection.

But she couldn't say all of that. They needed to learn it face to face, or else they would not learn it at all.

"I think you should go home," she said, with a smile. She nudged him a little, urging him to look at her.

"Are you sure...coach?"

"Yes. Here," and she stood up, lifting him by his arms.

He shuddered as the feeling returned to his legs, and he grabbed on to her shirt with a scared, trembling fist. And then he stood there for a second, looking at her face, then looking down at his hand grasping tight at the waist of her shirt, thinking about how pathetic he must look, hanging on like a child. She gave him a warm grin and the next thing he knew, he was wrapped up tight in her arms. He let himself go limp again, and she whispered, "This is how you do it, Abe-kun." There was no understanding of what she was talking about at the moment, but his body would file away the sensation for future use subconsciously. She pulled him away and nodded, knowingly. He nodded back sheepishly, and went out to fetch his things and go home.

"Get moving!" she shouted at the players, who were very much not moving, too busy gossiping and speculating.

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Abe didn't want to face his mother when he got home, and luckily, she was out shopping when he arrived. He fell into bed fully clothed and dirty and miserable. Mihashi wouldn't arrive at his own home for another hour, after he woke with a start when some unknown freshman from the volleyball team asked if he was okay.

Mihashi didn't know what to do. He only made it a few feet into his room before he collapsed on the floor. He fingered the phone in his pocket, thoughtful. That would be silly, he thought. He couldn't call Abe. What would he say? besides, Abe would still be at practice. He sat up and flipped open the tiny silver electronic. Maybe that would be to his benefit? He could send a message now, and Abe would get it when practice was over.

He wouldn't say he was sorry, because he wasn't. He was firm on this point.

So he decided to be honest, and typed, with shaking fingers, "I don't know what to do."

Pressing the send button ceremoniously, he exhaled, and crawled up to his bed, flopping onto it.

It was only a second later when it buzzed back at him.

He flipped it over, fearful, and read, "Me neither."

The two of them, in completely different places, shared a single sentiment. They clutched their phones to their chests and wept, thanking God that they were still connected. That the other was still there, waiting. Listening.

After about twenty minutes, when Mihashi had almost dozed off, it buzzed again.

"Can we talk? I don't know what to say, but I won't yell."

Mihashi's throat grew dry and tight.

He was conflicted, but above all, he knew that he did want to see Abe, more than anything. So he agreed.

"My house? Door will be open."

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End of Chapter 10.

The final chapter of part one, 10-2,will be next.

Chapter 10-2: Tobira wo Akete