Capítulo 22: Trust Issues with a Splash of Curry
The Next Day - Wednesday - 9:00 AM
The whirring of heavy machinery lets Miyuki know that his father is hard at work, which sets him at ease.
He turns on the stove and whisks a few eggs as he waits for the pan to heat up. A dash of salt here, some black pepper there, a few slices of green pepper and ham, then whoosh!
Miyuki hums as his creation starts coming together, a beautiful golden-brown circle of fried goodness. He stirs it about the pan for a few more seconds before turning off the stove. He grabs two sets of plates from the cupboard and serves equal amounts of egg and toast on each.
Furuya rounds the corner and enters the kitchen, wiping any evidence of vomit from his mouth.
"That smells good," he says. "Which convenience store did you purchase it from?"
"Very funny," Miyuki says sarcastically as he puts the plates on the table. He pours two cups of orange juice. "May I present to you this wonderful banquet, made by your truly. I call it the 'Eat Your Fucking Vegetables, Furuya!' I added green peppers if you couldn't tell."
Furuya sniffs the air again, but this time, the heavenly scent turns vile and causes him to dry heave.
Miyuki sighs. "Morning sickness, huh? Looks like it sucks. You just spent ten minutes throwing up."
"That's what I don't understand," Furuya says while covering his mouth. "There shouldn't be a morsel of food left to throw up. I haven't eaten since we got on the bus."
Miyuki chokes on his orange juice. He pounds his fist on his chest before speaking.
"What? When was your last full meal?"
"I had yogurt for breakfast yesterday. As far as the chips we shared on the bus, that's about it…"
"You're such an idiot. Why didn't you tell me? I could've whipped something up for you last night. Were you planning on starving yourself the entire time?"
"I didn't want to inconvenience you. Anything I eat doesn't stay down for long, anyway. It would have been a waste of your time."
"Furuya," Miyuki says as he walks away from the stove and stands next to him. "I'm not well versed in the complications of childbearing, so you need to be more vocal about this stuff. I can't read your mind. This isn't like baseball where we can look at each other for a split second and know exactly what to do. This is a completely different ordeal, alright? Now, there must be something your stomach is capable of holding down. Tell me and I'll make it."
Furuya's ears perk up, "Crab omelet!"
"I already made an omelet. Mind if I throw some crab in it?"
"Can I be picky?"
"I'll be lenient today."
"Then, no. I want a fresh one. Now."
Miyuki places his hands on his hips. He's mindblown by Furuya's brazenness and demanding attitude, a trait he never deemed possible. Sure, he saw signs of it whenever Furuya refused to trade the mound with Eijun, but for it to manifest like this was shocking.
And annoying.
"So you want me to waste good money on your favorite food?" he asks incredulously. "Just who do you think runs things around here?"
"You don't have a choice," Furuya says matter-of-factly. "If you don't buy it, I'm not eating. Do you want our child to starve? That's not what an exemplary father does—"
"Fine!"
Miyuki unties his apron and throws it onto the table. The untouched plates go in the fridge and Miyuki saunters into his room. He comes back out in a sweater and pockets his wallet.
"Well? If you're fit to run your mouth, then you're fit to go outside, so get dressed. I swear you're going to be the death of me."
Furuya discreetly pumps his fist as he changes into a sweater and follows Miyuki outside.
'Miyuki-senpai's going to buy me a crab omelet,' he thinks, drooling. 'I have to write this down and save the receipt. I'm bonding with my favorite person over my favorite food…if this is a dream, I don't want to wake up.'
--
Three Hours Ago - 6:00 AM
"I don't know why you're just standing there," Kuramochi deadpans, straight-faced, "Come in."
"You're gonna hit me!" Eijun yells.
"That's not true."
"You're holding a belt! You're totally gonna hit me!"
Kuramochi looks down at the belt tightly secured in his hand. He looks at Masuko, then back at the belt, then drops it to the floor.
"As you can see," Kuramochi says, opening and closing his now free hand, "I'm not holding anything, so hurry up and come in. Practice is in a few minutes."
From his position in the doorway, Eijun pushes himself off the doorframe and slowly walks in, taking short strides in case Kuramochi suddenly pounces on him. He gulps as he nears his bed where his uniform is conveniently laid out, freshly washed and ironed.
'This is a trap!' Eijun thinks. 'He's gonna hit me, he's gonna hit me, he's gonna hit me—'
It all happens too fast for him to process.
As soon as he reaches for his pants, Kuramochi swipes up the belt and whips it in his direction, missing his backside by a hair.
"YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Kuramochi shouts, "I can't trust you for shit! You said you were gonna pay respects to Yakushi and bring your ass right back! I didn't know paying respects meant sucking Sanada's dick!"
Eijun whimpers as Kuramochi aims for him again, yet misses. He scampers to the door for an easy escape, but Masuko's already there and locks it with the key. Masuko gives him a sympathetic look and Eijun can sense the impending doom as his back hits the wall and Kuramochi looms over him, a murderous aura surrounding him.
"I'm sorry!" Eijun screeches, cowering in self-defense, "I can explain! Things just got out of hand!"
"You can't explain shit!" Kuramochi hisses, tapping the metal part of the belt against his palm menacingly. "I give you freedom for five minutes, five, and you somehow found yourself in the sheets of another man! And you were on the phone with me while you did it! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU PICK UP?!"
"Because you'd be angrier if I didn't!"
"True, but I didn't wanna hear you getting your cheeks clapped on speaker, DUMBASS!"
His belt proving to be ineffective, Kuramochi returns to his roots. He discards it and yanks Eijun off the wall, trapping him in a headlock.
"You have one minute to explain," he says. "If your explanation isn't satisfactory, I'm going to go apeshit."
Eijun manages to speak despite Kuramochi's bicep pressing against his throat.
"It j-just h-happened," he coughs, "I told him that I wanted comfort after…you know, so we had sex."
Kuramochi's brow furrows, "Sawamura, no. That's not how that works. I said to cope and take your time with it, not find some random dude and have sex with him. Jumping from partner to partner isn't going to heal the pain—"
"Sanada-senpai isn't some random dude," Eijun responds, gritting his teeth. He twists his body and slips out of Kuramochi's hold, surprised at how simple it was. He stands up and places a hand on his heart, "Please don't talk about Sanada-senpai like that, Mochi-senpai!
"He's always been there for me, but I ignored him because I was with Kazuya. Now, I want to cope with him. Different people cope in different ways and if being with Sanada-senpai floats my boat, then I'm gonna row it."
Taken aback, Kuramochi can only sit and watch as Eijun changes into his uniform, exposing his numerous hickeys and scratch marks. The brunette's phone chimes with a text and he proceeds to answer it, blushing, and Kuramochi feels what any caring upperclassman would feel—apprehension.
He jumps to his feet, "Hey," he says warily, "are you sure this is genuine? Are you sure he didn't take advantage of you because you were in a bad headspace? This is happening too quickly for my liking. Do you know what you're doing?"
Smoke puffs from Eijun's nostrils as he swings his bag over his shoulders, "Of course I know what I'm doing, Mochi-senpai! Don't underestimate the power of love!"
"Love? You guys aren't even dating!"
"I wouldn't bet on that if I were you," Eijun grins as he pries the keys from Masuko's hand and unlocks the door. He takes a deep breath and screams into the open as if he were expelling the final remains of his emotional slump. He looks back at Kuramochi, his grin widening.
"Let's go, let's go! I can't wait to get back on the mound and pitch again!"
Kuramochi and Masuko exchange hopeless expressions as they trail after Eijun.
--
6:30 AM
"BALLS ARE GONNA GO FLYING, SO THANKS IN ADVANCE!"
The field goes silent. Everyone's heads whip in the direction of the sound and they are beyond bewildered at what they see.
Eijun stands atop the mound, legs parted as he points one finger to the cloudless sky. His amber eyes are sparkling in the sunlight, his dark bags and tear-stains nowhere to be found. A new and revitalized energy was about him, and everyone found solace in one particular thought:
The old Sawamura Eijun was back.
Jun whistles as he and Tetsu join their circle of friends.
"Wow," he says, "Sawamura's skin is glowing, the sun is showing, and holy fuck, have we been waiting for this 180."
"I can't believe it either," Haruichi agrees, "He looks so fresh and energized. Just last week, he refused to come to practice or venture from his room at all. This calls for a celebration."
"Kuramochi," Tetsu says, "as his roommate, you must know the root of this miracle. He wasn't on the bus with us when we left the Yakushi game, correct? Where did he go?"
Kuramochi shrugs and withdraws a bat from a crate.
"Who knows. I'm not trying to give you guys any spoilers, but let's just say that Sawamura's acquired a new source of happiness overnight. I'm still on the fence about it, though."
"What makes you say that?" Kawakami questions. "If he's finally happy again, we shouldn't judge."
"I'm not judging, it's…I don't know. It seems superficial to me. I mean, anyone would glue themselves to the first thing that makes them forget about their sorrows. It's natural, but there's no way having good sex with someone he barely knows can cause this." 'Unless that person was there the entire time…'
Jun cackles as he walks up to Kuramochi and slaps him on the back.
"Okay, Aristotle, who told you to get all philosophical? Liven the fuck up! Superficial or not, genuine or not, our gopher boy is back in the game and our team's morale is gonna shoot through the roof. You jealous 'cause Sawamura's getting more action than you?"
"Hell no!" Kuramochi recoils from Jun and everyone laughs at his sudden outburst, "I am not jealous; it's called being a concerned upperclassman. He can do whatever he wants as long as he uses protection."
From the mound, Eijun roars as he winds up and throws three fierce pitches into the heart of Chris' mitt, deafening booms echoing throughout the field. Chris sports a soft smile as he stands up and lifts his mask.
"Three strikes," he announces.
Eijun's eyes widen. A familiar yet peculiar feeling courses through his body.
This position on the mound, the wind blowing strands of hair that stuck out from under his cap, the droplets of sweats trickling down his back, the cheers of his teammates as they rush towards him and lift his body in the air, elated that their beloved pitcher had found his groove.
He wants this to last as long as possible.
He thinks back to those harrowing nights he spent quarantined in his room, drowning in a turbulent sea of despair he crafted with his vulnerability and naivety. He promises himself that those nights would be replaced by ones with the love of Sanada and his team, how it should have been from the beginning.
"OSH, OSH, OSH! SAWAMURA EIJUN, THE CANNON, THE ROCKET, THE SOUTHPAW EXTRAORDINAIRE, HAS RISEN FROM THE DEAD, SO THANKS IN ADVANCE!"
--
Back to Now - 7:00 PM
"What are you making?" Furuya asks as he pops up behind Miyuki.
"Dinner," the catcher responds, sliding an onion onto the cutting board.
He slices it in half, then, using his left hand to hold it in place, dices it with his right hand with impressive precision. His movements are quick and sharp and within seconds, the glass bowl is filled with pearly pieces of onion, "Curry's on the menu. You're gonna love it. I've been perfecting this recipe for years. Wanna help?"
Furuya looks at his hands and backs away, fully aware that his chopping skills are nowhere near Miyuki's and that trying to mimic him would result in bloodshed.
"I'm okay," he says, taking a seat at the kitchen table, "I'd rather watch you from here."
"You're no fun."
Miyuki adds the onions to his pot of curry followed by one and a half sheets of gelatin. He grabs a whisk from the utensil holder and whisks vigorously, letting his wrist do the work.
"How long have you been cooking?" Furuya asks, finding difficulty in keeping up with Miyuki's actions, "This seems like second nature for you."
Miyuki opens the rice cooker and basks in the cloud of steam that hits his face, instantly fogging up his glasses and moistening his skin.
"My father is incapable of shit else other than working and paying the bills, and my mother…well, let's not talk about her. She wasn't the best mother, so I had to step it up and feed myself before I went hungry. I've been burning and cutting myself ever since I was five, but that's prepared me for this moment. I finally get to share my food with someone else. Ready to eat?"
Furuya's stomach rumbles as Miyuki sets a large plate in front of him. Divided perfectly are helpings of plump white rice and a thick brown sauce with several pieces of meat and carrots.
Furuya hurriedly utters his prayers before finishing his food in four big bites.
Miyuki drops his spoon in astonishment, only two bites in.
"I just…you…what? I blinked for one second and…do you want more?"
Furuya nods vehemently and doesn't wait for Miyuki's approval before helping himself to seconds.
He's never tasted anything so flavorful. A possible contender to his cherished crab omelet, Miyuki's curry was packed with a medley of seasonings and spices, some a tad too sophisticated for his palate to distinguish. It was a fiesta in his mouth, piñatas and all, and his stomach was screaming for more.
"I'm flattered," Miyuki says after another bite, "You're eating for two now, so don't hold back. I can always make more, but that's gonna cost you extra."
"Like what?" Furuya asks, occupied with scooping mountains of rice and curry onto his plate. 'Does he want a hug? Or perhaps a kiss—'
"Stay away from my father if you can."
Furuya notices the shift in Miyuki's tone and turns around. Miyuki's wearing a sincere expression, his eyes providing a mere snippet of the anger he showcased last night.
"It was my imagination," Furuya reinforces, rubbing his shoulder, "When I looked back, no one was there."
"No, you don't understand." Miyuki clears his plate and places it in the sink, "He's a creep. Mom left and a screw or two went loose up there. It's as if he blacks out and can't control himself, but I think that's a load of crap. He knows exactly what he's doing and he was trying to scare you when we first arrived. I'm not sure why he's preying on you, but we need to leave soon because things are going to escalate. I can feel it. I know it. It's too dangerous here."
"What are you suggesting?"
"That we tell him no later than tomorrow morning. Until then, you are not leaving my sight. You are not to walk around this house without me, understood? I need your stubborn self to obey me for once."
Though he doesn't voice it, Furuya doesn't comprehend why Miyuki was being so protective. The Kazuhiko he met the night before was old, feeble, and physically incapable of inflicting harm to the smallest of insects. It might simply be his ignorance about the Miyuki family history, and he would love to investigate deeper into their estranged female counterpart, but it would take an absurd amount of convincing. Miyuki dances around the topic, never wanting to delve into a bottomless pit of what he assumed to be painful and scarring memories.
He doesn't have the catcher's trust, not yet.
Furuya nods in response to Miyuki's request. Having lost his appetite, he closes the pots and puts his plate inside the fridge.
After clearing down the kitchen, they enter Miyuki's bedroom for the night.
Miyuki's final night of sanity.
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