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The smell of spring

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After nearly an hour of searching and listening to the rants of the teammates that he encountered along the way, Abe finally found Haruna somewhere on the edge of the school’s property, lying underneath a tree with the latest issue of Shounen Jump open on his face and his limbs akimbo. They were out where the wind was the nicest, where every whiff sent tree leaves and wish seeds flying all over the place.

Senpai, we’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Tch, what’s the rush? They don’t need us around all the time.”

It was hard to stay angry at Haruna for some reason; whether it was the scenery or the fact that his pitcher was right, Abe couldn’t say for sure. Whatever it was, he was obligated to drag his teammate back on pain of death (or at least some horrendous and no doubt annoying punishment from their coach).


Haruna cut him off by sealing his lips with a kiss. Abe found himself pulled into the older boy’s lap in the next minute, with any hope of escape cut off by possessive arms and a chin nestled quite neatly on top of his head.

“We can go later,” the pitcher declared. “It’s going to be more of the same today anyway.”


“U-um. Abe?”

Abe lifted the baseball magazine away from his face and found Mihashi kneeling down on the grass beside him with the sort of look that roughly translated into “I’ve actually been here for more than ten minutes but I was too shy/embarrassed/stupid to speak up sooner”. He was becoming increasingly familiar with Mihashi-isms these days.

“What is it?”

“N-nothing! Were you asleep?”

“Not really.”

Nishiura’s catcher made a neutral noise as he sat up; he felt his blood pressure spike just a bit when he noted how Mihashi backed up even more than necessary to give him space, but it wasn’t enough for him to go postal. He made a mental note to congratulate himself for his patience later.

“M-maybe we should go back already, A-Abe-kun…”

“I like it here.”


“Unless you want to go back?”

Mihashi vehemently shook his head. Abe propped himself up against the back of the tree and looked up, at the patches of sky and clouds caught between the branches. He pretended not to notice when Mihashi inched over, after ten full minutes, to join him. The kiss wasn’t needed; holding hands was enough.