Miyuki Kazuya: "Nice pitch, Nori."
Kawakami Norifumi: "Where's the rest of it? It feels unsettling to hear you compliment."
-Diamond no Ace, season one.
Cogitations and Insomnia
Most active baseball players had no problem sleeping. After all, games were taxing, and practice was even harder.
Most simply passed out in the evenings from sheer exhaustion.
This should be especially true for Miyuki, because, unbeknown to his teammates, he usually stayed up later than anyone else. Because during the hustle and bustle of the day there always seemed to be someone (mostly pitchers) needing something from him. Late into the night was practically the only time he could freely swing his bat, or quietly think up game plays and strategies.
Only afterwards would he, like most players, pass out into a deep slumber giving his weary body its much deserved rest. And yet sleep deprivation was something he was quite accustomed to. There always seemed to be something keeping him wide awake in contemplation.
For example, as a first year, he had been super excited to finally enter his dream school where he could challenge Takigawa Chris Yuu for the main catcher's position. He stayed up a lot coming up with ideas to achieve that goal. But as luck would have it, due to Chris's injury, he was quickly thrown into position he'd desired. It happened much sooner than he expected, and nowhere near the way he had wanted to achieve that honor. During that time, his hours of darkness had been spent pondering how to best fulfill the position he'd inherited from his self-categorized rival cum role model. However, he quickly realized, that quality sleep was key to enhancing his performance.
Ironically, by the time he came to that conclusion, sleep became difficult because his room had somehow become a haven for the rambunctious upperclassman. When he wasn't massaging Jun-san's feet, he was playing shogi with Tetsu-san. Even Kuramochi and Masuko would come to his room; the former to play video games with Miyuki's roommate, and the latter to hang out until he eventually fell asleep, in Miyuki's bed, no less.
Those nights were hard. It was always during training camp where his fatigue was at its peak.
But as a cocky first year on the first-string team, he figured it was probably the senpais' way of hazing him and/or putting him in his place. Later, it occurred to him that, somehow, they seemed to genuinely be having fun.
He couldn't understand why it had to be in his room, though.
As the main catcher, he simply focused on doing his job as best as he could. The team also trained well. He was found himself about to reach his other goal: nationals.
The only thing standing in his way was beating Insashiro…and Narumiya Mei. So many nights leading to that game, and the subsequent ones after their loss, had been filled with thoughts of defeating that impregnable team.
They lost his first year. In his second year, he had his hands full with two new pitchers: Sawamura and Furuya, in addition to working with the now senior Tanba and his contemporary Kawakami. Tanba didn't like him, that much he knew. He tried to at least maintain a civil relationship with him, and gain his trust so that he could bring out the best in him. He got along well with Kawakami, but no matter how much Miyuki praised his control, the fellow second year had a chronic issue with self-confidence. It really was a shame.
On the other hand, the two first year pitchers, despite having terrible control, were way too confident, obsessed, even, with becoming the Ace. As fate would have it, their zeal turned out to be useful. What, with Tanba's injury and preparing to face Inashiro once again in the finals, it could even be said that the best sleep he got was thanks to Sawamura or Furuya. When they weren't exhausting him as a catcher, he had them take care of the seniors who, by this point, had completely turned his room into their main hang out spot. Leaving them in the hands of a happy Furuya and irate Sawamura, his sleep schedule stabilized, somewhat. That is, until the team, once again, lost to Inashiro, and he was made new captain.
Kazuya was already reeling with his new responsibilities. In addition, Sawamura's control was infinitely worse, and the new team was lacking in batting power. He didn't want to deal with Kawakami's depression on top of everything. Besides which, it was his credo to maintain a healthy distance from his teammates' problems. As a catcher he usually had more than enough to deal with having to maintain his pitcher's psyches. And having never been lacking in motivation, he truly believed that people had to sort out their feelings on their own.
It's how he always lived.
It's up to him to get over it. We can't do anything about it.
That's what he had said to Ono, when he'd commented on Nori's poor form.
But Miyauchi-senpai had scolded him, giving him a wake-up call.
"How can you be so cold like that. Not everyone is strong like you. You have to help him get over it, new Captain!"
The senior's words stayed with him. He even made a fielding error in practice. After that he decided to focus on training and wait to see if maybe Nori could get over his problem on his own. He didn't. His performance got worse and worse. The coach used him less and for a while the pitchers' relay consisted solely of Furuya and Sawamura.
Meanwhile, Insahiro won the semifinals at nationals. While watching that game, Miyuki approached Nori.
"If they've made it this far, let's see it through until the end. So that we'll never forget how we felt that time," he'd said, trying to get it across to the pitcher that he wasn't the only one regretting his performance.
Jun-san also scolded them all, telling Miyuki and his co-captains to be good examples, and yelling at Kawakami to stop being so gloomy. He dressed him down, then picked him up, telling him that he still had one more year to play so he should look forward and stop letting the first years walk all over him. Miyuki felt grateful. Especially since he still felt at a loss on how to help the sidearm pitcher.
After Insahiro's loss at nationals, the two first years were more motivated than ever. By that point Miyuki had decided to face Nori's problem as a catcher, and not as a captain.
He asked him to pitch in game-simulated batting practice.
"I want the batters to be able to hit cleanly today. You can go a little easy on the control, but I need strong, live pitching."
Miyuki hoped that maybe asking Nori to help would allow him to regain his confidence.
"Just between you and me, I can't ask the fist-years to something so hard. Okay?"
"Okay, I'll try," Kawakami had said, pleased at being depended on.
"Thanks. I'm counting on you."
The new captain wasn't sure if it worked, but seeing the sidearm pitcher smile for the first time in a long time felt good.
Then he discovered, in game, no less, that Sawamura had the yips. He couldn't pitch to the inside anymore.
Seeing Sawamura break down hit him hard.
Miyuki felt doubly responsible. Not only had he not noticed the pitcher's problem, he had actually caused it. The dead ball that caused Sawamura's yips had, after all, been Miyuki's fault. He hadn't noticed how tense Sawamura had been when he was pitching to Insashiro. If he had given him a time out, calmed him down, Sawamura wouldn't have made such a drastic error. One that had such far-reaching consequences.
The catcher's mind actively searched for ways to help Sawamura, even as his deceptively indifferent attitude pissed off Kuramochi. He'd later concluded that since the southpaw couldn't pitch to the inside like he used to, Sawamura should focus instead on pitching to the outside corners. But Miyuki knew Sawamura wouldn't want to hear it from him. He enlisted Chris-senpai's help, knowing the first-year pitcher respected (and liked) him more and would therefore listen to him better than he would to Miyuki.
It was just another in what would be a long list of Miyuki's failures.
The team still lacked scoring power, and wasn't meshing too well. Kazuya was becoming increasingly worried when coach Ochiai joined them. The fact that the school brought in someone from the outside was suspicious, and Miyuki's misgivings turned real when he found out that this would be their coach's last season.
The rest of the team had been shocked, but to their captain, the news actually helped reinforce his goal. They wanted to make it to nationals. That was a given. But keeping the coach from leaving the school served as further reinforce that goal. Both to him, and his teammates.
He had always spoken freely; had even said in his inauguration speech that he won't be mincing words. But, somehow, when he became Captain it felt like a muzzle had been placed on his mouth. The threat of the coach's departure removed it and he started giving notes, left and right, to all the players.
The team got better. They got stronger and came together under the goal of keeping the coach at their school. But even as they won, he couldn't get over the feeling that they weren't good enough.
The new opinionated coach concurred, casually saying Miyuki was unfit to be captain and that they would eventually lose.
"I'm honestly very disappointed. I though you could analyze your own team's strength, but maybe I gave you too much credit. Or is your position as captain clouding your judgement. You're just not suited to be the captain. I bet you actually find it a burden."
Having someone see right through him, and echo his own doubts had been harrowing. He felt absolutely naked. Worse, still, Nabe who had been there had heard everything. Somehow he'd kept his composure and even co-operated with Ochiai to teach Sawamura his new breaking ball, the change up. If it made the team better, he'd gladly endure anything.
There had also been a bit of a power struggle between him and Maezono. The co-captain's opinions differed completely from Miyuki's on what should and should not be said to the players.
But Miyuki held his ground this time.
No way he would he put the muzzle back on.
Not when they had games to win.
Not when those games decided how long he and his teammates could play together.
He'd never admit it, but he missed the seniors. He was therefore in no hurry to end his season and lose the chance to continue playing with the rest of his teammates.
But Maezono's was just as merciless in his views, and his persistence had Miyuki questioning his own.
Insomnia had practically becoming a friendly companion at that point.
But not a single wakeful night went to waste. Kazuya utilized the time well to strategize around the different pitchers the team had. And practice his batting even more.
He also had a talk with the previous Captain, Tetsu-san. It invigorated him. Miyuki also came to terms with the fact that he didn't need to do everything on his own. For all their disagreements, Maezono was good at keeping the team's spirit up. And when Furuya's foot got injured, it was Kudo and Higashio who had noticed. The catcher had felt bitterly disappointed in himself for not realizing his pitcher's pain, but he was just grateful that someone did before it got too bad.
His first year as Captain served him with plenty of food for thought. He had to face himself both as a leader and as human. But knowing that he had such reliable teammates helped a lot.
The semifinal had shown him just how wonderfully dependable all the pitchers had become. He hadn't planned on hitting a home run, he just hit as hard and as best as he could, wanting to pay the pitchers back for their performance.
They won. They would continue winning.
But he was in pain. Injured.
That had been the worst night.
He kept his condition from everyone, not wanting to burden the team before the final. But he had been so very worried, he actually resorted to the calming effect of pain meds to help him sleep that night. He already had a handicap with his injury, he couldn't add sleepiness into the equation.
Kuramochi, however, as sharp eyed as ever, found out and confronted him right before the game. Somehow, the shortstop's words gave him courage. But when he continued failing to perform as clean-up, the rest of the team and coach figured it out as well. Miyuki tried to remain calm when he was confronted, and even told the coach to feel free to take him out of the game, despite every fiber of his being recoiling against the thought. to his relief, he was allowed to continue playing, and the team had won by the skin of their teeth. They got a ticket to Koshien, and the coach remained. They had achieved their goal as a team. They even did well at Nationals. At the beginning of his third year, he felt more confident than ever in his role, in his team. Things had been looking good. But the calm was short-lived.
Furuya kept seeking greater heights, only to lose himself in the process. Miyuki had wanted to trust that he would figure out the uselessness of him spinning around in circles. He even went so far as to tease him about it, telling him that Sawamura will eventually take his place as starter. The Ace needed to wake up from his useless stupor, and Miyuki had wanted to acknowledge Sawamura's growth too. He said it to encourage them both.
In reality, however, despite all the hard work Sawamura put it, Miyuki never thought he was ready to take the ace number until the younger boy proved it on the field. He had similarly misjudged Furuya. Kazuya truly respected Furuya's thoughtfulness and sense of responsibility. It was something he definitely felt he could use more of. But he never thought it would cause so much harm. So eager was he to believe in Furuya's ability to overcome his demons, that Kazuya failed to notice the incredible strain he was facing. It led to him breaking his form and injuring his back. It had bee a huge shock to the team, and Miyuki especially. At the time, he couldn't do anything for Furuya, much less say anything to him after that.
Unlike his co-captain.
"We may seem unreliable to you, but none of us are satisfied with our performance in the spring! There's no need to bear everything alone!"
As always, Maezono always knew exactly what to say. It was admirable, really.
What would it take to be able to communicate honestly like that?
Miyuki was so impressed by Maezono's zeal that he attempted to emulate it.
He wanted to be more encouraging and honest. He had been trying to for a long time, actually.
But every single one of his attempts was met with skepticism.
When asked what professional team he wanted to join, he had replied from his heart.
"The only thing I'm thinking about is getting to Koshien stadium with you guys. Everything else can wait until after that. "
"When did you become such a model student?" Kuramochi had asked.
"I think he's lying." Kawakami had added.
Even Nabe, whom, he thought his relationship with had come a long way…
"That's what you say as the captain. But what are you really thinking?"
…hadn't believed him.
It had irked Miyuki. Especially since he had been honest.
"What do you want me to say?"
But he told himself it didn't really matter.
Furuya was recovering, both from his injury and from his slump. Sawamura was playing beautifully and earned the Ace number. They were winning all their games. Koshien was no longer the dream. It was a stepping stone to something bigger. He wanted to win it. He wanted to conquer the nation with this team. He truly believed they could. With this coach. With these teammates. And he wanted to enjoy every second he could with them.
He truly cherished every one of them.
And with that in mind, he headed to Tokyo Senbatsu, eagerly looking forward to gleaning as much as he could from their competitors.
But while he was gone, Ono was injured.
The hits just kept coming.
Miyuki forced himself to look on the bright side. Again.
Because Ono was incapacitated, two new catchers were added to the roster. Yui and Okumura were both incredibly bright boys and helped with the catching responsibilities. Sawamura and Furuya also seemed to take his advice to heart too and practiced with the first years as much as possible.
But now, this time, it was Nori who was injured.
Making lemonade out of the lemons life kept throwing at them suddenly seemed too hard.
In fact, it was almost seemed impossible at this point.
The worst part was that the injury was probably due to how hard Kawakami had been training.
In every match, he unfailingly warmed up to get ready to receive the pitching baton. And when it was his turn, he performed perfectly. His newfound consistency as a closer had been invaluable, especially considering Furuya's fluctuating performance. He was good and, as always, Miyuki told him so. Quite recently too, in fact.
But once again his words had been met with disbelief.
"That was a great pitch! The course was good, too."
"Really?"
It was only when he saw the audience's admiration that Nori felt happy.
"I've been complimenting you too, you know." Miyuki had asked, actually feeling miffed.
"He knows your heart's not into it," was the answer Kuramochi had given.
Once more, Kazuya's feelings didn't get through, and again, he let it go.
Because trying to convince his team that he could be genuine was too troublesome. Especially since he had no idea how to go about doing it.
It doesn't matter anyway; he had told himself. It was enough that Kawakami was doing well.
At least, that was what Miyuki had thought.
He had been wrong.
So very wrong.