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Matchmaker

This is an exchange fic I wrote for the lovely Dale. <3

Summary: Chris is always there to help his underclassmen and peers out with their slightly messy love lives.

Word Count: 7048

“You needed something, Jun?”

Chris pokes his head around the door, and steps fully inside when he sees that Isashiki is alone at his desk.

“Huh? Oh, yeah… Yeah. Come in.”

The other startles, as if he’s been zoning out, and Chris’s brows draw together a little in worry. “Are you alright?”

Isashiki looks around him as if checking to see that no one’s entered behind him, and nods, offering a grin. “You know that English essay that’s due tomorrow?”

Chris has to take a moment, and then remembers - it was supposed to be about a person who deserved to be admired, and he’d made it a point to finish it the day after it was assigned. He’s not completely sure if that’s the only thing his friend is worried about, though. “I do,” he says, pulling up a chair. “I’m guessing you left it until the last minute?”

Groaning, the other puts his head down on top of folded arms on the desk. “It’s not that I don’t know what to write about, it’s that I can’t express the idea in English.”

“You’re right, it is hard.” Thankfully, this is a problem Chris can deal with. English has never been a huge problem for him, having being raised by Jorge Animal, but he knows Isashiki and some of their fellow third years struggle with it even now.

“I’d be happy to help you,” he offers, patting his back comfortingly. “Do you have some ideas or drafts of what you wanted to write about?”

Isashiki nods and lifts his head to rummage through the papers on the desk. Chris notes the alarming amount of crossed out words on some pages and wonders if that’s part of his draft, but the other pushes those aside and picks up a couple pages with just a few words on each line.

“I could’ve made it easy and wrote about you or something,” Jun mutters. “But no… I had to get it all mixed up in my head.”

“Me?” Chris is genuinely curious, and lifts an eyebrow. “I’m not looking for someone to admire me enough to write about me.”

“But we all do!” Jun nearly glares at him. “We all respect you a hell of a lot, for good reason. Own up to it, already.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “Sorry.”

Chris smiles a little. “I’m flattered, really, but there’s nothing noteworthy about me that can’t be attributed to any of you.”

“You’re too modest.” Jun shakes his head, sighs a little. “But anyway, I decided to… Um.” There’s an internal struggle that Chris can see plainly on his face, and he waits patiently for him to sort himself out, hoping that his silent encouragement shows.

“I kinda… decided to write on Tetsu.” Immediately, he adds, “You know, ‘cause he was a damn good captain who inspired everyone on the team, among… other things.”

If Chris isn’t blind - which he isn’t - Jun almost seems shy about something. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the mention of a certain fellow third year of theirs is the primary cause.

He knows Jun well enough to know that he'll probably skirt around the problem, so he prompts gently, “Other things?”

“Hah?”

Chris might just have to try a subtler track, judging from the way he notes Jun’s shoulders trying to merge with his ears. “Well, if you want to get over the word count, you'll need to talk about the traits he has that make him admirable and inspiring, as well as examples to prove it.”

“Oh!” There’s a visible release of tension as his shoulders sink to an acceptable level again, and Chris inwardly breathes a sigh of relief. “Well… He’s dependable, for a start. If we’re talking specifically baseball, there’s just the immediate feeling of trust that ‘There’s our captain, all the hard work he puts in will shine through.’” Jun looks off to the side, pensive. “And of course, he’s got a cool head on his shoulders, always thinks things through before stepping up to the plate or giving advice or anything, leads through actions. There’s also the responsibility and accountability - he’s not afraid to shoulder and balance all the work he can handle, and knows his limits. Doesn’t commit to something unless he knows he can follow through, and always does.”

Chris has been taking notes in both English and Japanese the whole time, having pulled a blank sheet of paper toward him, but also mental notes. Every gesture and action is telling. The turn of his head, for starters, that seems to say if he doesn’t look directly at Chris, he can deny what he’s saying. The slight upward tilt of his mouth, gentle and almost fond. The near awe in his voice, and if Chris isn’t imagining it, a touch of regret.

Maybe Isashiki, with his loud, brash exterior and soft, modest, shoujo insides, needs a bit of a wake-up call, and a blunt one.

“So you have feelings for him.” It’s not a question.

The outburst is immediate and very, very telling. “What?! No, no. No. He’s…” His hands are a flurry of motion, trying to wave off any and all assertions. “He’s Tetsu,” he finishes weakly, and finally meets Chris’s eyes. Chris is unmoved, if only for Isashiki’s sake, and fails to keep his expression neutral, smiling a little knowingly.

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

“Not so.” Chris extends his arms with his notes toward him. “Maybe you should make two copies of your essay.”

“Huh? Why… oh.” He frowns incredulously at the former catcher. “That’s not going to work. Again, he’s Tetsu.”

“I think that no matter the outcome, you won’t regret talking to him,” Chris says firmly. “Or if it’s easier, writing down what you admire about him might help you sort things out. But it does have to do with him, so if he finds out he might ask to see it anyway. Better you go to him first, yes?”

Isashiki stares at him for all of three seconds. “I hate that you’re always right,” he finally mutters.

He chuckles. “You’re welcome, Jun.”

“Jun?” The door opens and Yuuki steps inside. “I lent you my - oh, hello, Chris. Am I interrupting?”

Isashiki hurriedly scrambles to gather all the papers into one pile and shoots Chris a panicked look. Chris isn’t about to be the mediator or intrude on a private conversation, but he’s not against giving them a push in the right direction.

He stands, shaking his head. “Not at all, I was just leaving.”

“No you’re not!” Isashiki’s voice comes out a little higher than normal, and he coughs and clears it. “I mean, Tetsu, your - Chris just - oh hell.”

Chris had just been about to clap him on the shoulder and tell him he’s ready and shouldn’t overthink it, but Isashiki stands by himself and storms toward a very bewildered Tetsu, grabbing his wrist and dragging him outside.

Well.

He smiles a little to himself, and waits a moment before exiting the room himself.

They’ll be alright.

It’s on a particularly warm day for the team when Chris first starts noticing the glances he’s getting, from a very unlikely source.

He can count the number of conversations he’s had with the younger Kominato on one hand, so it comes as a surprise when he joins Kataoka in the dugout and notices Haruichi looking at him from second base during fielding practice. Once he notices he’s caught Chris’s attention, however, he ducks his head and turns his focus back to the task at hand.

While it’s strange, Chris doesn’t give it much thought, carrying on his conversation with the coach about who he’s thinking of promoting from second string.

It happens again as he’s passing him in the hall at school. This time, Haruichi falters in his conversation with one of his classmates and his hand twitches, as if he can reach out to physically stop Chris as he walks past him.

Excusing himself from talking to Sakai and Tanba for a moment, he stops close to Haruichi. “May I help you in some way?”

The pink-haired boy shakes his head vigorously. “Ah, no! No, it’s alright, Chris-senpai. Thank you, though!” He bows deeply, and Chris blinks once, in confusion.

“Alright… Well, I’ll see you later, then.” He nods politely at him and moves back toward his companions.

“What was that about?” Sakai asks as they start again in the direction they were headed.

Chris frowns a little, shrugging. “I’m not sure. He seemed to want to ask me something, but changed his mind…”

“He was looking at you nervously before school too,” Tanba says, as if he’d just remembered. “I mean, you are attractive.”

That gives him pause. Could Haruichi be building himself up to a confession? He’s not honestly sure if he’s seen Haruichi act this way toward any of the other upperclassmen, at least, and might be holding back because he’s a third year with impending graduation.

Chris tries to put it out of his mind, and doesn’t notice anything until after practice a few days later.

He wants to see as much of his underclassmen’s growth as he can, so he tries to make it to several practices a week. He’s brought a textbook or two this time too, hoping to do at least some during whatever time he isn’t distracted.

“Chris-senpai?”

The voice is soft but strong, and he looks up at Haruichi, offering a smile and a polite nod in greeting. “Hello, Haruichi-kun. Did you need something?”

Haruichi’s obviously a little worn out from practice, still sweaty and fiddling with the glove on one of his hands. “Yes… I kind of need to talk to you, senpai. Could you stay for just a moment longer? I’ll try my best not to take up too much of your time. I know you’re busy.”

He shrugs and gestures to the spot on the bench next to him. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

“Well… not really. I’m sorry to come to you about this, but I thought you might have some good advice.”

Oh. Not a confession, then. He’d been mentally preparing himself to let him down gently just in case, but his chest loosens in relief as he lets out a breath.

“I’ll do my best,” he promises, glancing at his page number and closing the book. “Go ahead and explain.”

He hesitates a moment longer, fiddling with his glove, then starts slowly. “Well there’s… a certain someone. He’s not the most expressive person, but he’s kind, I can tell, and shows it in tiny ways that most people miss. And sometimes when the world is noisy and chaotic, he’s like a quiet moment, and always makes me feel comfortable.”

Chris thinks he knows where this is going, but lets him continue.

“I’m sorry if that’s a little personal, but I just…” He twists his hands with a little bit of anguish. “I really like him. But that’s all I know. I don’t know how to go on from there, or if I want to take that risk. I’m a little lost, I guess.”

He looks up at Chris, and his heart goes out to him. “Does he know?”

“No…” Haruichi bites down on his lip anxiously. “I - Well, I was planning to tell him, but I think… He’s always so focused on his pitching that I wouldn’t - I mean--” He cuts himself off, clenching his hands around his glove a little tighter.

Chris thinks of a certain young pitcher that puts his all into pitching, that has a long way to go in both pitching and people skills but a lot of potential. If memory serves him right, he recalls a time where a butterfly had landed on a baseball while both said pitcher and Haruichi were using the batting cages. The two youngsters had crouched around it, trying to cup their hands around it at the same time to protect it from the wind. He remembers that Haruichi had blushed and withdrawn his hands quickly, and how the other had looked up at him as the butterfly startled from the sudden movement. As it flew away, Furuya had said something which made Haruichi blush further.

There’s a few other instances where they’d seemed closer than he’d expected, but he’s never had to give it much thought until now. Still…

“I think you should go for it.”

Haruichi blinks in disbelief. “Really?”

He offers a smile in response. “I think you regret the things you don’t do more than the things you do and fail at.”

“That… makes sense,” the first-year says slowly, and his mouth goes a little slack-jawed in understanding as he nods. “Thank you so much, Chris-senpai.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he says. “Is that all you need?”

Haruichi jumps up from his seat, and bows deeply. “Ah, right! Sorry! I’ve probably kept you too long. Thanks for listening and for the great advice! I’ll see you soon!” He scurries off, likely for extra practice, before Chris can say anything else.

It only occurs to Chris before he goes to bed that it’s the second time he’s given advice about the heart. While he’s not adverse to it, he hasn’t exactly been in a relationship himself, so he wings it, though it’s not necessarily a bad thing, considering that he has confidence and a pretty good head on his shoulders.

Besides, if Jun and Tetsu’s thanks after the fact are anything to go by, he’s succeeded in helping people right? That’s all he could want.

Most of the third years still prefer to eat dinner with the team as often as they can, so that’s where Chris is headed right now, with Ryousuke and Masuko in tow. They’re a little late, but the cooks always have food for them, so they’re in no rush.

None of them are prepared for Sawamura, who comes barreling around the corner yelling at the top of his lungs. When he sees Chris, he changes course with bright eyes, but ends up colliding with Masuko instead, who stumbles a bit. He grips Sawamura’s arms and rights the both of them.

“Sawamura-chan… Why are you running?”

Sawamura yells something unintelligible and tries to get away just as another figure, namely Kuramochi, appears in hot pursuit of him. Chris feels more than sees Ryousuke shift beside him.

“Get the hell back here, Sawamu--” He cuts himself off as he sees them, skidding to a stop much too close to Ryousuke, so that they’re nearly chest to chest.

Chris wonders briefly if that’s on purpose when neither of them move for a moment. Then, Ryousuke’s default smirk widens a little, and he pushes Kuramochi’s chest away, causing him to take a step back to balance himself. “My, my, I didn’t know you were that desperate.”

“I’m not! I was - Sawamura - he - Gah!” It’s quite telling from how fast his face colors that there’s something else going on there. Chris doesn’t have time to dwell on it before he rushes on. “Anyway! Sorry, senpais, I’ll just uh, remove Sawamura for you.”

“Chris-senpai, save me!” Sawamura pleads, twisting so he’s between Chris and Masuko. “He’s gonna strangle me!”

Ryousuke clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Really now, Youichi. There are much better ways to kill someone.”

“Onii-san!” Sawamura looks on the verge of panic.

Chris really doesn’t know what’s going on right now, but he does know that he should step in before someone gets hurt, most likely Sawamura. “Alright, let’s settle down. No one is going to strangle Sawamura, or do anything else to hurt him. Or anyone. Please.”

“Thank you, Chris-senpai!” Sawamura practically clings to his arm.

“You’re right, we kind of need this loudmouth,” says a new voice, and Miyuki walks around the corner, yet another enigma in a growing list. His eyes seem to linger on the contact between Chris and Sawamura for a moment before flicking up to Chris’s face. “Thanks for that, Chris-senpai. I’ll make sure he gets through dinner alive.”

If Chris doesn’t know that Miyuki respects him perhaps the most, he would think it’s almost a challenge.

Sawamura’s already in his face about not needing a babysitter, but Miyuki just laughs and herds him back to the dining room. Chris notes that his arm stays draped over Sawamura’s shoulders. He also notes that while Sawamura shouts abuse at him the whole way, he never once shoves it off.

He doesn’t know when he’s started inadvertently noticing these things, but there they are, plain as day now that it’s been brought to his attention. Everyone on the team seems to have a favorite of some sort, but they’re all baseball idiots and most in the awkward stages of teenage hormones and maybe need a little bit of help. Briefly, he wonders if they’re together, but it’s not exactly his business either.

While watching the two of them, he hadn’t noticed Kuramochi’s scowl in their direction, but looks his way at the sound of his voice.

“Oblivious as hell,” he mutters.

It’s Ryousuke who voices Chris’s thoughts out loud. “Look at the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Ryou-san!” Kuramochi splutters. “I don’t like anybody!”

“Pity.” That’s his knowing smirk, hiding something as usual. “I would have enjoyed teasing you about them.”

Chris frowns a little, because there’s some sort of tension there that he’s never seen between the two. If he got paid for dissipating things like this, he might be able to afford a small car.

“Let’s go to dinner, shall we?” He sends a pointed look toward Ryousuke, who shrugs and brushes past Kuramochi.

“Join us, Kuramochi-chan,” Masuko says, and Chris sends him a silent thank you.

The shortstop still looks a little flustered, but manages a nod, falling into step on the other side of Masuko. Chris allows the relative silence until they enter the noisy crowd of the dining hall and find their usual spot.

He can sense that dinner would be silent among them as well had Sawamura and Miyuki not joined them, and the table is soon filled with chatter and banter between the two of them and Kuramochi, occasionally joined by Masuko.

Miyuki and Ryousuke are rather alike, he thinks as he looks between them. Both of them skirt around the obvious, repress their own wants and desires in an almost masochistic fashion, replacing them with smirks and wiles. He might not be a mind-reader, but he’s gotten to know the both of them over the years, and he kind of wishes two other people at this table knew as much as he did. Perhaps he’ll pay their room a visit later.

It doesn’t come to mind again after dinner until he finally pushes his textbooks and computer aside. The more he thinks about it, the more he’s convinced that maybe some intervention is needed.

As he’d thought earlier, Sawamura and Kuramochi might be a good start.

So here he is, standing in front of their door, about to knock when he hears Sawamura’s loud protests coming from within. He’s never seen Kuramochi use his wrestling moves on Sawamura in person, but that’s clearly what’s going on, and maybe he should break that up, too.

But it stops after a moment and Kuramochi’s voice floats through the door.

“At least the tanuki bastard’s somewhat obvious about it.”

There’s a thump and grumbling that sounds like Sawamura. “Obvious how? I know he doesn’t like me!”

That’s where he’s wrong, so Chris finally snaps out of it and knocks, resigning himself to his matchmaking fate once again.

“Coming!” He hears the sound of running feet, and Sawamura throws open the door, gasping a little. “Chris-senpai! What brings you here? Come in!”

In his head, Chris wonders at Miyuki’s willpower, because really, even if he holds no feelings of attraction toward Sawamura himself, who can resist that grin of his? He smiles as he steps through the doorway out of reflex. Kuramochi blanches a little, but nods politely, even if there’s a moment of - is that guilt? - that crosses his face.

He exhales and gestures toward the empty desk chair. “May I sit? I was thinking I should probably talk to the both of you.”

It’s almost uncanny how a flash of fear manifests on both of their faces, but they both nod. “Uh, sure, Chris-senpai,” Kuramochi says, gesturing toward the chair. Sawamura even sits in a near-perfect seiza on the floor in front of him, while Kuramochi opts for the closest bed.

Chris decides to be blunt, since he knows that will reach Sawamura the best, and Kuramochi will appreciate it.

“I know it’s not exactly my place, but… It’s about Miyuki. And Ryousuke.” He looks at them each in turn. “If you want to stop me there, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Miyuki as in Miyuki Kazuya?” Sawamura practically gapes. “W-what about him?”

Kuramochi’s face flickers with uneasiness before he seems to come to some sort of resolve. “If this is about apologizing for almost running into Ryou-san earlier, I already did.” But his eyes say that he knows both he and Chris know that’s not it.

“Well… I should probably ask this first - do you both have feelings for them? Of course, if you don’t want to answer, I can’t do anything about that and I’m sorry for intruding.”

He fully expects Sawamura to splutter and deny everything, and insist that no, he doesn’t have any sort of anything toward Miyuki Kazuya, and never will. He also expects something similar but on a lower scale from Kuramochi.

But the both of them are silent, looking in opposite directions.

It’s Kuramochi who speaks up first. “I guess I was kinda obvious, especially today,” he says carefully, and crosses his arms with a sigh.

“He’s problematic, but he… yeah.” Sawamura stares determinedly at the ground, as if trying to bore a hole into the carpet.

Well.

It seems to Chris that they both know about each other’s feelings too, judging by how they don’t make fun of each other and the conversation he’d heard through the door before he’d come him. “It’s a problem for both of you, huh…”

“Tch.” Kuramochi clicks his tongue and lets his head loll back to look at the ceiling. “Problem is an understatement. Ryou-san is… well, Ryou-san. Even if he did like me, he’s not going to show it, but he’s also not afraid to string me along.”

Chris wonders if something had happened between them, and is about to ask, but Sawamura speaks up. “Miyuki-senpai’s the same,” he says, quiet for him. “But I just have no idea.”

“Ryousuke’s stringing you along?” he asks first. “Has he done anything specific or…”

“He kissed me,” Kuramochi blurts, then looks like he wants to take it back. “This morning,” he continues instead. “But he said it doesn’t mean anything, that he’s just testing the waters.” He looks up at Chris, and there’s the expectation of being judged there.

Chris is going to have words with Ryousuke later.

“You didn’t tell me that!” Sawamura says, glancing up in alarm. “Are you sure onii-san doesn’t like you if he did that?”

Kuramochi shrugs. “Who knows? I sure as hell don’t.”

He knows that struggle, all right. As much as Ryousuke is less of an enigma to their year, he always has his fair share of tricks and secrets up his sleeve. He thinks Ryousuke should know that Kuramochi deserves more than that, but apparently not.

It’s either that, or he’s scared of something.

“What about you, Sawamura?” he asks. Miyuki might be a little like Ryousuke, but he doubts the catcher would lead him on without interest of his own.

Sawamura shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know… I can’t tell!”

“He’s gone for you,” Kuramochi scoffs. “Trust me. You’ll walk into the room and he just zeroes in on you like a homing beacon.”

“No he doesn’t!”

Chris tries to think back to all the times he’s seen Miyuki and Sawamura interact, and he has to admit that as much as Miyuki is particular about giving fair and equal treatment to everyone he works with, Sawamura’s an odd one out.

“With Miyuki, it’s probably better to lay it all out on the table,” he says carefully. “Or if you’d like me to talk to him, I’d be happy to.”

“He listens to you, right Chris-senpai?” By now, Sawamura’s chewing on his lower lip. “So maybe? Please?”

Kuramochi lifts two fingers, drawing his attention. “If you’re doing that, could you also do me a solid and talk to Ryou-san too? I just want to know I’m not going in cold-turkey with no chance of success.”

Looking between them, Chris is actually a bit worried. It’s unsettling, almost, how subdued they both are, when they’re usually some of the most boisterous underclassmen he’s worked with. He doesn’t have the heart to refuse them, especially when they look at him like he might be their last hope.

“Alright,” he relents. “But I can’t guarantee that something will come out of it.”

“Chris-senpai, you’re the best!” Sawamura launches himself forward to place his hands on Chris’s knees, grinning up at him. Kuramochi nods his agreement from the bed.

“We owe you,” the shortstop says, sticking his leg out to kick Sawamura, who yelps and falls over to the side.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Chris says firmly, and slowly gets to his feet. “I’ll do my best, then. Hopefully I’ll see you later.”

The daunting pressure of the task looms over him as he makes his way back to his room.

Miyuki’s a better first bet, so he waits by his room after practice, pulling his coat more tightly around him to stave off the oncoming chill.

“Chris-senpai?”

It seems Miyuki notices him before he does the other, and he looks up. His glasses glint softly in fluorescent lights of the corridor.

“Hello, Miyuki,” he says, trying to stay nonchalant. “Do you have a moment?”

“Uh yeah, sure.” Miyuki opens the door to his room, stepping neatly around him to go inside in a silent invitation to follow. “Did you need something?”

Chris shuts the door gently behind him and sits in the desk chair, gesturing toward the bed. The younger slowly sits and crosses his legs.

“This is about Sawamura,” he says, not cutting corners, and carefully notes the the twitch of Miyuki’s eyebrows. “I want to be completely blunt with you, and I hope you’ll return the favor.”

Miyuki nods, equally slow, and regards him almost warily. It’s all firm lines in his face and jawline, as he’s restraining himself from something. “Okay,” is all he says, and Chris will have to take that for now.

“I talked to him earlier, and he…” He’s suddenly a little unsure, because even if he was asked to do this, and they’re in private, it feels a little meddlesome, and contrary to what some of his underclassmen might think, he really doesn’t have all the answers. “Well, to put it bluntly, he likes you. Maybe I’m reading the situation wrong, but I think you might like it if you two were something more as well.”

Whereas before Miyuki’s face gave it away, he’s cultivated it into a carefully neutral expression, forcibly relaxing himself. Chris tries to pick apart the thoughts behind those nearly square frames, but Miyuki’s poker face is almost as good as Ryousuke’s.

“Chris-senpai,” he says. “You asked me to be blunt, so here it is. Sawamura deserves better.”

Out of all the things Chris expects him to say, it’s not as surprising as he’d thought it would be.

“I think you should leave that up to him,” he says gently. “If he decides that you are what he wants, then he’ll most likely be stubborn about chasing and keeping you.”

He laughs, and Chris thinks there’s a touch of regret there. “He’ll learn, then. I’m not exactly… Well. He’ll learn.”

And it’s unfair of him to do that to himself and Sawamura, because Miyuki can if he tries, but he’s not allowing himself to. “Are you only worried about not being able to be what he wants? Because I think he already knows what he wants, and thinks you can provide that.”

He looks up, directly at Chris, deliberating for a moment, then another. “You really think I could keep him happy.” There’s the vague lilt at the end of his phrase that suggests a question.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself? Maybe you’ll find that Sawamura makes you want to try, just as with so many people.” While they’re being blunt, he adds, “If you wait too long…”

Miyuki squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then exhales, opening them slowly. Chris can’t pretend to read him in that moment, but Miyuki solves that problem for him.

“Alright. I will try.”

“You’re sure,” he says, feeling his chest loosen. “You know, you’re probably in the best position to make him happy anyway.” Not only does Sawamura like him, but he encompasses baseball and school and other things that Sawamura likes.

“Yeah…” The younger looks at his hands for a moment. “Yeah.” There’s some sort of resolve there, and Chris feels a little validated, and less like he was pushing him this entire time.

“That being said, as a sort of mentor to Sawamura, I have to warn you that if you do anything to hurt him, you’ll likely have all of my year after you. Including Ryousuke.”

Thankfully, that gets Miyuki to laugh, albeit somewhat nervously.

“I know.”

Chris feels marginally lighter as he makes his way to Ryousuke’s room. Miyuki had been a precursor to what he might face with the elder Kominato, and although his fellow third-year is a force to be reckoned with, he doubts that he has to worry too much about their coming conversation and what might result from it.

That’s before he gets to the corridor outside his room.

Ryousuke himself is leaning as casually as can be against the doorframe, pointedly crossing his arms as if to put distance between himself and Kuramochi. The younger seems agitated, and Chris can’t discern what he’s saying, but all traces of Ryousuke’s patented smirk are gone from his face, even though he appears calm.

He’s even closer before he knows it, just in time to catch Ryousuke saying, “It’s for the best, Youichi. I already know he’s catching up.”

Chris slows and stills. They haven’t noticed him yet, and he feels as though he’s intruding a little bit, but he’s never heard Ryousuke talk so plainly with someone. He’s also glad he decided to stop when Kuramochi grabs the front of Ryousuke’s shirt in both fists, clearly livid.

“Listen, Ryou-san,” he growls, nearly nose-to-nose with him at the moment. “If you think that way, you’ve already lost. I get that you feel threatened by him already, but you've got years of experience and skill on your shoulders. Shouldn't that, oh, I don't know, count for something? Shouldn't you continue to play because you want to?!? To hell with what everyone else thinks. You play your own baseball.”

He pauses, chest rising and falling. His next words break in the middle.

"And what about me, huh? I want to join you again, and remain your partner."

Ryousuke does nothing for a moment, lets their breathing mingle, move in tandem. Chris can palpably feel the silence, thick and oppressive with the weight of expectations and crushing disappointment. When he speaks, his voice is steely, calm. "Let go of me, Youichi."

Maybe it’s some innate reflex, but Kuramochi only grips his shirt tighter. “I can’t.” It sounds as though he’s scared to, like if he does let go, Ryousuke will slip through his fingers like smoke or sand.

The elder slowly pries Kuramochi’s hands off of him as he turns to walk away, but the shortstop is persistent, turning him around and grabbing his wrist. Ryousuke’s reflexes kick in and the reaction is immediate. He grabs the outside of his wrist and pushes down on his arm to force him to his knees, then grabs his hand and uses the momentum to twist him to the ground.

Chris mobilizes himself then. “Ryousuke,” he calls, hurrying over. “Please let go of him.”

Ryousuke turns his face toward him, making some sort of assessment, and surprisingly complies. He makes no move to help Kuramochi up, but that doesn’t deter the younger, as he’s already scrambling up, shaking out his arm. Quickly, Kuramochi gives Chris a look in passing that seems to ask for strength before blurting, “Can’t you see how much I like you, Ryou-san?”

That gives the elder Kominato pause, quite literally as his entire body stills.

Chris isn’t completely sure that he should be there in the moment, but he has to support his underclassman in his endeavors, especially after that panicked look. Still, he waits a minute for Ryousuke to say something.

He doesn’t for a long moment.

Chris is about to step in, and he can see Kuramochi opening his mouth when he finally speaks. “I’m graduating. I’m quitting baseball. You’re not supposed to want to return anything.”

There’s a surprising amount of anger simmering in Chris’s chest. It’s the same story as with Miyuki, then - essentially being a masochist. “Ryousuke, think about it. You’re good at separating facts and frames, so use it now.”

“So you really don’t… That wasn’t real, then?” Kuramochi’s voice is strained, and his heart goes out to him.

That’s what finally causes Ryousuke to snap. He whirls, balling his own fists in Kuramochi’s shirt as if returning the favor, eyes bright and blazing. “You idiot. I thought you could read me, of all people. Just for fun? Read between the lines, Youichi. None of this has been for fun.”

He actually doesn’t know what either of them are referring to now, but Kuramochi seems to get it, eyes wide. Then, slowly, inexplicably, he grins. It’s rather incredulous, but it’s there, and he huffs out a laugh as well.

“Ryou-san, if all that was… Can I kiss you?”

Ryousuke’s fists are looser now, and he studies Kuramochi’s face, brings his own a little closer. Chris is a little uncomfortable, to be honest, but he doesn’t think to look away.

“No.”

Ryousuke lets him go, and he stumbles, apparently having let the other support some of his weight. “What - Ryou-san?”

“You have to earn it first, after making me wait. And we’re not going to feed Chris’s apparent voyeur kink.”

“My - Ryousuke!” Chris splutters as Kuramochi doubles over in laughter. Looking at Kuramochi, though, he doesn’t mind so much, because even though his laughter is a little too loud and long, it’s from relief. The source of the slow flush in his cheeks is unmistakable.

“Love you too, Chris,” Ryousuke smirks, and unashamedly reaches one arm around Kuramochi’s waist, inserting his hand into the pocket on his opposite side. “Not quite as much as Youichi, though.”

The younger’s blush is quite impressive, he must say. But still, Kuramochi manages to send Chris an extremely grateful look. “Thank you, Chris-senpai…”

“I didn’t do much, really,” Chris says, smiling a little at him.

“Nonsense, he doesn’t deserve the credit,” Ryousuke smirks. “Don’t baby him, Chris.”

Kuramochi starts to argue, but Chris beats him to it, putting up his hands in protest. “I really didn’t do much. But you should have seen him when I went to talk about all this with him and Sawamura…”

Groaning, the younger buries his face in his hands. “Are all my senpais just out to get me?”

“Only I’m allowed to,” Ryousuke says cheerily. “Speaking of which, we have unfinished business, Youichi.”

Kuramochi yelps as he’s picked up bodily and thrown over Ryousuke’s shoulder and awkwardly waves at Chris as they move down the hall to who knows where.

The breeze blows through the window, caressing his face and calling him outside along with the afternoon sunlight streaming in.

Chris finds himself constantly turning to the window, always feeling like something’s missing. The thing is, he knows what it is.

“You’re doing it again,” says a soft but chiding voice, and he turns his attention back to Tanba, who’s sitting next to him at the low table.

“I am.” He sighs and looks forlornly at his work. What’s the point of it all, really, if he can’t also be involved in something he loves? “But we could just… stop in for a moment.”

Tanba looks uncertainly at Masuko across the table. “Do you want to, Toru?”

Masuko grunts a little, putting down his pen and looking between Chris and Tanba hopefully. “Sawamura-chan is probably improving fast.”

That does it for Tanba, and he shrugs. “Might as well, then.”

It doesn’t take long for them to all pack up their things and head out to the field, shouts and the sound of the ball hitting various things guiding them. Chris shoves his hands into his coat pockets, breathing in the sounds and the promise of baseball. He wishes he was in uniform himself, heading over to play with them instead of just be an observer, but his shoulder isn’t healed yet, among other things.

He’s so lost in thought that he nearly bumps into Tanba as they near the fence and the entrance to the dugout. “Sorry, sorry. You alright?”

Tanba doesn’t reply, and he lifts his head to look in the same direction as he is.

In the center of the field, there’s Sawamura, standing on the mound in front of Miyuki, with his hands on his hips and his voice clearly audible from where the three of them are. Chris hadn’t been listening to the first part of his speech, but he’s in time to catch what’s probably the most important part.

“...And so, Miyuki Kazuya, you don’t have anything to apologize for! I never wanna hear an apology outta you ever again, you hear? I mean about things like this!”

He goes on in a seemingly angry tirade well within earshot of the entire team while Miyuki stands there, dumbfounded and speechless for once in his life - something about having waited for the catcher to suck it up and tell him already for the longest time, and how Harucchi noticed anyway so it was obvious after that, and his cheeks are slowly growing redder even if his voice is steady in volume.

Chris can’t help it - he’s grinning. Next to him, Masuko wipes his eyes hurriedly. “Is this… what I think it is? Is Sawamura-chan finally showing him what true guts are?”

“Good god,” Tanba says, and that’s about as much answer as Masuko gets, and more than enough.

Sawamura still hasn’t stopped, either. “I told you this before, and I’ll tell you again, Miyuki Kazuya! None of your nasty little bastard remarks or habits are gonna make me back down, okay? I like you means I like you, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of about that! So here!”

Chris is expecting it when Sawamura yanks Miyuki’s chin down into a kiss, and he misses his mouth, but it’s there for everyone to see, a kiss right in the center of the field, with everyone’s cheers suddenly deafening in his ears.

Everyone’s rushing toward them now, hearty slaps on the back and kicks to the butt from certain upperclassmen greeting the couple on the mound, of which both are blushing and Sawamura is grinning. Chris himself hurries toward them, heart full and happy to see them so clearly looking out for each other and Sawamura especially so happy after that other day in his room.

“Chris-senpai!” Speaking of Sawamura, he’s waving both arms at him now. “Ace-sama, Masuko-senpai! I didn’t know you were here!”

“Ace-sama?” Tanba murmurs, and Chris simply chuckles before reaching out to ruffle Sawamura’s hair.

“I take it you both are together now?” he asks with a gentle smile.

Miyuki turns from where he’s being verbally abused by Kuramochi to grin a bit sheepishly at him. “I, er, took your advice…” His smile softens a little when he glances at Sawamura, whose dying blush becomes even more prominent than before.

“I’m happy for you both,” he says sincerely.

“You have to treat Sawamura-chan right,” Masuko says gravely. “Or I’m afraid I’ll have to use Ryousuke on you.”

“What about me?” Ryousuke’s voice, even in his light lilting tone, carries over the whoops of many others from beside Chris, who jumps.

“Onii-san! When did you get here?” Sawamura launches himself at Ryousuke, who actually lets him cling to his neck a moment before gently pushing him off.

“You’ll never know,” he says mysteriously. “If we’re passing out kisses, though, I’m here for a particular shortstop.”

With that, he easily catches Kuramochi by the shoulders and tugs him down into a kiss, drawing more cheers from the team and a “Get it, Kuramochi!” from some of them, coupled with whistles and hoots.

“What?!” Sawamura nearly screeches. “Kuramochi-senpai and Onii-san?!”

“You haven’t seen them ogling each other constantly?” Miyuki laughs.

He frowns and looks between Miyuki and Chris. “Well, now that you mention it, there was this one time in the baths when--”

“And I think that’s quite enough,” Miyuki says cheerily, hooking an arm around his shoulders. “There’s still practice to do.”

The cheers are dying out now as the coach himself comes over to see what all the commotion is all about.

“Well,” Kataoka says, looking around at all the grinning faces. “None of you are going to be able to focus in conditions like this, are you.” It’s more of a statement than a question. “Practice for the rest of the day is not mandatory.”

There’s protests from a few, but Chris is surprised to see that even Sawamura, who would normally be enthusiastic about more baseball, links an arm with Miyuki and gives the brightest grin yet. He can see Ryousuke linking his arms around Kuramochi’s neck, and in the distance Haruichi and Furuya linking pinkies by the far fence as well as Isashiki with his elbow on Yuuki’s shoulder near the dugout.

“You really enjoy being matchmaker for all your little ducklings, huh?” Tanba gives him a wry smile.

His heart is full, and he can’t disagree.

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