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It had been years since Miyuki Kazuya last heard from his ex-boyfriend—Sawamura Eijun—and now, of all things, they were having dinner together in an *izakaya. Inside a private room steeped in traditional Japanese ambience, accompanied by sake and small dishes laid out on a tatami floor met, in front of chabudai table... Miyuki and Sawamura shared a meal in a calm and composed atmosphere.
Ah, no—not calm at all.
"UWAAAAAA!"
All of that tranquility was shattered by the cry of a small baby cradled in Sawamura Eijun's arms. Tiny fingers clutched tightly at the fabric of Sawamura's shirt. Chubby cheeks, soaked with tears, were pressed against the broad expanse of the young man's chest as he held the child close, showing signs of discomfort and distress.
"I'm tired..." Sawamura complained. A dry-sad-bitter laugh escaped past his lips. He looked utterly worn out—dark circles were clearly visible beneath his eyes. His body seemed painfully thin, far from the last time Miyuki remembered seeing him. Miyuki couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.
"He won't stop crying, senpai. Please, help me..."
Another plea followed from the man who had once been his junior back in high school. Miyuki smiled lopsidedly, a wry smile, already struggling to form a response—after all, he didn't have much experience with babies.
"... Um, Sawamura-kun, aren't you asking the wrong person here?" The bespectacled man set his glass of sake down on the table, gesturing to himself as he raised an eyebrow. "You do realize I'm a professional baseball player now, not a babysitter, right?"
"BUT KURAMOCHI-SENPAI SAID YOU'VE TAKEN CARE OF NORI-SENPAI'S NIECE BEFORE! He said you're good with kids!"
"Th-that's only because Nori's niece is a huge fan of my league. Besides, she was nowhere near as small as the kid you're holding now..." Miyuki waved his hand dismissively.
So the Sawamura Eijun who hadn't contacted him for years had asked to meet again because of a rumor he'd heard from Kuramochi? Because Sawamura was at his wit's end, completely lost on how to take care of the little one in his arms?
Miyuki wanted to be disappointed—but this how was Sawamura Eijun, after all.
"I've changed his diaper... He won't drink his milk, he won't eat his baby food either... I don't know what else I'm supposed to do," Sawamura looked at the child in his arms blankly. His voice trembled, his eyes glistening with tears as if he were about to cry.
The catcher slumped back in his seat. The disappointment in his chest slowly faded, replaced by a tight, aching sense of pity. Miyuki closed his eyes and took a long breath.
"Well... here, let me try holding him," Miyuki held out both arms. "Maybe there's something about the way you're carrying him that's making him uncomfortable."
"..." Sawamura narrowed his eyes, hugging the tiny body in his arms a little tighter. His brows knit together as he spoke, his voice thick with doubt. "Don't break him with your hands, Miyuki-senpai. He's small, innocent, and completely sinless."
"I thought you trusted my childcare skills? 💢" Miyuki snapped back, irritably flexing his hands, clearly demanding that Sawamura hand the baby over already.
Sawamura pursed his lips. Hesitantly, he slowly surrendered the still-crying little one into Miyuki's arms. Miyuki faltered for a second when the tiny body thrashed in protest. "Hey, hey, hey—don't move around so much, little Sawamura. You'll fall if you keep that up."
Sawamura's worry spiked when his son squirmed, but his breath caught when Miyuki smoothly caught the baby without missing a beat. One of Miyuki's hands slipped securely between the child's head and neck, the other supporting his back and buttocks. Gently, Miyuki lifted the baby and settled him against his broad chest, adjusting him into a proper hold. The steady hands of a professional catcher cradled the small life protectively, as if shielding him from the entire world.
"Shh, shh~ That's it, sweetie. Stop crying, okay? Kio-chan is a smart boy, isn't he~?" Miyuki gently rocked the small body in his arms, a soft smile curving on his lips.
Unexpectedly, Sawamura could only stare as his son—Sawamura Akio—gradually stopped his loud crying. Those golden eyes looked up innocently at the unfamiliar man holding him.
"Gosh, Kio..." Sawamura let out a long sigh, brushing back his brown hair in exasperation. "Why were you crying nonstop when I was holding you? And now you're choosing that damn shit catcher over your own Otou-san, huh?"
"Hey, watch your mouth," Miyuki grimaced in annoyance as he heard his ex-boyfriend's words. Half-amused, half-exasperated. Even after all these years, the former Seidou's Ace really hadn't changed—still sharp-tongued as ever. With a quiet chuckle, Miyuki gently squished Akio's chubby cheeks. "Look, look. You really look like Sawamura Eijun, you know! The only difference is—you're not stupid like him~"
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?! 💢"
"Oh, ahh. Your papa's noisy, isn't he~?" Miyuki lifted Akio into the air, kissing his forehead affectionately.
The little one let out a soft giggle, reaching up to grab Miyuki's cheek with his tiny hand—seemingly delighted by the affection he was getting. "Ahahaha~ You really like me that much, huh? When you grow up, why don't you marry me?"
"Akio is a boy, Miyuki Kazuya," Sawamura said firmly, snorting harshly. "You can't marry him."
"Wow, your papa's so harsh, Kio-chan. He really is sensitive when it comes to marriage between men," Miyuki replied lightly. His voice was low, but each word carried the weight of the past—enough to make Sawamura flinch.
It seemed Miyuki had no intention of pushing the topic further. He reached for the milk bottle on the table and tried offering it to Akio. Even though the baby was comfortable in Miyuki's arms, he refused to drink. "Huh? You don't want it?"
"He's probably already full," Sawamura rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the exhaustion weighing on him. "While I'm at work, I leave him at daycare. The caregivers already fed him."
"Ah~ So he's already full, huh," Miyuki hummed, tilting his head slightly. His hands gently rocked Akio, until the boy's golden eyes slowly fluttered shut. "So Kio-chan was crying this whole time just because you don't like being held by daddy, huh? Why do you hate your own Otou-san that much?"
"D-DON'T SAY SOMETHING SO CRUEL, MIYUKI KAZUYA!" Sawamura slammed his fist against the tatami table, tears welling up dramatically in his eyes—his heart taking a direct hit from words that felt far too accurate. Akio had always cried and fussed whenever he was in his arms. Sawamura Eijun had begun to believe that his own son hated him.
"Sshh..." Miyuki gestured for him to quiet down.
Sawamura immediately closed his mouth shut, eyes fixed on his son, now fast asleep in Miyuki Kazuya's arms. Miyuki softened into a smile, gently brushing Akio's hair. "Ah... he fell asleep. How sweet~"
"..." Sawamura lowered his head, releasing a quiet breath of relief now that Akio's cries were gone. Deep down, doubt gnawed at him about his ability to take care of a child. He'd known it all along—he was indeed terrible at this.
"... So," Miyuki said quietly, his gaze resting on Akio's face in his arms. Chubby cheeks, golden eyes, brown hair—darker, perhaps, but unmistakably similar to Sawamura Eijun. Akio is like a perfect copy of Sawamura. There was no room left for doubt about who this child's father was. "I heard what happened when you called me earlier, but I still don't understand what happened. Where is this child's mother, Sawamura?"
His hazel eyes stared at Sawamura's lifeless golden ones—Sawamura looked so listless, exhausted, and worn out. Sawamura averted his gaze, his left hand gripping his right wrist tightly.
"About a month ago," he began, voice low. "... when I got home from work, this kid was left there, in front of my apartement—wrapped in a blanket, inside a basket. There was a letter with him. It said his mother had been hiding the pregnancy all this time, but she was tired. She gave up. So she wanted me to raise him instead."
Sawamura swallowed. "Our son, Sawamura Akio. She named him."
Miyuki stopped rocking the small body in his arms. His heart throbbed painfully at the mention of a woman in Sawamura Eijun's life—ah, it seemed Miyuki was never very good at hiding his emotions. He curved his lips into a thin smile.
"Who is she?" Miyuki asked softly. "Was it a one-night stand?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Sawamura snapped. "She was a girl I dated back in college—after you and I broke up. We split up two years ago."
"... So it was her?" Miyuki asked quietly. "The club manager who was standing beside you that day?"
Sawamura nodded wearily. "Yeah..."
"..." That faint smile on Miyuki's lips twisted into something bitter, though he still forced himself to keep his expression under control. Come on—life goes on. Of course Sawamura Eijun would meet someone else eventually.
"I panicked," Sawamura continued. "I contacted her without thinking, asked her to get back together with me—I want to marry her," His voice trembled. "But she rejected me. So... I decided to raise Akio on my own."
"Wow," Miyuki let out softly, "she's quite a selfish woman, huh?"
Sawamura stiffened immediately. "She went through the pregnancy alone. She gave birth, and she raised Akio by herself for an entire year. She's not a bad woman, Miyuki Kazuya. She was just... exhausted."
Sawamura's firm words made the bespectacled young man choke up. Oh, of course. Sawamura had been spending time with that sweet, gentle, beautiful girl for a long time. An awkward smile formed on his trembling lips.
Ah... so Sawamura really did love that woman, huh?
Miyuki reached for the sake in front of him and took a slow sip, trying to quiet the ache tightening around his heart. A light laugh slipped past his lips. "I'm surprised, you know~ I didn't think you were capable of doing things like that with a woman."
"What do you mean?"
"Sex."
"Are you mocking me, Miyuki Kazuya? 💢" Sawamura gritted his teeth, clenching his fists on the tatami table—holding back his irritation. Did Miyuki seriously think he was a man without lust?!
"No, no," Miyuki replied calmly, meeting Sawamura's gaze head-on. "It's just... when you were with me, you never wanted to switch positions, remember? You said you couldn't picture yourself holding me like that. And honestly—" his smile curved faintly, sharp at the edges, "—you looked perfectly satisfied where you were."
Sawamura's face flushed faintly at Miyuki Kazuya's words. What the mocha-haired man said wasn't wrong—back then, Sawamura had always been the one receiving, the one being held. Of course it was—how could it not be wonderful, being embraced, touched, and showered with affection by someone as effortlessly cool as Miyuki Kazuya?
"At that time," Miyuki said quietly, "I loved you so much, Eijun."
The confession made Sawamura's heart pound even harder—embarrassment, happiness, and pain twisting together in his chest. He clenched his fists tightly, trying to calm himself as the memories of the past replayed in his mind.
.
.
.
.
.
Miyuki Kazuya was a genius catcher born with extraordinary talent. Sawamura Eijun had fallen in love with him from the very first time they met—back when Sawamura visited Seidou, still trying to convince himself to accept the invitation. Chasing that love through baseball had never been easy for Sawamura.
In fact, it could be said that Miyuki only truly acknowledged Sawamura after he managed to take the Ace number from Furuya Satoru. It was during summer camp that Miyuki finally confessed—and casually asked Sawamura to be with him.
"Our battery would be more perfect if we were together, right? Wanna date?"
Sawamura could still remember how his cheeks burned at that cheap pickup line—especially paired with the catcher's grin that never quite looked serious. But he said yes, of course.
From that moment on, they became boyfriends. They're seriously sick in love. They're close, always close, too close and annoying; according to their teammates—Kuramochi and Zono, especially—who constantly had to rebuke them for their shameless closeness right in the middle of training. An absolute headache to deal with.
Miyuki and Sawamura loved each other. Truthfully, Miyuki had been drawn to the loud, troublesome pitcher long before their relationship ever began. No matter how exhausting he could be, Miyuki had to admit he could never take his eyes off Sawamura Eijun.
To him, Sawamura Eijun was like the sun.
Sometimes scorching—too bright, too intense, and painful to endure. Other times it felt warm, comforting, and quietly reassuring.
Miyuki often found himself smiling at the boy's foolish antics throughout their high school years. Holding back his own feelings took effort too. He wanted Sawamura to chase baseball first, to earn the Ace number he dreamed of with his own strength.
Their relationship was going quite well. Even after Miyuki Kazuya graduated from Seidou and joined a professional club that recruited him, they remained together—healthy, steady. They met when they could: on weekends, or whenever their schedules briefly aligned.
Until the day Sawamura graduated from Seidou High and chose to enter a prestigious university under the **Tokyo Big6. That was when their relationship became a ship sailing straight into towering waves and an oncoming storm.
Miyuki Kazuya was busy. Painfully so. Especially after his name was listed for the final Japan–America selection—traveling across several countries, his schedule packed beyond reason. Sawamura is also was overwhelmed by his own commitments: university club activities, relentless training, and sharpening his skills as a competitive pitcher through intercollegiate tournaments.
Because they rarely saw each other, their time together often dissolved into arguments. They fought over trivial things. From Miyuki rarely responding to texts, to Sawamura going out drinking with his college friends far too often.
The breaking point came when Miyuki ran into Sawamura by chance in the city.
No—it wasn't the encounter itself that ignited the fight.
It was the fact that Sawamura wasn't alone. He was with a girl.
Fury overtook Miyuki. He grabbed Sawamura by the wrist and dragged him away from the crowd. That day, in the middle of a park, snow fell softly from the sky—beautiful, quiet, and yet cold enough to seep into their bones. Miyuki Kazuya and Sawamura Eijun stood there, facing each other, their tempers frayed raw by a long, unresolved argument.
"Just because I didn't reply to your messages doesn't mean you can just stroll around with a woman like that, Eijun. Are you trying to make me jealous or what?" Miyuki ruffled his own hair roughly, his amber eyes locking sharply onto the young man before him.
"What? I was being friendly with her like everyone does. She's just my manager—"
"I don't care who she is! The point is, the two of you were alone together!"
"Oh, Kazuya! You're so selfish, you know that? HAVE I EVER COMPLAINED ABOUT YOU? I've always stayed quiet watching Twitter flooded with your name paired with other people," Sawamura gestured toward the catcher. "I've always stayed quiet seeing you close to anyone! Who are they? Ah! Beautiful idols, new actresses, cute models..."
"Really, now? I'm not actually close to them. It's just trashy cheesy drama the journalists make up so their stories sell."
"Oh, not close, huh?" Sawamura let out a bitter laugh, one eyebrow lifting. "What about your bromance with your current pitcher? You're always slinging your arm around your beloved-precious Ace whenever you're together. You're guys smiling for the camera, awww, is that really cute?"
"EIJUN!" Miyuki snapped. "Why are you bringing him into this? He has nothing to do with us!"
Sawamura flinched at Miyuki's raised voice. His head dipped lower, instinctively retreating from the sharp gaze fixed on him.
Miyuki exhaled heavily, forcing himself to rein in his emotions. "I've talked about this with you before. I asked you to marry me. To live in my apartment so we could see each other more often, so our communication wouldn't fall apart. You're the one who turned me down, Eijun."
"Come on, Kazuya," Sawamura pressed a hand against his own chest. "Look at me—I'm a man. Even now, you can't tell everyone that I'm your boyfriend. So what would you say if I lived in your apartment? That I'm your relative? That will hurt me, you know?"
"We can talk about that later, Eijun. It's just a matter of timing. What matters now is that we live together first."
Naive, selfish, reckless, and self-willed—that was the senior he knew so well. Sawamura bit his lower lip. His fists clenched tightly. His shoulders trembled violently—as did his entire body. His lips parted. "I'm tired, Miyuki Kazuya."
The words had been bottled up, then spilled all at once—his lips releasing every grievance. "I'm tired of your attitude. Not just the fact that you ignore my messages, but I'm tired of everything. You don't understand anything. You're insensitive, Miyuki Kazuya."
"Oh? Shouldn't I be the one saying that, Eijun—"
"Kazuya, you don't understand!" Sawamura's body shook even harder. A second after the shout left his throat, tears spilled freely down his face. "There are so many things I've been keeping to myself all this time. I'm exhausted—so tired. It hurts now. Being with you doesn't make me feel better anymore. I want to be free from this pain, Kazuya. I want us to end this relationship..."
Miyuki remained speechless. He stood there in silence for a long moment, watching Sawamura as tears continued to fall. When Sawamura finally turned around and walked away, Miyuki only managed to lift his hand—
but he didn't reach out.
Slowly, he let it fall back down.
The cold of the snow froze him in place. It crept onto his numb tongue, stealing every word he might have spoken. He abandoned his feelings there, allowing his body to be punished by the biting cold that cut straight through his soul.
.
.
.
.
.
"I'm so sorry..." Sawamura lowered his head, sinking deep into the memory of that day. Thinking back, their relationship had truly ended one-sidedly—perhaps it felt terribly unfair to Miyuki Kazuya. "I was stupid and—"
"No," Miyuki shook his head gently, tapping his sake glass with a light chuckle. "Don't make me feel guilty hearing you say that. It's fine, really. It's part of my fault too..."
My fault for not reaching out and talking everything through that day... Miyuki thought to himself. He knew letting Sawamura Eijun go had been a decision that haunted him, even up to this very moment. His hazel eyes shifted to the small figure asleep in his arms, drool spilling at the corner of the child's lips.
Yeah. Sawamura Eijun had continued with his life—even now, he had a little angel to care for. Miyuki tugged a small smile onto his face, looking up at the young man across from him. "It's late. Let me cover the bill, and then we'll get out of here."
❣
Sawamura Eijun couldn't help but laugh. He was pushing the baby stroller filled with Akio's things, but seeing Miyuki Kazuya bundled up in a coat, hat, and sunglasses—trying to hide his identity—while insisting on carrying Akio in a baby carrier... it was too much.
"Pfff—" Sawamura laughed, clutching his stomach. "HAHAHA! You look like a kangaroo, Miyuki-senpai~!"
"Geez, Sawamura. You're loud," Miyuki said, stopping in his tracks as he noticed the little one's big eyes opening. Akio was slowly waking up from his sleep, sucking his thumb. "See? He's awake now."
Sawamura quickly covered his mouth to stifle his laughter. Miyuki gently stroked Akio's head, letting him lean back against his chest. The warm, tender caress soothed the little boy, and soon his eyes fluttered shut again. Both Miyuki and Sawamura let out relieved breaths, thankful that no cries had broken the moment.
"He seems comfortable with you, Miyuki-senpai... Ah, seriously. I get so anxious whenever he keeps crying. Kio isn't used to me yet, since he's always been with his mom before..."
"He'll get used to it eventually," Miyuki said, trying to calm the young man beside him as they walked side by side. He glanced at Sawamura, whose suit made him look like a proper office worker. "By the way... where are you working these days?"
"Ah... it's been three years now. I'm officially working at a private company—Ryokan corp, ever heard of it?" Sawamura replied, loosening his tie a little.
"Oh? That's a pretty well-known company, right? The building's only ten minutes from my apartment."
"Hahaha~ But I live in the neighboring prefecture, you know. I take the subway or bus every day. The rent around here is just too expensive," Sawamura laughed hollowly, folding his arms across his chest.
"So... you've quit playing baseball, then?"
Miyuki's question made Sawamura's breath catch for a moment, but he quickly nodded his head. "Hehehe, yeah! A lot has happened, and I've just been going with the flow~ Sometimes I miss it, though—thinking back those day I fought tooth and nail on the mound."
Sawamura nudged Miyuki with a grin. "And you, Miyuki-senpai, just keep getting better—your sense for the game hasn’t gone anywhere! You’re a professional now, a seriously talented player~ That last game was insane! Your homerun nearly gave me a heart attack! One wrong swing, and everything could’ve flipped!"
"Ah... thanks?"
"Ugh, so annoying... I was being sarcastic, but fine—you do deserve to be a little full of yourself!" Sawamura shot back, earning a soft laugh from Miyuki. He grinned wider. "Hey, senpai... I miss playing baseball. If you’ve got time, will you catch my pitch for me, please?”
"…" The familiar bass in his voice flowed like a melody in Miyuki’s ears, begging him to catch pitches that always made his heart race. Miyuki smirked, feigning exasperation. "Hmm... I wonder, how much are you paying me, Sawamura? I’m an expensive catcher, you know."
"So stingy! At least do it for free for your beloved former Seidou Ace!"
Miyuki couldn’t help but smile at Sawamura’s teasing. Damn it—he still missed this guy. Everything about Sawamura Eijun. He knew their steps were leading them toward the station, the place where they would part ways.
But Miyuki wasn’t letting go.
"Hey, Sawamura," Miyuki stopped in his step, turning his head to look at the younger man. "Looks like Akio’s fallen into a deep sleep. It’d be a shame to keep him out in the cold for too long. How about you come by my apartment first?"
Miyuki Kazuya knew he was being a coward, using the little boy in his arms as an excuse—but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to let Sawamura go. Not yet. He still wanted to be with him, even if just for a little while longer.
❣
Miyuki’s apartment in the middle of the city became their next destination. After carefully laying Akio down on the futon he had spread inside his bedroom, Miyuki stepped back out. He walked over to Sawamura, who was currently standing by the balcony, staring in open awe at the glittering city—rows of headlights streaming below, high-rise buildings glowing against the night.
"WHOOAAAH! Your apartment is huge, Miyuki-senpai!" Sawamura spun around, taking in the space with wide eyes as he shouted at full volume. "Sasuga, ***pro yakyuu! You must be filthy rich now, senpai! Buahahaha!"
"Well... I’d rather not get into that," Miyuki let out a hollow laugh, holding out a warm drink toward his former junior. "I made you something. Come inside and close the balcony door."
"Ah, yay~! Hot chocolate made by Miyuki-senpai!"
He did as he was told, sliding the balcony door shut before trotting back into the living room, practically bouncing on his heels as he reached for the mug.
"Careful," Miyuki warned softly. "It’s hot."
Sawamura nodded, obediently blowing on the surface. Steam curled upward, carrying with it a gentle sweetness—cocoa blended with vanilla, a faint trace of cinnamon lingering underneath. The scent reached him before the taste ever could.
And suddenly—he knew it. This smell. Miyuki Kazuya’s hot chocolate.
The one he used to drink every winter, back when cold nights meant warmth shared between them, back when he could curl his hands around a mug and feel safe simply because Miyuki was there.
"I hate coffee," The memory surfaced uninvited—Sawamura’s voice from years ago, whining in the middle of winter as he stared at the cup Miyuki had handed him. "I’m sleepy, but I don’t need caffeine. It’s bitter. Make me something else, Kazuya!"
Sawamura took a slow sip. Miyuki remembered—of course he did—that Sawamura liked his drinks sweet. The balance of chocolate and vanilla melted perfectly on his tongue, rich and indulgent without being overwhelming.
Too sweet. Exactly how he liked it.
Miyuki watched him quietly, the corner of his lips lifting just a little.
"You still like hot chocolate, huh?" Miyuki murmured, almost to himself. There was something nostalgic in his voice. Sawamura Eijun—the loud, restless, endlessly talkative guy—had always gone quiet when it came to this drink.
"..." The truth was, Sawamura didn’t love sweet drinks all that much. He just loved the ones Miyuki made. No café, no matter how fancy, had ever managed to replicate this taste. But he didn’t say that.
Sawamura only nodded as an answer.
To keep the awkwardness from settling too deeply, Sawamura let his gaze wander. Golden eyes traced the spacious interior—minimalist furniture, clean lines, soft tones of white and light grey accented by warm wood. Everything was neat. Thoughtfully arranged. Beautiful, nothing like his own apartment.
"Ah—"
Something caught his attention. A photograph, mounted without a frame at the far end of the room. Sawamura stepped closer.
It was simple: a pier stretching into the water, bathed in the glow of sunset. The light was layered and rich, colors deepened by the way a single strip of grey cloud cut across the sky, leaving just enough space for warmth to spill through. It was quiet and breathtaking. "Wow... This photo’s amazing! Ne, Miyuki-senpai—when did you take it?"
Miyuki blinked. Once. Twice. "How... could you tell it was my photograph?"
“Hahaha~ there’s always something different about your photos, senpai!" Sawamura laughed. Of course he knew. Miyuki had loved photography ever since high school. Even before he owned a proper camera, he’d captured moments with his phone. And to Sawamura, every picture Miyuki took had always felt like a painting—something alive.
"I took it a few months ago," Miyuki said. "I was in Miami for an exhibition game," his thumb brushed absently against the edge of the print. "I didn’t expect it to turn out this well, so... I had it printed."
"That’s awesome!" Sawamura’s eyes lit up. "You still like taking photos, huh, senpai?"
"Yeah," Miyuki rubbed the back of his neck, a faint, sheepish habit that hadn’t changed at all. "When things get exhausting, I need something besides baseball. You know, it's something I can do as a hobby, not as a job."
Sawamura looked at him—really looked. How was it even fair that the person standing next to him could be this cool? He could cook. He could take beautiful photos. He moved through everything with that same effortless competence, like nothing ever truly rattled him.
"Can I see your other shots, Miyuki-senpai?" Sawamura set his mug down, hands curling into small fists of excitement. There was something oddly comforting about looking through Miyuki’s photos—he’d always liked them, ever since back then. Seeing the catcher’s collection had always been fun for him. He’d been a quiet fan of Miyuki’s photography for years.
"Sure. They’re in those albums," Miyuki pointed toward a wooden shelf lined with books.
Sawamura moved quickly, reaching out and grabbing an album at random. The moment his fingers closed around a maroon-colored one—Miyuki’s eyes flew open.
"Ah—wait! Sawamura, not that one—"
Too late.
The album was already open.
Sawamura froze.
Golden eyes widened, breath catching in his throat.
"S-sawamura... That's..."
Inside the album—were photographs of himself; Sawamura Eijun.
Sawamura in his Seidou uniform—pitching, batting, running with his beloved tire. Sawamura on trips with Miyuki—snow clinging to his hair, laughter caught mid-motion, apples held triumphantly in his hands. Sawamura in moments that were never meant to be kept—lounging on the sofa at sunset, cooking together, scowling at the television in pure, unfiltered irritation.
Every page— was him. Every memory from when they were still together. The past crashed over him all at once, dragging his heart down with it.
"Miyuki Kazuya... Why... why did you keep photos of me like this?" The question slipped from Sawamura’s lips, his voice trembled. His face still frozen in shock, utterly unable to understand.
Miyuki could no longer make excuses. An entire album—filled with photographs of Sawamura Eijun. It was unsettling, almost obsessive. Miyuki lowered his head, scratching the back of his neck in awkward surrender.
"I... I couldn’t forget you, Sawamura.” Miyuki paused, then let out a bitter laugh. "I’m sorry. I know this is inappropriate. I couldn’t go a single day without thinking about you, so I printed them. Put them in one album. So when I miss you, I'll open it and see them..."
Sawamura closed the album, lowering his head as well. Miyuki knew he deserved anger for such shamelessness—but he kept going. He didn’t want regrets anymore.
"I was really happy when you called me today. I canceled all my plans just to see you. I... I still love you, Sawamura Eijun."
Silence.
The room remained quiet for a long time.
Miyuki understood—it was only natural. Anyone would need time to process a confession like that.
Then—
A sob.
Sawamura clutched the album tightly to his chest, holding it as if it were something precious. "W-why would you say that, Miyuki Kazuya...?"
"H-huh?" Miyuki stepped closer, hands gripping Sawamura’s trembling shoulders.
"I love you too!" Sawamura cried, his tears spilling freely as he wiped at them roughly. "But I—I didn’t want to ruin everything. Your career, your baseball, your life...!"
Miyuki’s hazel eyes widened as understanding struck him. Without hesitation, he opened his arms and pulled Sawamura into an embrace. He gently patted his back, whispering softly. "You don’t need to think about any of that, Eijun."
"H-how can I not think about it?!" Sawamura sobbed against his chest. "I was never good enough for you, Kazuya! I kept hoping you’d find someone better than me—so why would you go and print my photos like some kind of hentai maniac?!"
"I’m not a hentai," Miyuki protested weakly, the hollow laugh followed by.
His hand stroked Sawamura’s brown hair as the younger man trembled in his arms, fingers clutching desperately at Miyuki’s shirt. How could he ever forget him? This fragility—this was Sawamura Eijun. Back then and now, his tears meant the same thing: he carried too many worries alone.
Miyuki guided Sawamura closer, letting him lean fully into the embrace. Gradually, the sobs softened. Sawamura pulled back slightly, wiping the remnants of tears from his cheeks.
"Kazuya..." He still gripped Miyuki’s shirt tightly. "I think... it’s time I told you the truth."
"...?"
What's truth?
"I actually stopped playing baseball because of an injury to my left shoulder."
Miyuki’s eyes widened. His jaw tightened, lips pressed together as his heart pounded violently—unprepared for words that pierced him so deeply. "W-what...?"
Sawamura nodded, assuring him this wasn’t a lie, that Miyuki had heard correctly. "I didn’t tell you back then. I felt guilty... that you didn’t know. I trained too hard. My ligaments were permanently damaged."
Sawamura’s expression went blank as memories resurfaced—nightmares etched into his past, mocking him like cruel satire and pushing him into an abyss of pain.
'The chance of recovery is very low—under 40%. I don’t recommend surgery. If it fails, you could lose full function.'
"... The doctor said surgery wouldn’t help much," Sawamura continued quietly.
‘It would be better for you to give up your career, Sawamura Eijun-kun.’
Yes—he remembered every word clearly. Painful, but real.
Miyuki remained silent, overwhelmed—confused, devastated, angry. Angry at himself for not noticing sooner, for not asking. Kuramochi had hinted once, after all. But even Kuramochi must have kept silent because Sawamura wanted Miyuki to hear it from him directly.
And now—finally—he had.
"When?" Miyuki asked, his voice trembling as the questions spilled out one after another. “Since when were you injured? Are you okay now?" His tone sounded almost frantic, as if he wanted to curse himself—his pride, his stupidity.
Sawamura gave a small, tight smile and let out a quiet breath. "The injury... I started feeling it about a year after I joined my university team. I ignored the pain. I kept pushing myself—until I completely ruined it."
Then he looked straight into Miyuki’s eyes. "Hey, Kazuya. Do you remember the day we ran into each other downtown?"
Miyuki nodded. Of course he remembered. He could never forget the day their relationship ended.
"That day... I’d just come back from a hospital check-up," Sawamura continued. "My coach and my manager—that woman, Akio's mom—were with me. Afterward, my coach had to leave because of work, so she stayed. She asked me to take a walk with her... to cheer me up."
"..." Miyuki found himself unable to speak. He had blamed that woman once—believed she had come between him and Sawamura, thinking she ruined their relationship. But now he understood. Compared to her, Miyuki had been nothing. She was the one who stayed beside Sawamura when he was at his lowest. No wonder Sawamura had fallen for her.
"As for my injury... I’m fine now," Sawamura said quickly, forcing a smile. "I just can’t carry heavy things anymore. That’s all."
"Why... did it come to this?" Miyuki clenched his fists, still unable to accept it. "Why did you push yourself so hard, Eijun? The Sawamura I know always knew when to stop."
Sawamura smiled faintly at that. The world he saw outside Seidou baseball had been different—limitless and terrifying. It made him desperate to become better, faster. Even though he knew nothing came instantly, he wanted to grow as soon as possible. It had been naïve, he knew it.
"I wanted to chase after you," Sawamura admitted, his golden eyes dim with emotion. "I was jealous of the pitchers who got to stand on the same field as you, Kazuya. I wanted to be acknowledged. I wanted to form a battery with you."
Ah—so that was it.
Miyuki’s chest twisted.
Of course. This was all because of him. It had always been about him.
Miyuki felt his guilt deepen.
"And in the end, I destroyed my dominant arm," Sawamura continued softly. "I realized I’d never be able to chase you again. So... I ran away from you."
Miyuki understood now. Why Sawamura had said he was tired that day. Why he had turned around and walked away, ending everything so abruptly. He had been exhausted—depressed, lost, with no idea what to do anymore.
"I love you, Sawamura Eijun," Miyuki said it without hesitation as he gently wiped away the tears on Sawamura’s cheek. He didn’t want to lose him again. Never again.
Sawamura looked at him with wavering eyes. "Even if... I can’t play baseball anymore?"
"I love you, Sawamura Eijun," Miyuki answered firmly. "Not your baseball. You. I love you." Then, softly—almost teasing, but sincere. "Would you hate me if I stopped playing too? If I retired?"
Sawamura let out a small giggle at the baseball fanatic’s reply. Ah—he didn’t even want to imagine it. How could he ever think about something like hatred? Sawamura shook his head lightly. "You shouldn’t say things like that, Kazuya. Right now, you’re the catcher I love the most."
A smile slowly bloomed across Miyuki’s face. He pulled Sawamura into his arms and captured his lips, holding him close as he gently guided him down onto the sofa. The embrace was tender, unhurried—like he was imprinting his presence onto Sawamura Eijun, the person he loved more than anything.
Sawamura felt Kazuya’s warmth and clung to him tightly. He liked this—liked being showered with Miyuki Kazuya’s open, unapologetic affection. Now, he finally understood what that woman had meant back then...
"You don’t love me, Sawamura Eijun-kun."
His ex-girlfriend had worn a bitter smile as she spoke, standing at the doorway of her apartment. Akio cradled in his arms. Sawamura frowned deeply. "W... What do you mean? Hey—give me another chance. Let’s start over. I’ll take responsibility. I’ll marry you."
“No. I don’t want to marry a man who doesn’t love me,” she replied quietly. Her hand gently brushed over the tip of Akio’s hair—dark brown haired, just like hers—before her gaze returned to Sawamura. "I did love you once, Sawamura-kun. But you... not. You were not. You never loved me. Not even from the beginning."
For a moment, Sawamura felt as though his heart had stopped beating. He shook his head in denial. "H–hey, that’s not true—"
"You love someone else. Your heart was never mine," Slowly, she began to close the apartment door, her eyes lingering sorrowfully on the small child in Sawamura’s arms. "So please, take good care of Akio. And be happy, Sawamura-kun."
The door shut completely.
Akio burst into loud tears in his arms, crying for the familiar face that had vanished—gone just like that. A cruel reality for a child too young to understand why he would never see his mother again.
Sawamura stood there in silence, trying to process her words.
He had never loved her?
Then... who had he been loving all this time?
At that moment, only one name surfaced in his mind.
Miyuki Kazuya.
Fragments of memories replayed one after another. Sawamura clenched his teeth and shook his head hard.
No.
He didn’t want to admit it. But he could no longer run from the feelings he had suppressed for so long. Sawamura Eijun had always loved Miyuki Kazuya.
And so, a month after that day, he finally gathered the courage to reach out to him again—wanting, desperately, to step back into his life.
❣
Morning arrived slowly, filtered through pale light and quiet breathing. Sawamura Eijun woke with a dull ache in his chest—warm, heavy, unmistakably real. He stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before awareness fully settled in, then frowned when he realized two things at once: he was naked beneath the blanket, and the room was too quiet.
"... Kazuya?" he murmured.
He pushed the covers aside and sat up, the cold air kissing his skin as he reached for a T-shirt. Last night surfaced in fragments—hands, warmth, whispered names—and embarrassment crept up his spine.
God. Miyuki Kazuya really had gone too far. There was a child in the room.
"Hhh... where did he go?" Sawamura muttered, pulling the shirt over his head as he slipped down from the bed.
That was when he saw them.
Miyuki lay on the futon, one arm curved protectively around a small body nestled against his chest. Sawamura Akio slept peacefully, his tiny fingers fisted in the fabric of Miyuki’s shirt, as if instinctively aware of safety. Miyuki’s glasses were still perched crookedly on his nose, his face softened in sleep—unguarded, gentle in a way Sawamura rarely got to see.
Sawamura froze.
His heart stuttered, then began to race.
"... Ah," he breathed, something warm blooming painfully behind his ribs. Right. Last night. Akio had cried, inconsolable, and Miyuki had quietly told him to go back to sleep—I’ve got this, Eijun. You need rest.
Sawamura scratched the back of his head, a helpless smile tugging at his lips. So Miyuki had stayed awake. All night. Honestly... Akio seemed more comfortable with Miyuki than with him, huh?
"He didn’t even take his glasses off," Sawamura whispered fondly, stepping closer with careful, reverent steps. He reached out, intending to remove them—
His wrist was suddenly caught.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A few months later...
Sawamura Akio had entered his most adorable phase. He could lift his little bottom now, gripping the edge of the bed for support—though more often than not, he would wobble, give up, and flop back down against the mattress. Whenever Akio practiced trying to walk, it became Miyuki Kazuya’s favorite thing to watch.
"Kio~" Miyuki called out teasingly, having observed the little one’s struggle for a while now. "Kio-chan, look over here~"
"Awuu!" Akio turned around—but his balance gave out, and he staggered.
Miyuki quickly placed a hand against the boy’s back. Luckily, Akio fell toward the bed instead, his head landing softly against the mattress.
"Aw... walking is hard, huh?" Miyuki smiled fondly, gazing into those round, golden eyes. Akio blinked a few times, then broke into a wide grin in response.
"Kacuyaaaa!”
"Yes, Kio-chan~?" Miyuki answered instinctively. It seemed Akio had heard Sawamura call him by that nickname far too many times—now he was copying it himself.
"Ahh!" Akio stretched his arms out wide.
"Hm? You want to be picked up because you’ve given up already?" Miyuki laughed softly. “Ahh... No way, you’re way too cute..."
Watching him felt like looking at a miniature version of Sawamura Eijun—ridiculously adorable. Honestly, it wasn’t good for Miyuki’s heart.
BANG!
"Miyuki Kazuya!" The door flew open without warning. Sawamura Eijun stormed in, stomping his way across the room. He smacked Miyuki’s arm without holding back. "Stop being my son’s love-struck servant! Aren’t you supposed to be on a talk show today?! Why are you still here?!"
Miyuki stood up, scooping Akio into his arms. Seriously—why did he have to work on his precious day off? He clicked his tongue, then planted a kiss on Akio’s cheek. "See, Kio-chan?" Miyuki said dramatically. "Your papa is jealous of how close you are to me. So Daddy has to go now, okay~?"
"I’m not jealous!" Sawamura snapped, snatching Akio back into his own arms. "Just go already! It’s live, right? You’ll be late!"
"Alright, alright~ I’m going," Miyuki replied cheerfully, patting Akio’s hair one last time. Then—quick as lightning—he stole a goodbye kiss from Sawamura’s lips.
Sawamura’s face turned bright red.
"MIYUKI KAZUYA, LEAVE. NOW!"
"Okaaaay~!"
Miyuki grabbed his bag and bolted out the door at full speed. The apartment fell quiet once the professional baseball player was gone. Sawamura Eijun let out a long, slow breath.
❣
Today, a private television station had indeed invited Miyuki Kazuya—the rising star catcher—to appear on one of their talk shows. Sawamura knew how excited people were about it. Miyuki Kazuya had become a highly sought-after guest, admired not only by sports fans, but also by those drawn purely to his looks.
"Dadda! Dadda!"
Sawamura Eijun was currently watching the program on television—with Akio sitting on his lap. The little boy wouldn’t stop pointing at the screen, as if trying to tell Sawamura that the man on TV was unmistakably Miyuki Kazuya.
"Yes, sweetheart. That’s Daddy," Sawamura replied with a fond laugh, gently pinching Akio’s chubby cheeks. "But he can’t hear you right now."
[Ah, so… what have you been busy with lately, aside from preparing for upcoming matches?]
Sawamura stiffened slightly as the host steered the conversation toward Miyuki’s personal life. A flicker of anxiety crossed his chest—he couldn’t help worrying that Miyuki might get into trouble because of their relationship.
[Hmm… not much? I like cooking on weekends. Sometimes I go out to take photos of scenery. Lately, I’ve also been thinking about getting a dog—it sounds fun.]
Sawamura let out a quiet sigh of relief. Miyuki was handling the question calmly, just as expected.
[—Ah, and these days I’m also busy taking care of a small child. He’s learning how to walk right now. He’s incredibly adorable.]
Sawamura’s eyes widened.
[A child? Is he your nephew? Or maybe a neighbor’s?] the host asked, clearly surprised.
[No, no. He’s my partner’s son. I already think of him as my own child.]
The host froze. The audience gasped. And Sawamura Eijun—completely short-circuited.
... What did stupid Miyuki Kazuya just say?
[P-partner? Wow, wow, wow… Miyuki Kazuya, what have we missed here? You already have a partner?]
Miyuki smiled, turning his gaze straight toward the camera. Sawamura could see it clearly—the way those hazel eyes seemed to look right at him.
[Yes. His name is Sawamura Eijun. An honest idiot, just the way he is. I love him very much—and I’m planning to marry him. Maybe sooner than people think. Two home runs in the next game, and it’s settled.]
Sawamura went completely blank.
It took him several seconds to realize this wasn’t a dream. His cheeks burned red, his lips trembled—then, a moment later, his voice exploded through the room.
"M—MIYUKI KAZUYAAAA!"
And, yes. The name Sawamura Eijun became a trending topic immediately after the show ended. Articles resurfaced, digging into his past with Miyuki Kazuya. Don’t worry, though—fujoshi everywhere were absolutely thrilled by the news. You can see the hashtag #MiyuSawa shot to the top of the charts, too. ♡
END.
...
*Izakaya : an informal Japanese bar, often offering private rooms and serving alcohol, snacks, and full Japanese-style meals.
** Tokyo Big6: the six most prestigious universities in the Tokyo area that compete in the intercollegiate baseball league.
*** Puro Yakyu: professional Japanese baseball, referring to players in Nippon Professional Baseball (NPB)