Chapter Text
“Kuramochi-kun, how do you feel now that you’re joining a team alongside players you’ve shared a jersey with in the past?”
The fluorescent lights of the conference room Youichi has been stuck in for the past hour are making him sweat under his suit, and he can feel a headache coming on. The insistent yelling from the reporters, the flashing of their cameras, and the dozen microphones in front of him are suddenly extremely overwhelming.
This isn’t Youichi’s first press conference, not by a long-shot, but it’s already his least favorite.
The reporters are asking fine questions, and yes, he’s excited to be here, but from the moment that he got the call that he was being traded to the Yomiuri Giants until now, he hasn’t had a single second to breathe.
His contract with the Fukuoka Hawks had been up, and while he liked the team well enough, he had always hoped to be traded here.
Not only because the Giants were, as their name might suggest, the team with the best historical rankings, but because he already knew some of the team.
Miyuki Kazuya: his best friend and the last person he’d ever admit to having a soft spot for.
Sawamura Eijun: that loud kid he’d basically adopted as a little brother a decade ago when they were in high school sharing a dorm room.
And finally…
Kominato Ryousuke.
They hadn’t lost contact since Ryousuke had graduated from Seidou, remaining in a few group chats together and messaging each other individually. He’d kept up with what his old partner had been doing over the last ten years virtually, but they hadn’t sat down just the two of them to hang out since Youichi’s third year in university. Even so, they’ve remained close friends, but the distance between them grew to something substantial over the years – a physical distance with cities and hours of train rides spanning the gap between them.
It didn’t help that up until now, they hadn’t even played for the same league in the NPB. The Giants fell under the Central League, while the Hawks were in the Pacific league. They’d played each other a handful of times over the years, since each season had a designated interleague play period for around a month, and they also met once in the Japan Championship Series, where the top team from each league competed for first place.
He’d always meet Ryousuke and the others for dinner or drinks after playing each other, but those games happened so infrequently, and they went so many months between games that their in-person connection had fizzled into something more mild than Youichi would have liked.
They’re still friends, they talk weekly at the very least, but they’re not as close as they used to be.
It’s fine, he’d told himself.
People grow apart, it’s normal.
But to say that he isn’t excited to train with Ryou-san again would be a lie.
“Hyaha! It’s been over ten years since we played for the same team, but I guess it’ll be nice to have familiar faces around! It’ll certainly be nice not to have to face them in games anymore. If I never have to bat with Kazuya calling the shots behind me again, I’ll consider myself lucky.” Youichi laughs again, hearing the reporters in front of him let out a quiet wave of laughter over his good-natured jeering.
It’s not a lie, either – Youichi really is happy to never have Kazuya behind him again. He’s a bastard behind the plate, and Youichi knows firsthand how he makes for a much better teammate than opponent.
Glancing at the clock on the far wall, Youichi sees that there’s only five more minutes left for his reserved timeslot here. Just a few more questions to go…
He’d been in Tokyo for all of two hours before this conference started, barely enough time to meet with his managers and the coach. He’d had to travel in his suit, which was entirely unpleasant.
He could have taken a train up from Fukuoka, but that would have been over a six hour trip. Instead, the Giants’ staff bought him a plane ticket so he’d just have a little under two hours in the air before landing in Haneda Airport in Tokyo. He’d kept his jacket hung up for the flight so it didn’t get wrinkled, but his pants weren’t spared the fate of losing that fresh-pressed aesthetic.
Luckily, he’s sitting for this press conference, so none of the pictures of him should show the wrinkles.
Youichi really isn’t a suit-wearing kind of guy, anyways, but these pictures are going to be blasted over social media and news outlets for the next month.
And, his friends will give him endless amounts of shit if he looks bad in the press photos.
He stifles a yawn between the next two questions, wanting desperately to get out of here.
He hasn’t had time to check into his hotel yet, and it’s already 7pm.
This suit has to come off soon, or he’s going to lose it.
They really need to invest in softer LED lights in these rooms, too. One of the bulbs above Youichi flickers every minute or so, and he has to hold himself back from flinging one of the mics in front of him up at it to shatter the damn thing.
And his tie is suffocating him.
And he has plans tonight.
He looks back up at the clock. One minute left.
Not enough time for another question, surely.
And he’s right – one of the team’s managers comes over and takes a microphone, letting the reporters know that their time is up and giving instructions for how to reach out if they have any further questions for Youichi.
Feeling the smile that has been plastered on his face start to fray at the edges, Youichi stands next to the manager and bows, thanking the reporters for their time before walking out of the room.
The second the door closes behind him and he’s alone with just the members of the Giants’ staff, he lets out a long, put-upon sigh and slouches against the wall. He brings up a hand to unbutton his jacket and loosen his tie, letting his head fall back against the thick drywall behind him.
The manager that had excused him from the room, Yamanaka Yoshito, glances over at him.
“You did good in there, thank you for putting up with it all. I know this conference was longer than most, but given your records last season and the reunion between you and your old teammates, more news outlets than usual reached out about you.”
It’s hard to argue with that, and Youichi doesn’t blame the team for this, anyways. He waves a hand, dismissing Yamanaka’s words. “It’s nothing, I’m just glad it’s over now.”
Youichi hadn’t become a professional athlete because he wanted to be in the spotlight, he’d done it because he simply loved the sport and wanted to keep playing as long as he could.
He straightens up, stepping away from the wall. “Where are my bags? If you don’t need me for anything else tonight, I’d like to go ahead and get to my hotel.”
Youichi doesn’t mention that he has plans with his old friends tonight, instead hoping the pity of him having had a long day is enough to let him go now.
And it is. Yamanaka gestures for Youichi to follow, and brings him into another room nearby where his luggage is sitting neatly against a wall.
He’ll be moving to Tokyo permanently now that he’s officially a player for the Giants, but he hasn’t had a chance to find a place yet. And honestly, he didn’t want to commit to anywhere without touring it first, anyways.
So instead, he’ll be staying in a nice hotel near the stadium, having gotten a pretty decent rate for his indefinite stay. It comes furnished with a kitchen, one bedroom, and a sizable living room.
He’ll probably want a bigger place for himself later, but this will do in the meantime.
Slinging a bag over each shoulder and hauling his suitcase with one hand, Youichi pulls out his phone to request a taxi meet him downstairs. He rides the elevator down, opening up his messaging app to see that he’d been added to a new group chat.
Kyoujin 3➡️4
Ah, so he’d been added to the group of Seidou players in the Giants.
Bakamura has added you to Kyoujin 3➡️4.
Bakamura
MOCHI SENPAI!!!!!!!
WELCOME TO THE TEAM AND THE GROUP CHAT
I UPDATED THE NAME TO INCLUDE YOU
Kazuya
Yo
Youichi couldn’t help but notice that Ryou-san hadn’t messaged the group yet. Though, it had only been a few minutes since Eijun had added him to the group. He could just be busy.
I am finally free
I was about to throw a mic if they didn’t let me out when they did
In the lobby now, Youichi sees on his phone that his ride is only a few minutes away. He hauls his luggage to the door and steps outside, staying close to the building so he isn’t in anyone’s way as he waits for the taxi to arrive.
Give me half an hour to unload at the hotel and strip, and I can meet ya wherever
Kazuya
Not going to keep the suit on for your dearest friends? Rude.
Where are we meeting?
Bakamura
Onii-san’s house! He’s cooking dinner tonight
Eijun sends a link in the chat to the location, and Youichi has to take a deep breath to keep his cool.
When he and Kazuya were talking about meeting up tonight, he originally thought it was just going to be the two of them. But then that morning, Kazuya had texted a vague, Sawamoron butted into the plans. It’ll still be low-key though.
He’d assumed it might just be the three of them, then.
Not that Youichi is complaining about this development.
But he wishes he had time to shower before showing up to Ryousuke’s place. He’s a bit sweaty after sitting in that bright and crowded room in a full suit for multiple hours.
Youichi just gives Eijun’s message a thumbs up and pockets his phone, seeing that the taxi he’d requested had pulled up.
He pops open the trunk to drop his bags into it before sliding himself into the back seat, reading off the address to the hotel he’ll be staying at for the time being.
He checks his phone again and sees a message had popped up while he was loading into the car.
Ryou-san
My door is unlocked.
The doorman knows to expect you.
Youichi smiles at the blunt messages and doesn’t reply, instead checking his email for updates from the team’s staff.
He has a lot of meetings coming up in the next week to get him onboarded, but luckily, tomorrow is a free day for him to get settled in. This is also the only reason he agreed to go out tonight, knowing that he has the luxury of sleeping in as late as he wants in the morning.
As he’s tapping through copies of contracts that he’ll have to sign and adding meetings to his calendar, he feels the taxi slow to a stop. Looking out the window, he sees the shiny glass exterior of the hotel he’ll be living out of reflecting the taxi back at him.
He pays for the ride with his phone and unloads the trunk of the car, nodding to the driver as he makes his way to the small staircase leading into the hotel.
Checking in is easy, and after a few short minutes, Youichi is loading up into another elevator and taking it up over a dozen floors. He walks the hall and scans the room numbers, sparse as they are given how large the rooms are up here, until he finds the one corresponding to the number on his keycard.
He taps the card against the scanner on the door and hears a faint click. Pushing the door open before it locks itself again, Youichi walks in and takes in the view. Directly in front of him is his living room, lined with a wall full of windows overlooking the city. On his right is the kitchen, appliances shiny and looking brand-new, and on his left is a doorway into the bedroom.
He wants to spend more time inspecting his temporary home, but he’s more eager to see his friends. He brings his luggage into the bedroom with him and dumps the bags on his bed, wasting no time in stripping out of his suit.
It’s not until he’s standing in just his boxers that he opens up a bag to fish out some clothes for the evening – a simple pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, nothing fancy. He grabs a thick jacket from his bag and slips it on as well. December in Tokyo isn’t much different than it is in Fukuoka, but it’s still cold. And now that the sun is going down, it’ll only get colder through the night.
He’d dress nicer for this, always desperate to win even a bit of Ryousuke’s attention, as futile as his attempts have been in the past. But he knows that at the very least, if he dresses nicely, Kazuya would make fun of him the whole night.
He’s also trying to be subtle. If he’s made it this far without anyone knowing about his decade-long one-sided crush, surely he can keep up the facade a while longer.
Even being on a team with Ryousuke again, Youichi isn’t too concerned about his ability to keep this to himself. If he could survive the hell that was teenage hormones and shared baths with Ryou-san, he thinks he can handle it now that he’s well into adulthood.
Youichi takes a minute to wash his face in the bathroom and comb through his hair, psyching himself up in the mirror before flicking off the light and grabbing his phone and wallet – making sure to put his keycard in an empty pocket of his wallet before heading out.
He’s on another elevator ride where he pulls his phone out to message the group, letting them know that he’s heading out. He’d chosen this hotel for its proximity to the stadium, and it seemed that Ryousuke had chosen his home for the same reason.
Clicking on the link that Eijun had sent earlier, Youichi sees that it’s not even a ten minute walk away.
Navigating the busy streets of Tokyo isn’t difficult, but he can tell that the people around him are different from the people he’s used to walking by in Fukuoka. He’d lived there for five years, so adjusting to being in a new city will probably take him a while.
When he arrives at Ryousuke’s building, he isn’t surprised at how pristine it looks from the outside. Shiny marble broken up by long stretches of glass, doors that open for him automatically, leading into a lobby that just smells expensive.
And sure, the Giants pay well. He’s not surprised about that.
This is just the first time he’s been to Ryousuke’s home since they were in university, and the difference between then and now is staggering.
There’s a man in a well-pressed suit standing at attention next to the elevators at the back of the lobby, so Youichi approaches, and with all the confidence that he doesn’t feel, he lets him know his name and who he’s visiting.
The man gives a curt nod before summoning the elevator, and Youichi is left standing there in silence for a few seconds while they wait. He steps in when the doors open, expecting to select the floor for Ryousuke’s home, but instead, the man follows him in and presses the button for him.
Youichi casts his gaze to the ceiling, wanting to avoid awkwardly staring at the man riding in the elevator with him, but discovers that the ceiling is perfectly reflective, and he finds himself accidentally looking at his co-passenger anyways.
When the elevator finally slows to a stop and the doors open, the man lets him know, “It’ll be the last door on the left.”
He rushes out, muttering a quick thanks to the man before hurrying down the hall.
Last door on the left.
The hallway is long, but it doesn’t take more than a minute for him to reach the end, glancing at the shiny 1408 on the door to make sure he’s got the right one before turning the handle, finding it open just as Ryousuke had said it would be.
He steps in, calling out a greeting into the entryway as he toes off his shoes and slips off his jacket, hooking it on the rack next to the door.
The sprawling room that greets him catches Youichi off-guard, the shiny cool-toned wooden floors leading his gaze towards a large sectional facing a wall with a mounted TV. Further into the room is a wall of windows not unlike the one in Youichi’s hotel – except these windows are a few feet taller, the ceiling much higher in Ryousuke’s home.
Youichi sees Eijun’s reflection in the floor before he sees Eijun himself, his loud-mouthed kouhai launching at Youichi the second he rounds the corner.
“MOCHI SENPAI! YOU MADE IT!”
Youichi wants to wince at the way the words are screamed into his ears, but honestly… he’d missed the guy too.
Not that he’ll ever tell Eijun that.
Youichi intercepts Eijun as he’s flung himself in for a hug, grabbing him around the neck with one arm as he uses the other to roughly mess up his hair.
“Hyaha! Is that any way to greet your senior who just spent all day traveling and working?!”
Eijun wriggles in his grasp, and Youichi ruffles his hair a bit more before letting him go, straightening up to actually get a good look at him. It’s been about six months since he last saw Eijun, and while they’re old enough that no one is still growing, he can still see some slight differences in the man.
His hair is longer, and he’s never seen Eijun wear this shirt before. But his eyes are gleaming the same as always, his smile infectious as he all but drags Youichi further into Ryousuke’s home.
Eijun brings him into the living room and as he gets to the middle of the room, he sees that the kitchen overlooks the area. There’s a counter connecting the kitchen to the living room, a few chairs set up for people to sit out of the way while someone cooks. It’s almost like a window looking in, and through that window, Youichi sees the back of a pink head of hair, Ryousuke moving a pot from the stovetop to sit on the counter next to it.
Kazuya is leaning against the counter connected to the living room, also not looking at Youichi. Instead, he hears that annoying nasally laugh come out of his best friend.
Youichi walks to the doorway so he can greet his two other friends, complaining, “What, only my kouhai will greet me now? Kazuya, you aren’t even cooking, what’s your excuse?!”
He crosses his arms over his chest even though he’s not actually mad.
“I’m keeping the chef company! It’s common courtesy, I wouldn’t want Ryou-san to get lonely in here.”
Youichi walks up to Kazuya and leans against the counter next to him, bumping their shoulders. “Asshole. Why are we friends again?”
Ryousuke finally turns around, and Youichi steels himself like he always does when faced with Ryousuke in such a casual setting.
The shirt he’s wearing is loose, not enough to fall off a shoulder, but big enough that the collar dips down to give a peek of his collarbones. In contrast, the jeans he’s wearing are basically painted on, and it’s a good thing that his shirt is oversized, because Youichi knows that he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes to himself otherwise.
Ryousuke’s hair is a bit shorter than the last time he’d seen him, with his bangs falling just above his eyebrows. The slightest raise of them would put them out of sight, but right now his face is neutral as he looks at Youichi.
It’s then that Youichi sees that Ryousuke has a knife in one hand. “I was busy and didn’t think you needed an entourage at the door to make it inside.”
The statement is delivered without any tone, and the knife in Ryousuke’s hand makes him look entirely too dangerous. Youichi suppresses a shiver.
“Hyaha, of course not! But it wouldn’t have killed you to say hi when I came in!”
Ryousuke turns back to what he was chopping, and responds mildly, “It might have.”
Beside him, Kazuya is snickering. Youichi shoves him, knocking him off-balance enough that Kazuya has to grab the counter to avoid hitting the ground.
Always one to try to smooth things over, Eijun pops in and enthusiastically asks if Youichi wants something to drink.
It’s not his house, but Eijun looks entirely too comfortable opening up Ryousuke’s refrigerator and pulling out a few bottles of beer. Kazuya opens a drawer next to himself and pulls out a bottle opener, tossing it over to Eijun who barely avoids dropping a bottle in his haste to catch it.
The clear familiarity that these two have with Ryou-san’s home is surprising. Youichi guesses that they had all – and by all, he means Kazuya and Eijun – decided that Ryousuke’s house would be their typical place for hanging out.
“If you spill beer on my floor, you’re cleaning it up.”
Ryousuke hadn’t turned around, but Eijun still straightens himself up quickly and replies, “Yes, Onii-san! I would never dare to defile your pristine floors with such a mess! Please forgive this Sawamura Eijun’s blunder, it won’t happen again!”
He then bows at Ryousuke’s back before going back to the four bottles he’d retrieved from the refrigerator, opening them one at a time before handing them off.
Youichi grabs his and is about to take a drink from it before Eijun yells, “NO! Not yet!!”
He lowers the bottle slightly, looking at Eijun from the other side of the kitchen. “Oi oi, what’s with all the yelling?”
“We have to drink together! To celebrate you joining the team!”
Rolling his eyes, Youichi still lowers the glass bottle from his lips in acquiescence. “I travel and work all day and you still hold my beer hostage… Fine.” He looks over to where Ryousuke is pulling some plates out of a cabinet and asks, “Is everything almost ready?”
Plates hitting the countertop with a dull clang, Ryousuke turns back around and nods. “It’s ready now. You can serve yourselves,” he gestures to the counter behind him where pots of food are waiting.
Ryousuke steps forward and takes the bottle of beer from Eijun’s hand and suggests, “Go ahead and say your toast, or else I’ll start drinking.”
Eijun pales as Ryousuke immediately makes a move to bring his bottle up to his lips. “O-onii-san, wah! Wait!”
He scrambles for the bottle left on the counter behind him, grabbing it in such a quick motion that Youichi is surprised he didn’t spill anything in his hurry. Raising his bottle up high and in front of himself, Eijun shouts, “To Mochi-senpai joining the Giants!”
“All the build-up just for that?” Ryousuke’s words are admonishing, but he doesn’t actually sound disappointed in Eijun’s toast. Instead, he raises his glass to meet Eijun’s with a light clink.
Youichi and Kazuya do the same, and soon, they’re all taking their first drink together as teammates once more.
Back in university, Ryousuke wasn’t much of a chef – instead, he readily abused the dining halls on campus for his meals, and supplemented with takeout and pre-made food from the konbini.
Needless to say, Youichi is pleasantly surprised by the meal that Ryousuke had prepared. Aside from the beer that they’re all drinking, Youichi knows that the trainers on the team would approve of everything on the table in front of him.
As they finish eating and are now on their third round of drinks, they move into the living room, where each athlete still has enough room to spread out across that massive couch. They talk as they polish off their bottles, conversation and smiles coming easily between the old friends.
Even though Youichi is the one who had been traveling earlier that day, Eijun is the first to call it a night.
And by calling it a night, Youichi notes that Eijun had fallen asleep against one of the corners of the couch, curled up and snoring softly. His face is squished into the cushions, forcing his mouth open slightly.
Youichi was in the middle of telling his two still-awake companions about his packed schedule for the next week when he sees Kazuya sneaking a picture of Eijun in his peripheral vision. Glancing at Ryousuke to see if he’d caught that, he finds the pink-haired man already looking back at him with a knowing glint in his eye.
Ah, so Kazuya is still just as hopeless as ever.
Not that Youichi is really one to talk, but at least he’s less obvious about his one-sided affections. He hopes.
Continuing in his rundown of all the paperwork he has to sign, Youichi ignores Kazuya’s not-so-subtle action in favor of keeping up his conversation with Ryousuke.
But soon, the moon is high in the sky and Youichi, as much as he thinks he could stay here forever, knows that if he doesn’t start walking back to his hotel now, he’ll never make it back.
After his third long yawn in as many minutes, Ryousuke makes the call for him and tells everyone that they need to leave.
Looking to Kazuya, Ryousuke continues, “Wake him up, I don’t want any strays tonight.”
Kazuya leans over Eijun and raises a hand to his face, but instead of whatever gentle gesture Youichi thought he might give, Kazuya instead pinches Eijun’s nose until he wakes up gasping.
With a glare, he yells out, “Miyuki Kazuya!! Are you trying to kill me?!”
And honestly, Youichi has no idea how Eijun has that much energy after being dead asleep not even thirty seconds prior.
As Kazuya is dragging a loudly complaining Eijun towards the front door, Youichi pauses at the edge of the living room to turn to Ryousuke. “Do ya need any help cleaning up dinner before I go?”
One of those perfectly kept eyebrows raises up enough that it’s hidden by his bangs, while Ryousuke’s head tilts slightly to the side. “I didn’t know you learned manners. I guess people really can change.”
Youichi opens his mouth to retort, because he was just trying to be a considerate houseguest, but Ryousuke beats him to it. “No, it’s fine. I’ll clean up in the morning,” he waves a hand dismissively, “you might not make it back alive if you stay any longer. You look like you’re about to fall over.”
Shaking his head, Youichi has no choice but to listen. “Fine, your loss,” he turns towards the door, making his way over to slip on his shoes. As he opens the door, he looks back one last time to call out, “See ya later, Ryou-san.”
When Youichi makes it back to his hotel room, he just shoves off the bags that were on his bed and strips his pants and shirt off, collapsing onto the mattress. He doesn’t even plug his phone in, just maneuvers himself under the blankets and is asleep within seconds.
He wakes up to the sun shining bright through the window of his room, a glare from the building across the street reflecting right into his face. Groaning, Youichi turns over and buries his head in his pillow, refusing to let the sun win.
A few more hours of sleep later, Youichi wakes to incessant buzzing coming from the floor next to him. This time, he actually feels well-rested, so he sits up and stretches, hearing a few of his joints pop before he gets out of bed. He has to rummage through the pile of clothes he’d left on the floor to find his phone, still tucked snugly in his jeans’ pocket.
Unlocking it, he sees that his battery is at fifteen percent as he scrolls through his notifications. He’ll have to find the charger in one of his bags soon.
He finds a dozen missed emails that he’ll have to read through later.
A dozen messages from Eijun in their group chat.
One text from Ryousuke an hour ago.
Ryou-san
Did you survive the night?
Grinning at his phone, Youichi types out a quick reply.
No. I’m dead
Good luck finding another shortstop to partner with you this soon before training starts
Ryou-san
Tragic.
Maybe my next shortstop won’t be so loud.
Youichi responds with the middle finger emoji and closes out their chat, popping over to see what Eijun was spamming him about.
Turns out, most of the reporters he had talked to the night before posted their stories, and Eijun was sending all the articles for them to look at.
Kazuya had also contributed by taking a screenshot of one video where Youichi was mid-blink, mouth open while he was talking, claiming that he was making it Youichi’s profile picture on his phone.
Youichi replies with the picture he’s had for Kazuya’s contact, sending it in chat. He had taken it when they were in college, Kazuya passed out on his couch with an eye mask half off his face, mouth hanging open while he slept. It’s one of Yoichi’s most treasured photos.
He locks his phone and sets it on his nightstand, rummaging through his bags on the floor until he finds the tangled cable of his phone charger. Plugging it into the nearest outlet and connecting it to his phone, Youichi thinks through his plans for the day.
There’s nothing on his calendar, but there’s still a long list of things he wants to get done – starting with a shower and a soak in the bath.
Once again having to rifle through his luggage, Youichi grabs his travel-size bottles of soaps, his toothbrush, and a clean pair of boxers, heading into the bathroom.
He spends well over an hour in there, relishing in the steam and the hot water pouring down his skin. He feels himself relax into it, and if he hadn’t just slept in so late, he’d worry about falling asleep in the bath as he soaks.
As it stands, he’s still in there longer than he intended to be. It’s almost lunchtime by the time he gets out and dresses himself, drying off his hair and gelling it up in his usual spiked style.
Washing his hands to get that sticky feeling off, Youichi goes back into the bedroom to check his phone. It’s back up to eighty percent battery, which is plenty enough to get him through the day. He unplugs it as he makes his way into his kitchen, looking through the cabinets and refrigerator to see how much room he has.
The place came furnished, but that doesn’t mean that it’s stocked with everything he needs. He still needs pots and pans, plates and bowls, and silverware. Not to mention food.
He has his old kitchen sets from his last house sitting in storage still, so Youichi doesn’t plan on buying too much. But this hotel room isn’t big enough to justify shipping his things over yet – he’ll wait until he gets a place of his own for that.
Today is going to be a long day.
Fukuoka was an incredibly walkable city, so Youichi never really had the need to get a car while living there. And while Tokyo is also extremely walkable, he’s now regretting his decision to not have one because the list of things he needs to buy far exceeds what he can carry with two hands.
Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t know if any of his friends in Tokyo have a car, either.
He pulls out his phone and sends a message to their group chat.
Do any of you have a car?
I have a lot of shopping to do, and only two hands
Bakamura
Nope! I don’t even have a license
But Miyuki Kazuya and Onii-san both have one
Though Kazuya never drives me anywhere, so he probably wont offer
He’s rude like that
Maybe he just doesn’t want to be locked in a car with your loud ass
Kazuya
That’s exactly it
Mochi, I can leave in half an hour if you send your address
Bakamura
MIYUKI KAZUYA
HOW DARE YOU!!!!!!
Youichi sends his address to the group, and goes to grab his wallet and his leather jacket.
While he would have loved to have Ryou-san be the one to drive him around, he’s not actually mad about getting to spend time with Kazuya. As much as they’re best friends, they don’t spend much time alone together. He supposes this is a good opportunity to catch up, and maybe give him shit for the photos he saw Kazuya taking last night.
After running downstairs to the small cafe connected to his hotel for a quick bite to eat, he decides to be productive while waiting for Kazuya, and spends the rest of his time unpacking the bags that he brought with him. He folds up some clothes and stores them in the dresser provided with his room, and hangs up his shirts and nicer clothes. He somewhat organizes his bathroom products, placing them either on the sink counter or next to the shower.
He really hadn’t brought much with him, all things considered. But this is just a temporary home, Youichi reminds himself, and he’ll have the rest of his things as soon as he settles on a permanent place to live.
Which, he knows he won’t be able to get around to looking for a place to buy in the next week or two, given how packed his schedule is. He just hopes he can find somewhere to stay before spring training starts in February.
Youichi grabs his phone again and checks it, seeing that Kazuya had texted that he was on his way just a couple minutes ago. Not wanting to make Kazuya wait for him – not because he cares, but because Kazuya would be insufferable about it – Youichi makes his way downstairs to the lobby to wait out the last few minutes.
He reclines on a chair in the lobby, once again pulling out his phone to bide his time. He’s just browsing through some of the emails that he needs to read, clicking on one that looks important and making a note to himself to check on it when he gets back in from shopping.
He sighs to himself, obviously thrilled to be playing for the Giants, but more than ready for all of this pre-season nonsense to be over with. He hates paperwork, hates being in limbo, and honestly, just wants to be on the field already.
Four days until Saturday, which is his next no-meetings day. Maybe…
Youichi’s phone vibrates in his hand, breaking his train of thought, a text from Kazuya letting him know that he’s waiting out front. He stands, walking quickly over to the front door and making his way down to the road where Kazuya had pulled to the side with his hazards on while he waits.
Opening the door and hopping in, Youichi quickly buckles so Kazuya can get going.
“Thanks for the ride,” he says. Kazuya has the radio playing quietly, just loud enough that the sounds of the car’s motor are hard to make out, but not so loud as to interfere with any conversation.
Kazuya huffs a breath, waving a hand at Youichi in dismissal of his thanks. “Where are we going? You never said.”
Youichi pauses and realizes that he doesn’t know, either. “Uh. Shopping?”
There’s a few seconds where Kazuya doesn’t say anything at all.
“You don’t know.” Not a question, but a statement.
“I just moved here! I don’t know where to buy kitchen things! Cut me some slack.”
Kazuya takes the car out of park and turns off his hazards, looking over his shoulder as he starts to pull back onto the road. “You’re lucky I’m the one driving you and not Ryou-san. He’d eat you alive if he was the one picking you up.”
Getting eaten alive by Ryou-san doesn’t sound that bad, actually.
But Youichi knows that he would have made a big deal over Youichi’s lack of planning.
“It’s a good thing I have such a kind and understanding best friend then,” Youichi replies, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He continues, “And, I assume you know where we’re going?”
He only gets a distant hum in reply from Kazuya.
After another ten minutes of driving, Kazuya pulls into a very recognizable public parking lot and tells Youichi, “We’re here.”
Before either man has gotten out of the car, Youichi already knows where he’s been taken.
“This is a Don Quixote."
A snicker from Kazuya. “Yes, and they have literally everything you’re looking for. You’re not looking for anything fancy, I assume, since you’ll be shipping your things from your old place here once you find somewhere to buy.”
Kazuya isn’t wrong, but…
“Everyone goes here. We’re going to be recognized immediately. My face is actively trending online right now, you jackass!”
Youichi wishes he could strangle that stupid laugh out of Kazuya’s throat. But at this point, they’re already parked, and Youichi does need a lot for his hotel room.
“They’re going to recognize you too, you know. It’s not like you’re an unfamiliar face in Tokyo.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, wishing he knew that he was being taken here so he could have worn something more discreet. “Do you have face masks in here? We can at least try to not be obvious.”
“You’re no fun,” Kazuya chides. But he continues anyways, “In the glove compartment in front of you is a fresh pack.”
Youichi pulls out two and tosses one at Kazuya’s face, slamming the door of the compartment closed with entirely too much force. Kazuya winces slightly at the rough treatment, but smartly doesn’t say anything.
Donning the black masks, the two get out of the car and walk over to the entrance of the building.
This isn’t Youichi’s first time in a Donki, but it is the first time he’s been in one since he became a starter for the Hawks. Especially in cities where their teams are popular, Youichi has tried to stay out of crowded, every-day stores like this to avoid the inconvenience of meeting fans and getting his picture taken.
He’s thankful for the people who follow his career, really. But Youichi has never been one to enjoy being so front-and-center. He just wants to play the sport he loves and exist quietly.
Stepping into the store, Kazuya immediately steers them towards the stairs to go up, telling him, “The home section is upstairs, we can skip this floor.”
Surprisingly helpful of him, Youichi thinks.
The staircase leads them to another floor of packed shelves and colorful merchandise.
Once again, Kazuya leads Youichi to the right, knowing exactly where he’s going.
“How many times have you shopped here?” The level of familiarity that Kazuya has with this specific Donki is frankly concerning. He wouldn’t have pegged Kazuya as the kind of guy to frequent the place, especially not since becoming famous.
“A few,” comes his vague reply.
And Youichi won’t argue that it’s a good store, but once again… why?
As they turn down an aisle that Kazuya claims will lead them towards the kitchen and food area, Youichi quickly figures out why Kazuya has brought him here.
At the end of this aisle, at the intersection between a few others, is a stand advertising Pocari Sweat. Which isn’t surprising, since it’s a popular sports drink.
But what is surprising is the multiple life-size cardboard cutouts of people surrounding the stand.
And they’re not just anyone, but of Kazuya himself, as well as Eijun and two other players on the Giants.
Sadly, there’s not one of Ryousuke.
“…I’m going to kill you.”
Kazuya’s nasally laugh rings out in the store, catching the attention of a few nearby shoppers. Youichi kicks Kazuya in the back, hissing out, “Shut up!”
“We took the pictures for these a month ago! I heard they went up last week and figured this would be a good excuse to come see them.” Kazuya looks entirely too happy for someone staring at a cardboard cutout of himself. “You should take a picture of me next to it!”
“Fine, but we have to be quick! I don’t want to cause a scene, I’m literally just here to grab a pot and some plates so I can eat at the hotel.”
It’s times like this that Youichi wonders why he’s friends with Kazuya.
Pushing down the embarrassment he feels from taking a picture in such a public place, he aims his camera at Kazuya, who has pulled down his face mask and is standing between the cutout of himself and Eijun, throwing up a peace sign.
Youichi takes a bunch before walking back up to Kazuya and pulling on his mask, snapping it back in place.
“There, I got your pictures. Now let's get out of here before –”
“Oh! Are you Miyuki Kazuya?” The voice of an energetic woman comes from behind him, and Youichi cringes at her volume. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid.
Youichi doesn’t turn around, hoping that if she doesn’t get a good look at him, he can be spared from this interaction.
Except, he’s best friends with the world’s number one asshole.
In front of him, Kazuya pulls down his face mask again, plastering on that awful smirk he always wears when facing the public. “I am!” He raises a hand to his face, putting a finger up to his lips, “Don’t tell anyone though, I’m just here taking my good friend Kuramochi Youichi shopping!”
The glint in Kazuya’s eyes is downright evil.
The woman gasps, walking between them so she can get a look at Youichi.
“Oh my god, you’re Kuramochi Youichi! I saw all the articles about you this morning, I’m so excited for you to join the Giants!” She’s practically bouncing where she stands, obviously star-struck having run into not one, but two famous baseball players at Donki of all places.
At this point, it’s too late to quietly slip out. He pulls down his mask too, flashing a grin that he doesn’t feel, telling the woman, “Thank you for being a fan! What’s your name?”
“Nagasaki Mariko, it’s so nice to meet you!” She takes a half step forward, fumbling with her purse as she pulls out her phone. “Um, would it be okay if I took a picture with you two? My friends would never believe me otherwise!”
“Hyaha! Of course!” Youichi plays the part of a player devoted to his fans perfectly. He walks up next to her, plucking the phone out of her hand once she has the camera app open and turning it to selfie mode.
Kazuya comes up on her other side, once again wearing that smirk and throwing up a peace sign. Youichi grins into the camera as the woman beside him blushes, smiling wide. She presses a bit closer to Youichi, putting a hand on his free arm right before he takes their picture.
He snaps a few to make sure she has at least one good one, handing back her phone with a wink, telling her, “There ya go, we have to get back to our shopping now, but I hope you have a good day!”
She bows to him, thanking them profusely for their time and the pictures before she scurries off, probably to send that picture to all of her friends and possibly even post it online.
Once she’s out of sight, Youichi turns to Kazuya with a glare, “That was entirely your fault. If articles are talking about baseball players shopping at Donki, just know, it is your fault.”
Snickering, Kazuya brushes off Youichi’s words. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re the one that was flirting with the fan, though.” He grins, but this time the smile on his face is genuine, not that fake painted-on smirk. “That was fun, you should send those pictures you took of me to the group chat, I want to see them.”
With a huff, Youichi pulls out his phone and looks through the dozen photos he’d taken of Kazuya, unfortunately finding that Kazuya had looked good in all of them. Stupid pretty boy catcher.
“Fine, there you go.” He sends off the text, putting his phone back into his pocket when he’s done. “Can we actually shop now? I have a lot of shit I need to do before all those meetings start tomorrow, you know.”
The rest of their shopping trip is uneventful, thankfully. Youichi ends up filling his shopping cart with plates and bowls, a pot and a pan, some utensils to cook and eat with, and a pile of food.
He’s not the best chef out there, but the trainers on the Swallows were adamant that he cook for himself during the season, threatening serious action if he relied too heavily on takeout.
Which, takeout food can be plenty healthy if it’s from the right place, thank you very much!
But Youichi had still relented and learned to cook some simple dishes for himself, and found that he doesn’t actually hate cooking at all.
He’s not like Kazuya, who genuinely enjoys cooking, and he can tell from the one meal that Ryousuke had cooked for him that he’s not as good as him, either. Youichi takes solace in the fact that he knows he’s still better than Eijun, at least. That bar is set pretty low, though; he’d seen Eijun burn cup ramen in the microwave in university.
It was so bad that it set off the smoke alarm and the whole building had to evacuate. Youichi had laughed so hard that night that he thought he was going to be sore the next day, and he’s never let Eijun live it down. He even has a picture of a dejected-looking Eijun standing outside his dorm building, a firetruck in the background as the other occupants chatter to each other about why the alarm had gone off.
When Youichi is ready to check out, Kazuya gets a call and signals that he’s going ahead while Youichi waits in line.
Youichi thanks the person checking him out, bagging all of his items as neatly as he can, wanting to avoid any risk of the fragile items breaking. He takes the cart over to the parking garage, which is thankfully connected to Donki, so he doesn’t have to carry all these bags over himself.
He sees Kazuya standing outside his car, laughing into the phone that’s raised to his ear as he talks to someone.
Youichi thinks that it’s probably Eijun.
Kazuya is no stranger to ignoring phone calls that he doesn’t want to take – Youichi is pretty sure that the only person Kazuya wouldn’t ignore a call from is Eijun.
…actually, no.
Kazuya wouldn’t ignore a call from Ryousuke either, but that would be out of fear rather than genuine desire to talk to him, so it doesn’t quite count.
As he approaches Kazuya, he sees the man hang up and pocket his phone, turning towards Youichi and opening up his trunk for him to load his things into.
“Who were you talking to?” Youichi asks. He’s not afraid to be nosey, and he really does want to know. Especially if it was Eijun.
Kazuya grabs a bag from the cart and sits it down in his trunk, telling Youichi, “It was just Bakamura. He likes to call me whenever he gets bored, which unfortunately happens a lot.”
Kazuya’s words are dismissive, but there’s no hiding the pleased shine in his eyes.
“Unfortunately, huh?” Youichi teases. Not giving Kazuya a chance to respond, he grabs a bag to load up and continues, “And those pictures you snuck of Eijun last night were nothing, too, right?”
Kazuya’s hand stills over a bag for a split second before grabbing it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
And Youichi isn’t at all surprised at Kazuya’s deflection – he’d never actually addressed the obvious crush Kazuya had been harboring on Eijun over the years. But if they’re going to be on the same team, in the same city, and seeing each other more often…
Kazuya has to know that Youichi knows. It would be miserable to have to hide his disgust every time Kazuya makes those stupid heart eyes at Eijun when he thinks no one is looking. And between Youichi and Ryousuke, one of them is always looking.
At least Youichi isn’t as overt about his feelings as Kazuya. He’s got a loud personality, but he learned quickly how to mask those pesky emotions that he didn’t want seen.
Youichi smirks as he grabs the last bag out of the cart, glancing over at Kazuya’s too-neutral face. “Sure you don’t. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want, but there’s no need for you to pretend.” He loads the bag into the trunk and steps back, closing the door. “It’s obvious from my perspective, but I’m positive that Eijun doesn’t know. Ryou-san, on the other hand…”
Kazuya groans, face scrunching up in displeasure. “Ugh, no, why would you tell me that?”
Youichi cackles, taking the cart back to a cart return. “If I have to see your stupid face looking at Eijun whenever you think no one is watching you, it’ll make me feel better if you at least feel a bit of shame about it.”
Something in Kazuya’s face flickers at Youichi’s words, making him pause. He puts the cart back and turns to Kazuya, quickly making his way to the car again.
“What was that face for?”
Kazuya opens his door and gets in, so Youichi follows. “I didn’t make a face.”
It’s a lie, and they both know it.
“Yes you did.”
Kazuya looks away from Youichi, pretending to search for his keys in his pocket. “You must be seeing things.”
After a few seconds of silence, Youichi’s eyes widen as he comes to a realization: he and Kazuya have never talked about their sexuality before. Youichi had only ever shown outward interest in women even though he knew that he was bisexual, and he’d always known that Kazuya was gay, even if Kazuya had never told Youichi that himself. It had never come up in conversation.
Did Kazuya think…?
Youichi decides to make sure there’s no misunderstanding about his words. “Oi, do you think I’m homophobic? I meant you should feel shame about liking Eijun, not about liking men. I don’t care that he’s a man, I just think you have bad taste.” He laughs again, delighted in the affronted squawk that comes from Kazuya after his words land. He’s also relieved to see that Kazuya’s shoulders visibly relax.
“Hey, I didn’t choose to –” Kazuya cuts himself off, not finishing that sentence.
Grin spreading across his face, Youichi pushes, “Choose to what, exactly? Finally going to admit it?”
Kazuya starts the car, ignoring Youichi. He pulls out of the parking space, making his way back out of the lot to head back to Youichi’s hotel.
“Fine, you don’t have to tell me. But just know…” he waits for Kazuya to hum in acknowledgment that he’s listening, “if you hurt the idiot, I’ll kill you.”
“Oi, aren’t you worried about me getting hurt?!”
“He’s not the one with a twisted personality. Even if he rejected you, he’d be nice about it and still want you to catch for him.” He takes a breath, pitying Kazuya a bit. “Not that I think he’d reject you.”
Youichi doesn’t actually think that either of the two idiots would hurt each other, but his brotherly affection for Eijun made him feel like the threat was necessary. And with how slow and stupid Kazuya is being about this whole thing…
Well, Youichi really can’t be one to judge.
But he’s pretty sure Eijun likes Kazuya in return, just like he’s also pretty sure that Eijun himself doesn’t recognize his own feelings. His head is full of baseballs rattling around instead of a real brain.
It’ll take Kazuya making the first move for something to happen between those two, and Youichi is positive that Kazuya would rather die than talk to Eijun about his feelings. Emotionally stunted asshole.
Maybe this is why they’re best friends; they’re really alike, in that regard.
Youichi drops the topic for now, not actually wanting to push Kazuya into anything. He just wanted his friend to know that his pining was obvious and that he will be made fun of for it for the foreseeable future.
If Kazuya ever finds out about Youichi’s feelings… he’ll never live it down. He shudders to think of the repercussions of Kazuya finding out after Youichi has spent time hounding Kazuya over his crush.