#11: FIC: and from this gutter we're still staring at the stars, PG
Title: And From This Gutter We're Still Staring At The Stars
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte
Pairing: Abe/Mihashi
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Ten Drabbles. It is then that Abe regrets his bold promise not to get injured for three years, to catch all of Mihashi's pitches. - set in the future
Disclaimer: All not mine.
Notes: This story revolves around Sokeisen, the highly anticipated series between Waseda University and Keio University in the Tokyo Big 6 Baseball League. It has recently been made even more popular with the addition of Yuki Saito to the Sodai team.
I
After the sixth inning at Koshien Momokan grabs his left arm and hisses, don't you dare, Abe Takaya, don't you dare think of catching any pitches in this condition. He doesn't listen, merely tapes up his hand and ignores the pain. They win the championship for the third year running; Abe loses his left wrist.
“I'm sorry,” says Mihashi, when he gets the offer to join Sodai's baseball club. It is then that Abe regrets his bold promise not to get injured for three years, to catch all of Mihashi's pitches. That was foolish. He should have promised forever instead.
II
“Tenosynovitis,” Tajima reads. “Is that bad?”
“Combined with tendonitis and a fractured thumb, it is,” says Hanai. “This sort of thing gets better. You just need rest.”
The doctor had said something to a similar effect, though his exact words had been, you just need to stop playing baseball. “I'm fine,” Abe says, meaning quite the opposite, but it's never been in Abe's nature to share such things. He's survived Haruna's bruises before; there's no reason why he shouldn't survive this - it's merely a different type of challenge.
“Well,” interjects Tajima meaningfully, “At least it isn't your right hand.”
III
They share a room, a toilet and a refrigerator shelf in the kitchen downstairs, but Abe finds that it doesn't make Mihashi any more fathomable than he was when they'd first met.
Abe is awoken at four in the morning by a persistent buzzing sound, only to discover Mihashi doing stretches at the foot of his bed. He realises after a disoriented moment that the sound is Mihashi humming.
“Quit it,” mumbles Abe with as much venom as he can muster, scratching his neck and rolling over.
The buzzing stops. Abe can feel Mihashi staring at him from across the tiny room.
IV
“I'm becoming and old man,” he tells Mihashi over breakfast.
Mihashi, with his mouth full, makes a garbled mmgfh? sound and looks quizzical.
“My wrist aches when its about to rain.” Abe's aiming for wry, but it comes out wrong; Mihashi chokes in mortification.
“I'm sorry,” Mihashi says in a low voice, after much back thumping and misapplication of the Heimlich maneuver.
“You should be,” Abe retorts, face still smarting from when Mihashi had hit him mid-flail.
Mihashi twitches. “No, I mean- I- I wish we were still a battery.”
Abe's first thought is, me too, but he says, instead, “Forget that.”
V
Abe accompanies Mihashi to baseball practice one afternoon, and regrets it almost immediately. He meets their catcher, a second-year named Suzuki, who beams as he calls out, “Again, please, Mihashi-kun,” during pitching practise, all smiles and polite chatter.
They train harder, at university level; it's evident that Mihashi's aim is more precise, his form even better. His senpai call him 'Ace' even though he's a freshman. Abe expects that. He's expected Mihashi to fit in. What he hasn't expected is how much he misses baseball, how the solid sound of ball impacting mitt is enough to make him turn and leave.
VI
Tajima's gone pro; Hanai's studying to be a doctor. Sakaeguchi and Izumi both play for Keio, and the others have found their way to good universities. They always promise to schedule a meetup or a casual game, but Hanai never succeeds in orchestrating one.
“I suppose we're all too busy,” he tells Abe, when they meet completely by chance at a train station. His eyes dart to Abe's left hand for just a second, long enough for Abe to notice.
Abe shrugs. “Things just change.”
“Some things don't,” says Hanai. “You still have Mihashi.”
“Yes,” Abe replies, “And Mihashi has baseball.”
VII
His mother visits while Mihashi is still at practice, insisting on helping him tidy the hovel that is their dorm room before going out for lunch.
“The thing is, Takaya,” she says, handing him a stack of empty takeaway boxes, “I still don't understand why you didn't go to Todai after all. You certainly did well enough.”
The day Mihashi got scouted for Waseda, he'd come running to ask Abe which university he was going to. Yours, of course, Abe had replied. He remembers watching Mihashi's face light up.
“Sodai's baseball team is better,” he tells his mother. “That's why.”
VIII
Mihashi's first official game of the spring season coincides with an important deadline for Abe, making him unable to attend.
“Mizutani and Nishihiro are going.”
“That's because they're supporting Todai-”
“-Which you're going to beat,” finishes Abe.
“I'm only a good pitcher because of you,” says Mihashi, with a hesitant earnestness that makes something twist and settle heavily in Abe's chest.
“You're a good pitcher because of you,” he replies. In one reckless movement he leans over and presses his lips to the side of Mihashi's face.
“That wasn't a kiss,” Abe clarifies hurriedly, when Mihashi seems unable to move.
IX
Abe misses the match against Hosei, and the two after, with Rikkio. Every time this happens he tells Mihashi it's because he's busy, offering him a tentative not-kiss at the door - for luck, they tell each other. Sodai wins every game.
The morning of the game against Meiji, Abe brushes Mihashi's lips by accident.
“Sorry,” says Abe. “That was disgusting.” He's still apologising when Mihashi kisses back.
With lips parted and their tongues sliding together there is nothing hesitant, nothing wrong; it is sloppy and dizzying and right.
“I wish-” says Mihashi, breathlessly, “I just wish you'd watch my games.”
X
The sky is pouring by the time the game ends, with Keio striking out and Waseda winning the championship. Abe sits in the stands, sandwiched between Mihashi's mother and a group of girls who are, oddly enough, bawling their eyes out. Down below, Mihashi's teammates are hoisting him above their shoulders, throwing him up in the air; knocking his cap off and replacing it.
“Aren't you proud of him?” Mihashi's mother shouts at him, over the noise of the crowd, in an odd reversal of parent and friend.
“Your son just won Sokeisen,” Abe yells back, “Of course I'm proud.”
End
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte
Pairing: Abe/Mihashi
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Ten Drabbles. It is then that Abe regrets his bold promise not to get injured for three years, to catch all of Mihashi's pitches. - set in the future
Disclaimer: All not mine.
Notes: This story revolves around Sokeisen, the highly anticipated series between Waseda University and Keio University in the Tokyo Big 6 Baseball League. It has recently been made even more popular with the addition of Yuki Saito to the Sodai team.
I
After the sixth inning at Koshien Momokan grabs his left arm and hisses, don't you dare, Abe Takaya, don't you dare think of catching any pitches in this condition. He doesn't listen, merely tapes up his hand and ignores the pain. They win the championship for the third year running; Abe loses his left wrist.
“I'm sorry,” says Mihashi, when he gets the offer to join Sodai's baseball club. It is then that Abe regrets his bold promise not to get injured for three years, to catch all of Mihashi's pitches. That was foolish. He should have promised forever instead.
II
“Tenosynovitis,” Tajima reads. “Is that bad?”
“Combined with tendonitis and a fractured thumb, it is,” says Hanai. “This sort of thing gets better. You just need rest.”
The doctor had said something to a similar effect, though his exact words had been, you just need to stop playing baseball. “I'm fine,” Abe says, meaning quite the opposite, but it's never been in Abe's nature to share such things. He's survived Haruna's bruises before; there's no reason why he shouldn't survive this - it's merely a different type of challenge.
“Well,” interjects Tajima meaningfully, “At least it isn't your right hand.”
III
They share a room, a toilet and a refrigerator shelf in the kitchen downstairs, but Abe finds that it doesn't make Mihashi any more fathomable than he was when they'd first met.
Abe is awoken at four in the morning by a persistent buzzing sound, only to discover Mihashi doing stretches at the foot of his bed. He realises after a disoriented moment that the sound is Mihashi humming.
“Quit it,” mumbles Abe with as much venom as he can muster, scratching his neck and rolling over.
The buzzing stops. Abe can feel Mihashi staring at him from across the tiny room.
IV
“I'm becoming and old man,” he tells Mihashi over breakfast.
Mihashi, with his mouth full, makes a garbled mmgfh? sound and looks quizzical.
“My wrist aches when its about to rain.” Abe's aiming for wry, but it comes out wrong; Mihashi chokes in mortification.
“I'm sorry,” Mihashi says in a low voice, after much back thumping and misapplication of the Heimlich maneuver.
“You should be,” Abe retorts, face still smarting from when Mihashi had hit him mid-flail.
Mihashi twitches. “No, I mean- I- I wish we were still a battery.”
Abe's first thought is, me too, but he says, instead, “Forget that.”
V
Abe accompanies Mihashi to baseball practice one afternoon, and regrets it almost immediately. He meets their catcher, a second-year named Suzuki, who beams as he calls out, “Again, please, Mihashi-kun,” during pitching practise, all smiles and polite chatter.
They train harder, at university level; it's evident that Mihashi's aim is more precise, his form even better. His senpai call him 'Ace' even though he's a freshman. Abe expects that. He's expected Mihashi to fit in. What he hasn't expected is how much he misses baseball, how the solid sound of ball impacting mitt is enough to make him turn and leave.
VI
Tajima's gone pro; Hanai's studying to be a doctor. Sakaeguchi and Izumi both play for Keio, and the others have found their way to good universities. They always promise to schedule a meetup or a casual game, but Hanai never succeeds in orchestrating one.
“I suppose we're all too busy,” he tells Abe, when they meet completely by chance at a train station. His eyes dart to Abe's left hand for just a second, long enough for Abe to notice.
Abe shrugs. “Things just change.”
“Some things don't,” says Hanai. “You still have Mihashi.”
“Yes,” Abe replies, “And Mihashi has baseball.”
VII
His mother visits while Mihashi is still at practice, insisting on helping him tidy the hovel that is their dorm room before going out for lunch.
“The thing is, Takaya,” she says, handing him a stack of empty takeaway boxes, “I still don't understand why you didn't go to Todai after all. You certainly did well enough.”
The day Mihashi got scouted for Waseda, he'd come running to ask Abe which university he was going to. Yours, of course, Abe had replied. He remembers watching Mihashi's face light up.
“Sodai's baseball team is better,” he tells his mother. “That's why.”
VIII
Mihashi's first official game of the spring season coincides with an important deadline for Abe, making him unable to attend.
“Mizutani and Nishihiro are going.”
“That's because they're supporting Todai-”
“-Which you're going to beat,” finishes Abe.
“I'm only a good pitcher because of you,” says Mihashi, with a hesitant earnestness that makes something twist and settle heavily in Abe's chest.
“You're a good pitcher because of you,” he replies. In one reckless movement he leans over and presses his lips to the side of Mihashi's face.
“That wasn't a kiss,” Abe clarifies hurriedly, when Mihashi seems unable to move.
IX
Abe misses the match against Hosei, and the two after, with Rikkio. Every time this happens he tells Mihashi it's because he's busy, offering him a tentative not-kiss at the door - for luck, they tell each other. Sodai wins every game.
The morning of the game against Meiji, Abe brushes Mihashi's lips by accident.
“Sorry,” says Abe. “That was disgusting.” He's still apologising when Mihashi kisses back.
With lips parted and their tongues sliding together there is nothing hesitant, nothing wrong; it is sloppy and dizzying and right.
“I wish-” says Mihashi, breathlessly, “I just wish you'd watch my games.”
X
The sky is pouring by the time the game ends, with Keio striking out and Waseda winning the championship. Abe sits in the stands, sandwiched between Mihashi's mother and a group of girls who are, oddly enough, bawling their eyes out. Down below, Mihashi's teammates are hoisting him above their shoulders, throwing him up in the air; knocking his cap off and replacing it.
“Aren't you proud of him?” Mihashi's mother shouts at him, over the noise of the crowd, in an odd reversal of parent and friend.
“Your son just won Sokeisen,” Abe yells back, “Of course I'm proud.”
End