Chapter Text
"Our baseball facilities are some of the best that high school baseball has to offer, with dorms within walking distance of both the school and fields," Takashima narrates, leading Miyuki further into Seidos campus. He can't help but give an appreciative glance at the grounds. Even if it isn't as impressive as Inashiro had been, Seido has very nice fields.
"Does this meet your expectations? I know you've been touring many other schools here in Tokyo," Takashima asks, her glasses glinting in the sunlight. Miyuki shoots her a mischievous grin.
"As long as I can play baseball, does it matter?" Takashima hums in acknowledgment.
"I'm glad to hear that. There have been rumors about you being picky." Miyuki spares Takashima a side glance, not knowing how to respond. "I think you'll find the baseball we play here to be interesting, Miyuki-kun," Takashima pauses behind the fence of one of the practice fields in use. At the plate in front of them, a giant batter hits pitch after pitch to the back fence. Hiding behind a net at the mound is a wimpy-looking pitcher. The pitcher winds up, and a fastball even Miyuki can hit sails to the plate. The batter swings, sharp and smooth, right through it. The rattle of the fence behind left field echoes across the diamond.
"What the hell's with these weak pitches?" The batter yells, gesturing with his bat to the pitcher, "If you can't pitch with feeling, you should turn your tail and head home!"
"That's Azuma Kiyokuni" Takashima narrates, "He's a monster of a batter that's hit 42 home runs in his high school career. He's a draft prospect for the NPB next year," Miyuki mindlessly nods along.
A draft prospect is no joke, but any batter with that attitude doesn't deserve to represent the best of baseball. And a coach who doesn't agree with that is not a coach Miyuki wants.
"I think if he toned down his attitude and dropped some weight I might be able to hear some news about him before his graduation," Miyuki drawls, earning a shocked look from Takashima. "Hitting a home run should be easy with all that fat he's got." In front of them, the batter freezes. Another weak pitch makes it to the catcher, who flinches in surprise. The batter appears to take a large breath, before wheeling around to face Miyuki.
"Oi!" Azuma yells, his face red with anger. "Who's the middle school brat insulting my cute belly?" Azuma stomps over to meet them, separated only by the metal fence of the backstop.
"Azuma-san, this is Miyuki Kazuya, one of my potential recruits." Takashima introduces him smoothly, not flinching at the aggravated boy in front of her.
"Miyuki Kazuya, hm?" Azuma glowers down at him, almost a solid foot taller. "Even for a middle schooler, you're tiny. A breeze could knock you over." Miyuki stiffens at the insult. It's no secret he's small. And even if it's an exaggeration, Miyuki is smaller than even the pitcher who has now snuck off the field into the dugout. His height has made him a target for bullies in the past, and given that Azuma is likely three times his width, there should be no surprise in his reaction.
"Hey, Azuma-senpai! Don't scare off the middle schooler with your big scary face!" A loud voice yells, causing Azuma to turn away from Miyuki.
"Sawamura, what the hell does this have to do with you? This brat needs to learn a lesson!" Azuma growls, face still red with rage.
"So do you, if you think it's okay to talk to your pitcher like that," Miyuki can't stop himself from saying it, even if Azuma whips around to face him once again a deeper shade of red.
"No pitcher of mine can barely make it to the plate," Azuma snarls, his fat sausage fingers curling in the holes in the fence.
"Leave him alone, senpai." The mysterious voice appears out of the third base dugout. He has light brown hair, golden eyes, and most importantly, catchers gear. Broad shoulders, too. His throw-down must be fast. "He might be the one to replace you next year, and cheering him on from the stands will be awkward if you beat him up!" Miyuki tunes out most of the boy's words, instead focusing on the yellow glove tucked under his arm and helmet grasped in his other arm. An uneven tan on his left and right hands. So he's a leftie.
"What does that even mean, huh, you punk!" Azuma yells, now approaching the boy named Sawamura.
"Azuma-san, that's enough," Takashima says. Azuma stops, glancing back at her. "If you have something to say, say it through baseball. Miyuki-kun here is a pitcher. Why not have a face-off?" Azuma turns to regard Miyuki with a new interest.
"Well, I suppose he can't be worse than our other pitcher." Azuma huffs out, then begins to make his way back to the field.
"Wow, so you're the tiny guy who mouthed off to Azuma?" Sawamura laughs as he looks at Miyuki. Miyuki bristles under his gaze.
"I could say the same about you," He responds coldly. Sawamura only laughs harder, holding his stomach with his free hand. His smile is big, and his eyes squinted in joy.
"Wow, you seem fun. Takashima-san, can I catch?"
"Sure, Sawamura. I was hoping you would volunteer. You see, Miyuki-kun can be headstrong when it comes to his catchers."
"Oi, what are you sayin-"
"I can't say I'm surprised." Sawamura interrupts, completely ignoring Miyuki. "This Sawamura Eijun swears to do his best to bring out Miyuki's potential!"
Who does this kid think he is?
"Well Miyuki-kun, let's get you changed and warmed up," Takashima tells Miyuki.
-
The hardball feels foreign in his grip, but the watchful eyes of the crowd that has gathered is expected. After all, once rumor had spread of a genius pitcher pitching no-hitters as a 2nd year, the crowds were never small. Miyuki winds up fully as he stands on the mound. He swings his arm down and sends his pitch right to Sawamura's glove. Hidden behind the mask, the only thing Miyuki can see is Sawamura's sparkling eyes. Beneath his feet, the dirt crunches from his weight shift.
"Alright, let's wrap this up!" Sawamura calls out, tossing the ball back to him. Miyuki nods and sends one more warm-up pitch to him before Sawamura takes off his mask and approaches the mound.
"Jeez, that tiny middle schooler is going to get crushed by Azuma-senpai," One boy comments, just loud enough to reach Miyuki.
"He has decent speed, but even high school pitchers struggle against him," Another says.
"I think I've heard of this kid before. What's his name? Mimura?"
"Hey, don't tell me you're getting distracted already!" Sawamura grins at Miyuki, who only stares back unimpressed. He even attempts to throw his arm around Miyuki's shoulder, only to have him shrug it off. "So, precious little kouhai, what pitches can you throw?"
"A 4 seam, cutter, and curveball," Miyuki supplies, taking a step back to put some space between him and Sawamura.
"That's pretty good for a middle schooler, isn't it? Let's just do 1 for 4 seam, 2 for cutter, and 3 for curve" Sawamura takes a step forward, capturing him under his arm again. "Where do you play?"
"Edogawa senior league," Miyuki grumbles, squirming as he tries to get out from under his arm. Sawamura only tightens his hold. "Aren't you supposed to go back to your spot now?"
"Please! I'd never leave my pitcher alone without assuring them!" Sawamura grins down at Miyuki. "So don't worry! We might not have a team behind us right now, but we have each other, and that's all we need to take down that monster!"
My pitcher?
"That's awfully confident for a catcher I've never heard of," Miyuki snarkily returns. Sawamura just laughs and taps Miyuki's chest with his glove.
"And you're awfully cocky for a pitcher I've never heard of! Just follow my lead, partner!"
Partner, huh?
"Finally! I was falling asleep just waiting on you two!" Azuma bellows as Sawamura crouches into his position.
"Sorry senpai! We were just making sure you got the best fight we can give!"
"Please! That won't be even close to getting me out!" Azuma sets up in the batters box, his presence felt on the mound by Miyuki. "Don't get scared on me now, little pitcher!"
A shiver runs down Miyuki's back, but a small smirk appears on his face.
So this is high school baseball, huh?
Sawamura makes his first call. A low outside fastball. Nice and safe, for a pitcher and catcher who have never played with each other. Miyuki winds up and throws. The ball hurtles forward, singing right towards the mit-
And makes contact with a bat. Miyuki freezes, turning helplessly to follow it. Thankfully, the ball soars just outside the foul line. Deep in right field.
"Ok! Nice course!" Sawamura yells, gaining Miyuki's attention once again. He nods and catches the new ball tossed back to him. Sawamura settles into his crouch and makes his next call.
You can't be serious. Well, it will be his fault if it gets hit.
Miyuki winds up and throws the same pitch. His front foot points right at Sawamura's glove. This time, the ball flies perfectly. The bat never even enters Miyuki's view. Instead, the ball is buried in the pocket of a yellow mit, poised right at the edge of the strike zone. A cloud of dust rises from Sawamura's mitt. A chorus of murmurs rise from the crowd.
"That's a strike, right senpai?" Sawamura asks Azuma, who looks as if he might have popped a vein.
"Yes… I just had to be sure he could throw one," Azuma yells out, anger fresh on his face as he brandishes his bat towards Miyuki. "Is that all you got, middle schooler?"
"Keep it up, Miyuki!" Sawamura yells, throwing the ball back to him.
Miyuki throws two more pitches, both foul balls. His cutter is pulled down the third base line, and an inside fastball sent to the backstop right behind Sawamura.
He has my timing.
Sawamura makes another sign, and Miyuki almost balks at the sheer ridiculousness of it.
Right down the middle, are you serious? He'll smoke it right out of the park! He has my timing!
Sawamura ignores Miyuki's glare, only smiling as he adjusts his footing in the crouch. Miyuki shakes his head, calling off the sign. Sawamura's eyes seem to shine through the holes in his catchers mask. He signs the same thing, leaving Miyuki frustrated.
If you think I'll listen to that, you're crazy.
Even as Miyuki winds up, he feels a certain calling inside him wanting to follow the sign. He releases, and the bat swings into view, but the ball drops under it. Sawamura scrambles to adjust to the pitch, and Azuma's eyes widen as he realizes what has happened. Miyuki's curve worked, earning him a strike out. And possibly an angry catcher.
The crowd gathering around the diamond erupts into yelling. Whether they're cheering for Miyuki or jeering at him, he can't tell. All he's aware of is a certain catchers glare.
-
"Well, Miyuki-kun, did you enjoy your visit?" Takashima asks as she leads him to the campus gate hours later. A handful of Seido students litter near the entrance, mostly girls likely to be waiting to catch a glimpse of the baseball boys.
"It was certainly more eventful than all my other visits." Miyuki comments, not wanting to give away anything else. His body is still buzzing with adrenaline. All he can think about is pitching. Maybe even to a certain catcher.
"Then I hope you'll consider our offer, have a nice day, Miyuki-kun," Takashima bows, and Miyuki nods his head slightly to pass as respectful. She walks off, and Miyuki watches her for a moment before turning to the road.
"Wait! Miyuki Kazuya!" The sound of his name yelled at an insane volume causes him to turn back towards the school. Sawamura stands panting, face flushed red and his normally white practice uniform covered in dirt. His cleats are still on, and one shin guard hangs awkwardly off his leg. Miyuki levels him with an unimpressed stare.
"Didn't your coach ever tell you to take care of your equipment? Your cleats will wear down faster if you run on concrete," Miyuki drawls, delighting in the flush of anger on Sawamura's face.
"Shut up! I had to be sure to catch you before you left!" Sawamura yells, his lack of filter becoming more apparent to Miyuki.
"And why's that? Are you going to beg me to join your school?"
"Hell no!" Miyuki blinks in surprise. "I came to give you a piece of my mind!" Sawamura steps closer, within arm range of Miyuki. Miyuki, for some reason, does not find any reason to take a step back.
"If you have a pitching tip, I really only take those from my-"
"It's not about that!" Sawamura growls, pupils dilating like a cat. "You shook off my call, bastard! Why?" Miyuki sneers.
"What do you mean 'why?' You asked for a pitch down the middle for a monster! I'm not against weird calls, but that's downright dangerous! No way in hell am I giving him a hit!" Miyuki takes another step forward, into Sawamura's space. He's dangerously close to yelling, something he doesn't do often.
"I asked for a pitch down the middle because he wouldn't have expected it!" Sawamura yells, no shame in his expression. Miyuki reels back.
"What?"
"Azuma is a specialist at reading pitchers, but you were a cocky middle schooler! He expected you to pitch a cutter low and inside to try and build the count up! If you had thrown down the middle, it would have made him balk and watch the third strike!" Sawamura's nostrils flare, and Miyuki stands shocked.
"But… I still struck him out on my curve, I won." Sawamura regards him angerly for a few seconds, before sighing. He looks at Miyuki then with resignation.
"Winning a battle without your catcher, or your team… is that the baseball you want to play?"
"I-"
"Nevermind…" Sawamura steps back, turning away from Miyuki. "Good luck in high school, Miyuki!"
Clenching his hands into fists, Miyuki can only watch as the boy gets further and further away from him. He wants to call out, to ask what Sawamura thought of his pitches, to ask him to catch more, to ask if they would make a good battery. But he doesn't. He just turns and walks the other way.
-
When he gets home hours after he expected to, he tears a piece of paper out of a notebook and writes a note for his dad. His dad probably won't get back from the steel mill until late, so he has no other option to tell him the news. All his dad knows is that Miyuki will get scouted for high school. And get a scholarship, but they don't mention that.
Miyuki makes himself dinner, and packages a portion up for his dad when he finishes. He flops onto his bed and flips through a baseball magazine. This one covers high school baseball, and has all the favorites.
Narumiya Mei and Harada Masatoshi from Inashiro take up a full two pages, talking about their near flawless battery and prospects for the summer. On the last page, a small article covers Seidos likely ace for the summer, Tanba Koichiro. He apparently has a decent curve, but a weak fastball. Miyuki frowns.
An ace with only two pitches? Seems wreckless to me.
Miyuki tosses his magazine onto his desk, next to his scorebooks from the last game he played in middle school. He sighs, and takes off his glasses. He does his nightly routine, and passes out within seconds of closing his eyes.
Then in the morning, he calls Takashima, and accepts her offer. He doesn't tell his father or anyone he knows that the reason is because he dreamt of a yellow glove and golden eyes