KAZUYA
A blaring hornlike sound jolts me awake. I felt the mattress underneath me shift and then creaking footsteps to turn off the loud noise.
"Sorry if I woke you," a deep voice said.
I blink open my eyes and sit up. "What time is it?" I mumble out and search for my glasses in this stranger's room.
I usually never stay the night with my hookups. On all accounts, I like to take them to my place so I can have control of the situation. I have a say about how long they stay and where everything is and is not supposed to be there.
After being outed to the public a few weeks ago by an ex hook up who didn't like it when I told him that yes, I may be the catcher for the Tokyo Yakult Swallows but I don't "catch" for any of my sexual partners. It was disheartening and exhausting having to deal with damage control and Rei and Nabe both deserve a raise for all the hard work they did during the initial first few weeks. Everything was figured out in the end and the Swallows never criticized me for my sexuality when I did what every Japanese civilian is expected to do, not talk about it.
The man that I went home with last night handed me my glasses from his bedside table, "It's only 6:30. I forgot I was supposed to go into work today, so I won't be able to be a good host and make you breakfast or anything. " He smiled as he was on the last button of his blue button-up shirt and started on his brown leather belt in the belt loops of his tan cache pants.
I offered him a grin of my own, "Don't worry about it," I located my boxers that were at the side of the bed and bent over to grab them, "I'm sorry I had to inconvenience you last night by bringing me home."
The lanky male, I feel bad not remembering his name, walked over to me and kissed my temple, "Oh, believe me, it was well worth it," his wicked grin was almost a mirror of my own and I'm starting to understand why I was drawn to this male. He glanced over to his alarm clock and groaned, "I really have to go, but I'll lay out some Tylenol for you. Please feel free to use what you want, I'll clean up when I get home from work. " He kissed my temple again before heading out his bedroom door before I could thank him.
Now I feel really bad for forgetting his name. He was a lot kinder than my usually lays, but then again, maybe it's because he was expecting more, but being on time for work made him appear nicer.
I would usually have to call Rei and let her know of all of the men's names that I interacted with so she can do a background check on all of them so not another 'douche canoe' situation doesn't happen again, but he was really sweet and I don't remember his name anyways so I guess this once it's okay to not let Rei know.
I lift the comforter from my legs and I can now feel the stickiness of last night's events on my thighs and lower belly. Definitely, a shower is needed and I don't feel like a jackhammer is going off in my skull so I consider that a win as well.
I take a big stretch, I stumble into the bathroom where a white bottle with a red lid is waiting by the sink with a glass cup filled with water and a note.
Sorry again for not staying longer this morning, but duty calls!
I hope these pills at least make up for it.
Thanks again for last night. Call me again sometime?
- Haruto
That's right, his name was Haruto. He works as a nurse and had a brother who worked at a broadcasting studio that talked about everything baseball. That's how he recognized me and charmed me with his Ichiro Suzuki trivia. I decided to save his number from the card in my contacts. I don't usually repeat hookups, but he was a good lay and he seemed nice enough.
I fold the piece of paper and strip to hop into the shower. The hot stream of water was refreshing and woke me up.
I finished with the shower and walked back to the bedroom with a towel in my hair. My phone lights up and I walk over to see who messaged me and I'm surprised to see who it is from.
Old Man: Kazuya, could you stop by the house tonight and have dinner with me? I have something I need to discuss with you.
That was unusual, my Old Man never messages me. He's always too busy with the steel shop and he knows less about technology than I do.
Me: Sure. Do you have a meal in mind?
His message came immediately.
Old Man: Whatever's your favorite is good. I'm not picky.
Unbelievable.
An annoyed chuckle escaped from my lips. Doesn't he know I don't have a specific favorite food? An image of a ten-year-old me cooking for myself out of necessity flashes in my mind and that answers my question for me.
Of course, we wouldn't know.
I pocket my phone in my jeans and I find my keys and wallet and head out the door of Haruto's apartment. I guess I'll catch the train to my apartment. Once I figured out where I was in the city.
I pull up to my old childhood home at 7:30. I cut the engine to the Blue Acura NSX and my body just slumps in the driver seat. I knew this night was going to be tough and the thought of the Old Man having something serious to talk to me about just screams ominous.
I get out of the car and glance toward the large garage with the 'Miyuki Steel' sign above the doors. A light was still streaming from the cracked open door.
The Old Man is still working as always.
I grab the groceries from the trunk of my car and head inside without saying a word to him. He'll know when I'm here when he walks in.
I place the old house key in the door and clicked it in the lock and turned. It was already unlocked? That was unusual. The Old Man was very meticulous about always locking up before leaving down the stairs to the garage.
I open the door and walk towards the kitchen after putting on my purple house slippers. Plopping everything on the counter I bend down to the counters and I feel in my element. It was an eerie feeling doing the same actions a poor younger version of me did with so much more ease. No need to use a kitchen chair to reach for things when his little ten-year-old self couldn't reach for certain spices. I've long since grown since then.
Placing the wok on the stove, I threw in everything I needed to make a simple enough dinner so I didn't have to stay here longer than I had to. Fried Rice.
The smells of oils and sauces wafted from the pot with each toss of the rice mixing everything together.
I was finishing placing the finished fried rice on the table when the Old Man walked through the door, his face and hands covered in grease.
He looked at the table, then at me, and said, "Smells good, Kazuya."
I shrugged my shoulders, "It's not that difficult to me."
He looks at me and has this look on his face I can't read. Then he says, "Let me shower, and then we can eat."
Ten minutes later, the Old Man is out of the shower and the dishes are cleaned when he sits and begins to eat.
The rice tonight was some of my best work.
The silence that falls between us as we are eating is unbearable. Usually, he'd have had the TV on to some random channel. He'd always been weird in need to have sound while eating and I guess the apple didn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.
"So," I start, "what did you want to talk with me about? It's rare for you to invite me to make dinner and eat with you."
My Old Man opened his can of department store beer with a hiss before he finally answered, "I don't really know how to tell you, so I thought it would be easier over food than over the phone or you hearing it from somebody else." He takes a swig from his can, "I've been in contact with Dr. Honjo as of late and well…"
My leg begins to shake. That doctor's name sounded very familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd heard it before.
"Okay," I said.
He looks down at the beer in his hands, eyes heavy from a long day of work and what almost looks like sorrow.
He clears his throat, voice tight, "He said that your mother is being released and will be coming home."
My heart stopped dead, like a gear that slipped out of place and made the whole machine break down. Then all at once, my heart began to pound so loudly that I heard it in my ears. My breathing goes shallow, "She's,"
Deep breath in.
"When?" I choke out.
My mind fills with images of uncontrollable sobs, yelling, and screaming. So. Much. Screaming.
My Old Man's voice breaks through the memory, "I'm picking her up tomorrow. I only finalized everything this morning." His voice is so monotone. So cold with no emotion in it.
I wondered how he felt about the situation. A wife who couldn't be a mother to his only son and then himself became an estranged father. To bring her back to the same place she mentally fell apart… I don't want to think about it.
I'm on my feet before I even realize what I'm doing.
"Where are you going, Kazuya?" That voice finally sounded like a father, but I didn't give a damn. Not right when I mentally can't handle this atomic bomb that just imploded and shattered my reality.
I'm out the door and in my car before he can even cross to stop me. I whip out my phone and scroll through the Swallows group chat.
It took a lot of convincing and honest necessity for me to get a smartphone with certain media apps, but Kuramochi is a convincing bastard when you are plastered at a team fundraising party.
I scroll until I see a message that was posted yesterday by Umemiya Seiichi tagging the entire group chat.
Umemiyu: ENGAGEMENT/HOUSEWARMING PARTY TOMORROW NIGHT! I EXPECT ALL OF YOU TO BE THERE!
I never planned on going to his party. I congratulated him when he told us that he finally got the courage to propose to his childhood friend and high school sweetheart Matsubara Nao. He was so nervous the day before his planned engagement that his pitches were atrocious that I just made him call it in early to do batting practice.
I see his address under his tagged message and I plug it into my navigation system and reverse out of my Old Man's driveway faster than you can say 'deadball'.
EIJUN
You'd think that growing up in the countryside of Nagano would prepare me for the heat, and in most cases, it would have. But when I'm out in a rundown baseball diamond with twenty kids running around collecting the balls up from the batting practice we just finished. The amount of sweat that is making my baseball practice uniform stick to my skin. I'm sweating more than I ever did during all of my middle school baseball games.
"You are doing a great job, everyone! After you finish up, we'll end practice with some laps!"
The twenty little humans all yelled in sync and quickly moved around placing the baskets and crates of baseballs and equipment toward the storage shed. Of course, I wasn't the only one on this very uncomfortably hot baseball field. Even though I do work full time on my parent's farm, I do volunteer and help out my town's local little league team with practices. I sometimes wish they had a little league team established when I was younger but what can you do?
I notice that Sota, one of the third basemen, and Ritsu, an outfielder running to see who could collect the most balls the fastest, but then Ritsu stuck his leg out and Sota collided with the ground. Sota sat up with grass stains and dirt on his face and scraps on his hands, "That's cheating. You're a cheater!" Sota wailed.
I jogged over to Sota and assessed his injuries, checking his wrists and knees. All bruised and scraped but nothing serious.
"Ritsu, come over here please."
He hands over his crate of baseballs to one of the boys next to him and walks over to me, not looking me in the face. The huge baby.
"Was it nice to trip Sota to try and win your little game?" I squat down to his eye level, my head tilted to the side.
His lower lip juts out in a pout, "No," he answers.
"And what is one of the most important aspects about baseball that I always enforce?"
Ritsu twists the toe of his cleat into the grass. Oh good lord.
He huffs out a sigh, "That we respect and support all our teammates and show good sportsmanship," he said exacerbated.
A huge smile fills my face. A sense of pride bubbles in my chest.
I place my hand on Ritsu's shoulder, "So what would be the right thing to do in this situation?"
Ritsu looks over at Sota, who went off to finish helping put away everything in the shed. He turns back to me and hugs me quickly, "I'll apologize right now, sorry Coach Sawamura-san." He goes and runs off towards Sota.
The kids are finishing up packing everything up, along with the extra helmets and bats.
As I'm watching over the kids, I feel a tug on my practice pants. "Sawamura-san?" I glance down toward the tiny voice and find Sakura-kun.
"Yes, Sakura-kun?" I squat down to her height.
Her face is pinched with discomfort and her knees are coming together, "I have to use the potty." She whispers out like she's ashamed that she has to do a normal act.
The poor thing has been worried about asking me to use the bathroom so much because she always needs to pee at least three-five times during practice. I know she can't control it, her mother told me the first day that she was a nervous urinator.
My hand finds the top of her head and I ruffle her light brunette hair, "Okay. Let's get everyone else to go for a bathroom break. Sounds good?" I smile back at her.
She smiles and nods. A small hint of color growing on her cheeks.
I raise my voice to get the small rugrats to pay attention to me. When I mention "potty break" they all jump up and down shouting that they all need to go first. I tell them all to line up and I take Sakura by the hand so she can be the first one to go as I lead the others to the bathroom.
"Thank you so much for coaching, Sawamura."
"Do you possibly need anything for the club?"
"You're all Nami ever talks about when she comes home from practice."
Three moms bombarded me as soon as the kids were free to go home. They came to thank me for my great coaching and for taking time out of my busy schedule for caring about teaching children baseball. It was where the conversation was leading that I was getting nervous.
The mom of Nami places her hands on her hip, "You know, it's a shame that someone like you is single. If I was twenty years younger, I definitely wouldn't let someone like you slip away."
Being that was completely inappropriate, in more ways than one, I just scratched the back of my head and spluttered out, thanks before telling them that I had to start heading home.
In a few months, I'd be packing my bags and going to college not too far away from home, but far enough that I couldn't commute every day. Soon I'd go to school to be a teacher so I could come back to my hometown and teach what I know and hopefully better kids' lives.
Some of my friends that I have made outside of Nagano think that I'm crazy that I would want to stay in this town. But they just don't understand. This was my home.
But in truth, if I was truly being honest, I wouldn't want to stay here. I would want to have gone to a great baseball school and possibly became a great baseball star. But I had to think realistically. And for me, taking care of my family was my number one priority over everything else. They had done so much for me, it was my turn to return the favor, whether I liked it or not.
So I buried my dreams of becoming a baseball star. But that never stopped me from reading articles on a particular professional catcher who I would imagine catching my own pitches. Fantasized about what it would sound like when the ball hit the mitt. It gave me goosebumps and other things when I would let my mind dream. And on those nights, I swear I could feel the chills of the image of us being a battery: Miyuki Kazuya and I.
