Chapter Text
Eijun
”Give me the ball” and it’s frustrating and confusing, this deep turbulent well inside him “We don’t need two pitchers on the mound” it’s frustrating and it’s awful!
Is he so insignificant that he’s not allowed to stay on the mound? To try? To do what he can?
“I know it must be frustrating, but- “and he can’t take it, because is Furuya actually honest and trying to soften the blow, or is he so heartless and so cold he doesn’t care at all about him?
Doesn’t he know Eijun at all?
But what more can Eijun do, but try to cover up all his emotions and feelings? Not to crack wide open for all to see.
Eijun laughs. It’s forced and it sounds false and grating to his ears, but he hopes no one notices.
“Of course! I gave up three runs without getting a single out. I should be switched out!” and he’s disappointed, in his coach, in his supposed partner, in himself. He doesn’t fully understand why, he’s just angry and hurt!
He presses the ball into Furuyas mitt.
He’s stomach feels like it’s crawling and his fingers feels cold, and there’s a stiffness in his shoulders.
There’s an annoying lump in his throat.
“S-sorry that I’m passing the baton like this. Take care of the rest.” And he doesn’t know what his team sees, he doesn’t know how they are taking this, the only thing he sees is the ground and the match where he was switched out after the dead ball.
‘No. Stop. Don’t walk off’ he thinks angrily to himself, and still he’s walking towards the dugout. ‘I know this feeling. It’s the same as the game. The mound’s getting farther… and farther away’.
And it is killing him.
Something in him is breaking, and it’s not breaking cleanly. It’s being shaved off with an old and rusted knife. ‘Back then, I thought I’d never… ever get to stand there again. It’s exactly the same’.
Eijun can feel the burning in his eyes, the gnawing in his chest. ‘If I walk off here, I’ll…’.
And it’s like the world is gone. Images are on repeat in his mind’s eye, and the tears won’t stop, his chest is burning but his feet and hands are cold.
Everything is dark and far away.
He can’t hear his team, he can barely feel his feet on the ground or hear the creak as he sits down on the bench.
He tries to stay present, tries to stay focused but he can’t, all his energy is going to not breaking down even more.
They lose the practice match, he’d gathered as much.
The sun is setting by then and he can somewhat feel the mood being way down in the dumps around him. But somehow, he doesn’t really care.
Something is empty, wounded and stinging inside him.
“You didn’t stand a chance.” And he can hear a little bit of resignation in the coach’s voice. “This is where you are right now. This is the current team.” Eijun isn’t really present to listen to it all. He’s staring at the ground, at his feet, at the scuffed dirt and he can somewhat hear the sound as he shifts his shoe in it. The tiny crunch.
But one-line filters through, it chills him even more. “The starting roster is going to be flexible. I’ll let whoever’s doing well play, regardless of your grade.”
And Eijun checks out fully, then.
He’s doing everything in his power to stay standing.
He kind of just follow the nearest person by this point, when everyone starts to walk away to do some stretches. He wants to be done so he can be alone. He needs to be alone for a little while, the need huge and yawning bigger inside him.
He needs to get away.
“Miyuki, Kawakami, Sawamura. You guys stay.” That’s not what he wanted to hear right now. Alone with coach? Fine. But with Miyuki and Kawakami? And even Oota and Ochiai?
No, that’s humiliating no matter what’s going to come out of boss’s mouth.
But they’re moving away from the field and the team. He’s following Kawakami, last in line, feeling dejected and strangely vulnerable and he hates it.
They step inside the observation room, Miyuki and Nori right behind him, and the door closes behind them.
It smells a bit stale, dust motes flying about, the sun is so low it doesn’t warm them at all. And it feels crammed with so many in this tiny space. He feels cornered.
It’s quiet for only a moment before the coach speaks.
“What do you think about your pitching today, Sawamura?” And he has no energy for this, for this man or this team, for this conversation.
“Sir. I couldn’t pitch to where Miyuki-senpai requested.” And he doesn’t look away from the man before him, but he isn’t really looking at him either.
“Are you aware? You’re unable to pitch to the inside.” It hurts, even if the coach is trying to sound calm and kind, it still feels like he’s poking in an open wound. Pouring salt and rubbing it in. Feels like he’s singling Eijun out as the weakest link.
“I am” Eijun admits gruffly, lump heavy in his throat.
He feels a hand on his back, and it feels strange, but like a tentative attempt to sooth and reassure. Eijun doesn’t know how he knows it’s Miyukis hand on his back, but he does, and it just feels like it’s out of character, coming from the catcher.
“In the final, you walked off after throwing a hit-by-pitch. Your body might be unconsciously avoiding the inside pitch” the upper-class man’s voice being soft and calm, too. Something in Eijun is feeling a bit calmed and warmed by that tone.
Yes, he’d guessed something like that, that that was why couldn’t pitch well. But he can’t understand why it’s happening and why he can’t get over it. He usually bounces back from everything thrown at him every other time, but this?
And Miyuki sounds kind, he sounds understanding, it sounds like he’s trying to calm Eijun and it’s helping, just a fraction.
But that’s confusing too, why is it helping?
It’s quiet around them, and sometime in the quiet Miyuki’s hand disappears and he feels alone and cold again. He doesn’t count the seconds, but it feels like a minute or two before the coach speaks again.
“Sawamura. Practice on your own starting tomorrow. Avoid any contact with a ball. Your practice will mainly consist of running to strengthen your lower body.” It’s a blow.
That thing inside him, breaking, is starting to fray even more. ‘I’m on a separate regimen right before the season? Does that mean…’ It feels like a punishment for something he can’t control, it feels like the coach and the team giving up on him as a pitcher.
He feels cold, all over again.
He hears coach Kataoka talk to Kawakami, not really words because he can only hear his own thoughts and feelings in a war inside him. ‘Of course. With how I pitched today, I’m… useless’.
And he feels dizzy, he feels faint, but he keeps standing.
He will not break. Not here. Not now. He will not.
The coach doesn’t trust him. He is useless. No one needs him. And he is feeling ill to his stomach.
‘I will not break before them’.
And so, the days went on. School, practice, his own schedule, no touching the ball, any ball. Just keep running.
No one talked to him.
No one tried to.
No one was trying to lift him up or ask how he was doing and, in some way, he was grateful.
But they were a team, weren’t they?
He would bounce back, he always did. But what did it all mean that he was only running around?
He had heard the whispers about him having the yips, and somewhat he was frustrated that no on, especially that Miyuki, nor the coach, had told him. He had to hear it as gossip from just passing by and he had to read up on it himself and honestly? It didn’t feel good because somewhere along the way it felt like his friends, his teammates, his coach and Miyuki, especially, had given up on him and agreeing with one another that Eijun now was useless and worthless.
Eijun was breaking.
For the first time, his mind is his worst enemy and with it came the anxiety, and it was horrendous. He didn’t know how to handle it at all.
‘The season’s closing in, yet what am I doing?’ So, he kept running at practice, because what else could he do? ‘How can I start, much less be the ace… if I can’t get any outs?’ it felt like he was on the last bit of thread before it would snap.
And he didn’t know why it felt so scary and horrible, but who could he even talk to about it?
Everyone was up to their own training, their own stuff to deal with. Who would care after all this about someone who was useless to the team. They didn’t really seem to care anyway, leaving him alone, barely trying to talk to him. Who could he turn to without feeling like more of a burden? ‘Damn it. I’m so weak.’
The dizziness was sudden and disorienting, and he felt weak, and not in the way he had just thought.
He’s knees was giving out under him.
He felt ill to his stomach, like he was about to throw up.
There was a snapping sound, was it just his imagination?
And he was cleaving, right down the middle.
He remembers seeing the coach face, seeing him running towards him. Someone shouted for him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe.
He.
Couldn’t.
Breathe.
And the ground rushed to greet him.
---
When Eijun woke it’s with a splitting headache and something beating fast and heavy in his chest. He can’t get air into his lungs and his eyes are burning.
He can’t breathe.
Someone is holding his forehead, saying his name softly, but he can’t concentrate and why can’t he get air into his lungs? It’s frightening. What is happening?
He tries to blink through the dizziness, the tears and the murky vision. He thinks he can see Rei and he tries to focus on her.
“That’s it, Sawamura. We are on our way to the hospital. Can you try and take a deep breath for me?” and he tries, keeping his eyes on her and takes a deeper breath. It’s like agony but somehow, he makes it. “That’s good, try one more time” he does, because it feels good being told he’s doing something right, even if it is just to breath.
“How is he?” Eijun looks towards the front seat and sees coach Kataoka in the passenger seat and Oota driving.
“He’s calming down a little, I think. Keep taking deep breaths Sawamura, we’re nearly there”
“The hospital? What happened?” he asks when he feel like he can, resting his head back and feeling soothed by Rei’s hand steady on his forehead.
Why is it soothing?
“You collapsed during training, and you had a hard time breathing. So we’re taking you to see a doctor” coach Kataoka explains while the club president turns into the parking lot of the nearby hospital.
Oota stops the car right by the entrance to the hospital to let them out, and while Oota finds somewhere to park, Eijun is led by coach Kataoka and Rei towards the doors. Kataoka has to support Eijun because of his extreme dizziness.
Fortunately for them, it doesn’t take long for them to see a doctor.
But what Eijun thinks is going to be some eye examination, head tilting tests and maybe some painkillers, turn into something bigger.
The doctor asks him a lot of questions, having the other adults step out for some privacy. A nurse comes in to take some blood samples and then it’s a bit of a waiting game. Kataoka steps in then with Rei and Oota, getting an okay from the doctor and Eijun, who’s sitting on the examination bed with a bucket in his hands and his head tilted back a bit.
He feels dizzy still, and nauseous. Hence the bucket.
“Have your school talked about secondary nature, dynamic, or gender, to you yet? About dominant and submissive natures?” and now Eijun thinks he knows exactly where this is going. It’s the coach who answers this one, a little apprehensive.
“No, we teachers have that as a subject in second year, Sawamura is only in first year” yes, but Eijun knows about it. It was just so rare and nothing to really think about now. He didn’t know many adults who was neither sub or dom, he knew one or two third years had gotten the news that they had a second gender.
But it wasn’t really something that affected others except other doms and subs. But he could hear his grandmothers voice in his head from when he was young, telling him how pitiful a sub is.
“Well, I suspect that Sawamura-kun has one of these secondary genders, and it points heavily towards a submissive nature. If everything I’ve heard today from Sawamura and you, coach, then this could have ended very badly for Sawamura. That he was able to hold on for this long speaks of a very strong mentality” the nurse walks in just then with a paper in hand, handing it over to the doctor who starts to read through it.
Eijun’s just blinking down at his trusted bucket.
Maybe he should just puke? Maybe he’d misheard and all would be well if he could just throw up?
Submissive? Him?
Wait, what did that even mean for him?
“Yes, the tests show the same result. I will give you some pamphlets about submissives, and suppressants that will work well as a calming effect and dampen your anxiety if it flares up. Only use them when necessary”.
Wait, this was going too fast and it didn’t feel real. Eijun took the pamphlet anyway, and started to read the first page, not really seeing the words.
“Now, I would like to discuss this gender, or nature if you rather, and the importance of having its needs met, and yours. I would like for your coach to stay for this. Do you want the others to stay or leave?”
“Leave” he mumbles, he would have liked for the coach to leave, too, because it felt like his world was falling apart, and trying to rearrange itself all at the same time.
He didn’t want anyone there for it.
He heard, more then saw, as Rei and Oota-san left the room, and Kataoka taking a seat by his bed, chair creaking as he sat.
Eijun hugged the bucket tighter and closer.
He had so many questions, but nothing came out. He was tired, it was late, he wanted some sleep. But most of all he wanted to know what his supposed second gender meant, and why it seemed to be a big deal.
And they talked.
Or rather, the doctor talked and Eijun gave yes or no answers, some stronger than others. Honestly, he wasn’t really there mentally, and all the questions he had was getting shorter as the doctor talked, but new ones replaced them fast.
Somehow, he guessed that some of what he had been feeling could be traced to being a submissive.
“The best thing would be if you could get help from a dom on your team, or at school grounds” the doctor said. Eijun had two voices in his head, one which agreed with the doctor, the another that screamed at him that Eijun didn’t deserve a dom. He didn’t deserve help. It was weak to need it.
“We don’t have anyone on the team right now with a secondary gender, but we could ask-“
“No” Eijun interrupted. It felt like he was swallowing glass, just by saying no.
He could feel the doctor’s and Kataoka’s eyes on him.
Eijun bit his lip hard. It felt like he’d done something bad.
He wasn’t supposed to disagree to this, was he? “Sorry, but I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am”
“No that’s-“ the doctor started to say, sounding a bit worried, but he was cut off by Kataoka.
“We will talk more about this tomorrow in my office. I want you to think about it over the night” the coach said, and Eijun just nodded.
He could think about it. It was the least he could do. But the answer would still be a no.