Chapter Thirty-seven: Miyuki's Postlude

~ This takes place after chapter 32 and just before chapter 1. ~

"Are you sure about this?" Wearing a troubled expression, the doctor drummed his fingers on his desk. "As I told you earlier over the phone, it's a highly new, high-stakes procedure. You'd be better putting it off until it's undergone further testing."

"And how long will that take?" Kazuya asked.

"…at least another 10 years, would be my conjecture," Dr. Seo admitted. Taking off his glasses, he directed a piercing gaze at Kazuya. "You do understand the possible consequences? Should we encounter any complications during the procedure, you could become completely paralyzed…or worse. Fatality is not out of the question here."

He got up. "The end of July, right?"

The doctor sighed. "Very well. However, considering the level of risk surrounding this operation, I strongly recommend that you alert all loved ones about this decision."

During class, Kazuya always sat in the middle of the lecture hall. Too close to the front, and he thought he could feel the professor's eyes on him. Too far back, and he'd have to stop for a breather before reaching his seat.

He didn't have friends, really. There were faces Kazuya recognized in several of his classes, and they'd more or less greet each other. However, since he wasn't part of a circle and he rarely went out with anyone on Fridays, that was about the extent of his relationships with his classmates. It wasn't an altogether uncommon situation in college and in some ways, he thought to himself, it wasn't too different from how he'd spent high school.

Sometime in late spring, just as the professor had taken to the lectern, one such acquaintance—a guy with messy brown hair named Saitō, if he recalled correctly—threw himself into the seat next to Kazuya.

"Hey…Miyuki-san, right? Would you happen to have the notes from yesterday?" he asked in a hushed, pleading tone. "I just couldn't get myself out of bed, would you believe it."

Kazuya showed him his binder—which was blank, except for the underlined words 'Public Policy' and beside that, the date.

After a beat, Saitō looked up and nodded solemnly. "That'll do. That'll do."

"Miyuki-san!"

Hefting his bag higher up his shoulder, Kazuya turned around. "What's up?"

Flashing a bright smile, Saitō held out his cellphone—an older flip model that Kazuya instantly recognized. "Can I get your mail address?"

Kazuya raised a scandalized hand to his mouth. "Are you that way?"

He grinned. "A group of us get together sometimes to go out. Y'know, just having fun. You seem like a cool guy—I'd like to invite you along, is all."

With a shrug, Kazuya pointed his phone at Saitō's to transfer his info, and after a few seconds, his phone beeped with a new message. Immediately, Saitō turned around and crowed towards someone in the back of the classroom—"Erika-chan, you'll come to our next mixer now, won't you?"

"Saitō-kun!" came a female voice, sounding flustered.

It turned out that they both took the train to get to campus, so occasionally, they walked the road to the station together.

"I'm just saying—is it illegal if I'm in my own bathroom?"

"It sure sounds illegal."

Saitō sighed. "That's what I thought." Folding his arms behind his head, he gave a sidling glance at Kazuya. "Oh yeah—I've been meaning to ask, you wanna join us tomorrow? We're going to an izakaya after class."

"Is Matsumoto-san going to be there?"

"Erika-chan? No."

"Alright then."

Saitō raised an eyebrow. "What? D'you have a girlfriend already or something? You can tell me."

"No, nothing like that. I'm just not interested."

"Oh, okay," Saitō said, looking relieved for some reason. They fell silent, until they entered the station building and Saitō pointed at a vending machine. "Hey, aren't you thirsty? What d'you want? I'll treat you."

Scanning the selection, Kazuya was about to state his usual—but catching sight of something, he changed his mind. "I'll get a ramune then. The orange-flavor."

Pressing the button, Saitō made a face. "You like that? I think it's kinda gross."

Clatter!

"Yeah," said Kazuya, bending over to pick it up from the dispenser.

After going their separate ways, he was waiting on the platform for his train when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Wondering whether it was Saitō again, he took it out. Looking at the caller ID, he felt his lips draw back in a smile. "Hello?"

The air was thick with smoke from the grill and the sounds of animated voices. At their table, however, the conversation had winded down, leaving only a single piece of beef that everyone had politely refused to take. Soon, with a clatter, they all pushed their chairs back to go—that is, all except for one.

Kazuya shook his shoulder. "Oi, it's time to go."

"I really didn't mean to do it," Saitō sobbed, pounding a fist down on the table. "I just wanted a hot dog! How was I supposed to know the baby was on the grill too?!"

"You...wait, what?"

"Ignore him, he's talking about a game," said a girl beside them.

Saitō vigorously shook his head. "S'not just a game! It's a lifestyle!"

It was a good thing, Kazuya thought to himself, that he hadn't taken a certain person's life advice and gotten into video games.

It was around halfway through June that Kazuya had an unexpected visitor. He had just finished his last classes for the day, when all of a sudden, he heard an amused voice call out his name.

"Miyuki!" He looked up to see Saitō grinning from the hall's doorway. Saitō jabbed a thumb backwards. "Your boyfriend's looking for you."

In the middle of adjusting his bag strap, Kazuya blinked. "My what?"

With a shrug, Saitō led him to the window. Almost immediately, he spotted an all too familiar figure standing outside next to the bicycle racks, holding up a cardboard sign that read 'Miyuki Kazuya' in big screaming letters.

"S'that why you always turn me down when I invite you to mixers?" Saitō teased, lightly punching Kazuya on the shoulder. "Man, it's okay, I don't judge."

"Idiot, that's my kōhai from high school," he replied.

"Your high school? You mean he came all the way here from Tokyo?"

But Kazuya had already left.

Hurrying down the stairs as fast as he could—a speed which could only generously have been termed power walking—Kazuya felt his brow furrow in thought. The summer regionals were coming up. So what the hell was Seidō's captain doing here at his college campus? It took almost three hours to get here on the Hokuriku line from Tokyo. It wasn't as though he could've just waltzed over for a quick visit during his lunch break.

For a split second, Kazuya wondered whether there was another Miyuki Kazuya on campus—but pushing through the glass doors out onto the courtyard, streaked in red from the glow of the sunset, he felt his last misgivings give way.

Before he could open his mouth to call out his name, the brown-haired figure turned around. His face brightening, he lowered the sign and began to run toward Kazuya, who slowed down to a less punishing pace. "Miyuki-senpai!"

"Oi, Sawamura," Kazuya called out, trying to hide how out of breath he was. "What're you doing here? Don't you have practice?"

His excitement visibly fading away, Sawamura skidded to a stop. His gaze shifted. "It was, uh, cancelled today."

"Cancelled," Kazuya repeated. "Right. A month before the summer regionals, and…they cancelled practice. Was the field on fire?"

"It might've been," Sawamura said huffily. But taking a look at Kazuya's expression, his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Okay fine. I'm skipping today. Just so you know, I did properly tell the coach, and both Kanemaru and Harucchi are still there. And, well..."

Suddenly, Saitō's voice chimed in at his shoulder, "So you're Miyuki's kōhai?"

Looking eager to change the topic, Sawamura nodded his head. "Yes! My name is Sawamura Eijun. I'm from Nagano and my blood type is type O!" He bowed. "Nice to meet you!"

"Nagano, huh?" Saitō grinned easily. "I'm from Iida."

Sawamura's eyes lit up. "Chikuma here!"

"Ahh, Chikuma... that's kinda far. I've only gone once as a kid, to pick fruits."

"In the summer right? Apricot Village?"

"Yeah! Man, even now I think those were the best apricots I've ever tasted."

Kazuya, who hadn't even known Saitō was from Nagano, watched as they jabbered away for several more minutes in an exchange which finally culminated in the two making a promise to visit Hawaii together.

"Lemme get your mail address?" Saitō flipped out his cellphone, and Sawamura immediately took his out as well. "Hey, we've got the same phone! Sweet!" Once that was done, Saitō swung an arm around Sawamura's shoulders. "You seem like a cool guy. Say...I was gonna invite Miyuki over anyways, but if you guys don't have any plans, you wanna come out with us?"

"Oi, oi..." Kazuya started, but Saitō put up a hand.

"A couple of us are hitting up a karaoke box, and well, you know." Saitō winked. "The more the merrier."

"Sawamura needs to get back to Tokyo – "

"Sounds fun!" Sawamura broke in loudly.

"Great, that's settled then!"

Identical grins stretched across their faces, Saitō and Sawamura turned to face Kazuya. He felt himself sweat.

Keeping in mind a college student's budget, they'd all crammed into the single dimly-lit room. Blindingly bright strobe lights flashed in time with the music. Somehow, Kazuya found himself wedged on a couch between Saitō and a female student from a different college.

As two others sang a duet in front of the room, he noticed the girl sitting across from them leaning towards Sawamura.

"So Sawamura-kun, which college are you from?"

"I can't hear you, sorry," Sawamura said, shaking his head.

The girl moved in even closer, putting her mouth practically to his ear to repeat her question. With lively pop music blasting from the speakers around them, Kazuya had to lean in closer to listen.

Sawamura blushed. "Oh, uh, I'm still in high school."

"What, really? Aww!"

"Miho-chan's got a thing for younger guys," her friend grinned.

"Miyuki-kun?"

Putting his elbows down on the table, Saitō leaned forward. "You're from Seidō, like Miyuki, right? Were you on the same baseball team?"

Despite himself, Kazuya raised an eyebrow. He couldn't recall ever telling Saitō he'd played baseball. Had it slipped out one night after one too many beers? But that was unlikely, as he'd always made sure to stay within his limit.

"Yes, I'm the ace," Sawamura said, looking even more embarrassed. "But when Miyuki-senpai was on the team, I was just the relief."

"Miyuki-kun!"

Kazuya jerked to find the female student beside him wearing an indignant look. "Ah…sorry, what?"

She flashed a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What do you like to do in your free time?"

"Ah—watch TV, I guess," he said lamely.

"TV?" She laughed, as though he'd said something funny. "What about books?"

"Every now and then, sure." Magazines mostly, he admitted to himself.

"I was wondering whether you'd be the more intellectual type, but I guess not," she said teasingly.

Waving a hand as though to catch their attention, Saitō bent in front of them. "Of course not, he hangs out with me! What made you think that?"

"Well you know, the glasses. Or are they non-prescription?"

"No, my eyesight is pretty bad," Kazuya said. "But it's genetic."

"Genetic, huh?" She playfully brushed her fingers across his arm. "Who do you get that from?"

"My dad, I suppose."

"You suppose? You don't know?" She laughed again, and then brought her face closer to Kazuya's. In a lower voice, she asked, "Well, what about your looks? Has anyone ever told you you're quite the looker?"

He paused, thinking. "I might've heard it once or twice."

"Naomi-chan, Miyuki's got a girlfriend already," Saitō said loudly.

The coy expression fading from her face, the girl drew back. Looking sullen, she folded her arms across her chest. "Well of course he does. All the decent ones are always taken, I swear."

"Oh? Miyuki-senpai, when'd you get a girlfriend?" Kazuya looked across the table to see Sawamura staring at them with a slight flush to his face. His eyes darted down to a cup in the younger boy's hands. "Congratulations! I didn't know."

"Who gave the high schooler a drink?" he asked aloud.

Sawamura scowled. "You're underage too."

"Now, now, that's enough of that!" Saitō said hastily, jumping to his feet. "C'mon, who wants to sing the next song with me?"

When Kazuya returned from the bathroom, he found the karaoke box mostly emptied. They must have gone outside for a smoke, for there was still someone lying passed out on the floor in front of the monitor—and on the couch, was Sawamura, looking dourly down into his cup.

Striding forward, Kazuya tore the cup away. "Get up. You need to get back."

Sawamura didn't raise his head. "Your friends are nice. S'it fun being with them?" It seemed that when he was drunk, some of his original country-boy inflections returned to his speech.

"It is fun." Kazuya sighed, putting down the cup. "Sawamura, why did you come here? What were you thinking?"

"D'you know what someone said to me?" Sawamura said, ignoring him. "They said I should just wait. But the thing is...I don't wanna wait."

"Nobody told you to," said Kazuya. "Now get up."

"Make me," he grumbled.

In a flash of inexplicable anger, Kazuya grabbed the other boy by the collar and tried to push him back against the the couch. But as he realized too late, Sawamura was bigger and heavier than he'd used to be, and he himself was no longer who he once was. A throb of searing pain ran through his chest, and he let go of Sawamura, who fell back down with a thud.

His hand was trembling. Looking down at it, Kazuya clenched it into a fist so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

"Miyuki-senpai."

He turned. Sawamura had raised his head, and even in the dim lighting, Kazuya could tell that he was looking up at him in that way he'd been noticing for some time now. Seeing that, he felt the anger seep away as quickly as it'd come.

For years, he'd held back. But in that moment, something inside him snapped. Kazuya moved closer, stepping forward so that Sawamura's legs were between his. Reaching out with a hand against the couch, his gaze trailed down to the other boy's parted lips. He leaned his head forward, and then he was so close, he could feel Sawamura's breath on his mouth, heavy with the smell of nihonshu.

At that, he abruptly stopped, and reality crashed into place around him.

They were in a public karaoke box. The others could be coming back at any moment. And above all, this was Sawamura.

Kazuya inhaled sharply. What was he doing? He'd made up his mind, hadn't he?

He began to draw back—but suddenly, making an impatient sound, Sawamura grabbed his hand and jerked him back down. Before he'd quite understood what was going on, Sawamura pressed his lips against Kazuya's, and this time, he felt his eyes widen.

Several seconds later, the grip on his hand relaxed. Kazuya reared backwards. Sawamura was flushed pink—though how much of it was the alcohol's influence and how much of it was from something else, was unclear.

"Sawamura," he said, blinking. That was the only thing he could've said at that moment.

"It was about time," Sawamura mumbled. He sank down onto his back on the couch, and looked up at Kazuya with an unflinching expression. Opening his arms wide in a clear invitation, he said in a hard voice, "C'mon, senpai. I'm right here."

He must have been more affected by the alcohol than he'd thought. Or maybe after all this time, Sawamura had rubbed off on him more than he'd expected. With only a moment's hesitation, Kazuya joined him on the couch, his knees sinking into the plush on either side of the other boy's legs. Feeling Sawamura's heart pounding below his, he kissed him again, and again, and again, and Sawamura returned each one.

Naturally, after a short while, the front of his pants grew tight. He knew Sawamura must've noticed, because his eyes shot down.

"Sorry," Kazuya offered, wondering whether they were moving too quickly for the younger boy.

In response, Sawamura shifted, rubbing his lower body against him, and he thought, Guess not.

He didn't know how much time passed as they clumsily held each other on that couch in the karaoke box. It could've been ten minutes, it could've been an hour. At one point, the door opened, and a ray of light fell on their entangled figures.

"Oh shit," he heard Saitō's voice say, and the door clicked shut again.

"You're cheating on your girlfriend, y'know," Sawamura said into his mouth.

"She'll live," said Kazuya.

"I love you, y'know."

Instead of responding, he kissed Sawamura again.

That following Monday, Saitō tiptoed around Kazuya, and while it was amusing to watch his friend flinch every time their eyes met, the novelty quickly wore off.

"Yeah, I'm gay," he said. "Got anything to say about that?"

"No," Saitō said. He averted his gaze. "I wasn't kidding when I said I don't judge."

"Alright then."

There was a pause.

"Does your…err…boyfriend know?" Saitō shifted uncomfortably. "That you're…you know…getting the surgery."

"No."

"Oh," he said, and for a moment, Kazuya thought he looked rather happy.

Weeks passed. Summer reached its high point, the cloying heat causing his clothes to stick to his skin with sweat. Newspapers piled up on his desk.

Two days before the day of the summer regional finals, Kazuya checked into the hospital. For the first time in what felt like a long while, his father drove him in his car.

"When will you be released?" asked his father. He was looking straight ahead. Sitting in the back seat, Kazuya could only see his face through the rearview mirror, and even that was mostly hidden behind a pair of dark glasses.

"The doctor said that if all goes well, I'll spend at least a month in rehabilitation," he replied.

"I see."

He got out of the car and was about to close the door, when his father said, "Kazuya."

"Yeah?"

Though his father didn't turn his head to face him, Kazuya could see his fingers clenching tightly over the steering wheel. "Do you have to do this?"

He paused. "No. But I want to."

"That's what your mother said too," said his father.

He didn't respond.

The hospital room was as Kazuya remembered it. Cramped, with white walls and white ceilings, and the smell of antiseptic permeated his senses.

Lying back on his bed, he was somewhat reminded of the day in the dark karaoke box. A day that'd started like any other. A day of mistakes, perhaps. But while he still didn't know whether he regretted it or not, it was too late to take it back now, and he had no plans to try and do so.

Well, what about your looks?

When the girl had asked Kazuya that question, he'd been struck with a sudden realization. His father? His mother? What did they look like?

He didn't know. He couldn't remember.

Bzzzt bzzzt.

His phone began to vibrate. Letting it ring for a few times, Kazuya finally bent over and picked it up.

"Well, well," he said. "If it isn't the monster ace Sawamura. What could the esteemed second Narumiya want from me?"

The voice on the other end of the line snorted. "Very funny."

"Haha! I try."

"Have you ever considered going into stand-up comedy?"

He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Sadly, I fell five points short on the written portion."

There was a short pause. "Wait—there's actually an exam for it?"

"Never change, Sawamura."

He could sense the younger boy scowling even over the line. "I'm not like you."

A smile playing at his lips, Kazuya agreed. "You're right."

He wasn't an idiot like himself, for one.

"...You're coming to see us play, right?"

Taking his time, he answered lightly, "Of course." In the corner of his eye, he noticed that there was a digital clock on the night stand. He began to run his fingers over it. "Can you do it? Can you lead Seidō to Kōshien?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"I...I wish you were catching for me."

His hand dropping down to his side, Kazuya thought of all the things he could say. "Okumura is a good catcher."

The voice on the far end sounded perplexed. "I know that."

"I'll be watching tomorrow. Throw your best pitches."

"I will." The voice hesitated—and added, "I'll be throwing them to you in my mind."

With a laugh, Kazuya ended the call.

Dropping the phone by his side, he lay down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, and for a moment, everything was still.

When he could no longer take it, he tore his eyes away. Letting his gaze wander instead around the rest of the room—the bed's footboard, a solitary chair, the door—it came to a rest on the closed window beside the bed. He could see the day's last few rays of sunlight shining through. It was silent, except for the sound of his beating heart.

It'd been different then, he suddenly remembered. All the way back, a long time ago, when he hadn't been the one lying on the bed, but the one sitting beside it. He'd spent days, weeks, months there, oftentimes going for hours without speaking, and sometimes, his heart felt so loud, he'd wondered whether it was the only thing left of him.

But it'd been different in the summer. The windows had been wide open then. Sunlight had poured in on top of the bed. There'd been a frail, warm hand clasped below his. And everywhere, all around them, the sound of cicadas, filling the room with their piercing cries.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, Kazuya got to his feet. One step, and he was at the window. He pushed at it. At first, it didn't budge—a little stuck from lack of use, perhaps—but after a few more tries, it finally gave way and slid open. A warm breeze immediately wafted in his face, and like a distant memory stirring in the dust, he could hear it once again.

Minminminmin.

"That's what your mother said too."

Minminmin.

"I love you, y'know."

This noise... Thinking back, it'd been with him every summer evening when he'd thought he'd been alone in an empty house—he just hadn't realized it then. And while he hadn't been able to find the words he wanted to say before, they came to Kazuya now.

"Thank you," he said aloud.

Nobody responded, of course. But at the very least, he thought the cicadas must have been listening.

A/N: Saitō is an OC, and he won't be showing up again. One of the bantering lines between Saitō and Miyuki was a reference to the Free! parody "50% Off."