Chapter Text
It's Wakana who first sees it.
The summer holidays have just started. Eijun is in his room, staring in dismay at the pile of textbooks and assignments on his desk. He should get on with it, he knows.
Usually he would be out there, finding his friends and playing catch before the day could get too hot... but this year is different. This year is the last of middle school, and if he wants to get in the same highschool as everyone and play with them next year, he doesn't have a choice. He has to start studying.
So, with a sigh, he starts piling up the whole mess so he can take it to the outside deck.
That's when he hears a stampede in the stairs. He turns just as his door is slammed open.
"Eijun!!"
"Ack! What the hell, Wakana?"
His friend is panting like she ran all the way here from her house. Her cheeks are pink and her eyes are kinda shiny.
"Look!" she says, brandishing an open magazine.
It's a baseball magazine, the kind Eijun rarely bothers with because it's much less fun to read about baseball than to play it. Wakana will occasionally skim over one, but he's a bit surprised she's doing it now, when their loss in the summer tournament is still so fresh.
"What?" he grumbles, taking it to squint at the page it's open at. It's full of articles about the highschool summer tournament and he doesn't know why they should care before next year. "What is it?"
"Here, you idiot! Here!" she yells in his ear, stabbing her finger at a picture in the top corner.
It's of some hotshot player in catcher's gear, and he doesn't get what she's so excited about until his eyes slide over the caption and then do a double take: Miyuki Kazuya (15).
For a moment, all he can do is stare dumbly at the characters. Miyuki, with the kanji for "honorable" and "blessing". Kazuya, "to be" and "first". He remembers being in first grade and slaving over how to write them, because that first kanji is twelve strokes and too complex for a six-year-old, but he wanted to learn it and so he had.
"W-Wakana!"
"I know!" she says, beaming now.
"That's my soulmate!!"
"I know!!"
And she does, because they have known each other for so long that there was a time when they took their baths together. She knows the name written on his heart, just as he knows the name written on hers.
"My soulmate plays baseball!!"
It's like the universe has rearranged itself while he wasn't looking, and suddenly everything is perfect and makes so much sense.
"And he's just a year above you and he lives in Tokyo! Oh, Eijun, I'm so happy for you!"
She hugs him, exuberant, and yeah, sure, he guesses that's good too. But it doesn't matter nearly as much as the fact that Miyuki Kazuya, 15, plays baseball.
Because here is the thing: soulmates are... well, they exist. That's all.
You have one, because everyone has one. But it doesn't mean you'll ever meet. There is one person that's your soulmate on the whole planet, and statistically speaking, the odds that you'll cross paths with them one day are very small. Case in point: Eijun might be the only kid in his entire class to have a soulmark written in kanji. Wakana's uses some weird alphabet that's not even the one they learned in English classes.
So Eijun knows that he's luckier than most, but he has never paid it much attention. Sure, he thought, his soulmate was probably Japanese, so what? That still left an entire country where he could be. Most people live their lives without ever meeting the other half of their soul, and that's fine. There are more important things to care about. Like your family and friends. Like baseball.
But Miyuki Kazuya plays baseball.
Miyuki Kazuya is a catcher .
"He's a catcher!" he says out loud, because he really likes the sound of that.
"Oi," Wakana says, laughing. "That's the only thing you're thinking about?"
And yes, as a matter of fact, it is. Because his eyes are glued to the picture now, and it's a whole new perspective. He finds he likes the image of his soulmate in this gear. He pictures him squatting in the catcher's box. What would it be like to pitch to him, he thinks dreamily. Would it feel different?
He immediately shakes his head, feeling guilty. His team is here. He doesn't need a catcher from the city, even if his name is Miyuki Kazuya.
"Well! So that's that," he declares, snapping the magazine closed. "Now I want to play!"
"You don't want to go watch him play, instead?"
He blinks at Wakana.
"Go watch him?"
"Yes, dummy." She takes the magazine back from him and turns to the last pages. "Seidou High made it to the best 4 in Tokyo West. They are playing the semifinal tomorrow! We can go!"
"We... we can?!"
She beams at him.
"Let's go tell your parents!"
He blushes to the root of his hair.
"Wha... No way! If we tell them, they'll want to tag along and they'll be super embarrassing! They'll want to meet him and meet his parents, and... We can't tell them, Wakana!!"
She hums doubtfully.
"Do you have enough allowance saved to go to Tokyo, though?"
He has been saving up for new cleats, so probably, but it's going to make a serious dent in his budget. Still, he gives a firm nod. If it's between that and the mortifying embarrassment he can feel looming in his future, it's not even a choice.
"Okay, well... I'm not letting you go alone. You'd get lost."
"Hey!"
"Tokyo is a big city, you know! You don't even know where the stadium he'll be playing at is. Do you know how to look up train schedules? What about the subway?"
And okay, maybe she's got a point, because his head is already spinning.
"Leave it to me, okay?" she grins. "I'll come get you tomorrow. Tell your parents you'll be out all day. Pack a bento!"
She's already gone by the time he can nod. Geez, she's even more into this than he is.
Still, he thinks, staring at the magazine she left him with. Tomorrow, he'll see his soulmate play. Beaming, he throws himself onto his bed and pours through the article, homework forgotten.
"Why is Tokyo so big?" he whines as they climb the stairs inside the Meiji Jingu Stadium.
"I warned you," Wakana says, his wrist firmly clamped in her hand. "At least we made it on time."
She drags him into the light, and Eijun has to stop and stare.
"Wow."
It's not so much the size of the stadium, because a baseball field is a baseball field whether it's in Tokyo or in Nagano. It's the sheer number of people pouring onto the stands and already seated around the infield. Highschool baseball is way more popular than he thought.
"The Seidou supporters are over there!" Wakana says, and tows him in that direction.
He doesn't care much about where they sit. He's not going to cheer for another team than his own.
... Okay, so maybe he'll cheer for Miyuki Kazuya. And hey, it's close to the Seidou dugout, so they'll see him come and go.
Just above the dugout, rows and rows of teenagers in pale blue t-shirts are clustered. Eijun elbows Wakana as they sit not too far from them.
"Who is that?"
She shrugs, looking uncomfortable herself.
"That's the Seidou second-string players."
They turn around. A few middle-aged guys are in the seats just behind them. It's one of them who spoke.
"Second... string?" Eijun says.
"Wait, so they're all baseball players from Seidou?" Wakana says, wide-eyed.
"What?! There are dozens of them!"
The man huffs while his buddies snicker.
"Of course there are! Seidou is a big baseball school, you know. Players come from all over Tokyo and even Japan to go there. You can only have twenty players in the dugout, so the rest has to stay in the stands. Seidou has nearly a hundred players right now."
"A hundred!!" Eijun gets onto his knees on his seat so he can goggle at him.
"Eijun! A hundred players, and he made it into the first string in his first year!" Wakana gushes with bright eyes.
The other men stop laughing at Eijun's wonder to take part in the conversation.
"Oh, so you two are here to support one of your friends, huh?"
"There are only two first-year players in the team right now, yeah? Miyuki and that green-haired kid, what's-his-name."
"You know a lot about Seidou, uncles," Eijun observes.
"Damn right we do!" the first one retorts. "We are Seidou alumni. Gotta keep up with what the young ones do with the school's reputation."
Eijun oohs in interest and makes small talk with them until it's Seidou's turn to take the field to warm up. Then he searches hungrily for the glint of sports glasses. It's hard to tell at first with the players all turning their backs to the stands and the baseball caps they're wearing, but as they start their routine, he finds it on a boy wearing the number 2 jersey on his back. Belatedly, he checks the scoreboard.
Batting seventh, Miyuki Kazuya, number 2.
The stadium has an open bullpen near the stands, and when Miyuki ducks into the dugout and comes out wearing his catcher's gear, walking in that direction, Eijun wants to jump down and join him. He can't quite see it from here, but the sound of balls hitting mitts makes him gnash his teeth in frustration.
Ugh, that's why he doesn't like watching baseball! He'd much rather be playing!
Before too long, the game starts in earnest. Then Eijun has other things to think, because damn, they are good.
He had known on some abstract level that highschool baseball was a whole new beast from middle school, but it's different, seeing it with his own eyes. Both Seidou and their opponent play with a ferocity that gives him goosebumps. They fight teeth and nails for every single point. Every runner on base has the stands erupting into cheers.
Eijun gulps. Wakana is silent next to him. Her hands are fisted on her lap.
Sure, most of these players are two or three years older than them. But the opposing team has a first-year pitcher that even manages to strike out Seidou's cleanup batter, and the guy is so big Eijun would have sworn there was no way he was still a highschooler.
From the seats behind, Hitarashi and his buddies comment that Azuma, the batter, is going to have to do better than this once he gets drafted into the pro league next year.
Eijun glares at the blond pitcher on the mound and wishes him to take fire. What the hell? Who said Tokyo players could be that good??
That stupid team also has a dark-skinned first-year that's damn annoying once he's on base.
"Gah! Steal!" Eijun yells, fuming, as Seidou's pitcher winds up and the runner takes off like a shot.
And then Miyuki is on his feet. The ball slams into his mitt and goes sailing the other way, reaching second base before the runner can. Eijun barely saw him throw, that's how fast he was.
"Out!" calls the umpire.
Eijun is out of his seat and screaming with the Seidou supporters before he knows it.
"Awesome! So awesome! Wakana! Did you see that?!"
She's laughing with him, nodding that yes, she saw. Seidou wraps up the inning and jogs back toward the stands as everyone claps at them and cheers. Eijun opens his mouth to join his voice to theirs. But the words stick in his throat.
He has to sit back down, abruptly dizzy.
"Eijun?" Wakana peers at him in worry.
It hit him all of a sudden.
He nearly yelled his soulmate's name in public. The name he kept to himself all his life, that only his parents and Wakana ever knew.
A soulmark is private, something you're not supposed to disclose to anyone you're not super close to.
And he nearly yelled it in a packed stadium.
Because the boy wearing it is standing just a few feet away.
"Miyuki Kazuya," he whispers to himself, and even though no one hears him under the roar of the crowd, he blushes.
Miyuki Kazuya is the type of outstanding player that'll get picked out of a hundred members to be on the field in his first year of highschool. He plays with the kinds of upperclassmen that everyone expects to see become pros as soon as they graduate.
And yet, Seidou loses.
For a long moment after the umpire calls the game, all Eijun can do is stare down at the field. His throat feels tight, sore with every protest that wants to spill out of his lips.
'But they're so good! They're going to Koushien! A team like that just has to go to Koushien!!'
They have to. Right? Because if even a team like Seidou can't make it... If even they fall short...
He looks at the Seidou players. All of them are rooted to the spots where they stood when the last call was made. Some have collapsed on all fours. Azuma is openly bawling, tears tracking down the face he has lifted to the sky in supplication.
Miyuki... Miyuki is a stone statue. He's in his catcher's gear, standing behind home plate. His mask hangs from still fingers. His glasses and the distance hide whatever expression he's wearing.
Eijun doesn't need to see it. He remembers being in this exact place, just a few weeks ago, in a different stadium. He knows what Miyuki is feeling.
"Another year, another chance at Koushien gone," Hitarashi sighs. The stands around them are rumbling with disappointed conversations. "Inashiro is monstrous this year. Hell, they'll probably make it through the final."
Seidou's dugout slowly empties as the other players trickle onto the field for the salute, shoulders bowed. Miyuki unfreezes. He walks up to the mound. Says a few words to the huddled pitcher. Holds up a hand. The pitcher takes it, rises to unsteady feet.
"It's probably not a good day to talk to him, huh?" Wakana whispers.
Eijun says nothing.
He hadn't planned to meet with Miyuki Kazuya today. Truthfully, he hadn't decided if he wanted to meet him at all. Tokyo is a four-hour round trip from Nagano, and he has lived his life so far without a soulmate. He needs to focus on his highschool entrance exams, and then on his team.
Even if he had wanted to introduce himself today, he would never do it now. This is a time for teammates to lick their wounds in peace, not for strangers to barge in.
Still, once the Seidou team has come back to bow to the stands and receive their applause and their kind words, Eijun follows Hitarashi and the other alumni. They make their way out and around the stadium with practiced ease, joining a small gathering near a bus.
"Sorry about your friend, kids," Hitarashi says. "If they had won, they'd probably have stuck around to watch the other semifinal this afternoon. But now they'll go straight back to the school. Might still cheer him up a bit to see you there."
When all Eijun does is stand away from the first row and stare at the stadium exit, Wakana says: "We're good, thanks."
"Heh, you sure?" says one of the men whose name he didn't catch.
"Yes, it's okay. Maybe another time."
Hitarashi grunts.
"Well, a few of them will come watch the final in two days, chances are. They're stubborn like that. Otherwise you can just drop by Seidou to watch them train."
"Really, we can?" Wakana asks in surprise.
"Sure, we old dudes do it all the time," one laughs.
"They'll get a few days off to go visit their families, but they'll be back at it by next week," Hitarashi says. "Except the third years, of course."
"So fast! Even though it's summer?"
That's when Eijun loses track of the conversation, because the Seidou team is coming out. There is a new round of applause, people telling them how good the game was and how they are looking forward to next year. The team bows in thanks.
Eijun sort of hates it all. He could barely tolerate his family's well-meaning words after Akagi's losses, he can't imagine how it feels to hear those things from strangers who came all this way to watch you play when all you want to do is apologize to them and cry some more.
Seidou's members make their way to the side of the bus to unload their bags. He finally catches sight of Miyuki.
It's the glasses, once again, that single him out. It's the first time Eijun has seen him without his mask and from this close, so it's his first good look at his soulmate's face. He fixes it in his memory, in the same place where he holds the kanji for "Miyuki Kazuya", close to his heart. Then he adds the way he had looked, throwing that ball to second base.
Maybe sensing his stare, Miyuki looks back at him and meets his eyes. It only lasts a second, but it strikes through Eijun like a bolt of lightning.
Miyuki Kazuya's eyes are brown and hard like diamond.
There's an inflexibility to him, a hunger that calls to the deepest parts of Eijun.
In his own mind, Miyuki Kazuya is still in the catcher's box.
So Eijun doesn't feel put out when Miyuki turns away without taking any notice of him. He knows he hasn't seen him at all. Right now, he's not seeing anything but his teammates. His teammates and the field.
Eijun grins. He feels warm inside. His heart is on fire.
'I want to play.'