[ To say that Furuya dislikes the summer would, possibly, be an understatement. As someone with no heat tolerance, the Tokyo heat doesn't agree with him very much, and every time they practice outside or go to games he finds himself missing home. It almost feels like all of the island of Hokkaido is cooler than just this one city, though whether that's true or not is not something he ever thinks about. Instead, his mind wanders to pitching in the cool summer breeze - until he remembers that there was never anyone there to catch his pitches, at home, and instead he refocuses on the now.
He doesn't like the heat, but there are people here in Tokyo, at Seidou. It's an all right compromise, he guesses.
But when the Tokyo winter rolls around, he nearly basks in it. They have a day off - renovations on the indoor practice areas, and the field being prepared for heavier snowfall - and Satoru couldn't be more thankful for it. It's almost peaceful, so he's not sure where Eijun has gone off to, nor the rest of the team, but he trails along with Haruichi contently, fingers hooked in his jacket pocket so that they don't get separated. His face is half-buried in his scarf, but honestly he's only brought it along in the event that the smaller, more delicate boy might need it.
The question gets his attention, and his initial answer after a beat is a soft "mm" so that Haruichi knows that he's heard him and isn't going to ignore him (unlike Miyuki and Eijun), as he mulls over his actual response. ] It's warmer here than home, but it's better than summer. [ It's nice. He tilts his head a little to look at him better. ] How is it for you?
[ the winter holidays are coming, and with them comes two things. the first is a few days off, where the dorms close--haruichi will travel home by train with ryousuke, where their mother will stuff them both with food and they'll sleep on bunk beds that still fit them both. it'll be nice. home for haruichi isn't that far away, and so he's sort of looking forward to winter holidays, although.. it'll be weird, not seeing furuya and eijun every day.
still. it's only three days off. just enough to go to the shrine, and then back to practice.
but with the promise of a few days off of the grueling training that is seidou comes the weather, and the weather is currently coming. there's supposedly a storm coming; the sky has been misty gray with the promise of falling snow, making everything seem like it's made of cotton, and the cold has been downright brutal. unlike furuya, haruichi has never been one for the cold--he usually wore a coat of his own and one of ryou's to stay warm in the winter, and if his red ears and hunched shoulders at the moment are any indication of it, he's cold right now too. ]
Mmm, it's cold. [ he ends up confirming with a little bit of a smile, reaching up to scratch his cheek with an ungloved hand. ] I get cold really easily. I guess we're kind of opposite, huh?
[ Further tilting his head, Furuya watches Haruichi, tracking his hand and frowning the slightest bit at it. The fact that he gets cold in the same way that the pitcher gets hot is a little concerning, especially since he's not wearing gloves to combat the oncoming storm. They'll probably have to head back before the weather gets greyer, so that they can get back to the dorms on time and safely, but right now he's more concerned with the redness of Haruichi's nose.
He draws both hands up, unwinding his scarf from around his neck bit by bit. ] We are. [ A belated agreement, but then he's taking his scarf and slowly wrapping it around Haruichi's neck and shoulders. ] Your nose is red.
[ As if this is a suitable explanation for what he's doing - which, it kind of is. At least in his opinion it is. He's not used to having these kinds of feelings, but all he really wants is to see Haruichi happy, especially since his laugh is something that warms Furuya to the core. Even in the summer, when he wants nothing but to be cold, he still likes to hear him laugh. So, now, he just wants him to be warm, especially when he thinks of how he brings him cold drinks and iced towels in the dugout and during practice.
Now he gets the chance to return the favor, and maybe express himself where his words generally fail. ]
Ah-- [ haruichi doesn't even really get time to protest; one minute he's contemplating how far he can pull up his coat collar against the biting wind, and the next, there's a scarf being wound around his neck. it's huge on him, more of a shawl than a scarf, and haruichi blushes from his forehead straight down to his (now covered) chin as the warm fabric comes up nicely to his nose, literally coming to cover his entire face.
(it also smells really good.) ]
Furuya-kun...! [ he ends up saying anyway, a little despondent out of the fact that he might get cold and the "you didn't have to do that" is on his tongue and in his tone, but it really does feel nice. and something in haruichi warms up that has nothing to do with the scarf.
what he ends up saying is a quiet ] Thank you. [ and buries his small hands in the too big fabric, pulling it snug against his mouth. he can still feel how bright red he is. ] Are you sure you're going to be okay?
Yes. [ His answer is immediate and simple, but then Furuya runs it through his head and ammends it, putting forth the effort to be a little better at this whole communication thing. Not that Haruichi has ever had much trouble understanding him, thankfully, but he wants to at least try this difficult thing for him. ] Of course - I'll be okay, so I want you to have it instead.
[ There, that's a more satisfactory answer. And while he's not the most emotive person around, he exudes a kind of quiet contentment at this. It's not much against the cold, but it's something, and he can see the stain of blush creeping across Haruichi's face. Really, his skin flushes easily, but it's sort of satisfying to be directly responsible for it in a way that makes it cute, not embarrassing for both of them.
Picking a little absently at the buttons of his coat, Furuya considers them absently. The gears are turning, and he makes a valiant effort to translate thought into actual words. So long as the sky doesn't fall down on them in the next hour he thinks he'll be fine, so he goes ahead and asks - ] Are you still cold?
Edited (phone + html = ???) 2015-08-31 16:57 (UTC)
[ haruichi glances up at him through his bangs as furuya explains himself, an answer coming out that's so typically furuya it makes him smile a little bit. point a to point b, that's how his two fellow first years seem to think (though eijun somehow makes it from point a to point q back around to point b sometimes), and it makes them very dependable. it's an admirable trait! and kind of cute, too.
(especially in furuya.)
speaking of, he's doing that thing where he looks contented, which usually only has to do with pitching--it makes haruichi blush a little further as he tucks his nose back into the scarf, content to stay quiet for the rest of the walk, up until furuya speaks up again.
[ At least with Furuya there's no bizarre beelines between points - he's direct, point to point. The only downside is that some people think it's blunt, or rude, when he's just being honest and simple. His teammates get him, even if sometimes they tell him he's a little too honest sometimes, but here he's comfortable with simply saying what's on his mind. Even if it's a little hard, to get the words in proper order.
Letting out a little hum of confirmation, he plucks at the buttons to undo them. The peacoat was a gift from his grandmother, and he likes it, but right now he's fine without it. His cold tolerance makes a sweater acceptable enough for the current weather, although he'd probably be actually chilly if they were back home and not in Tokyo.
(And that makes him think of him seeing his hometown, and Furuya actually flushes.) ]
Here - until we leave. [ He shrugs the coat off, bringing it around to Haruichi's shoulders. ]
[ seriously, as if haruichi's face could get any redder--clearly furuya is testing that today. he feels the heat spreading across his face and down his neck, and all haruichi can do is basically melt a little into the coat, because it's really warm and huge and okay, yeah, he'd really like to hold onto this and not give it up. ]
You're going to get sick... [ is his halfhearted protest, if only because he worries dearly for his friends (and they really kind of. need. him to worry about them. a lot. haruichi sometimes wonders if he's the only thing keeping them from killing each other or themselves on accident. )
but, he kind of nods a little and reaches up to take the coat from him--their fingers brush and haruichi pulls away a little too late, carefully pulling his arms through the holes. it's, of course, huge on him, the modest peacoat coming down midway to his calves, and his hands are dwarfed by the big sleeves, but the wool is thick and warm and he gives an involuntary little shiver and glances down at furuya's bare hands. ]
You know, even though you're used to it, you really should be wearing gloves, Furuya-kun--what about your fingers? [ because now, he doesn't even have pockets. so. haruichi clearly must remedy this.
his smile turns up at the corners, the 'i'm going to trick the fielders' smile he gets sometimes after basically orchestrating plays, and his small hand sneaks out of the kitten paw of the peacoat to press his palm to furuya's much bigger one. ]
[ With a little puff of satisfaction, now that Haruichi has been sufficiently swaddled in layers so that he won't get sick or go cold for the rest of the day, Furuya tugs his sleeves down a little on his sweater. It's a lot easier than looking at his friend in his coat, anyways, especially after the lingering touch. ] It won't be for very long, so it should be okay.
[ He curls his fingers over the cuffs of his sleeves, circling his thumb absently against the side of his index as they resume their little walk. It's not that his hands are cold, although he probably should have brought gloves himself. At least the chill doesn't bother him the same way it does Haruichi, and that's what matters. His hands are ever covered, now, by the kittenpaws the coat's given him.
But then attention is brought to his own bare hands, and Furuya blinks down at him. ] I'll be all right, Kominato - [ oh, okay, they're holding hands now ] - kun.
[ ... they're holding hands now.
He ducks his head a little and looks off to the side, picking at his sweater with his free hand. But after a beat, he shifts and adjusts how their hands are pressed together, threading their fingers together. ] ... thank you. This is. Much better.
[ sometimes with furuya, haruichi thinks he can actually see the cogs turning in his head. it's a form of his friend's social awkwardness--like he just doesn't know how to converse with people because he's never had to really do it before. the thought breaks haruichi's heart a little--it's easy enough to put together what kind of things must have happened before furuya satoru became furuya satoru the monster pitcher at seidou high. but here, he has friends and that's good--here, his social awkwardness is a point to tease and move on from. in all honesty, haruichi finds it endearing. his friend's habit of falling asleep in random places, of (literally) ignoring eijun and miyuki when they tell him things he doesn't want to hear--it's all just another part of furuya.
he rarely ignores haruichi, which makes him feel all kinds of warm inside.
the two of them get along really well. haruichi gets along great with most of the team--eijun, especially, could be considered his best friend, and his loving nickname of 'kominato jr.' guarantees his acceptance into the fold of first string players. he hasn't had trouble bonding with people since ryousuke used to beat up his bullies, and though he's always been shy and quiet, he's friendly. and maybe those two things (haruichi's inablity to take praise without getting horrifically embarrassed and the smile he always has for his teammates, for his brother, for his friends) are what made his and furuya's bond as strong as it was. he isn't loud or brash like eijun, doesn't tease or needle like miyuki. he just enjoys spending time with furuya in his own, quiet way, and he thinks that maybe furuya enjoys spending time with him too.
especially after that reaction. talk about cogs turning--haruichi almost watches the process as he realizes that he is, in fact, holding his hand. though his own face is burning red, enough that he can feel it in his ears, haruichi can't help but smile in spite of himself. his hand is big compared to haruichi's, fingers long where his are short and delicate, but their callouses match, and the warmth he's feeling isn't just coming from the peacot wrapped around him.
as their fingers thread together, haruichi ends up ducking his nose further into the big scarf. he hasn't really addressed these feelings yet, just knows that they happened and that they're there, and maybe, just maybe, they're returned. he gives his hand a squeeze, and his tone is nothing but warm. ]
[ As someone who spent much of his childhood shy and quiet, and then further withdrew when his teammates in junior high deemed him a monster impossible to play with, Furuya has no idea how to interact with people. He's only recently come to terms with the fact that he has people at his back, now, but it's still relatively difficult for him to talk to them. Most of the time he thinks of what he could say and it cycles through his head, turning those gears in his brain like clockwork. Socially awkward, quiet, and used to being on his own, some people are harder to socialize with than others.
Eijun is loud, and while they enable one another at times and their rivalry fuels their friendship, he always finds himself tired after some one-on-one time with the other pitcher. He admires Miyuki, even if he finds him to be frustrating when he grins that self-satisfied grin of his, gets irritated with his teasing. Both of them are easy to ignore, when they're doing or saying something he doesn't want to deal with.
But the one person that he truly admires is Haruichi. People underestimate him constantly because of his size, because of how he looks, but if anyone on this team is a prodigy it's him. Pitching is all he ever wants to do, is the thing that satisfies him most, challenges him most, but there's always a sort of thrill when he and Harucchi practice together. There's a brilliant mind hidden behind all that cotton candy-colored hair, and he can feel the hard work he puts into everything he does by the press of their hands together, matching callouses.
Most of all, though, being with him is nice. They don't have to talk - although it's easiest, out of everyone on the team, for him to talk to Haruichi, because he's patient as he thinks of how to string his responses together - and there's no pressure. A little teasing, but lighthearted rather than that familiar needling. Haruichi is gentle and welcoming, but that doesn't change the fact he's power, a storm, neatly packed away in porcelain.
So while he doesn't know what to do, Furuya does know what this feeling is. And if they're holding hands... ]
[ furuya's hand feels really, really nice in his. that's the first thing that comes to mind as haruichi gets used to the feeling. his hands are really warm despite the cold--probably because he just isn't feeling it--and his callouses are rough on his own, fingers so big they almost wrap over the top of his hand. these are hands that pitch. hands that handle a baseball every single day. the hands of a monster pitcher, as some people have called him, who can throw a fastball so awe-inspiring that even haruichi has trouble hitting it. he's hit furuya's pitches a few times in practice, but he can't control them like he wants to, like he can with almost every other pitch, because furuya's pitches are so strong. he could see why he did so badly with other people: people were scared of him.
but haruichi's not scared of him at all. he finds furuya hopelessly endearing most of the time--even when he's scolding him for falling asleep in practice because it's hot, even when he's ignoring eijun or miyuki. he's never found him difficult to understand, or even scary, mostly because he was quick to figure out that his friend just didn't know how to do a lot of things socially, and if anyone could emphasize with that, it was haruichi. he knows what it's like to be picked on (what quiet and shy kid with pink hair wouldn't?) and he knows, if he hadn't had his big brother? he probably would have turned out much the same as furuya.
so it's easy for him to be quiet with him. it's easy for their silences to lapse into companionable, easy for him to communicate with him with just a look from behind his fringe. and it's easy to talk too, because haruichi will always be patient. he knows it's there, and he knows what's there is worth it.
as he speaks, haruichi looks up at him. his cheeks are still pink, half from the cold and half from holding furuya's hand, but he tilts his head to the side a little. ] Yes, Furuya-kun?
[ Almost absently, Furuya rubs his thumb along Haruichi's, eyes down as he tries to figure out how exactly he wants to say this. Putting effort into picking the right words, instead of just saying the first thing that his mind churns out. It's hard, a lot of the time, but he wants to do this for Haruichi, to make sure that he tells him what he's thinking before it has a chance to slip away.
Not that Haruichi himself is going anywhere, considering the fact that their fingers are tangled together and their palms pressed close. He can feel where some of their callouses match, from handling a ball so often, but there are still differences. A pitcher and an infielder, and all their hard work is written on their hands. But that's not all that's there, in his delicate touch, because he's seen him practicing with that wooden bat of his late into the day, time and time again. And he has to wonder, what would happen if he used a metal bat, if he could send the ball flying further after all that time with the wooden one, after all the strength he's put into the wooden one. But there's something strangely satisfying, for someone who doesn't want their pitches to be hit, in hearing the crack of the ball meeting wood on the occasion that Satoru throws for Haruichi.
He wants to keep that. He wants to keep this companionship, and Haruichi's patience and cleverness, the easy way that they mesh. There's no stress or exhaustion, even when he's being scolded for falling asleep or pretending to eat so he can go practice faster. It's not often he wants things beyond his norm, but he figures - in a very simple way, really - that he can try. ]
Has this been a date? [ Do his cheeks flush with more color? A little, maybe. ]
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cracks knuckles let's go
He doesn't like the heat, but there are people here in Tokyo, at Seidou. It's an all right compromise, he guesses.
But when the Tokyo winter rolls around, he nearly basks in it. They have a day off - renovations on the indoor practice areas, and the field being prepared for heavier snowfall - and Satoru couldn't be more thankful for it. It's almost peaceful, so he's not sure where Eijun has gone off to, nor the rest of the team, but he trails along with Haruichi contently, fingers hooked in his jacket pocket so that they don't get separated. His face is half-buried in his scarf, but honestly he's only brought it along in the event that the smaller, more delicate boy might need it.
The question gets his attention, and his initial answer after a beat is a soft "mm" so that Haruichi knows that he's heard him and isn't going to ignore him (unlike Miyuki and Eijun), as he mulls over his actual response. ] It's warmer here than home, but it's better than summer. [ It's nice. He tilts his head a little to look at him better. ] How is it for you?
no subject
still. it's only three days off. just enough to go to the shrine, and then back to practice.
but with the promise of a few days off of the grueling training that is seidou comes the weather, and the weather is currently coming. there's supposedly a storm coming; the sky has been misty gray with the promise of falling snow, making everything seem like it's made of cotton, and the cold has been downright brutal. unlike furuya, haruichi has never been one for the cold--he usually wore a coat of his own and one of ryou's to stay warm in the winter, and if his red ears and hunched shoulders at the moment are any indication of it, he's cold right now too. ]
Mmm, it's cold. [ he ends up confirming with a little bit of a smile, reaching up to scratch his cheek with an ungloved hand. ] I get cold really easily. I guess we're kind of opposite, huh?
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He draws both hands up, unwinding his scarf from around his neck bit by bit. ] We are. [ A belated agreement, but then he's taking his scarf and slowly wrapping it around Haruichi's neck and shoulders. ] Your nose is red.
[ As if this is a suitable explanation for what he's doing - which, it kind of is. At least in his opinion it is. He's not used to having these kinds of feelings, but all he really wants is to see Haruichi happy, especially since his laugh is something that warms Furuya to the core. Even in the summer, when he wants nothing but to be cold, he still likes to hear him laugh. So, now, he just wants him to be warm, especially when he thinks of how he brings him cold drinks and iced towels in the dugout and during practice.
Now he gets the chance to return the favor, and maybe express himself where his words generally fail. ]
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(it also smells really good.) ]
Furuya-kun...! [ he ends up saying anyway, a little despondent out of the fact that he might get cold and the "you didn't have to do that" is on his tongue and in his tone, but it really does feel nice. and something in haruichi warms up that has nothing to do with the scarf.
what he ends up saying is a quiet ] Thank you. [ and buries his small hands in the too big fabric, pulling it snug against his mouth. he can still feel how bright red he is. ] Are you sure you're going to be okay?
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[ There, that's a more satisfactory answer. And while he's not the most emotive person around, he exudes a kind of quiet contentment at this. It's not much against the cold, but it's something, and he can see the stain of blush creeping across Haruichi's face. Really, his skin flushes easily, but it's sort of satisfying to be directly responsible for it in a way that makes it cute, not embarrassing for both of them.
Picking a little absently at the buttons of his coat, Furuya considers them absently. The gears are turning, and he makes a valiant effort to translate thought into actual words. So long as the sky doesn't fall down on them in the next hour he thinks he'll be fine, so he goes ahead and asks - ] Are you still cold?
no subject
(especially in furuya.)
speaking of, he's doing that thing where he looks contented, which usually only has to do with pitching--it makes haruichi blush a little further as he tucks his nose back into the scarf, content to stay quiet for the rest of the walk, up until furuya speaks up again.
he blinks. ] Only a little! This helped a lot.
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Letting out a little hum of confirmation, he plucks at the buttons to undo them. The peacoat was a gift from his grandmother, and he likes it, but right now he's fine without it. His cold tolerance makes a sweater acceptable enough for the current weather, although he'd probably be actually chilly if they were back home and not in Tokyo.
(And that makes him think of him seeing his hometown, and Furuya actually flushes.) ]
Here - until we leave. [ He shrugs the coat off, bringing it around to Haruichi's shoulders. ]
no subject
You're going to get sick... [ is his halfhearted protest, if only because he worries dearly for his friends (and they really kind of. need. him to worry about them. a lot. haruichi sometimes wonders if he's the only thing keeping them from killing each other or themselves on accident. )
but, he kind of nods a little and reaches up to take the coat from him--their fingers brush and haruichi pulls away a little too late, carefully pulling his arms through the holes. it's, of course, huge on him, the modest peacoat coming down midway to his calves, and his hands are dwarfed by the big sleeves, but the wool is thick and warm and he gives an involuntary little shiver and glances down at furuya's bare hands. ]
You know, even though you're used to it, you really should be wearing gloves, Furuya-kun--what about your fingers? [ because now, he doesn't even have pockets. so. haruichi clearly must remedy this.
his smile turns up at the corners, the 'i'm going to trick the fielders' smile he gets sometimes after basically orchestrating plays, and his small hand sneaks out of the kitten paw of the peacoat to press his palm to furuya's much bigger one. ]
no subject
[ He curls his fingers over the cuffs of his sleeves, circling his thumb absently against the side of his index as they resume their little walk. It's not that his hands are cold, although he probably should have brought gloves himself. At least the chill doesn't bother him the same way it does Haruichi, and that's what matters. His hands are ever covered, now, by the kittenpaws the coat's given him.
But then attention is brought to his own bare hands, and Furuya blinks down at him. ] I'll be all right, Kominato - [ oh, okay, they're holding hands now ] - kun.
[ ... they're holding hands now.
He ducks his head a little and looks off to the side, picking at his sweater with his free hand. But after a beat, he shifts and adjusts how their hands are pressed together, threading their fingers together. ] ... thank you. This is. Much better.
no subject
he rarely ignores haruichi, which makes him feel all kinds of warm inside.
the two of them get along really well. haruichi gets along great with most of the team--eijun, especially, could be considered his best friend, and his loving nickname of 'kominato jr.' guarantees his acceptance into the fold of first string players. he hasn't had trouble bonding with people since ryousuke used to beat up his bullies, and though he's always been shy and quiet, he's friendly. and maybe those two things (haruichi's inablity to take praise without getting horrifically embarrassed and the smile he always has for his teammates, for his brother, for his friends) are what made his and furuya's bond as strong as it was. he isn't loud or brash like eijun, doesn't tease or needle like miyuki. he just enjoys spending time with furuya in his own, quiet way, and he thinks that maybe furuya enjoys spending time with him too.
especially after that reaction. talk about cogs turning--haruichi almost watches the process as he realizes that he is, in fact, holding his hand. though his own face is burning red, enough that he can feel it in his ears, haruichi can't help but smile in spite of himself. his hand is big compared to haruichi's, fingers long where his are short and delicate, but their callouses match, and the warmth he's feeling isn't just coming from the peacot wrapped around him.
as their fingers thread together, haruichi ends up ducking his nose further into the big scarf. he hasn't really addressed these feelings yet, just knows that they happened and that they're there, and maybe, just maybe, they're returned. he gives his hand a squeeze, and his tone is nothing but warm. ]
I think so too.
no subject
Eijun is loud, and while they enable one another at times and their rivalry fuels their friendship, he always finds himself tired after some one-on-one time with the other pitcher. He admires Miyuki, even if he finds him to be frustrating when he grins that self-satisfied grin of his, gets irritated with his teasing. Both of them are easy to ignore, when they're doing or saying something he doesn't want to deal with.
But the one person that he truly admires is Haruichi. People underestimate him constantly because of his size, because of how he looks, but if anyone on this team is a prodigy it's him. Pitching is all he ever wants to do, is the thing that satisfies him most, challenges him most, but there's always a sort of thrill when he and Harucchi practice together. There's a brilliant mind hidden behind all that cotton candy-colored hair, and he can feel the hard work he puts into everything he does by the press of their hands together, matching callouses.
Most of all, though, being with him is nice. They don't have to talk - although it's easiest, out of everyone on the team, for him to talk to Haruichi, because he's patient as he thinks of how to string his responses together - and there's no pressure. A little teasing, but lighthearted rather than that familiar needling. Haruichi is gentle and welcoming, but that doesn't change the fact he's power, a storm, neatly packed away in porcelain.
So while he doesn't know what to do, Furuya does know what this feeling is. And if they're holding hands... ]
Kominato-kun?
no subject
but haruichi's not scared of him at all. he finds furuya hopelessly endearing most of the time--even when he's scolding him for falling asleep in practice because it's hot, even when he's ignoring eijun or miyuki. he's never found him difficult to understand, or even scary, mostly because he was quick to figure out that his friend just didn't know how to do a lot of things socially, and if anyone could emphasize with that, it was haruichi. he knows what it's like to be picked on (what quiet and shy kid with pink hair wouldn't?) and he knows, if he hadn't had his big brother? he probably would have turned out much the same as furuya.
so it's easy for him to be quiet with him. it's easy for their silences to lapse into companionable, easy for him to communicate with him with just a look from behind his fringe. and it's easy to talk too, because haruichi will always be patient. he knows it's there, and he knows what's there is worth it.
as he speaks, haruichi looks up at him. his cheeks are still pink, half from the cold and half from holding furuya's hand, but he tilts his head to the side a little. ] Yes, Furuya-kun?
no subject
Not that Haruichi himself is going anywhere, considering the fact that their fingers are tangled together and their palms pressed close. He can feel where some of their callouses match, from handling a ball so often, but there are still differences. A pitcher and an infielder, and all their hard work is written on their hands. But that's not all that's there, in his delicate touch, because he's seen him practicing with that wooden bat of his late into the day, time and time again. And he has to wonder, what would happen if he used a metal bat, if he could send the ball flying further after all that time with the wooden one, after all the strength he's put into the wooden one. But there's something strangely satisfying, for someone who doesn't want their pitches to be hit, in hearing the crack of the ball meeting wood on the occasion that Satoru throws for Haruichi.
He wants to keep that. He wants to keep this companionship, and Haruichi's patience and cleverness, the easy way that they mesh. There's no stress or exhaustion, even when he's being scolded for falling asleep or pretending to eat so he can go practice faster. It's not often he wants things beyond his norm, but he figures - in a very simple way, really - that he can try. ]
Has this been a date? [ Do his cheeks flush with more color? A little, maybe. ]