Last Resort
By Yukitsu
Standard Disclaimers Apply
"Mihashi."
The pitcher in question mumbled in his sleep ("Third runner… Mm….") and pressed his cheek more to his arm. It was somewhat cute, if they weren't running late already and Momokan wasn't waiting for them. With a bat. And probably protein.
Izumi glanced at the door where Tajima and Hamada were carrying another large banner outside. New and nearly twice as large as their Tosei match. He turned back to Mihashi and raised an eyebrow. "Mihashi. Mi-ha-shi!"
"I can pitch…. Doesn't… doesn't hurt."
Izumi sighed, put his hands on his hips, breathed in. "Mihashi! Abe is here looking for you!"
The boy bolted up from his seat, cheek red from being turned into a pillow and flailing. "A-A-Abe-kun!"
Izumi sighed again. "Come on, we're running late."
"A-Abe-kun…?"
He shook his head, and picked up Mihashi's bag because Mihashi could be so I slow /I when he was groggy. "Nope. I was kidding."
"Ki… kidding…?" A hiccup. "Izumi… kun."
"Mm-hmm," he said indulgingly. "Come on. I don't know about you, but Momokan's a hundred times scarier than Abe is."
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9:23 PM 12/4/2007