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Eijun is sitting with Haruichi in a rare quiet moment after practice. Furuya and Miyuki had gone off to practice a few more pitches, and their senpais were off somewhere else. Eijun was sulking a little having failed to convince miyuki to catch for him.
He sits tracing the callouses on his left hand without saying much, and Haruichi sits beside him looking who knows where.
“Eijun-kun…”
Eijun stops tracing the callouses. He has to do something. Maybe if he goes and stares at Miyuki and Furuya they’ll let him join for a little while, or maybe he’ll run into Chris as he walks around. Eijun cradles his head in his hands thinking of what to do next, when an idea hits him.
“I wonder what Furuya would do if I called him by his given name.”
“Wait, Eijun-kun, you can’t just do it–”
“It’s a hypothetical! I’m just thinking,” Eijun nearly shouts.
There’s a pause.
“Your face is a little red, are you alright?”
“Ugh, I’m fine.” Eijun stands quickly. “I’m going to go see if I can join in pitching practice.”
He pretends not to hear Haruichi’s sigh, as he goes on his way. Haruichi is a few steps behind. They hear the familiar noise of a baseball hitting a mit as they approach, and Eijun hesitates a bit. Well, no time to wait. It’s getting late, and he’s definitely going to get turned away if he waits too much longer.
Eijun bursts into the room with his usual bravado.
“Miyuki, Satoru, let me pitch!”
“Eijun-kun!” Haruichi sounds a bit desperate behind him, and Miyuki bursts into a fit of giggles.
“Since when were you two that close?” Miyuki manages, still bent over trying to contain his mirth.
Eijun feels the blush rise over his face, but when he looks at Furuya, it gets worse. The dark-haired pitcher is just as red, if not more so, and he is deliberately looking at his hands. Eijun feels like he should look away, but he can’t ignore the uncharacteristic expression on his rival’s face. He looks like he’s trying to force himself to fall asleep to avoid the ensuing scene, but can’t. He gives up after about thirty seconds and turns slightly in Eijun’s direction.
“Sh-should I call you ‘Eijun,’ then?”
“Did you just stutter? Furuya, being called by your given name is pretty normal, no need to freak out. They’ve been calling each other ‘Eijun-kun’ and ‘Harucchi’ since day one.” Miyuki’s laughter returns.
Furuya turns to the catcher in slight annoyance, though his usually powerful intimidating aura is somewhat stifled by how embarrassed he still looks.
“Should I call you ‘Kazuya,’ then?” Furuya still manages to sound annoyed, and Miyuki’s laughter pauses for a moment.
“I’m your senpai, remember? Don’t you dare.”
“I should just leave!” Eijun yells out of nowhere; Haruichi is still standing by the door, an amused onlooker.
Eijun’s cheeks are still red, and he makes for the exit.
“Eijun,” a voice comes from behind him, and it takes a second to realize who it is.
“Furuya?” Eijun halts his escape to look over his shoulder. “What do you want?”
“Nothing, but…shouldn’t it be ‘Satoru’?” He asks, his gaze somewhere on the ground between him and Eijun.
Eijun balks for a second. He’d meant it as a joke, but after the reaction he got, he’s not sure what to do.
“If you want,” he says, trying to keep his tone casual.
“I don’t think I’d hate it,” Furuya mutters.
There’s another pause, where Eijun tries to process Furuya–no, Satoru’s–reply.
“Then, I’ll see you later, Satoru!” Eijun yells, and then sprints out of the door nearly knocking Haruichi over.
Satoru stares after him, looking a little dissatisfied. Miyuki claps him on the shoulder.
“You guys are supposed to be rivals,” the catcher prods. “But, I guess this kind of thing isn’t bad either.”
When Satoru asks what he means, all Miyuki does is give his characteristic chuckle.