#miyuki kazuya is bad at feelings

[kazuyalvr]

Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader

In which you and Miyuki Kazuya share a special moment while waiting for the train…

- warnings: none

- notes: this is my first fanfic in a while so sorry if it’s a little bad 😶 and ty to my friend who inspired this idea

Being in the train station during rush hour in Tokyo is never fun. It’s always too crowded on the platform with sweaty bodies squeezing through. If you weren’t cautious enough, it was easy to get crushed or lost in the crowd of people.

As much as you hated rush hour, this one was a little more bearable since Miyuki Kazuya was standing right by your side. You and Kazuya had just finished watching a baseball game between the Yomiuri Giants and the Yakult Swallows. And of course, the game had to end just at the start of rush hour.

Looking down at your phone while waiting, the train should have been here around five minutes ago.

“The train is unusually late today…” You sighed peering at the train tracks to see if anything was arriving. There was nothing to be seen or heard though.

“Just means I get to spend more time with you before heading back to the dorms.” Kazuya teased. You let out a little chuckle at his words.

“Hmmm, maybe that doesn’t sound so bad. But still, I hope it gets here soon though. I’m not liking how the platform is filling up.” Shifting your balance from one foot to another, you started to feel rather uncomfortable. It was hard to stay calm when more people began pushing through.

Suddenly, a man in business attire accidentally pushed you into the crowd. Losing your footing, you felt yourself slip on your steps and begin to fall. Unable to catch yourself, you accepted your faith of falling on the subway platform. But, then you felt an arm circle around your waist keeping you up. Peering up at the person who caught you, you locked eyes with your boyfriend.

“Are you hurt?” He pulled you back to stand properly.

“Just accidentally got bumped a little too hard. I’m all fine though, don’t worry.” Giving him a reassuring smile, Kazuya was still feeling unnerved.

Without any words, Kazuya wrapped his arms around you from behind. He settled his head right atop of yours while his arms held you close against his chest. Kazuya was never one for public affection, so this was definitely out of both of your comfort zones.

“Wha- What’s this for?” You stuttered. This hug was unexpected, but it was comforting. It was exactly what you need at that very moment. All the anxiety suddenly washed away from your body.

“Hmmm…nothing. Just wanted to hold you.” His actions didn’t need to be explained for you to understand his intentions.

Continuing to wait for the crowded train, he still kept you in his arms rocking back and forth. No words needed to be exchanged between the two of you. You felt his warmth radiate off his body helping to you calm down. This was a type of affection you could get used to.

“Thank you…” You whispered softly. You didn’t expect him to hear you, but he did. Instead of responding with words, he held you even closer to him and continued softly rocking you.

Even when the light of an incoming train started becoming brighter, he didn’t let go. He still held you by his side all the way back to the dorms.

#daiya no ace #ace no diamond #ace of diamond #miyuki kazuya #miyuki kazuya x reader #miyuki kazuya x you #miyuki x reader #daiya no a x reader #daiya no ace x reader #diamond no ace x reader #ace of diamond x reader #daiya no ace scenario

[prettyiwa]

Miyuki Kazuya x AFAB!Reader Content Tags: Domestic Sex, Sleepy Sex, Sleepy Kazuya's a Fuckin SAP!~, Hints of Orgasm Denial, Hints of Overstimulation, Creampie Word Count: 850

@princesskazuya, @no1frogfan

Kazuya doesn't like how late you work. It's not too bad, considering you do most of your work at home—you're always out of the office by four each afternoon—but the time he gets to see you is so limited as it is. He doesn't like the long hours of practice that keep him away, even in the off season, and he doesn't like the long hours of work that keep you busy in the time that remains. He loves each of his games, though he hates that they mean he's away for three to six days depending on the schedule.

When he's home, he wants to spend that time with you.

Lately, you've been tasked big projects, one right after the other, ones that will help rocket you to the top if done right, so he often finds himself going to bed without you. You try to remind him that he wakes up beside you each morning, but that doesn't stop him from being greedy.

But.

With all his bemoaning aside, he's found something he quite likes in this new (annoying) schedule of yours.

You come to bed close to one or two each morning, a few hours after he's already been asleep, always trying to remain quiet for him. You'll slip under the covers beside him, warm like the furnace you are, and, without fail, he'll wrap his arms around you until you're pressed firmly back to chest. Most nights that you do this, you'll come to bed in your underwear and one of his pullovers. Once or twice you've come to bed in just your underwear.

When your ass is pressed against his crotch and you squirm against him to get comfortable, it's nearly impossible for sleepy Kazuya to stop himself from getting hard. His hands will start wandering, mapping out the body he knows almost as well as his own. You almost always push your ass into him, almost always give him a sharp inhale when you feel how much he needs you. There've only been a few times wherein you've stopped him when his fingers slip past the band of your underwear.

So hungry, just like him.

You get wet for him so easily, legs parting to let him roam, to gather your slick before he rubs your clit. It's a little lazy, but it always does the job.

By the time you get close to cumming for him, he's completely awake. His grip on you is sure, though his movements are still conservative. Without fail, you whine for him when he pulls away, though you know he'll be inside you in just a moment.

He tells you it's because he's tired while you tell him it's because he's impatient (both are equally true), but he only undresses so far until he's free, only pushes your underwear to the side as much as he needs. Some days you feel like heaven, perfectly made for him like he's sure he's made for you. Some days, sinking into you feels like coming home, like he's been gone too long and this is an irreplaceable comfort he's needed. (You can blame the sleep for his sappiness, but you never do). Regardless, the sounds you make are always just what he needs to continue.

So luscious, your keens. So wonderful, the quiet moans that escape your parted lips. A lovely, breathy sound, kept low to keep quiet, something he only hears at this time of night.

He fucks you with slow, disjointed thrusts, but you always meet them, chasing after your own end after he's robbed you of it. Some nights, he cums as soon as you do, unable to keep going because you feel too fucking good and his control's fucking shot. You don't mind when he fills you up before slowly pulling out, feeling his cum leak out of you before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Other nights, you're too much and he can't get enough, pushing past the sleep that clings to the back of his mind. He'll grab a condom from the nightstand drawer and you'll roll until you're ass up, face down, waiting for him to fuck you into the mattress. It's a little game you two play—how quiet can you keep to avoid waking the neighbors while he gives you rolling orgasms, one right after the other, pushing past his limit.

On occasion, sleep's hold is too great, but he's no less hard and you're no less wet. You'll climb on top and ride him nice and slow, more in it for prolonging your pleasure than for either of you to climax, not that he's ever going to complain. Being close and intimate with you like this is enough.

This time of night brings out a side of you he doesn't get to see in the light of day. These moments feel intimate, like whispered secrets between the two of you, well enough away from the world that no one can dare steal.

He hates to admit it, but he's grown rather fond of your late night returns to bed.

Daiya no Ace Masterlist

#miyuki kazuya x reader #miyuki x reader #miyuki kazuya smut #light smut #daiya no ace x reader #✒.ix writes #daiya.✒ #the boy

[mochisdoll]

hello!!! can i request manager!reader being childhood bffs with miyuki? MUTUAL PINING!!! :D the game between seido and inashiro is still on going in the manga now BUTTT say seido wins against them. and miyuki rushes to the dugout and lifts reader and gives her a kiss on the cheek (or lips whatever u like hehe.) miyuki saying something he'll bring the reader to summer koshien because that's what he promised her after choosing to go to seido instead of inashiro with mei. THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!

Just Like I Promised

so, I'm very vague about everything regarding the game, just to avoid spoiling anything for anime onlies. thank you so much for the request! i always enjoy them, hope you’re dreams are fulfilled <3

feat. Miyuki x Manager!reader

The relief washed over Miyuki all at once. It felt like someone had wound him up completely but finally let go. His teammates were surrounding him and screaming him. Kuramochi and Zono were practically on top of him, jerking him around like a ragdoll as they cheered, and he let them. Relishing in the moment, in the heat of the win.

But then he turns to you who remained in the dugout. You were there, beaming with pride, a closed lipped grin completely splitting your face, eyes a little watery, and you were staring directly at him. Your stare rested singularly on him. When your eyes met his your lips parted and your grin only became bigger.

He instinctively began to walk off the field, towards you. He had done it, fulfilled the promise he made to you, and to himself.

---

"So, you really turned down Narumiya?" You asked as Miyuki joined your side on a bench that you had slumped into as you waited for his meeting with Narumiya to end.

"I already planned to go to Seidou." He replied nonchalantly.

"Yeah but, you want to go to Koshien, that team will most definitely go to Koshien." You told him. It's not that you thought it was a bad thing to turn down Narumiya, you just wanted to make sure he'd thought it through.

"I'll still be going to Koshien, without the help of any of them. Seidou is where I'm going."

You nodded. "Guess I'm going to Seidou too."

Miyuki's headed whipped around to look at you. "What?"

"What?" You turned your head to the side to avoid his gaze, face becoming hot.

"You know you'd have to live in the dorms."

"So what..." You tried hard to keep your composure. It honestly felt like you were confessing. "It just wouldn't feel right to go where you aren't."

Miyuki did his best to mask his elation at your words. "So I guess that means you'll be my manager again?"

You had to stop yourself from saying some noncommittal response. There was no point, he was your lifelong best friend, you had no reason to act as if you didn't care. "Yeah, of course."

Miyuki smile slightly and looked away. "Well, then. I promise, I'll be taking you to Koshien with me. Summer Koshien, specifically."

He looked back at you, to see you staring at him with a warm gaze and red cheeks. "I'll look forward to it."

---

Miyuki moved past all the rest of his team as they came out of the dugout to join the players on the field, he had one goal in mind, and that was getting to you.

As he stepped down into the dugout you began to speak. "Kazuya, you-"

Miyuki doesn't wait to hear you out, instead scooping you up in his arms. You squeak as he squeezes you tightly. Having you by his side for his win only made it all the more sweeter. "You did it, Kazuya!"

"Just like you promised me." You added as he set you down.

His heart swelled over the fact that you remembered what he told you years ago, a memory that he held onto, one that motivated him.

Overcome with euphoria, he swept you to the side, blocking you from the view of the team who were still celebrating on the field. You weren't given time to think anything of it before Miyuki was kissing you.

When he pulled away, the weight of his own actions seemed to dawn on him as his expression went blank, but you didn't leave him much time for contemplation since you kissed him again a second later. Pulling him in by the front of his jersey and pressing your lips firmly to his.

Miyuki heard a wolf whistle which he would bet all of his money on was Kuramochi. He barely spared his team a quick flip of the bird as he grinned down at you.

"Just like I promised."

#miyuki kazuya #daiya no ace #ace of diamond #diamond no ace #miyuki x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader

[mangoisms]

wolves without teeth ━ miyuki kazuya

━ chapter two: need something that i can confess (’til all my sleeves are stained red) / read chapter one

━ word count: 6.2k

━ warnings: none

━ masterpost

You knew your day wasn’t going to be great. The drone and then the third degree you suffered during lunch proved that. At least things were fine in the city but this — being face to face with the one person who knows you the best, the one person who could probably figure out who you are…

It’s not great.

You jump to your feet. Too quickly, you guess, by the way he tenses and takes several steps back, eyeing you warily. 

You can only imagine what you must look like to him. 

You didn’t take after Spider-Man’s red and blue color scheme, opting for black and white — mostly black. The mask is the same, with the big white eyes, and then a hood over that. Despite working hard to be the ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman,’ you still use your slightly-creepy appearance (at night anyway) and powers to your advantage. Delphi says you look like an eldritch creature sometimes. 

With the low lighting in the neighborhood and the full moon above your heads, you understand his unease.

Still. You would rather die than ever hurt him.

Miyuki Kazuya. Your best friend. You’ve known him for over sixteen years. You’ve been with him through everything. 

Everything.

And the way he looks at you now, not like his best friend, but a stranger, a dangerous stranger… something inside you crumples.

Your chest feels heavy, each breath, each beat of your heart harder than the last. 

Your fingers twitch to unmask, to reveal yourself and say, Don’t look at me like that. You know who I am. You know me. Everything about me. I would never hurt you. Never.

You’ve avoided seeing the others like this. Mostly because you fear they might recognize you, the shape of your body, the way you move. 

You avoid Kazuya for the same reasons. And you knew, if you ever did stumble into him, you two wouldn’t exactly be buddy-buddy. But thinking that and actually being faced with it are two different things. This hostility. This guarded expression, this distrust — it hurts more than you would like to admit. Even if you should know better and should’ve realized it, that the others would regard you with wonder and amazement but not him. Never him.

You know why he doesn’t like her.

Spider-Woman, you mean.

He sees you as trouble. 

Not the good kind, either, not the kind that comes in the form of a hot-headed, passionate Southpaw pitcher with a moving fastball, with a pitching style just waiting to be turned into something great. Not a tricky batter he has to figure out how to strike out, not a pitcher he has to break down. 

You are none of that.

You are the kind of trouble that brings danger, bad luck, and misfortune. You are the kind of trouble that would put his life in danger.

“Well?”

You shake your head quickly.

“No? No to what? No to leaving?”

You open your mouth. The back of your neck explodes into tingles no don’t say anything don’t open your mouth he will know hewillknow —

Stop. Stop. Just stop. 

Your heart pounds too hard in your chest. You feel cast ashore. Struggling to get your head above the water. 

A dog barks somewhere in the distance, a cat yowls, getting into a fight with another, a few houses down, someone’s garage is opening, next door, the son and daughter of the couple there start to argue, in front of you, Kazuya shifts, a hand floating to the pocket of his pants, where his phone is —

No.

Everything comes back into focus. The extra information fades to the back of your mind. Kept in range but not your primary concern in this moment.

Your primary concern in this moment is him. And you know, you should’ve realized it, but you cannot talk. He would know instantly. He would recognize your voice. 

Sixteen years. You’ve been friends for sixteen years. 

If your roles were reversed, if he ended up like you right now, you think you’d recognize his voice. You would recognize it anywhere.

And you know it’s the same for him.

So, you shake your head again, then fold your index, middle, and ring fingers to your palm, leaving your pinky and thumb out. You point at it, then shake your head. Don’t call the cops.

He wouldn’t. It was just a bluff. But how can Spider-Woman know that?

“Oh, come on,” he scoffs. “I know you can talk. People have heard you. That’s how you got the media to call you that ridiculous name.”

Now that’s just uncalled for!

Sorry. Focus.

You shrug at him, shaking your head.

He sighs. “Whatever, I guess. I don’t really care. Could you leave?”

You should.

You really should. 

But your feet stay on the ground. You place a hand on your chest, chest heaving breaths for a moment, then using both of your hands to gesture downward, shoulders raising sheepishly. Just a few minutes to rest. Please?

Kazuya narrows his eyes. “You can’t do that on anyone else’s roof?”

A shrug. Then you clasp your hands together in another imploring gesture. 

He watches you for a second, arms still crossed tightly over his chest, every inch of his body language defensive. 

And for a reason you aren’t sure of, even after being friends with him for so long, he says, “Fine.”

But then he turns, heading for the small hatch. The hatch is in his room instead of the hall. You noticed when moving in and the owner didn’t have much to say for explaining why. None of you ever come up here because it’s kind of dangerous — completely flat without anything running along the perimeter. A simple stumble could have you falling over the side. You don’t know why Kazuya is up here but… what you do know is that he is about to leave you here alone and something like disappointment bubbles in your chest.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting. For him to stay up here and make small talk? Ask about your day? You can’t even talk around him.

So, you watch him go, disappearing back into the house. When the hatch is firmly shut and locked, you collapse onto the ground, dropping your head into your hands.

“Stupid,” you whisper to yourself. “So stupid.”

You let yourself wallow in self-pity for a few minutes before getting up. You’ll make a circuit of the neighborhood then come back. As yourself, not Spider-Woman.

Not much goes on here. A few teenagers playing a night game of soccer. They cheer when they see you, yelling out greetings. You make sure to wave back before you go. You have to make a quick escape when you glimpse a police car slowly patrolling the neighborhood.

Did he…?

No. He didn’t. He couldn’t have. He would never.

Others must have seen you and called it in. The older ones, probably, who disapprove of your actions. 

You brush off the thoughts and land in an alley near the house; a couple cats, including the newly-returned Momo, hiss at you. They usually crawl into the house’s tiny backyard through a small hole in the fence and that’s where you and Eijun feed them breakfast and dinner. 

“Aw, you know who I am. Don’t be like that,” you say, kneeling and extending your hand to her. Her emerald green eyes flash in the night. She hisses and swipes a paw at you. 

“Man, I can’t get a break,” you mutter, standing and, after ensuring no one can see you, vaulting over the fence and climbing up to your room where you quickly and quietly change into your normal clothes. You do your best to fix your appearance, then you grab your bag, drop back down, and come around the street. Terribly complicated, you know, but like always, Kazuya throws a wrench in your plans.

When you enter, you expect to find Kazuya in the kitchen or living room, but he isn’t. You frown, kicking off your shoes in the genkan, and slipping further inside. Eijun and Wakana’s bedrooms are down here and he has no business being there. 

You let yourself tune into your senses. Next door is quiet by now. So are most of the houses around. Movement upstairs. He’s here.

Like a thread connecting you two, your senses easily hone in on him, your feet leading you to his bedroom, where you push open the door and pause in the doorway as you see him climbing back down from the hatch.

“Kazuya?”

“Jesus —”

He jumps, nearly missing the last step to the ground. Every muscle in you wants to jump forward to steady him but you withhold it, seeing him regain his balance with a few well-placed expletives under his breath, feet back safely on the wood floors.

“Seriously, you have to stop doing that,” he complains, a petulant expression on his face as he turns to look at you, closing the hatch behind him.

“Sorry,” you say, meaning it. Sometimes you forget how quiet you are these days and scare the shit out of him (and the others) on accident. But to be fair, he does the same to you. 

You glance between him and the hatch, watching him stretch to his toes to lock it. 

“What were you doing up on the roof?” You don’t even have to pretend to be mystified. 

Was he… No, he was probably just checking. Just making sure you’d left eventually. Else a well-placed threat for calling the cops would come again, you’re sure. 

But you still wait with bated breath for his answer. What will he say? Will he tell you the truth? Complain about how ‘Spider-Girl’ took up post on the roof? Probably say something about making her pay rent if she keeps coming?

You get your answer in the next moment.

“Just thought I heard something.”

You laugh. It feels a little breathless. There’s no way. “Like what?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Maybe the cats got up there. But I didn’t see anything. It’s nothing, I guess.”

You latch onto the opportunity for distraction. “The cats —”

He holds up a hand, stepping around you to go back downstairs. “Relax, I already fed them.”

“Thank you.”

He waves it off. You follow him distractedly.

He lied. Kazuya lied to you. No mention of Spider-Woman. You’d have believed it, too, were it not for the fact that your senses are particularly tuned for that kind of thing and, well, you had quite literally been there.

Why did he lie?

You struggle to decide on whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

Man, who are you kidding? You know the answer to that.

Hope blossoms in your chest. Could you make him like Spider-Woman? Or at the very least tolerant? He lied — to you. His best friend. You wouldn’t have reacted negatively to hearing about it. Not at all. And yet…

You don’t know. But a part of you wants to believe that this could be hope. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks, opening the door to the fridge.

You blink, coming back to yourself. “Am I — oh. You know the answer to that. I’m —”

“Always hungry,” he finishes, chuckling. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

“Kazuya!”

He just laughs. It’s impossible for you not to smile at the sound, warmth unspooling in your chest. That heavy feeling is back again but it’s sweet, full of honey-thick warmth. 

God, you’re so…

He tosses a grin over his shoulder, amber brown eyes twinkling with mirth. Nothing like earlier. He is open to you, warm. This is how it should be.

“I’m not pregnant,” you grumble, though the effect is negated by the way your lips twitch. 

“It’s okay if you are!”

“Shut up! I’m not!” 

This is from a few months ago, when they’d all noticed your increased food intake; all of them were admittedly concerned about it and theorizing on their own as to why. Kuramochi was the one who had to bite the bullet and ask if you were pregnant, since that was the only feasible explanation they could come up with. (Kazuya privately insists he knew better but went along with it, anyway; you think he’s a big fat liar.)

While embarrassing, as you had to stammer through a firm denial that you were not pregnant — you hadn’t been with someone since last year — it was better than them concluding you were Spider-Woman. 

Kazuya shuts the fridge door with his hip, turning, hands settling on your shoulders, squeezing, a mock earnest look on his face.

“We’d help, you know. With the appointments… and then after… it’d really be more economical.”

“Help? God save a child raised by the funky bunch of idiots.”

He throws his head back and laughs. You push his chest gently, face warming at his proximity. He smells like cinnamon. 

Though you’re pushing him away, the urge to grab him and bury your face in his chest is monumental, like a tsunami crashing into you. 

You’re strong enough to lift a car and then some but in moments like these, you feel so weak.

Especially as his hand comes to your cheek, eyes narrowing at something on your face.

“Huh,” he says, reaching up to pull the band-aid on the cut on your temple free. “This looks… a lot better than earlier.”

Shit. You’d forgotten about that.

The skin is no longer red and irritated and the cut itself is scabbed over. That’s the healing factor. Great for when it comes to nastier injuries, that way you’re not hobbling around and making the others suspicious, but for the smaller stuff, the ones they notice… not great. You usually have to do some makeup magic so as to not raise alarm. 

“It feels better,” you quickly say. “Probably because of that ointment you put on it.”

“Huh.”

Your stomach rumbles at that moment, saving you as he snickers.

“Come on,” you needle him, turning him around to face the kitchen, pushing him towards the stove. “I’m hungry.”

“Make your own food!”

“Aw, but it’s never as good as yours!”

“Kiss-ass,” he mutters, turning towards the pantry to grab a bag of rice. “Fine. Go find something for us to watch.”

That’s better. You drop a kiss to his shoulder then turn away quickly. You used to be able to do things like that without a second thought. These days…

You shake your head, stepping into the living room and picking up the remote.

“What are you in the mood for?”

He blows out a breath. “To see some other people make bad decisions.”

Bad decisions, huh?

You watch his back for a moment. He moves fluidly in the kitchen, hands opening cabinets mindlessly, everything second-nature to him by this point. You remember what it used to be like, him bumbling through every move but it was necessary, because his dad wasn’t doing anything to help cook or take care of the house or the bills and you and your parents wouldn’t learn about this for a few months, but when they did, when they did, oh, they were furious. 

Your mom had you take him out of the house, so she and your dad could talk to Miyuki Kazushi — well, talk is generous. Whatever they said that day dissolved any remaining relations between your parents but he picked up his slack. Most of it. 

Kazuya still took the reins on the food. He refused to let it go. You think it was his way of coping with his mom’s death and his dad’s distance.

Now, it’s one of the main ways he takes care of the ones he loves.

You would know.

You don’t come back to the house the next day.

It’s too soon. And who knows if he is even out there?

All of this is just… wishful thinking and though you hope, you know you cannot let yourself get carried away with trying to win his approval. It might only hurt you more in the long run. 

Not to mention, this is a line you logically know you should not cross. 

You won’t.

“You better not write that in any language other than Japanese!”

“Leave me alone! I get to write my wish in any language I please!”

An arm slides around your shoulders. Kazuya pulls you into his side and he uses his other hand to try and steal the pen from you.

You grin, wiggling out of his grasp. 

“Seriously,” he whines. “First, you pick out white and you won’t tell me why. Now, you want to write your wish in a language I don’t understand.” His fingers find a ticklish spot at your ribs, above the obi tied into a bow on the right side of your waist. 

You giggle, jerking away from him. “Stop that! It’s nothing, Kazuya. I mean, it’s just… you know. We’re graduating soon.”

He rolls his eyes. “Next year.”

“This is still our last year.”

“Well, still. It’s not like we have anything to worry about.” He pulls you into his side again and the two of you step away from the vendor handing out the tanzaku in the usual five colors — purple, red, blue, yellow, and white. 

Bodies shuffle up and down the street. Hiratsuka is bustling with activity tonight, the start of the weekend for Tanabata. Located a prefecture over in Kanagawa, the five of you had jumped on the Shinkansen earlier, taking the hour and a half ride from Toshima to Hiratsuka Station, where the festival is centered around the shopping street on the north side of the station.

It’s… a lot on your senses. But there is no trouble here. Focusing on Kazuya helps.

Warm lights illuminate the street, the sun already below the horizon, most of the sky midnight blue with sparse smudges of deep purple and red. 

Above your head, decorations flutter in the breeze, glowing lanterns and fukinagashi, streamers representing threads for those wanting to be better weavers, gossamer amikazari symbolizing wishes by fishermen for full nets, hanging kinchaku bags for prosperity, and orizuru for longevity. 

You still have distant memories of your first Tanabata, when you were six. His mom was sick by that point and his dad was worried sick. In the hopes of distracting him, your parents brought the two of you to the festival, along with your siblings. 

You remember taking turns being carried on your dad’s shoulders, the tepid heat of the July evening, colorful decorations fully engaging your attention as they fluttered above your heads and even tickled your face a few times, when you came up on lower-hanging ones. 

Stage productions of the tale of Orihime and Hikoboshi regaling you while you feasted on yakitori, chicken skewers with soy sauce and karashi, and takoyaki, batter fried balls with pieces of octopus, tenkasu, pickled ginger, and onion, slathered with mayonnaise. For dessert, mitarashi dango, dumplings made from rice flour, grilled, then coated with a sweet soy glaze, and imagawayaki, a stuffed pancake-like sweet filled with custard. 

You wrote your wishes together that year. A wish shared — for Miyuki Mayumi to get better, to beat the pancreatic cancer killing her.

In the end, it would not come true.

But Tanabata remains one of your favorite holidays. Kazuya never accompanied you and your family again after that, but after high school, he started to come around again.

This year is more special, though. The five of you have made it a tradition to visit the festival when it came around, most often in Tokyo; but you and Kazuya will be leaving after graduation next year, to… well, you don’t know yet. The NPB is going to try their best to lure him to stay here a couple years and the MLB is gearing to snatch him up as soon as the draft opens. 

But regardless of where he’ll end up, you’ll be with him. You two are a package deal. If you stay here, you’ll help the team as an interpreter for the international players. If you cross the pacific, you’ll be his interpreter. 

(That’s another story for another time, but it wasn’t a conclusion you two had to come easily or quickly at all.)

So, you’re here in Hiratsuka, Kanagawa, at the Shonan Hiratsuka Tanabata Festival, one of the largest in the country. Most years, you guys didn’t dress up, but this year, at your behest, all of you did. 

You adjust your hold on the tanzaku and the pen. Your nails, freshly painted midnight blue, glint under the lights; your toes match since you’d be in sandals. The color coincidentally goes with the dark blue yukata Kazuya wears, the color flattering his light brown skin. The obi around his hips — that you’d tied for him — is white. Your yukata is pale blue, with patterns of lilies, the obi dark blue. Your makeup and hair are done, the most done up you’ve been in a while with school and your nightly escapades. 

Haruichi, Furuya, and several other old classmates had come out here, too, but you’ve all split up by this point. You’ll meet again for the fireworks. 

Kazuya nudges you over to a bamboo tree with some space left for your tanzaku. 

“Let me go first,” you say, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace and motioning for him to turn around so you could use him to write out your wish.

“It better be in Japanese,” he threatens, turning obligingly. “Like I said, it’s bad enough you’re going with white instead of yellow.”

“And what about you, huh? You never pick yellow. It’s always white! Why can’t I do white this year and why do you get to do yellow?”

“I have my reasons!”

“Well, so do I,” you laugh, clicking the pen and splaying out the white strip against his back. Despite his blustering about your color choice, he bends forward a little, helping you write easier.

Just like the idea of hanging up tanzaku on bamboo trees is supposed to help wishes come true, the color of the tanzaku has certain meanings as well. You’ve always used yellow, the color of friendship and also helpful for wishes about relationships. Now, this year, after everything, you’ve picked out white, a color for determination and responsibility. 

Kazuya used to pick that one, too. For baseball, obviously. Now, he’s picked yellow. You don’t know why but you can guess even he is feeling it, the impending separation from your friend group. Kuramochi is staying here to go to grad school for social work and Wakana and Eijun have one more year to go as well. It’s just the two of you that might be leaving. 

You know why you picked white. You need the hope, a wish for determination and responsibility to keep you on track, to keep others safe, but more importantly…

Keep my friends and family safe. 

You don’t know what you’d do if anything happened to them because of Spider-Woman.

You really don’t.

You tap his shoulder and he straightens, turning around to take the pen from you. You turn around to return the favor and also hang it up on the tree, finding a branch level with your chest and tying the tanzaku there. You feel the pressure of Kazuya holding down the strip against your shoulder, the pen moving quickly, then nothing.

You turn.

“No looking!”

“Aw, why not?”

He shoves your face away when you try to see what he’s written. You giggle, batting away his hand. 

He glares at you but it holds little heat. “Don’t ask me that, you menace — you wrote yours in German!” He stabs the pen in the direction of yours, swaying in the breeze, blue ink glistening in the aforementioned language.

You laugh at that for a while. 

You’re still giggling when he finishes tying his and quickly turns you away from the tree before you can get a glimpse of it. 

“You learn a couple languages and you get unbearable,” he says, mock disappointed, shaking his head.

“It’s good practice!”

“As if you need practice.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Well, I have to make sure I don’t run you off before I get to the US.”

“Run me off? Miyuki Kazuya, don’t insult me!” You point at him threateningly. “You’re stuck with me until we die, you hear me, mister? And then after, too!”

He grins, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you start walking again. “So, my luck holds. I’m happy to hear it.”

“Yeah, I bet you are.” You bump your hip against his. “You owe me dango for that comment.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, alright. Let’s find some.”

You come up on a stall near one of the stage productions. While Kazuya gets in line for it, you find yourself drifting toward the assembled crowd of people, mostly kids. 

You watch, a small smile tugging at your lips as the actors tell the folktale of Orihime, a gifted weaver, and Hikoboshi, a hard-working cow herder.

The story goes that after Orihime and Hikoboshi were wed, they were so in love, they began to neglect their duties. In doing so, they incurred the wrath of Orihime’s father, Tentei, the emperor of heaven. To punish them, they were exiled to separate ends of the Milky Way. They can only meet on the seventh day of the seventh month of the year, provided they are diligent in their obligations throughout the rest of the year. It’s based off real constellations, with Orihime being Vega and Hikoboshi being Altair. It’s one of your favorite tales. 

Kazuya appears at your side at one point, scaring you slightly when you realize he’s next to you.

He snickers. “Here.” He passes you a skewer with dango, golden brown and glistening. 

“Thank you,” you say, pulling off the first dumpling into your mouth. You nod towards the set-up, the narrator now connecting the story to the celebration of Tanabata. “You remember this?”

“The usual tragic love story. Sure.”

“It’s romantic.”

“Is it?” he asks, just to annoy you, you’re sure. You still offer him the dango, anyway.

“Yes, it is.”

“To you, maybe,” he chuckles, leaning forward to take the second piece of dango into his mouth. “I just think it’s proof that love makes you stupid.”

You pull the skewer back sharply, narrowing your eyes at him. “Love… is the most important thing in the world, Miyuki Kazuya.”

He looks down at you, lips quirked; the warm lights of the street turn his eyes chocolate brown, so easy to get lost into. 

“Is it?”

You tilt your head. “You love me, don’t you?”

Feelings like those always come heavy. Especially when it comes to him. Not easily spoken, not easily found, it always threatens to suffocate you when it does come up. Like now. 

He’s close enough for you to smell cinnamon, overlayed by the smell of sweet fried foods. Everything else fuzzes out. Your senses stop whispering about the others around you, the police stationed throughout the street, the potential dangers of those closest to you. 

Everything is always so much easier with him. A balm to the rest of the world. The only time you get to breathe, when things go quiet, and it’s just you, a girl in love with her best friend, crushed by the knowledge that he loves you, too. Just… in a different way.

The quirk of Kazuya’s lips eases into something softer, something more tender. A small thing, but no less brilliant, no less breathtaking, his eyes crinkling with it, looking down at you with a familiar affection that punches the air out of you like it usually does when he looks so openly at you.

“That is true,” he says softly.

Honey-thick warmth wells up in your chest, clogging your lungs and the arteries of your heart. Moments like these you can hardly believe you get the privilege of seeing that openness. But you also know it’s sixteen years of work, of friendship, of time spent together and of fights resolved. 

You’re so lucky to be here. So lucky. 

The thought overwhelms you, especially as you say, “And I love you.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you. 

You look away first. “That’s not stupid, is it?”

His hand finds yours, catcher’s callouses ticklish against the softer skin of your palms; he squeezes gently. “No. It’s not.”

You look back at the set-up. “Love does make people do foolish things. But it’s love. That distinction matters more than anything else. Maybe it doesn’t work out but the love was there, wasn’t it? It still is.”

You wonder, who are you talking about? Orihime and Hikoboshi or yourselves? You aren’t so different from them. The thing is, their love was returned. They loved too much. And you… well. The ending of that story hasn’t been written yet, has it?

Not yet.

After you finish your dango, the two of you head for the meet-up point with the others, at a small park on the other side of the street, where you’ll wait and watch the fireworks. 

You and Kazuya are the first to arrive and he excuses himself to the restroom for the moment, leaving you to lean against a large tree, branches decorated with tanzaku. A warm breeze flutters through your hair. 

You people-watch for a little bit, smiling softly as you watch excited kids drag tired-looking parents around to find good spots for the fireworks, teenagers chattering together happily, moving in groups of three or more, and older couples, alone, traversing calmly, just happy to be here with each other. 

But though your attention is on them, you still feel the slightest prickle at the back of your neck. Not a tingling sensation that tells you danger imminent, no, it’s not danger, per se, but rather —

“BOO!”

You smile. “Hey, Sachiko. What’d you guys get up to?”

Kuramochi’s familiar laugh fills the air. “I told you! She’s impossible to scare these days!”

Umemoto Sachiko, one of the old managers for Seido in your year, scowls, glaring a little at you. “What’s your secret?! That was a great scare!”

“Eh, it was okay,” Kuramochi says.

“You don’t get to talk because even you said you can’t scare her these days.”

You laugh. “There’s no secret. I’d say Mochi’s just ruined it for himself and others by scaring me too often. I’m vigilant these days.”

Heh. Vigilant.

Sachiko swats at his shoulder, grumbling. “Great job, Kuramochi. Great job.”

It’s him, Sachiko, Natsukawa Yui, the other old manager in your year, Wakana, Shirasu, and Nori. 

Sachiko and Yui only really came for you. Whenever you spared the time to visit the club, they — and your old senpai, Fujiwara, and your old kouhai, Haruno — often hung out with you. Said it was nice to talk to someone from the ‘outside.’ Sachiko is a diehard baseball fan, sure, but even they felt the lag sometimes. Being a manager was often a thankless job — at least in high school and college. That’s why you stayed away.

Well, that, and you weren’t that interested in it, anyway.

Kazuya had made the mistake of assuming you’d take up the position when you two started Seido. It had been one of your nastier arguments, mostly because you didn’t want to be a manager. You wanted to join the cheerleading team. And when he learned that, he said — That’s basically the same thing, isn’t it? 

As a matter of fact, no, it was not — the cheerleading team did cheer for the baseball games but they did for the soccer games, and they had their own meets, too.

To which he said — There’s actual competitions for cheerleading?

You didn’t talk to him for a month after that.

You’ve always supported him in his baseball endeavors. Even when he was being a weirdo about it, like when he came sprinting to you after a game against Chris-senpai’s old junior high league, raving about how he was going to go to Seido and challenge him since he was the only catcher Kazuya ever lost against. Of course, that didn’t pan out but still. You’ve always been there for him. 

But… you didn’t want to be a manager, someone relegated to the sidelines of his story. You wanted to have your own thing, too. Sure, maybe you could’ve shined enough as a manager but… on the cheerleading team, it was entirely separate. The Seido cheer club was one of the best in the Kanto region. They consistently won meets and competitions — more than Inashiro, who were really only a baseball powerhouse. You’d liked cheerleading since you were a kid. Even with all the stereotypes around it, mostly because you knew they were just that — stereotypes. Falsities. Everyone in the cheer club at Seido was kind to you and the same could be said about Waseda’s cheer club. 

Sure, in high school, you encountered a couple girls who were particularly nasty, believing this to be some kind of trashy American movie where they could be the main characters, but for the most part, it was fun. 

Kazuya understood eventually and apologized to you. Really apologized. You suspect even to this day, he feels guilty about undermining you like that. 

You still miss it now, six months after quitting. But it was too dangerous at the time. You didn’t know your own strength. If you’d kept going, you’re sure you would’ve hurt someone. Or worse. 

“So, how are things in school?” Yui asks, a warm smile on her lips. 

“Miyuki is as annoying as ever, I assume?” Sachiko tacks on. Yui makes a noise of agreement. 

You grin. “As ever. Things are good. Little weird but good.”

“Is it true you quit the cheerleading team?” Sachiko asks next, head tilting. 

You grimace. “Ah, yeah…”

“I get it,” Yui says. “I’m glad baseball activities are over by now, since it’s the last month before the term ends.”

Sachiko nods firmly. “More time to focus on your grades! Gotta make sure those Americans have no choice but to employ you!”

You laugh, relaxing, pleased they understand — that they are supportive. You understand the others’ concern but… you’d prefer this. You can’t go back on your decision so, all that there is left to do is look forward. 

“Ah, that’s exciting,” Yui sighs, a little wistful. “I’d love to go overseas.”

“Once I start making money, I’ll fly you guys out.”

They beam. 

You ask about them, how their studies are going. Yui goes to Meiji and Sachiko goes to the University of Tokyo. The former is studying chemistry to go into pharmaceuticals and the latter is doing sports medicine, intent on continuing to work with baseball but in a much more important (and recognized) position. They’ll be graduating next year in March, too, just like you, Kazuya, and Kuramochi.

“ARE WE LATE?!” Eijun’s boisterous voice interrupts your conversation. 

“We’re not late, idiot!” comes Kanemaru’s familiar bark; all of you turn, seeing him, Eijun, Haruichi, and Furuya join your group. “If we were late — we’d know.”

“Well, how do you know that?!”

“We’d be hearing the fireworks already, Sawamura,” he says, exasperated. “They haven’t gone off. So, no, we’re not late.”

“Excellent!” He turns and beams at all of you. “Hello, senpai! It’s great to see all of you!”

“You saw us earlier,” Nori points out, amusement tinging his voice.

Eijun pouts. “Well, I started missing everyone when we got split up!”

Kuramochi gets him into a headlock. “Stop being sappy!”

“Just like high school, huh?” Warm breath tickles your ear.

You squeak, jumping.

Kazuya laughs.

“Oi!” Sachiko complains. “Why does he scare you?”

A heavy arm slings over your shoulders. Kazuya smirks at her. “It’s just different between us. You wouldn’t understand.”

Kuramochi releases Eijun, who stumbles away, Haruichi steadying him with a small smile on his lips.

He looks at Shirasu and Nori, huffing. “See what I have to deal with?”

Kazuya laughs again — even when they (and most of the others) agree. 

The first pop of fireworks scares them. Everyone had lost track of time. But soon enough, you’re all turning your eyes skyward, chatter falling quiet as fireworks pop in the sky. Blue, green, red, an assortment of colors illuminating the streets and faces of those watching.

Kazuya moves behind you, tugging you into his chest, arms locking around your waist while he leans his chin on your head. The night is warm but you feel warmer, Kazuya a long line of heat against your back. Like always, being in such close proximity calms your senses. You relax. His arms tighten, a gentle squeeze, something like There you go.

This is what you’re trying to protect.

Exactly this.

#daiya no ace #ace of diamond #miyuki kazuya #sawamura eijun #kuramochi youichi #aotsuki wakana #miyuki kazuya x reader #ace of diamond x reader #daiya no ace x reader #moss writes #miyuki x reader

[abiyoichi]

daiya boys first date with you

summary: these are what the seidou boys would do as a first date

genre: fluff

characters: sawamura, miyuki, kuramochi, haruichi, furuya

sawamura eijun

he would probably take you to a roller skating rank

you weren’t too bad at roller skating yourself but eijun seemed to be struggling the most out of everyone in that room

he would repeatedly fall on his face because of his poor roller skating skills

you would speed toward him checking if he’s alright but would quickly climb back on his feet with a loud huff

“don’t worry y/n i got this!!” you watch him skate off immediately falling on his face

you would cry so hard from his mistakes that it would make a tint of blush appear on his cheeks seeing the way you smile because of him

after shedding a few tears of laughter from him, you help him back up on his feet with you holding his hand

he would be gripping onto your hand for his dear life as you led the way around the rank

after your fun at the roller skating rank ended, he takes u to a convenient store near seidou campus

he buys a bowl of ramin for the both of you to enjoy on an empty table at the front of the convenient store

the street was empty with the moon lit with the two of you enjoying each others company

it was your first date with him but soon became your most memorable one with him

miyuki kazuya

he might take you to an art museum

he seems like the type of guy who’s into certain pieces with philosophical meanings to them

he would take you to each individual painting he admires the most

he share his perspective on every painting

he’d ask your perspective on it and nods, interested in how differently you perceived it

during your trip around the museum he would carry your bag for you while wrapping his hand around yours gently swinging it back and forth

he enjoyed seeing the way your eyes lit from seeing another pretty painting near by

you would lead the way to the next painting

he would blush at the way you held onto his hand, pulling him to look at the next painting

he takes you to the gift shop, the both of you looking through the cute knickknacks

he takes a photo of you wearing some overpriced hats, enjoying the sight of you

he notices you repeatedly looking at a specific cat ring that was similar to one of the paintings you guys saw

you force a smile and asks miyuki if he’s ready to leave

on your way walking to the metro, he pulls out something out of his pocket

it was the ring you kept looking at in the gift shop

“for you…” he holds his hand up with the ring resting at the palm of his hands

you were flustered but didn’t want to accept it

he lifts your hand up and slips the ring on your ring finger

you see him smiling with pink on his cheeks

you two spend the rest of the night at his place where he cooked your favorite meal

kuramochi youichi

he would definitely take you to an arcade

he would constantly try to impress you by winning every game in the arcade

you both reached a baseball arcade game which youichi was absolutely thrilled to try

like the gentleman he is, he lets you go first and watches you pitch the plastic baseball into the hole of a catcher drawn on a flimsy wall

the ball you threw shot right into the hole making his jaw drop as you jumped with excitement seeing tickets roll out

kuramochi was impressed, but was also willing to challenge you

the two of you continued to challenge each other in almost every arcade game you were playing

when it came to the claw machines you seemed to be struggling the most with it

he decides to help you by standing behind you and putting both his hands on top of yours helping u move the controls

you feel him pressed against you back while he’s eagerly trying to help you win that stuffed cheetah toy

you both watched anxiously as the claw machine grabbed onto the cheetah

once the toy was in you hands you jump up to him, wrapping ur arms around him

he gets flustered but burying his face in the crook of your neck

the two of you continue playing the claw machine for the rest of the night until he won every single stuff toy in that machine for you

haruichi kominato

he would take you to a garden festival

he seems like he enjoys studying flowers and plants

every time you see a flower that catches your eye he would share some fun facts about them

it made you smile seeing how fascinated he was with each individual plant

you felt your fingertips brush against each other while walking side by side making the pink haired boy get flustered

you noticed a small booth selling dangos and quickly grab onto his hand, running to get in line

once you both got your snack, you continued your trip around the garden

haruichi noticed a beautiful section of the garden he hasn’t gotten the chance to take you to yet

he tells you to close your eyes as he holds onto you while leading the way

you question what he’s doing but doesn’t bother opening your eyes

he has you stand a specific spot making sure you were facing the right angle

he tells you to open your eyes

you were greeted with a beautiful glowing tunnel of bright purple wisteria

the flowery sent brushed the tip of your nose as you slowly stepped into the tunnel in awe

a smile grew on haruichi’s face seeing the way you lit up from seeing such a beautiful scenery

“shall we explore?” you ask with your hand held out for him

he chuckles and wraps his fingers around yours and continue’s your date around the garden

furuya satorou

he would take you to the zoo

specifically to see the polar bears

with his adorable obsession over those fluffy creatures, he had to see them with his favorite person

you guys would spend hours in the polar bear section

he would stare into the glass window watching the polar bears swim around and sleep on the rocks

you would take a picture of him with the polar bear

for once he was actually smiling

in the middle of you taking pictures of more polar bears he grabs onto your hand and leads you to another section

there was a tunnel for kids to crawl into with a window to see the polar bears in there own view

furuya notices it’s empty and starts to crawl inside

you were stunned by his sudden decision but follows him inside anyways

the two of you were both seated on the ground, stuffed side by side looking through the window

one polar bear swam toward your window and pressed its nose against the window

furuya eagerly leaned closer to the window with a wide grin on his face with hands pressed against the window

you noticed the pink color growing on his pale cheeks as he watched in awe with how the polar bear swam away

“thanks for coming with me y/n…” furuya was never really the thankful type

you got a little flustered but smiled brightly to him

“of course, i love spending time with you!” you lean closer to him and plant a kiss on his cheek

he quickly sat up from the unexpected kiss, and a soft smile slowly appeared on his lips

he grabs your hand and leads you out of the kids window

the two of you spend the rest of the day looking at other animals, and finally leaving the zoo with a stuffed polar bear toy in furuya’s hands

a/n: this was my first ever tumblr post i hope you enjoyed!! i plan to post more soon

#sawamura x reader #sawamura eijun x reader #miyuki x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader #kuramochi x reader #kuramochi youichi x reader #kominato haruichi x reader #furuya x reader #furuya satoru x reader #daiya no ace #diamond no ace #diamond no ace headcanons #diamond no ace x reader #daiya x reader

[terriblesportsimagines]

I am so pleased that the ask box is open 💕 Could I request any dad / family headcanons you might have for Kuramochi (Daiya), Mei (Daiya), Miyuki (Daiya), and Kise (KNB). Including, if possible, how many children you imagine them to have and their relationship with their in-laws. I simply adore adore adore your blog and writing 💕

 I feel like I’ve done a lot of dad headcanons for Daiya lol  So, if there is some repetition, I apologize in advance

Kuramochi Youichi

This one likes kids and gets along with them.  Is the kind of dad that brags about his kids, all of them, even about the most minor things.  There is no one prouder of his babies than he is.

He’s a very involved father.  I’ve always imagined him doing some profession that lets him set his own hours and give him a lot of freedom (like photographer, or artist).  He’s definitely not the typical salaryman who works 50-60 hours a week and never sees his family.  He’s taking the kids out whenever he can.  Mourns them growing up.

I can see him with three kiddos.  It’s a good number, and it means that his kids always have their siblings.  He grew up an only child and found it lonely.  Plus, three is okay to corral and keep track of, any more and he’s truly outnumbered.

Adult Mochi is easy to get along with and a lot of his sharp edges have been refined, so he gets along easily with his in-laws.  They like him because he’s so involved with the kids and because he helps his partner achieve their dreams.

Honestly, 10/10 husband and dad

Narumiya Mei

He wants to be a good dad, and he definitely tries hard.  It’s difficult when playing professional baseball though, since he has an average of six games a week during the season.

He’s great with them as babies, but as they grow, he feels uncomfortable and unsure.  He has a bit of a temper, and he doesn’t really get that it’s pointless to argue with a five to sixteen year olds.  He loses a lot to his toddlers.

Better with girls, because his girls are his little princesses.  Totally the dad that sits at a tiny, cramped table and has tea parties, complete with dolls and follows every direction given.

That’s not to say he’s bad with boys, especially if they have interests in sports, and things he does.  Would definitely be lost with an introverted, bookworm/‘nerdy’ son.  Would feel like he didn’t understand him and gets awkward.  He tries, but often puts his foot in his mouth.

Probably two kids max.  He’s also selfish and he still wants a significant portion of his partner’s time just to himself. 

His in-laws probably like him just fine, though they are less of a fan of how showy and loud he is, and how he soaks up the fame.  To them, it seems like he doesn’t consider his family when cultivating his celebrity, and that’s true in the beginning, but he gets better over time.

7.5/10 husband and dad

Miyuki Kazuya

He also has ridiculous game schedules, but unlike Mei, he’s completely uninterested in fame and almost always wishes he were at home with his partner and babies then out.  He’ll do endorsements, but if they cut into his family time, it’s a no go.

He’s very domestic, and cooks every meal he can.  Even uses his day off to make his family snacks and meals they can eat when he’s on the road.  Definitely makes his own babyfood, this bitch is picky AF about when he feeds his kiddos.

He’s also very good at helping out around the house when he can, to make things easier on his partner.  His favorite time, however, is the time he gets to spend with his little ones, or as a family.  Will do anything with them, even if he’s bad at it (like drawing).  Enjoys teaching them things.

Can compromise and evolve with his children’s interests.  The type of parent that looks into the things they like so he can at least converse on the basic level with them.  Doesn’t want them to ever think they can’t talk to him.  He may tease and poke, but not so hard it causes rifts.  As they gain personalities and the like, he’s very careful with them.

He was an only child and he lost his mom when he was very young, thus one of his most secret dreams is to have a family.  He wants to belong and have somewhere to come home to.  He’s fine with any number of kids, but I feel like two would be best so he can focus the time he has.

Would make the best house husband, and it’s something he wants to do, if he and his partner can manage it.  It would be the best thing in the world just to stay home and take care of his family.

In-laws love him.  He’s so helpful and skilled that his mother-in-law especially adores him.  They don’t often get to see his worst traits, or the way he teases, however lol

12/10 perfect husband and dad

Kise Ryouta

He has a lot of growing up before he can be a steady father.  I think he waits to have kids until he’s in his late twenties or early thirties.  He wants to maximize his career!  But also, his time with you, because this is another greedy, kind of selfish blond lol

As long as he is ready, he’ll do well.  If he’s not, there will be an adjustment period for him and it could be difficult. 

If there is a pregnancy (and not adoption) he’s great at taking care of you.  He might bitch inside, but he’s smiling and getting up to go to the convenience store in the middle of the night to get the thing his partner insists they need right now.  Very good at pampering.  He’s careful with his partner, since he recognizes that they are doing all the work.  He’s right there in the delivery room, though he might faint lol

Newborns aren’t active enough for him, so he complains for the first few months that they don’t do anything.  That being said, he is CRUSHED if he misses any of their milestones

Once they are more active, he spends a lot of time playing with the babes, which actually leads him to forgetting about the responsibilities he has around the house.

Is terrified to be left alone with them, especially as babies.  What if something happens?  Absolutely the type to panic if the baby cries and he can’t get them to stop. 7.5/10 husband/dad because he has a few hang ups and the transition is a bit hard.  He tries very hard though.

#daiya no ace #kuroko no basket #kuramochi youichi #miyuki kazuya #narumiya mei #kise ryouta #headcanons

[pagsys-writings]

what better way to escape a maze than through it?

ao3 link

Rating: General Category: M/M Fandom: Daiya no A / Ace of Diamond Relationship: Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun

@flufftober Day 6 - Corn Maze

Kuramochi stretches his legs out in front of him. His muscles ache and cramp from being in one position for too long. The bench’s wooden back that he’s leaning against presses uncomfortably against his spine as he slowly melts off the seat. He sighs as he shifts his fingers around the styrofoam cup filled with deliciously warm apple cider. The heat emanating from the cup keeps his fingers warm in the chilly autumn air. But besides the chill — Kuramochi lifts his gaze toward the nearly cloudless blue sky — it’s a beautiful day.

“How long’s it been?” he asks Miyuki beside him.

His irritating boyfriend is the picture of calm and collected. Where Kuramochi is itching to move, Miyuki sits with his back tall against the bench with one leg crossed and his hands — holding his own cup of cider — resting in his lap.

With a hum, Miyuki glances at his phone. The only sign of annoyance comes from his sigh. “Six minutes,” he mumbles before taking a sip of his cider and sighing in relief.

Kuramochi lowers his gaze to stare at the wall of corn in front of them. The stalks stand firm as their leaves rustle in the breeze. “Should we… help him?”

There’s a loud squawk of frustration from somewhere deep in the maze. Despite the crowds of people meandering around them, Kuramochi swears he can hear Sawamura cursing the very maze he promised to solve on his own. The corner of his lips curls up at the memory because, of course, he had baited the younger a little bit as well.

“No way,” Miyuki immediately shuts down the idea with a wave of his hand. “I bet you a week of lunches I can win in less than ten minutes!” Miyuki does a shockingly good impression of Sawamura’s emphatic declaration from six minutes earlier.

Kuramochi snorts before he lets out a loud cackle. They both hear Sawamura call out for him from somewhere within the maze. “You know if you’re tired of always cooking, you could just say so.”

“Nah.” Miyuki smiles slightly. His leg sways until his knee lightly bumps into Kuramochi’s thigh. “It’s just entertaining to watch Sawamura struggle to cook while refusing any sort of help.”

Shaking his head, Kuramochi digs his feet into the ground and pushes himself back up into a more comfortable sitting position. His back relaxes — his muscles are relieved when the painful edge of the wooden back is removed. “You’re mean.”

“You’re the one that told him Mei solved the corn maze on his own in ten minutes,” Miyuki shoots him a look. “And we both know he had half his team with him and that Shirakawa probably did all the work.”

Kuramochi grins and shrugs. “Oops?” he says as he sips his drink and Miyuki laughs at the false remorse on Kuramochi’s face.

They fall into silence as they continue to listen for Sawamura in the maze. The bench sits just off the side of the exit. Every now and then they can hear his loud voice probably yelling at the corn to let him out. It makes them smile.

“How much longer?” Kuramochi asks again.

“Just over a minute,” Miyuki replies and they both grin, knowing Sawamura won’t make it in time. “Is it too cruel to make him pay for all the food he’s bound to screw up?”

Kuramochi hums as he thinks it over. “Kind of? Only if it starts becoming too much food.” He doesn’t like wasting food if he can help it. He also knows that Miyuki and Sawamura feel the same. “It if gets too bad, we should probably help him out with the cooking.”

With a nod, Miyuki agrees. He lifts up his phone. The timer counts down and Kuramochi grins. Fifteen seconds left . Free lunch is just within sight. As the timer hits ten seconds, both he and Miyuki begin to whisper the numbers.

“Ten… nine… eight…” There’s a strange yelling coming from the corn maze. “Seven… six…” Children shout in surprise. “Five…” Is a child crying ? “Four… Three…” Kuramochi frowns as he glances up at the maze. “Two…” Sawamura’s battle cry sounds loud and clear. “One…” 

Just as the timer hits zero and begins its annoying beep, Sawamura crashes through the wall of corn. His chest heaves as he tries to slow his breathing. There’s hay stuck in his hair, his clothes are disheveled, and his eyes are wild. Behind him, through the exit he created for himself, two children and a parent stare out in shock and confusion. Kuramochi can see the broken stalks going deeper into the maze.

“I made it!” Sawamura shouts. Kuramochi can’t tell if it’s from relief or joy… maybe a little of both. “I beat Mei!”

Miyuki stares at Sawamura. “You know you’re supposed to find the exit, not create your own… right?” Kuramochi can’t help it. He doubles over in laughter as Sawamura’s face crumples when Miyuki tells him he still owes them lunch for a week.

Once he calms down, Kuramochi lifts a third cup of cider from the bench beside him. “Here,” he says as Sawamura starts arguing about the rules and that he just needed to get out of the maze in time and not find the exit. “Stop being a sore loser and drink some cider.”

With a pout, Sawamura gives in. He gratefully takes the cup and squeezes between Kuramochi and Miyuki to savor their body heat. Without even thinking, Kuramochi and Miyuki both drape their arms around Sawamura’s back.

“I hate corn mazes,” Sawamura whines after a moment, sending Kuramochi into another fit of laughter.

#flufftober2023 #day 6 #daiya no ace #ace of diamond #kuramisawa

[aowyn]

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

tagged by @valiantnomore <3 <3 <3 thank you for the tag! :D i havent done one of these in so long!

Three ships: qifrey/therapy <3 jkjk 

miyuki kazuya/sawamura eijun (crossfire permanently changed my brain chemistry)

mei changsu/xiao jingyan (i havent actively sought out nif content in like a year but every once in a while i think about either of these two for like a second too long and it takes me out. i have so many FEELINGS)

Last song: i did this ask game while listening to the album 千分の一夜物語 スターライト by amazarashi so take your pick XD i will say it was 空っぽの空に潰される. i really like the chorus of the song because it has a nice rhythm in japanese which is 

楽しけりゃ笑えばいいんだろ

tanoshikerya waraeba iindaro

when something’s fun, you laugh, right?

悲しい時は泣いたらいいんだろ

kanashii toki ha naitara iindaro

when you’re sad, you should cry, right?

虚しい時はどうすりゃいいの？

munashii toki ha dou surya ii no?

when i’m empty, what am i supposed to do?

教えて 教えて

oshiete, oshiete

tell me, tell me

Last movie: the new ant man movie! (i saw it with @maebird-melody and another friend :D) i actually had no idea there was even a new ant man movie until like an hour before we went to see it because i dont know anything about marvel

Currently reading: im in the middle of rereading Nine Quarters of Jerusalem by Matthew Teller! i think it’s a really interesting look at the old city of jerusalem through stories of people, especially palestinians and ethnic and religious minorities, who call it home. it does a great job of giving the reader a picture of a living, breathing city rather than the different kinds of ideas of the past and the future people project upon the city without having lived there. also it rips into the british empire so big plus for that

Currently watching: i am super duper bad at watching stuff like so bad so i have no idea actually. i am relistening to the adventure zone balance arc if that counts!

Currently consuming: i bought a sencha tea in japan last month that i really like! i am trying not to consume it too quickly because i dont want to run out but it’s so hard XD

also i am going through spray paint like there’s no tomorrow bc i have two weeks to finish my thanatos cosplay and the com crunch is so frickin real

Currently craving: the things i would do for in n out burger

i tag @morluin @andreth-with-a-sword @shineoftherainbow @maebird-melody @crazychopstick @morifiinwe @aredhels @feanor @dragqueenlestat (and anyone else who wants to do it! consider yourself tagged! <3)

#thank you for tagging me!! <3 #this was a lot of fun :D #said el #things im in

[museguided]

@shrapnelsong​ sent: Seeing Miyuki walking towards the bullpen while his group was supposed to be running was strange enough that Alice stopped taking notes to get a better look, finally noticing the red streak across his cheek when he'd gotten close enough. Apparently, a wayward hit was headed straight to him and, impressively, the catcher's reflexes allowed him to avoid a ball to the face, with it only grazing him instead. Motioning for him to sit down, she went to wash her hands, returning with the first aid kit and an ice pack. Thankful that his glasses had been spared from the incident, she took them off to give herself more room to work with and cleaned the long scrape, applying some ointment to it. Of course, as soon as that was done, all Miyuki wanted to do was head straight back to the training grounds, but she held him back. "You are way too handsome to ignore an injury to your face. Let me finish." She still had to protect the area, especially if he was going to run around in the dirt again. And if she could convince him to ice it for 10 minutes, even better. (:3c) 

There was no getting out of this one. Kazuya broke away from his concerned group with quick reassurances, waving off the batter that had run over to apologize profusely. For a first-year, the swing had some impressive power behind it and he could feel it in the way his cheek smarted when he tried a low whistle, his heart pounding out of his chest. As long as he wasn’t bleeding and that nothing was broken, he thought he could at least carry on with practice after a check-up with the managers. But Sakurazuka’s expression said otherwise and his face stung with the wry smile he gave her.

Far be it for him to oppose her unless he had a mirror to prove it to himself. He took a seat without complaint, subtly working his jaw while she was gone to get a feel for how bad it was. When she came back with the kit, though his brows raised, he was no longer skeptical. He lifted his chin to look up at her, giving her better access to the scrape that ran across his cheek that bloomed crimson red from irritation and blood that had welled. Then he blinked and blinked again with wider eyes when she removed his sports glasses, mouth parted on a word that stopped on his tongue as she began her treatment. Instead, he pursed his lips and looked away, careful not to make a face as she gently cleaned the wound.

“Feel better, already,” he murmured when she drew away, already looking for the glasses she had set aside when he felt a firm press on his shoulder. “Sakurazuka-san, I-ah...” He had a half-hearted complaint in mind, some pointless needling when he knew she wouldn’t budge an inch.

However, all of that was promptly thrown out the window and all he could do was stare, stupefied. He was also growing slightly unnerved at the way she kept a straight face until he noticed she was expecting a response. Most likely a quip to her stubbornness if her expression’s anything to go by- because that was their usual pattern, of course. He licked his lips and found his thoughts tied up in her words, unable to do much else but echo them back.

A small laugh escaped in a huff; if she had planned this to stump him, she had thoroughly succeeded. Kazuya closed his eyes, noting with an intense concentration that his contacts were dry, not that he was avoiding her to regain his bearings. “Okay,” he relented, leaning his head back until it bumped lightly against the wall behind his seat. It was warming up and the heat from his scrape wasn’t doing any favors. “Okay. If you want, we can play doctor-patient for a while longer.”

Opening his eyes a slit, he peeked at her through his lashes. “But could you repeat what you said one more time? I just want to make sure I understand your reasoning.”

#shrapnelsong #(ic. Kazuya Miyuki) #(ask. unprompted) #(but kinda prompted lol) #(the icon manip was never more necessary) #(took away his defenses and hit him with a crit all at once wOW)

[crownedcitrus]

Here’s a list of some of my favorite characters! I’ll try to keep it to one character for one anime… that’s why JJk isn’t on here. I literally couldn’t pick one. Maybe I’ll add more in the future. Who knows.

My dms are open if you want to gush about them to!:

Tsukishima Kei, Haikyuu!

Oh Tsukki, there isn’t enough words in the English language to explain how down bad I am for you… prick. This living, breathing salt shaker is my all time favorite character. All the fics, fanart, head cannons: I eat that shit up. Top of the simp list without a doubt.

Bakugo Katsuki, My Hero Academia

I hate him your honor. It’s funny because when I first watched MHA… I HATED him. Soon after I started reading the manga (I’m not caught up don’t hate me) and OH BOY. It’s the idea of cute aggression from him… I’ll write it at some point.

Hirotaka Nifuji, Love is Hard for an Otaku

Hey siri, show me this guy’s balls. The way I got giddy seeing this man. He’s just so… give me rope, coconut oil, and 3 hours is all I’m asking for. The glasses stay on… I’m so normal about him, I swear.

Miyuki Kazuya, Ace of Diamonds

YA KNOW WHO IM NOT NORMAL ABOUT. THIS LITTLE SHIT… Call me Kirby the way I wanna SUC-. My Character AI list used to be FULL of this dude. Miyuki single handily got me into baseball and now I’m biased of all catchers. If Tsukki is first then this guy is a CLOSE second… the reason why he isn’t first is because I haven’t finished the anime nor read the manga. how did this puddle get here?

Takayuki Mima, Play It Cool, Guys

If I could give him the whole world, it wouldn’t be enough to convey how strongly I feel for him. (Also I highly recommend this anime if you haven’t watched it. Cute guys being clumsy. That’s the whole plot.)

[lazuliquetzal]

[Tag] Miyuki Kazuya is Bad at Feelings

I BENT OVER BACKWARDS TRYING TO KEEP THE "Miyuki learns to apologize" SCENE IN BUT IT GOT CUT AND I'M FOREVER MAD ABOUT IT

The night before playing Teitou High, Miyuki knocks on Nori’s door. The relief pitcher opens up. Nori’s hair is still wet from the baths, and he’s already in his pajamas. Upon recognizing Miyuki, his expression shifts to one of confusion, and he tilts his head. “What’s up?” he asks. Miyuki scratches the back of his neck. “I need… advice.” Nori looks at him. “How do you apologize to someone?”

Nori blinks — and then understanding crosses his face, and he lets out a disbelieving laugh.

“Are you serious?”

Miyuki’s cheeks burn, but he persists anyway. “Yes.”

“You know, for someone who tries not to have a personal life, you sure have the weirdest one out of everyone on this team,” Nori tells him.

Miyuki frowns. “This is the first time I’m talking to you about this?”

“I’m a keeper of many, many secrets,” Nori explains. He sighs and leans against his doorframe, his expression somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Akira, or Eijun?”

“Eijun,” Miyuki replies, and then the question fully registers in his brain, and he stiffens. “Wait, do I need to apologize to Akira, too?”

“Did you do something to him?” Nori asks, genuinely curious.

“No,” Miyuki says, and then he hesitates, replaying every moment of sarcastic banter he’s shared with his roommate. Akira would say something if that offended him, right? And Akira fires right back — with a lot more vitriol than Miyuki uses — so it’s not like he’s innocent in all this, either.

“I don’t think I did anything to him,” Miyuki decides. “Besides, uh. Besides… hurting Eijun…”

“Okay, good,” Nori says. “Luckily for you, apologizing to Eijun is easy. Just apologize.”

Miyuki waits for an explanation, but it doesn’t come.

Nori yawns and stretches his arms over his head. “Is that all you needed?”

“Hey,” Miyuki says. “What does that mean?”

Nori stares at him, pitiful.

Miyuki crosses his arms, defensive.

After a short moment, Nori sighs and steps aside. “My roommates are out, so you can come on in,” he says. “God. What is it about me that screams ‘tell me your secrets?’”

“You can say ‘no,’” Miyuki tells him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to —”

“No, I’m too invested now. I have to see how this ends.”

Miyuki slips out of his shoes and steps into Nori’s room. Nori kicks a swivel chair in his direction, and then pulls out another chair and drops into it.

“Okay,” Nori says, leaning back and crossing his legs. “Take a seat. I feel like this is gonna take twice as long as it needs to.”

#miyuki kazuya is bad at feelings #lazuli writes #the fact that is a canonical tag on AO3 will NEVER CEASE TO AMUSE ME #aa batteries dna

[miyukousawa]

Daiya x Food is my favorite combination

#daiya no ace #sawamura eijun #miyuki kazuya #furuya satoru #kominato haruichi #kuramochi youichi #ace of diamond #diamond no ace #diamond no ace act ii #the merch is so cute #too bad I'll never be able to own it #so I just edit them #editing also takes out of dark places and makes me feel better

[prettyiwa]

I do not authorize the translation or reposting of my work.

(previous) Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader Rating: SFW Content Tags: Primarily POV Miyuki Kazuya, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, Soulmates (if you squint), Minor Character Death, Descriptions of Grief & Mourning, Descriptions of Anxiety, Mentions of Alcoholism (not Miyuki & not reader), Mentions of a Less-Than Stellar Home Life (not as bad as it sounds), Hints of Light Insecurity, Reader Smokes, Profanity, Undefined Something More, Miyuki Toku!! Summary: Caught in transition, waiting between graduation and starting with the Yomiuri Giants, Kazuya didn't expect for it to feel like everything's been shifted two inches to the left, you included. Word Count: 7270

A/N: I honestly don't know why it took this long to get this chapter out. HUGE thank you to Lily for beta-ing. Dunno where I'd be without you, but certainly not here. Lemme know if you wish to be tagged for future updates because I am no good with schedules!

@tyga-lily, @no1frogfan, @miyukiissofine, @princesskazuya, @ceenthesis

Roughly ninety minutes after it happened, you were both pulled from class. The counselors tried explaining to you and Kazuya what happened while the principal stood behind them. Neither you nor Kazuya could comprehend the truth of it, but you both felt the irrevocable shifting of your worlds nonetheless. Your father arrived for you both, picking up two seven-year-olds without acknowledging the crumbling of your foundation until you were both left without the ground beneath your feet. 

Afterward, Kazuya was angry at everything while you couldn’t find your voice. Your dad started drinking and his dad didn’t know what to do. For a while, you hoped you would stay with the Miyukis. There’d be food and you’d have Kazuya. It seemed that way, until your dad got his shit together just enough for you to go back and for you both to avoid the guidance office.

The counselors at school didn’t help—their patience was tested when you wouldn’t speak and their nerves were frayed after meeting with Kazuya. The teachers tried helping, but they never quite understood. Another two months before you spoke again, only ever to Kazuya, only ever after school, and only ever when it was just you two.

You think it may have been that underlying constant in your life, one that remains to this day: you only feel safe and comfortable around him. And for him? Well, who knows. You think he may have appreciated that you already understood. Whatever it was, things got easier when you two started leaning on each other.

Even if you couldn’t put it to words then, you promised you’d always listen to whatever it was he had to say.

Age 18 | March 15

His phone buzzes again on the counter, flashing with the notification of yet another message. Before he can internally chastise himself for having brought it, he receives another two, one interrupting the other. If his hands weren’t busy washing dishes, he’d turn off the device, but since he can’t, he’s left bemoaning whoever’s on the other end.

Kuramochi and Zono might still be irritated that he’s not going to their hastily thrown-together celebration tomorrow, organized at the last minute. It could reasonably be any of the other third years, roped into this campaign by his two vice-captains, though none have been successful in their attempts to guilt-trip him. It could just as easily be Sawamura, though Kazuya hopes that Okumura’s keeping him busy.

Honestly, it’s not like any of them can be surprised by his reluctance. They never let him live down his attempts to avoid his surprise party after his seventeenth, and they weren’t any more forgiving when he tried to make himself scarce for his eighteenth. He even told them he was looking forward to coming back when they asked. It’s unrealistic for them to expect he’d jump at the chance to head back to Kokubunji when he’s only just returned.

A final message comes through as he’s drying the final dish and, beyond handling his phone to turn off vibrations, he ignores it in favor of being back. Dad’s chuckle barely carries over the sound of the talk show on TV, guest starring Chris’ dad. Looking over his shoulder, he spots Dad still watching through his yawn, arms crossed with his half-drunk beer in front of him, exhaustion radiating off of him.

Has business remained slow, forcing him to continue working extra hours by himself? Does he take on extra shifts because it’s just him at the house now? It’d be easier if Dad didn’t dodge Kazuya’s questions when asked, but that might be asking too much.

This sinking feeling persists in his chest as he turns, churning as it lowers, settling behind his navel as it leaves him with the sour taste of loss in his mouth. Leaning back on the countertop, he glosses over the room, barely taking in the state of everything as he does. There’s this twisted sort of familiarity to everything—this remains the house he grew up in, but it’s different.

The table and chairs remain the same, hosting the same indents and nicks that have accumulated over the years. The TV stand is new, providing more storage space, and there’s a new stand beneath the window. On it sits the same plant you had once picked out for Kazuya to gift his dad some Father’s Day ago, barely (miraculously) alive. Overall, everything is much tidier than when he last visited, but it’s all still here.

Glancing at the fridge, something pink catches his eye and he finally puts two and two together. Why he didn’t think of it sooner, he doesn’t know. Stepping closer, he looks at your newest addition to their collection once more, proof that you were here and that you’re ultimately the reason why it’s so orderly.

It’s a sketch of him, drawn in pen from the perspective you had on the bus in January. Your commentary (Miyuki Kazuya, spotted in the wild) still makes him chuckle despite how many times he’s looked at it upon returning. The page is still clean and crisp, unlike the others beside it.

He’s still unsure whether it was your doing or Dad’s, but most of the notes that once littered the door are now gathered beneath a single magnet. The pages have aged with wrinkles having smoothed over and he has to check his fingertips when he notices that the pencil has become faded and smudged, but that doesn’t stop him from flipping through the rest.

The note on top has a date from last summer, around when they would’ve been in Hyogo, a thank you and a reminder of when the vegetables were going bad. The one beneath it is a doodle of the factory from across the street. Ignoring a couple of notes in his own hand, he finds the one you wrote for Kazuya nearly three years ago to the date. 

March 2010

I’ll be looking for you at Koshien! Can’t wait to hear all about it when you come home.

The air in his lungs grows cold before he decides against reading the rest. He’s memorized them all anyway. 

It isn’t as neat as before, but the magnet still pins the notes with ease, allowing him to step away. Sighing, he runs his fingers through his hair, disliking the sensation he’s left with. His eyes scan the room once more, but he knows nothing will have changed in the last ten minutes. 

It’s the same house it’s ever been, but this feeling reminds him of when he looked out at the Seidou practice grounds following graduation yesterday—a little lost in his body and in the space that used to be his, caught somewhere in transition.

Before he knows it, he’s reaching for his phone, flipping it open despite his earlier refusal to acknowledge the team’s combined dedication to proving their persistence isn’t exclusive to the field. Any hesitation he has disappears because it’s better than dealing with whatever this is.

Ten messages from his vice-captains, though it’s a dramatic decrease from what they spammed him with this afternoon. One from Nabe, accepting his absence and wishing him a good weekend. Thirteen from Sawamura, originally talking about his excitement for a return to Koshien, though the most recent ones are about the party. Chris sent a congratulatory text with a question about Kazuya’s next move. As he continues to scroll, that discomfort from earlier becomes impossible to ignore, searching for a name that’s not there.

Maybe a new phone still hasn’t been a priority? Or maybe one message wasn’t enough. Should he have sent you another? He thought—

It doesn’t matter what he thought. He’ll figure this out tomorrow. Thanks to Dad, he knows where you work, and he should be able to avoid Akari this time around.

In the meantime, he should cherish tonight while he has it. Honestly, this visit won’t be much different than his winter ones. A bit more time, but in two weeks, he’ll be moving into team dorms. It’ll be closer to Edogawa than Seidou was, but it still leaves Kazuya with nowhere near enough time. He’ll take whatever he can.

“Hey, Dad? Thanks— oh.”

Dad’s head is drooping where he’s otherwise upright, arms still crossed, beer still relatively untouched. His breathing is steady and shallow, and Kazuya wonders again just how tired he is. It’s always taken a lot for him to fall asleep at the table, and that’s with him taking the day off.

Just as well. Dad’s worked plenty for the last eleven years. It won’t be much longer till he can repay him.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, he’s unsure whether he should wake Dad to get him to bed or leave him to rest just a bit longer, hitting the light switch as he passes. The ceiling light turns off, leaving the room illuminated by the flickering of the television and the cheap standing lamp in the corner. When he reaches for the remote, his finger hesitates, hovering over the power button before turning down the volume instead. 

Kazuya’s not too sure what he’s feeling, but he’s not ready to confront sleep with this sitting on his chest, and the prospect of an otherwise dead house makes it worse. It’s been a while since he’s felt like this. The feeling isn’t productive, so he doesn’t wish to waste any time on it. Dad’ll be fine if he leaves him like this for a minute while he steps outside.

The rubber seal of the sliding door protests for a moment before the door slides, the soft squeal of old wheels on the track sounding louder than Kazuya knows them to be. Looking over his shoulder, he breathes easier that his dad remains undisturbed.

Cool night air is the first thing to hit him, followed by the lingering scent of petrichor and the heaviness of the atmosphere, despite no further forecasts of rain. The chill comforts him, reminding him of winter camp and private practices, of years spent trying to hide the effort he put forth to maintain his skill. It reminds him of when he relinquished the pressure of “genius catcher” in favor of “Seidou’s captain.” His fingers twitch with the impulse to reach for the bat that remains put away inside his room.

If not for how this part of the city quiets following the sunset, he might have missed the sound of someone talking around the corner or of heels against the pavement, announcing their approach. He doesn’t even know why he’s straining to listen, but—

“Shit. He probably isn’t even home. If he is, he’s probably asleep… Screw it. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

It… is. Isn’t it?

Time slows and his heart pounds until he’s overwhelmed by the sound of it beating in his ear. A woman comes into view and his excitement bursts in his chest while he tries to rationalize that it’s probably not you. Her head is bent and her hands are busy, one shielding the other as she tries to light her cigarette. Every cell in his being screams at him in recognition the moment she looks up. 

Your name sounds, louder than is appropriate for the time, and he recognizes the voice as his, but he doesn’t remember using it. You start, turning slightly, and he watches your surprise grow into something more when your eyes meet his. Brows stitching together, your mouth falls open and you look as you do when genuinely surprised. His smile is quick to grow at the familiarity of it all and it only takes a second more before your lips are stretching into a wide grin. As he looks at you, he’s caught between what he knows and what he doesn’t.

In you, he still sees the girl who’d wait for him to catch up after classes and who’d steal the book he was reading and who’d always end up making his kitchen smell like fire when left alone for more than twenty minutes. The way you hold yourself, shifting your weight from one foot to the next, swinging your bag so it’s at your side instead of behind you, allowing you to slip your free hand inside—he’s seen it hundreds of times before. Your cheeks lift with your smile and that’s something he’s seen even more. The growing silence and the way you look at him? Yeah, that’s all familiar, too. 

But there’s just enough that’s new and unexplored that has him calling out, “Stay where you are. Don’t move a muscle.”

You dip your head like you used to and your smile shifts before you meet his eyes again. “Ten seconds in and you’re already asking for the impossible?”

Halfway to opening the door, he falters, watching you scratch your forehead with your thumb, eyes getting stuck on the cigarette secured between your index and middle fingers. You come onto the property, standing near the factory, and it feels like if he doesn’t leave to meet you right now, you’ll slip away.

His heart drops in his chest when you bring the cigarette to your lips, but it doesn’t matter as much as the fact that you’re here and waiting and he has time to figure out what the hell that is. 

The care he had previously taken to avoid disturbing his dad is now largely forgotten, eager in his quest to see you again. Not exactly loud, but not exactly quiet either, he closes the distance to the front door as quickly as possible. Bumping the side table as he slips on his shoe, he wakes his dad with a knock against the wall.

Before he can turn and apologize, he hears his dad say, “It’s good to have you home kid.”

Glancing back, Kazuya smiles to himself before grabbing his jacket from the side table and stepping into the night.

There’s a quiet warmth that builds somewhere beneath his heart, spreading to his fingertips in a wave of anticipation. His heart quickens as he hastens down the steps, nearly tripping as he goes. Despite that hope, despite how he almost feels that kind of satisfaction of when a pitch lands perfectly in his mitt as he’s asked for it, he still can’t shake the feeling that the longer you’re out of sight, the greater the chance is that you’ll have vanished.

But there you are, leaning against the factory doors beneath the light, smoking as though it’s natural when it’s one of the most unnatural things he’s ever seen. As if you know where his mind’s gone, you glance at your fingers, taking another drag before pushing yourself upright and stepping away. 

“Heya, stranger. Welcome home.”

That warmth blossoms from where it settled beneath his heart and he can’t stop his answering grin—neither can you, by the looks of it. A cool breeze pushes past you both but that doesn’t stop heat from spreading. As he steps forward, seeking to close the distance, you take a step back, stepping into partial darkness as you shoot him a half-guilty look.

Is it that you changed? Or that he has? Or is it your cigarette?

Whatever it is, he feels like the change he’s struggled to accept all evening is staring him in the face. It’s enough for him to come to terms with it. Perhaps home is a little different than he remembers, and maybe he is, too, but he’ll still take it. It’s still his.

“Stranger? You’re one to talk.”

“Yeah? You’re the one who left first.”

A snicker punctuates your light tease, but your words make it a little difficult to swallow. Scratching the back of his neck, he tries to come up with some sort of response, something that won’t let you know how your presence has wiped his mind. “How does that make sense? Well, going by that logic, I was the first to return.”

“That’s such a lame response. Did Seidou steal all your witticisms?”

“Your response was lame in the first place.”

This laugh is light and airy, not quite coming from the heart. “Maybe so.” He watches as you bring your cigarette to your lips again, watches as your lips shape into a soft ‘o’ to release smoke with your exhale. “I’m glad you came back. I was hoping I’d find you tonight.”

“I heard you earlier,” he says, a little slow to respond, eyes slow to leave the path your cigarette takes. “What, were you nervous or something?”

“I can leave and come back if you mind. My smoking, I mean.”

Of course, he minds, but where would you go? What if someone wants to be an ass about you wandering with a cigarette? And that’s not even considering the sneaking suspicion he has that if you leave now, you won’t actually come back.

“No, just stay here.”

“You… don’t mind?” Skepticism weaves throughout your words, settling on your tongue in a way that’s always annoyed him. 

He laughs, voice once again louder than it should be, but with the sound leaves some of that tension you were holding. “No. You said you were hoping you found me, and you did. What, was this supposed to be some catch-and-release nonsense?”

“Alright, alright, Kazuya.” Dipping your head, he catches the unmistakable lift of your cheeks, something that still has the power to make time stop for just a second. “Yeah. Yeah, I was nervous. I thought you might have a party or something with your friends. It’s the whole reason I accepted my friends’ invitation. Thought maybe if I went out with them, I’d come back and you’d actually be here.”

“It sounded like you were gonna try to leave again. Did you give up or something?”

“Shut it. No, I, uh. I guess I psyched myself out into thinking I’d end up getting your dad telling me you weren’t back yet. Again.”

There’s anger in your voice. Not a lot. He doubts anyone else would be able to hear it, but after knowing you longer than almost anyone else, he can’t not hear it. It’s the kind that used to make you hesitate in middle school, the kind that would last weeks. 

“That happen a lot?”

“More than I told you about.”

Shit. “Sorry.”

Shrugging, you take another step back until you’re pressed against the concrete half-wall that delineates the property. When he looks a little closer, he finds your exhaustion to be inescapable. Your weariness blends with something sad that he can’t stand, evident in the corners of your eyes and the way you move—slow, measured, as if you’ve already given away most of your energy and you have to conserve the rest. Beyond that, there’s something intangible about you, like trying to hold a shadow.

“Well, I’m back now. I looked for you when I was back during winter break. It almost felt like fate was laughing at me when I saw you on the bus after spending the day looking for you.”

When you smile, it holds none of that anger, but he knows it’s still there. “Is that what happened? I only had the privilege of hearing Akari’s complaints when school started again.”

“What would she have to complain about? She got a good laugh out of it.”

“Ah, just the usual. I’m sorry you had to go through her. Didn’t you ask your dad?”

Now that he thinks about it, asking Dad is one of the first things he should’ve done. Kazuya knew you liked to visit, so it makes sense Dad would know. Could he have saved himself that uncomfortable trip?

… Dammit.

“Your dad was there when I dropped my phone and it broke. I thought he would have told you. It was a little before you played against Mei.” 

Back then, he didn’t talk to his dad until well after, worried about Nori and Sawamura, and the conversation was almost entirely about Koshien. Jeez, he really doesn’t like that twisting sensation that’s starting to become familiar.

“Unless… Please tell me that you guys still talk regularly.”

“He’s so busy, I let him call when he can. I don’t want to interrupt him.” 

Silence grows as you deadpan, only breaking when you give him a humorless snort. “You know he says the same thing, right?”

“Shut up, will you?” 

Your laugh helps loosen the knot that’s forming and he finds himself unable to look away from your cigarette again as you put it out and stash it in a pocket ashtray. Glancing up, you catch him staring, rolling your eyes when he smirks in response. 

“You mind, don’t you? I knew it.”

“It’s too late for that, don’t you think?”

“I wish you told me. I would’ve rather stepped away than irritate you.”

Yeah, well, it’s been so long he’d rather have you here. Smoking or not. It’s not like he was never around Coach when he smoked. “Why’s it matter? It’s already done.”

“Kazuya, if you—you know what? Never mind. It’s fine. Like you said, it’s already done.”

“No, say it.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m not trying to fight you right now. It’s just been so long since we were together I must’ve forgotten that this is just you.”

“Oi.” 

This time when you laugh, it’s full. This time when you look him in the eyes, it’s softer, more welcoming. 

“There’s the sore pout I know.”

It’s been a minute since you two have been together, so he could be wrong, but he’s pretty certain you’re saying something completely different. He feels a low heat start to spread from his nose, not quite reaching his cheeks just yet. 

“So? Did you get a new phone yet, or will I have to drag you around with me to make up for lost time?”

“What’s this? Is Kazuya feeling needy? Did you miss me?”

“Shut up.” That heat ignites, spreading across his cheeks like wildfire at your teasing, warming the tips of his ears and making his skin itch as it rushes down his neck. Your smile changes, uninhibited for the first time tonight. “Like you didn’t miss me.” 

“Aha, yeah, I missed you a lot.” 

Easy. Simple. Wholly you, the girl he’s spent his entire life getting to know. Why your confession makes that heat tingle, ensuring it lingers on his face, he doesn’t know. This is silly. It’s you and it’s always been you and none of this is new.

“So?”

“Yeah, I got a new phone today, actually.”

“No kidding?”

“No kidding,” you say, looking away to grab, presumably, your new phone from your bag. Your hand comes out, holding a flip phone that looks like the same model as his. “One of my coworkers got tired of me borrowing her phone, so she got me a new one. Gotta find time to activate it.”

You hand it to him and, yeah, it’s the same kind, just black where his is silver. He rotates it in his hand before flipping it open, unsurprised when it remains off. “Why not tomorrow?” There’s a shop not too far that’ll do it for cheap. 

“Tomorrow? Eager, are you?”

“Oi.” Though he offers the phone for you to grab, he’s reluctant to let it go, enjoying the slight way you pull at it. “You’ll still be around, right?”

Why not tomorrow, unless you’re planning on being gone? He’ll go with you, whether that means finding something to do near the restaurant and doing it after or picking you up from your house tomorrow morning.

“You mean you’d wanna waste time with me like that?”

“You’re not being for real, right? I was prepared to spend all of tomorrow searching for you again.” Waste time?

“You weren’t.”

“Don’t try to tell me what I’m thinking.”

“How can I not when you won’t even admit you missed me?”

Hasn’t he? Do you think he doesn’t? “I don’t need to say it for it to be true and you know that.” Maybe he needs to remind you. “Yeah, I want to hang out with you like that. How long are you gonna be in the neighborhood this time?”

“I dunno. I came by to pack and to try to see you, so just a coupla days. No more than Tuesday, I hope.”

“Pack? For what?” You’re leaving?

Your eyes light up, smile slow to follow. “I haven’t gotten the chance to tell you, but do you remember that art school I always talked about?”

Not the high school, right? You were supposed to go, but then your dad’s drinking problem got worse and you stopped talking about it years ago.

“... That university, right? Close to Seidou?” Excitement starts to build in his chest, unmistakable as he watches your lips stretch into a wide smile. 

“Yep.”

“You got in?”

“I got in. Not just that, but they offered a full ride.”

“No way! That’s fantastic!” For a second, he thinks about how it felt, learning after the fact that you had to stay behind. “It’s not going to end up like—”

“No.”

Oops. He shouldn’t have entertained that memory of high school. 

“It won’t be like before. The old man can build himself a new house with empty beer cans for all I care. I’m not giving up another opportunity for him.”

That’s new. Not unwelcome, but… new. What happened to push you like that?

“Will you be moving into the dorms?”

“They actually don’t have dorms.”

“Oh. Then where—?”

“My coworker hooked me up with her sister,” you answer, taking another step away from the half-wall and rubbing your hands together. “She’s a year older and needs a new roommate. She’s attending one of the Meijin campuses.”

“That’s pretty cool, I guess.” Your coworker. Again. Huh. “Are you cold? I can—here. Take my jacket.”

“I’m fine, Kazuya,” you say, pushing away the offered garment. “You don’t seem enthused.”

“I am.”

“Don’t tell me it’s been so long that you think you can lie to me.”

“I am happy for you.”

“But?”

“But nothing. I’m happy for you. Does this mean you’ll be getting a new job? And you’ll be moving? When? Tuesday?”

He should be feeling uncomfortable with the way you’re scrutinizing him, but he doesn’t. He feels at home. Your eyes narrow and he sees the second you decide to give up calling him out. 

“Yeah. I’ll be starting a new job. Same place that my roommate works at, so I won’t have to commute far. My last shift with the restaurant was today and the new job starts two days before the term does. She said she’d be ready for me on Tuesday.”

“Jeez. That soon?”

It’s not lost on him that, had he missed you today, his knowledge of where you worked would’ve been outdated.

“Well, yeah. What’d you expect?”

“Some more time. More than the weekend, at least.”

“Now that you’re back, I wouldn’t mind staying longer, but I don’t want to be at the house longer than necessary.”

That’s an easy enough fix, but he has to know. “Okay, are you going to tell me what happened?”

Rocking back and forth from the heel of your boot to your toe, you chew on the inside of your cheek, turning your attention elsewhere. He snickers at the familiar display of annoyance, barely earning him an irritated glance before you return to staring at the office door. “Can’t you just accept that I’ve had enough? It was more of the same.”

“I know you. You have inhuman patience.”

“I have to. I grew up alongside you, didn’t I?” This time, you look at him with just a glimmer of half-hearted exasperation dancing in your eyes. 

“Yeah, but your patience doesn’t begin and end with me. Not unless you’re trying to say that I’ve become so important in your life that it does.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Stepping forward, you lightly push his shoulder, not knowing that your touch sends a spark traveling down his arm. 

“What’d your dad do to make you not want to be here?”

“Can’t deduce it on your own, genius pretty boy?”

“Jeez, can’t you just—wait. ‘Genius pretty boy?’ I don’t think I’ve heard that combination before.”

“Really? Cause I can guarantee I’m not the only person to use it. Didn’t realize you paid attention to things like that.”

He cackles and the full weight of how much he missed you crashes into him, stealing his breath for a moment. “Obviously I don’t or I would’ve known, wouldn’t I?”

“Please. We both know you kinda like hearing it or you wouldn’t bother listening at all.”

“I don’t! You’re the only person allowed to call me whatever you want—”

“Oho, those are big words, Genius Pretty Boy.”

“—and that’s only because I can’t stop you.”

He feels warm, despite the cold. Your smile is cheeky and teasing, annoyance no longer there, reminding him of all the times that came before. Stepping forward again, it looks like you might close the distance, but you don’t. Even if you don’t, he—

“Is that all? Cause I think you like when I say it. Or it’s cause you missed me that much. One of those two for sure.”

Fluttering erupts in his abdomen and it leaves him feeling light like he used to. Hadn’t this gone away? Or has three years of separation brought it all back? “Only one?”

His heart hammers at the acknowledgment that he wants you to come and close the distance as you had before. You don’t step forward, instead shifting your weight to your other foot, hovering just outside of the light of the lamp.

“You’ve changed a lot, you know.”

“How so?” So have you. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

“I don’t know how to describe it, but you’re… more. More you.”

You smile when he laughs, pausing when he takes a step forward. “That makes no sense. I’ve always been me.”

“You’d see it if I drew you.” Your hand moves to your bag and he knows you still have a sketchbook in there. He’d like to look through it if you’ll give him the chance.

“You sticking around to draw me?”

“You’d sit still for me?”

“Yeah.”

How many times have you two done this little routine, said these same words?

Pursing your lips together, you look like you’re trying to suppress your smile, and when that fails, you duck your head. Bashful, if ever you were bashful with him. Cute.

“Mm. I’ll stick around for you. I’ll need to get a purple pen, though.”

“Still with that?”

“As long as you’re purple.”

Kazuya’s attention drops to the hand fiddling with your bag, wondering whether you’ll bust out your sketchbook now since the temptation to draw is written all over your face. Your fingers tap against the opening, index and middle fingers fluttering for a moment before closing your hand around the strap. 

“How much longer do you plan on being in the neighborhood? You’re moving soon, too, right?”

“Yeah, uh—you know about that?”

The second it leaves his mouth, he knows it’s a stupid thing to ask, but, man, it’s great watching your expression change so quickly. It’s stupid of him to even consider that you wouldn’t have paid attention.

“Oh, no. Of course not. I wouldn’t know about my best friend being drafted by the Yomiuri Giants of all teams. How could I possibly know anything like that?”

“Alright, alright—”

“It’s not like I came over to hang out with your dad while the draft was ongoing or anything. We totally didn’t complain when they won the rights to you.”

“Very funny. I get it.”

“No. Why would we? We haven’t been Swallows fans since forever. Not at all.”

“You done?”

Instead of answering him, you stick out your tongue, though that’s answer enough.

“Yep. I’m some kind of traitor.”

“I think it’s ridiculous that the Giants got so lucky this year. You and Mei? The draft has to be broken for that to happen.”

“It was probably just the number of talented players this year. They didn’t know how to break us up. Next year will be interesting to watch, too.”

“I’m sure Mei’s excited. He’s wanted you to catch for him as long as you two have known each other. Ugh. I can’t believe I have to cheer for his team now. The Giants and Mei?”

Your guys’ joined laughter echoes in the quiet streets and he feels fifteen again, talking about how you’d have to cheer for Chris and Seidou, not that you had a problem with the school. When his laughter dies down, his mind wanders to the upcoming week, to the reality that Tuesday is closer than he’d like. He wants far more than the next couple of days if he’s about to be half a city away again.

“To answer your question, rookies have to be moved in by the 29th. I missed so much time here that I’m gonna drag it out as long as possible.”

“Ah, I think I understand. Do you have anything planned, or are you just gonna hang out with your dad when you can?”

“I wanted to hang out with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answers, listening as wind passes through the trees down the street. It travels closer, causing you to shiver again, turning in on yourself as you do. “Take my jacket.” Another gust, stronger than the last, causes another shiver to rip through you and he’s opening up the jacket and draping it around your shoulders anyway. 

“Really?” you say, though you waste no time slipping your arms through the sleeves of his Seidou windbreaker. “This isn’t even all that thick.”

“It’s better than the sweater you’re wearing now. You better not catch a cold.”

“How ever could I possibly catch a cold when I have your jacket to protect me?”

“I think a ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

“I think you shouldn’t expect to get this jacket back.”

“We’ve barely gotten back and already you’re trying to steal my clothes?”

“This one’s on you. Besides, I don’t think any of those old shirts are gonna fit you now. Your old beanie definitely won’t fit your big head anymore.”

“My—?” He was wondering where that went. “You stole my black beanie?”

“You’re the one who left it behind last winter,” you say with faux innocence and a smile that confirms you took it.

This is easier. This feels like it was only yesterday since you two were last together. The air around you both is lighter, not weighed down by all of the accumulated changes that have occurred over the years. At the core of it, you two are both still you. You’re still friends and you’re still—

“So, tomorrow…”

“What about tomorrow?”

“What are you trying to do tomorrow? Watch me pack?”

“Does it matter?”

“A little. If I didn’t have to pack, what would you have us do? Play catch? Would you be my model while talking about nothing but Seidou and Koshien?”

“Well, since you’re the one who offered, wanna pitch to me tomorrow? After you pack, of course.”

“Oh, ‘of course,’” you repeat, laugh bubbling past your lips. 

All it takes is a single attempt to cease your laughter before it becomes louder, harder to control. He watches as your brows and nose scrunch together and your hand comes up to try to hide your face and it’s not much longer before a laugh spills past his lips, too. You choke on your laugh, doubling over as he leans forward, offering his hand in support, gladly grasping yours when you take it. The harder you laugh, the more laughter you pull from him until he’s holding onto you, too.

This is—this is so dumb and yet he can’t stop. Your fingers tighten around his palm and he squeezes in response, so glad that it’s you. Giving another squeeze, you try to straighten yourself, letting him see the tears that have started streaming down your cheeks from laughing. When he blinks, he can feel a stray tear pulling at the outside of his eye, too. 

“You oughtta warn me if you’re gonna joke like that, Kazuya.” Your voice is wispy, altered by your laughter as you wipe away your tears with the knuckle of your free hand. Glancing at him, you pause, lips parted, reminding him of the last day you two properly spent together. You step forward and reach for his face and he hesitates, only for you to gently wipe away the tears that have gathered, moving around his glasses. “Ah, I don’t know if I’ll be any good, pitching to you.”

“We can find out tomorrow.”

It’s the first time since he’s come down that you’re properly under the light with him and that distance feels smaller. There’s no attempt on your end to remove your hand from his and it’s the first time that you feel almost tangible, like he’s not desperately grasping at smoke. 

“Tomorrow? Oh, jeez. I forgot how relentless you are. Next you’re gonna tell me it’s ‘just gonna be for ten minutes,’ or something.”

“No, I wouldn’t say that. I’d want you to pitch for at least thirty now.”

“Oh? Seidou made you greedy.”

“I was already greedy. C’mon. Throw for me.”

“I don’t know. I need to pack and make sure I’m good to leave.”

“You don’t have that much stuff. I’ll even help you.”

“You’d help me just so I’d play catch with you? I didn’t even say yes.” 

“I’d help you regardless. And you didn’t say no.” Not in any way that truly matters when it comes to you. You’ll throw to him at least once in between now and Tuesday. 

“You’ll help regardless? Is this what being captain did to you? Alright. Come by tomorrow and we’ll tackle my stuff together. I expect to hear everything about Seidou, though, alright?”

“Between packing and activating your phone, that doesn’t sound like there’ll be room to play catch tomorrow.”

“Hey,” you say, pulling at his hand, though he’s reluctant to let go. Even after he does, you follow his hand with yours, fingers tapping on the back of his. “You said ‘regardless.’ You also said that you’d want to waste time with me, right?”

“You’re being so particular about my words now.”

“I think I have a right to be.”

Ouch. “I came back.”

“That you did.” It comes on the back of a sigh and he feels that distance increase again. “You always said you would. But I want to hear all about Seidou and Koshien, alright? You’ll tell me tomorrow.”

Because you promised you would. Because you want to hear about what he’s been doing. Because you want to know why he didn’t come back. None of it’s lost on him.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you tomorrow. You’ll be there to answer the door when I come, right?”

“Of course.” You say it so simply like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and maybe it was, once. But to pretend that he still feels uncertain would be to deny that the way you prepare to say goodbye right now doesn’t put him on edge. “I should get going. It’s been a long day.”

As you take a step back again, his hand reflexively wraps around yours. Glancing back at him, you pause, raising a brow as a playful smile forms. His mouth goes dry and his heart climbs into his throat, not ready to let you go.

“Did you eat tonight? I’m sure Dad wouldn’t mind—”

“Kazuya. I worked at a restaurant. They never let me leave hungry. I’m fine.” As if you can tell where his mind’s going, you add, “You’ll see me tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You only just got here. He has tomorrow, and the next day, too, but that’s not enough time. Searching your face for any indication that you might feel the same, that you might share the burden of some of this anxiety, his eyes get stuck on the shape of your lips, on the questioning smile that remains. 

“No, Kazuya.”

“No? I didn’t say anything.”

“I know that look.”

He clears his throat and meets your eyes only to find that sadness from before. You might be here in front of him, but you still feel out of reach. His grip around your hand tightens, just a bit, and you respond by turning your hand in his, fingers briefly ghosting over his palm. You’re the one who breaks eye contact, focusing wholly on your joined hands, trying to distract him from what he wants.

You used to do this, hold his hand open in one of yours while tracing the lines and callouses with the fingers of the other. Just as three years ago, your touch is soft, no less familiar, even if everything else feels so radically jarring. 

“You don’t want to kiss me.”

“I don’t?” He dips his head, trying to grab your attention without pulling his hand from yours only to receive half a glance in turn.

“I taste like smoke.”

Of course, you do. He hadn’t thought about that, but does it really matter? 

“Are you sure that isn’t an excuse?” 

“An excuse?” You look up again, fingers pausing where they sit, tickling the heel of his palm. 

“Not to kiss me.” 

Another breeze passes through, distracting you for a moment before his words hit you. Even though you’re the one who brought it up, even though you’re the one who denied him before he had a chance to ask, your eyes still widen in surprise like you weren’t expecting him to push the topic. Biting your bottom lip, you look down again, pretending to be busy with his hand, though he knows you’re not since your fingers still don’t move. 

If anything, it’s nice to know that he still affects you like this even if you feel a world away.

“Oh, no. The old captain of the Tokyo Representatives and the soon-to-be rookie catcher for the Giants deserves better than a cigarette-flavored kiss.”

“Shouldn’t I decide what I deserve?”

He steps forward, hoping that he’ll be able to convince you, that it’ll stop feeling like he’s losing you, but all it gets him is you, pulling your hands back before stuffing them in the pockets of his jacket and taking a step away. It’s your turn to clear your throat, to square your shoulders and look at him, half as the girl who’d always talk back, half as the woman he’d like to know. 

“Perhaps,” you say, taking another step away, this time toward the street. “But I think you of all people know that you can’t always get what you want when you want it.” 

When you smile, it’s teasing, a little sharper than he’s used to, but he’ll get used to it. Yeah, that’s fine that you turned his old words against him, and yeah, you have a point that he can’t always get what he wants, but it’s you and he’s never given up that when it comes to you. 

Turning on your heel, you start walking in the direction of your father’s house, looking over your shoulder as you do. “Alright, I’m gonna get going, for real this time. Come by whenever you want and I’ll make sure I’m the one to answer the door, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He watches as you make it across the street, suppressing the urge to follow after you, heart stuttering when you turn around and call out to him. 

“It’s good to have you home, Kazuya.”

Promises We Exchanged Fic Page | Daiya no Ace Masterlist

#miyuki kazuya x reader #miyuki x reader #daiya no ace x reader #ace of diamond x reader #daiya x reader #✒.ix writes #✒.promises we exchanged #pwe #end part one #the boy

[deththysting]

Kuramochi: Miyuki can’t be good at everything.

Maezono: Maybe he’s bad at kissing?

Sawamura: No, he’s good at that too.

Kuramochi: What?

Sawamura: What?

#on rarer occasions eijun trolls mochi #mochi lives in fear of either of them opening their mouths #who doesn't feel bad for mochi #he has to watch them being disgustingly in love #sawamura eijun #miyuki kazuya #miyusawa #misawa #kuramochi youichi #daiya no ace #daiya no a act ii #diamond no ace #incorrect dna #anime #aceijun #ace of the diamond #incorrect misawa

[mangoisms]

chapter 5 of forever is a maybe (but i like our chances, baby) is up and posted and i'd just like to cut out what is some of my favorite dialogue from this chapter. no real spoilers either, just some Shenanigans!

“You could ask one of the assistant managers to get it for you,” Miyuki points out as Eijun leads you two into the lower levels of the stadium, where extra equipment, cleaning supplies, and other miscellaneous items are stored. Very little people are around, so the only noise is the soft sound of your footsteps, with the occasional squeak of the soles on the concrete floors. It’s a bit unsettling, but these sections are part of a larger area entirely off-limits to fans and the like, so it should be fine. 

Eijun tosses a scandalized look over his shoulder. “That’s not what they’re here for, Miyuki Kazuya! Don’t be rude!”

“Sawamoron, you literally have two of them assigned to you to wait on you hand and foot. That is their job.”

“Well, I still feel bad! And don’t you see how creepy it is down here? Why would I want to make one of those poor assistants go through this? No! Strength in numbers!”

You chuckle fondly. “I’m not sure this park is old enough to have ghosts, Eijun.”

“You don’t know that! Gramps says we can carry ghosts with us sometimes.”

You frown. “Is that why I always see stuff in the corner of my eye whenever you come over?”

“Maybe!”

“Eugh.” You shudder.

Miyuki snickers. The industrial lights overhead flash over the lens of his glasses. “Don’t tell me you actually believe in ghosts. The country bumpkin I get but —”

“Hey, she’s like me! Tell him!”

You shrug. “I’m from Montana, which probably has more cows than people. I’ve been raised to respect the supernatural.”

He laughs hard at that. “Oh, my stomach hurts . . . You two are hilarious . . . Ghosts, please —”

As if on cue, the lights illuminating the long tunnel flicker. 

“You’re upsetting the ghosts, Miyuki Kazuya,” Eijun whispers, annoyed, though he does take your hand, pulling you closer to him. “Say sorry.”

“I am not saying sorry —”

The lights flicker again.

“Kazuya!”

“Who am I apologizing, too, huh? What ghosts could possibly be here?”

“The ghosts of old!”

“Old what, you idiot?”

The look of incredulity on his face makes you want to laugh but you figure both he and Eijun don’t want you laughing right now. 

“Old baseball, obviously!”

“What ghosts of old would want to haunt a place called T-Mobile Park? You think Babe Ruth is hanging around here when he could be at Yankee Stadium?”

“Kazuya!”

“Alright! I’m sorry, ghosts of old baseball!”

Another tunnel comes up on your right and all three of you flinch and skid to a stop when metal screeches loudly against concrete.

Several things happen in that moment. You, decidedly spooked, drop back at the same time that Eijun, using your left hand clasped in his right, pushes you back to stand behind him and Miyuki, while Miyuki’s left arm shoots out protectively over Eijun. In between all of this, somehow, your right hand ends up finding the back of Miyuki’s Nike track jacket, fabric clasped tightly in your hand. 

A surprised worker meets your gazes, standing at the foot of a tall ladder, clearly having just moved it; at the top of the ladder is an open box in the wall, lines of wire exposed.

“Sorry,” the man says, getting over his shock first and gesturing to the box with a pair of pliers in his hand. “Electrical work.”

You know Eijun is sighing in relief at that but it’s not your imagination, either, when you feel Miyuki relaxing, too. Then you realize you’re still holding him and, with your face burning, you let him go. 

He sends you a quick glance over his shoulder but you avoid his eyes awkwardly, shuffling closer to Eijun. 

Looking back forward, he straightens his jacket. “Told you, Sawamoron,” he mutters, though it lacks any real heat. 

Eijun ignores him still, saluting the man. “Thank you for your hard work! And sorry if we scared you!”

The man smiles, bemused, and shakes his head. “’S alright. No worries.”

The three of you continue on your way, all of you silently agreeing to not bring up any of that. 

you can find the masterpost for this fic here!

#this is a little bit of a promotion but also i do enjoy the dialogue from this chapter A Lot and wanted 2 share #also kind of a sneak peek at what their dynamics might be when reader and miyuki make up :D #frmb** #miyuki kazuya #miyuki kazuya x reader #daiya no ace #ace of diamond #daiya no ace x reader #miyuki x reader #kazuya x reader

[kirrua]

someone posted a gif from this amv so i’m gonna post the amv again 

also please don’t make gifs of my amvs if you’re not gonna credit properly from the beginning...

#misawa #miyusawa #sawamura eijun #miyuki kazuya #diamond no ace #daiya no ace #I know I sound butthurt #but I put literal hours into this video #to see it posted without any link back to the original makes me feel so drained and sad #and then to see the version without credit get reblogged a lot feels worse #just feels discredited and bad #so sorry but also not sorry....