#ace of the diamond oneshot
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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons
Characters: Everyone :)
Part(s): Heartslabyul (here!), Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case.
Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe
Riddle Rosehearts
Very traditional, but this is expected. He asks your closest of kin (a cat, to his horror) for permission to propose. Regardless of Grimm's answer, there is already a ring that's been purchased. This is merely formality
He comes up with an elaborate plan to execute the 'perfect' proposal. Riddle maps it all out and runs multiple drafts by his childhood friends. Everything must go perfectly - or else you might not accept. Is it likely that not presenting you with exactly 12 red roses with the spikes trimmed and arranged with 6 sprigs of baby's breath will be the reason you decline? Likely not. Will he chance it though? No.
Despite all his planning, he is a nervous wreak. Our red prince is great at masking it though. He plans an entire evening down to the last detail. You both go to a upscale restaurant that serves your favorite cuisine under the pretense that you're celebrating an amazing jab offer Riddle received the day prior. There's dinner, dancing, a romantic atmosphere, and delightful conversation (he prepared conversation topics in advance in case he felt nervous).
Oh look, there just so happens to be an outdoor garden to take an evening stroll through. Would you like to go?
Of course you would, and he asks you to wait outside as he visits the restroom. After you pass through the back door, a nearby waiter slips him the bouquet of twelve roses that he dropped off in the morning. He counts them, checks the stems, the ribbon holding them together, and with a relieved sigh he reaches into his pocket.
Riddle nestles the engagement ring within the core of the center rose, and for a moment his anxiety quells. He looks through the outside door's windowpane, and sees you patiently waiting for him while admiring the garden lights. The anxiety returns, but he's ready. With a knuckle-white grip on the flowers, he passes through the doors.
"Hello...I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I had a matter of great importance to attend to - wha? No! Not that- ugh. I wasn't in the restroom! Only you would make such a childish remark on such an important day...No, do not apologize. I was not referring to my career. Perhaps these flowers will provide some clarity. I hope they are to you liking,"
When you notice the ring, he gently takes it and gets down on one knee. Riddles heart rattles against his ribcage, and his the mask of calm falters. He holds out the ring with one hand, and the other lightly trembles as it reaches for yours.
"Would you do me the honor of becoming my spouse? I promise that you will be cared for dearly, and that I will work tirelessly to become a husband that you will be proud of,"
{Riddle's ring is a mix of new and old. Tradition dictates a diamond for a wedding ring, but he knows better. Riddle wants you to think of him every time you see this ring, so he chooses to stray. Three rubies sit nested in diamonds. The color of his hair, which you love to poke fun of so much. It represents how he is willing to consistently change while still holding on to his core values, all so he can become a husband worthy of you}
Trey Clover
A simple man, and therefore takes a simple approach. The depth of his proposal lies in the timing. He does not know when he will be ready to commit, or how to tell if you are ready to as well.
Trey puts proposing off for the longest time. He acts in baby steps. The idea toys with him for months, until one day he convinces himself that he is ready. After that he slowly begins to look at rings, and think of ideas. He wants to be original, but would that overwhelm you? He would sooner die than do something tacky like a public proposal at a concert or event...but is that something you might want?
If there is one thing Trey is certain about, its that rejection would break him. He knows that your relationship would never be the same if he proposed too early, or if he managed to royally screw it up. He's not a fan of attention. This is awful. Oh Great Sevens it's a pressure that he never dreamed of having to undergo.
But if he doesn't propose...would you? Are you waiting for him? what if you're thought process is the same as his?
Completely out of character for Trey, he ends up proposing on impulse. He woke up one morning and saw the ring tucked away in his sock drawer. For the millionth time he had to face the "I should just do it," thoughts and decided to act on them
The day is new, neither of you had work, and a quick glance over his shoulder proves that you would be soundly sleeping for at least the next hour. So what's he do? Trey puts on his nicest casual clothes. Nothing formal, but also nothing that is sloppy. Then he marches downstairs and starts to make breakfast. He decides to prepare tarts, a reminiscence of your days as students and where you first met. As he arranges them on a platter, he places the ring inside one made with your favorite flavor. It peaks out just enough for anyone to notice, and with a huff Trey steps back to admire his work.
His hands are slightly clammy, and quickly moves to busy himself in fear he might chicken out. It helps for a time, until he hears your footsteps approach the kitchen, followed by a sleepy 'good morning' and arms wrapping around his torso
He steels himself, and turns over in your arms to kiss the top of your head. With a nervous laugh, Trey gestures to the platter of fruit tarts and smiles at how the sight of food causes you to perk up. Like clockwork, you reach for your favorite flavor and quickly notice the metal chunk inside
He reigns in panic as you dig the ring out and eye it with a quirked brow. A moment of silence passes before it clicks, and you whip to gawk at him with the largest bugeyes he has ever seen. Wordlessly, Trey takes the ring, wipes off any crumbs with his shirt, and takes your hands in his
"I'm sorry to spring this on you so early in the morning. It must be quite the wakeup call, huh? Haha...The truth is, I have wanted to give this to you for such a long time. I simply did not know how. I had a burst of courage this morning, and am honestly running on pure adrenaline. I love you...I want to spend our lives together. Will you marry me?"
{Trey's ring is a single pearl on a gold band. He feels that the ring should reflect it's wearer, and you are one of the most naturally beautiful people he has ever seen. There is beauty in simplicity - in seeing things as they are with no modifications. You do that for him, and he loves how your relationship is authentic}
Cater Diamond
Marriage? Huh. See, in the past that was a no-go. Very constricting and he didn't enjoy the idea of getting linked to someone in that regard. An s/o with no legal binding? Sure. It's just a title anyways, right? That kind of thing shouldn't matter in the long run.
Except it did end up being relevant, and now Cater wants to beat himself up because he explicitly told you once things were getting serious that he wasn't interested in marriage. You were fine with doing either and left the decision up to him. Very nice of you to be so nonchalant , and now he knows that marriage isn't 'off the table'. There is a chance.
A chance that requires him to both propose and take back his initial stance. Which is kind of humiliating. The take back part, not the proposal. Cater is confident that he can blow you away. He doesn't need shoddy internet advice, or to to do extensive research to be perfect. Nope. It's all in his noggin. He knows you like the back of his hand and therefore can concoct a speech to woo you easily.
So what comes first, the chicken or the egg? Does he try to casually tip you of that he's interested in getting married before trying to propose? No. That would be incredibly dull and ruin the element of surprise. Cater always hated those crappy half-baked romance films where the loser male lead is all 'oh honey I promise I will propose. Just give me time,' because hello???? You spoiled it??? Also don't make promises that you don't plan to keep, douchebag. How dull.
He decides that it's all or nothing. Cater spends an entire night online shopping for a ring. He already knows all of your sizes...don't ask how or why. Anyway, ordering is a cinche. Just ignore his eyebags the next day and his snappy attitude. He can't even whine about how tired he is because that would mean he has to say why he didn't sleep and -EUGH. He is torn between his two loves. Complaining for attention, and wooing you for attention. It's rough.
It comes in the mail, and after checking the package he decides to seal it back up again. It looks untouched thanks to his skills. Then, he sets up the living room to look like he is filming a video for his magicam. Specifically an unboxing video, and makes sure to let you know that it's from one of your favorite companies.
You take the bait, and he asks you to join him. Even if your camera shy, he insists that for just this one video you hop on. He might be a bit tricky and give you ideas about the product in the box (making sure to align them with a hobby or fandom that you're into). He sets the camera to record, plops down casually at your side, and hands you the box cutter. Go crazy.
Cater can't help but giggle when you open the box - just to pull out another small box. You eye it cautiously, now suspicious that this might be a prank. He urges you to open the box, and you do so while holding it at arms-length away from your face.
The ring's gem sparkles in the camera light, and he watches amused as you pull it closer. With a shaky hand, you take it out of the box and inspect it. With the way you side-eye him, Cater can tell that you're wondering if this situation is a cruel prank...
"Tada~~ You like? -- WAIT! Before you get upset just let me explain! There is no video. That was a lie, and I'm sorry for it. I surprised you good though, right?...ahem, uhm. I'm not pranking you. If you feel the same, then I want for us to get married! I know what I said before, and I take it back. The time we have spent together made me realize that I only felt that way - well, because I was unable to imagine liking someone enough to share my life. So...do you want to marry me?"
{A diamond for a diamond. Diamonds are reflective. They glitter, and are clear. They are also viewed as the best choice for a ring, but in actuality they have are not. They're only considered perfect because of marketing. In actuality, they're quite the opposite. This same reasoning applies to Cater - and you understand. Yet, you still love him. The diamond represents himself, and the heart shape is to remind you how much you mean to him}
Deuce Spade
He may be young, but he is not stupid...alright. Deuce is not always stupid. Sometimes? Yes. He makes poor decisions and lets his emotions get the better of him.
This? Not a poor decision, and he will never EVER think twice about it. From the moment the idea entered Deuce's head, it was decided. HE would become your husband. Nothing would stop him.
It began during his final year at Night Raven College. Graduation approached, and everyone was excited. Everyone, except for one person. You. He didn't notice it at first, being too hung up over how he actually managed to do well in school. Get this, he even became Heartslabyul Drumhead after Riddle graduated! What an honor! His mother was proud of him, and he was proud of himself! He had career aspirations, plans to get a home back home, and even a lovely s/o to flaunt. Life was great.
What...do you mean? That you're not going back with him? The Queendom of Roses is such a beautiful place! He's certain that you'll love it and can become adjusted. Why do you want to stay at this academy? Was three years not enough?
Deuce has never gotten mad at you before. A little miffed, sure, but never frustrated. He didn't like it. Not these feelings, or how he failed to notice that you planned this from the start. He was so wrapped up in his own happiness, that he failed to see that you felt troubled over his assumptions. It stung. In a moment of weakness, he left you alone, scared that he might raise his voice at you.
He needed to think. Alone. Thankfully he moved past sharing a room with Ace when Deuce became Housewarden. His phone rang many times. Some calls from you, Ace, his mother...for once, Deuce didn't think her advice could help him. Not when he was so confused.
He thought over his dreams for after college. They were the same that he had since prior to enrolling. Nothing changed...except for you and the other unexpected friends he made along the way. It began to settle within him that the unpredicted parts were more important to him than what he initially planned. The image of him as a successful worker, on his own, and being successful were all hollow if they didn't include you. Deuce wasn't upset that you planned to stay at NRC, he was upset that you didn't plan to stay with him.
Or did you? He interpreted it as such in the moment, but he's not so sure. All Deuce knows is that you're his best friend and the love of his life. If you stay here without him, will that change? He doesn't want to find out.
The next day, he's determined. It's impulsive, this he knows. Yet it's what feels right in his heart and Deuce has always trusted his gut instinct. This choice is entirely on him. No one's advice to excuse it if you don't reciprocate, and yet he isn't afraid. He might not have a ring, or fancy offerings. All he has is his love to offer, and a willingness to work around any obstacle. The hurt from the night prior sill aches in his chest, but he has done difficult things before. The pain merely serves as a reminder for how he hurt you, and what his future might be like if he doesn't act.
He finds you before breakfast. When the first rays of sunshine peak over the horizon and the air is still moist with morning dew. You lingered in the hall of mirrors, specifically near the portal to Heartslabyul Hall. Your presence startled him, and he nearly headbutt you from the speed he was going through the portal. Were you...planning to visit him? His heart shuddered in a mix of guilt and happiness. Even after the way he behaved, you still cared.
Upon closer inspection, you appear just as disheveled as him. He must have caused you a great deal of worry...damn it. He can't even be mad at himself. Not with things as they are.
Before you have a chance to speak, he hushes you. Deuce's jaw sets in determination and he reaches into his uniform pocket. He pulls out a paper ring. One that children often give each other on the playground when playing family. He then gets down on one knee, and holds it out with both hands.
"I am sorry. I never intended to hurt you, or push my ambitions on to you. I simply love you more than anything else, and was afraid that you did not want to be together anymore. I was afraid...that being apart would take away what we have. I realize that I was wrong. I didn't see it happening, but being with you has caused me to develop dreams beyond what I initially planned. Nothing I imagine feels right, unless you are in the picture. I don't have a proper ring prepared just yet...but will you marry me? I promise that no matter where we are - for better or worse, I will make you happy. I swear it!
{Your initial ring is made out of his most recent homework assignment. It's frail, and one drop of water will break it. However, he meticulously folded it and it is the byproduct of many imperfect prototypes. The paper ring truly represents who Deuce is. It's rushed, fragile, and full of love}
{He chooses a vintage ring. With both of your initials engraved on the center, he hopes that this ring attests to a promise no matter where you both are. It's rose-gold, not as bright as pure gold but still beautiful. The mixed color represents the different worlds you both come from, as well as your melded life}
Ace Trappolla
Ace tends to get comfortable, and when that happens it is difficult to ignite change. However, he is also headstrong. More than many give him credit for. So once the problem is identified, it's only a matter of time until he does something about it. What he does isn't necessarily always the best solution, sure; however, when threatened he will indeed act.
Initially Ace did not plan to find love. For a long time, he rejected it and passed his feelings off as a small crush. You're attractive, he's a man, a lil of this and a lil of that - who wouldn't feel a little heart throb once in a while? It only became an issue when you became one of his best friends. It felt like he was betraying you with these thoughts. They became a problem.
His first solution was to repress them further. Like stated, he noticed a problem and so he acted. Was this the best choice? No. It ended in a dumpster-fire. Any time another student even remotely expressed interest in you, Ace felt threatened. He couldn't spend time at your side without indecent thoughts popping up. Not like 'that' (geez, get your mind out of the gutter people), but more so domestic. Ick. What was happening?!
He couldn't hold it in, and his confession will forever be known as a feels-dump that started with you sharing half of your grilled-cheese with him because he missed lunch.
Yeah. Humiliating. Ugh.
Now you're his partner, of a long time. A very, very, very long time. Years post graduation. You both have settled into life together, so why tack a title? It's not like those mean anything, right? Everything was perfect as is, and weddings are expensive. You never brought it up either, so why worry?
Well, those titles do mean things in the eyes of the law. Ace never thought to get documentation about emergency contacts and whatnot updated. So when hit his head and got a concussion when jogging? The hospital wouldn't let you in. Not until he woke up, which was the longest four hours of your life.
You didn't express how much it bothered you, but words weren't necessary. The muted panic that you tried to hold back was enough. He expected you to enter his room angry, but instead all he got was defeat. That sight alone hurt worse than the leg.
The event got Ace thinking about things he hadn't in a long time - like marriage. He got too comfortable after letting the thought go once. To him, you were already irreplicable. Years do that, and he's certain that you feel the same way about him. If his young self could see him now...pah, he was such a turd. All 'I don't need anyone,' and empty words to play tough-guy. Little did he know that the person he would need the most in life was only a dimension-hop away haha.
It's that simple, really. No panic or nervousness. Ace decided definitively that he was going to marry you, and it only took years of being an airhead to figure it out.
He spends the night in the hospital for surveillance, and the staff is kind enough to prove you with a cot to sleep on. He stubbornly drags it next to his bed, and once you're sleeping soundly he 3slips a bandage over your ring finger to take the measurement
He planned to go buy the ring instantly after being discharged, but you wouldn't leave his side. Nagging about bed-rest and taking it easy...ugh! He needs to do this thing! No, he can't tell you about it. It's a secret!.....ugh, fine. One more day. Just because he loves the attention.
The next morning after, he's excitedly going to the nearest jewelers. He doesn't have a particular ring in mind, but he's done some research! It's the idea behind the ring that's important anyways....alright. Maybe he'll call up Cater.
Ace does nothing extravagant. He sticks to comfort. You, him, both eating dinner while watching a movie on the TV that evening. He quickly scarfs down his meal within the first 10 minutes and runs to your shared room after ditching his dishes. Stashed in his wallet, he pulls put the ring and hides it in his palm.
Ace tries to be smooth. He dims the living room lights, and sits down closer to you than before. He moves to take your hand with the one holding the ring, and sneak it on to your finger.
It fails, obviously. Who wouldn't notice someone trying to shove a piece of metal on their finger? You pull away on instinct, and the ring falls between the couch cushions. He freaks out for a moment and sifts through them as you continue to eat between giggles. Only when he holds the ring up in triumph do you quiet down.
"Not so funny now, is it? - Nah, just kidding. It was pretty funny....although I wanted this to be a bit more romantic. Eh. It's fine. From the look on your face, I'm guessing that you know what this is?...Uhh. Yeah. I thought it was a good time, y'know? We've been together so long that I already do think of you as my partner. I think you feel the same? Feel free to jump in if not....but, yeah. I love you. A lot. I'd really like to make it official, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get the guts to ask. Will you marry me?"
{Tradition is for chumps. Ace wanted to get something fun and eye-catching. Many suggested otherwise, but this felt right. Your relationship has never been conventional and never will be. Hell, screw 'conventional,' because it's perfect as it is and so is this ring. He knows that this ring will draw your attention, and that's all he cares about}
End Note: None of the ring pictures are mine. I pulled them off of google images because - well, I had ideas and tried to find rings to match them. I write fanfic, not weld jewelry.
#twst#twisted wonderland imagines#tw#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland scenarios#twst imagines#series#proposal series#riiddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#trey clover#trey clover x reader#cater diamond#caterdiamond x reader#deuce space#deuce spade x reader#ace trappola#ace trappola x reader#dear what have i gotten myself into#this is like over 20 oneshots hot damn for the whole series#buckle up guys next part will be here in abit
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V2
Ace: What? Your all i ever wanted....You're beautiful
Yuu: Thank you but what else?
Ace:What else?
Yuu: Is beauty all that matters?
Deuce & Carter: *rapidly motioning no in every possible way*
Riddle: Ace, what else?
Ace: What else is there?
.........................................................................................
Deuce & Carter: What else is there!?!?
Catrer: They say "Is beauty all that matters to you?"!
Deuce: and you say "What else is there?"!
#twst scenarios#disney twst#twst heartslabyul#twst incorrect quotes#riddle rosehearts#twisted wonderland riddle#twst oneshot#twst x reader#twst cater#twst ace#twst deuce#ace trappola#ace trappapola#twisted wonderland deuce#deuce spade#Carter Diamond#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland
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celebrating your birthday with the twst boys hcs
part 1, ft. heartslabyul and savanaclaw x reader (separate)
read part 2 here
read part 3 here
read part 4 here
author's note: I wrote these both to celebrate my own birthday today, as well as to celebrate the Birthday Greeting feature added to TWST EN yesterday!
general tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, hcs for both prefect and non-prefect reader, platonic and romantic hcs, food mentions, runs on the assumption that reader wants to celebrate their birthday, not beta read
total wc: 5.8k+ words (500-900 words each character)
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
His initial reaction depends on how long it took you to inform him about your birthday. If you tell him at least a week in advance, he’ll thank you not only for extending an invitation, but for giving him a warning—it would have been troublesome if an Unbirthday Party were to be held on the day of your birth.
If you tell him about your birthday late (or worse, inviting him to celebrate the day of it), Riddle’s face reddens on the spot, aghast and momentarily speechless, before diving into a series of complaints.
On the surface, it might seem like he’s scolding you for neglecting to inform him about your birthday in advance. The dorm’s already made preparations for the Unbirthday Party! They’re going to have to scrap all of those!
Inwardly, however, Riddle is incredibly troubled. You’re someone dear to him, so shouldn’t he have known such a special day was coming? Have you told him before? Impossible, there was no way such vital knowledge would have slipped his mind…
If he’s your friend or dorm leader, he feels terrible, and even worse if he’s your best friend or significant other.
Still, Riddle knows that he should make up for it the best he can. If there’s really no time, the gift can come later—what was important was the celebration itself.
(If you’re the Ramshackle prefect, or someone who happens to be close with Ace and/or Deuce, expect Riddle to tell them off for not telling him to halt the Unbirthday Party preparations. They should have known better!)
It also doesn’t matter whether you’re a Heartslabyul student or not—birthdays should be celebrated as that—birthdays.
If you’re a Heartslabyul student, best know Riddle is making extra sure that everything is perfect. The Rules of the Queen of Hearts state that you can eat whatever you like on your birthday, so request anything you want…
But, did the Queen say you could drink whatever you want? Would coffee still be banned? Would tea not be allowed due to that one stipulation? There’s the rule about parties and formal attire, too... Riddle thinks of all of this, seemingly stressing about your birthday more than you.
(Well, if you ask just politely enough, maybe bat your eyes for good measure, he will make an exception regardless. He’ll have the menu, the dress code, and even rose colors adjusted to your liking)
If you’re the Ramshackle Prefect, he gives you the option to celebrate your birthday in the Heartslabyul Dorm. You already spend so much time with them anyway, always a guest at their parties, always in the lounge hanging out with Ace and Deuce, so isn’t it natural to just spend your birthday with them? You can even invite your friends from other dorms if you wish to do so!
If you choose to hold it in Ramshackle, or even another dorm, well, he’ll be a tad disappointed if he’s someone close to you, but he doesn’t throw a fit over it. He can just show his appreciation for you some other way—through a gift that he certainly, most definitely did not overthink about before purchasing, or perhaps something he can do for you, like creating study guides for you or taking you for a horse ride (Vorpal, his preferred horse, would like you… he thinks).
Most importantly, he’ll be there and present for your party for as long as he can afford to be.
If you’re a Heartslabyul student, he’ll even choose to simply look away from any rule offending this one day!
If you’re his partner, he dotes on you especially so, knowing the importance of spending time with your significant other during these types of occasions. He might even ask if he can celebrate with dinner later tonight, just the two of you. He takes the chance to show how seriously he takes your relationship, and that he doesn’t see you as just a school romance thing.
Basically, expect Riddle to pay extra attention to you on your birthday—all good, of course. If there’s anything crooked in your uniform he’ll still point it out, but he’s a whole lot gentler with you. A wonderful guest.
ACE TRAPPOLA
The type to pretend he knew all along, but inwardly he’s that one meme/audio clip going “BITCH WHAT THE FUCK”. Especially if you only tell him in passing once some months ago, where he doesn’t have the capacity to put it in his calendar or notes app or something, or if you choose to surprise him on the day of (or close to the day of) your birthday.
If you have the decency to tell him in advance, he’s eagerly talking about all sorts of things you can do for your party—the different food you can serve, the drinks, the music, the party games. Ace can appreciate a good party, and there’s no way he’s letting you host one just for it to flop! Let Ace help you deal with it! Whether it be platonically or romantically, ain’t he your guy?
Hey, if you need some quick entertainment, just let him get his pack of cards and he’ll go do it! Hell, he’ll even practice some of the more difficult card tricks just to amuse you.
Ace is quite good at filling your head with all these thoughts about planning, and he’s just being so helpful without you even having to ask, that you might fail to notice the planning he’s doing behind your back. Real mischievous, he is. He’s very insistent on giving you a proper surprise, especially if you’re the Ramshackle Prefect and/or his significant other.
(And most especially if you’re the Ramshackle Prefect. With all the shit you have to put up with? You deserve it, honestly. Sure, he teases and insults you a healthy amount, but he’s just as easily a prime witness at everything you’ve been through)
If you’re the observant type, you might notice the strings he’s trying to pull—especially if he’s chosen to coordinate with Deuce and the other first years. You can leave it be, but if you call him out on it expect him to not go down without a fight. Ace is terribly good at deception and lying on the spot, so you might find yourself convinced that no, he’s totally not doing anything that special for you. Does he look like the type?
He really is, deep down, but he’d prefer to just show it and not talk about it.
However, if you tell him late, it’s far easier to see through the cracks of the façade he’s putting up to hide his shock and, quite honestly, panic. It’s difficult trying to stay cheerful when he’s quickly thinking about all the things he needs to do to prepare, and—in the Queen’s name, if he doesn’t know, then he’s betting on his life that none of the first years know too!
If you’re the Ramshackle prefect, he’s shaking Grim for not telling him anything!
You could probably catch him in Mr. S’s Mystery Shop buying party goods and presents, with him doing the haggling, dragging Deuce and Jack to do the lifting.
He’s also starting a competition over who gets you the best present. If you’re his partner, everyone rolls their eyes because isn’t it obvious? But if he’s one of your best friends along with the rest of the first years, the competitiveness does get to them. Ace has his ways. Deuce might be the number one sucker, followed by Sebek.
If you’re a Heartslabyul student like him, he contemplates when to tell Riddle about your birthday. He’s not that much of an ass to have a whole Unbirthday Party prepared the day of your special day, but he still wants a chance to poke fun at Riddle. Just a bit.
The day of, he’s definitely giving you at least one prank. He knows you well enough to know which ones you’d actually find funny, and up to what extent you can take.
Gives you a joke gift in front of everyone, and then his actual gift in private.
If you’re his significant other, Ace probably has his moment of reflection—after he told himself he’d swear off of any serious romance until a little later in life, here he was, not only in a relationship but actively making the effort to make your day the best it could be. If the mood is right, maybe he’ll tell you about it once the both of you are alone.
Maybe. You’re going to have to work hard to get it out of him, to get him to talk for just long enough without him succumbing into embarrassment. Having the tables turn when it comes to teasing is still an experience he’s unused to.
Overall, you can count on someone like Ace to give you a fun birthday. With how much time he’s spent with you, he not only has enough verbal confirmation, but lots of information regarding the things you liked and didn’t due to his observant nature.
DEUCE SPADE
This boy… regardless of whether you tell him about your birthday in advance or too close to the date itself, he has rather… dramatic and explosive reactions. Panic being the most prevalent.
If you have a heart, please tell him early; give him the time to prepare. He would still be able to work under pressure since it has to do with you, but on the day itself he wants to be focused on you and not if everything is going well and if he’s a good enough (boy)friend.
Deuce is well-meaning, so it’s very plain to see how he not only wants to give you a nice present, but how he even wants to help you in planning and setting up your celebration, regardless of where it’ll be held. He can be a bit disorganized, but with some help from you (and possibly the other first years), his dedication and hard work when it comes to making you happy really shines.
Deuce messages his mom constantly when it comes to your birthday, regardless of whether you’re BFFs or partners. Everyone thinks it’s cute, though Ace does tease him once or twice about it.
(Sebek, who admires his own mother, finds nothing funny about it. He gives a serious nod of approval)
You’re someone important to him, someone helping him on his journey to become a model student, so obviously he wants to make sure everything’s right! Because of his delinquent days, the whole preparing for birthdays thing is still new to him.
If Deuce either has a crush on you or the two of you are already together, Deuce is definitely on the receiving end of lighthearted teasing from his mother. It’s very well-intentioned, with lots of genuinely good suggestions thrown in, but he really can’t help but blush.
Anyone who can see him talking on the phone probably knows the conversation is about you due to his reaction. His Heartslabyul seniors find it quite endearing, offering their own advice as well.
(And, well, the seniors are the ones who inform either Trey or Riddle about an upcoming birthday, of which Riddle cancels not just an Unbirthday Party, but any other occasion happening that day)
Money isn’t really an abundance for him so his gift options are a little limited, but he does use up a decent portion of his allowance getting you something nice.
If he doesn’t have the time to get you anything outside, he’ll buy you something from the cafeteria. However, the closer you are to him, the more likely he’ll get you something that you can keep as opposed to something consumable. He might also have a matching one, tucked somewhere in his room.
Deuce likes to think about the future, and he does think about how, when he gets a job and has more money to spend, he’ll go gift you the things he saw through the shop windows, things out of his budget but he figures you would like.
If you like eggs, he can always make you breakfast! The two of you could even eat it together… if you want.
If you’re a fellow Heartslabyul student, or if you just decide to celebrate your birthday with them, he’s the one trying to serve you—he pours you your drink, makes sure you get the first choice of flamingo, anything to make your life more convenient. He’ll stop if you tell him to not treat you too specially, but you know he means well.
If you’re his partner, he’s like Riddle in the sense that he takes the occasion as an opportunity to prove how serious he is about you. It’s most obvious through his time and his effort, and he swears he’ll always find ways to be around you, but even more lovely is how he actually tries to voice it out.
It’s so obvious he’s embarrassed. He’s unsure if the things he’s saying are coming out the right way, if his words are romantic, if you even believe him—but you do. You should reassure him of that much.
Overall, Deuce might not be the best at actual party preparation, nor is he the absolute life of the party on the day itself, but it’s incredibly easy to look past that when you actually see not just the fruits, but the efforts as well.
(Also, he tells you his mom greeted you with a Happy Birthday as well. Most kids don’t relay their parents messages to their friends and vice versa, but the fact that he does is sweet)
“And she says you, um, can come over to our home if you want! Over the holidays!”
CATER DIAMOND
There is only one way to hide your birthday from him—if you don’t have it set on any of your social media profiles or you lied about it online, and you refused to tell him. Cater does ask about your birthday after all, especially if you’re close.
So unless you’re a particularly secretive person, Cater is more likely to find out about it early, have it stored on his phone, and the notif reminds him a good week before, allowing him ample time to prep.
Cater will also eventually tell everyone (that matters to you) about your birthday, and for some he will be the first source of news. If he’s the first you’ve told, however, expect him to keep that piece of information to himself just for a day.
Unless you’re telling him the day of, the day before, or even while he’s in the middle of doing chores for the upcoming Unbirthday Party. He’s telling everyone—in the DMs, the GCs, in the Heartslabyul lounge, you name it. He’ll be jittery in his seat during class to the point that even Idia will be compelled to ask what’s going on with him.
He’s messaging Trey something along the lines of, “So how fast can you make a cake?”
That aside, his Unique Magic (Signature Spell) is perfect when it comes to doing the preparations, no matter where you want to have it. Cater may not have as much brawn as some other students, but he more than makes up for it with his eye for design. Not only does he tailor the party based on what he knows you like, everything is designed to be as aesthetically pleasing as possible, both to the eye and on photo.
He does get you involved in the preparations, it’s certainly more fun that way! The Cater clones, and Cater himself, are bouncing ideas off of you, constantly asking for your opinions, and of course, taking many, many pictures with you. The pictures increase tenfold on the day itself. He won’t post them if you seem uncomfortable, but, especially if you’re a close friend or significant other, he wants the memories.
(Even more so if you’re the Ramshackle prefect in addition—the uncertainty of your stay…)
While his clones happily discuss their ideas amongst themselves, Cater pulls you away from the hustle. Alongside talking about the party, he’s definitely trying to get information of what you could want—and, of course, casually looking through your room to make sure he doesn’t get you something you already have (and don’t need more of).
Cater also has pretty good investigative skills. If made available to him, he goes through your online shopping cart/wishlist to see what things you happen to want. Of course, he already does have a vague idea based on your social media likes, posts, and following.
He’s an excellent and extremely thoughtful gift giver. He’s not the type to just give based on aesthetics. Due to the presents he used to receive from his sisters during his birthday, he understands how important it is to really put the thought in the saying, it's the thought that counts.
The day of, he’s getting his club to play some music live for you! Wherever you are, it’ll be a mini concert! Some of the song selections are chosen to keep the energy of the party up, but there are some songs that are definitely chosen with you in mind. These could be songs from a genre you like, but, in particular if you’re his partner, there could be a song or two to hint at the extent and depth of his feelings for you.
If you’re close friends or his partner, he’s definitely more attached to you on the day of your birth. He’s being incredibly affectionate—physically through hugs and kisses if you’re comfortable, considering touch is definitely a love language of his, and just through spending time with you in general.
In general, Cater is a total blast to be around for your birthday. He’s incredibly good at shaping your day to be how you most like it—whether it be a party going all night, full of energy and music, or a short but meaningful one with the people you care about—it’s so clear to see every decision was deliberately made with you in mind.
TREY CLOVER
Trey goes through so much shit please, please tell him about your birthday early. He’s going to go grey early at the rate things are going in Heartslabyul, and just NRC in general.
In the case that you tell him late, he’ll understand if it’s a case of it slipping your mind, or even something about not wanting to cause a fuss about it and wanting to either do the preparations yourself or wanting something simple, but…
If you’re just a little bit cruel and you want to play a prank on him, you can ask him to help you bake a cake, or some other dessert of choice, and if you have a good enough cover story he probably will help you. When you eventually reveal the truth to Trey, he’s gobsmacked, jaw on the floor, drops a plate—
“We were baking your birthday cake?!”
Regardless, even if you tell him upfront about it he’s still going to try to make whatever you want, for as long as he deems it in his skill level. He’ll accept the help, but you can notice he’s definitely a lot more conscious with you around. He definitely can’t afford to mess up with you watching him…
If you and Trey are close he’ll let you play around with the ingredients, whether it’s throwing flour at him or smearing cream or jam on his nose (what is he, a dormouse?), but expect him to do the same to you. It won’t become a full on mess or food fight, but just enough to require your uniforms to be washed later.
If you’re together, he’ll be extra sweet on you, especially with no prying eyes in the kitchen. He’s the one tying your apron around your waist for you, spoon feeding you everything to make sure you like the taste.
If you’re bold, feel free to pull a line about how you want him to get a taste as well, before kissing him!
Trey’s the one who panics the least among the Heartslabyul members. He’s already used to rush orders from all the times he’s helped his parents, and while he would prefer to not work under stress, whether it be cooking or baking or helping set up the place, it’s easy for him to settle in the zone.
If you’re the Ramshackle Prefect or a Heartslabyul student, best know that the Unbirthday Party? Cancelled. Tea party? Cancelled. Trey doesn’t always use his Vice Dorm Leader privileges, but he uses it to convince Riddle to have your birthday party made to your liking instead. Riddle agrees, but it’s more to do with Trey (and perhaps you) being his friend as opposed to the leadership positions.
Even if you’re not the Ramshackle Prefect or from Heartslabyul, Trey is pulling strings to have other parties moved to another date. He’d want to be able to spend time at your birthday party instead of running back and forth between Heartslabyul and wherever you happen to be.
Definitely makes use of Doodle Suit (EN: Paint the Roses) on demand for you.
It’s a given that Trey will give you something he’s baked himself, taking note whether you preferred savory or sweet, what textures you preferred, as well the foods you loved and those you avoided, but if you’re close he wants to get you something you can keep as well.
If you told him about your birthday early, he might have taken the time to shop in his hometown for something to get you. If you’re together or he has feelings for you, his parents and siblings probably side-eyed him like What’s going on? Who’s this for?
He’s not particular about being secretive so he does ask you what you want to receive. If there’s something you like, just tell him and he’ll try to get it for you!
Funnily enough, the best part of the gift would probably be the little card he wrote a note on. Trey’s not known to be the best with words but it’s just so Trey that you can’t help but treasure it.
Overall, Trey is an absolute sweetheart. Compared to the others he’s definitely more of a behind-the-scenes type when it comes to preparing for your birthday, and he’s not going to be the life of the party or getting you involved in all sorts of party games, but you recognize how the party would not have been possible without his help in the first place.
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
If you tell him about your birthday early, it might seem like he doesn’t give a shit, considering he just closes his eyes and goes to sleep. However, the piece of information is stored at the back of his mind—he’s very conscious of it, and you wouldn’t even know that he’s already had everything prepared—the greeting he’ll give you, the gift he’ll give you, all of it is prepared even before the day itself.
If you tell him on the day of, well, he’ll be a little pissed if he’s the last to find out, but what are you waiting for? You have to celebrate, don’t you? Go lead the way now, herbivore.
He gets a headache if you tell him you have nothing prepared, or have no idea on what you want to do, or how you want to celebrate.
Planning is a no… on the surface. He’s not going to be getting up to do the work himself, but the gears in his brain are oiled and working. He’s spewing out ideas based on what he already knows works best for parties, as well as what he knows you like.
Ruggie and the rest of the Savanaclaw students will be the ones doing the brunt of the work, but you can’t deny that even the lazy lion is helping in his own way.
Of course, particularly if you’re close friends or his partner, the funds for everything come from his designer wallet.
If you choose to ask Leona for help to prepare, while he (and the rest of his dorm) does deliver, the one thing you shouldn’t expect is for it to be formal and stuffy. If you want something like that, go ask someone like Vil or, ugh, Malleus instead.
If you’re together, Leona is the first to greet you (in person. He can’t beat out the rest of your friends who have their finger hovering above the send button at 11:59 pm, trying to be the first to greet you). When you wake up, you’ll find Leona somewhere in your room—maybe he’s sleeping on a chair, maybe he’s beside you on your bed. Regardless, the shuffling of your blankets will wake him, and he’s there to give you your greeting and your gift(s).
(Even though it’s your birthday, still wants to be thanked with some form of physical affection in return, likely a kiss or getting to cuddle with you and sleep in a little longer)
Leona can and will pretend to not have put too much time thinking about not getting you, not in the sense that he just got you whatever but more in the sense of, “The perfect gift just popped up in my mind naturally. I just knew what to get you from the very start.”
However, he does spend a good amount of time thinking about it. You’re one of the few people in his life he finds important, so it’s important to him that you’re happy with whatever he gets you. Expense is not at all a problem for him, thus he has way too many options to filter through.
If you’re the Ramshackle Prefect, his mind probably automatically goes to things you might need to make your life living there easier. He’s slept over there a few times, it’s nice and quiet, so he knows what you lack, what could be better.
Whether you’re the prefect or not, Leona thinks about giving you a gift based on your hobbies. During his birthday, his dorm members were a little (too) focused on his hobby of playing chess, so that probably gave him the idea.
If you’re into art, he’s going to buy some nice quality paints or pencils. Athletics, maybe dance? A nice pair of sneakers so you don’t hurt your feet while training. Do you like video games, idols, or anime? Idia gets jumpscared by Leona, who asks him where to best buy the merchandise you like.
(Idia goes, “A normie, tho an SSS tier one, who buys merch for his cultured s/o… isn’t this every broke fan’s fantasy???”)
As a friend, his gifts aren’t the most customized or unique, but you can tell he actually thought of you while picking them out.
It’s a little different if the two of you are together, though. If you’re together and the two of you are already serious about each other, well, expect not only gifts from Leona, but his family as well. He might get you something from the Afterglow Savannah in addition to the things he’s already given you—maybe an accessory or article of clothing with cultural and romantic significance.
Also, you know, you could say the Savanaclaw members being overly respectful to you is a gift in itself.
Overall, Leona’s the type who seems like he’s being very laidback about celebrating your birth, but on the day itself you notice not only the gifts piling up from everyone, but how everyone’s really treating you like you’re the star of the show, and it becomes clear Leona has a lot to do with that. This one day, he’ll spoil you openly.
JACK HOWL
Jack doesn’t seem like the type to panic over how soon a birthday is, though he would prefer knowing in advance. The most he would do is scold you if you waited until the day itself (mostly because you narrowed down his choices in gifts, and because he’s going to cancel a bunch of his plans to spend time with you. Whatever he slacks on with his workout regime for the afternoon, he’ll just have to make up for the day after)
Given his good memory, definitely remembers your birthday even without writing it down somewhere.
While Jack doesn’t outright pretend to not care about your birthday, you also won’t catch him fussing about it. If you choose not to involve him in the party preparations at all, you’ll be surprised with how he just comes up to you when you’re alone to give you your gift. Isn’t he a little too caught up with this lone wolf thing? It’s kind of cute.
When it comes to Jack, it’s far more interesting to see how his reactions differ based on your relationship to him.
If the two of you are friends, he’ll offer his help if you need any heavy lifting (or need help with any physical task) for the party preparations. It’s a good use of his strength, and he’s able to help you out—it’s a win-win for him.
He’ll try to be more involved in the planning process if you’re close—especially if you’re the Ramshackle Prefect and/or one of the first years he spends a lot of time with. To have a good celebration, everyone needs to put their best efforts, so Deuce says, so you’re all pitching in ideas on what food to serve, what music to play, and who to invite.
He’s got crazy good endurance, so if you need him to run around the place either handing out invitations, or retrieving things from the kitchen, or be your errand-runner to buy things from Mr. S’s Mystery Shop, he’s got you covered.
If he’s your boyfriend, expect him to really want you to sit back and relax. This is how he knows how to spoil you, so let him.
A typical gift from Jack would be buying you a meal either from the cafeteria or Mostro Lounge, but the closer you are to him the more he wants to get you something with a little bit more sentiment. Food is still an option, though if that’s the case, it’s more likely he’ll go out to town to look for a certain brand of snack or sweet you happen to like.
(Jokes about getting you protein powder)
For a non-consumable gift, unless you tell him (or give a hint) about something specific, Jack wants to get you something practical. Maybe he’ll get you socks themed around an animal you really like (he’ll get a little flustered if you tell him wolves are your favorite, and raise his eyebrows if you say something like a lion or hyena). Other options include a scarf, or gloves, or…
You notice how he seems to be preparing you for the cold, and you can choose to point out that it looks like he wants you to visit him in his hometown. He’ll definitely deny it, but you can rely on his tail to tell you the truth.
You realize you can get away with a lot with having Jack as a close friend or significant other. Meaning, the wolf form—as long as the both of you are away from the public, he’ll use his Unique Magic for you. Being called fluffy and cute is a lot for him to process.
You might say the best gift of all is getting Jack to cuddle with you—wolf form or otherwise. It’s your birthday, your word goes. It’s embarrassing for him either way, but because he cares for you he pushes it aside and pretends he’s really not that affected by it at all.
To conclude, Jack may not be the most honest, but you can tell he’s pushing past his comfort zone to give you a good birthday.
RUGGIE BUCCHI
Another one you should have mercy on. Tell him in advance! He’s always running around all over the place, doing this for Leona and some other responsibilities that he needs time to prepare.
If you’re a Savanaclaw student, he’s already going to get everyone (execpt Leona, clearly) to set up the place for your birthday. He says it’s Leona’s orders and everyone believes him—the privileges of being his assistant.
If you’re not, he’s coming over to your dorm to help when he finds himself free—especially if you’re from Ramshackle. He doubts the capabilities of ghosts to help you.
Hey, if Leona’s in a particularly good mood (or if Leona happens to like you as well), Ruggie’s going to have a day off to help you out, and just hang out with you in general.
He jokes around that because you’re already getting a lot of love from people, you totally don’t need him to get you anything, right?
Even if you insist otherwise, Ruggie does want to get you something tangible as a present, so he probably works an extra hour at the Mostro Lounge to buy you something from Sam’s shop (or somewhere in town, if he knows a place). It won’t be pricey, but you can tell he knows you well enough to be able to get you something you’d like.
At the party itself Ruggie is extremely energetic. Yes, he alway enjoys them for the food, but getting to celebrate someone like you is what makes this particular party special.
He’s no Kalim or Jamil when it comes to dancing, and he’s got no formal ballroom skills to date, but he can still show you a fun time on the dance floor (which is just the floors of the dorm of your choosing). Ruggie is certain to get you laughing along with him as the two of you pull out a bunch of wild and incoherent movements.
If you’re close friends or in a relationship with him, he especially wants to hog as much of your attention as possible. Is everyone’s attention on you? That’s great! But he’s more special to you than them, isn’t he?
If you’re in a romantic relationship, he’s using his time to show some PDA. He’s the type who thinks he really lucked out when it came to you, so he also wants to show that not only is he a good boyfriend, but there’s no way he’s giving you up—ever!
Though even if the relationship is completely platonic, Ruggie might still take the chance to give you some physical affection. Maybe it’ll rile up someone you like or someone who likes you! Maybe it’s to ward off someone with bad intentions—he might not be Leona or Jack… but he knows Leona and Jack, so they better be careful. And, well, Ruggie and his UM can be scary in their own right.
And, you know, you’re a comforting presence, so there’s also that!
Overall, he definitely shows his general appreciation for you through his actions, and he’s working extra hard to make sure you have a great birthday. Praise him, smile at him, and most of all enjoy yourself—he’ll appreciate knowing his efforts aren’t for naught!
masterlist
#twst x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#ace trappola x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#deuce spade x reader#cater diamond x reader#jack howl x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#trey clover x reader#nathya twst writing#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#took a pause from my usual oneshot scenario writing style to try hcs for the first time lol
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superposition ━ miyuki kazuya
in which miyuki isn't the fool in love with his childhood best friend. it's you.
━ completed
━ wc: 27k
━ warnings: none
━ you can read this on ao3 as well
You met Miyuki Kazuya when you were eight-years-old. You didn’t know how to feel about him.
You were introduced to him simply because he was the same age as you and you happened to live a few houses down from each other. It had been an attempt to get you to socialize more, as the move from your home country had severely jarred you. Here you were, in an entirely different city and country with strange new customs and environments. The small, eight-year-old you didn’t like it very much.
The move had all been done in favor of the bakery your parents ran, recipes based on traditional dishes you grew up with. The bakery was right next door to your home and always seemed to be busy. Your father was almost always there, running around, making sure customers were happy while your mother played the entertainer.
They must’ve gotten tired of having to split their attention between you and the bakery because that morning before the bakery opened, she dragged you into the yard, where a short boy with brown hair and glasses waited.
“This Miyuki Kazuya. He lives down the street with his father. Go on, say hello,” your mother tried to coax you out from behind her legs, but you stayed there stubbornly, the fabric of her skirt balled up in your small hands. Your strength was no match against hers, though, and she pried you off her skirt, leaving the two of you in the yard of your house alone.
The boy peered cautiously at you. You realized he was smaller than you and relaxed slightly. Smaller kids were easier to deal with, right?
“Do you know how to play baseball?” he asked suddenly, watching with wide, amber eyes.
You pursed your lips. “Not really. It’s hard.”
Miyuki blinked in surprise. “Hard? No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is,” you countered stubbornly.
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is!”
“Can you throw a ball?”
You stopped, confused at the sudden question. “Of course I can,” you huffed, now affronted. What kind of question was that? Who didn’t know how to throw a ball?
“Then you can play. Come on, let’s go. I left my glove at my house.” He turned and began walking down the street, not bothering to wait for you.
He was annoying, you thought, but you were a little curious, so you followed him down the sidewalk to a two-story home a few houses down from yours, right next door to a factory.
“Wait here,” he instructed then dashed into the house, giving you no time to protest. You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. Who was this boy? He was so demanding and know-it-all. And you barely knew him, who was he to tell you what to do?
While you were tempted to not listen to him, you stayed there, waiting impatiently for him to return. You glanced around. The factory next door had the sounds of work going on, but you couldn’t see anything and the windows were far too high for you to see. You squinted to read the sign. Miyuki Steel. Did his family own a business, too?
You looked back to the door as he dashed out of the house, baseball glove and ball in hand. He held up a hand, signaling for you to wait as he ran to the factory and popped his head into the doorway.
“I’ll be home in a little while, Dad!”
There was no audible response, but he turned back around anyway, walking back towards you. He tossed you the ball, which you clumsily caught with a scowl on your face.
“Does your family own a business, too?”
“My dad,” he corrected. “He makes machines. It’s cool.”
That was kinda cool, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing you agreed.
“Are you gonna work there, too? When you’re grown-up?”
“No way. I’m gonna be a professional baseball player.” He turned to grin arrogantly at you. “Hey, hurry up. We need to get a good spot at the park.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you muttered, mood souring quickly at his bossiness.
Miyuki shrugged. “That’s what catchers do for their pitchers.”
“I’m not a pitcher,” you protested, following him reluctantly across the street after you glanced both directions, something he’d totally failed to do before crossing. “I wanna be a doctor.”
“That’s boring.”
You scowled, stopping on the sidewalk and dropping the ball unceremoniously onto the ground. “I don’t want to play, then.”
“Fine, then.” He continued walking towards the park, barely sparing you a glance.
You stood there for a second, casting a glance at the baseball still resting at your feet, then at your house that was quite a ways back. Squinting, you could see the bakery right next to it, the door swinging open and closed as people entered in quick succession. You recalled your mother’s words before Miyuki came over.
“Honey, please . . . Try to make some friends, okay? Kazuya is a good kid. He’ll grow on you.”
Initially, you’d been confused. Shouldn’t she have said something like ‘you’ll like him’ instead of that? But now, you understood. He was infuriating.
Yet, you remembered the loneliness of the first few days, stuck inside the house with nothing to do. Your older sister was always in her room, not willing to play with you. Apparently, she’d outgrown you, which didn’t make much sense. Sisters were always there, weren’t they?
Then, there was the situation with your parents and the bakery. On top of that, they were also preoccupied with your mother’s pregnancy. Rather, your father was constantly worrying about her, even though she was only six months pregnant. The baby only came when she was nine months pregnant, so why was he so worried about it?
You frowned, staring at the red stitching on the baseball. Miyuki’s bossiness . . . Well, it could be something you worked on, right?
You picked up the ball and ran after him.
“Wait up!”
You decided that he may not be the ideal friend, but he was there, and that was all that mattered.
Your younger brother was born two months later in the winter of December on a particularly cold day. By then, Miyuki had stuck to your side like a parasite, always asking for you to pitch to him, always asking for you to help him out if he ever got scraped up. And you did it, not necessarily because he was being annoying about it — which he was, but you were beginning to grow immune to his pestering — but because it was fun.
(Well. Disinfecting bloody knees wasn’t fun, but the cringe you’d get out of him when you poured hydrogen peroxide over the cut was always satisfying. Served him right for running around like an idiot.)
For your little brother’s one-month anniversary, friends and family were invited over. Aunts and uncles preened over you (“You’re growing up so fast!” and “You look exactly like your mother!”). It was horrible, so you managed to sneak Miyuki in and made a getaway to your room to play video games.
As you walked down the hallway, his attention was grabbed by your little brother currently napping in his nursery. (You didn’t understand why the party still went on even while he was asleep. This was all for him, wasn’t it?)
“He’s not that cute,” Miyuki muttered as he looked over the bars of the crib.
You nodded somberly. “He isn’t. He looks like a wrinkled grape. Mom said that’s just how little babies look, though.”
“So, you looked like that at one point, then.”
You scoffed. “So did you.”
“Of course I didn’t. I was a cute baby.”
“Sure.”
He reached out to tug on a piece of your hair and you batted his hand away with a scowl. “I won’t pitch for you anymore,” you said warningly.
“Fine, fine,” Miyuki snickered. “Come on. I wanna play Mario Kart today.”
You two snuck out of the nursery and into your room to play games for the rest of day, at least until he had to go home. Or until your mother discovered him.
Your name is called, just as your mother opens the door, in the middle of saying, “— come downstairs we’re all going to have din —"
She stops, blinking in surprise at the sight of Miyuki on the floor. “Hello, Kazuya.”
He stood up quickly and bowed.
She smiled, but it looked strange. “Would you like to join us for dinner? Perhaps you want to invite your father as well? Oh, does he know you’re here?”
Miyuki nodded but didn’t say much after that. You took over.
“He’ll stay. You should invite your dad, too. If he’s not working.” Both of you knew the answer to that, but your mother was still watching you two interact, a curious look in her eyes.
“Well, you know where the house phone is. Come down in a few minutes, alright?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She shut the door. You look down at him. “Working?”
He nodded. “All day.”
You shrugged, pulling yourself off your bed. “That’s okay. You can be with us.”
“Let’s play catch afterward.”
You rolled your eyes as you two exited the room. When you passed your brother’s room, the crib was empty. You could hear your family members cooing downstairs and figured he must’ve woken up.
“Thought you wanted to play Mario Kart?” you huffed as you walked down the stairs.
“I changed my mind.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
For the last few years of elementary school and your first year of junior high, you two were joined at the hip. Junior high also meant that Miyuki was getting serious about baseball. He’d received his first catcher’s glove from his father for his birthday that year. Not that using the one from the school hindered his performance anyway.
Being on the team meant he constantly got into fights with the older boys, so you slowly transitioned from cleaning up scrapes he received from rolling around to bandaging and icing bruises he received from fights.
You’d been making your way to the baseball field to catch Miyuki. You’d already heard of his loss from the other students part of the medical club and worried about his well-being, but when he dashed up the hill, he was grinning widely. Your eyes immediately went to the cut on his face.
“Where’d you get that?” You asked, gaping as he ran up to you, baseball gear over his shoulder.
“Never mind that. I can’t believe you missed today’s game. It was so good.”
“Miyuki, didn’t you guys lose?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point. Their catcher outplayed me!”
You surveyed him carefully. “Did you get a concussion?”
“What — No, I’m fine,” he shook his head, his cap moving precariously with his rapid movements. “You’re not listening to me right now. He was some foreigner, I heard his dad was in the Majors here after coming from America.”
“And this is good because . . . ?” you trailed off, confusion clear in your voice.
Miyuki’s grin turned competitive. “I finally have a challenger.”
You scrutinized him for a few more seconds, long enough for his grin to fade and for him to fidget under your gaze. Finally, you clicked your tongue in disapproval. “Is everything a challenge to you?”
“How else am I supposed to be the best?”
You scowled. “Maybe not get hurt? Also, how did you get that cut? Are you the boys beating you up again? They better not be.”
“I tripped and fell on my way up here.” As usual, he looked utterly unashamed. You had to wonder: did this boy even feel shame? You pinched the bridge of your nose, turning on your heel, setting off for the school.
“Dummy. Come on, let’s go.” You didn’t wait for him, knowing he’d keep up with you without any protests.
“Those fights were never my fault, either,” he disagreed. “Age doesn’t matter on the field and I was just saying it like it is.”
You rolled your eyes, though you agreed. You’d never been fond of the way his older teammates pushed him around; even if Miyuki could be painfully blunt sometimes, you didn’t think there was any reason to get violent with him. And even then, sometimes he didn't even need to say anything for them to get pissed off.
You really didn't like his teammates.
He never fought back, either; said everything should be resolved on the field. You agreed, but the other boys would never think like that. They’d only continue to beat him up because they felt insecure, or he said something about their performance — something that was probably true. He could be brutal but he wasn't cruel.
“Also,” he continued as you two reentered the school and walked to your locker where you held a first aid kit (specifically put there because of Miyuki), “there was a scout there today, from Seido High School.”
You unlocked the locker, rummaging through it for the kit. “And?”
He told you about his encounter (you snorted when he recalled her comment about his height) with her and when he was finished, leaning against the locker as you tended to his cut, he looked thoughtful.
“You think he’d go to Seido?”
“Who’s this kid again? Do you have a crush?”
Miyuki puffed out his cheeks, glaring slightly at you. “No way. He’s my competition. I can’t like the enemy that way!”
You laughed, reveling in this brief moment where you were the one annoying him. “Alright, alright. I don’t know, Miyuki. Seido’s a good school, I think, especially if you wanna get serious about baseball.”
“Should I go?”
You pressed the gauze to his cheek, shooting him an apologetic look after he winced from the pressure. After, you began cleaning up and putting the kit away again. He was awaiting your answer still, watching you with analytic eyes. You shrugged.
“It’s up to you. Seido’s a powerhouse school, so I think you’d be fine, especially since you’re so damn competitive. I just thought you meant you’d challenge him from another school, assuming he went to Seido,” you told him honestly. “But also, we’re barely first years.”
He nodded, but he still looked thoughtful. Too thoughtful.
You shut your locker and shoved him forward, making him stumble on his feet.
“Hey, what was that for?” he yelped indignantly, catching his balance and readjusting the bag on his shoulder.
“You’re thinking too hard,” you replied. “Hurry up. You need to shower because you stink and my mom wants to try out a recipe with you.”
“You’re picking up too many of my habits,” he said, mock-disapprovingly, as you put on your backpack again and fell in step beside him.
“Is Miyuki Kazuya admitting he has flaws?”
“Never mind. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
In your second year of junior high, your brother turned four-years-old. You also finally hit fourteen, along with Miyuki. With that, many changes came. Odd changes. Body changes. You wouldn’t lie. It was weird.
The counselors seemed to notice the sudden plight you all had. Girls stuck closer to each other, gossiping about boys and the like. Boys were suddenly coming in wearing heavy cologne, trying their hardest to appeal to others. You thought it was stupid. So did Miyuki.
That didn’t mean you two were exempt from the mandatory conversation with the counselor about the ‘changes in your body’ and the ‘strange way you may be feeling,’ whatever that meant. Truth be told, it was almost scarring.
“Tell me, have you noticed a change in your feelings to other boys? Perhaps even girls?”
You blinked demurely. “Not really.”
The counselor wasn’t satisfied, her lips turning down for a split second before she fixed into a proper smile. “No to the girls?”
“No to both of them,” you corrected politely. “I don’t really notice or care about those sort of feelings. They’re not necessary.”
“Not . . . necessary?” She asked, confusion as clear as day on her face.
You shrugged. “That’s what my older sister says.” Your elder sister had graduated high school last year and stayed home to help out with the family business, apparently finding some happiness in the kitchen baking pastries. You weren’t so keen on staying here, at least not in this part of Tokyo.
Your mother and father would probably have you stay back happily, too. As your third and final year of junior high grew closer, teachers and parents were suddenly awaiting your decision on a high school. You wished they’d just leave you alone.
“Alright,” she conceded warily. “But what do you think?”
What did you think? Now, that was the million-dollar question.
You shrugged again. The counselor was beginning to look annoyed.
“Well, regardless of that, you should know that some of the . . . urges you may get aren’t things you need to act on.” . . . Wait, what?
You stared at her. “Uh . . .”
“I’m sure you know what sex is —”
You blanched. “Sensei!” That was what this was about? No, you already knew about that, probably too much. The other girls in your grade hadn’t hesitated on divulging private details about their close encounters with other boys and it was far too much information you ever wanted to know about anybody else. You didn’t judge on what they were doing, that’s not it, it’s just — too much information.
“I already know about that stuff,” you hurried out, feeling your face begin to heat up. “A-And I know I shouldn’t do any of that until I’m older. I know.”
She scrutinized you and you wondered if this was what Miyuki felt like whenever you gave him that look. If so, you were going to stop. It felt like she was seeing right through you.
Finally, she sighed and nodded. “You have a good head on your shoulders, so, I trust you’ll know what to do if you’re ever faced with something like that. Remember, though, you can always say no to unwanted advances, alright?”
You nodded firmly, finding familiar ground. Yeah, your father had given you that particular talk, too.
“Girl or boy, you always ask consent and they should, too. Don’t be afraid to say no and don’t be afraid to get out of there if they don’t agree.” You weren’t a pushover. Hell, you couldn’t be one if you had to deal with someone like Miyuki. But even he seemed more aware of the kids that were suddenly looking at you with renewed interest.
“They ought to keep their eyes to themselves,” he’d muttered, stepping around to your other side to block you from the wandering eyes of a group of third years.
You only sighed, burying your nose deeper into the book on medicine you’d been obsessed with at the time. Oh, you could definitely take care of yourself and if need be, fight for yourself, too, but if Miyuki was willing to be your defender for now, who were you to deny him? It wasn’t like you doubted your ability to defend yourself. But he was already there and you weren’t going to waste that opportunity. Basic strategy in your opinion.
“Alright, then, we’re done here. Send Kazuya in, won’t you?”
You nodded and scrambled out of your seat, desperate to get out of that situation. Your face still felt irritatingly hot but you ignored it. You exited the office, spotting Miyuki in the waiting area, a sports magazine in his lap.
“You’re up, Miyuki,” you said, stealing the magazine off his lap, much to his chagrin.
“Hey, I was reading that —” he made a grab for it but you stretched your arm behind you, holding it at a distance. He stood up and you were momentarily surprised, stunned if you were being honest. So surprised you let him pry the magazine out of your hands.
“There’s a good article in here about the catcher that the SoftBank Hawks just recruited, I want to take a picture of it. You have your phone?” He held out his hand expectantly and you had the briefest of common sense to hand your phone over to him. His fingers brushed against yours and you pulled back, as though you’d been electrocuted. He didn’t notice.
You stared at him. When . . . When had he gotten so tall? Only last year he’d been the about the same height as you, if only a few inches taller, but it hadn’t been noticeable. When you’d been kids, you’d always been the one taller than him, but you kept growing and seemed to have stopped now.
Miyuki, though . . . He was easily five to six inches taller than you. What would that be? Five foot nine? Maybe even five foot ten? When had this happened? Was this recent? Or had it been gradual and you just hadn’t noticed?
“I’m gonna need to use your phone later to read this. Thanks. Hey, what does she want, by the way?” He’d handed you your phone back without glancing back and set the magazine back down on the coffee table, but once he’d turned around, he stopped and frowned at you, saying your name. “You good?”
You snapped out of it. “I’m fine, sorry. Just got distracted.”
“With what?” Of course. Miyuki Kazuya never knew when to drop something. He eyed you with barely-hidden suspicion.
“It’s nothing. Have you gotten taller recently?” Curse your loose tongue. You couldn’t help it, though. You had to know.
“Have I . . . ? Oh. Yeah,” he grinned, looking smug now, but there was something different because now you had to look up at him. It felt weird. Strange. “Five foot nine and half, last time I checked. Had to donate almost all of my pants. What about you?”
You scowled, your strange feelings disappearing as quickly as they’d come. “Shut it. Hurry up before Otsuka-sensei comes out here and beats you up.”
His obnoxious laughter followed you out of the main office. “She wouldn’t! I’ll see you in class, don’t eat lunch without me!”
You paused to look back at him. “What if you take too long?”
He grinned in a way that irritated you. “Guess you’re not eating lunch!”
You scowled deeply, swallowing down the curse words you felt compelled to throw at him, only holding back because of the receptionist currently eyeing you two in disapproval.
Prick, you mouthed.
He winked. Bastard.
Saying others didn’t have high expectations of you would be a lie. You were one of the top students in your grade, well-known for taking excellent notes and passing all your exams. Of course, others merely assumed you were just naturally intelligent, but it didn’t work that way.
There were far too many times when you had to split time between working register at the bakery and studying for a test. And many more times when you had to turn Miyuki down for some time to yourself. Honestly, though, you were sure you’d have run yourself into the ground if it hadn’t been for Miyuki’s pestering sometimes.
“I need to study, Miyuki,” you grumbled, switching between reading your textbook and taking inventory behind the counter. He was leaning over it, glove and baseball in his hand with his hat worn crookedly as per usual.
“You’ve been studying for the past three days. A break won’t kill you.”
“It might.”
He huffed petulantly. “You’re ignoring your best friend in favor of school? How cruel.”
You sighed shortly. “Don’t pull that.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sure your little brother would be more than happy to pitch to me —”
“You realize he has the arm strength of a toddler, right?”
“Or maybe Mei would be willing to do it. He has been begging me to catch for him recently . . .”
“Narumiya . . .” you grumbled out, mood souring further. Narumiya Mei was from downtown Tokyo, living it up in the more expensive districts at his junior high where he dominated as the ace. Apparently, Miyuki and Narumiya had gone head-to-head during a game in the first semester of your second year and Narumiya liked Miyuki’s style of catching, even though your junior high’s team had lost phenomenally.
“I’m sure he won’t mind taking the train here . . .”
You clicked your tongue, flipping to the next page of your textbook. “Miyuki, you and I both know you can’t handle him for long periods of time. It’s literally impossible.”
He cracked a genuine smile. “Give him more credit.”
“No,” you refused stubbornly. Narumiya could be so condescending sometimes. The first time you’d met him, he hadn’t hesitated to throw an insult at you and worse, Miyuki hadn’t felt the need to defend you from it. That had been your first serious fight.
“Yes, Miyuki, I can defend myself, but I hardly knew him. Why couldn’t you step up for me? Just that once?”
“You’re making this a bigger deal than it actually is.”
“We’re friends, aren’t we? Friends defend each other, especially best friends, so what the hell?”
“If that’s all you’re going to talk about, I really don’t want to play with you, then.”
You had thick skin. You had to, being friends with Miyuki and all. And okay, fine, you were hurt when he had dismissed you so easily. Sure, maybe you were making this a bigger deal than it should’ve been, but nothing had quite hurt as much as it had when you learned that he’d went to catch for Narumiya after you had abandoned him. (Or rather after he’d abandoned you.)
Your older sister had been pissed to find you sniffling about it later on that day, vowing to kick his ass. You only barely managed to restrain her. Miyuki wouldn’t like someone else coming to speak or fight on your behalf. You both were mature enough to discuss it. Or so you hoped, anyway.
One week of no contact between you two had you almost caving and giving into him, but to your pleasant surprise, he approached you first. More specifically, he’d taken the painstaking time to jump the fence into your backyard and toss pebbles at your window until you finally opened it, almost taking a well-aimed pebble to the face in the process.
Of course, he didn’t outright apologize. Instead, he’d asked: “Can we play catch?”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“It is,” he agreed, then held up his glove and ball. “Please?”
You’d sighed, turning back into your room to change out of your sleeping clothes into something more suitable for going out in the muggy July night. It was easy to sneak out, your parents and siblings all fast sleep and immune to any quiet noises you might’ve made on the way out. Miyuki was waiting for you on the sidewalk in front of your house when you exited; you shut and locked the door quietly behind you.
Silently, you two began the trek to the park down the street. You found yourself tensing whenever a car would pass, ducking your head to hide your face. When the third one came round, you finally spoke. “What exactly am I breaking curfew for, Miyuki? My parents would kill me if we got taken home by a police officer.”
You lifted your head once the car was out of sight and turned to look at him. He had a pensive frown on his face. “I . . . I’m sorry.” He didn’t make eye contact with you. (In the present day, you distantly wondered if he’d been taller than you at the time, too. He had, but only by a few inches, not as tall as he’d been during the talk with the counselor.)
You were speechless. Miyuki Kazuya didn’t . . . apologize. Quite honestly, you were beginning to think you had made a bigger deal out of it than necessary. But perhaps that had been a trick on your own part, anything to try and talk with Miyuki like normal again. Up until now, you two had been close, though baseball was starting to take up a lot of his time and the medical club at school had begun helping third years find good high schools with medical curriculum programs so you were constantly staying after school.
He continued to avoid your eyes. “I should’ve defended you. You were right. Mei was being an ass and you don’t deserve that. Only I can be mean to you.”
The last part almost sounded like a defense mechanism, a way to stop this conversation from becoming too heavy. You appreciated it more than you thought you would.
You elbowed him in the ribs. “Is it physically impossible for you to say something nice?”
“Yes.” Miyuki nodded unabashedly. You scowled, but there was no heat behind it.
“Fine, I accept your apology. I’m sorry, too. I did kind of make a big deal.”
He shook his head, adamant now. “I was being a dick. You were right.” He looked at you, a little more meaningful. He elbowed you back. “Now, come on, I’ve been missing my favorite horrible pitcher.”
“Keep saying stuff like that and I won’t pitch for you.”
His laughter echoed off the houses, his eyes looking golden underneath the tawny glow of street lamps —
“— attention to me. Hey!”
Tan fingers snapped in front of your face, making you jump as you were abruptly brought back to the present. Right. Studying, an annoying Miyuki (as usual), the impending end of course exam for your English class. You regained your bearings, finding a frowning Miyuki in front of you. The furrow of his brow told you he was concerned.
“Sorry. Just got lost in thought for a little while,” you chuckled, a little embarrassed. Despite yourself, you noticed how the warm glow of the setting sun accented the golden flecks in his eyes, which were studying you seriously. You tried for a reassuring smile, but he clearly didn’t believe you.
He called out to your mother. “I’m going to be taking her out for a few! She’s been working hard!”
You gaped at him and barely managed to slip a bookmark into your textbook before he shut it and slid it underneath the counter. Your mother popped her head out of the kitchen, smiling in that perceptive way of hers.
“Of course, Kazuya. Be back by six. You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner and bring something to your father if he can’t make it.”
He grinned at her, in that charming sort of way he always did for your mother and older sister. “Yes, ma’am!”
You sighed, taking off the bakery apron and reaching for your own baseball cap. You both had gone to a SoftBank Hawks game for his twelfth birthday and bought matching caps for it. It was one of your favorite memories.
You didn’t truly care for baseball — definitely not like he did — but it made him happy, so you never really minded playing a good game with him.
By no means were you a legitimate pitcher, and as you two grew, you worried that your horrible pitching would hinder his performance since you didn’t provide a true challenge, but he had constantly said he liked playing with you for fun.
“Competitions are fun, too,” he’d agreed with your initial argument. “But I don’t have to be strategic or hard-working with you. It’s always been better with you.”
You weren’t sure you believed him, as you’d see the way his eyes lit up whenever he was out there on the field, hitting home runs, calling pitches (honestly, baseball was the perfect sport for him to show off his bossiness; you always pitied the pitchers assigned to him).
But, as you two walked to the park, you listening to him ramble about some baseball game, you figured he’d been playing catch with you this long, hadn’t he? That had to count for something.
Third year meant picking your high schools, pulling all-nights to study for entrance exams and most importantly, keeping up your grades — all the while dragging a reluctant Miyuki right behind you.
“What if you can’t get a scholarship? What if you do get one but it’s only for baseball? They’ll really be paying close attention to your grades then, you know,” you’d lectured him for the umpteenth time since the first semester began. “Having good studying habits won’t hurt you.”
“Yes, it will,” Miyuki grumbled petulantly from his spot next to you on your bed, laying down with his arm tossed over his face. You rolled your eyes, picking out a pencil to use for your assignment that you were about to do.
“You have no problem swinging three hundred times a day but when it comes to notes, what is it? You can’t read now?”
“I’m illiterate.”
You climbed over his legs to retrieve your notebook from your backpack on the floor, then threw it onto his stomach, making him jump at the sudden impact. You climbed back over to your spot against the wall. “Read those. I dumbed it down for you.”
“Thank you!”
You shook your head, grinning despite yourself. He was a real loser sometimes.
The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence, punctuated by the sound of your little brother’s laughter from downstairs. He was probably watching one of his kid shows again. When the bakery began to get busier with the new school year, TV had become a fixation for him, a surefire way of keeping him in one place.
You unfolded your legs out from beneath you, resting them over Miyuki’s legs. He didn’t protest. Not that he ever did, really. Much to your pleasant surprise, Miyuki could be incredibly affectionate, always wanting to maintain physical contact with you. Whenever your class was taken on long field trips, his head always found your shoulder, though you knew it had to be uncomfortable for him because of the height differences between you two. He frequently draped an arm over your shoulders, if only to lean heavily on you and cause you to stumble — much to his amusement.
It was strange. He’d done those things often when you were kids, and they’d only increased in frequency as you’d gotten older, but . . . Why exactly were you noticing? Who cared? Miyuki sure as hell didn’t.
Maybe it was because sometimes, on those long field trips, when the hum of the engine, the feeling of his warm body next to yours put you to sleep in an instant, you’d wake up with the phantom warmth still lingering, finding yourself missing it. Or when you couldn’t help but notice the pleasant scent of something sweet and a little spicy whenever he’d lean on you and it’d be so overwhelming — his weight, the warmth, the scent — that your knees felt a little weak.
You pressed your mechanical pencil harder onto the page, finding your heart beating at what seemed like an unhealthy speed. That wasn’t good. Why was your heart doing this now? All you’d been thinking of was Miyuki.
“The heart should always be beating steadily. The only time it doesn’t is when you’re high on adrenaline, you’re exercising, or —”
“What about when you have a crush, Miss?” You couldn’t recall who had asked that, but it had probably been some annoying underclassmen. A few of the other kids present giggled while the upperclassmen rolled their eyes.
The nurse smiled indulgently. “Or if you like someone.”
“Have you thought about what high school you’re going to?” Miyuki’s voice brought you out of your internal strife. You almost breathed a sigh of relief, desperate for that distraction. You turned your attention back to your assignment since you’d neglected that, too. Then, you realized what he was asking.
“Not really.”
You had.
Miyuki hummed quietly. You could see him glancing at you in the corner of your eye.
You wrote down the answer to an equation. “You?” you asked.
“Sort of . . . I think I might head to Seido.”
You couldn’t say you were surprised. That guy — Chris, you’d learned his name was — had really gotten Miyuki going, a “potential rival” to keep him on his toes.
“Oh?” you asked, feigning surprise.
“Yeah. I got an offer from them. Full ride for academic and baseball.”
“Studying pays off, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t believe you don’t have a school in mind already,” he said, ignoring your jeer. He laid the notebook flat across his chest and turned his eyes up toward your ceiling. “What have you been doing in the medical club all this time?”
You snorted. “Helping the last third years get into good high schools. I don’t know, Miyuki, I just haven’t really thought about it that much.” Now, you were blatantly lying to him. Oh, you’d given high school a lot of thought. The idea of going somewhere far away — such as Hokkaido — detested you, and you knew Miyuki would love it if you’d go with him to Seido. In fact, any moment now —
“Why not Seido? They have a great academic program, you know. They’re always in the top ten national rankings every year for academics.” He was trying to be nonchalant about it, but you could hear — and understand — the message under his words. Let’s do this together.
Your grip on your pencil tightened. The idea of being away from him was painful.
But was that the best idea?
You managed to stave off his questions, only promising to tell him your choices when you managed to find a few good schools. He left after dinner, taking a plate for his own father and your notebook, promising to read them. (You didn’t believe him.)
When you went back up to your room, you went over to your dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer. It was the one with undergarments — one that Miyuki would never touch since he knew what was where. You brushed aside the articles of clothing and took out the thick envelope.
Mimayama School for Medicine and Science
It was in Kyoto, a huge campus that spanned an entire block and was the height of a skyscraper. It was a well-renowned school, one that had perfect statistics and scores in all subjects. The ideal high school. But it didn’t have a baseball program. Not to mention that there was a three-hour train ride from here to Kyoto.
Your grip on the envelope tightened, denting the thick cardstock. The fact that you’d been invited there was something to celebrate, but you hadn’t told your parents, having managed to steal the envelope before they could see it.
Maybe you would’ve celebrated if you lived a different life. One where Miyuki wasn’t there.
You felt guilty for thinking like that, but your sister’s words echoed in your head.
“Don’t allow feelings to influence important life decisions. Don’t think about those sorts of things. You don’t need them.”
You’d been a first year when she’d said that to you, strangely enough. It’d been the same thing you’d repeated to your counselor during that horrible conversation about puberty. And you’d firmly believed it, though there was one exception.
Don’t let others influence your feelings. Except Miyuki.
He was your best friend, after all. You’d be cruel to not feel anything.
What were you going to do, then?
Your answer seemed to come sooner or later. More specifically, the day Miyuki got into a fight.
It had been a cool October day, baseball season already over for Miyuki so he had no choice but to hang around the campus after school while you went to your regular club meetings.
The meeting had been adjourned earlier than usual so Miyuki wasn’t leaning against the wall like he usually would. The last text he’d sent you said that he was in the library, so you began walking over there. As you neared the doors, you passed a few girls, talking rapidly to each other.
“. . . fight. That’s so weird, I’ve never seen him lose his temper.”
“I know! He’s almost always antagonizing someone else, I can’t believe Tanaka was able to get Miyuki so riled up.”
You froze and turned to them, recognizing them as a few fellow classmates.
“Wait, what happened?” You stepped toward them, drawing their attention. They became fidgety and sheepish under your eyes, avoiding eye contact.
“Um . . . Miyuki got into a fight with Tanaka a few minutes ago outside the library.”
What?
Miyuki didn’t fight. He couldn’t fight. Well, no, you were sure he had a few good moves on him, especially since baseball kept him in prime shape and there were his unfortunate experiences with his more violent seniors on the team but they were long gone. Since he was a third year now (and considerably taller and more muscled), no one would dare to mess with him. Especially because he’d proved his worth on the field, that he had a right to say the things he did. It’s just that you knew he hated being at the tail-end of those confrontations. Having to take the hits, while refusing to say anything to any of the adults because they wouldn’t do anything. The violence of it. Violence has no place in baseball, he’d once said. Anything someone needs to say can be done on the field.
More than that — he couldn’t fight without risking expulsion. It would look horrible on his record and — he wouldn’t be able to go to Seido.
“Why?” you recovered quickly, not caring that you were being demanding now, probably too harsh if anything.
“We don’t know . . . We just heard it from some other kids.”
“Where is Miyuki now?” He probably wouldn’t answer your texts. If anything, it’d be exactly like him to hide this from you.
The girls shared glances again. “Um, I think he went to the boy's bathroom by 3-B.”
“Thanks,” you told them shortly, then turning on your heel and heading towards the hallway for third years. You made the decision to not retrieve your first aid kit. You’d lead him back to your house instead. He didn’t need to be around the school with visible injuries.
Once you were at the boy’s bathroom, you hesitated. What were you supposed to do? Could you go in there? Would he allow you to even see him? Maybe you could wait. He had to come out eventually.
You leaned against the lockers next to the wall, wondering what on earth happened. Even disregarding his dislike of violence and the huge risk that comes with fighting, like those girls had said, he wasn’t someone who got riled up easily. He was the one riling people up. But the fact that it’d been Tanaka made some sense; Ichiro Tanaka was the asshole in your class, always finding someone to pick on, always making unwanted advances on girls.
Miyuki may be an asshole in the sense that he could pick you apart and annoy you to death, but he had honor. (Plus, he’d never shown any interest in any girls or boys in your class ever.)
You rubbed your forehead tiredly, pulling out your phone to text your mother that you might be home earlier than usual. Just as you’d sent off the text, the door to the boy’s bathroom opened and Miyuki stepped out, his backpack slung over his shoulder, still not noticing your presence until you’d reached out to tap his shoulder.
You could see him tense, muscles stiffening. He was hesitant to turn around and you were about to call him out on it, but he turned before you could say. Your eyes widened as you took stock of his injuries.
“Are you okay?” you gasped, any thought of scolding him thrown out the window at seeing the busted lip, the cut on his temple, and the blossoming bruise on his cheek. A quick glance at his hands showed you the cuts on his knuckles, though they were only on his left hand. You knew he caught and threw with his right. At least he’d had that foresight. “What happened?”
He avoided your eyes. “I may have gotten into a fight with Tanaka.”
You huffed, glad to see he was acting normally. Well, as normal as Miyuki could ever be.
“No shit. I know that part already — though I don’t know why — but what did Tanaka do to you?” There was the underlying question in your words, one you wouldn’t outright say because it would probably appease him. Did you win?
Miyuki picked up on it anyway, smirking but then wincing at the pain he was probably feeling on his lip. “I won.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “You — I can’t believe you. Come on, let’s do this at my house. We don’t need someone seeing you.” You two began walking towards the exit. You shot him a worried glance. You couldn’t imagine the potential repercussions this could entail. You didn’t want Miyuki to be stuck here. You wanted him to leave, to go to Seido and become the best damn catcher to play high school baseball.
As if sensing your thoughts, he spoke. “No one’s going to say anything. Tanaka’s looking for a volleyball scholarship at some school in Hokkaido and his lackeys have their own scholarships they need to worry about, too. It was an unspoken agreement.”
You sighed heavily. “I don’t want you to throw away your chances at a good baseball career, Miyuki. Especially not over a fight, which, speaking of, is very unlike you. So, regardless of that . . . what on earth happened?”
He stayed silent. You pursed your lips and led him to your house. It was easy to sneak past the bakery, where your parents and older sister would be preoccupied with the dinner time rush. The house would be empty, too, since your little brother was over at a friend’s house for a playdate.
You ushered him up to the bathroom on the second floor, dropping your bags off in your room beforehand. You shut the door behind you and locked it for good measure, then opened up the window to let some fresh air in. Miyuki was still silent, appearing introspective. For once, you were unable to find out what he was thinking.
You made him wash his face and hands first, taking his glasses and setting them on the counter behind you so they wouldn’t get wet. Once he was finished and resituated on the closed toilet seat, you began tending to his wounds, first going back downstairs to grab an icepack and wrapping it in a towel so it wouldn’t be too abrasive against his face. You worked on disinfecting the cuts on his knuckles, which weren’t too bad. You had one hand cupping his, the back of his hand facing up as your fingers pressed against his palm to spread out his hand.
He grimaced at the burn of the hydrogen peroxide but didn’t say anything. When you moved to wrap up his knuckles, you closed your hand around his fingers, trying not to focus on how the calluses rubbed against your skin. You moved on to the gash on his temple, murmuring a soft “sorry” when he winced from the burn. He had to keep his glasses off, but his eyes were on the floor.
You’d been applying an ointment to the cut when he spoke again. “Tanaka said something . . . Something I’m not repeating.” You paused, your eyes briefly flickering to his bandaged hand in his lap that clenched into a fist. “I couldn’t let it slide. I know . . . you know how I feel about fighting but . . . it was about you. And I’m not going to let him, of all people, talk about you like that.”
He sat up straighter, his eyes meeting yours. You froze, golden irises searing into you in a way that made your heart race. The lack of glasses made it all the more intense, your stomach doing flips in nervousness.
“Miyuki . . .” you muttered, feeling your face heat up. “I —”
“Don’t say you don’t want me fighting because of you. I did it because you’re my best friend and no one gets to speak about you that way. No one.”
Miyuki was passionate about baseball. About his cooking. About the SoftBank Hawks. But never about you. Yet, here he was, speaking so strongly that you felt a little weak at this display of anger and . . . touched.
You pursed your lips, breaking eye contact with him to turn to the sink and take out a bandaid to put over the cut. You carefully covered the wound then took out another disinfectant wipe to use for his lip. You actually hesitated before you started your work, but it had to be done.
You brushed his chin with the back of your hand, avoiding grabbing it. He turned his head up with no qualms, but his eyes stayed on your face. You attempted to disinfect the cut on his bottom lip, but it proved to be more difficult than you thought. It could also be because your heart was racing and your face was itchy with heat. You swore silently and grabbed his chin with your hand to better clean.
You hated this. Here you were, close to his face, staring at his lips as you cleaned them. At least you had an excuse to stare, though.
You caught your train of thought and almost swore out loud. Where was that even coming from? When had you begun thinking of him like that? Yeah, Miyuki was good-looking, almost unbelievably so, but it wasn’t anything new. So why now?
You realized far too late that you’d stopped moving the wipe on his lip, the white cloth blossoming red from the blood still leaking. He winced from your grip and you wrenched your hand back, uttering a soft “sorry” again. You turned back to the sink to grab the ointment, only squeezing out a small amount so that it wouldn’t be noticeable.
With shaking hands, you pressed your fingers to his jaw to angle his face once again, concentrating on anything but the feeling of his smooth skin underneath your fingers. You spread the ointment over the cut, trying your best to be gentle but also ensuring that it wasn’t showing.
In a desperate attempt to distract yourself and to break hold from the heavy atmosphere you’d found yourself in, you lifted your head to look at him again, but before you could even think to speak, the look in his eyes made you stop. Your brain short-circuited at the look he was giving you, whether it was on purpose or not, you didn’t know. You stood there frozen, still invading his personal space for the most part.
For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. His eyes looked warm underneath the light coming in from the window, casting shadows over the curve of his nose, making him look so much more older and — and handsome.
Then, like a warning siren, your sister’s voice echoed in your head.
“Don’t let feelings cloud your judgment.”
You sighed shortly, the loud noise shattering the moment. “Honestly, Miyuki.” You shook your head, turning around to toss the q-tip into the trash along with the other used supplies. You heard him make a surprised noise at your sudden movements.
You picked up his glasses off the counter and handed them back over then took a few steps back, leaning against the wall opposite to him, putting a respectable amount of distance between you two.
“I appreciate what you did,” you said, managing to keep the shakiness out of your voice. He’d put on his glasses again, his eyes now impossible to read. “But, god, I don’t want you to not be able to go to Seido . . . That is where you decided to go, right?”
He shrugged. “Probably. Don’t worry. I mean, I don’t regret what I did. Not at all. But I do understand what you’re saying and I’m not planning to make this a regular thing.”
You scowled, feeling the atmosphere around you lighten up. “I sure hope not. You don’t need to be batting with cut up knuckles like that, you dummy.”
“I know,” he said quietly, before trying for a smirk, though it came out more like a pained grimace. “Besides, you’re here to fix me up, aren’t you?”
You huffed, turning your nose up at him. “You’re so annoying, Miyuki.”
“Thanks.”
“Shut up.”
But even as he began talking about the studying he’d managed to accomplish before he’d left the library and ended up face to face with Tanaka, you thought about your plans for high school. These feelings . . . Whatever they were, they weren’t needed. Not right now. Not right before you two were picking out your high schools. You couldn’t allow them to cloud your judgment.
At the same time, though, going to Seido with him . . . That seemed amazing. Another three more years seeing him, going through all the high school experiences, cheering him on at baseball games, it was all too dangerous. Far too dangerous.
It was dangerous because here you were, at risk of feeling something more than platonic feelings for a boy you’d known since you were eight, where you already know your feelings will never be returned.
First semester of your third year wrapped up quickly after that. With the start of your second semester, you received many offers from different schools all over the country. Your parents and sister were proud.
“That’s our girl,” your father had grinned, reaching out to ruffle your hair, much to your displeasure.
“Hey, make sure you choose a good school,” your sister said, giving you a severe look. You fixed your hair, not meeting her eyes.
“Wherever you want to go, honey, we’ll support you.” There was a heaviness in your mother’s tone, as though she didn’t want you to go far. You’d gotten an offer from the high school in this area, but you weren’t satisfied with the curriculum. Staying here would mean ending up like your sister (no offense to her, of course, since she was happy). You wanted out of Old Town Tokyo.
Miyuki had gotten a lot of offers, too. Schools everywhere wanted him as their catcher. The powerhouse schools, like Inashiro, Teito, Seido (of course), even several schools from Hokkaido. It wouldn’t be hard for him to make it as a pro. You were proud.
But he was set on Seido, and he was pressing you for your own decision, too.
“I have to start planning. It’s going to be busy when we start up,” he’d told you, trying to convince you to spill which schools had sent you offers.
“I’m still thinking,” you’d lied. “But if you really want to know, I’ve gotten one from Sakurazawa High.”
“Oh, I know them. They’ve lost in the first round of the West tournament for like, twenty consecutive years.”
You shot him a glare. “Is that all that matters?”
He chuckled, holding up his hands in a sign of surrender. “They have great academics, don’t they? But, you know . . . I’m fairly sure that Seido is equal in terms of national academic ranking . . .”
That was another thing. You knew Miyuki wouldn’t ever hold you back, just like you wouldn’t hold him back. It felt like some sort of crime to ever try and stop him from pursuing his interest in baseball and vice versa for him and your desire to be a doctor. But you knew, just like he did, that Seido was a powerhouse school in both academics and athletics. Going there wouldn’t hinder your performance nor his. Not to mention, you two would be together, right?
Except, it sounded horrible. The past few months had been stressful, because not only did you have to deal with the looks your mother was giving you about choosing a school way outside of Old Town Tokyo, but you also had to stave off the counselors who wanted your decision, along with Miyuki. Then there were your feelings for him. You weren’t sure what they were, but you knew they weren’t good. They were the type of feelings to inhibit you.
You couldn’t be a good friend to Miyuki if all you were thinking about is how much you wanted to hold his hand and have him tuck you under his arm like so many other couples did. If all you thought about was how happy he looked whenever he was talking about baseball or talking about Seido and competing for starting catcher. If all you thought about was how pretty his eyes were and how handsome he looked whenever he genuinely smiled.
You weren’t being a good friend. And you needed to fix that.
That night, you mailed the application to Mimayama. Two days later, you received your acceptance letter.
“Mimayama? That’s so cool!”
“Wow! You’re serious about being a doctor, aren’t you?”
It had meant to be a secret. You’d only wanted your family to know and no one else. You’d tell Miyuki when you had to. Preferably right before he left to Seido, or maybe when he was there already. Clearly, that had been too tall of an order.
You’d notified your counselors of your acceptance and subsequent admittance into Mimayama, much to their happiness. Apparently, no such thing as student-to-administrator confidentiality existed because your homeroom teacher found out immediately and after publicly congratulating you, a group of girls had approached you, gushing over your acceptance.
Luckily, not many people had been there yet, though a few of your other classmates had eyed you curiously. Miyuki was running late, something or another about sleeping in. You didn’t know — didn’t care, since that meant you had time to do damage control.
“Listen,” you began, trying to look as serious as possible. The girls leaned in eagerly. “Keep it to yourselves, alright? Don’t tell Miyuki or anyone else. I don’t want to start unnecessary rumors. It’d be horrible if people thought I was boasting about it.”
They nodded, agreeing immediately. “Of course! But why not tell Miyuki?”
They were looking harder at you now, more analytical, more perceptive. It reminded you too much of your mother and sister. You came up with a quick lie.
“It’s a surprise for him. I’ll be telling him later on. We’re going to different schools —” those words left a bitter taste in your mouth and a numb ache in your heart “— so I’m trying to prepare, you know?”
They soaked it up. Of course they did. Miyuki was popular with girls and they’d always wondered about your friendship with him. Saying all this to them was probably enough gossip to last for the rest of the year.
“Totally! We’ll be quiet, promise!”
You smiled at them, glancing over at the door just as Miyuki stepped into the room, looking like a total mess. The girls turned back around and began whispering to each other, sending occasional glances towards him then to you.
You ignored them in favor of watching him shuffle over to the desk in front of yours. He collapsed dramatically into his seat, laying on top of your desk instead of his own. You raised an eyebrow.
“Are you done?”
“I’m tired,” he muttered. “Exhausted.”
Now a little concerned because a tired Miyuki wasn’t a good thing (though he was absolutely adorable), you leaned forward. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”
He lifted his head and you clicked your tongue at the circles underneath his eyes. His hair was messier than usual, leaving you to contemplate whether or not he’d actually brushed it. “I was finishing the application to Seido. Mailed it off this morning.”
“When was the deadline?”
“Tomorrow.”
You rubbed your forehead, exasperated. “Miyuki . . . You’re so lucky you don’t have baseball anymore.”
“Not until next year.” He yawned and you tried your best to not think that he looked so adorable all sleepy and tired. This was a bad thing. He needed his sleep. “It was worth it. Hey, Mei wants to talk to me today after school. D’you want to come along?”
You pursed your lips. Well, you still weren’t fond of Narumiya, even after he’d begrudgingly apologized to you. He was Miyuki’s friend — sort of — and you’d wanted to lead Miyuki straight to his house so he could take a nap after school. This would just have to be done before, then. “Sure, but after, we’re going back to your house and you’re taking a nap.”
He grinned lazily at you. “Thanks.”
You turned away, ignoring the burn in your cheeks. “Whatever. Try not to fall asleep in class.”
He did end up falling asleep. And of course, you covered for him despite your earlier words. You had to wonder. If these feelings weren’t there, would you have done it? You glanced at him from the corner of your eye as you two made your way to the park. (After school, you’d dropped off your bags at his house since his was closet and began towards the place that Narumiya wanted to meet up at.) He yawned again, something he’d been doing frequently today, and you decided yes, no matter your feelings, you would gladly take cover for him.
Maybe that was where the problem had started.
Miyuki had always been the best in baseball, striving to work hard and prove himself, calling for aggressive plays and focusing even if something hadn’t gone his way. Despite his tendency to laziness when it came to exams and such, he was a diligent student.
In some ways, you wanted to be like him. Charismatic and charming when it counted, quick-thinking in difficult situations. After all, that was how doctors needed to be, right? They needed to be decisive, no hesitancy in their movements. You had someone’s life laid willingly into your hands and you couldn’t disappoint.
Had this admiration planted the seeds for your feelings?
You didn’t know and you didn’t have time to think it over as you came to the park. You fell a little behind as you realized there were other boys present, all from different leagues, though you knew they were part of Narumiya’s friend group. If Miyuki noticed you partially hiding, he didn’t say anything about it.
“Well, well, what’s with the gathering of the all-stars?” he asked, announcing his presence to them, in that conniving way of his. The boys turned to him, a few curious eyes glancing over to you, but you resolutely stood silent with your arms crossed, not offering your name. Thankfully, Miyuki didn’t offer to introduce you either.
He began listing off their names and leagues (you wondered briefly how he knew that, but of course, if it was baseball, it was important). When he finished, hands still casually in his pockets, he turned to Narumiya. “Did you call them all here, Mei?”
Mei grinned. “Yeah. And you, Kazuya. If you come with me, I can form my ultimate team.”
You raised your eyebrows. Well, you were surprised at this turn of events, but it wasn’t exactly far from something Narumiya would do. Miyuki laughed, sounding surprised as well.
“I don’t really care if you’re not the catcher, but Narumiya wants you,” the one named Shirakawa said, probably trying to help Narumiya convince Miyuki but it just sounded like he was bored and would rather be somewhere else.
“Inashiro invited you, too. Right, Kazuya?”
It was strange. You’d never been the possessive or jealous type. Miyuki had his fangirls — of course — but he’d never paid attention to them. Hearing Narumiya call Miyuki by his first name made you tense. Miyuki, you could understand — he called everyone by their first name, whether it was welcomed or not and you’d been calling him by his last name for as long as you could remember, more by habit now rather than respect. He’d never asked you to call him by his first name, either, so that’s the way it’d always been.
But here was the ever-so-condescending Narumiya Mei, speaking so casually with your best friend. It made you uncomfortable, but you pushed that away. This wasn’t the time nor place.
“So, why don’t we make the ultimate team together? If we all get on the same team, we could take nationals.” That was what this was about then. Barring your brief discomfort at hearing Narumiya call Miyuki by his first name, you felt a little proud that even such a self-centered pitcher like Narumiya and the others knew how valuable of a catcher that Miyuki was.
“Inashiro’s coach has a lot of experience under his belt and they have the best equipment in Tokyo. It’s a great environment, too,” Kamiya added.
“Not to mention, you won’t have to play against Narumiya. You’re in, too. Right, Miyuki Kazuya?” Shirakawa, as much as you hated to admit it, had a point. You’d seen Narumiya pitch. He was head and shoulders above a lot of the pitchers in your year. That was probably why he was so arrogant. But the guys made it sound like Miyuki would actually be averse to going head-to-head with Narumiya, when in fact —
“I’m sorry, but I already got an invite from Seido a while ago. I can’t join you guys.” His hand came up to his neck, a sign that showed he was a little uncomfortable being cornered by so many.
“What? Are you being serious right now?”
Narumiya stood up from his crouch. “Seido, huh? They’ve only gone to nationals once since their old coach quit. Compared to what Coach Kunitomo has achieved, Coach Kataoka is just way too green.”
You shifted on your feet, turning your eyes back to Miyuki. He scratched his neck in a shifty movement. It was coming any moment now. “Well, it’s not really about that,” he began. “Inashiro’s a team with a bunch of all-stars like you guys, right? So . . . I want to face you as an opponent.”
Of course. While the others were visibly shocked, you bit back a small smile. You’d seen it coming from a mile away. Sure, Narumiya could probably prepare a team to take nationals on with Miyuki and his other friends, but Miyuki wasn’t like that. He didn’t want the easy out. He wanted to work for it. You recalled his words from first year, after his loss against that second year catcher, Chris.
“How else am I supposed to be the best?” How else, indeed. There would be no better way than to face Inashiro than on a different team, still at a powerhouse school with a competent team where Miyuki would fit right in.
“Are you stupid?”
“Oh, you’re too kind.”
“It’s not a compliment!”
“Kazuya.” Narumiya didn’t look too surprised. Well, you could give him props for trying. “I’m gonna ask you one last time —” and for being so annoyingly persistent as well.
“Sorry. No.” Miyuki didn’t sound too apologetic.
Narumiya looked a bit irritated and his eyes shifted to you. “You’ll regret it, Kazuya. Is it because of her?” He calls you out, by your first name. “Are you going to Seido as well?”
You glared at him. “I don’t remember giving you permission to call me by my first name, Narumiya. And let it go.”
Shirakawa and Kamiya snorted as an affronted look passed over Narumiya’s face. “Hey, you’re always so mean to me —”
You turned your nose up, ignoring him. He didn’t know when to quit.
Most likely in an attempt to defuse the situation, Miyuki took a step back and said his goodbyes, then turned around and guided you away from the park.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” he confessed when you two were a reasonable distance away from the park, well on your way back to your own neighborhood. “But it was a very Mei thing of him to try.”
“Exactly what I thought,” you agreed. “He is right, too, you know. You’d probably be able to take on nationals without any problems.” Miyuki opened his mouth to protest but you elbowed him in the ribs, continuing with a small smile. “But I know. Challenger. I get it. It’s a surprisingly level-headed decision coming from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” You coughed to hide your snickers at the look on his face.
His house was empty as usual, his father most likely next door in the factory working on whatever project that needed to meet its deadline soon. You’d never asked about Miyuki’s mother, but you never had to. You’d seen the picture frame of a handsome, younger Toku Miyuki and a beautiful women standing next to him, a small bundle in her arms, standing in front of the factory. It didn’t take a genius to know that his mother had probably passed when he was younger.
Upon the entrance to his room, you went to his drawer where some casual clothes of yours were kept — purely for practical reasons since he had his own clothes in your dresser, too, along with many sweaters you’d kept. When you came back from the bathroom, he was already sprawled out on his bed, changed into comfortable clothing.
You went to take a seat in his desk chair, but his tired voice stopped you. “Hey, what are you doing? Come here.”
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. You two had slept in the same bed when you were kids every now and then, but it had stopped when you’d gotten older. Well, you had gotten more aware of it every time you had shared a bed — of him right next to you. Evidently, he’d never cared because he had no problem taking a nap whenever he crashed your room.
You climbed over him so you were next to the wall. His bed wasn’t big, only a full-size, so it was enough for you two but no more than that. He stretched, yawning quietly. You hesitantly laid down next to him, facing him with a reasonable amount of space between you two. He turned to face you, blinking sleepily as his face was pressed into the pillow, probably putting the edges of his glasses into his face uncomfortably.
“You’re gonna break your glasses,” you muttered disapprovingly, reaching out to pluck them off his face. He squinted, readjusting to the absence of his glasses as you leaned over him to place them on the nightstand. You made sure that you didn’t touch his body as you did so.
He hummed quietly, drawing up the blanket to his waist. You abstained from it. He radiated enough body heat on his own, plus your internal temperatures were always high when you were in close proximity with him.
“You never said.”
His sleepy voice brought you out of your thoughts. Miyuki was clearly having a hard time staying awake, so you indulged him. “Said what?”
“Where you’re going. When we saw Mei. You didn’t deny it, but you’re not going there, are you?” His eyelids fluttered and you found yourself enraptured with the way his eyelashes just barely ghosted his cheeks. “I’m not going to be mad if you don’t, if that’s what you think.”
You tensed. He scooted closer to you. “I . . . Well, Seido’s a great school, Miyuki.”
His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes finally shutting, but he didn’t drift off. “You’re confusing.”
“What . . .?”
“I don’t want to hold you back from a good school. That’s what you deserve, especially for putting up with me this long —” your heart broke just a little at that admission. Did he think he was a burden to you? “— so I won’t be mad. Just tell me where you’re going.”
“I . . .” I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you why. I’m leaving, not because it’s a good school, but because I need to leave you. I can’t be around you. If I tell you now, I just might back out and go somewhere near you. “I’m still weighing my options, to be truthful.”
He hummed again, a sign he was still listening, so you pushed on. “I got an invitation from Oya, too, in East Tokyo. They’re a public school and they have a good academic program. If I remember correctly, they went to Nationals five years ago.”
“Not bad,” he mumbled. “Make a decision soon, though. I take it that means you’re not going to Seido, then?”
You were surprised that he was still managing to make logical conclusions despite being on the verge of unconsciousness. “Yeah, probably not. It would’ve been great to be with you, though,” you lied. It wouldn’t have been great. You would’ve suffered from your unrequited feelings, having to see him make it big in high school baseball, watching the entire nation fall in love with him.
He nodded, eyes still shut. “That’s okay. Just tell me where you’re going soon, okay.”
“I will.” Another lie. You were on a roll today, weren’t you?
He drifted off after that. You knew when he’d fallen asleep because you could feel the bed dip as he became dead weight, utterly relaxed, his breathing deep and steady. Your eyes roamed his face as you become more relaxed, finding comfort in being so close to him.
That fight had left an unnoticeable scar on his temple, usually hidden by his glasses, then the cut on his lip had healed up finely so there was no trace of it — at that point, your eyes lingered too long on his lips — and the cuts on his knuckles weren’t that noticeable either, probably something he could blame on his gloves.
Your heart stuttered in your chest as he shifted even closer to you. You had nowhere to go, your back pressed against his wall. You sighed quietly, shutting your own eyes to take a nap of your own. Whatever. These last few months were ones you had to treasure because the likelihood that you’d see him during high school was little to none. Really, the chances of him wanting to see you would probably make it even lower.
You fell asleep, weighed down by your decisions and restless for what the future might hold for your friendship with Miyuki.
(Those thoughts really didn’t bother you when you woke up lying on his chest and he had his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You were mortified, though.)
Graduation from your junior high had come and gone with no problems. You were in the top ten, sitting comfortably as number two while Miyuki sat as number ten; you weren’t surprised by his rank, by any means.
You’d avoided packing your own things, too. You would need to be in Kyoto by April 10th. They started the school year much later, for whatever reason, but it just meant that you’d be seeing Miyuki go off on March 28th, three days before the first day of school. And you’d managed to avoid telling him your final decision.
It all seemed to be catching up because the walk to the station was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Miyuki had said his goodbyes to his father and your family, your little brother strangely sad at the disappearance of his “Miyu.” (A nickname that had you rolling in laughter when he’d come up with it and always managed to make Miyuki’s face turn red.)
His train would be leaving in ten minutes. You both sat down on the bench at his platform.
“So,” Miyuki prompted. “Which is it?”
When you looked at him, his eyes were hard. He was irritated. Rightly so. You’d been dancing around your own leave for several months now and here he was, about to leave to Seido and he still didn’t know. You’d briefly contemplated allowing him to stay mad at you. Let him blow up. Perhaps it would give you the shock you needed. But he didn’t deserve that.
You sighed softly, guilt eating away at your insides. “Mimayama.”
You felt him tense up beside you as he made a strangled noise. “In Kyoto?”
You nodded, turning your eyes to the ground. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you clenched your hands into fists, ducking your head lower.
“That’s a good school.” His voice was leveled, cool and indifferent. Somehow, it hurt more than having to hear anger. “They’d be stupid not to accept you.”
You hummed softly.
He sighed shortly. “I don’t — what the hell? Why did you . . . What did you even gain from that?”
There it was. You turned back to look at him, then balked at the hurt on his face. “I . . . didn’t want to worry you.”
“You worried me more by not telling me,” he replied shortly. “That’s so far away.” Are you going to be okay?
That was more than you deserved. You’d been such a shitty friend for the past two years. Here he was, still trying to be a good friend.
You tried for a smile. “It’s not Hokkaido or anything, Miyuki. I’ll be fine. And I’m sorry . . . I just — I didn’t know. I don’t know.”
He stared at you. You met his eyes head on. You had to show him that you’d be fine. This was what you needed. You had the reckless urge to transfer back to a school here in Tokyo, if only to be close to him, but it was muted. Doing this was for the best of your friendship.
“I’m still mad.” Understandable. “And I’m leaving now. Baseball starts up immediately so I won’t have time to talk to you, especially since you’ll probably be busy with school, too. Solving this won’t be as easy as it was when we still lived here, you know.”
Would it even be solved?
“We’ll figure out a way,” you said, despite yourself. Something had changed. Your distance in your friendship had been noticeable. A child could notice. Whether it had been conscious or unconscious was up to debate. Evidently, though, it had hurt Miyuki and that was the last thing you wanted.
. . . Right?
You were moving all the way to Kyoto for the sole purpose of burying those feelings for him. Focusing on school. Rebuilding . . . Rebuilding your friendship. Right, that’d been a priority, too. But could it be done? You’d messed up.
“Well, let’s not spend our last few minutes together arguing or mad at each other.” Miyuki’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. He stood up, holding out a hand for you. You accepted, trying to imprint the feeling of his calluses and the way his palm felt against yours into your mind.
He wouldn’t give up on your friendship, though, would he?
The train pulled in, the draft carrying stray pieces of your hair, hydraulics hissing loudly as it eased to a stop. You were stunned as Miyuki pulled you in for a hug. It was tight, almost painful, but he was so warm and that sweet and spicy scent was overwhelming you in the best possible way that you couldn’t help but hug him back just as tightly.
“Don’t forget about me over there,” he murmured into your ear, warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. You suppressed a shiver.
“I-I won’t.”
He stepped away, sighing softly as the doors unlocked and popped open for the cabin in front of you. He picked up his bag. “I’ll see you later. We’ll talk.”
You nodded. He hesitated to leave, a strange look passing over his face as he fought with himself over something, but then it was gone just as quickly as it had come. He turned away and there was something foreboding about seeing him walk away from you. A cold feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach.
This wouldn’t be the last of him. You’d go to school in Kyoto, get over your feelings and rekindle your friendship with him. Things would get better. They would.
They had to.
Interlude: start
Miyuki wasn’t sure what was going on.
You’d been distant for the last few months, clearly having something on your mind and he’d waited patiently for you to come to him. But you never did.
Instead you sent him off, finally telling him where you were going. To the Kyoto Prefecture, of all places. Was he mad? Yes, and he sort of had a right to be.
He had to wonder. Had all those times he’d pestered you for your answer, had you lied to him? Applying to Mimayama and getting accepted wasn’t a last minute choice. Prestigious schools like that always had application deadlines earlier than other private and public high schools.
So, why hadn’t you told him?
It was something that plagued him for the entire train ride to Kokubunji, even when he made it to Seido High and received his dorm number.
Had you . . . figured it out?
He’d tried his best to hide his feelings and he felt that he’d been largely successful. You’d acted normally as you would and this felt like too much of a secret for you to hide if you knew. You weren’t one to hide what you were thinking, especially when it came to him. But falling in love with your best friend wasn’t normal, was it?
He couldn’t help himself. He’d never say it, but you’d stood beside him for the past six years, you were always so supportive, so patient even when he didn’t deserve it. So how could you even possibly begin to feel the same way? He wouldn’t openly admit this either, but he had more flaws than he had strengths.
Sure, he was . . . conventionally attractive and he was great at catching, but what else was there? It wasn’t like he’d be the type of guy to shower you with gifts or anything. Compared to so many other people, he wasn’t good enough.
He sighed heavily, continuing to unpack his things. His roommates were two third years but they were out, probably practicing. For once in Miyuki’s entire life, he didn’t feel the urge to practice.
Despite himself, despite wanting to give you the benefit of doubt, he wondered, had you attended Mimayama in an attempt to run away? From him?
Immediately, he felt guilty for thinking that way. Mimayama was an excellent school within itself, one you’d thrive in. He couldn’t be so selfish to assume that you’d gone there just to avoid him. You were trying to get a good curriculum. He was trying to get better in baseball. You both had your own agendas.
It wouldn’t be like you to allow your feelings to influence your decisions. Especially when it came to such an important decision.
His previous question came up again. Why wouldn’t you tell him? Were you scared he’d be mad? Or were you trying to protect yourself from something else? Did you think he’d try to convince you to stay?
His frown deepened. Well, that was a good question. Kyoto was so far away . . . If you’d stayed in Tokyo, it would’ve been easier to see you but now that you’d be all the way in Kyoto, the chances of seeing you were slim to none. You’d probably only see each other during winter break.
Regardless of that, though, he was sure he wouldn’t have tried to stop you.
Did a small (or very large if he was truthful) part of him want you to go to Seido with him? Yeah, but things don’t always work out. Friends don’t always get to stay together. Apparently, you had realized that sooner than he did and taken advantage of it.
But your reluctance to tell him was what had gotten on his nerves. He deserved an answer from you. (Right?) One that hadn’t been last minute, one where you two could discuss it. One where he could begin to make plans to see you, arrange methods to talk during the school year. But here he was, sitting on the barren side of the dorm with no real plans to see you again until December, irritated at you.
Until he had a proper answer from you on why you’d done it (because he deserved that too), he’d give you the space you needed to sort out your thoughts.
Besides, come April 10th, there would be three hundred miles between you two. Space would come easily.
Interlude: end
Things seemed to be fine for the first few months. You and Miyuki kept up moderate contact, calling and texting when you were able. There would be odd bouts of absence on his part, something he’d blamed on baseball practice and you could understand. As far as you knew, Miyuki had been able to secure the position as starting catcher with little to no problems. The way he felt about it was a different story.
“Chris . . . He injured his shoulder. He was removed from first string. I took his place.”
You pursed your lips. “That stinks. I’m sorry, Miyuki.”
Going to Seido to get that spot as starting catcher had been Miyuki’s main goal. And he’d already achieved it within three months of being there.
You knew he’d wanted to go toe-to-toe with Chris to properly fight over the spot. It probably didn’t feel too good to have it conceded to you.
“Starting catcher is starting catcher, I guess. There’s nothing I can do about it. Just have to get to Nationals and win.”
“You can do it,” you said, putting as much encouragement into your words as possible. You absently read over your textbook, waiting for his reply.
“So . . . You must have come up with a good reason for not telling me about going to Mimayama, right?”
Surprised, you dropped your pencil, his words catching you off guard. You hadn’t necessarily forgotten about his promise to figure things out between you and you were fully prepared to apologize, but explaining why was an entirely different ordeal.
You had been silent for too long, because he sighed shortly on the other line. “Come on. Did you think I’d be mad? That I’d try to stop you?”
You tried to think, tried to formulate an adequate answer. Would lying save you? Could you continue on in your friendship after lying to him about it?
“I just . . .” You were at a loss for words. You hadn’t expected him to bring this up. But of course, in classic Miyuki fashion, he would want to catch you off guard. Make sure that you wouldn’t be able to lie. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” he scoffed. “It’s not that hard.”
You bristled. “Well, damn Miyuki, you said you wouldn’t have gotten mad and maybe you wouldn’t, but look at you now.”
“I have a right to be mad now,” he replied waspishly. “You lied about it for how long? How many times had I asked you? I know Mimayama has the earlier deadline for applications because it’s a private school. You made this decision and you didn’t tell me about it. I thought we told each other everything. I mean, that’s what best friends do, right?”
“Since when have you ever cared about how other friendships function? You’re only doing this because you’re mad. You’re not thinking straight.”
Miyuki laughed suddenly, in a callous manner he’d never used with you. “I’m not thinking straight? Well, we both know the answer to that,” he sneered. “Me and you are best friends just like anyone else, but now that I have a genuine problem with you lying, suddenly I’m the one who’s needlessly comparing ourselves to other people, right? I’m the wrong one here, yeah?”
“I didn’t say you were,” you disagreed. “It was just — I don’t know. I didn’t tell my family for a long time, too.”
“I get it. It’s a personal decision. But lying to me about it is where I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to!” you snapped, finding yourself fed up with his attitude. “It was . . . a personal decision, just like you said. I had to come to terms with it myself, too, you know.”
It wasn’t a lie, by any means. The day after his fight and after you’d filled out the application, you had stood by the mailbox so long, envelope in hand, the next door neighbor had come out to ask if you were okay.
“You could’ve told me that you’d made a decision. I was worried you’d end up stuck there with how much you were pushing it away. I would’ve respected your boundaries, you know.”
His voice had quieted considerably and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. Did it mean he was calm now? Understanding? Or was his anger and hurt phasing him so much he couldn’t muster the energy to be loud? You hated this. You hated not being able to see his face, being able to gauge what he was feeling. Relying on his tone was getting you nowhere.
“I . . . know.” Maybe it’d been irrational, but your decision had been the one thing he hadn’t known about. You could be so weak when it came to him. If he even knew that you had made a decision, it felt like he already knew where you were going, as though he could see right through you.
You and Miyuki could read each other like the back of your hands, unwillingly or willing. You knew his ticks, his dislikes, his fears, and vice versa. Alongside your feelings, the choice to attend Mimayama had been one of the few things you’d ever kept from him.
“Then why do it? That’s all I’m asking for. That’s it. Just an explanation and we can be done here.” He sounded almost desperate. It was disconcerting. Miyuki Kazuya wasn’t desperate; he didn’t beg. He was above that. But his voice —
You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling shakily. This was too much, it was all too much. You’d regret it later on, maybe, when you finally got your head back on but you couldn’t stand it right now. He couldn’t know.
Under no circumstances could he know that you were in love with him.
“I can’t do it.”
Miyuki was silent, for one, two, three seconds, then —
“I guess we’re done here.”
You tried again. “Miyuki, I — ”
The call ended abruptly as he hung up first, not even sparing you a chance to talk. You stared at your phone. Maybe that was what you deserved, though. You weren’t being the greatest of friends, but you just wished he would let it go. Why was it so important? Did it truly both him that much? Regardless of whatever it was, he wasn’t going to be letting it go anytime soon — that much was apparent.
The abrupt hang-up had hurt a lot more than you thought it would. (You certainly wouldn’t admit it out loud, though.) Miyuki wasn’t exactly the gentlest person and he could be mean, but he’d never been that way with you.
Something told you that this was only a small dose of what he could do, that he wasn’t completely shutting you out. Not yet.
You tossed your phone behind you, not minding the rough thump that came after. You dropped your head onto your textbook, sighing heavily. There was the slightest of stinging behind your eyes, but you shook it off, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. It wouldn’t do well to be crying. Dinner would only be in thirty minutes and you didn’t want to explain to your classmates why it looked like you’d been crying.
You dug into your nails into your palm, the pain relieved you from the burn in your eyes. The urge mercifully passed.
You sat back up, taking a deep breath. This would have to be dealt with later, you promised yourself, turning your eyes back to your textbook in a vain attempt to start your assignment again. All you two needed was space, some time to cool off and regain your bearings. Then, you’d solve this.
You didn’t solve it.
Baseball took up a handful of his time, so when you sent a wary text to him three weeks after your phone call, you didn’t receive a reply back. You then found out that that exact day, Seido had been at a game and had won, qualifying them for quarterfinals. Of course he wasn’t going to reply. He was probably busy basking in that afterglow of victory.
So you let it go.
But then, Seido was eliminated. You got that news from your classmates, a girl who apparently had a cousin attending the opposing school. When you’d asked, she had said proudly, “Inashiro.”
It felt like too much a cruel joke. But when you returned to your dorm and looked up the game, sure enough, Inashiro had won. The game had been four to three. Narumiya was their star — their ace. If you hadn’t had any real reason to dislike him before, you certainly had one now. You sent an apology to Miyuki, trying your best to be comforting.
His reply — albeit cold — had been relieving. Things weren’t as bad as you’d thought they were.
But then he didn’t contact you for the rest of the summer. And that was where the space between you two grew. It wasn’t only physical anymore — he’d stopped contact with you completely.
Summer passed and you descended into autumn, where temperatures dipped and the trees began to lose their leaves.
There was still no contact between you two.
You sent him the occasional message, just a random update about this or that, fooling yourself into thinking that he was just busy. The fall tournament was coming up and if they made it, they’d have a spot at the Spring Invitational. It was another chance for Nationals. But your messages stayed silent, save for the messages coming from your family.
Seido lost during the semifinals at the fall tournament; you sent him a text.
i’m sorry about the fall tournament… you guys played a really good game. text me back when you can.
Maybe he felt your desperation, somehow, through the screen and even though hundreds of miles separating you two.
You sat up abruptly as the little words underneath your message changed from Delivered to Read. You waited, your heart racing in your chest. But no message came.
You tried to rationalize. He’d just lost. Their ticket to Nationals was a pipe dream once again. He wouldn’t be up to talk immediately after, right?
It sounded foolish, even to yourself.
As though your problems with Miyuki weren’t enough, you got into an argument with your mother.
She had apparently believed that once you graduated high school, you’d come back home to work in the family bakery. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
Summer break had been an awkward affair because of it. You had envisioned summer break as time away from working and from the stress of high school, but your mother had other plans.
You were forced to be the cashier, much to your displeasure. Your father had patted your shoulder consolingly, while your older sister told you to stop complaining so much. Your younger brother — already seven-years-old — could only giggle at your predicament while he went to his friend’s house to spend the night. You were almost envious at his freedom.
You had no idea if Miyuki was back in the neighborhood since he wasn’t taking the time to answer your texts. You knew that if he had come back, he had no business to be outside of his house, either, so you decided that you would probably never know.
The fifth day of summer break started bright and early with you on the cash register. It had been slow, though, the heat of the sun discouraging people from walking out and about. The wall-length windows of the bakery did nothing to hide the sun, either, and the air conditioner was mostly focused on the table area rather than behind the counter.
The heat had started to make you sleepy but before you could actually doze off on the job and piss off your mother, the bell above the door rang, signaling a new customer. You straightened up, trying to blink the sleepiness away.
Thankfully, you didn’t have to try too hard, because the newest customer turned out to be Miyuki Toku.
“G-Good morning, sir. What can I get for you today?” Your voice was steady, thankfully.
He stared up at the menu, dark eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed behind his glasses. He was dressed in work clothing, grease staining various spots, a black baseball cap tucked over his hair. It was no wonder Miyuki himself was so handsome. His father was a handsome man for his age, the only sign of his age being the lines around his mouth and forehead, and the slightest hint of grey in dark brown hair and in his stubble.
“Two coffees and three sweet rolls,” he finally said, his eyes flickering to you.
You dropped your eyes, hurriedly ringing up his total and scribbling down the drink order to hang up for your sister to do. His eyes were the exact same shade as Miyuki’s. Of course they were, they were father and son, but it . . . made you miss Miyuki even more.
You handed back the money and grabbed some wax paper to pull out the sweet rolls from the display case of pastries. As you put them into a paper bag and folded it up neatly, he lingered near the pick-up counter. You wanted to ask him if Miyuki was back, but would that give you away? Maybe he already knew of the fight, if Miyuki had told him, but that sounded far-fetched. Miyuki wasn’t that open with his father.
You glanced around the bakery; all the customers were satisfied at the moment and nobody was waiting in line. You glanced back at Miyuki's father. He was looking over the display case with uninterested eyes. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.
“I-Is Miyuki back in the neighborhood?” you asked before you could lose your nerve, handing the paper bag over to him then stepping back behind the cash register, as though it could protect you from any unwanted questions.
He seemed surprised that you were speaking at him, brown eyes widening briefly before he cleared his throat. “No. He’s still at Seido. The coach keeps them for summer break.”
“Oh.”
That sucked, but knowing Miyuki, he was probably using that off-season time to get better.
“Have you been speaking to him?”
Now, you were the one surprised. When you looked back up, he was watching you with scrutinizing eyes. It reminded you so much of Miyuki that you had to avert your eyes. “Not really, sir. We’ve just,” you cleared your throat, “he’s busy. I’m busy. Our schedules don’t line up very well.”
“Mimayama, right?”
You looked back at him, furrowing your eyebrows. How did he know?
“Kazuya told me. That’s a good school,” he paused awkwardly, but before he could continue, your sister called out his order.
He picked it up and lingered in front the counter, shifting awkwardly before finally saying, “Well . . . keep in touch with him.”
You barely had time to get out a ‘have a good day.’ Did he know of your fight? There was no way that Miyuki could’ve told him, right? And if he did, then why was his father so nice? You knew Miyuki wouldn’t mince words and he probably wouldn’t hold back if he was talking about your argument.
“Hey.” You jumped as a wet towel smacked your back. “Stop looking so sad. It turns people off.”
You scowled, turning around to face your older sister with an insult on the tip of your tongue, but it died quickly at the semi-serious expression on her face. You both stared at each other for a few seconds before she slapped the wet towel onto your shoulder again.
“Loser.”
“Shut up!”
It was his birthday. He was officially sixteen-years-old.
You typed out a quick message. Maybe your conversations were beginning to be made up of your outgoing texts and nothing else from him, but you weren’t going to abandon him on his birthday. (Though, a small mocking voice in your head told you he had an entire team to spend his birthday with.)
You’d sent the text and went to put down your phone on your desk, but to your pleasant surprise, it buzzed a few seconds after, signaling a text.
It felt almost too true to be good. You unlocked your phone quickly, fumbling for the messages app. But when you clicked on his name, the message waiting for you wasn’t what you’d expected.
Error 1404. The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. For further inquiries, please contact —
Had he blocked you?
You tried again, but the message continued to pop up in reply to every text you sent.
You stopped trying, the words of the text seeming cold and callous, almost taunting.
Was he this petty? You had never believed him to be petty. Cruel, sometimes, sure, but never petty.
You tried calling. It rang two times before an automated message picked up.
“We’re sorry, but the person you are trying to reach is — ”
You hung up. This couldn’t be a coincidence. But why . . .?
You scrubbed your hands over your face roughly, feeling the familiar burn behind your eyes. Nothing was seeming to go right for you. Sure, you were at a school where you were put to work, but you were fighting with the only friend you had, with your mother about your choices for the future, with yourself over some stupid feelings.
Had it bothered him that much? Was this something to end your friendship over?
Evidently, to Miyuki, it had been.
December and January marked record-breaking lows with surprisingly heavy snowfall. You stayed on campus, burrowing in your room through the beginning of December to study hard for exams. Winter break brought you back home, where your sister had staged an intervention, surprisingly enough.
“What’s the deal with you and Miyuki?” she asked suddenly one day, when you two were in the kitchen at your home, making dinner for that night.
You continued your work, undeterred and unaffected. “What do you mean?” you asked tiredly.
She reached over to swat the back of your head, gaining a glare from you.
“Don’t glare at me, brat. You’ve been all mopey since the summer. I know something is going on,” she huffed, giving you a glare of her own.
You were prepared to shrug her off, turning to her to tell her off, but she was wearing that expression again. The one you’d seen during summer break after your run-in with Miyuki’s father. She looked serious. You hesitated.
You’d been dealing with this all on your own, with no one else to talk to. You definitely didn’t have Miyuki — not that you’d tell him about it, anyway — and certainly not your parents. Your mother would probably disapprove of your feelings since Miyuki wasn’t the type of guy to settle back down in his hometown and your father would disapprove because this was someone after your own heart.
Your sister was the next best thing.
That was how you found yourself telling her about the argument, about his lack of communication, and because you couldn’t avoid it, about your feelings for him.
She remained silent while you spoke, a pensive look on her face. When you finished, you shifted nervously on your feet, glancing at her in the corner of your eye.
“This is because of me, isn’t it?”
You blinked. “What?”
She paused from cutting up a vegetable, laying the knife down on the cooking board and turning to look at you. “What I said to you when you were in junior high. About focusing on yourself and not letting others influence your decisions.”
“I guess . . .” you murmured, agreeing reluctantly because you didn’t want her to blame herself for it. Luckily, that wasn’t what happened.
“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, grabbing the dish towel and hitting your shoulder with it. She tossed it back onto the counter before turning to you. “An absolute idiot.”
“What the hell — ”
“You played yourself, kid! I get it. These feelings are scary and new but running to Kyoto is not the answer!” she hissed urgently, looking annoyed.
Your hackles were raised. “You literally said — ”
“I know what I said, you fool! You had good intentions, but look where that got you.”
You winced. That was fair.
She groaned loudly. “Did it ever occur to you that you were letting your feelings influence your decision when you decided to go to Mimayama?”
You stared at her, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“For as smart of a kid you are, you’re kinda dumb when it comes to feelings.”
You scowled at her. “Feelings are dumb! It’s easier to memorize algebra equations than it is to handle what I’m feeling!”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Listen to me. I understand that you thought putting distance between you two and lying to him about your choice would help, but you were blinded by your own feelings. In your desperation to forget, you made a rash decision. I know Mimayama is a good school and worrying about your education is worthwhile, but are you even happy there?”
You stilled. “Happy?”
“You’re hopeless!” she bemoaned.
“Hey, it was your advice! Don’t get mad at me,” you protested, unwilling to take all the blame for this.
She grimaced. “Fine. I’ll take half. But it’s redacted as soon as we fix this.”
You balked. “Fix this? No, there will be no fixing here. I’m going to suffer the consequences of my actions — and partially yours — for the rest of high school and that’s it.”
“You don’t even know if he feels the same,” she pointed out.
“He doesn’t,” you said firmly. “Why would he? After everything I’ve messed up on, I refuse to let him know. It’ll only make things worse.”
“It’s called taking a risk,” she muttered, finally turning back to finish chopping up the vegetables. “You won’t know if you don’t try.”
“We’re not even talking to each other anymore. I think,” you grimaced. “I think he blocked me.”
She paused mid-slice. “I’m going to murder that boy.”
“No, you will not!”
“This is better than homicide,” your sister muttered gleefully as you two watched your mother wrap up a plate of food. “So much better.”
Your mother faltered in her actions briefly, having heard your sister’s words, then resumed quickly. She was probably used to it.
Your little brother was waiting impatiently by the door, some action figure grasped in his tiny hands.
“One of you take that to the Miyuki’s. It’s a holiday gift. Dress appropriately!” With that, she left the house, your younger brother following after her, the door shutting firmly behind them.
“I’m not taking that,” you said immediately after. It’d been several days since you had told her about your problem and she hadn’t brought it up since. Maybe for good reason, too. You had time to think over what she said.
Her question about whether or not you were even happy at Mimayama was . . . conflicting, as much as you hated to admit it. What did it matter if you didn’t like it? It was a good school, one that would boost you ahead. It was giving you experience in the medical field, experience you couldn’t receive at a regular high school.
But at the same time, there were regular high school experiences that you were missing out on. Mimayama rarely had dances or anything of the sort, typically hosting an end-of-the-year banquet for the third years to congratulate them on their progress, but that was the extent of their dances. They had no sports programs, save for a volleyball team that was in sore need of motivated players and a better coach. All the students were always so competitive, constantly fighting for the top rank, making passive aggressive comments about grades. It was tiring.
It also made you think. Had Mimayama been the best choice?
“You don’t even know if he’s back,” she countered, drawing you out of your revere. “Pretty sure all the sports teams had one week less of winter break than regular students.”
“I don’t care. I’m not — ”
You stopped as you heard voices outside. It was your mother, very distantly. She was saying something, but the words were muffled by the door.
Your sister pushed you away to go towards the front window that overlooked the yard, peeking through the curtains. She gasped, making you take a wary step forward, but before you could ask her, she was turning around, grabbing your wrist and dragging you upstairs. You allowed her, figuring it was a lost cause to try and stop her.
“What’s going on?” you grumbled. She turned into your parents’ room, yanking you over to the window that overlooked the street.
You both kneeled on the ground under the window and she pointed up at it, grinning.
“He’s here,” she said in a sing-song voice that made you want to cover your ears.
You cautiously looked out the window, at first finding nothing to look at, but then your eyes latched onto the figure currently taking his bags out of a taxi’s trunk. Your heart kickstarted in your chest. Miyuki.
It was a bit far away, but you could recognize him anywhere. He looked taller, lean with muscles he didn’t have before. His skin looked tanner, too, no doubt from all the time he’d have spent in the sun. He was dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, looking far too good for someone who probably just threw that on without giving it any thought.
You dug your nails into the windowsill. A small, childish part of you wanted to run downstairs and out the door to tackle him into a hug. You were craving the feeling of his arms around you and feel his usual tight, almost vice-like, grip. You bit down on your lip.
“You look like a love-struck fool,” your sister whispered, sounding awed. You shoved her, making her wobble precariously from her crouch, then fall over, hitting the ground with a loud thump.
You continued to stare out the window, and you were grateful for your hyper-fixation on him, because you were able to catch the slight movement of him turning his head towards your house. You fell away from the window, the curtains fluttering back to their place.
“What?” your sister grumbled, rubbing her elbow. “That hurt, you know.”
“I don’t care,” you muttered. “He looked. If he saw me, I’m going to die.”
She scoffed. “Don’t be so dramatic.” She laid down on her side, propping up her cheek with her hand, shooting you a cheeky grin. “So? You wanna give them the food, now?”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? Why not?”
You shot her an irritated side glance. “Seeing him doesn’t make me want to ‘try things out,’ as you say. What part of ‘we’re not talking anymore’ do you not understand?”
She scowled. “So, you’re giving up?”
You looked away. “I guess so.”
It was silent for a few seconds before she huffed quietly. “Well, I’m not. Stay here. I’m gonna give them the food. When you hear the door close, look out the window, but stay hidden.”
You stared at her as she got to her feet and left the room. This . . . couldn’t be good.
Nonetheless, when you heard the door shut from downstairs, you peeked out the window again. You caught sight of her walking down the sidewalk, her jacket and beanie on to fight against the freezing cold, the dish cradled in her arms. At that point, the taxi was gone and you suspected Miyuki had retreated into the warmth of his home.
When she walked up to the house and rang the doorbell, she sent a furtive glance to you, making brief eye contact before turning back forward. The door opened and she looked surprised for a split-second before schooling her expression into one of ease. You squinted, trying to make out who she was talking to.
She took a half-step back and you finally saw that it was Miyuki who’d answered the door; he leaned out of the house, nodding and saying a few things before accepting the dish with a gracious bow. Your sister returned it and turned around, walking back towards the house.
You dropped away from the window, making sure to fix the curtains carefully this time, then dashed out of the room and down the stairs. You didn’t have to wait more than thirty seconds before she was entering the house again, letting in a burst of icy air. Once she had locked the door and began taking off her shoes, jacket and beanie, you cleared your throat.
“Well?”
She looked at you, grim, and you prepared yourself for bad news, but then she said, “He’s cuter than I remember him being.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear.”
She shrugged. “You two would be cute together. His looks cancel out any ugliness you have.”
“Again. That’s not what I wanted to hear.”
She sighed. “What do you want to hear, kid? I don’t know . . . He seems more mature now. Are you two really fighting about this as bad as you say?”
You glared at her, irritated that she was doubting your words just because he seemed ‘more mature.’ “I have no reason to lie. It’s not like you’ve ever liked him that much, anyway.”
“That’s true,” she murmured. “But he made you happy, so that was all that mattered to me. He’s not doing that for you anymore.”
You toed the edge of the carpet with your foot, avoiding her eyes.
“If you’re truly incessant on not making up with him, then find something that makes you happy,” she continued. When you glanced at her, she looked serious again. You decided you didn’t like that look on her face. She coughed.
“If not, I refuse to see your mopey face around here.”
“Comfort me or insult me! Pick one, dammit!”
As much as you hated to admit it, your sister had a point.
So when you returned to school, you tried to find something that made you happy. Either an end goal, or even another friend.
You found that continuously telling yourself to find something made things a little bit better. You didn’t think about the absence Miyuki had left you. You thought about ways to raise your grade or make the other kids mad about your success.
You even found a friend — a quiet girl in your class who was pretty low in the class rank named Arakawa Akemi. You didn’t care about the rank stuff too much. (Only when it could be used to make your snobby classmates angry.) If anything, had she been in a regular high school, she probably would’ve been top of the class.
So, your first year ended with a secure friendship and excellent grades. Your relationship with your mother had gotten better, mostly because of the shining commentary that all your teachers had about you and your behavior during the afterparty of the third years’ graduation ceremony, where students, families and parents mingled. Your sister was annoying as ever — though a bit proud — and your brother was merely happy about seeing you again.
You knew, when your second year started up in full force, that your friendship with Miyuki was gone at this point. He hadn’t seen you at all during winter break and didn’t make an attempt to contact you at all. You hardly ever saw his father, so you couldn’t ask him about it, either.
You were sad at this realization. Almost seven years of friendship flushed down the drain. And the worst part was that your feelings hadn’t even faded with that.
After the Spring Invitational, Miyuki had gotten . . . famous. He was known nationally, media calling him the ‘catcher of his generation.’ Known for his aggressive plays, people loved him. When you’d seen the magazine with an article about him in it, you were proud.
Despite his lack of communication, you were still proud that he was doing what he loved. And he was good at it. You could never be angry about him doing well in what he loved.
When you’d seen his picture in the magazine, your heart still beat like crazy and your stomach still did flips. You hated it.
Even without almost a year of no contact, you were still infatuated with him.
You found yourself busier than you’d anticipated when second year started up again. You were required to put in volunteer hours at a hospital, so you’d found yourself preoccupied not only with homework, but work from the hospital as well.
The busy schedule was good; it helped you keep your mind off things, especially when the Summer Tournament started up and Seido blazed through the first rounds, then qualified for the quarterfinals. They were constantly making news articles, something or another about their new first year pitchers that were blowing competition away; usually those articles had companion editorials about Miyuki and how quickly he was improving. You tended to stay away from those.
You felt guilty for avoiding the games as much as you did, but at that point, there was no real need for you to keep up. It wasn’t like Miyuki would be calling you afterward to ask for your opinion on it.
The way you saw it was that if there was no Miyuki, then there was no need for baseball, either.
Unfortunately for you, however, your classmates happened to be avid baseball fans, so when you came to class the Monday after the weekend of the finals, you weren’t surprised to hear them talking about it.
“ . . . what messed up their game.”
“Yeah, after that deadball, there was no way they were getting their momentum back.”
“It’s all that first year pitcher’s fault. Sawamura, right? If he hasn’t fallen apart, maybe they would’ve been able to continue.”
You listened curiously, only brought out by a nudge to the arm. Akemi was giving you serious side-eye. “You could look it up, you know, or even ask,” she murmured.
“Look what up?”
She elbowed you again.
You sighed, leaning forward to tap on the shoulder of your classmate sitting in front of you. He turned around, his eyes widening at seeing you interact with him.
You gave him a polite smile. “Are you guys talking about the finals of the summer tournament for West Tokyo?”
“Yeah. Between Seido and Inashiro.”
You sat up straighter. You hadn’t realized that it’d be between them, but of course, it made sense for them to be the finalists. Two of the three baseball powerhouses in West Tokyo.
A queasy feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach, but you pushed on.
“Who won?”
“Inashiro. Their ace, Narumiya Mei, was a complete monster but honestly that first year pitcher — Furuya, right? — was insane . . .”
You sat back, staring at the plastic of your table. Akemi hummed softly and leaned to show you her phone. It was an article, presumably on the game. You read the headline.
Seido loses to Inashiro by 4-5
The article was detailed, filled with baseball jargon that you didn’t bother trying to decipher. You latched onto a few pieces of important information; Seido batters unable to get a hit off Narumiya for the majority of the game, the deadball by that first year pitcher Sawamura Eijun in the bottom of the ninth inning and Seido’s ultimate loss. You sighed heavily.
“Great.”
Akemi shut off her phone, watching you carefully. “That’s it?” she asked quietly.
You’d told her about everything that had happened between you and Miyuki. Mostly as a precursory warning that apparently, you could be dumb when it came to your friendships; you’d try to be better with her, but fair warning and all that. Though, you had to give credit to yourself, since your errors were really because of your feelings and while Akemi was pretty and very kind to boot, Miyuki still held your heart.
But that was it.
You shrugged, pointedly looking away from her. “What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can talk to him anymore.”
Akemi said nothing else on the matter, looking forward when the teacher entered and started up class. And you didn’t bring it up again, either. But you still had to sit through the excited murmurs of your classmates, biting down the urge to defend Seido whenever someone would badmouth the team for whatever reason. (At that point, you were irritated with yourself. You didn’t even know anyone on the team except for Miyuki. Why should you feel the need to defend them?)
The majority of summer break — wherein you stayed at school for extra classes — was filled with talk of Nationals, mostly about Inashiro blowing through the rounds until the finals, where they ended up as runner-up. For the half of the last week of break, you headed back to Tokyo, where you visited your family and managed to avoid working in the bakery under the guise of needing to study (which you actually did need to do).
You knew Miyuki wouldn’t have been back, probably training with the rest of his teammates. When you passed his house on your way to another café to study at (since you’d probably be roped into doing some form of work if you went to your own), you pointedly avoided looking at his home and the factory.
It was time for you to move on.
Despite your best efforts to hide behind the menu, Narumiya’s face lit up upon recognizing you.
He grinned brightly; there was less baby fat on his face than you remember. He looked taller, too, adding to his maturity.
He calls you out — by your surname, thankfully. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle if he called you by your first name. You’d probably walk straight out of the café . . .
“It’s so good to see you! How are you?”
You sunk in your chair as other customers glanced at you, irritated. Narumiya was unbothered by their glares, taking a seat across from you even though you hadn’t invited him to do so. He was just as annoying now as he’d been two years ago.
“I didn’t say you could sit down,” you said, annoyed.
“We need to catch up!”
“We don’t.”
He grinned. “Have you gotten meaner over the last few years?”
Your grip tightened on the menu briefly, but you took a deep breath, turning your eyes back to its contents. You would ignore him for however long you needed. He would get the message sooner or later.
“Are you meeting Kazuya here? I’ll wait with you. Maybe he and I can catch up, too.”
“No,” you replied stiffly. “I’m here to study in some peace and quiet.”
You looked at Narumiya over the top of the menu, then glanced pointedly at your bag sitting in the third seat between you two. He followed your gaze and made a small noise of dissatisfaction.
“How boring. Do you keep up with him?”
You studiously ignored him, turning the page of the menu.
“Is that a no, then?”
You continued to ignore him.
He huffed petulantly. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re still mad about what I said? I was some annoying first year brat in junior high. I’ve changed.”
You looked over the menu again, eyebrow raised in doubt.
“I have!” he protested.
You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Can you please leave now? I need to study.”
“Study for what?” he frowned, then. “What school do you go to? Shouldn’t you be on break?”
“You’re asking too many questions.”
“Then sate my curiosity and answer them!”
You huffed this time, finally surrendering to your fate. “Fine. I’m going to Mimayama right now and I took extra class over summer break. We always have homework.”
“Mimayama, huh?” Narumiya looked at you closely. “All the way in Kyoto?”
“Yes.” You turned back to the menu, but your head was beginning to ache from switching between squinting to read the small text and looking up to Narumiya. Or maybe that was just Narumiya . . .
“Is that why you and Kazuya haven’t been talking?”
“I didn’t say anything about that,” you said, feeling a frown form on your lips. “It’s none of your business, anyway.”
“Come on! When’s the next time we’re gonna see each other?”
“Never, hopefully.”
He pouted. “You don’t mean that. Come on! Tell me about it. Who would I even tell?”
“Your friends. Your sisters. Miyuki.”
Narumiya laughed, but it sounded forced. “As if I still talk to him too.”
You looked at him this time and he had a bitter smile on his lips. He suddenly looked tired — worn out. You couldn’t imagine from what, though.
His smile tightened. “You’re not the only one with problems.”
You pursed your lips. “Evidently. If you listen, I’ll listen too.”
He frowned, looking away, clearly not liking the prospect of airing out his vulnerabilities.
“It’s a fair exchange,” you added before he could refuse. “And I’m the last person to judge, if that’s what you’re worried about. I wouldn’t judge even you, Narumiya.”
He grumbled. “At least call me Mei.”
You did your best to offer advice but he waved you off.
“I’m doing it because it was fair and I needed to vent. Don’t worry about me. I’ll deal with it.”
You eyed him disbelievingly. “I have no problem helping you, either . . .”
Another lazy wave of the hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. I’m fine. Now, what’s the deal with you and Kazuya?”
Mei leaned forward, unabashedly stealing a fry from your plate. You two had ordered your meals before Mei dove into his problems concerning pitching, the team, and the first year catcher he had to deal with now.
You listened intently, finding yourself sympathizing with him, much to your own surprise. You knew, rationally, Mei had his own problems — of course, he was only human — but for him to be this open, you appreciated it. It made you feel at ease. Maybe Mei wasn’t as bad as you’d painted him to be.
You pushed your plate to him, appetite having disappeared, but he pushed it back toward you, pointing at the food with an intense expression on his face. “Eat.”
“I can’t talk and eat at the same time,” you pointed out.
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing you with narrowed eyes. “You can take breaks and eat.”
“Is the famous Narumiya Mei worried about me?”
“Never mind, you can starve!”
You smiled slightly and launched in your story, punctuated with breaks to eat or drink some water. Mei listened to all that you had to say, only interrupting to ask a question to prompt more details. He didn’t seem to judge, but you couldn’t tell for sure; his facial expression stayed composed throughout your talk.
When you finished, you found yourself suddenly conscious of his eyes on you. You squirmed a little in your seat, poking tentatively at the cold fries on your plate. You looked back up when he sighed, slouching in his seat.
“We both can’t catch a break, can we?”
You snorted. “No kidding.”
“If it makes you feel any better, if I was in your place, I might’ve done the same thing. I mean it’s not the right choice, but solidarity or whatever.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, evading your glare. “It’s fine. We can actually do something about your problem.”
“You know, we can also do something for you too — ”
He waved you off. “I’ll deal with it eventually. But you . . . We can do something here.”
You didn’t like the look on his face, the conspiratorial smile on his lips beginning to grow as you shook your head. “N-No, definitely not. Besides, why would you want to help me? I’ve been pretty mean to you these past years . . .”
Mei shrugged. “That’s how most of my friendships start.”
You sighed. “Regardless, I’m not — we’re not doing anything about it. I just told you to vent. We’re finished with that.”
“You’re giving up, then?” he asked, unintentionally echoing your sister’s question from last year.
“I . . .” You frowned. “If it’ll save me the heartbreak, then I guess so. He’s not even — not even talking to me, Mei. His message is loud and clear.”
“Well, he’s dumb. You and I both know that. Why should you listen to him? You have to try.”
“I can’t.”
“You don’t want to,” he corrected. “What do you have to lose? Your friendship is already in shambles, you’re going to school all the way in Kyoto so you won’t have to see him if it goes rotten and it’s not like you two live that close. Maybe telling him will fix things.”
“And what if it makes it worse?” you asked sharply. “I’d rather we leave it like this.”
“Assuming for one moment that he doesn’t feel the same — ”
“He doesn’t.”
Mei ignored you. “ — then telling him will yield the same ending to your friendship as it did before. Except now it’ll be official. It’s a better way to break things off, anyway.”
“I have no business to mess his life up like that,” you said stubbornly.
“You want to reconcile, don’t you?” He suddenly asked, scrutinizing you.
“What?”
“Reconcile with Kazuya. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But it’s not that easy. He’s going to want an explanation and he can be cruel. He’d probably make you choose between him and not explaining.”
You avoided Mei’s eyes. He was right. Miyuki wouldn’t accept you with open arms. He’d be affronted and demand an explanation. Rightfully so.
“So, what? I don’t tell him and we break things off or I do tell him and my feelings aren’t reciprocated so he breaks things off all the same to save us from the awkwardness?”
“Or you somehow manage to reconcile but still keep it to yourself. It’s unlikely, though. I wouldn’t be surprised if this bothered Miyuki. You’d probably do him a favor if you told him,” Mei finished, lacing his fingers together on the table.
“A favor,” you snorted disbelievingly.
“Now,” Mei continued, ignoring your tone, “let’s say he does have feelings for you. Which he does. Honestly, did you see the way he’d look at you when we were in junior high? It was gross.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mei rolled his eyes. “Because you’re just that unattractive or what?”
You shifted, uncomfortable. “I don’t deserve him.”
“Shut up.”
You blanched. “You — ”
“You and Kazuya are perfect for each other. That sounds like something he’d say about you, too. I’m not here to listen to you depreciate yourself. I’m here to help.”
You softened as he aimed a displeased frown at you. “Thanks, Mei,” you said, truly meaning it.
“You’re welcome. I’m great, aren’t I?” he preened, a happy grin replacing the frown. “Now, assuming he liked you — which he does — he’d want to know if you felt the same. So, telling him maximizes the possibility of reconciling your friendship. Plus, maybe you get a boyfriend out of it, too.”
“Boyfriend!”
“Obviously. That tends to be what happens when two people like each other.”
“Don’t get sarcastic with me, Narumiya Mei!”
Mei’s words left a significant mark on you.
You left the cafe thinking over the possibilities (sparing no thought to the homework that hadn’t been completed). But the thought of confessing seemed . . . strange. Could you be so forward to actually go after Miyuki and tell him? He’d probably avoid you as much as he could.
You weren’t looking to make a fool out of yourself, either, so you certainly didn’t want to try going to Seido. Going to his house and cornering him there seemed to be your best option, but the next break where he’d be home was Christmas and that was four months away. That was okay; there was plenty of time to work things out.
But it also gave you time to back out.
You chose not to discuss this with Akemi, knowing she’d encourage you to tell him as well. For now, you just wanted to make your own decision without outside influences (excluding Mei since you’d made the unfortunate decision of giving him your LINE account).
The rest of August was split between school, Akemi, Mei and your deliberations. Mei constantly kept you updated on the start of the fall tournament, finding every chance to talk about Miyuki — which led to Mei’s usual declaration of taking Nationals next summer. You continued to mull over the decision of telling Miyuki, always finding yourself becoming anxious at the notion of facing him again.
At the same time, you missed Miyuki. If things didn’t go well, at least you’d spoken to him one last time.
It was a decision that demanded great thought. No one was going to have a part in influencing your choice (not even Mei). You couldn’t half-ass it or do it on the fly. You needed to have some organization when it came to deciding.
The call was what threw your entire plan off its axis.
You’d been in the middle of composing a text to Mei, demanding to hang out since he’d seemingly dropped off the face of the earth following Inashiro’s loss to Ugumori. You knew it had to do with those problems he’d told you about in August and you weren’t going to let him deal with it alone.
It was almost funny how much your friendship with Mei had grown in such a short time. While he could be unruly, irritating and arrogant, he seemed to have a softer side when it came to you, toning down his need to get a rise out of someone. It reminded you of Miyuki, but you shelved that thought quickly. It was a comparison that had no reason to exist.
Dutifully ignoring the review for your English class on your desk, you’d been in the middle of typing out a word when your screen changed from the conversation between you and Mei to the call screen. You eyed the number warily. It was from Tokyo, but it wasn’t one you recognized. Your thumb hovered over the decline button but you huffed and answered it. If it was a telemarketer, you could nip them in the bud right now before they got the idea to call you back.
“Hello?”
“Er, is this — ?” The voice on the other line proceeded to give out your full name.
“Yes, this is. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”
“Uh . . .” Another person on the other end said something, but it was too quick for you to grab onto. “I know that, Zono! Shut up!”
Your frown deepened. “I’m . . . hanging up now.”
You went to pull away but the guy spoke again, hurriedly. “No, no, hold on! My name is Kuramochi Yoichi, I’m the shortstop for Seido’s baseball team.”
What the hell was a player from Seido doing you? You glanced at the calendar mounted in front of you, finding the words Seido vs. Yakushi final @ 1 marked down for today. So, the game must’ve been over then. Didn’t these boys have better things to be doing right now?
“How’d you get my number? And what’s the reason for calling me?” you asked, trying to sound as polite as possible. You were a bit irritated, though.
“You know Miyuki, right? Miyuki Kazuya?”
“Unfortunately.”
Kuramochi coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Right. Well, he sort of mentioned you today, before we went to the hospital, so I figured I should give you a call — ”
“Hospital?” you interrupted sharply. “Why are you going to a hospital? Did something happen? Was he injured?”
“Eh, he was but it’s not too serious. I think. So, yeah, he said to not call you otherwise you’d ‘kick his ass for getting hurt’ so I thought why not? Let him suffer a little bit for trying to hide his injury.” Kuramochi sounded nonchalant about the entire thing, so maybe it was okay, but you were still confused.
“Explain.”
“He was tackled at the plate by a pitcher from Seiko High in our semifinals and trust me, he wouldn’t have said anything unless someone else had noticed. I’m not sure if anyone else noticed, but if they did, they didn’t say anything. I told him . . . Well, I told him not to fall apart until after we’d won,” Kuramochi admitted sheepishly. You pursed your lips in disapproval.
“If he showed any sign of bringing the team down, I’d tell the coach but he didn’t for the most part. Unfortunately, another one our teammates noticed and brought everyone’s attention to it so the coach knew by the middle of the game.”
“Did he continue to play? Or was he benched?”
“No, he played the entire game. Miyuki’s our cleanup, too, so it wasn’t a bad move — ”
“Are you discounting the fact that he struck out a few times?” the other guy on the other end of the line asked.
“Shut it,” Kuramochi snapped. “It was better for our team morale, too. That bastard is aggressive. We might not have won if he’d been benched.” Then he coughed, seeming to suddenly realize that he’d called Miyuki a bastard with you listening. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” you muttered tiredly, rubbing your temples to stave off the incoming headache. “So, what? He was taken to the hospital?”
“Yeah. We got here like fifteen minutes ago. He was . . . pretty out of it. Probably from the pain. We’re waiting for him right now. But, uh, I guess I called to see if you’d like to come and see him. Don’t worry about his father, I know someone else took care of that already.”
“Where are you guys?” you asked, more out of curiosity than anything.
“Tokyo General.”
“And how did you get my number again?”
“Miyuki’s phone.”
Kuramochi must’ve copied the number from Miyuki’s and into his own. You were surprised that Miyuki had even kept it. You sighed heavily, turning back to the conversation. “You do realize we don’t even talk anymore, right? Has he even told you about me?”
Kuramochi was silent for a few seconds. “Not really, but he’s always closed off. I did notice the lack of conversation for you on his messages, though. I don’t know, I just thought I’d tell you. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to see him, but as soon as we get his room number, I’ll text you from this number.”
“That sounds fine. Thanks, I guess.”
“No problem. Sorry for bothering you, though.” He hung up quickly before you could reply. You dropped your hand holding the phone into your lap, staring at the calendar. You had two finals this coming Monday and you needed to study. But was this your chance?
The way that Kuramochi has phrased it . . . It sounded like Miyuki was joking about it. In his pain-induced haze, had he forgotten about the ruins of your friendship and joked about you? Or was he conscious about what he’d been saying?
It was all so confusing.
You gritted your teeth at the oncoming headache and stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. You packed up your notebooks that you needed for studying, grabbing your wallet as well. A quick search told you that the next train to downtown Tokyo would leave in thirty minutes. You bought your ticket, sending a silent mental apology to your father who’d see the purchase and probably freak out.
The dormitory wasn’t too lively, meaning you could make your escape unnoticed. You notified the resident assistant of your leave — one of the teachers for your year — and she let you off without much problems, only stressing for you to be back before curfew tomorrow. After boarding the train with no problems and sending Akemi a message about your impromptu leave, you dove into your studies but found that you couldn’t concentrate. You had too many worries, too many thoughts.
This was going to go very well or very horribly.
After the three-hour train ride from Kyoto to Tokyo, you arrived at the hospital at six. You had met Kuramochi in the lobby of the hospital and he led you to the in-patient wing.
Kuramochi was an interesting individual. He was stiff, overly-polite in a way that said he was trying too hard. He probably felt uncomfortable actually seeing you in person.
“Does he have to stay overnight?” You asked, fingers tightening over the strap of your bag. When studying had escaped you, you obsessed over what sort of injury he could have. Was it sprained ribs? Had he torn a muscle? Or was this worse?
“Eh, only one night. He kicked up a fuss about it but we pointed out that he’d fainted from the pain. Better safe than sorry,” he explained as you two stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for the second floor.
You looked at him sharply. “He fainted?”
Kuramochi grimaced and nodded. “Like I said, he was pretty out of it. He’s fine now. Conscious and all that.”
“What about his father?”
Kuramochi reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Said he’d come tomorrow.”
You sighed softly. Yeah, that sounded like him.
There was a soft ding as the doors slid open, Kuramochi stepping out and briskly leading the way. His cleats were loud against the tiled floor, disturbing the quiet environment of the second floor. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.
You made it to a room but just as he’d lifted a hand to pull the door knob, you stopped him.
“Wait.”
He looked questioningly at you, his hand paused in the air. “What?”
“I don’t think this was a good idea . . .” You fidgeted with the strap of your bag, swallowing thickly. Your heart was beating like a drum in your chest and you had the ridiculous thought that everybody could hear how loudly it was beating.
Kuramochi scanned your face and he became serious, seeming to sense that you were genuinely doubting yourself.
“Whatever happened between you two,” he said, hushed. “It’s fine.”
“It was my fault,” you mumbled. “Why we stopped talking.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. But I don’t know your story. Listen,” you looked at him, finding him meet your eyes earnestly. “Now is the best time to fix it. Whether it goes well or not, I don’t know. But at least you tried, right?”
What do you have to lose?
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “You’re right.”
“You look like you’re about to throw up.”
“Thanks.”
Kuramochi stared at you, then nodded to himself, as though he’d just realized something. “It makes sense now,” he mumbled under his breath, making you frown.
“What — ”
He opened the door before you could ask what he’d meant and you instinctively jumped behind him as several voices floated out of the room.
“Ah, Kuramochi. Is everything okay?” a woman asked.
“Yeah. Just had to pick up one of Miyuki’s visitors,” he replied, staying in the doorway, probably sensing you hiding behind him.
“Is it — ?” another voice asked, sounding like the one you’d heard on the phone.
Kuramochi didn’t respond, simply stepping into the room, leaving you standing in the doorway for everyone to see.
There was only another guy your age in there and he looked utterly panicked at your presence. There was an intimidating man as well, dressed in the Seido baseball uniform — the coach presumably — and then a woman standing next to him, dressed in formal clothes. You turned your eyes to the hospital bed, but instead of meeting those familiar brown eyes, you were met with his bowed head, his eyes averted to his legs. You noticed his clenched fists on his lap and felt your heart drop to your stomach. He was angry.
You bit your lip then bowed to the two adults, introducing yourself, “I’m an . . . old friend.”
The two adults looked at Miyuki for confirmation. The air was uncomfortably tense. You saw him sigh minutely before he nodded.
With his confirmation that you weren’t some stranger trying to sneak in, they introduced themselves as the coach and scout of Seido; the other guy introduced himself as the Zono you’d heard from the phone before. You accepted them politely, but a stifling silence ensued afterward.
You snuck glances at Miyuki in the corner of your eye. He had raised his head, but his eyes remained on the white wall in front of him, eyebrows furrowed.
“Well, we should head out, then. Miyuki, will you be okay here?” Takashima asked, turning to look at him.
“I’m fine.”
His voice had dropped since junior high, but he still sounded the same. Just like the Miyuki you once knew. Except he sounded tired. You felt guilt bubble in the pit of your stomach, knowing you were probably going to stress him about more.
One by one, they all exited the room. Kuramochi had hissed something to Miyuki before he left, sending you a nod of solitude. When the door finally shut, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You shifted on your feet awkwardly. The silence was absolutely unnerving. You briefly considered just fleeing and never coming back, but that would be too cruel. Why should you show up abruptly then leave just as suddenly?
Yet, Miyuki still hadn’t spoken.
You took a deep breath, ignoring the racing of your heart, preparing to say something — anything.
Miyuki beat you to it. “Why are you here?”
Hurt pierced your heart. You faltered at the cold tone in his voice, the apathy, the indifference. Miyuki raised his head to look at you and any remnants of a response flew out of your head. He had matured, baby fat disappearing from his face and leaving someone else behind. Miyuki had grown into his looks. Those familiar brown eyes that had often glowed with mirth were hard, almost unrecognizable, burning into you with searing intensity.
You fidgeted with the strap of your bag, dropping your eyes to the floor. “Kuramochi called me. Said you were here so I — ”
“You thought you could come and visit like we were ‘old friends?’” Miyuki finished for you callously.
You dropped your head, trying not to let his words affect you. He was angry and Miyuki never spared his words much thought when he was angry. You certainly deserved his ire, anyhow. You’d been such a shitty friend.
You took a deep breath. “Not really. I know I haven’t been a good friend to you. I just thought . . . I don’t know. I thought you deserved to finally hear an explanation from me, but like I said before, it . . . might not be something you want to hear.”
Miyuki didn’t say anything else, turning to look at the window. You took that as your cue to continue, dragging a chair over to his bedside. You managed a reasonable distance away from the bed, dropping your bag onto the floor with a sigh.
“It’s taken far too long for me to explain myself. I understand if, even if you know, you’ll want to go our separate ways, though my explanation sort of ensures that you probably won’t want to talk to me, anyways.” You glanced up at him and he was still looking out the window, but his eyebrows were furrowed now. He was troubled.
You pushed on, dropping your eyes to your lap. “My reasons weren’t entirely for educational purposes, but I think you’ve picked up on that already, right? It was . . . Well, it was partially because of my sister’s advice, I guess. She didn’t say to leave because of you or anything, just that I had to prioritize my education when it came to picking a high school.”
You’d raised your eyes to his face and saw him raise his shoulders, the furrow of his eyebrows deepening in a way that told you he was ready to protest. You continued speaking before he could. “Seido is a great school. Looking back on it now, it probably would’ve benefitted me as much as Mimayama has. Plus,” you dropped your eyes back to your lap. “You would’ve been there, too.”
“What’s your point?”
You flinched at the sharpness of his voice. It cut deeply, making you feel small and insignificant. Still, you ventured further.
“That was the problem,” you mumbled. “You’d be there and I’d be with you. She — my sister — said not to let my feelings influence my decision. At this point, I’ve clearly missed the mark that she was aiming for. I just,” you paused, leaning forward to brace your elbows on your knees, rubbing your forehead tiredly. Your heart felt like it was going to break free from your ribs.
“I wanted to go to Seido with you. But if I did, I would’ve picked that school because I was in love with you. So, I went to Mimayama because I thought that by leaving, I could get rid of these feelings and we could continue to be friends.”
Finally saying it felt so relieving, like the pressure on your chest had lifted and you could breathe freely. The constraints of your secret were gone. But that left you to deal with the aftermath.
You didn’t raise your head as the silence seemed to echo, broken only by the occasional voice outside the room and the ticking of the clock. Miyuki still hadn’t said anything.
Your liberation ended with the cold revelation that no, he didn’t feel the same and you’d ruined your friendship permanently.
You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a few tears slid down your cheek. You rubbed them away roughly, though fresh ones replaced them immediately. Your chest and throat felt constricted, making breathing steadily a little difficult. You heard the sheets rustle as he moved.
“Why are you crying?” Did your ears betray you or had his voice softened? He still sounded tired as hell, but he didn’t sound irritated. If anything, his tone was almost exasperated.
You brushed away the fresh set of tears but they just kept coming. Was this two years of pent-up frustration coming to the surface? Or was it because of the imminent end of your friendship?
“I just ruined my friendship,” you muttered, sniffling. It didn’t look like your tears would be stopping anytime soon, so you decided to save yourself the embarrassment; you stood up then grabbed your bag and stood up quickly, covering your face with your arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — ”
“Wait,” he called quickly. You stepped back as you heard the hospital bed creak then a soft ‘fuck’ reached your ears, making you drop your arm away from your eyes.
Your eyes widened once you saw he had sat up and shifted, moving to stand up in front of you. “Don’t get up, you’ll hurt yourself more!” You put a hand on his shoulder, trying pushing him down, but it was all in vain. The strength he had gained over the years — and more recently as the cleanup for Seido — was no match for your own. He stood up and you found yourself trapped with him in the space between the chair and the bed.
You froze. With this proximity, you could lean your forehead on his chest; in fact, you could almost feel the warmth he radiated. You dropped your eyes immediately. Funnily enough, your tears were quickly drying with this new distraction.
Miyuki pried your fingers off his shoulder and your heart fell to your stomach, but instead of dropping your hand, he clasped your hand between his own. His grip was tight and unyielding. The message was clear. You weren’t going anywhere.
(And to be completely honest, you didn’t want to be anywhere else.)
You saw his chest lift and fall as he sighed, the warm air brushing over the crown of your head, tickling stray pieces of flyaway hair. There were too many things going on at once. You felt the coarseness of his palms against your hand, callouses rubbing against the skin roughly, the distinct scent of a generic detergent brand printed on the cotton t-shirt he was wearing. But it was all so Miyuki that you couldn’t complain.
Being this close, hearing his steady breathing, he was here. That familiar comfort you’d always found with him was slowly returning and that was dangerous. You didn’t even know if he still wanted to be your friend. But maybe . . .
“You’re right,” he finally said.
“About what?”
“About ruining our friendship.”
You flinched, taking a step back and running into the chair. It scraped loudly against the floor. Well, then. At least that had been solved, right? You felt the tears that had dried begin to well up again, the hurt piercing your heart like a knife once more. You tried to pull your hand away but he was too strong for you.
“Miyuki — ”
“I don’t want to be your friend if you feel like that.”
Your mouth quivered. “I get it, you don’t need to — ”
He released your hand but before you could step away, his hands were cradling your face, tilting you towards him. You had no choice but to look at him. You inhaled sharply, feeling exposed underneath his gaze. But more than that, his eyes held an unspoken tenderness that hadn’t been there before. His thumbs gently brushed away the stray tears that had escaped.
“I’m not . . . good with this,” he said. “But I don’t want to be your friend because I — ” He stopped, almost seeming to pout at his lack of articulation. You had an inkling to what he was trying to say, to what he was hinting at and it made your chest tighten, made your palms sweaty and your heart race.
“Why?” you blurted out, feeling like you had to know why he would chose you, out of all people, and also because you weren’t sure you could deal with the implications of his words so soon.
Miyuki looked genuinely confused. “What?”
“After all I did . . . Not talking to you . . . Honestly, I understand why you blocked me — ”
“Blocked you? I never blocked you,” he frowned.
“I — Your number didn’t work when I tried to text you for your birthday last year,” you clarified. “No call, either.”
“Oh. Oh.” He seemed to understand and winced, a guilty expression passing over his face. “I got a new phone a few days before that. I broke my old one — ”
“How do you break a Nokia?”
He grinned, tugging on your cheek playfully and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his grin, so warm and full of mirth. You felt like a little thirteen-year-old again, experiencing the first adrenaline rush of your feelings.
“My teammates broke it,” he corrected. “Dad got me one, said it was partially a birthday present, too. I got a new phone number but I . . . Well, I never texted you my new number. I had yours, I just didn’t . . .” he trailed off and the happy bubble you two had found yourselves in popped.
It hurt, but you understood. Miyuki was the type to need to know — he needed to know why you had avoided telling him for so long, why you wanted to go all the way to Kyoto for school; he was analytical in every aspect of his life. You weren’t going to be excluded from that particular quirk.
But you also wondered what would happen now. If his terrible word phrasing from earlier said anything about it, Miyuki seemed to think of you as more than a friend — but it had been two years since you two had spoken or even interacted face-to-face.
“Hey.”
You blinked, refocusing on him. He was frowning, eyebrows furrowed as he squished your cheeks together. You struggled in his grip, feeling a scowl quickly form on your lips. “Your hands are probably filthy, stop that — ”
He sighed and dropped his hands from your face, stepping back to lean on the hospital bed fully. You were . . . disappointed at the ensuring distance, no longer finding his natural warmth at your disposal. You chided yourself; Miyuki had an injury. He shouldn’t exert so much energy. You weren’t sure about the extent of his injury, exactly, but if he had fainted from the pain, then it had to be worrying, right?
You scrutinized his appearance, too caught up in your worries to be shameful. At least that was one thing that never changed. (And would probably never change.)
“You should sit back down, Miyuki.”
Miyuki huffed softly. “It’s just an oblique muscle tear on my right side. And I’m not made of glass, you know.”
“I know.”
“And hey,” he caught your attention again. “Why do you always call me by my last name? Even Mei calls me by my first.”
You shrugged, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden question. “I don’t know. It was just a thing I always did. Besides, this is Mei we’re talking about.”
He snorted. “That’s true. Wait,” he frowned at you. “Since when do you call Mei by his first name? This is just unfair.” He pouted a little and you huffed.
“I’m relieved to see that you haven’t changed, and well, we’ve sort of . . . become friends.”
“You know we lost our ticket to Nationals because of Inashiro, right?”
You rolled your eyes. “Well, you’re going to Koshien Stadium now, aren’t you? It’s basically the same thing.”
“It’s not.”
“Mei and I are friends, I guess. He was the one who encouraged me to — to talk to you. Try and rekindle our friendship.”
“What exactly did he say?”
You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at Miyuki. “Why do you want to know?”
Miyuki shrugged carelessly. “Mei’s the type to incite action in someone else. Would you have come if you hadn’t spoken to him?”
You made a choked sound of disbelief. “You’re assuming — ”
“You said you were in love with me, didn’t you?”
The abrupt reminder of your confession was like a slap to the face. You shut your mouth silently, feeling embarrassed at being put on the spot like this.
Miyuki looked thoughtful. “Whatever he said must’ve resonated with you. I imagine your sister had a hand in this, too. She doesn’t like taking the blame, does she?”
You were worried about nothing, apparently. Miyuki seemed to remember all your ticks now as he had two years ago. In fact, just being with him for these past few minutes have been refreshing. It was like coming home.
Miyuki huffed softly at your lack of response. “Look, I . . . I’m sorry. For everything.”
You stiffened. “What are you — ”
He says your name lowly, cutting you off short.
There was an edge of rawness in his voice, a vulnerability that you hadn’t ever heard before. You swallowed your response, watching him tentatively as he dropped his head, turning his eyes to the ground.
“These last few months were difficult. Did you know I was made captain? The, uh, previous captain — Yuki — nominated me, of all people. You know how I am. As you might imagine, we had a few clashes, but things are coming together now. I mean, we won. Can you believe that?” Miyuki laughed, but it was cold and brittle.
You didn’t like how depreciating this was turning. He may’ve asked for your silence, but if all he was going to do was put himself down, then you would put a stop to it.
As if sensing your climbing ire, he looked back up and the anger simmered, fading to a dull roar as you met his eyes. There was a warmth in there you hadn’t ever seen before.
“We got through it. We’re here now. Things are looking up. This damn injury . . . It’s just a speed bump in a long road. But through it all, I kept going back to you. You never left my mind. I,” he paused again and dropped his eyes, seemingly embarrassed, “I missed you.” It came out like a mumble, a hesitant admission; expected for someone as emotionally closed off as Miyuki.
But you found it charming. His inability to respond in closely social situations, in times like this that were intimate. You knew him well enough to know what he was saying.
“So, I’m sorry. For ignoring you. For prying when it wasn’t my place. For being an asshole about it all, really.”
You took a deep breath. This was it. “I’m sorry, too. No matter what, you deserved to know the truth.”
“Well.” It sounded like Miyuki disagreed as he reached up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “It was a deeply personal reason.”
You snorted. “No shit.”
“If it’s any consolation, I’ve always felt the same.”
You froze.
There it was.
Your heart was going into overdrive once again and you found your breath stolen from you when he lifted his head to make eye contact with you. There was still that warmth in there that hadn’t been present before. But maybe it had always been there, you had just never seen it. Miyuki was a master at disguising his emotions and you supposed you couldn’t ever have idealized the concept of him having feelings for you to be able to actually notice it.
“And I think,” he continued quietly, “that we’re not ever going to be the same again. But that’s okay. So, let’s start off with you calling me by my first name, yeah?”
The air left your lungs in a rush and before you could even think to manage an agreement, he lifted his hand to your cheek, settling warmly on the curve, thumb brushing gently over it. He pushed forward and you knew, you knew where this was heading. You didn’t stop him. You weren’t sure you wanted to. Sure, there might’ve been some things that still needed to be discussed but you had settled your battles for the most part.
So when he asked, his voice soft in the tenderness of the moment, “Can I kiss you?” You found it a little hard to keep standing straight, so why wouldn’t you have leaned forward on him — totally mindful of his injury, of course — and met his lips halfway.
There might’ve been a number of things that ruined it for anyone else — having to watch his right side constantly so you didn’t hurt him, the bookbag still weighing heavily on your shoulder, keeping an ear out for the nurses and doctors — but there were other factors that made it perfect for you.
The warm and firm press of his mouth on yours, easily consuming all your senses with everything that was Miyuki Kazuya but retaining a gentleness that was also him. Always making sure you were comfortable. And the way his other hand had easily fallen to your waist to keep you in place was your anchor, powerful tendons of his arm underneath your palm that kept you from falling into the sea.
It was strange. He was both all-consuming and anchoring.
He shifted, angling a little more to slant his lips over yours, deepening and taking you down to the depths of the ocean. You followed willingly, reciprocating eagerly if only to prolong this experience. But the growing burn in your lungs was going to be a problem soon.
That was okay. He was back in your life now, wasn’t he? Miyuki Kazuya wasn’t a stranger, he wasn’t a friend; he was something more, a fixated presence in your life that caused you both immense happiness and irritation. No one was perfect, you knew, but even with all his faults and flaws, he came pretty damn close.
And he was right, too.
You had sort of ruined your friendship, though you supposed it was on his end, too. This was a two-way street, after all.
But as he pulled away, breathing a little faster than usual, his lips beginning to swell, you didn’t find yourself mourning the end of it. No, as he caught his breath and leaned forward again to claim your mouth, you found yourself looking forward to what he’d bring.
Your future was firmly entrenched with his and you wanted it to stay that way.
#fair warning i wrote this when i was in my. sophomore year. in 2019. LOL#its not bad! im actually quite fond of this fic#particularly of my characterizations. mei especially. he grew on me while writing it#its been up on ao3 since 2019 i just thought that since i'm posting dogfish here#i might as well throw up my other oneshots#the shorter content basically. long stuff will be posted strictly to ao3 or wattpad#daiya no ace x reader#daiya no ace#ace of diamond#ace of diamond x reader#miyuki kazuya#miyuki kazuya x reader#miyuki#moss writes
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𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗕𝗬𝗨𝗟 𝗫 !𝗙𝗔𝗥𝗨𝗭𝗔𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥
slow days in posting what a great life <33
RIDDLE was please to stay the least about your “unlimited knowledge”. He loves educating someone like you and how is a fast learner on the history and twisted wonderland. Turns out your worlds aren’t too different now are they?
RIDDLE as a child who was deprived of such things like story times regular kids would normally has loves to hear about your stories about domains and all the mechanisms you have solved. For you to the base of regular mechanism knowledge in a region for majority people and not to mention a whole academia is amazing to him!
RIDDLE admires you and looks up to you now, he also strives to be a genius like you in a way people will also admire.
TREY feels at ease knowing you are around Riddle so now he doesn’t have to worry about him going overboard at all! In return he likes to treat you to snacks every now and then as a thanks for taking care of his best friend even in his absence.
Sometimes he just walks in on you being a parental figure to riddle and he would just give you that cute little smile then proceed to walk off knowing he’s in good hands.
CATER tried to take a picture with you at first and then only to learn you were fun to be around intrigued his interest even more. He likes your element burst because whenever he posts it everyone just says it’s simply stunning! He doesn’t want to tell you but..he finds it cute whenever your ego gets boosted and he doesn’t even know how that makes sense himself.
He is truly fond of you to the point he actually shows his true nature around you. He’s comfortable enough to say that you’re completely honest even though sometimes your words are harsh you know exactly what to say and what’s necessary at times.
ACE at first just didn’t like you at all. Who do you think you are telling him to call you “madam” and all that crap? He’s not going to do it! He doesn’t care if you are some powerful prefect because he has too much self esteem. But eventually he will soften up to you in the end. After becoming close to him he starts clinging on to you like his life depends on it. “Hey prefect! I need to copy your homework real qui-“ “no.”
ACE and you tease each other a lot. He can get a bit touchy sometimes but he knows his limits too so it’s not always that you have to put him in his place.
He’s a PDA muncher not to mention y’all are sassy buddies
DEUCE appreciates you a lot more than you think actually. How could he? You’re so generous to him and maybe him being a top student might actually happen thanks to you! He often comes over to ramshackle for tutoring, while of course ace occasionally tags along when he really needs it.
I see deuce just being your personal bodyguard even though he is well aware that you can protect yourself. He just admires you so much! But..please stop picking unnecessary fights sometimes with people who piss you off..for his sake at least.
#x reader#{-muxis writes#headcanons#headcanon#oneshots#twst headcanons#twisted wonderland x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#twisted wonderland x genshin impact#faruzan#faruzan genshin#deuce spade#ace trapolla#riddle rosehearts#trey clover#cater diamond#cater headcanons#trey headcanons#deuce headcanons#ace headcanons#ace x reader#trey x reader#riddle headcanons#riddle x reader#deuce x reader#cater x reader#disney twisted wonderland#genshin impact headcanons#heartslaybul x reader
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If twst had a fantasy setting…
Heartslabyul is definitely a mini-village or town with Riddle in full power. He is assisted by Trey, his the right hand, and Cater, who is responsible for surveillance (tracking). He got his position in a fair fight. With his leadership, peace and order came to the lands that once represented chaos. Although the newly arrived residents like Ace and Deuce will not agree with this. Their village is too distinguished by respect for the rules, unlike others.
For example, Savanaclaw. A city, or better to say a pride, in which the strongest rule over the weak. The fate of a simple traveler who wandered into the territory of Leona is unenviable. One who inadvertently ends up here, can only regret. It's stupid to celebrate a victory if you're not torn apart by monsters. They must have retreated in fear of Ruggie or Jack. Whom to meet for greater luck is up to you.
However, why would anyone willingly go to the Wild Lands? Why.. if you can walk along the shores of lake Octavinelle crystal clear blue water. This is how the reservoir appears. However, traveler, you have nothing to be afraid of exactly as long as you do not decide to enter the water. As soon as this is done, the previously calm lake will begin to change its appearance, like a sleeping predator. The water will darken, and long shadows will rise from the bottom, dragging you down. There is no information about those that never surfaced again.
Brr…that's exactly why you kept running your finger across the map. Not far from the lake lies a cruel desert that has ruined many lives. To overcome it - that's real luck. But if the heat and the scorching sun do not kill you, then one careless step towards the lake, which appears like an oasis, will be a fatal mistake. Although if you would go, the faithful servant of Al-Asim family, which proudly positioned among the sands of Scarabia, will slit your throat.
You took a deep breath and tried not to lose hope. There was a place somewhere where you could find shelter, right? So your gaze was attracted by a dense forest, in the middle of which, like a pillar of light, a castle towered, more like a fortress. Pomefiore is known for their cold attitude towards outsiders, especially those who do not meet the expectations of their head. Vil, like a peacock, rightfully took the throne and for several years has been maintaining the image of beauty. To see him with at least one eye is the dream of careless onlookers, because before you could stand near the King, you need to go through his hunter. Even if by some miracle you manage to avoid meeting the Rook, hunger and thirst will do their job. One bite of the scarlet apple offered by the cutest youth and you will be a dead.
On one side of the castle is a cave. No matter how deep you go in the hope of seeing something, the blue lights will take you further and further. At one point, you will realize that you can no longer find a way to the surface. It`s okay, your eyes will quickly get used to the darkness, and you will see the hidden beauty of the dungeon. Perhaps Idia, head of the Underworld Ignihyde, will persuade you to stay forever.
If by some miracle you manage to make your way up to the light, then do not rush to relax. It is possible that around you will find dense thickets of Diasomnia thorns. One touch on them is enough to break through the skin and make it bleed. Be careful, because there are guards of His Highness roaming nearby, who will indiscriminately cut off your head. However, you are fate`s favorite one, and instead of them you saw green fireflies. Malleus, the crown prince of these lands, unexpectedly finds your company pleasant. The road was exhausting, why not relax in his castle? You have nowhere else to go anyway.
#fantasy au#twisted wonderland#twst#twst oneshot#twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#yandere heartslabyul#yandere octavinelle#yandere savannaclaw#yandere pomefiore#yandere scarabia#yandere diasomnia#yandere ignihyde#rook hunt#vil schoenheit#riddle rosehearts#ace trapolla#trey clover#cater diamond#deuce spade#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floid leech#jamil viper#x reader#malleus draconia
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"𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶..?"- - 𝘼𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙮𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙨◄(TWST, accidentally joining a mysterious chat group; 1)
🍀
Heartslabyul Chat 1, Chat 2, Chat 3, Chat 4, Chat 5, Chat 6, Chat 7, Chat 8 ⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
ＩＮＴＲＯＤＵＣＴＩＯＮ ＴＯ ＨＯＮＥＥ－ＭＥＩ！【ホネメイ】
HONEE-MEI is a free application that provides messaging and voice-over-IP services. It allows users to send text messages and voice messages, make voice and video calls, and share images, documents, user locations, and other content.
The special part about HONEE-MEI is that it allows you to connect internationally across the globe, not just allow private chats, but allows you to interact with others by typing in the code of your desired group chat or individual you would like to talk to!
Of course, privacy settings can be modified to your liking!
It has recently become more and more popular! Why not give it a try?
ᶤţ ωㄖｕlĎ𝐍'𝓣 𝕙ᑌŘт 𝕥๏ Ť𝐑ʸ...
Download now!
🍀
▻ 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗯𝘆𝘂𝗹 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝘁 ⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙
Your friend wanted you to join their chat group through this app called HONEE-MEI. “All you have to do is type in your code” they say, you stare blankly at the code input box as you lazily blinked. “Alright, alright..” you mumbled to yourself, typing in the code your friend has sent you.
They seemed hyped about the group chat they were in, and wanted you to meet all the friends they’ve made all around the world (presumably) in that group chat. You hit “Enter”, expecting yourself to be directed to their group chat.
The screen shifted a bit, glitches appeared as you rubbed your eyes and moved your head up from your pillow. “What..?”
The loading screen froze, much to your annoyance, as you continuously tapped onto the screen in hopes it would un-freeze itself. Abruptly, the screen came back, but instead of your friend’s group chat name, it said:
⋘𝙉𝙤𝙬 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 "𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙪𝙡 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙩". 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩... ⋙
The heck? That wasn’t your friend’s group chat at all! You grumbled, trying to cancel the unwanted transaction.
⋘𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧. 𝙋𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣!⋙
You kept pressing and pressing that darn red “X” button but to no avail, and you were transported straight to this foreign chat. Definitely going to file a complaint and a 1-star review of this stupid app.
➤𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗯𝘆𝘂𝗹 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝘁
→ Y/N joined the chat!
→ Ace joined the chat!
→ Deuce joined the chat!
Ace: remind me why we’re here in this chat with you guys???
Deuce: Ace!! Dorm Leader is in this chat!!!
→ Riddle joined the chat!
→ Trey joined the chat!
→ Cater joined the chat!
Cater: lmao aceee
Riddle: You’re here because we need to monitor you, and not put yourself in some hectic shenanigans like last time.
Trey: Don’t worry guys, it won’t be that overbearing.
Ace: errrr- case you were forgetting, what’s not overbearing to you is burdensome to me-
Deuce: Ace, just roll with it-
Cater: i swear your dynamic is HILARIOUS lmfao- PFPFPPFPFPF
Trey: Hey, wait.
Riddle: Yes, Trey? Is it about the next Unbirthday Party tomorrow?
Trey: Not that... but there’s this person named Y/N who joined the chat. Does anyone know them?
Shit, that “Trey” guy noticed you’ve hijacked this place. You didn’t even know you could get here.
Ace: er no- never heard of them-
Deuce: I don’t think I know them...
Cater: lol who? idk them-
Riddle: Y/N? I’ve never heard of someone named Y/N.
Then it happened.
Riddle: @Y/N Please tell us who you are. Immediately.
Ace: SPILL THE BEANS-
Cater: LMFAOODUODIDKJDHKJDKH
Deuce: Wow-
Trey: But in all seriousness Y/N, who are you? Are you even from NRC?
You took a shaky breath, deciding to respond.
Y/N: No..
Ace: A HACKER?!?! YOU CAN’T ENTER WITHOUT A CODE- AND OUR’S PRIVATE-
Deuce: A HACKER?!
Cater: OMFG- that’s kinda cool tho ngl-
Riddle: A hacker? Reveal where you’re from right this instance. Or we will have you reported.
Trey: Where are you from?
Clearly, you aren’t God’s favourite right at the moment, feeling the most pressure from the user “Riddle” and you didn’t know what else to say to everyone else. Perhaps the best choice is to reply to the calmest one out the group.
Trey.
Y/N: @Trey I’m not a hacker, I swear!! I got here by accident. I was supposed to join another group chat but during the process the whole thing glitched and it all of a sudden directed me here. I couldn’t cancel it either.
Riddle: What makes you think we’ll believe that?
Deuce: So the hacker got hacked by a hacker and they hacked you into here..? What???
Ace: you dumbass that’s not what they meant omfg-
Deuce: HEY-
Cater: Hmm, alright- I believe ya, bestie!
Trey: Cater???
Cater: I’m cater diamond, third year and 18 in nrc!! i can send you my magicam account if ya want. make sure to follow!!! \^v^/
Ace: UMMMMM??? ARE WE LITERALLY GONNA GIVE A LITERAL STRANGER OUR PERSONAL INFO????
Riddle: I would agree with Ace for this one. Cater, we know nothing about this person. Why are you giving away sensitive information.
Cater: well i mean i heard this app has the very rare tendency to glitch, and maybe they got the rare glitch when they downloaded it or smth-
Cater: i’ll believe them! besides they literally have their name typed in and not some weird random number like most of the scams and hackers have lmao-
Cater: so hey! :DD
Deuce: Well... alright. Since Cater senpai did so, I’ll do it too!
Deuce: I’m Deuce Spade in the Track n Field Team in NRC! I’m a first year, too!
Cater: i mean- i didn’t give the club im in deucey-
Deuce: BUT THAT’S NOT SO IMPORTANT RIGHT???
Ace: lol deuce, you’re a dunce- anyways, since you did it, i’ll save you the embarrassment by doing it too-
Ace: ace trappola, basketball, first year. boom-
Cater: lmao-
Trey: *sigh* It can’t be helped, I guess..
Trey: I’m Trey Clover, I’m a third year like Cater and I’m not gonna give any more information after this. Sorry for coming across as rude if I did offend you somehow.
Riddle: Even Trey...
Ace: Cmon just hug it out riddle-
Cater: it won’t hurt :3
Riddle didn’t respond for a few minutes, but you saw that he finally started typing.
Riddle: Riddle Rosehearts. If you try to pull of anything funny in this group chat, I’ll have you know that I won’t let you off so easily. The consequences will be dire.
Ace: geez riddle you’re gonna be strict with even people outside heartslabyul-
Y/N: Um, yeah- I guess to be fair, I’ll share who I am.
Y/N: Y/N L/N, that’s who I am.
Cater: hiiiii ! its gonna be fine here dw XD
Trey: Just don’t cause too much trouble. ^^
Ace: @Y/N come join me and deuce’s chat so we can all mowhay-
Deuce: Oh my sevens...
Y/N: errr, okay- weirdo-
Ace: HEY- NVM KICK EM OUT- /j
You giggled. Maybe it’s not too bad.
#riddle rosehearts x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#deuce spade x reader#ace trappola x reader#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#riddle rosehearts#trey clover#cater diamond#deuce spade#ace trappola#twst oneshot#twst x reader oneshot#twisted wonderland oneshot#heartslabyul#heartslabyul x reader#x reader#oneshot#x reader oneshot#self insert
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I’m just wondering is it okay if i request this like can you do a one shot inspired by the song The other woman by Lana Del Rey but the mc/s/o is the other woman
And any character you want to choose in twisted wonderland
It’s ok if you don’t want to do this and sorry if you can’t really understand this English isn’t my first language and it’s isn’t really my strong point
Replacement
Where there's a new exchange student that replaced the Ramshackle student
Stunning, enthralling, captivating, and enchanting.
That's the only way to define the youthful Y/n L/n. Her beauty knew no bounds; it approached and transcended heaven itself. It seemed as though every speck of beauty had been bestowed on her and her alone. She was attractive enough to attract the attention of others. She was born to be the center of attention. She was destined to have everything in the palms of her hands.
So, in what ways can Yuu compete with her? They, unlike her, are inept pupils who cannot wield a single magical power. They are someone who is well-liked and simple to manipulate. Yuu is someone who easily falls into pleasant deception with an empty promise—an endless lifestyle filled with nothing but deceptive gestures.
Y/n was more essential compared to everything else. She had complete influence over every person in this place. With the flick of a finger, she could make thousands of people become infatuated with her ethereal beauty. It was dangerous, clever, and wicked of her. It was very unfair towards Yuu, who had fought hard to earn a position in this world.
Wrong. Oh, how completely incorrect they were.
Yuu has no idea when everything changed. They had no idea when the Ace had abandoned them in favor of her. It was terrible and depressing to witness their their supposed to be lover cling to someone else. It sparked sentiments of jealousy and insecurity within them. Of course, they recognize their shortcomings in comparison to her, but surely it can't be that horrible, right?
“Good puppy! You succeeded in creating a superb mid-grade potion." Yuu casts a peek in her direction, where she smiles warmly at Crewel. Receiving compliments from one of the harsh professors was difficult. They were aware that it required a complete concentration on a single mid-grade potion. "It's nothing, Mr. Crewel. I was able to brew such a potion thanks to your teachings."
Yuu bit their bottom lip, glancing down at the concoction they'd brewed. It was nothing out of the ordinary for her. "Man, being in the same group as Y/n must have been wonderful." When they heard this, the prefect frowned. They shifted their eyes to Ace, who seemed astounded by her stunning looks.
It wasn't necessary to inform Yuu. They are aware of their flaws, which are the things they have worked so hard to conceal. It made them over think through every possibility. Whether at this point, they're a great partner to have around in alchemy class or not. Whether they're compatible with the new transfer student. Whether somewhere in this society—they still had a place where they truly belonged.
Yuu was overwhelmed. Everything that's occurring and every single second that revolts against them all. It didn't help their condition that they had been fixing all of the problems at this college. All of that goodwill, though, might have been wiped away in an instant with just one transfer student. They are now back in ostracized land.
A land where their worth may not be recognized. Where neither of them would turn back to face them. They will pretend to be unaware of the call for assistance or their own guidance. Should Yuu live in such a world? They barely understood the concept of magic, so taking away a sociable friend would be far viler than anyone could have imagined.
Yuu wondered where all of that transient joy had gone. The days of all of their friends conversing, playing, or just seeking their assistance are long gone. It was terrible, empty, and lonely. The stars that had adorned the black sky had floated away to a far more enthralling cosmos, leaving behind their moon that had screamed out in agony.
They had no idea that the point of view had shifted. Where the wariness and antagonism transform into a ferocious loathing for the girl. A foul, horrible, and violent set of emotions engulfed their journey — their bliss.
It was unwarranted, even unfair. They had worked hard for it, and the foundation upon which they had relied shattered right in front of them. They have been replaced by a new monarch, who has replaced those sad memories with a great delight that she has disseminated. A happiness that many wanted in this place; whether it was acceptance, comfort, or anything else, she was there to provide it.
Alas, what about them? What about them that had offered it all at once to those ungrateful bastards all at once? The price they had to pay for being polite and helpful has completely stabbed them in the back. It had cloaked their long-standing compassion in resentment and venom. It contaminated their hearts with something Yuu themselves could not recognize.
A tray was placed in front of them, jolting them out of their stupor. Yuu looked up to see the transfer student, who was eating a lemon lollipop and smiling at them. "You must have been Yuu, right? I never got the opportunity to properly greet you." That's true. They were far too preoccupied with avoiding her, which caused others to question their actions.
"You know, being here at the beginning... Is extremely bothersome." She acknowledged it with a warm grin, sitting across from them and removing their lemon-flavored sweets. "Because I felt like an alien species that had infiltrated Earth, attracting the attention of scientists, you know?"
Yuu moved their eyes over the table till it was pulled to the line where the two Adeuce duo were now trapped, with Grim by their side. "And I genuinely admire you." When they heard that, they trembled and looked towards the Y/n direction. She smiled with her eyes squinted as she leaned her chin on the top of her palm.
That was a risky action, and Yuu was confident that the hierarchies all over this place had altered. As the rumor had it, despite her developed and chilly exterior, she's quite a kind-hearted charmer, and people might let down their defenses around her. Her natural appearance was even more powerful than Jamil's dreadful, unique magic that lay with the help of a magic power.
It is said that Yuu was wary of her. They contemplate the consequences of their ill-mannered intentions. What sort of ploy or schemes have they created before entering this place? What exactly does Y/n seek in this place instead of a studious relationship between two schools? There's no way they would've sent someone that could've been an important assessment to the school to a villainous school.
"N/n~!" Yuu nervously turned to face the source of the sound, watching Cater enthusiastically wave his hand about, with Riddle and Trey sitting right beside him. There was an empty place between them, indicating that they had intended to invite her over for lunch. And they weren't so blind as to overlook it.
Such a joyous personality, one that elevates others' emotions and makes them grin. It was pointless to try to get rid of her at this point. Y/n had made a tangle of ties with the individuals they had admired. There will be no unnecessary commotion because a mediator has arrived.
“I’ll talk to you later, Yuu! Oh, and tell Ace I'll meet him after school!!”
These two are diametrically opposed. She, who understands the world — such as the trend, the lesson, and all the wisdom that they could never comprehend. In comparison, they did little more than provide a momentary moment of consolation. It all collapses and vanishes just in front of their eyes. And all that is left is a sense of disdain, sorrow, and torment.
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland oneshot#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#twst headcanons#twst heartslabyul#ace trappola#twst ace#ace x reader#yuu#twst yuu#yuu x reader#deuce spade#twst deuce#cater diamond#twst cater#trey clover#twst trey#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#heartslabyul#heartslaybul x reader#female reader#𝙸𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚡™
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The Un-unbirthday Party
Characters: Heartslabyul (some are there more than others but they all speak)
Gender neutral reader
Warnings: Not proof read
Synopsis/tags: I had this idea while lying in bed and contemplating my life choices, fluff, slight angst, no use of y/n, reader is ramshackle prefect, you can guess the ending, takes place after book 1 but book 2 hasn't started yet
Notes: First time posting a fic on here so please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading!, tried to make this aesthetically pleasing to look at lmao
Do not repost, reblog only(if you enjoyed reading do reblog it helps with motivation)
Word count: 800+ (I skimmed to count so I don't know the exact number)
It was a cycle.
Go to school. Keep Grim in line. Get dragged into trouble by your friends. Go back to Ramshackle exhausted because some bird insisted on you doing something to repay him because of he is 'oh so generous'.
Ha.
You realized one day that time was really flying by because as you were rearranging things in the main room and trying to clean stuff up the ghosts popped up.
"Sheehee, hello there prefect."
You jumped, startled. The picture you were adjust on the wall almost slipped from your fingers and you fumbled to catch it.
You sighed, "Hello. There something you need?"
"No." One of them responded.
"But we do have a question." Another added.
"Sure," you put the picture on the floor and faced the ghosts, "What is it?"
"Is it true your birthday is in a week from today?"
You hummed in thought, pulling out the phone that Crowley lent you out of his graciousness (whatever) and you check the date.
Sure enough your birthday was to be in exactly one week from today.
"Seems like it yeah," You answered nonchalantly, "Why do you-" looking up from the bright screen you saw that the ghosts had just vanished. "Okayy?"
Shrugging off the encounter you put your phone back in your pocket and picked the picture up again.
"Henchmen!"
"Gah!" You yelped and the object crashed to the floor, a sure sound of something breaking made you internally groan.
"What now Grim?"
"Why didn't you tell me your birthday is coming up?"
You tilted your head, "I never told you when my birthday was."
"I- ah-" he stuttered over his words, "I overheard you speaking to the ghosts about it! Not because I was curious about why you didn't say when your birthday was but because I was just in the area at the time and I am curious."
You chuckled, "Of course. I wouldn't have thought any differently."
"So..." He trailed off, and knowing Grim he wouldn't let it go until he had an answer.
"Well," you started, walking away from the shattered picture and towards you kitchen for a glass of water. "I guess there's more so two reasons. Reason one: I haven't really thought about it. Being here has kept me running everywhere so I guess I haven't had much time to think. And two..." You trailed off, staring into the cup of water, fingers tightening around the glass, "I suppose I'm trying to avoid it."
"Wah!?" The cat sputtered from his spot on the floor, he quickly crawled to your leg and climbed until he was sprawled across your shoulders. "Why would you avoid your birthday?!"
You sighed, "Because the people I usually spend it with aren't here." Finally you decided to take a sip of the water, it's coolness helping your parched throat only by a little. "My family and friends back home...they...I..." You stopped talking for fear of the tears that were threatening to fall.
"Oh..." He trailed off. The cat was at a loss for words. You? His henchmen- without your family on one of the most important days of the year? No. He wouldn't have it. Not for his henchmen.
---
It's been a week and today was your birthday, although it didn't feel any different from any other days at Night Raven College, you knew that this day is different.
You weren't home. You wouldn't see your family or friends and as the days passed it felt as if Crowley wasn't even trying to get you home.
Like the other days your mind was on autopilot as you went from class to class, the day was beginning to mush and blur together.
There was one part of the day you were excited for however, and that was the Unbirthday party Heartslabyul was hosting in the evening. It was the one thing that seemed to be good in your day as you treked from class to class and tried not to fall asleep in Trein's lessons.
At the moment it was Lunch time and you were silently eating your food while you listened to your friends talk.
"So," Deuce faced you, "You still coming to the ah-Unbirthday Party later?"
You nodded with a smile, "Wouldn't miss the chance for free food." Your friends chuckled in response as you finished up your lunch.
Although you could definitely feel something was off with your Heartslabyul friends you didn't say anything. You didn't know why but you just brushed this moment off and hoped they hadn't gotten into any trouble.
Your hopes were thankfully answered. (You didn't know this though)
"So, prefect. Anything interesting going on today?"
You raised a brow at the sudden question and opened you mouth to speak and faltered when Ace suddenly yelped, as if he had been elbowed in the side.
"What was that for?" Ace hissed as he faced the boy next to him who just wordlessly stared at him.
They say in silence for a few long minutes before you looked at the cafeteria clock.
"Well I don't know what's going on with you to and I swear if you got into some type of trouble." You stood up with your tray, "I will murder you."
"Oh nothing-"
"It's just that-"
"We didn't do anything we swear!"
You gave them an incredulous look as they stood with their trays, "...okay..."
As the day went on they just acted more and more suspicious. They must have done something to be acting like this!
Throughout the classes you had one(or both) of them with, Deuce would shuffle in his seat nervously and stutter over his words and Ace was... semi-normal. He didn't insult you as much as usual though which made you very suspicious because he never once made fun of Grim-who has been awfully quiet for the most of the day as he clung to your shoulders.
'What is going on?'
---
Finally the school day had come to a close, and you were currently attempting to get ready for the un-unbirthday party.
But it seemed like you had nothing.
The outfit that Riddle had given you when you first went was kind of ruined from trying to run away from Trey and Carter, for it had gotten caught on the rose bushes. But it didn't seem like you had much of a choice. At least it wasn't that torn? It was noticable but not terrible.
You just hoped that the dorm leader would let this slide- knowing him before his overblot, you would surly loose your head.
You fiddles with the sleeves nervously as your shoes clacked in the quiet halls of the college. Grim had already left while you were getting ready, insisting that he, the great Grim, could take care of himself.
You gave him the benefit of the doubt and now you were walking in the halls alone.
You didn't think your birthday was terrible so far. Not much homework, Grim was cooperative, and you got the change to go to a party- even if it wasn't yours. You'd say it was a pretty decent day, but at times you couldn't stop thinking about your home.
What could they be doing? Did they miss you? Did they think you went missing or died?
The questions were endless and you attempted to push them out of your mind. You wanted to focus on your friends and the Unbirthday party today. You didn't want to worry anyone with your troubles.
You finally stood in front of the steps to the mirror. Your foot hovered over the steps when someone suddenly stumbled out of the mirror.
"Deuce?" Said boy stumbled down the steps and you moved out of the way so you wouldn't get crushed and you caught him before he could faceplant into the floor.
"Oh-ah- hey there prefect!" He straightened out and your arms fell to your sides.
"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be at the party?" You asked, gesturing to the mirror.
"Well actually I came to get you! Um, Carter and I."
You tilted your head, "Carter's with you?"
"Yep, mhm. So we should probably wait for him."
"But you just said you came to get me, and I am here so..." You took a step towards the mirror but a hand on your wrist stopped you.
"Well we should probably wait because he doesn't know your here yet! He could end up going to you dorm only to realize you're not there so we should totally wait."
You didn't pull away from his grip, "Totally..."
Not to long later after a long awkward silence, Carter appeared.
"Ah prefect! There you are! Glad we found you."
You deadpanned, "I've been standing here for a while."
He ignored your comment, "Come on let's go- wait." He stopped and looked at your outfit before frowning, "It's ripped."
"Yeah I know... But I didn't have anything else."
He waved his hand, "Not a problem let me just..." He took out his pen and with a flick of his wrist, your outfit had been repaired to it's previous state, with just a little more...'pizazz'.
"Oh!" You looked at yourself and one of the previously ripped parts and hummed, "Thanks Carter!"
"Not a problem prefect! Can't have you looking like a mess at your-"
"At the Unbirthday party!" Deuce suddenly shouted, his voice an octave higher than normal.
"Oh yes, Riddle would not have been pleased." Carter agreed.
"Well then I believe he also would not be pleased if we are late yes? Let's go."
"Ahh, not just yet." Carter stepped into your path.
You frowned, "Why not?"
"Well... preparations have not yet finished up and we had a uh... incident. I came to get Deuce for the extra help. I'll text you when we are ready!"
Before you could utterly another word Carter had already grabbed your classmates wrist and disappeared in the mirror.
You blinked.
"Okay then...might as well go to the library and try to do some research..."
---
The gardens were quiet, the roses red glistening with fresh red paint, the only sounds being your shoes against the pavement as you walked into the gardens to get to the main area.
Minutes ago you had gotten the text from Carter saying that they were ready for you.
What did that even mean? It's an Unbirthday party they are meant for well-everyone.
You looked from from the roses, to the trees, and to the cloudless sky.
It was nice, the quiet and the serene nature. You felt almost at peace.
No cat complaining about the school work.
No friends getting themselves into trouble.
Just yourself on this nice and simple day. Your birthday.
And cake.
But that would be later.
You had finally come to the same old space in the garden where the party's were held. Tables were set and silverware shone when hit by the sun's rays.
But where was everyone?
The place was empty not a single soul in sight. You pulled out your phone with a frown, re-reading Carter's message. They should all be here by now...
Something collided with your body and you crashed to the ground with a yelp, your phone slipping from your fingers.
"Ow..." You groaned, attempting to sit up, about to hit your attacker when you paused. "Ace? What the hell what was for?"
He only smirked and helped you to your feet before pulling an item from behind his back and placing it on your head.
"Happy birthday prefect."
What?
At that moment the students came filing out from where they hid, greeting you with a smile and 'happy birthday' before taking seats at the tables.
"What? But- how?"
"Grim and the ghosts." Riddle appeared beside you, "The cat gave Trey quite a fright. Luckily he wasn't holding anything but a tray, unfortunately, that tray will filled with treats which hit the floor. Grim had no problem cleaning them up and he told Trey in muffled words that your birthday was coming up."
"I went to Riddle and he told your friends." Trey smiled as you turned to meet his eyes, "It was Riddle's idea to push the Unbirthday for another day and have this be, in other words, a surprise birthday party. Happy birthday prefect." He handed you a small wrapped box and you could barley stutter out a thank you.
You were shocked and happy.
And on the verge of tears(but they didn't need to know that).
You smiled, straightening the ridiculous and nostalgic hat on your head as Deuce wished you a happy birthday and Carter pulled you close for a picture(after he handed you your phone which was somewhere in the grass after Ace tackled you).
"Then I guess it's an un-unbirthday party." You joked. "Thank you guys."
This is one moment you wouldn't trade for anything. Not even a ticket home.
Because at the moment, this was the now.
This was your home.
Whether temporary or permanent.
No matter how much chaos you get into with those guys- you wouldn't have it any other way.
---
Reblogs and likes are always appreciated, thank you!
#twisted wonderland#birthday#fanfiction#oneshot#twst#heartslabyul#fluff#no y/n#x reader#gender neutral reader#idk how to use tags#ace trappola#duece spade#trey clover#carter diamond#riddle rosehearts
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Masterlist!
Heartslabyul
Riddle Rosehearts:
Trey Clover:
Cater Diamond:
Duece Spade:
Ace Trappola:
Savannaclaw
Leona Kingscholar:
Ruggie Bucchi:
Jack Howl:
Jack With A Teasing Catgirl Girlfriend - https://www.tumblr.com/jamilviperswife/728774415161180160/foaming-at-mouth-hey-jack-howl-with-like-a? Drabble
Jack Howl Being Needy During His Rut - https://www.tumblr.com/jamilviperswife/728817043114278912/no-thoughts-only-jack-howl-being-sooo-needy-during? One shot
Jack Gaining A Crush On Waitress!Reader - https://www.tumblr.com/jamilviperswife/728830833870454784/jack-howl-stole-my-heart-and-also-sorry-idk-any? One shot
Octavinelle
Azul Ashengrotto:
Jade Leech:
Floyd Leech:
Scarabia
Kalim Al-Asim:
Jamil Viper:
Where Did It All Go Wrong? - https://www.tumblr.com/jamilviperswife/729306256222961664/hi-hello-idk-how-requests-really-work-but-could?source=share - Drabble
Don't Leave Me - https://www.tumblr.com/jamilviperswife/731467055704965120/dont-leave-me?source=share - Drabble
Pomefiore
Vil Schoenheit:
Rook Hunt:
Epel Felmier
Ignihyde
Idia Shroud:
Ortho Shroud:
Diasomnia
Malleus Draconia:
Lilia Vanrouge:
Silver Vanrouge:
Sebek Zigvolt:
HEADCANONS
https://www.tumblr.com/jamilviperswife/728770301676191744/twisted-wonderland-headcanons?
https://www.tumblr.com/jamilviperswife/728809405214343168/twisted-wonderland-headcanons-pt2?
https://www.tumblr.com/jamilviperswife/745682132623654912/hi-since-requests-are-open-id-like-to-ask-if?
I apologize as it's going to look a little wacky for the time being, but until I get the kinks worked out, this is going to be my masterlist for now! 😅
#twisted wonderland#masterlist#riddle rosehearts#trey clover#cater diamond#duece spade#ace trappola#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#kalim al asim#jamil viper#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#epel felmier#idia shroud#ortho shroud#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#twst silver#sebek zigvolt#oneshots#drabble#headcannons
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° 🥀𝒯𝑒𝒶 𝒯𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓈𝓁𝒶𝒷𝓎𝓊𝓁🥀 °
.
.
.
{Or how the boys come to tell you they love you. }
♦️ Cater ♦️
Cater gives you a playful shove, brushing his shoulder against yours. He offers you a teasing grin, before pulling out his phone, and snapping a picture of your surprised face.
“Cater! I thought I told you to stop doing that!!!” You say, embarrassment lacing your tone.
His gaze turns apologetic, and he offers you a bashful smile.
“Sorry, ___! I won’t do it again, I promise. Your reaction was just to~o cute, ya know~?”
Cater says, and you huff, shaking your head.
“Flattery will get you nowhere.”
You say, crossing your arms, though a smile tugs at your face.
Cater raises his hands placatingly, before speaking.
❝ In my defense, I’ve loved you from day one… ❞
His eyes widen, and his hand flies to his mouth, as he realises what he’d just said.
You stare at him for a moment, before giggling.
“And here I thought you were cheeky~! You should be calling yourself cute instead, Cay! That was adorable!!! Pfft!” You say, between giggles.
Cater looks at you with pink tinged cheeks.
“You don’t…You don’t mind?” He asks, his voice sounding unsure.
You stare at him, before grinning playfully, and lightly punching his shoulder.
“No dip, Sherlock! I’ve liked you for a while now. You saved me a lot of trouble with that impromptu confession.”
Cater’s gaze lights up, and he reaches for his phone, before taking pause, and turning to you.
You grin, “I think a picture is acceptable for this occasion. Hashtag just started dating, right?”
Cater returns your smile, bringing the phone up and snapping a selfie of the two of you, before pressing his lips against your cheek.
❝ Let’s make a bunch of other memories too, hm~? ❞
♣️ Trey ♣️
You and Trey headed to the kitchen to bake.
Surprisingly, there was no real occasion this time. You’d just been in the mood, and Trey had offered to accompany you, which you had gladly accepted.
It was common knowledge that Trey was a phenomenal baker, and if he was there helping you bake sweets, they’d turn out twice as good.
Not to mention, Trey’s personality was as sweet as the treats he often baked.
The two of you entered the kitchen, and you both immediately went to wash your hands.
You looked at Trey with a smile.
“Go ahead. You use the sink first.”
Trey shakes his head, “No, I came to help you out. It’s only fair you go on ahead.”
You stare at him a smile on your lips, “It’s just a sink, Trey.”
He flushes, “Sorry, I’m being silly.”
You shake your head, laughing at his reaction, before turning the water on, and taking his hand in yours.
“There. We can wash them together.”
You say, and look down at your entwined hands, before blushing furiously, and releasing Trey’s hand.
“Sorry, that was a bit too forward of me…” You mutter, looking away.
Trey speaks up, his cheeks red.
❝ If I may be a little more forward and say that I don’t mind, and I’ve liked you for some time now… ❞
You look at Trey, your eyes wide.
“Oh. Oh…Wow. Um, I like you too. I think you’re really cute. Does this mean we’re dating? Can we date? Are we a—“
Trey cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours, and you find yourself melting at the contact.
❝ Yes, we are a thing. ❞
No baking got done that day, but neither of you really minded that.
🥀 Riddle 🥀
Riddle stared at you, his brows furrowed.
“You seem tired. I understand the importance of studying, but ruining your sleep schedule will only make things worse for you.”
Riddle says, his tone softening the slightest bit.
You look up at him wearily, “If I fail this test then that will be worse. There isn’t a rule for staying up late, is there?”
Riddle shakes his head, sighing.
“No, there isn’t. There probably shou— Ah, never mind. I’ll be right back. Stay there please.”
You sigh, wondering what he had in mind. Riddle had changed recently, ever since the events with the Prefect.
You’d gotten to know him better since then, and despite his obsession with the rules, he was actually pretty cool.
Riddle returns a few moments later, with a cup of tea, and a strawberry tart in hand.
He slides the plate and cup of tea over to you, with a small smile.
“From my understanding sugar helps to stimulate the brain, and the tea should help you to worry a bit less.”
You look at Riddle, before chuckling a bit. That was such a Riddle thing to say.
“Thank you, Riddle. You’re not breaking any rules for this?”
You ask, teasingly and Riddle’s face flushes red.
❝S-So, maybe I like you enough to break a rule or two?! I mean you’re far cooler than the rules are… ❞
You’d been worried you’d upset him, but his reaction was actually adorable.
A soft coo escapes your lips, “Awwww, Riddle!!! I love you tooo!”
He turns away his face still red, “Y-You shouldn’t say such things so lightly.”
You raise a brow, “Then do your not accept my affections. Aw, here I thought we had something…”
Riddle sits up quickly, his gaze serious, a pout on his face.
❝ I—! Of course, I accept your affections!!! I would love it if we…had something. ❞
You grin, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Great, hehe! You know, I’m in such a good mood I’m not so worried about that test anymore…”
Riddle’s only response is a flustered squeak, as he brings his hand up to his cheek.
♠️ Deuce ♠️
Deuce looked at you, his gaze pleading. Tonight’s homework assignment was clasped tightly in his hand.
You sigh, “No, I won’t do the homework for you, but I will help you with it. If that is what you were going to ask.”
Deuce grins, “Thanks, ___ ! You’re the best. I want to get better at this subject.”
You nod, smiling.
“You want to be an honors student, right? Sorry for assuming you wanted me to do it for you. I’m just used to being asked that.” You say with a sigh.
Deuce nods in understanding.
“No biggie. I get that. I mean, I’m not surprised with how smart you are. Yeah, I want to do well for my mom. Where’d you hear that from? Does everyone know? With how my grades are…that’s kinda embarrassing.”
You shake your head, your eyes wide.
“No,no! It just came up once in a conversation with Ace! Not everyone knows, I swear… It’s just. I was worried. You and Ace, and the prefect are always getting into dangerous situations and… I’m sorry for prying.”
Deuce smiles at you, “No, thanks for worrying about me… I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you as much lately.”
You shake your head, smiling.
“It’s fine. I get that you have other people and friends. I do too. Want to start on the assignment, then?”
You ask, and he nods.
You both sit down, and you run him through the problem.
“Crewel is a tough teacher, but once you figure out the formula you should have no problems.” You say, writing out the equation.
Deuce watches you, transfixed.
❝ You’re really something else, ———. You’re really kind and smart. No wonder, I fell in love with you. ❞
You look at him, your cheeks pink.
“You…You’re in love with me?” You ask, your tone soft.
Deuce stares at you, his cheeks burning, before giving you a tiny nod.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know how to address it and I didn’t mean to avoid you, but I needed to figure it out, and then tonight I just——!”
You cut him off, throwing your arms around him in a hug.
“I love you too, silly.”
You say and he nods, smiling.
❝ Then, I promise to not disappoint you!!! ❞
You laugh, offering him a soft smile.
“As if you could.”
❤️ Ace ❤️
Ace sighed, shuffling through the deck of cards. This was the third game the two of you had played.
“I never thought I’d say this, but weekends are boring. No one’s posted anything new, and everyone else is busy with something. Thank the seven for you, ——— .” Ace says, his tone high.
You roll your eyes, elbowing him playfully.
“Yep. Good ol’ ___ here, to cure your boredom. It’s your turn, Ace.”
You say, and he snorts.
“You sound like you’re advertising something.” He says, and you grin.
“Maybe I am. Hmm. Weekends are dull without company, for a single madol, ___ here will take care of all your companionship needs!!!”
You tease and Ace rolls his eyes.
“No, because then people will take that the wrong way.”
He says and you laugh, nodding.
“Fair, fair! Platonic companionship needs sounds too lengthy, though. Maybe I should just scrap the advertisement, hm?” You say, and he snorts.
“Yeah, then I won’t have to share my weekend buddy.” He says, his tone light.
“Aww, I matter that much?” You ask, and his brow twitches.
“To hell with it. You matter a lot. I love you, ___.”
Ace says, and your eyes widen, before you hear a loud shriek from the doorway.
“No! Ace!! You wanted to confess romantically to them! We got you alone to set the mood!!! That was so un romantic!!! Dislike and MAJOR unsubscribe!!!!!”
The familiar voice of Cater rings out.
Ace puffs up, his gaze harsh.
“You were spying on me?!”
You sigh, “Cater, dear. Please go. My boyfriend and I need to have a talk.”
Cater looks between the two of you, grinning, “Ooooh~! Have fun, then!”
He leaves, leaving you alone with Ace.
“He was right, that was un romantic, but I hate sappy shit like that anyways. Go out with me?”
You say, grinning.
Ace wears a shit eating grin as he responds.
❝ You did already call me your boyfriend. ❞
#heartslabyul#disney twst#ace trappola#ace trapolla x reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#trey clover#trey clover x reader#deuce spade#deuce spade x reader#cater diamond#cater diamond x reader#twisted wonderland#oneshot
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Recovery date: March 12th, 2024
Description: You may have left it behind, but you can't just let it go. They offer you a chance to "go back" on your own terms.
Note: I don't normally do notes for these, but i did want to say that this one is more melancholic than angsty. I got the idea for this piece ages ago but could never quite figure out how to word it, and I think this is as close as I can get while keeping it general.
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Sometimes you want to go back. They can see it too.
They see it in the vague movements they catch you making when they come over. The ones you act out unconsciously when the itch strikes. It’s still muscle memory, even if your strength and flexibility aren’t nearly what they were.
“Do you miss it?” They ask one day.
You’re both in the kitchen making dinner, and you’re mocking out an old practice exercise. You don’t stop what you’re doing when you look up at them, legs still moving about.
“Sometimes… some of it.”
“Why did you stop?”
Whatever the reason you left, be it injury or environment, it’s obvious to them how much you still miss it. They can see how bad it kills you inside, how even though it's been a few years the wounds haven’t healed, but they can also see how you aren’t over it. There’s something about it you miss, that-
“I’ve thought about going back, just on my own terms, but I don't know… something about it feels wrong.”
“You don’t have to go back to any kind of unit,” they offer, “we can just do it together.”
For the first time during your conversation, you pause. A small smile pulls at your lips.
“That sounds fun.”
#researcher s's recovery#free iwatobi swim club#free eternal summer#free dive to the future#kuroko no basket#haikyuu#daiya no ace#ace of the diamond#blue lock#free x reader#haikyuu x reader#daiya no ace x reader#ace of the diamond x reader#kuroko no basuke x reader#kuroko no basket x reader#knb x reader#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#oneshot#slight angst
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Welcome to the land of Disney Villains
Some may be nice, some aren’t. Be careful. There are consequences.
{Characters you may request}
heartslabyul:
Riddle Rosehearts (Housewarden)
Trey Clover (Vice housewarden)
Cater Diamond
Deuce Spade
Ace Trappola
Savannaclaw:
Leona Kingscholar (Housewarden)
Ruggie Bucchi (Vice housewarden)
Jack Howl
Octavinelle:
Azul Ashengrotto (housewarden)
Jade Leech
Floyd Leech
Scarabia:
Kalim Al-Asim (housewarden)
Jamil Viper (vice housewarden)
Pomefiore:
Vil Schoenheit (house warden)
Rook Hunt (vice housewarden)
Epel Felmier
Ignihyde:
Idia Shroud (housewarden)
Ortho shroud
Diasomnia:
Malleus Draconia (housewarden)
Lilia Vanrouge
Silver
Sebek Zigvolt
Others:
• Neige Leblanc
• Crewel
• Crowley
Rules:
Will be accepting smut
You may request fluff, angst, or Yandere
Request word maximum most be 200
Ortho would only be Fluff, Angst, or Yandere, NO SMUT
Enjoy your poison…
#writing#fiction#literature#oneshot#riddle rosehearts#twisted wonderland#twst#trey clover#cater diamond#ace trappola#deuce spade#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#twisted wonderland azul#jade leech#floyd leech#kalim al asim#twisted wonderland jamil#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#epel felmier#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#silver twisted wonderland#sebek zigvolt#idia shroud#ortho shroud
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Ayo I wanna write what if scenarios about different characters overblotting 👀👀 someone give me suggestions Or else it’s just eel times again
#twst oneshot#twst#overblot#jade leech#floyd leech#epel felmier#jack howl#sebek zigvolt#cater diamond#trey clover#ace trappola#deuce spade#ruggie bucchi#rook hunt#kalim al asim#lilia vanrouge#twst silver#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#jamil viper#idia shroud#vil schoenheit#ortho shroud#malleus draconia
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HEARTSLABYUL: What they are like drinking/doing drugs at a party?
(In collaboration with @dianymphii)
Riddle: Sad drunk. Very little tolerance. Cries about all the rules he’s breaking to Trey in the bathroom
Trey: He gets pleasantly drunk, and then Jade offers him some mushrooms and he chills on the couch having a pleasant trip then sleeps.
Deuce: Doesn’t really like being drunk. He used to think he did, but what he really liked was the edge factor of breaking the rules. Now that that’s gone…it’s meh.
Cater: Oh baby he does it all. Yes he will have what you are offering, even though he knows he’ll regret it in the morning. But #Yolo you know? The pictures from the party is going to do ROUNDS and he’s not gonna miss out. Haha anything to keep the pain at bay, to keep the attention on him.
Sure it hurts when Jade does that impression of him. But, it was funny how pathetic he is, so he laughs along with everyone. He doesn’t remember much else of the party. It’s all a blur.
Cater wakes up in an unfamiliar place, even with his head pounding and feeling like shit he can tell this isn’t his bed before opening his eyes. He doesn’t remember crashing or who he might have gone back with. Both of these things are unsurprising. It is a bit unusual that he doesn’t feel the warmth of anyone next to him.
He slowly sits up, eyes still closed. Maybe he actually managed not to sleep with anyone last night?
When he finally opens his eyes against the pounding headache, he looks out the window and sees fish swim by. Octavinelle.
He looks to the other side of the room and his heart almost leaps out of his chest; a smile. He might have let out a screech given the increased pounding of his headache and the way that smile becomes more amused.
“Good morning, Cater.”
Cater stares blurrily at Jade, who is sitting up in the opposite bed, and says nothing. He turns away grabbing his head, the images of last night’s imitation flashing through his mind.
Cater quickly pulls down the covers and goes to get out of the bed, thankful at least that he doesn’t need to find any of his clothes though he feels sticky…did he sleep with Jade??? He throws his feet over the side of the bed and as he’s about to stand up, his feet hit something squishier than he was expecting. The eel across the room coughs, and when Cater looks up Jade has his mouth hidden behind behind a hand; he was laughing at him.
Cater looks down and forces a chuckle out himself, even if he really wanted to cry. On the ground, Floyd laid, pants down just enough to reveal evidence of their encounter last night.
He scrambles onto unoccupied ground, willing to risk Riddle catching him without his shoes just to get out of the situation. He walks only as slowly as to keep the façade of not running away, hand reaching out to the doorknob when there is a throat clear. Cater closes his hand around the doorknob, but turns.
Jade smiles at him again, nodding to the left of the door where his shoes were placed neatly. Cater knows neither himself nor Floyd did that. Cater wonders if he had made himself semi-presentable. If it was himself who pulled the blankets around him…or…
Cater snatches his shoes, hastily putting them on. He could hate himself about this whole thing later, in his room, where no one can see him do it.
He’s halfway out the door when, “Cater?”
He reluctantly turns around, Jade appears to be smiling even wider than before.
“I hope you enjoyed your stay. Come again.”
Cater can’t help the laugh that escapes him before he closes the door behind him.
And if that laugh sounded more like a sob, well, it’s not like Jade could see him any more pathetic than he already does.
Ace: Annoying asshole (more than normal) drunk.
#twisted wonderland#twst#twst hcs#twst headcanons#cater diamond#drug use#alchohol use#snippet#fanfic#oneshot#angst#floyd leech#jade leech#cater diamond x Floyd leech#deuce spade#ace trappola#trey clover#riddle rosehearts
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hi, i hope you’re well! am i able to request okumura x reader where they take a nap together? :’) i love ur okumura series SO much
Where One Goes, The Other Follows
Okumura Koushuu x Miyuki!reader
Warnings: implied female reader, super fluffy, Mura has long hair bc I say so
A/n: Hello Hello! I'm so glad people are vibin' with the Mura and Miyuki!reader thing because I think it's super cute. This was really fun to write, enjoy 💕
“Are you sure it’s ok for me to be in here?”
You rolled your eyes and turned to face your bedroom doorway before plopping down onto the plushy comforter of your bed. Okumura stood awkwardly at the threshold that separated the hallway from your room; the boy shifted under your gaze as he stood silently, his eyes glided over the little knick knacks and photos he could see from the doorway that decorated the space.
“You’ve been in here so many times before,” you huffed, “Why are you worried about something like that now?”
The catcher sighed, giving in at your words because, well, you were right. Okumura had been in your room many times before, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt different—you both were older now, had long since moved past the “just friends” stage, and this was your personal room, not a Seidou dorm room.
“Kou stop stressing and come cuddle with me,” you whined before flopping onto your back, your hand extended into the air silently asking for him to join you. You heard the boy sigh again, followed by the soft sound of footsteps on carpet. A calloused—but gentle—hand intertwined with the one you were holding up and slowly both of your hands rested comfortably on the bed as Okumura settled down beside you.
A happy hum left you as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend and moved to lay on top of his chest, flat down on your stomach, head resting comfortably on his shoulder—the same content noise came from the catcher beneath you, one of his hands coming to sit securely on your back.
You laid on him, contentedly in each other’s holds for a few long, silent minutes, the only sound filling the room being the soft breathing of the two occupants. Your right hand drifted softly across his chest and shoulder, drawing random patterns on the toned muscles that lay beneath the cloth. Your focus moved from his chest to the long strands of blonde hair splayed out on the bed; your fingers ran through the locks, twisting them gently around your finger before letting them fall back onto the sheets below.
Okumura had changed a lot since his first year at Seidou. Physically, of course, he was different—he had gotten taller and his body had filled out more thanks to the rigorous athletic schedule the team was on; his hair had also grown longer, sitting slightly above his shoulders, but you had watched Okumura mature from a rigid, blunt boy into the observant, fair leader he was today. He had shed his cautious attitude and fallen in love with baseball again, as well as fallen in love with the girl who had shown him that baseball could be so much more than just a game.
“Your hair has gotten really long,” you said quietly, brushing the loose strands away from his face. Okumura hummed in agreement, his free hand twisted the ends as he inspected the blonde lock.
“I’ll cut it after graduation.”
“That's just a few months away,” you whispered. Your third and final year at Seidou was coming to a close faster than you wanted it to. Summer break had just started, but that also marked the beginning of the end for working as the team's manager with the summer Regional Tournament just around the corner.
You were starting to understand how Kazuya felt when he was in his third year.
“If you were drafted by a team, would you go?”
It was an innocent question, but it hung in the air with fatal intent. Okumura was your rock, and you were his. If he left you’re not entirely sure how you’d handle it—you’d be reliving what you had two years ago, but this time instead of your brother leaving, it’d be your boyfriend.
“I don’t really know,” he said. Okumura’s hand ran comfortingly up and down your back, “I guess it would depend on what team it was.”
“Oh.” You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, melting into his touch as his hand continued to trace soothing circles on your back.
“No matter what happens, you’ll always be a priority for me,” Koushuu whispered. He shifted the both of you onto your sides so you could face each other. “I want to stay with you; no amount of pro teams could convince me to live apart from you.”
“Even the SoftBank Hawks?” you teased as you pulled him into a hug.
Okumura’s face scrunched up in distaste at the mention of the team.
“I would turn them down instantly,” he said. Okumura pulled you closer to his chest and nestled his face into the crook of your neck. “I do not want to be on the same team as your brother.”
“But it’d be so much easier for me to cheer for one team than two.”
“Then you can cheer for my team when I win against your brother,” he quipped back before pressing kisses from your neck to your jaw. The sensation of your boyfriend’s lips grazing your skin caused laughs to escape from you as you tried to wiggle from his reach, but his hands held you in place, trapping you in his arms.
“Ok, ok!” you squeaked out between laughs, “you’ve made your point! You're the better catcher!”
Okumura pulled away from your neck and placed a final kiss on your forehead. He looked down at you in his arms, a warm feeling filled his chest as he watched you.
“I’ll need that on paper.”
“Sure, Koushuu,” you whispered back, a slight laugh breaking through in your voice as you leaned your head up to kiss him properly.
When you broke apart he pulled you closer to his chest and tucked your head under his chin. You stayed there, in the safety of his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both slowly drifted to sleep, knowing that no matter where one went, the other would be right beside them hand in hand.
#kayquests#okumura koushuu x reader#okumura koushuu x miyuki!reader#okumura koushuu#daiya no ace x reader#daiya no ace#ace of the diamond x reader#ace of the diamond#okumura koushuu oneshot#okumura koushuu scenario
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