Chapter Text
Eijun had thought a lot about when this day would come, especially as he got older and could start to feel the strain on his joints and ligaments that wasn’t there before. For professional athletes, even when in tip-top physical condition, one can only play for so long before nature takes its course. The average retirement age was around 30 anyway and Eijun had made it to 31, not that that made it any easier.
He always thought his retirement from baseball would be different. He was prepared to keep playing until they had to pull him kicking and screaming off the mound. He knew that his play would begin to decline one day but so long as some team out there wanted him, he’d continue to play to his heart’s content.
Eijun’s descent from being one of the best pitchers in the NPB to being forced to retire early wasn’t anything anyone could joke about. It had started with innocuous things like headaches that became more frequent and then pain in his back that had him sitting out of games. Time spent practicing turned into time spent in doctors’ offices, running tests, and calling his parents with tears streaming down his face.
In the end, it didn’t matter how well Eijun took care of his physical health and well-being when his problem was genetic. A type of kidney disease, his doctor had eventually told him after bloodwork and various imaging tests confirmed he had the same thing his late grandmother did. Eijun could only sit there paralyzed, half listening as the doctor explained what was happening to him in terms he didn’t understand.
He wasn’t forced to retire the next day but it became apparent over time that baseball could no longer be his top priority. As his condition progressed, he needed to spend more time focusing on pain management, taking his medication, and adjusting his diet. One day he was fine, a perfectly healthy young man with the world ahead of him and the next he was struggling to control his blood pressure while his kidneys began to fail him.
Most of the players he knew that retired tried to remain within the world of baseball, by either coaching or involving themselves in the business side of the league. Some of them had college degrees to fall back on or even used their salaries to go back to school. Others turned their focus on other pursuits like starting families or living more leisurely after spending so much time beating up their bodies in the name of baseball.
Eijun’s retirement started out with him going on dialysis. He moved back home with his parents and grandfather to be closer to people he needed support from and take care of him. It was like watching another one of his dreams be flushed away. He always thought he’d be the one taking care of his family as they got older and instead he was still relying on them for everything.
It was tough at first, of course it was. He was scared and anxious every day as he was forced to accept a new normal. His team of healthcare providers would tell him that it was all manageable once he got used to it, sugarcoating their words when all Eijun wanted to do was cry and scream and curse at the universe for not letting him have this one thing he worked so hard for. He knew logically that there was nothing he could have done to prevent this but regret was still something that constantly tugged on him. The ‘what ifs’ and ‘could have beens’ were often easier to face than the headstone of his future.
Most days, the pain in his bones and muscles was something he could handle but it took a lot out of him. Combined with his exhaustive treatments, it meant he spent those days low on energy and cooped up in his house. He’s told that staying active is great for his condition and should be easy considering who he is, but even doing that becomes hard when it’s like there’s a heavy weight anchoring him to his bed.
The worst part by far has to be the toll it takes on him mentally. There were still so many people supporting him, from his family, friends, teammates, and even fans that Eijun felt like he couldn’t break down. He had to keep smiling and laughing and shouting to let everyone know that he was fine even when he wasn’t. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to process his own retirement when his own mortality was shoved into his face.
The Legend of Sawamura Eijun was supposed to be one for the ages but instead of ending with a bang, it ends with a whimper.
*****
Time still passes by whether Eijun likes it or not. Even if the world didn’t end, even if an entire year ticks by, he still feels stuck. It’s like he never left the doctor’s office, sitting in a vinyl-padded chair while his diagnosis is revealed. Everyone else moves on. A new baseball season starts. His friends get married, break up, or have kids. The neighbors’ kids go to school every day and his family works on their farm.
He does learn to manage how to survive on dialysis and even opts for home treatments later on where he can sit in the comfort of his own couch. He was never good at remaining still but four hours of sitting three times a week has become something he’s learned to deal with. Most of the time he’ll read or play videogames and if he’s lucky enough, he’ll fall asleep and nap the entire time. Lately, he’s been finding himself turning on the television to a certain sports channel to help pass the time.
He thought watching baseball would be too difficult after everything and it was, at first, but surprisingly, it's become one of the things that keeps him grounded. It helps that some of his best friends and supporters are on the teams he watches and seeing their faces, and any embarrassing errors they make that he can hold over their heads, is worth it.
Now that the playoffs are underway, Eijun knows that as teams are eliminated and more of them enter their off-season, he’ll be getting more visitors. That’s why when the umpire calls the last out, sealing the Giants’ loss and the end of their playoff run, Eijun can’t help but feel a little happy. It’s an entirely too selfish thought, he knows it and catches himself before it has time to ruminate in his brain, but he’s never been able to stop himself from being greedy about this one thing. This one person.
Barely a week later, Kazuya is standing on his front porch with a stupidly soft smile on his face, his eyes lighting up when he realizes it’s Eijun who’s opened the door for him. He’s got a duffel bag in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other that he immediately offers for Eijun to take.
Eijun takes them with a fond huff, remembering the very first time Kazuya had shown up at his doorstep like this.
After Eijun first received his diagnosis, he was still living in Nagoya with no plans yet to retire as his condition hadn’t yet declined enough to the point where that was necessary. He’d been slowly telling people, those closest to him that he wanted to know as he was still trying to figure things out himself.
What he hadn’t expected was Miyuki Kazuya showing up outside his apartment, coming all the way from Tokyo in the middle of the season, just to see him in person. He could only chalk it up to Miyuki's insistence on taking care of his pitcher’s condition, even though he hadn’t been Miyuki’s pitcher in more than a decade.
Eijun didn’t know what he was expecting when he opened the door for him but by the haggard look on his face, Miyuki must’ve thought he was already on his deathbed. He had a bundle of flowers cradled in one of his arms and he couldn’t even say anything for the first few seconds, frozen in place and openly staring at Eijun.
The sight was so un-Miyuki-like that Eijun had to suppress a laugh. “Flowers?” he teased and nodded toward the admittedly beautiful bouquet of different types of yellow, white, and purple flowers.
“What’s wrong with flowers?” Miyuki immediately became defensive but Eijun could see the pink building up on his cheeks. “I like flowers.”
Eijun took the offered bouquet and stepped aside to lead Miyuki inside. “You do?” He was doubtful of that, Miyuki didn’t strike him as the type.
“Yeah, why not? They’re pretty.” Miyuki slipped his shoes off and they walk into the kitchen. “They remind me of you,” he added as an afterthought.
Eijun’s mouth snapped shut, cutting off any response he was ready to give. A blush spread over his cheeks at the implications of those words and he fumbled with the pitcher he grabbed to use as a makeshift vase.
As he prepped the flowers to put in the plastic pitcher, he couldn't help but laugh at the image of Miyuki’s awkward self in a flower shop. It made him want to tease him. “Do you even know what these mean in flower language?” Eijun asked, looking up at Miyuki with wide eyes.
Miyuki’s face fell as he considered it. He almost went pale trying to figure out what secret message he accidentally told Eijun. “No? Why?”
Eijun laughed. His first genuine laugh in a month. He knew that there was a language of flowers, but his knowledge didn’t extend past the basic meaning behind red roses. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You little…" Miyuki grumbled under his breath, holding back whatever insult he wants to tease Eijun with. "How about this? The yellow ones mean you’re a brat and the white ones mean no.”
“No?”
“Yup. No, as is the answer I’m gonna give you when you ask me to catch for you.”
“Wait, Miyuki-senpai, that’s not fair!”
It became sort of a tradition after that, where Kazuya would always visit him with a bundle of flowers in his hand. He’d give Eijun some cleverly contrived meaning behind them whenever Eijun would cheekily ask. Over time, they began to build their own flower language, one full of inside jokes and soft laughter.
Unlike Kazuya’s first appearance on his doorstep, however, he stands before him now with a casual confidence, no longer on guard.
The same as Kazuya’s first appearance like this, Eijun’s heart skips a beat or two.
“What do these mean?” Eijun asks in lieu of a greeting, taking the flowers as he steps aside and lets him in.
Kazuya hums in thought. “They mean keep your mouth shut about my last at-bat.”
Eijun laughs. “You have to at least take a swing! It's as good as over if you just stand there watching!” Of course, it wasn’t solely Kazuya’s fault they lost, but Eijun will never let it slide when he gets struck out looking.
“You're my biggest critic, you know that?” Kazuya chuckles and shakes his head as he makes his way inside. He brushes past Eijun but not without reaching out to squeeze his shoulder and lean in to press his lips against his temple. It’s quick and easy and it makes Eijun feel warm like a cat lazily basking in the sun.
“Someone has to keep your big head from getting any bigger,” Eijun teases, his face all smiles as an exuberant joy swells within him. Kazuya’s only been here for a few minutes and Eijun already feels like he’s ready to run a marathon. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
Kazuya heads for the stairs, only looking back to raise a brow at Eijun. “I told your mom. She didn’t tell you?” They make their way into one of the spare bedrooms that might as well be Kazuya’s room now with how often he ends up staying over. The futon is clean and folded nicely in the corner where it will most likely remain untouched for the entirety of Kazuya’s stay. “Where is everyone, by the way? It’s way too quiet.”
“Mom, Dad, and Gramps are over at our neighbor’s place,” Eijun answers quickly but shakes his head, thinking about what Miyuki first said. “But what do you mean you told my Mom? Why didn’t you just text me?”
Kazuya only stays in the room long enough to toss his bag on the floor and then heads back downstairs, taking the flowers from Eijun’s hold as he goes. “Because the last time I texted you, you gave me an attitude.”
“Attitude? About what?!” Eijun sputters, still trailing after him. Considering they’d last talked to each other yesterday, Eijun can quickly work out what he's referring to. ”Wait, is this about the birthday cake?”
“Yes.”
Eijun rolls his eyes. Kazuya can be so petty sometimes. His birthday is coming up soon so Eijun had texted him to ask about what he wanted to do. Kazuya was adamant that he didn’t want a birthday cake this year because never ends up liking them so Eijun did what any reasonable person would do. He called him a soulless old man and uninvited him from his own celebration. Who the hell doesn’t want cake on their birthday?
“Get over yourself.” Eijun musters up all the love and care he feels towards Kazuya and throws it into those words.
He watches as Kazuya expertly moves around the kitchen, trimming the stems off the flowers before placing them in a vase Eijun didn’t know they owned with some water. A part of him is in awe at how Kazuya so seamlessly became comfortable like this in his childhood home. Another part of him knows that this is how things were always meant to be. That it’s probably more apt to say this is just Kazuya coming home.
The front room of the Sawamura house used to just be a quiet sitting area but once Eijun started home treatments, it was turned into his own personal patient care room. His hemodialysis machine sits next to a big comfy couch with a TV sitting across from it. The far wall is now like a giant bookcase with shelves full of all the gifts and well wishes Eijun gets sent every now and then from fans, fellow players, and his old team. It’s there that Kazuya looks for a spot to place the vase.
“So, how are you feeling today?” Kazuya asks, turning on his heel to face Eijun once he’s satisfied with the vase’s placement.
Eijun already likes where this is heading. “Really good.”
“Good enough to show me your Numbers?” A slow, impish smile spreads over Kazuya’s face.
Eijun gives him a matching one. “I thought you’d never ask!”
*****
“How long can you stay, dear?” his mom asks Kazuya once they’re all sitting around the dinner table. It’s the million-dollar question that has even Gramps quieting down, the only sounds being that of dishes clinking as they pass around food and the television reading out a weather report on low in the background. In truth, Eijun is waiting to hear the answer too.
“As long as I’m welcomed,” is Kazuya’s polite yet vague answer. He shifts next to Eijun, their knees knocking against each other but neither mind.
The low rectangular table Eijun ate meals at with his family his entire childhood was always just big enough for the four of them. He sat across from his mom while his grandfather sat on his left and his father on his right. With Kazuya joining them as often as he could, he’s been given his own spot on Eijun’s right where their dominant arms won’t hit each other as they eat. It’s a snug fit but Eijun secretly likes it. Kazuya being close at hand keeps his heart at ease.
“Then might as well stay forever,” Gramps hollers with a laugh, echoing Eijun’s thoughts.
It’s not a secret that his family adores Kazuya. In fact, they might love him more than they do Eijun, he begrudgingly thinks to himself, not that he can blame them. He’s more than familiar with Kazuya’s cheeky attitude and irritating personality but he also knows by now how reliable and caring he is. His family has seen his strong sense of responsibility in action enough times that the term son-in-law has been thrown around quite a lot considering he and Kazuya aren’t in that type of relationship to even warrant the thought.
“I do plan on spending some time with my father,” Kazuya adds much to his family’s approval and really now, one would think Eijun was neglecting his flesh and blood that he currently lives with and sees everyday by how filial and noble they seem to think Kazuya is. “I’ll probably go back for Christmas or New Year's.”
“You should invite him here for the holidays,” Dad chimes in, Mom and Gramps nodding along. It’s not the first time they’ve extended an invitation to Kazuya’s father even though he’s not sure they’ve ever met each other but he can see their eyes glow at the prospect of merging their two families.
“There’s plenty of room and he’d be more than welcome,” Mom piles on.
Kazuya laughs, something warm and gentle and not at all forced. “I always tell him that but he’s so reserved.”
Before Eijun retired, he’d spend most of his offseasons in Tokyo to train with Kazuya which in turn led him to sitting at the Miyuki family table as often as Kazuya now finds himself at the Sawamuras’. Toku-san is more than taken care of by his son but if Eijun’s learned anything about the man it’s that he likes keeping his head down and focusing on the business he runs. To Kazuya’s relief, he’s able to spend more time behind a desk and less operating heavy machinery which has helped in lessening his workaholic tendencies.
“The fresh air out here would do him some good!” Eijun adds with a determined huff. Thinking more about it now, having Toku-san here would be quite nice. Then at least one person would be on his side whenever Kazuya inevitably starts teasing him.
“You should be the one to ask him then,” Kazuya says to him with a shrug. “He’ll say yes to you. He never listens to me…,” he picks up his glass of tea to take a pointed sip and side eyes Eijun, “like someone else I know.”
Eijun turns to face Kazuya fully. “That’s because all you do is nag him!”
“So noisy,” Kazuya mumbles as he puts his glass back on the table. Eijun can see the way the corner of his mouth ticks up ever so slightly to mock him. It’s these little things that his family conveniently seems to miss but not Eijun. Oh no, he’d never miss one of Kazuya’s little gestures that were specifically designed to make his blood boil.
But Eijun’s nothing if not a fast learner and over the years he's learned plenty of ways to get under Kazuya’s skin. “What a mean wife you are,” he jabs back with a smirk of his own forming. He doesn’t know what it is about being called his wife that annoys Kazuya so much, but it’s gotten on his nerves ever since the first time Eijun made that joke about their battery when they were still in high school.
Kazuya freezes and then faces Eijun with a mischievous glint catching on the reflection of his glasses. He leans down to diminish the already nonexistent space between them. “Do you think your condition will stop me from kicking your ass?”
Eijun barks out a laugh, his eyes adopting a shine that they only ever do when he’s bickering with Kazuya. He meets his stare head-on and leans in too, not one to ever back off. “I’d love to see you try, old man.”
Kazuya lets out an irritated hum and Eijun holds back more of his laughter. If his genetics are anything to go by then Kazuya’s not in any danger of losing his hair but Eijun takes much glee in pointing out whenever he finds a gray hair while drying Kazuya's hair for him. Kazuya says Eijun is to blame for any signs of his aging but Eijun only finds it cute how sensitive he gets over. If anything, the thought of one day seeing Kazuya with salt and pepper hair only makes a flush creep across his cheeks.
“I’m only six months older than you,” Kazuya reasons with a raised brow.
Eijun’s smile only widens as he innocently asks, “What was the Heian period like?”
“Boys,” his mother interrupts them with a fond but still exasperated shake of her head, “no fighting at the dinner table, please.”
*****
Eijun stirs from his sleep, something pulling him back into consciousness after he let himself pass out earlier. To his right, his dialysis machine faintly buzzes as it does its job while connected to his right arm. He keeps his eyes shut and stretches out his legs in front of him with a silent yawn. There’s a blanket over his lap that wasn’t there before and once his sleepiness begins to lift, making him more alert, he can hear two voices from the kitchen.
“… Eijirou was almost immediately ruled out because of genetics,” he hears his mom say in that soft voice of hers. “The evaluation process is thorough so Eitoku-san and I were also eventually ruled out due to results from the medical tests.”
“I figured it was hard but I thought family would be the best bet.” Kazuya’s voice is easy to identify. It’s not like they get a ton of guests out here, especially surprise ones that they wouldn’t be expecting ahead of time. “I don’t understand the science behind it all,” Kazuya admits and there’s a tightness to his voice.
“It usually is,” Mom agrees with him. “They say that twins have the best match too.” Oh. It isn’t difficult to figure out what they’re talking about. “But Eijun’s been on the transplant list since the moment he was allowed to be added.”
At this point, he’d already reached Stage 5 of his kidney disease a year ago. The only reason he’s still alive is because of the miracle of modern technology, otherwise known as his dialysis machine that filters waste from his blood because both of his kidneys have completely failed. His surviving this long is entirely due to his treatments because it’s either that or getting a transplant. He had complicated thoughts about finding a living donor after his immediate family all got tested. The only other option was a deceased donor but he wasn’t holding his breath for something that wasn’t likely to happen. At least for him.
“So it’s just a waiting game at this point?” They’re both speaking in low voices, probably trying to avoid waking Eijun up even if it ended up being futile.
If Eijun didn’t know any better he’d say Kazuya sounds frustrated and he doesn’t like that. All Kazuya seems to do these days is fret over him, even when there’s no reason to. He can imagine the pinched look he’s probably wearing and if he could, he’d get up, if only to be the one to smooth it away.
“It’s either waiting or finding a living donor, which is also hard with his blood type.”
Wasn’t that Eijun’s luck? Type O blood meant he was a great donor for other people. Receiving donations… not so much.
“I’m guessing he doesn’t want to bother anyone either. Probably why this is the first I’m hearing of it.”
Eijun definitely picks up on Kazuya’s irritation there. He purses his lips and slowly opens his eyes, the only light in the room coming from the windows with their curtains pulled all the way back. It’s true that he hasn’t talked about this with Kazuya at all, he actively avoided the topic, actually. There was only so much Kazuya could do for him, that he’d let Kazuya do for him. He’s already burdened him more than ever wanted to so he can’t bear to inconvenience him anymore.
“The doctors say an early transplant is best, that the less time he’s on dialysis, the better it’ll be for his long-term health. That and a kidney transplant in general will help him live longer.”
It’s true. He knows it even without all the doctors’ numbers and statistics running through his head about how transplants led to longer, more active lives. He’s experiencing firsthand how much dialysis is taking out of him. He knows he doesn’t have a choice but to be on it but still… he never would have wished this for himself or anyone else for that matter.
When Kazuya remains silent, his mom continues. “There’s no need to look like that.”
“Sorry, Misaki. I don’t mean to make things harder.”
Eijun reminds himself to punch Kazuya later because how the hell has he made anything harder for anyone? If anything, Eijun would credit him as the reason they’re all still here right now.
“Oh, shush,” Mom says as much, her tone somewhat reprimanding. “You could never. We’re all grateful for everything you’ve done for him. Who knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here.”
“I just wish he’d let me do more for him.”
Eijun doesn't like the sound of that, how Kazuya’s voice is tinged with sadness. There’s no reason for him to sound so gloomy. Eijun is still here, he’s still breathing, and he's not going anywhere anytime soon. He’d sooner fight fate itself than lose what he has now, what he’s had all along.
What bothers Eijun even more is that he didn't know Kazuya was feeling this way. Or why.
“What else is there left to do?” Mom laughs. Then she hums, something low and full of mischief like how she would when she used to catch Eijun drawing on the walls with markers when he was a toddler. “Oh, well I know that look.”
It hits Eijun then that he's just been lying there, listening in on their conversation. They’d never talk about him negatively behind his back but that doesn't mean he has permission to eavesdrop. He decides that’s the time to cut in and let them know he’s awake.
“Kazuya,” he croaks out, voice raspy and laced with fatigue.
There’s a few seconds of silence and then the pattering of socked feet until Kazuya comes into view. “You’re awake?”
Eijun doesn’t answer and just pats the open spot next to him on the couch. Kazuya complies for once, dropping down next to him without another word. He leaves no room between them, the entire length of his body is pressed against Eijun’s left side and it's comfortable and cozy and right.
“Were you talking about me?” he asks. No point in pretending he hadn't heard anything.
Kazuya doesn't seem to mind either way. “Oh? Eavesdropping were you?”
“Your loud mouth woke me up.” His limbs feel heavy but he adjusts the blanket so that it lays over both their laps. He feels so warm with Kazuya. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see his mom watching them and the knowing look on her face makes him warm but for a whole different reason.
“My loud mouth?” Kazuya gapes, clearly taking offense but he keeps his tone soft, recognizing that Eijun doesn't have his usual energy today. “You are the last person who ever gets to say that.”
Eijun giggles softly and takes the TV remote that he was keeping by his thigh and passes it to Kazuya. “Let’s watch a movie.”
He takes it easily but not without a huff at the way Eijun changes the subject. “Are you going to fall asleep again? Because if you are, I’m picking the movie.”
“No, no.” He wiggles in his spot, managing to somehow get even closer to Kazuya until he’s all but on his lap. “I’m awake now but pick whatever you want.”
“Wow,” Kazuya says blandly, “the movie tyrant is bowing down to me for once. What’s the occasion?”
Eijun lets his head fall back to rest on the back of the sofa, his cheek half resting on Kazuya’s shoulder. He peers up at him through his lashes, eyelids heavy even though his brain is fully awake. “Kazuya?”
“Yeah?” Kazuya cranes his neck away to meet Eijun’s eyes, looking down the bridge of his nose at him.
Eijun gets lost for a few seconds, losing track of what he initially wanted to say as he just looks at Kazuya. He traces the shape of his jawline with his eyes, taking notice of the stubble he now grows and will rub against Eijun’s cheeks to make him yelp. The hair he once kept shaggier in high school is now neater and more styled, the back is kept shorter and he's adopted a slight side part to show off more of his forehead.
It’s not a secret that Eijun finds him gorgeous, he always has, even when his charms were more boyish and drove him up a wall. Now his heart flutters as a small smile graces Kazuya’s lips and his eyes shine with a tenderness that’s reserved only for him. Eijun never bothered to worry about his own attractiveness. He always feels beautiful, not because of any physical traits of his but because of the way Kazuya looks at him in moments like these.
Kazuya doesn’t make a sound, just patiently waits for Eijun to come back to himself and remember why he spoke in the first place. Eijun eventually clears his throat and, hesitant to break the lull that’s fallen over them, says, “I need 30% today.”
There’s no judgment in Kazuya’s eyes at the admission. No sadness or pity, just understanding. He switches the remote to his other hand and then takes Eijun’s left hand, pressing their palms together and intertwining their fingers. Eijun lets Kazuya raise their hands to his mouth, where he kisses the back of Eijun’s hand. “You can have the full 100%.”
“No, keep your 70%. You still have to work out later. I can’t have you getting lazy.”
“Lazy?” Kazuya snorts. “As if babysitting you isn’t already a full-time job on top of baseball.”
“Is that a complaint I hear?” Eijun says haughtily and turns his nose up at Kazuya with a joking smile.
“Of course not, honey,” Kazuya grumbles with every ounce of fake exasperation he can muster. He rolls his eyes until they land back on Eijun’s face and he flashes him a toothy grin. “In sickness and in health and all that.”
Eijun leans his head back so he can get a full look at Kazuya’s handsome face. He lets out a huff, hoping that it sounds nonchalant to not give away how much he’s affected by Kazuya’s words. “We’re not married.”
Kazuya only raises a judgemental brow at him. “Even though you’re the one always calling me your wife.” There’s a bite to his words that Eijun knows isn’t genuine.
Eijun lets his head fall on Kazuya’s shoulder and then turns to look at the television as Kazuya scrolls through the different movie options. “You’re not a very good one,” he grumbles.
“Shhh,” Kazuya hushes, lowering his voice as he presses play on some movie that he already knows he won’t be able to pay attention to. “Just watch the movie. We’ll hold a review session about my performance later.”
He feels too cozy to argue so he doesn’t, letting himself sink against Kazuya until all of his weight is being held up by him. If it wasn’t for the restraint on his right arm, he’d be all over Kazuya by now but he can settle for this. At least for now.
The movie plays but it might as well be background noise for Eijun when his thoughts are completely occupied by the man next to him. Kazuya is a safe and solid presence keeping him grounded during times like this, when Eijun feels like he’s going to float away. His instinct is to cling to Kazuya, to bury his face in his shirt and breathe in his cologne if only to keep him from ever leaving. He knows he could do that but he also knows he doesn’t need to. Kazuya isn’t going anywhere.
Their linked hands rest on Eijun’s thigh and he stares down at them. Kazuya still has remnants of nail polish around his cuticles that he likes to wear when giving signals to the pitchers on his team. A possessive spark flares in him when he thinks about Kazuya working with other pitchers but he knows— because Kazuya told him— that they’re just coworkers and the only pitcher he considers his is Eijun.
He squeezes Kazuya’s hand once. Kazuya squeezes back.
Sometimes Eijun thinks back to his younger self and wonders if anything would have prepared him for the way life turned out. Eijun can hardly believe it now and while he could have gone without some of the more devastating things that have happened to him, he still knows exactly how fortunate he is. To be snuggled up on the couch with the person he can wholeheartedly say is the love of his life is truly something to be grateful for.
In one way or another, Kazuya has been a deciding factor in his most critical moments. He was the reason Eijun went to Seidou, he was the reason Eijun decided to aim for the pros, and he is the reason Eijun can still sit here with a smile on his face and a weightlessness to his heart.
This easy intimacy that they’ve built between themselves isn’t exactly surprising to anyone who knows them. The only surprising thing, at least according to his parents, is that they aren’t even officially dating after all this time knowing each other. Because to the people who know them, they already act like an old married couple, but to Eijun, who's been hyperaware of Kazuya since the day they met, it is surprising.
They’d always been close, more than a typical senpai-kouhai relationship but the term friends was never used either. Partners are what they’ve been to each other, a term that has many different meanings depending on the context. They just never really gave it context. They still haven’t given it context but the hard line that used to exist between them disappeared before his eyes and now they can admit to finding comfort in that intimacy.
It can still sometimes be hard to believe how inseparable they've become. While Eijun's memory isn't as sharp as it used to be, he doesn't think he'll ever forget the day that kickstarted this shift in their relationship.
Notes:
next chapter- flashback time! and my favorite part of this whole fic!!
Chapter Text
Today is not a good day.
Eijun had been told over and over that there were good days and bad days, he just had to focus on pushing through the bad ones. No one ever told him what to do when the bad days build up like a brick wall around him, high enough that they block out any of the light a good day might bring him.
The doctors tell him to stay active, take his medications, adhere to his diet, and don’t miss treatments. The nurses and technicians say that his attitude is what’s most important. Stay positive and remain in control of it. All things that are easier said than done. Everyone knows that professional athletes need to have a strong sense of self-discipline so Eijun would have no problems. He is the perfect candidate to go through something like this. As if that were something to be praised for.
But this has all worn him down in ways nothing else before ever has. He started dialysis with hope, with voices in his ear telling him he should be grateful, that this is what was keeping him alive. What else is he supposed to do when the thing keeping his body alive is the same thing that’s wearing down his soul?
He's been on dialysis for a couple of months now and while it's not the end of the world, it is like it has stopped spinning and now all Eijun can do is keep breathing until his next treatment.
That’s how he ends up lying in his bed, in the dark because the lights are too bright, and staring at the wall. He knows he should at least go downstairs and sit in the presence of his family but the effort to do so is monumental. Lately, just looking at his mother’s gentle face makes his stomach coil. If only she knew what thoughts were floating through his head these days. Or his Gramps, whose energy he hasn't been able to match lately even though all he wants is to laugh full-bellied again with him.
His cell phone sits on his desk, turned off with the screen facing down. The more his unread messages pile up, the harder it becomes to reply to them until he gives up altogether. It’d be so simple to just pick any of his contacts, any of the people who have been by his side faithfully for years, and yet the thought of being asked are you okay? one more time makes him want to scream.
In the past, Eijun would slip on his sneakers and go for a run to clear his head but now he’s in the worst shape of his life and even thinking about it makes him want to curl up into a ball. Every day is the same pain over and over until it’s not and he’s skipping appointments and leaving his meds forgotten on the counter. It’s easier following a restrictive diet when he doesn’t eat all and it’s hard to have a reason to be hungry when he doesn’t get out of bed. It’s a vicious cycle of being so worn down emotionally that he can’t take care of himself physically which chips away at him mentally. Before he knows it, he’s deeper down a rabbit hole that he can’t rationalize himself out of.
But he’s supposed to be grateful, he reminds himself as he stares at his wall without really looking at it. He’s Sawamura Eijun so he should smile and loudly laugh it off even when he constantly has complications from his treatments. He’s told he’s strong and will push through this but there is no other side to get to when this is the rest of his life. His grief howls that things weren’t supposed to be this way but the universe doesn’t care because this is how things are.
He knows from experience that dwelling in his thoughts never leads anywhere good. Even when he’s aware of that, he doesn’t know how to stop these negative emotions from festering until he’s left feeling powerless. Or maybe he does know how, that he only needs to pick his head up, to sit up and put both feet on solid ground but he doesn’t. He can’t. So those thoughts keep coming and he’s left with the added shame and guilt of doing nothing.
The only thing that temporarily breaks his rumination is the sound of knocking on his bedroom door. His parents spend most of the day working in the fields now that it’s the middle of summer and take turns checking up on him. His grandfather will try to help even in his old age, but he is more likely to be found in the greenhouse or inside where it’s cooler.
After hearing this knock, he swears that this time he’ll get up instead of brushing them off. If they ask him to sit outside or take a walk, he’ll do it. He will. He'll pull himself together and stop rotting away in his bed. Better things will come, he just has to get up.
But a few seconds pass without Eijun giving any answer and—
“Sawamura?”
Eijun’s breath hitches and he’s sitting up before he even realizes it, staring at the door as if he can see through it. A knot forms in his throat because that can’t be…? That voice, he knows that voice and there’s no way he would be here right now. Maybe he fell asleep while lying in bed and is dreaming or maybe he never woke this morning in the first place.
“Can I come in?” Miyuki asks with another few soft knocks.
Now he’s standing, footsteps light on the wood floor as he inches toward the door because Miyuki’s here. In his house. Outside his door. He freezes from the unexpected panic because Miyuki is somehow the last person he wants to see but the only person whose presence he craves. He’s the reason Eijun turned his phone off because the Miyuki he imagines in his head that lacks the agency of the real Miyuki is so much different than the one outside his door.
The Miyuki in his head doesn’t talk about the elephant in the room or the fact that Eijun hasn’t responded to any of his calls or texts in weeks. He doesn’t talk about the way Eijun was forcing his smiles the last time they saw each other in person and instead focuses on how Eijun just wants him by his side without any of the baggage he’s started collecting. That Miyuki doesn’t exist though and the one here with him can’t be happy about the way he’s been shut out.
A part of him is hoping that Miyuki will forget about him, move on with his life and with baseball because Eijun can no longer keep up. He's spent so many years chasing after Miyuki and clinging on to what they had in high school and yet it all amounted to nothing. All that time wasted and now all he feels is a heavy grief over what could have been.
It turns out that instead of letting himself be crushed by the weight of his sorrows, it’s easier to keep Miyuki at arm’s length. It’s easier to let calls go to a voicemail he’ll never check and leave unread text messages to pile up and taunt him. It’s easier, he tells himself. Even when Miyuki’s the person he wants to talk to the most.
Because what do they even have left to talk about?
“I know you’re in there.” Miyuki sounds unimpressed and his voice raises in volume as if to prove it. “Your grandfather told me.”
At least that explains how he got in. It’s not the first time Miyuki’s visited his home in Nagano. He knows his family, his address, and has even sat on the very bed he’d been hiding in a few seconds ago.
Eijun takes a deep breath and swallows down the lump in his throat that’s urging him to hide. It’s a mistake because the tacky, gross feeling in his mouth only reminds him that he hasn’t brushed his teeth. He hasn’t bathed in a few days either so he knows his hair is greasy and flat and the old t-shirt and shorts he’s wearing should’ve been thrown in the wash by now. His appearance is shameful but he has no one but himself to blame and now he has to face Miyuki like this.
He opens his door quickly before he can change his mind and shove himself back under his covers.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, quickly scanning Miyuki’s face before looking off into his room. Miyuki’s face is almost unreadable with his jaw locked and his eyes hard but Eijun can tell he’s not happy. That’s fine. Eijun can work with that. In fact, it’ll make things easier for him.
“Checking up on my pitcher.” There’s a false nonchalance to the way he says it and it only grates on Eijun’s nerves. He wishes Miyuki would say his piece and leave.
“I’m not your pitcher,” Eijun retorts with a noticeable amount of bitterness. He doesn’t meet Miyuki’s eyes but he knows he’s being studied.
“You will always be my pitcher,” Miyuki replies on instinct. His tone has changed into something softer and Eijun hates it. He doesn’t need to be coddled or treated like a little kid. He’d rather Miyuki be angry. At least that way he won’t be looking at Eijun with pity because he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle it if Miyuki of all people starts treating him that way.
“So that means you can show up at my house?” He frowns at how snippy he sounds even to himself. Miyuki hasn’t done anything wrong but Eijun’s nerves can’t seem to handle anything these days. It’s yet another thing he’s lost control of.
He finally looks up at Miyuki if only to offer him an apologetic look but instead, it leaves him looking guilty.
“You weren’t answering any of my calls or texts,” Miyuki explains simply as he crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. Eijun doesn’t offer to let him in his room and Miyuki doesn’t push him to. “Or Kuramochi’s. Or anyone else’s. I had to get your mom’s number from Wakana and call her myself. She’s worried about you. We all are.”
“No need to be. Everyone can worry about themselves because I’m dealing with it.” Eijun shrugs, trying to act casual and like this is all no big deal. That Miyuki’s done nothing but waste his time by coming to check up on him in person.
“Is that why you’ve locked yourself away in your room? Because you're ‘dealing with it’?” Miyuki clearly isn't buying it which only further ticks off his already sensitive nerves. He gives Eijun a once over, no doubt seeing everything that Eijun was already feeling worthless about. “When’s the last time you ate? Or took a shower?”
Eijun scoffs. “Is this why you’re here? To lecture me?” He has to clench his jaw because his eyes are already burning and the last thing he wants to do is break down after holding himself together for so long.
Miyuki shrugs, throwing a hand up and at a loss for what to do. “If that’s what it takes for you to stop ignoring me then yes.”
“Then…” Eijun swallows and fights between the two sides of him that want entirely different things. Lately, the side of him that wants to be alone and repress the fact that everything has changed has been winning every internal tug-of-war in his brain. And it wins now too. “Then I’ll pay more attention to my messages so really there was no need for you to come all this way. You can go now.”
Miyuki’s brows pinch together and there’s clear offense on his face at Eijun’s quick dismissal. “No.”
“What do you mean no?” Eijun sputters in disbelief. Miyuki only straightens, puffing out his chest and taking up more space in his doorway. “You should leave.”
“Make me.” He shrugs and his face falls back into that familiar mask of indifference. Eijun can’t read him but the way he’s observing Eijun makes his skin crawl. He needs Miyuki gone or he won’t be able to breathe for much longer.
“You’re so irritating you know that?” Eijun’s hands ball into fists at his side and his teeth grind together.
“Thanks!” It’s a typical Miyuki answer but his smirk is too fake and Eijun can tell he’s purposely trying to press his buttons. He’s feeling Eijun out and seeing how he’s going to respond.
“Ugh!! Can you just listen to me for once?!” Eijun shouts, feeling the last threads that are holding him together snap. If Miyuki wants him mad then Eijun will give him mad. He doesn’t care how rude he’s being as he starts pushing at Miyuki’s chest, trying to force him away from his room and hopefully out of his house. “I don’t want you here!”
Miyuki doesn’t budge. He only looks down at Eijun like he’s a petulant child throwing a tantrum which pisses Eijun off even more. “Your mom said I could stay for dinner.”
“I don't care what she said. Get. Out.” Red starts clouding his vision and a burning heat spreads over his face. His hands on Miyuki’s chest twist to grab at his shirt if only to stave off his need to hit something.
“Go ahead,” Miyuki taunts with a tilt of his chin, “get mad.”
“Shut up!” Eijun growls and tries to shake him, a move that Miyuki would let him get away with when they were younger. Now, Miyuki grabs back at him, taking hold of his too-thin wrists and trapping them in place.
“I knew you had some fight left in you,” he goads with a wicked glint in his eyes like he’s got Eijun right where he wants him.
“I hate you so much,” Eijun hisses back right in Miyuki’s face.
His mask finally starts to break at that and he laughs dryly. His grasp on Eijun tightens firmly as he starts dragging him out of his room and back downstairs. “Please tell me more,” he bites out with enough sarcasm to make Eijun’s head spin. “I want to hear about everything that makes you hate me.”
“You’re an impossible ass for one thing!” Eijun immediately yells, twisting his arm to try and break free from Miyuki’s death grip on him. He still trails after Miyuki, hot on his heels and giving him an earful. “It’s like it’s your goal in life to piss me off! You never miss an opportunity to tease me and... and throw out annoyingly sarcastic comments! Your face is stupid!”
Miyuki only pauses long enough to throw Eijun a look over his shoulder. “My face is stupid?”
“You make me repeat myself!” Eijun shrieks loud enough to burst both their eardrums. “You never listen! Gosh, I just want to strangle you sometimes.”
Miyuki only turns to face him when they've reached the bottom of the stairs. He lets go of Eijun and gives him a patronizing, “You done?”
“No!” Eijun clutches his wrists to his chest and rubs at them even though Miyuki's hold was nowhere near tight enough to hurt. “In fact, I could keep going for the next ten years and not be anywhere close to done! Even if you— wait, what are you doing?”
“No need to stop on my behalf,” Miyuki calls over his shoulder as he makes his way into the kitchen. “You made it clear you want to keep going.”
Eijun storms after him with more venom on the tip of his tongue. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Miyuki’s navy duffel bag sitting in the hallway by the entrance. There's a bouquet of white daisies lying on top of it.
He bites his lip to keep it from trembling and follows Miyuki as he starts shuffling through the refrigerator.
“What are you doing?” he repeats, putting a hand on Miyuki’s arm to stop him.
Miyuki doesn't stop or even look at him. “You look like you haven't eaten. I'll make you something.”
“Miyuki-senpai,” Eijun says in a much softer tone, hoping that if he uses a different approach, Miyuki will listen to him, “I think it's best if you go.” He needs Miyuki to go because he wants to break down and Miyuki’s the last person he wants to have around to witness it.
Miyuki drops his arms, letting the refrigerator doors swing closed, and turns to fully face Eijun. He searches Eijun's face intently, looking for any cracks in the act he’s putting on. It’s hard to meet Miyuki’s eyes when he’s looking at him like this. It sends ripples of uneasiness through his chest until he’s blinking and letting his gaze drop.
“Is that really what you want? For me to leave?” His voice is strained, a low whisper that lets Eijun know he isn’t nearly as composed as he thought.
Eijun hates how well they know each other. There are only so many times Eijun can ask him to leave before his lies catch up to him. Still, he tries once more. “It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s better for both of us if you go. I told you, I’m doing fine.”
“Oh, knock it off Sawamura,” Miyuki scoffs. The crease between his brows deepens and his tone turns sharp like the pointed edge of a knife. “Do you think I don't know what you're trying to do? Stop pushing me away. I'm not leaving.”
“Why?” Eijun all but begs. “It's the middle of the season. I don’t understand how you even have the time to be here.” He does know, however. He’s memorized Miyuki’s schedule even though it hurts too much to watch any of his games. It’s why he knows the Giants had an earlier game today, allowing Miyuki to get here before dinner and not have to worry about tomorrow due to the short break in his schedule.
“Because I don't care about that,” Miyuki shouts, throwing his hands up like he’s on the verge of giving up. He takes a step back when Eijun flinches at the sudden change in his volume and rubs his eyes underneath his glasses.
After a few seconds, Eijun firmly whispers, “You shouldn't be here.”
“I should,” Miyuki bites back harshly.
“I don't understand!” Eijun yells. “Why are you refusing to listen to me? You've never done—”
“Because I'm terrified, okay!” Miyuki roars, cutting him off.
Eijun freezes and his jaw drops to stare open-mouthed at Miyuki. It's the first time Eijun really looks at him since he got here and that's when he sees it. He was too far in his own head to notice it but Miyuki doesn't look like himself. His hair is messy like he’s been compulsively running his fingers through it and his eyes are rimmed with a deep red. His chest is starting to heave with labored breaths and he… and he looks scared. Like a lost child.
“What?” Eijun asks, his voice shaking.
“Sawamura,” Miyuki pleads with wide eyes and trembling lips as he tries to find a way to voice his racing thoughts. Eijun’s never heard him sound like this before, so distraught that he was willing to drop all his usual cockiness. “I have no idea what's happening to you. I don't understand it, I don't know what any of it means. All I do is sit on my phone and read article after article, trying to figure out what all these medical terms mean and if you're going to be okay. And we live so far apart, I never get to see you and make sure you're still alive and then suddenly you go radio silent on me when any other day you’re blowing up my phone.”
He takes a step toward Eijun and places a hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself. From this close, Eijun can see the sheen over his honey-colored eyes and his already heavy heart sinks even lower. Miyuki blinks rapidly and shakes his head, trying to hold himself together.
“I can't…” He struggles to push on and Eijun has to stop himself from reaching out for him. “You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to but please don't shut me out.”
Eijun puffs out a wet breath, his throat tightening with every word from Miyuki’s mouth. His own eyes grow hot and he hugs his arms over his chest. It hits him then that he’s never seen Miyuki like this, so vulnerable and emotional. He’s on the verge of tears and it’s all Eijun’s fault. He hates it.
“I had to call your mom,” Miyuki continues, the anguish ringing clear in his voice. His hand on the counter balls into a fist and his knuckles turn white. Each word comes out faster than the last and he sounds so hopeless as he tries to be understood. “That's how desperate I was.”
The second Miyuki breaks and the first silent tears begin to fall from behind his glasses, Eijun’s vision turns blurry. His breath hitches and he’s crying too with hot tears streaming down his face to the floor.
“Imagine my horror when she was practically crying telling me how you were. That you never leave your room. You don't eat. You don't take your medications. She told me you skipped a dialysis treatment this week. And one the week before. You know that’s terrifying, right?”
Of course, Eijun knows. He knows. Without dialysis, he wouldn’t even make it another two weeks. It’s not that he wants to die but it’s hard to care about how he lives when what he lived for slipped through his fingers. The only time he feels relief now is in the moments before he falls asleep, that's why he stays in bed all day. It gives him the smallest comfort to know that he’s made it to the end of another day while ignoring the blaring question of what will get him through the next.
“I know that this is all nothing compared to what you're going through but please, Sawamura, please.” Miyuki takes his glasses off and wipes his red eyes before reaching out to Eijun. He cradles Eijun's face in both of his hands and brushes away his tears with his thumbs. “You have to get through this. I’ll do whatever you need so just keep holding on. I know you can. You've always been the strongest person I know.”
There it is. That damn word again. Eijun used to wear it like a badge of honor until he realized what a nightmare it really was to be labeled that. He’s always been the one people could count on to maintain a strong spirit, no matter how hopeless the situation got. Even before he had the skills to back him up, his unwavering and tenacious determination would inspire the people around him to not give up.
But that was baseball and this…
This is so much more than a game. There is no team to back him up or fans to cheer him on. There are no breaks and he can’t even ask for a time out to catch his breath. Every day is a constant battle of being on defense and never being able to take the lead no matter how hard he tries.
And then suddenly, he no longer has the strength to try.
So no, Eijun isn’t strong and he doesn’t care to be. The word strong is no longer a compliment when he doesn’t have the choice to be anything but that.
Eijun shakes his head within Miyuki’s gentle hold, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears drip down his cheeks. He grabs onto Miyuki’s forearms, clutching at his warm skin like it’s a lifeline. When he opens his eyes, he’s hit with how wrecked Miyuki looks, his forehead furrowed as his bottom lip trembles as he searches for the right words to say. Before he can begin to press him, Eijun beats him to it.
“I-I’m not,” Eijun cries. “I'm not strong and I don't want to have to be.” This is precisely what he was trying to avoid, troubling Miyuki with his problems and making him look like this. Yet once he starts, he can't stop, even as he feels like he’s crumbling. “I’m done! I’m tired of being called strong or resilient. Of other people expecting me to just push through this all by myself.”
His uneven gasps turn into hiccups and Miyuki’s hands tense up. The panic on his face is clear to see even through Eijun’s wet eyes but he doesn’t look away. He keeps his focus on Eijun and it only frustrates Eijun more because his mind is a mess and he can’t get his thoughts in order enough to convey them properly. As he falls more into hysterics, he can no longer see and his words stagger from his lips.
“I can’t do it anymore!” Eijun wails in between a few deep sniffles. “I-I can’t laugh anymore! I’m tired! I don’t…I don’t have anything left to give!”
Agony constricts his heart and throat and he can't speak another word. A loud whimper escapes him and Miyuki immediately pulls him in by the back of his neck. Eijun ducks his head and buries it deep into Miyuki’s chest, falling heavy into his arms. He wraps his own arms around Miyuki’s middle, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as if Miyuki will vanish any second. Miyuki hugs him just as tightly with one hand cradling Eijun’s head and the other wound around his shoulders.
When his knees buckle, Miyuki lowers them both to sit on the kitchen floor where Eijun can crawl into his lap and erase any remaining distance between them. The air in the room grows thick and heavy, silent except for the sobs that wrack through Eijun’s body. He lets himself fall apart when Miyuki’s holding him firmly enough to keep the pieces of him from shattering across the floor.
Everything that Eijun was holding in for months comes flooding out of him all at once. The numbness he’d been holding onto could have only ever been a temporary balm on his pain. He feels so stupid for ever trying to push Miyuki away now that he’s in his arms. Of course, Miyuki wouldn’t hate him for things that are out of his control but his distorted thoughts have been tricking him more than he cares to admit.
“Shh,” Miyuki soothingly hums into his hair. He rubs circles on Eijun’s back, the repetitive motion working to comfort him. “I got you. I’m right here.” His voice is hoarse with raw emotion and even though he never wanted to drag Miyuki down with him, he needs to hear it. Because it’s proof that he cares.
Eijun continues to cry until his eyes run dry. Miyuki’s shirt is damp under his cheek and he can taste the saltiness of his tears. Soft whines escape him every few moments and each time Miyuki responds with a reassuring “I’ve got you” or “I’m not going anywhere”.
Only once he’s gone quiet does exhaustion hit him like a truck. He lets out a weary sigh as the tension in his muscles relaxes. The death grip he had on Miyuki slowly unfurls and he turns into a dead weight on his lap. Miyuki, thankfully, adjusts his arms to keep supporting him, to keep them physically close. After only a few minutes of being held, Eijun’s beginning to realize how touch-starved he’d become.
He feels Miyuki’s chest move as he takes a deep breath and then clears his throat. “Okay…” he starts softly to himself as if to test out his voice. Then louder he says, “Okay, then I’ll do it for you.”
Eijun’s brows snap together and he leans back, but not out of Miyuki’s hold, to see his face. “What?”
Miyuki meets his eyes and Eijun can see the dried tear tracks that run down and away from his bloodshot eyes. “If you have nothing left,” he explains resolutely, “then I’ll give you everything. If you can only give 10% then I’ll give you that 90%. I’ll make up the difference.”
Eijun’s sure that if he had any tears left, he’d start crying again but all he gets out is a shuddering breath. He doesn’t know what to say to that so he hides in the crook of Miyuki’s neck again. He takes a deep inhale now that his lungs are finally working again and fills his head with Miyuki’s scent.
There’s a lightness to him now that he was able to get some things off his chest. He would’ve been fine with Miyuki just lending him an ear, except he’s done more than listen, he’s trying to come up with a solution that addresses exactly what had Eijun so dejected. All he wants is softness, ease, and for someone else to be his strength. It’d be so easy to let Miyuki take care of him and hand him the reins but—
“I’m sorry,” Eijun mumbles as he lifts his head once more.
“For what?” Miyuki asks with a small chuckle.
“I didn’t want to be a burden to you.”
“Burden?” The disbelief in his voice is loud. “I don’t think you know what that word means if that’s what you think you are to me.” Eijun doesn't know what to think when Miyuki’s looking at him like that. The warmth in his amber eyes has returned and he's giving him a gentle smile, something tender and soft. He has to look away before he starts reading too much into it.
“What else can you call me?” He looks down at his lap where he's wringing his hands. “All I’ve done is inconvenience you. I know you’re busy and yet I made you come all the way here. And now you’re offering up to do,” he shakes his head, “way too much for me.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Miyuki assures him as he starts gliding his fingers through Eijun’s unkempt hair. It’s quickly becoming addicting, the way Miyuki touches him so softly that he nuzzles further into him like a clingy baby animal. He’s used to Miyuki ruffling his hair, throwing an arm around his shoulders, or the occasional hug, but this is something different and without any of the usual pretenses.
“First of all,” Miyuki pushes on as his nails lightly scratch at Eijun’s scalp, ”you didn’t make me do anything. Secondly, you are not a burden. A burden is something you don’t want and I want you. Always.” He doesn’t give Eijun any time to digest that when he asks, “Is that why you were avoiding me? Because you thought you were being some kind of nuisance to me?”
Eijun gnaws at his bottom lip because that is part of the reason, but it doesn’t explain all of it.
“Ever since I retired…” Eijun begins but hesitates.
Miyuki nods, asking him to continue and it’s hard not to comply when he’s looking at Eijun like that. When he’s touching him and taking up the air Eijun breathes and filling in the cracks of his broken heart.
“It’s sometimes hard for me to look at you.” Miyuki’s face morphs into bewilderment and Eijun is fast to rectify himself. “Not because of anything you did! But it’s just… all I ever wanted was to be in a battery with you and now that can’t happen. I thought I’d have more time, that’d it be easier to get onto the same team when we got older but now you’re my biggest regret. You’re going to move on and there’s no way for me to catch up to you now.”
Miyuki's face relaxes into something softer but still resigned. Eijun thinks a part of it is understanding, that he too is mourning what could have been. The years they spent playing against each other were fun and he’ll always cherish their friendly rivalry but it doesn’t compare to their time at Seidou. The harsh truth is that a year and a half is all that they had together. The few times they were able to team up during All-Star games or for the National team were nothing more than cruel ways to tease him— bringing their battery together only to tear it apart after a few short days.
He knows that Miyuki feels the same way even if he doesn’t say so and Eijun wouldn’t expect him to. Miyuki’s always taken a special interest in his growth as a player, it’s why they spend every off-season together and he no longer finds himself begging for Miyuki to catch even one of his pitches. So he knows Miyuki would never say anything that would distract or hinder him, like saying he wishes they were on the same team again.
Miyuki won’t say it, even if Eijun still wants to hear it, even now when it’ll only make his chest ache. There is a little flame of hope that he’ll admit it but what he says instead surprises him just as much.
“Do you think that baseball is the only thing that ties us together?” Miyuki asks with his head tilted slightly.
He doesn’t know how to answer that because he honestly doesn’t know. Baseball is what brought them together but what’s been keeping them together after all these years? Eijun knows the answer on his end of things but as for Miyuki, he can only guess. Baseball is central to who they are as people, so can it even be separated from them at this point?
To avoid answering that question directly, Eijun throws out, “You were the one who came here saying you were checking up on your pitcher.”
Miyuki laughs like he’s at the end of his wits. “And you believed that?” Eijun shrugs. “Sawamura, that has never been anything but a thinly veiled excuse I use whenever I want to see you.”
“Oh,” Eijun says slowly as the words sink in. “Well, you could’ve just said that! How was I supposed to know?”
“It was kinda the point that you didn’t,” Miyuki mumbles under his breath, briefly looking away. He tries to push Eijun’s head back onto his shoulder but Eijun fights it, determined to see the faint blush coloring Miyuki’s face. “But no, baseball isn’t the only thing between us and I’m offended that you thought it was.”
“It’s not my fault you never say what’s on your mind,” Eijun defends with a pout. Even as he says it, it starts sinking in how ridiculous he is for ever questioning Miyuki. His mind has been a turbulent storm but after being able to cry, the waters are finally calm again. How could he have doubted how much Miyuki cares for him when he’d been crying with him, huddled up together on the floor of his kitchen?
“You know, only a few moments ago you were giving me a piece of your own mind by telling me all the reasons why you absolutely hate me.” He side-eyes Eijun with skepticism written all over his face. Eijun flushes red knowing that he didn’t mean anything he said when he was caught up in the moment. Satisfied with the way Eijun turns sheepish, he goes on. “And yet despite that lengthy list, you’ve still kept me around after almost 17 years. Well, I’ve got a list of my own, you know, and yet here I am. I imagine our reasons for that are the same.”
That’s not something Eijun can wrap his head around quite yet. Miyuki is saying nothing and yet everything all at the same time. Eijun knows what his reason is. He's known since high school but for Miyuki to say they are one and the same isn’t something he’s ready to bet on.
Even if they aren’t on the exact same page, he’s confident that they are in the same book, the same chapter even, after today. If Miyuki’s willing to show him this kind of affection, no matter what his intentions are, Eijun’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. That’s why he wraps his arms around Miyuki’s neck and snuggles back into him and the embrace Miyuki engulfs him in.
He knows that things aren’t magically all better now but what once felt insurmountable now seems doable with Miyuki holding him.
They sit nestled together for a few more minutes until Eijun’s family comes out from wherever they are hiding. The cocoon that formed around them breaks and they’re forced back into reality where they’re still sitting on the kitchen floor.
If his parents overheard any of their conversation or notice their puffy faces, they don’t point it out. They’re happy enough to greet Miyuki and ask him about everything they’ve missed since the last time they saw him. It leads to Miyuki helping to cook dinner while they tell him about all of Eijun’s new dietary restrictions.
“So can you still eat natto?” Miyuki gives him a shit-eating grin over his shoulder because, of course, that’s what he’s worried about.
Eijun fakes a gag. “No! Not only is it bad for my taste buds but it’s bad for me medically. Too much potassium!”
“How unfortunate,” Miyuki snickers. “Your reactions when eating it are always the best.”
Eijun huffs at the way Miyuki’s shoulders shake from his blatant amusement.
They eat dinner a little later than usual but no one complains. Neither his parents nor grandfather make a big deal out of him leaving his room for the first time in days but he can feel their eyes watching him. All of their tiptoeing around him makes him feel fragile like glass, too afraid to move. He knows it’s only out of concern, that they don’t know how to deal with this any more than Eijun does but it makes his chest constrict to know that he’s the reason their family has changed.
Once they’re done and the table is cleaned, Miyuki excuses them and ushers Eijun upstairs where he starts making good on his promise. Eijun wasn’t exactly sure what Miyuki meant when he said he was going to give him his everything but apparently, it means this: guiding Eijun into the bathroom to help bathe him. It has him sputtering and turning red while trying to push back against Miyuki. He doesn’t let Eijun win and with how solemn he looks, Eijun knows this isn’t him being teased or pranked.
That doesn’t make it any easier when Miyuki lifts his shirt over his head. His arms cross over his chest on instinct and he hunches over to make himself appear smaller. He is all too aware of how his body has changed. He’s lost weight and the muscles he's worked so hard to maintain over the years have deteriorated. The calluses on his left hand have softened and his nails are jagged from being bitten. It’s the middle of summer and yet his skin is all one shade of pale that lacks all his typical tan lines.
He's being stripped of more than just his clothes as Miyuki sits him under the spray of the shower head. It’s too quiet but he doesn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. He stares off into the corner, avoiding the mirror in front of him in case he doesn’t recognize his reflection. He can see Miyuki’s movements out of the corner of his eye and freezes at his first touch. One hand curls its fingers around Eijun’s bicep but on his shoulder, there’s the barest brush of contact as Miyuki’s lips graze his wet skin.
If Miyuki notices that not all the water dripping down his face is from the shower, then he doesn’t mention it as he lathers shampoo into his hair.
He lets his brain turn off as Miyuki walks him through the motions. By the time he’s clean and dry, his fatigue has caught up to him and his eyelids droop even as he fights back against sleep. Miyuki’s already planned to stay the night and take a late train back to Tokyo tomorrow but Eijun’s scared to let Miyuki out of his sight.
Sitting on his bed, he stifles a yawn as Miyuki shuffles awkwardly by his door. His bag had been moved to the guest room after dinner so he could easily head to bed himself. Eijun doesn’t want him to leave but he’s not sure if it’s right for him to ask Miyuki to stay and sleep in his bed with him. He’s not good at coming up with excuses when he so plainly wants to be in Miyuki’s arms again.
“I brought you flowers,” Miyuki says suddenly, steeling himself with a familiar game they play. His back is straighter, but Eijun can still detect his underlying nerves.
Eijun recalls the ones he had seen by the front door and smiles. “What do they mean?” He asks, aware that Miyuki is fishing for an opening to say something.
Miyuki takes a step toward him. “I miss you.”
He wonders if Miyuki’s plan when he got here ended up being scrapped when came face to face with Eijun. Maybe he meant to lead with the flowers and confession until their emotions took over and he was forced to improvise. It almost doesn’t feel real because of that. It’s out of character how open Miyuki is being, almost like he’s leveled up and unlocked a new feature. Miyuki’s never been the kind of guy to ever show weakness. Then again Eijun’s never been the kind of guy to put a filter on his honest feelings.
That doesn’t make it difficult to match Miyuki because he’s missed him terribly too despite being the one not picking up his phone. If Miyuki’s going to give it his all then there’s no way Eijun won’t respond to him in kind.
Eijun opens up his arms. “I miss you too.”
When Miyuki falls into him, it’s so easy.
*****
The next day, Eijun stands on the sidewalk outside his least favorite place, shuffling his feet. The sun overhead beats down on them, making Eijun lift a hand to shield his eyes. It’s a conditioned response at this point for dread to fill him until he clams up, unable to take another step.
They’d talked a little bit about their plans the day before with the only thing on their to-do list being that Eijun goes to his next treatment. In the past, someone would always stay with Eijun for the full four hours which is why his Gramps and Miyuki took the train with him into the city. The dialysis center he got used to frequenting is a clean building with a facade made entirely of glass that lets him see the too-bright lights of the lobby.
“Eijun?” his grandfather calls back to him. Eijun blinks and sees both Gramps and Miyuki by the entrance, waiting for him to follow. “Are you going to give up here?”
His grandfather’s grin is wide and mischievous. Eijun recognizes it as a challenge, one that is meant to fire him up because he isn't one to back down from a challenge. But he’s already faced this challenge many times which is why he knows it’ll be harder. He hasn’t been taking care of himself and he isn’t looking forward to the consequences of that.
Gramps says something to Miyuki that he doesn't catch and then Miyuki’s walking toward him with his hands casually in his pockets. He comes to stand in front of Eijun, blocking the sun from his eyes.
“What can you give today?” he asks simply.
Truthfully, he doesn’t want to give anything. He wants to go back home and lay in bed with Miyuki like how they were when they woke up this morning. He doesn’t want to subject himself to feeling nauseous for the rest of the day or have the nurses give him disapproving looks for not keeping on top of his appointments. He’s close to telling Miyuki that he's fine until he remembers that lying is less than useless.
Eijun shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe 1%.”
“That’s better than yesterday,” Miyuki offers with an encouraging smile.
Eijun tries to match his smile but it twists his mouth in a way that feels more like a grimace.
“You look like you need a boost,” Miyuki declares and takes a step back to stand in the middle of the sidewalk. He takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders back before meeting Eijun’s eyes.
“What are you doing?” Eijun asks, unsure and with growing concern as Miyuki's nervousness at whatever he’s about to do builds up.
Miyuki looks left and then right, surveying everyone else who’s walking around, and then clears his throat. “Listen up because I’m only going to say this once.”
Now Eijun is really worried but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything else when Miyuki cups his hands around his mouth and shouts at the top of his lungs.
“Oshi! Oshi! Oshi!”
Any chatter from the people around them instantly halts as they temporarily stare at them. Miyuki turns beet red and rubs at the back of his neck, waiting for Eijun to say something. All Eijun can do is gape at him, his mouth hanging open in stunned silence until his grandfather almost falls over as he clutches his stomach with laughter.
“Hahaha! This is too much!” Gramps wheezes out in between fits of laughter.
Eijun lets out a small laugh and then another and another until it begins to bubble up out of him and he dissolves into laughter. Of all the things Miyuki could have done, Eijun never would have expected that— for Miyuki to shout out Eijun’s tried and true call knowing full well that he was about to embarrass himself in public. He wishes he would have recorded it.
“It’s not that funny,” Miyuki mumbles but he sounds more proud than anything else.
“Look at that!” Gramps calls out as he catches his breath. “Eijun, your stupidity is rubbing off on him!”
Eijun’s laughter comes to an abrupt stop and he turns to his grandfather with a huff. “Any stupidity I have was inherited from you! And you!” Miyuki’s eyes widen as Eijun pokes him in the chest. “You did it wrong, it’s more like this—” he takes in a breath to fill up his lungs and then tilts his head back to yell up into the sky. “Oshi!! Oshi!! Oshi!!”
It feels good in the way that screaming full volume out into the open air always does. Shouting something at the top of his lungs that he only ever does in times of triumph and elation brings back those same feelings. The sun warming his skin. A crowd cheering his name. The high of being the one to make something out of an impossible situation.
Maybe that’s what this moment is. A turning point.
He still has his reservations but there's no point in spending these last few minutes worrying about something that will pass no matter what. He feels okay now so he won't prematurely ruin that feeling by the sense of fear his treatment gives him.
He has to get through the door first.
“What are you both waiting for?” Eijun grabs Miyuki’s hand and drags him back toward the entrance before he can lose steam. “Let’s go in!”
It's mostly the same as every other time Eijun went for dialysis. The room is too bright and while there aren’t that many people here right now, their recliners are all spaced a little too close for comfort.
Two chairs are brought out once Eijun’s vitals are taken and he’s reminded of how poorly he’s been taking care of himself. Miyuki takes the spot right next to him on his left with his Gramps down by his feet. While his grandfather tries to flirt with the poor nurse overseeing him, Eijun’s more worried about the technician hooking him up to the machine.
“What is that?” Miyuki asks for the twentieth time in five minutes. He’s leaning over Eijun, staring with wide eyes as the technician sanitizes his forearm where his AV fistula is.
She cuts her eyes up at Miyuki for a second before returning to what she was doing. “This is his access point. I’ll place two needles here, one in his artery where blood will flow out the tubing and into the dialysis machine. Once it’s filtered, it returns to the body through the other needle in his vein.”
As Miyuki ponders her answer, Eijun can already see the next question forming in his head. He giggles and shares a look with the technician. It’s one of amusement and thankfulness at her patience for not smacking Miyuki who’s acting like a toddler that just learned how to ask what.
Miyuki must not have been lying when he said he was scared because he’s taking this chance to learn every single thing he can about Eijun’s treatment. Eijun could stop him but he’s asking questions Eijun never thought to and now he’s curious too.
He never realized how little he himself knew about what was happening to him. Same as Miyuki, it’s terrifying for him to be so ignorant and helpless about his own body. He can’t help but wonder what he’s been doing all this time.
Once he’s all set, they’re left to sit there for the next few hours. He always brings a few things to help pass the time, like a book, his tablet, or a handheld gaming console. His grandfather brings a deck of cards for them to play with, mostly because he always ends up winning whatever game they play. For a while, Eijun enjoys watching as Miyuki loses every round until that familiar sense of unease begins to set in.
He leans back in his chair and shuts his eyes as he becomes lightheaded. A tautness assails his middle, making his stomach churn and a low groan slip past his lips.
“You alright?” he hears Miyuki ask as the back of a cool hand presses against his forehead.
“My blood pressure’s dropping,” Eijun murmurs, his words slurring as he starts concentrating on his breathing.
“You look pale,” Gramps observes and Eijun feels him pat his leg. “I’ll go get the nurse.”
He slowly opens his eyes to peek up at Kazuya and takes in the warm smile he’s looking at him with. The hand on his forehead travels up to card through his hair, pushing his bangs back in gentle strokes. Eijun does his best to push aside the turmoil rolling through him to focus on Miyuki’s hand. It’ll pass, he tells himself and holds out for the relief that has to be waiting for him.
The nurse comes to check on him a few times, adjusting his fluids to help ease his symptoms. The rest of his treatment is spent with him on the edge of consciousness as Miyuki keeps some sort of physical contact with him the entire time. A hand in his hair. Their palms flushed together. An arm thrown across his middle. He acts as an anchor for Eijun to focus on, something that wasn’t there for him before.
That night, Miyuki has to leave and it sucks. Eijun wants to beg him to stay by his side but he knows that’s not fair. Like the mother hen he can be, Miyuki makes Eijun turn his phone back on so he can see him do it. He promises to call Eijun as often as he can and then threatens to call his mom if he doesn’t answer in a timely fashion.
Miyuki’s only gone for an hour when his phone buzzes loudly from an incoming text. Eijun opens it immediately, his beating heart allowing hope to bloom in his chest.
Miyuki-senpai: my next off day is in 3 weeks
Eijun lets out a relieved laugh as types out a response.
Me: THEN YOU BETTER KEEP WINNING UNTIL THEN 😤 LOSERS ARENT ALLOWED IN MY HOUSE!!!
Maybe he'll try to watch a few of his games in the meantime. His phone buzzes again, drawing his attention back down to it.
Miyuki-senpai: then how are you still living there?
Miyuki-senpai: but if youre going to be cheering for me, you could put on my jersey that i know you keep in your closet ;)
Eijun puffs his cheeks out in irritation but he can’t help but smile. It’s that simple. Miyuki doesn’t mention all of his unanswered texts from before or let any awkwardness linger. Eijun has something to look forward to now, something to think about and keep him going, no matter how small of a thing it might be.
Until then, he knows there are things he can work on and things he wants to learn, little by little. He wants to get started on them while he’s still riding the high of Miyuki’s visit. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that he doesn’t want to see Miyuki cry ever again, especially at his expense. And if there’s another, it’s that he doesn’t have to shoulder this alone. Refusing to ask for help might as well be the same as refusing someone else the chance to be helpful.
“Hey Mom,” Eijun calls out as he sets his phone down. He’s resting on the couch, still recovering from his treatment but no longer locked up in his room. “I think we should give my social worker a call.”
Chapter 3
Notes:
PYLADES. I'll take care of you.
ORESTES. It's rotten work.
PYLADES. Not to me. Not if it's you.-Euripides, Orestes
Chapter Text
Eijun bounds down the stairs to the kitchen as soon as he wakes up. It’s a little later than he would normally get up but his days of getting up before the sun are over. He’s well-rested, full of energy, and he has no scheduled appointments so he’s looking forward to spending the entire day with—
“Where’s Kazuya?” Eijun asks, his face falling once he notices Kazuya isn’t there. It’s rare for him to wake up before Eijun, and when he does, he’ll annoy Eijun into waking up too by poking his cheeks incessantly or pinching his nose shut. He assumed Kazuya was letting him sleep in and went down to help his mother with breakfast.
“He went into town earlier with your father,” Mom answers him as she finishes frying up some eggs.
Eijun frown deepens. “I can’t believe he just left me.”
His mom laughs and pats his cheek. “Sweetheart, they won’t be gone long.”
“It’s his loss for not spending the morning with me!” Eijun declares with a huff, plopping down at the table. “We can have fun without him! Oh!” It actually might work out that Kazuya isn’t around because there’s one thing he needs to be able to do without his keen eyes watching him. “Mom, do you want to help me pick out a birthday present for him?”
“Sure,” she agrees easily, and Eijun beams.
Kazuya’s birthday is only a week away and while Eijun has most of his gifts already ready, there is still one more thing he wants to get him. After they eat, he finds himself walking around all the small shops in town with his mom. He already has an idea in mind but if something else is to catch his eye, he wouldn’t be against another little purchase. Kazuya isn’t a materialistic person but Eijun is good at giving thoughtful and personal gifts and he has yet to get him something he hasn’t liked.
“What about something from here?” Mom suggests, stopping under the awning of a brightly lit shop to peek inside the display window. Eijun stands beside her and joins in on gazing inside the fancy jewelry shop.
“Kazuya doesn’t really wear jewelry though,” he points out, scratching his head as he looks at all the necklaces, earrings, and rings on display.
“He would if you were the one buying it for him,” she argues, craning her neck as she scans the display. Once she finds something she likes, she points it out to Eijun. “Like that one. I bet if you got him that, he’d love it.”
She’s picked a gold ring, the band thicker than ones typically made for women and with no jewels on it. Next to it are a few similar rings, all meant to be matched together in various pairs. His heart flutters weirdly fast and he jumps back, readjusting the scarf around his neck to hide more of his face. “Those are wedding rings!” he yells out, looking at his mom with his eyes almost bugging out of his head.
“Precisely!” she laughs with delight. “It’s about time you two finally settled down together.”
So embarrassing…!! “We aren’t even dating! How many times do I have to explain that?” He huffs out an exasperated sigh at once again trying to convince his family of this fact.
“Is that why he’s sleeping in your bed every night? Because you’re not dating?”
“Eh?!” Eijun lets out a surprised squeak. So they’ve been caught. Not that they were exactly trying to hide it but they also weren’t advertising it to his family. Every night, once they all retired to their rooms, Kazuya would get changed and go through his nightly routine before coming into Eijun’s room with some half-assed excuse like the guest room is so cold and then climb into his bed. Eijun has never once batted an eye at it. If Kazuya wasn’t coming to his room then Eijun surely would be the one making up flimsy excuses. “How’d you know?”
“My favorite pot,” his mom answers as if that makes any sense. Eijun’s nose scrunches up and he looks at her like she’s grown an extra head. She laughs at his confusion but explains, “If Kazuya had slept on the futon for even one night, he would have found the pot I hid folded up in it.”
Eijun snorts. “Why would you do that?”
“I was going to make a bet with your father and grandfather, but it turns out none of us were willing to bet that Kazuya would find it.”
“That still doesn’t mean anything, Mom,” Eijun insists, taking her by the arm and dragging her away before she gets any other crazy ideas. “It’s platonic bedsharing. Platonic! No funny business!”
“And you’re satisfied with it only being that?” Mom waves him off with a gloved hand, unconvinced. “Do you think your father and I were wasting time dancing around each other? No, we didn’t, because when you know, you know, and you don’t need anything more than that.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Eijun lies and turns around so that his mom can’t see the red creeping up his face. He has thought about marrying Kazuya before, a humiliating number of times too, but that doesn’t mean they can just jump right into marriage. They’d have to at least talk about it first. No, wait, before that, Kazuya would have to be interested in him enough to even want to talk about it.
“Then figure it out,” Mom demands with a scolding tone. “None of us are getting any younger and we’d like to see our only son get married before one of us kicks the bucket.”
Eijun grumbles to himself but doesn’t say anything. He may be an adult but going against his mom isn’t something he’ll ever be brave enough to do. She isn’t exactly wrong either. He’s not satisfied with the way things are and would love to take his relationship with Kazuya to the next level. No matter what, he is prepared to spend the rest of his life with him.
If this were ten years, or even one year ago, Eijun would be jumping at the chance to marry Kazuya without a second thought. Things have changed, he’s changed, and now he’s more hesitant. There are other things he has to consider. Like his health.
The fact of the matter is that Eijun’s life expectancy isn’t as clear-cut as it was before. A lot of his time and energy is spent on taking care of himself, his treatments, and going to various doctor’s appointments. He doesn’t like to travel much anymore for fear of being too far away from his dialysis machine and the reality is that his partner would have to make sacrifices for him.
These are all things that plague Eijun’s mind, things that have prevented him from telling Kazuya outright how he feels when he normally wouldn’t think twice about doing so. He can’t help but think that Kazuya would be happier with someone else who can fit with him better and can dedicate themselves to him and any children they may want to have. Kazuya deserves everything and Eijun… Eijun doesn’t believe he can give that to him.
All he can do is be happy with what he already has and never take it for granted.
*****
Even though his mom had said Kazuya wouldn’t be gone long, he’s still out doing whatever with his dad most of the day. By the time he’s back home, Eijun has expertly hidden the gift he bought and finished another novel he was in the middle of reading. They eat dinner together as his dad and Kazuya talk vaguely about all the boring chores they apparently got done. Eijun doesn’t really know, he was too busy glowering and turning his nose up at Kazuya to listen to him.
“Are you really still pouting?” Kazuya asks him later, standing in the doorway to his room after they’ve all settled down in their beds. Kazuya’s got a towel slung around his neck to catch the water that drips from his wet hair after his bath. He’s not wearing his glasses and he’s shirtless, a horrible combination for Eijun who’s trying to avoid looking at Kazuya.
“Eijun,” Kazuya half whines in a voice that he knows annoys him. “Sawamura Eijun-kun~.”
“What?” Eijun grouses, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Kazuya from where he sits on his bed.
“Dry my hair for me?” he pesters with an exaggerated pout that isn’t at all cute.
“Do it yourself since you’re so fine with spending all day without me! Without telling me!”
Kazuya rolls his eyes. “You’re so troublesome. Did you miss me that much?” He ambles over to Eijun, grabbing the hair dryer off his desk as he walks by and sits down on the floor in front of Eijun with his back facing him.
Eijun grumbles under his breath but still takes the hair dryer from him. At least this way he doesn’t have to look at Kazuya’s stupidly handsome face and can ogle the way his back muscles flex without Kazuya giving him one of his infuriating, shit-eating smirks. He moves to sit at the edge of his bed with Kazuya between his legs and proceeds to turn on the dryer and wave it over Kazuya’s locks.
He’s not stupid. He knows that for as much as he missed Kazuya today, Kazuya missed him too. That’s why he came knocking at his door, ready to ask for this bit of casual intimacy. His mom’s words from earlier ring in his head. When you know, you know. He curses to himself because he knows! He does! He was trying not to think about it but there isn’t a future he wants where Kazuya isn’t by his side. If there’s one thing that hasn’t changed and never will, it’s how much he wants Kazuya.
He almost breaches the subject, the question on the tip of his tongue before he changes course at the last second. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” he suddenly asks.
Kazuya snorts over the hum of the buzzing of the hair dryer. “What is this? A job interview?” Eijun waves the dryer closer to Kazuya’s scalp in retaliation for his sarcasm. Kazuya yelps from the heat and dodges his head before Eijun resumes his slow motion of drying his hair. “Fine. I see myself doing nothing different than what I’m already doing right now. I’ll probably just be retired by then.”
Eijun bites the inside of his cheek. That wasn’t what he meant. He turns off the dryer and runs his finger through Kazuya’s hair to make sure it’s all dry, only putting the device away once he’s satisfied. “I mean, don’t you want to," Eijun ducks his head, "I don’t know, get married?”
Kazuya turns at this, leaning against Eijun’s thigh, and tries to meet his wandering eyes. He stares directly at Eijun and slowly answers with a serious voice, “Yes.”
“W-What else?” Eijun stutters out, suddenly nervous from the way Kazuya’s studying him. “What about kids? Or traveling?”
“I traveled to get here,” Kazuya says blandly.
“That’s not the same!”
“I see myself with you,” he tees off, getting up from the floor to stand next to his bed. He waves at Eijun, gesturing for him to make room on the bed. “Now scoot over, I wanna lay down.”
“Go lay in your own bed,” Eijun throws out, peeved at being written off. He flops back down on his bed, giving Kazuya his back.
“Eh?” Kazuya hums out, acting like he doesn’t know that he’s being annoying. “But it’s scary in that room. I swear I saw a ghost in there earlier.”
“Why would you say that?” Eijun shrieks, flipping back over to glare at Kazuya “You know I hate ghosts!”
Kazuya shrugs like it can’t be helped. “Guess I’ll have to sleep in here and protect you.”
Eijun grinds his teeth together and laments how Kazuya can never just ask for the things he wants. Instead, he’ll come up with elaborate schemes to cuddle Eijun without making it seem like it’s something he wants. As if Eijun doesn’t see right through him. As if Eijun would ever not give him something if he asked.
“You’re so helpless,” Eijun tsks but still reaches his hands out in an invitation and Kazuya flops down into his arms.
All of his irritation fades away once Kazuya’s body is lying half on top of his, flush together with Kazuya’s face tucked into his neck. He massages his fingers through Kazuya’s hair, still warm and fluffy from being blown dry, and down to the shorter hairs at the base of his neck. His hand travels across to the broad expanse of Kazuya’s back where he lightly scratches his nails against his skin. It’s light enough of a touch to not hurt but with enough pressure to not tickle in a way that Kazuya loves. A trail of goosebumps rises wherever Eijun’s hand goes and Kazuya shivers, snuggling even further into his hold. Together they lull themselves into a peaceful slumber.
The next morning, Eijun goes into Kazuya’s room to retrieve the pot from the forgotten futon and put it back in the kitchen.
*****
Eijun forgives Kazuya for abandoning him that day but it keeps happening. On random days for short periods of time, Kazuya keeps disappearing even as the weeks pass by. Sometimes he’ll wake up and Kazuya will be gone while other times, he’ll slip out while Eijun’s napping or occupied with one of his treatments or therapist appointments. When he can, he’ll let Eijun know beforehand that he’s stepping out, sometimes with his dad or Gramps in tow but he never fully explains what they plan to do.
He’s clearly hiding something and no matter how much Eijun presses him, that slimy bastard never gives him a straight answer. He trusts Kazuya to do what he needs to do and say what he needs to say at the right time, but Eijun’s never been one to have great patience. Because Eijun seems to be the only one out of the loop, with the rest of his family in on Kazuya’s plan, he’s itching to figure out what’s going on behind his back.
Kazuya’s birthday comes and goes, Eijun taking the opportunity to get back at him for all his teasing by inviting half the village to sing Happy Birthday to him. Kazuya tries to hide his red face but Eijun only sings the loudest, ignoring the threats Kazuya mouths at him. His cake is a coffee cake recipe that Eijun found online and made with his mom's help that Kazuya begrudgingly admits isn’t bad.
He loves his gifts though, the book Eijun bought him that he’d read beforehand to leave annotations in the margins for him. He’ll end up asking Eijun to read the book aloud to him anyway because for all he complains about Eijun being noisy, he likes listening to him talk. He also buys Kazuya a new sweater to wear for when they go out to dinners, one made of quality material that won’t make him whine about how itchy it is. Then there’s Eijun’s personal favorite, the pink kitchen apron he brought him with frills on the trim, plenty of lace, and flowers printed on the front.
The days continue to go by and like they once did before he retired, Eijun finds himself at a local gym where he can stay active and Kazuya continues training in preparation for the next baseball season. He’s not quite near where he once was in terms of fitness as a professional player but he’s come a long since the days of him lying in bed all day. Kazuya’s certain that they can one day play together again— be it on an NPB farm team or in the World Baseball Classic. Eijun can’t say he holds onto the same hope, but it gives him something to work towards. A goal to achieve and chase after. Even if they’re both 50 and it’s in some dirt parking lot, they’ll play on the same team again.
Currently, Eijun has bigger fish to fry than to worry about something so far off, like how he's going to make it through the end of this workout when Kazuya is a few feet away, bench pressing more than twice Eijun’s weight. It’s not a new phenomenon for Eijun’s mouth to go dry as watches his long-time crush throw around his body like it’s nothing but it is a dangerous one. More than once his mind has wandered off to some dirty fantasy where Kazuya throws Eijun over his shoulder and has his way with him.
What’s different now is that Kazuya catches him gawking and stares right back at him. Eijun quickly looks away before the heat rising up his neck can reach his face. What was he doing? Oh, yeah. Yoga. He should be working on his strength, balance, and flexibility. He looks down at his feet, pretending not to notice the slam of weights being re-racked as he searches his head for a pose, any pose, he can do to occupy himself with.
He puts his feet together on the middle of his mat and takes a deep breath, ready to make something up. He catches Kazuya sauntering over to him through the floor-to-ceiling mirror that extends across the entire back wall. He’s about to make a run for it to the safety of the locker room when a hand snakes around his hip and pulls him flush into a solid and well-sculpted chest.
“Can, Can I help you?” Eijun stutters out, too loud for how close they are.
“I should be the one asking that,” Kazuya says, his voice low like a hum vibrating directly into his ear. “If you stare any harder, I might start to get the wrong idea, you know…” His hands slip under the edge of Eijun’s shirt and ghost up to his waist in a feather-light touch that has him squirming.
Eijun’s shoulder hunch, trying to block the sound of Kazuya’s voice as he flushes from ear to ear. Over the years, the plethora of ways Kazuya teases him has evolved. To match him, Eijun has sharpened his tongue and gotten quicker with his comebacks to make sure their banter isn’t one-sided. When it comes to Kazuya's velvety-smooth voice, speaking low and seductive and only for him to hear, Eijun isn’t so sure he wants a defense against this— against Kazuya’s flirting.
Eijun's throat bobs as he swallows deep and slow in an effort to compose himself. “Any dirty ideas you get are entirely your own fault. Don’t blame me, you perv!”
Eijun watches through the mirror as Kazuya laughs, the slight shaking of his shoulders also jostling Eijun in his hold. His eyes, dark and suggestive, are focused on the side of Eijun’s face, trailing from his temple to his cheek and down to the soft curve of his neck. “Dirty? My thoughts are nothing but respectful and pure.”
The way he speaks, every word rolling off his tongue in a lazy purr as he keeps his eyes fixated on Eijun… it drives him utterly insane. Because Kazuya has a way of making Eijun feel needed, like when he asks for him to dry his hair or to pick out what outfit he's going to wear for the day but in moments like these, he also has a way of making Eijun feel wanted. Not because of anything they can do for each other but because Kazuya desires him just for being him.
He makes Eijun loathe the fact that he lives with his parents where they have no privacy.
“Yeah, pure filth…” Eijun mutters, looking off to the side. When he looks back, Kazuya’s eyes meet his through the mirror. “We’re here to work out, you know?”
Kazuya chuckles, his smile cocky in a way that bugs Eijun but makes him squirm at the same time. “I can think of plenty of ways for us to still accomplish that. How about starting with some cardio? Or maybe some partner stretching?” He winks at Eijun through the mirror.
Eijun can’t help but laugh at how effortlessly sleazy he can be. He playfully elbows him, Kazuya dropping his hold immediately and letting Eijun step away to put some much-needed distance between them. “You’re impossible!” he accuses, slapping his hands to his cheeks to hide the way his face heats up.
His mind still comes up with all sorts of images on its own, making him fidget in place. With how often their hands are casually on each other nowadays, it’s easy. He could lay back on his mat and ask Kazuya to help him stretch as he’s done hundreds of times before. Kazuya would lift Eijun’s leg up in the air, keeping him pinned down to the mat. His hands would slide down from Eijun’s ankle, the rough pads of his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as they got a little too close to his inner thigh where the edge of his shorts ride up. Or maybe Kazuya would drop all pretenses and settle himself between Eijun’s legs to lean over him, their faces getting closer and closer until the only thing Eijun can see, smell, touch is Kazuya and their bodies press together and Eijun can feel—
“Your face is awfully red right now,” Kazuya teases, immediately causing Eijun to snap back into focus.
Eijun gives him a sharp glare before huffing, “Shut up.”
Now that he’s been thoroughly distracted, he might as well end his workout. With Kazuya looking like his mind is somewhere else, mostly likely in a gutter, Eijun’s eager to escape before something insane, or stupid, happens in a public gym. He turns on his heel and runs back to the safety of the locker room with the speed of a bullet.
Once he’s alone, he drops down on the nearest bench and hides his face in his hands. Kazuya’s stupidly attractive smile flashes in his mind and he groans loudly.
“I’m too weak for this,” he admits to the empty room.
*****
“Hello?” the voice on the other line says, the call connecting after a few rings.
“Toku-san!” Eijun greets, perking up from where he’s sitting out on the veranda. The air has a bite to it now that it’s December but there’s no wind so Eijun’s content with just a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The sun’s already gone down but the crisp air keeps Eijun wide awake like a shot of espresso.
“Hello, Eijun-kun. How are you?” His voice is as calm and soft as it always is but Eijun swears he can hear the faint smile that’s almost always on his face. There was a time when Eijun thought the only thing Kazuya shared with his father was his looks, but it only took the elder Miyuki getting comfortable around him to learn that he is just as sarcastic, and caring, as his son.
“Fantastic!” Eijun answers easily and he finds that it’s the truth. He isn’t just saying that for the sake of it. “How are you?”
It’s the polite thing to ask back even for just small talk. There’s a bit of guilt behind it too in that Eijun used to always already know how Toku was doing. They used to see each other plenty but now it’s been over a year since they’ve seen each other in person. He could always take the trip to Tokyo to visit him but the truth is that he’s scared to leave home for too long. Traveling is more tedious on dialysis, certainly not impossible, but when his dialysis machine is an extension of himself, a literal organ that keeps him alive, he doesn’t want to be too far away from it for any length of time.
It hasn’t been long since he got up the courage to call Toku but thankfully their relationship has transitioned smoothly into this.
Toku chuckles. “I’m the same as always. What can I do for you? Is Kazuya in need of another scolding?”
“Now that you mention it…,” Eijun grumbles, ready to go off on a tangent, “he came all the way here to visit me and yet he keeps running off to who knows where! I think he’s spent more time with my dad than he has with me!” He huffs, a puff of white appearing as his warm breath meets the cool air.
Kazuya had run off again today while Eijun was at a doctor’s appointment. Of course, he’d told Eijun earlier and he’s probably already back by now, sequestered in the kitchen, but Eijun was still left alone. For two whole hours.
“So he’s neglecting you?”
“Exactly!”
“That’s unacceptable,” Toku agrees, playing along with Eijun’s feigned outrage. “I raised him better than that. I’ll be sure to say something to him.”
Eijun giggles, thinking about all the times Toku had told him that Kazuya was the best kid to raise, rarely got in trouble, and self-sufficient, even if a little bratty at times. Eijun had once asked Kazuya if he ever wished he had siblings. Even though Eijun doesn’t have any either, growing up with Wakana and by the time he was in elementary school, had a whole baseball team worth of close friends, he’s never found himself wanting for anything. Kazuya, ever the one to take care of others, had said he wouldn’t have minded having a younger brother or sister.
“Please do!” Eijun huffs, indignant. He never feels satisfied until he gets to complain about Kazuya, whether it’s directly to Kazuya, or in this case, to his father. “Oh! But that’s not why I called! I was calling to formally invite you to visit us in Nagano. My whole family and Kazuya would love to have you here for the holidays. Or whenever you’re free.”
“That’s kind of you. It’ll be nice to see you and Kazuya together again.”
“I think you’ll like it here!” Eijun adds quickly. He remembers what Kazuya had said about him being the one to ask Toku. “The entire town gets decorated in lights and it’s so much quieter and calmer than Tokyo.”
“I know. Kazuya already extended the invitation to me.”
“He has?” Kazuya knows more than anyone how reserved Toku is so he tends not to push things, but for Kazuya to bring it up himself must mean he really wants Toku to come. “Do you think you’ll come then? Please? Just for a little bit?”
“I’m working on finishing up all the year’s end work so as long as that goes smoothly, yes, I’ll be able to come visit.”
Eijun cheers. “I promise, this will be the best holiday you’ve ever had! Even Kazuya admits a village’s charm is like no other! Oh! Have you ever played shogi?”
“Not in years, why?”
“It’s a right of passage for everyone in the Sawamura household to get their butts kicked in shogi by my Gramps.”
“Did Kazuya get his butt kicked?”
“To the moon and back!” Eijun proudly says. “And by me too!”
“I’m sure he loved that.”
“He’s a sore loser,” Eijun laughs. “Hey, Toku-san, did Kazuya tell you what he got for his birthday?”
Now Toku laughs, something deep and hearty. “He did. Do you have a picture of him wearing the apron?”
“Of course! I’ll send it to you later!”
They talk for a little longer, Eijun happy to prattle on and on to Toku about everything in his life and his son’s. He makes sure to emphasize every time Kazuya's arrogant attitude got on his nerves, knowing that it’ll make its way back to Kazuya’s ears. His dramatic retellings are told with a flare that Kazuya doesn’t have and he knows Toku appreciates. He’s an even better listener than Kazuya is and he never makes a fuss when Eijun inevitably starts telling him a story that he’s already told before.
By the time he hangs up and heads back inside, Dad and Gramps are already snug under the kotatsu they’d brought out as soon as the weather turned while his mom works on dinner in the kitchen. Kazuya is with her, because where else would he be? And he’s got that ridiculous apron on which makes Eijun smile to himself and bite his lower lip. It clearly wasn’t made to fit someone of his stature with the frilly straps looking out of place over his brawny shoulders and tied around the width of his back.
They haven’t noticed Eijun lingering by the hall, leaning against the entryway as he watches them work in tandem. They’re both quick to yell at anyone who comes in and disturbs them so he knows that they must be immersed in whatever they’re doing that they haven’t said anything to him yet. Eijun also knows that he’s turned quiet today but it isn’t so unusual anymore for him.
There are good days and bad days but he also knows now that it’s more complicated than that type of black and white thinking. He’s changed and he knows that he’ll never be the same as he was before. There are days where he almost feels like he did before, where he’s full of energy without a care in the world, and for a moment he forgets about everything in his life that’s become dramatically different. Then a pang will hit him in the chest as remembers that things will never go back to how they were.
It’s a lot to simultaneously mourn his past self while also giving the ‘him’ of now the grace to exist. Even when it’s hard to recognize his own hands, he’s not some imposter or foreign creature inhabiting his body. He’s finding himself again as the fog begins to dissipate and he rebuilds the core of who he is.
He’s a person of passion. He feels things and he feels them strongly, which is probably what helped him fall into such a depressive state without the tools to guide him back out. Besides baseball, he’s passionate about his friends and family. He loves love, having fun, and laughing with the people who mean the most to him. His interest in reading and literature grew until he couldn’t imagine studying anything else while in college. He still has hobbies and dreams and things that he wants to experience with the one life he was given.
The more he looks at the things that matter most to him, the more he realizes that baseball will always be a part of who he is. Now it will just fit into his life differently.
Then there’s Kazuya, who exists in a category all his own. His presence in Eijun’s life has given him an anchor, holding him steady and keeping him from getting lost. So as he stands there, watching Kazuya expertly work with a kitchen knife and wondering how that simple act can be so enthralling, he knows that today is a good day. Even if he isn’t feeling as spirited and his laugh is less rowdy, good is still good even when what it looks like changes.
Happiness isn’t always big smiles and adrenaline running through his veins. One thing going wrong doesn’t ruin the entire day or negate his warm feelings up until that point. Sometimes being happy isn’t all sunshine and fireworks, sometimes it’s quiet and contemplative.
But there’s only so long Eijun can live in his head and the longer he stands there watching Kazuya, the more he starts to feel his heartache with the weight of his affection for him. It’s what propels him forward, the sudden overwhelming need to be held by Kazuya making him pad across the kitchen floor until he can wrap his arms around Kazuya’s middle and rest his head between his shoulder blades. The second he touches him, without Kazuya having to do a single thing, Eijun feels a small, satisfied smile begin to grace his face as he basks in the comfort Kazuya gives him.
Kazuya lets out a small huff of laughter but keeps chopping away on his cutting board, the sound of cucumbers cleanly being sliced through filling the air. “If you’re hungry, you’re gonna have to wait a little longer.”
Eijun hums and rubs his face into Kazuya’s back like a cat showing affection. “That’s not it,” he mumbles into Kazuya’s shirt, hoping that he’ll read his mind instead of making Eijun say anything more. Thankfully, he gets the hint when Eijun becomes more insistent with his headbutts.
“Oh,” Kazuya says with an annoying lilt to his voice but he finally gets the memo and puts the knife down. Eijun loosens his hold enough for Kazuya to turn around and slip his own arms around Eijun’s shoulders. His pitch stays high but he keeps his volume soft, aware of his mother a few feet away, when he adds, “So you just wanted to act cute.”
“… Yes,” Eijun admits, sulking into Kazuya’s chest. He can’t quite put his finger on what he wants right now, other than being close to Kazuya, but what he does know is that Kazuya is much more amenable when he clings to him. Even if his words don’t always match his actions, it’s those actions that reveal what he’s really thinking.
“How honest,” Kazuya teases yet pulls Eijun closer as if to prove his last thought. Like this, Eijun can hear his heartbeat, calm and steady as he warms Eijun up from his time sitting outside. “Can you survive without me for another few minutes while I finish up here?”
“No need!” Eijun cheers, giving Kazuya a squeeze tight enough to make him grunt before peeling off him like a strip of velcro. “I can help.” He tries to sidestep around Kazuya to see whatever dish he is prepping but Kazuya is quick to catch him.
“I don’t think so,” he says, stopping Eijun with a hand on either side of his waist. In one fluid motion, he spins them around and lifts Eijun up to sit him on the counter next to the cutting board. “The last thing we need is you slicing your finger open.”
“That was one time!” Eijun protests, gritting his teeth at the memory. There was only a little blood, nothing a bandaid couldn’t fix. It wouldn’t have happened in the first place if Kazuya hadn’t been breathing down his neck, making him nervous and rushing him. “Just let me help.”
To an outsider, it might seem like Kazuya is babying him but in reality, he’s just a control freak when it comes to cooking. He has such a particular way of wanting things done so he’d rather do everything himself than have Eijun help him. While cooking dinner together sounds like a fun idea to Eijun, to Kazuya it’s nothing more than an inconvenient bother.
“You can help,” Kazuya picks up a piece of the cucumber he’d been cutting up and places it against Eijun’s pouting lips, “by sitting still and looking pretty.” Eijun reluctantly opens his mouth, taking in the offered bite and making sure to chomp his teeth around it close to Kazuya’s fingers.
He chews it obnoxiously loud to get his displeasure across, lips smacking as he crunches on the piece of cucumber. It’s not a very good act he’s putting on when it crumbles the second Kazuya leans over to press his lips against the corner of Eijun’s eye. It makes him squint his eye closed and, careful of the knife now back in Kazuya’s hand, pulls him over for another hug.
He gets a little too comfortable that he almost misses the way his mom’s studying them. Over Kazuya’s shoulder, he watches as she taps a finger against her wrist as if to say time is wasting away.
*****
Eijun slows down his run until he’s at a walking pace and can check how he did on the fitness tracking watch that Kazuya got him for Christmas last year. He watches as his heart rate slowly goes back down as he walks the rest of the way home, his chest heaving and breath coming out in rushed, white puffs.
There’s old snow melting in the grass beside the dirt road but no matter how cold it is outside, it beats running on a noisy treadmill. There’s also some nostalgia he’s chasing when he does this. It’s like he’s in high school again, running around the fields early in the morning or the harsh winter training camps that still send shivers down his spine to this day.
He’s still catching his breath when he gets back inside, toeing off his sneakers in the entryway and taking off his layers of thermal clothes. He’s sweating underneath all those layers but his face and hands are still cold to the touch. Snickering to himself, he walks to the kitchen in search of an electrolyte drink as he imagines pressing his freezing fingers onto the back of Kazuya’s neck.
He stops in his tracks on the way when he hears voices coming from the living room, most likely his family snuggled under the kotatsu and where he plans to be once he’s bathed.
“If you allow it, I’d like to stay here with him. I know it’d be a burden the first few weeks but I’m sure my father would happily come help.”
It’s Kazuya’s voice, as clear as day, but Eijun has no idea what he’s talking about.
“We never, for a moment, thought that you’d want to be anywhere else. We’ll be able to take care of the both of you just fine,” Eijun’s mother says, making Eijun’s brows pinch together as he stares blankly at the wall.
He turns their words over in his head, trying to make sense of them. Why would Kazuya need permission for something he’s already doing? Why would he need to be taken care of?
For one terrifying moment he thinks that there might be something wrong with Kazuya too, as if just by being around him, his health would rub off on him, until Kazuya stops his train of thought.
“I think it’d be best if I took all of next season off, too. I don’t even want to worry about baseball right now.”
Not even realizing he’d stopped dead in the hallway, Eijun’s thrown into action again by those words.
“What are you talking about?” he demands as he rounds the corner into the room. Just as he thought, his family is all sitting around the table but what he’s focused on is Kazuya. He’s gone quiet and turned to see Eijun standing there, the brief flash of surprise on his face quickly settling back into his normal relaxed expression. But Eijun is anything but relaxed, not after what he’s just heard. “What do you mean you’re taking next season off?”
They stare at each other, Eijun demanding an answer and Kazuya’s mouth pinching tightly as his eyes flit over Eijun’s face.
“Eijun, come sit down,” his dad says easily, patting the spot next to him on the floor.
“No.” Eijun shakes his head and looks at each of their faces. There’s an air of seriousness about his family but also a buzzing energy like they’re anticipating something and hopeful about whatever it is. Kazuya’s expression, however, falls the more they look at each other. He can see the moment his eyes dull, looking the same as he does when the pitch he’s called for ends up being the wrong one. His judgment is off and he knows it.
“No,” he repeats and addresses Kazuya directly. “What aren’t you telling me?” Because whatever it is, Eijun is clearly the only one out of the loop. Kazuya’s been keeping something from him, he knew that already but he assumed it was about something trivial.
Wariness floods Kazuya’s eyes but he gathers up the stack of papers on the table that Eijun hasn’t bothered to notice and pushes them in his direction. “I, uh… I’ve been approved to be a kidney donor.”
Eijun stills.
The whole world stills.
Kazuya swallows. “Our blood types make us incompatible but a paired kidney exchange with another incompatible pair pretty much guarantees you a kidney.”
Eijun’s blood pounds in his ears. This is exactly what he was afraid of. “I don’t want it,” he blurts out, taking a step back and hoping the distance will stop the way his head begins to spin.
“Don’t be stupid, boy,” Gramps says. “You were waiting for this anyway.” But when Eijun turns to his family and they see his face, looking lost with tears beginning to glaze over his vision, everyone goes quiet.
“Not stupid,” Kazuya quickly says and stands up, eyes trained on Eijun.
“How long have you been planning this?” Eijun demands.
Kazuya swallows. “Eijun.”
“I never asked you to do this for me.” Something in his chest caves in on itself.
This is what he didn’t want. He didn’t want to disrupt Kazuya’s life, his baseball or to hold him back in any way. His life was supposed to remain untainted by Eijun, together but not intertwined. Eijun just wanted him close without getting too greedy. He was going to be fine, perfectly okay, with Kazuya visiting him in the offseason and then returning to his life in Tokyo every spring, repeating that cycle over and over, only ending once Kazuya wanted it to.
But now Kazuya is going off script and Eijun can’t keep up. He’s spent so much time in therapy, learning how to reframe and redirect his thoughts so that they have less of a negative impact on his mood and behaviors. It all feels like a waste now because even when he knows his mind is playing tricks on him, in these moments when his emotions are running their highest and he’s catastrophizing and jumping to conclusions, he doesn’t know what to do about it. He can’t stop. He barely feels like he can breathe.
“Hey, c’mon now,” Kazuya says softly, approaching Eijun until he can frame his face between his hands. He swipes away the few tears that have begun to drip from his eyes. “Don't cry. You're breaking my heart.”
Eijun shakes his head and Kazuya drops his hands, giving him the space to think. “This is what you’ve been doing every time you’d disappear. Going through the evaluation process behind my back. Why would you keep this from me?”
They all must’ve known. They all kept it from him. They knew yet no one– no one–
“Can we have a minute?” Kazuya asks his family, his mouth set in a hard line. “Please?”
The second they quietly file out of the room, casting worried glances over their shoulders, Kazuya steps up to him again, careful not to touch him this time.
“I shouldn't have kept this from you. I'm sorry.”
“Then why did you?” His voice rises and he takes a shaky breath, his lower lip trembling.
“I was waiting to see if it’d even be possible for me to donate,” Kazuya explains as his brows draw together. He wrings his hands in front of him like he wants to reach out but is holding himself back. Eijun is thankful for that because he knows if Kazuya does, he’ll fall into him and the floodgates will open but he can’t let that happen. He needs to be able to talk, to say what’s on his mind now before he forgets, before he ends up missing the chance to express what he wants to. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up if I couldn’t but it didn’t even cross my mind that you'd be so opposed to the idea.”
“Of course I would be opposed when you say you’re taking next season off!” Eijun shouts, emotion choking up his voice. Kazuya frowns but doesn’t say anything else as he turns to sit back down. With tension still hanging in the air, Eijun takes a moment to unclench his fists and try to slow his heartbeat. After a few moments and neither of them say anything more, Eijun asks, in a calmer voice, “Why are you doing this?”
Kazuya shrugs like it’s no big deal. “What? Like it’s hard?” If it’s meant to be a joke, Eijun isn’t amused in the slightest.
“Kazuya.” Eijun plops down at the table, sitting at a right angle to Kazuya where he can be close but not be forced to look at his face.
“It’s my kidney,” Kazuya stresses, occupying himself with gathering up all the papers on the table, “I can do whatever I want with it.”
From this close-up, Eijun gets a glimpse of what all the documents actually are– bloodwork results, medical histories, big files with CT scans, and other things that Eijun is familiar with but could never interpret himself. The evaluation process isn’t that new to him when his Mom, Dad, and Gramps all went through it before. He didn't love the idea of them donating to him either but with Kazuya, he just can’t accept it. It makes sense for family to volunteer like this but Kazuya is only his… his what, exactly?
“So you’re giving up on next season?”
“It’s only six to twelve weeks for a full recovery,” Kazuya reasons, sliding some papers back into their folders and tapping the edges against the table to even them out. “I’ll be ready to go in no time.”
Eijun frowns. “We both know that’s not what you said.”
“In all honesty, Eijun, I don’t give a shit about next season.” He drops the papers against the table with a thump and lets out a heavy sigh when Eijun’s back straightens at the terseness in his voice. It’s not often that Kazuya loses his composure enough to curse and actually mean it but he regains himself and turns to face Eijun. “There are more important things to worry about.”
“Yes, and I will worry about myself but you have a job to do. I have my family and I’ll be fine.”
Eijun thinks something like hurt flashes across Kazuya’s features. “Fine only extends so far when your kidneys are failing,” Kazuya pushes back, remaining firm. “You can put up a front for everyone else but I know you’re terrified.”
Eijun looks down at his hands clasped in his lap, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears. He doesn’t know what to say. Of course he’s still scared about how things may turn out but he’s doing better at not letting that fear consume him. What he is scared of is this: Kazuya making a mistake on his behalf and having it ruin everything between them.
“God, you are so stubborn about the weirdest things,” Kazuya says before the silence between them can stretch out for too long. “You had no problem with your family,” he bites out the word with resentment, “wanting to donate for you so why is it different with me? Do you think you’re gonna owe me something for this? That I’m going to hang this over your head? You think so little of me?”
“No!” Eijun denies. “But what if something goes wrong? What if I reject it? What if… what if— I mean, donor kidneys don’t even last forever. I’ll probably need another one anyway and then this will have been for nothing.”
Kazuya offers him a stiff smile and scoots until he’s closer to Eijun, sitting past the edge of the table until their knees almost touch. “In the chance that something goes wrong or that you do need another one years down the road, it will not have been for nothing. Anything that has the slightest possibility of improving your quality of life for any amount of time will be worth it. Always.”
"I still don't understand,” Eijun enunciates through a clenched jaw. “Why are you doing all of this for me? You still have more time so why does it have to be you?"
Unlike Eijun, Kazuya’s baseball career hasn’t been harshly cut short. Does he think that a kidney transplant would do wonders for him? Yes, but it doesn’t need to be Kazuya’s. He was fine with waiting. Even if Kazuya donated and everything were to go according to plan, he plays in the coming season or even the one after, there’s always a chance that Kazuya might not be cleared to play again. Baseball isn’t a contact-heavy sport like some others, but as a catcher, he’s taken his fair share of hits that could discourage him from continuing. Not to mention that any time off can jeopardize his spot on the team.
None of this makes any sense to him because baseball is what was most important to Eijun and they were always on the same page about that. It was their dream. For Kazuya to just change his mind without Eijun knowing, it’s like he’s being left behind again. This is what they’ve worked so hard for, so for Kazuya to give up a single second of it for him is unimaginable.
Kazuya shakes his head, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a genuine smile but Eijun can spot the tinge of sadness in his eyes. It’s like he can read Eijun’s mind when he catches Eijun’s wet eyes and tilts his head.
"Because baseball can live without me,” he states simply. “But I can’t live without you.”
Eijun’s breath hitches as he looks into Kazuya’s eyes which are unwaveringly fixated on him. Those familiar honey-brown eyes are paired with a tender smile in an expression that Eijun is sure he’s never seen on Kazuya’s face, at least not while he’s looking back at him. Over the years Kazuya has become more honest with his emotions, wearing that mask of a smirk on his face less and less often but even then he’s never looked at Eijun with such raw, unfiltered adoration. From this up-close, he can read every bit of vulnerability Kazuya is showing him, starting from the sickly-sweet lovestruck warmth in those eyes.
"I-I don't… you still don't—," Eijun stutters out, struggling to say out loud the words swirling in his head when they don't compare to the words Kazuya is speaking from his heart.
Kazuya takes pity on him and finally gives in to his need to touch him, reaching over the table to take Eijun’s hands in his. A light, airy laugh escapes his lips and with all the ease in the world, he says, "I love you, Eijun. More than baseball or my job or anything else. You are the most important thing in the world to me. So I will do anything and everything within my power to keep you alive and safe and happy.”
Eijun sobs out the breath he is holding, clenching his eyes shut as tears fall down his face and onto his lap. Through the whirlwind of emotions wreaking havoc in his heart, he squeezes Kazuya’s hands to ground him. He knew already, of course he knew, deep down how Kazuya felt about him. He’s never said it out loud until now and let Eijun stay in blissful ignorance where things weren’t as complicated and neither of them had to hurt more than they needed to.
As he calms himself down with a few shaky exhales, he blinks away the tears until Kazuya is more than a blurry silhouette in front of him.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Kazuya lightheartedly admonishes at the pout on Eijun’s lips. He lets go of one of Eijun’s hands so he can run his fingers through Eijun’s hair, following a path from his temple, around his ear, and down to his neck. “It’s actually quite selfish. The happier you are and the longer you live, the happier I am.”
“It’s not fair,” Eijun grouses in between sniffles.
Kazuya hums. “How so?”
“I’ve never done anything for you.”
Kazuya’s brows raise in disbelief. “That’s not–” He cuts him off with a shake of his head. “Our relationship isn’t transactional, Eijun. I’m not donating my kidney for you to get something in return. I do not love you with the expectation of receiving. Besides, there’s nothing I could ask for that you haven’t already given.”
Eijun's heart clenches at the admission that Kazuya would say he’s fine even if their relationship never changes from what it currently is. Never progresses forward. He wonders if Kazuya knows that it’s already too late for him.
“What if you regret it?” Eijun keeps pressing, unable to let go of any of his anxieties about this. “What if one day you hate me?”
“Then my love for you will be stronger than my hate.” How can he have an answer for everything right on the tip of his tongue?
“You can’t know that,” Eijun says because there’s no way he can. How he’ll feel in the future isn’t a certainty. He thinks of it in the same way he thinks about reviewing data against a future opponent. He can come up with a pitching sequence, a theoretical pattern of pitches he might throw based on available data on a batter but what he’ll actually throw in the game depends on his condition, where they are in the count, and so many other factors. Kazuya can say he’ll love Eijun forever and ever but how he’ll really feel about him even a week from now is dependent on too many ever-changing variables.
“Of course I can,” Kazuya counters, “because it’s a choice.” He keeps sliding his hand through Eijun’s hair, the repetitive motion of his fingers scratching at his scalp comfortingly, making Eijun relax despite the slight irritation he has at Kazuya continuously contradicting him. “One that I’ve already been making every second of every day for the last seventeen years.”
Kazuya closes the small distance between them, scooting around the table to gather Eijun into his arms. Eijun is nothing but a victim to the way his heart swells in his chest, threatening to break free from the confines of his ribcage and making it hard to breathe. Before he knows it, he’s climbing onto Kazuya’s lap and winding his arms around his neck. The tension slowly seeps from his body as he rests his head in the crook of Kazuya’s neck and snuggles into him.
“Look, Eijun,” Kazuya tries one more time, whispering the words into the crown of his head. “You have the final say in this. You can say no but I’m asking you to at least take the time to think about it. I’ve had plenty of time to talk to the doctors and go through all these evaluations. I’m 100% sure of my answer. I want you to feel that way too, okay?”
He doesn’t want to think, he doesn’t want anything to change but he knows he can’t hide away here, wrapped up in Kazuya’s arms, forever. “Okay,” Eijun says against Kazuya’s neck. “I can do that.”
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