I just wanted to get this chapter out of the way. I'm kinda regretting the "multiple pairings" part now. Haha.
Furuya and Eijun not-really-hating and not-really-trying-to-kill each other.
It's one of those lazy weekend mornings that make you feel like the world has stopped for a coffee break, and Furuya's lying on the grass trying to make sense of the shapeless clouds floating by. Most of them look like a catcher's mitt for some reason. Or Miyuki's snickering face. The latter doesn't make for a particularly good morning. Add the musty heat and Furuya wishes he didn't get up so early.
"A Tokyo summer can reach an average of about 29°C."
You know something's wrong when Sawamura, of all people, is spouting textbook trivia. Furuya's never been one for numbers, though; all he knows is he feels like a popsicle in the desert.
"I learned that from my cramming session with Kanemaru, and—Hey, you listenin' to me?"
He lets out a low, guttural moan. Honestly, he can't deal with both the heat and this guy's unlimited bundle of energy, but Furuya's stuck with him for the better part of the day. Times like this he wishes he had more friends his age, even though calling Sawamura a "friend" is already being rather generous.
Sawamura purses his lips. "If you're just gonna sleep, I'm leaving you."
"You're too kind. Don't trip on your way out."
"Bastard. C'mon, I'm bored; let's play catch."
Furuya sighs, and even his breath feels like it's charting at 29°C. "Go bother Chris-senpai or something."
"If I could, I wouldn't be here."
He's too drained from the heat to put up much of a fight, and he finds himself being coaxed by the overzealous boy into the empty field. He's sweating a river even before the first ball is thrown, and the perspiration makes the glove and his clothes cling to his skin. Sawamura laughs at the way Furuya keeps grimacing.
"It's not that hot." Apparently Sawamura's never experienced thermal shock before. Hokkaido summers were never this bad.
Sawamura unconsciously uses his new form whenever he throws the ball, and for the first time Furuya realizes why this guy deserves a spot in the regulars. Being a southpaw—a left-handed pitcher—is already advantageous, but his form makes it so that his entire left arm is concealed by his body as he winds up, and by the time you see the ball's release and notice its trajectory, you have very little time to react. Furuya learns all of this the hard way, as his first encounter with this pitch ends with him getting hit right between the eyes. Sawamura, ever the childish one, laughs his ass off.
"Sorry." His tone is far from being sorry.
Furuya responds with impunity, launching a fastball straight at Sawamura's face, which the latter somehow manages to block with his arm. Damn, the heat is making his throws sluggish.
"You ass, you did that on purpose!"
"It's not like I was particularly aiming at your face. Any part will do."
What was supposed to be a friendly game of catch escalates into target practice, and Furuya doesn't even care about the weather anymore. He ducks to avoid Sawamura's pitch and retaliates with a shot of his own, hitting him square in the chest. Resigning himself to the fact that Furuya has better control (and, thus, better aim) than him, Sawamura has taken to awkwardly using a tree for cover, lobbing balls whenever an opportunity presents itself.
Their battle continues for most of the morning, ending with no clear winner only because Haruno and the other managers arrive and give them a stern talking-to about using the team's equipment without permission.
"Well, that was fun," Sawamura says, partly sarcastic and partly honest, picking stray leaves off his hair.
Furuya's drenched in sweat and breathing heavily, his right arm hurting because who thought it was a good idea to start throwing without warming up? But the funny thing is he's not as annoyed as he expected to be. "I guess."
"Yeah, I thought you wouldn't think so—Wait, what?" Sawamura's head jerks in his direction like a compass needle to north. "Say that again?"
"Nothing."
"No, you definitely said it was fun."
"You're hearing things. Did I hit you in the ear? My bad."
"Are you smiling? For real? Heh, you're actually smiling!"
Furuya sighs, lying back down on the grass. The clouds in the sky look like Sawamura's face now. God, he really wishes he didn't get up so early.
Sorry if I don't reply all the time. Just know I appreciate all the feedback you give me. And thanks for continuing to read this. :)