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Sawamura Eijun is not Miyuki Kazuya's first crush. No, that was Chris. A crush is supposed to be a brief and intense infatuation that lasts only for a little while. Chris was all of that. It was fleeting, in a way at least, the intensity wore off over the years, But for that time that Kazuya liked Chris, it was intense. Maybe due to being a baseball-obsessed idiot that made him say that, but Chris was beautiful. The way he played, the way he strategized for each game was something Kazuya admired. But who would Miyuki Kazuya be if everything in his life didn’t revolve around baseball? So, Miyuki’s first crush being a rival catcher he could probably never defeat was quite fitting.
Sawamura Eijun is not Miyuki Kazuya's second crush. No, that was Mei. There were fleeting moments of a racing heartbeat when he saw Mei or when they sat beside each other, leaning against the wall, after a game where one of them won over the other. They would look at each other before they leaned closer and pressed their lips against each other. It would make Miyuki smile. Sometimes. Rarely. But it counted, right? Sometimes, he thinks that Mei was more than just a crush. Crushes are supposed to be unattainable. They were people you peek at when you think they aren’t looking at you. Mei might have been more than a crush.
Firsts are forever. You hold it in your heart forever. You could be seventy years old sitting on a rocking chair with memory issues like people at that age have, but you’d remember the first person who made you smile. The first person you admire. Chris was memorable.
Kazuya would never forget him.
The second was special. This was the person that made you look away from your first. This was the person who’d huff and puffs his cheeks up when Kazuya hit his winning pitch. This was the one who had so much faith in your abilities that he wanted Kazuya to follow him because to him, Kazuya was the best. Nobody ever wanted him like that before. Of course, Kazuya didn’t follow him, but that was not the point.
The point was the firsts are forever. The seconds are special.
The third was… just there, right?
It came after the second but not because you were looking for it. It sort of happened. Like when you enter a new grade to see this person you’ve never seen before. They would smile when you handed them a pen they asked to borrow, and you’d stutter out a welcome. It happened then because you think they’re pretty or smart, or maybe both. Or, it could be one early morning after you pulled an all-nighter for an exam when you were going to order a cup of tea at the coffee shop but end up ordering a cup of terrible coffee because you looked at the barista, and they were cute.
The point wasn’t that you hated coffee. The point was that third crushes just happen with no explanation whatsoever.
It happened for Kazuya one Spring day during his third year when he was crouched behind home plate when the ball slammed into his mitt. The impact of the pitch hitting his mitt left him stunned.
That’s when he realised that he was now growing to have a third. It was Sawamura Eijun.
It took only one game, which they lost, to realise that there was someone after Mei now.
He wasn’t like Chris. Chris had a gentle smile and soft words. He wasn’t someone who could outwit Kazuya as Chris could.
He wasn’t like Mei either. Mei had arrogant smirks and challenging words. He wasn’t someone who Kazuya considers his rival as well as one of the best players he’s ever seen.
He was just Sawamura Eijun. With his loud voice and a peal of even louder laughter that seemed to echo around the field at all times. Who stood up again and again after every defeat and strived to be better. Who didn’t have Chris’ tactics, or Mei’s abilities but still could uplift the team every time they were in a pinch.
Maybe it was the admiration that turned into a crush? Or maybe it was because Sawamura was now the pitcher Kazuya once saw he could be.
Whatever the reason was, Miyuki Kazuya had a crush on Sawamura Eijun. All of a sudden, he was aware of everything about Sawamura Eijun. His eyes would seek him out amid practice. He’d tease him more to draw out more reactions from him. He’d wrap his arm around Sawamura’s shoulder, pulling him in closer to whisper in his ears.
But as Kazuya said before, crushes are meant to be unreachable and fleeting. Like it was with Chris and Mei. It was something you grew out of quickly.
Not this time.
As the days passed, it grew and grew and grew until it snapped. Snapped on that night after they won the Summer Qualifiers, Kazuya had pressed Sawamura against the wall inside the indoor practising area and kissed him. He thought that Sawamura would pull away, or push him or scream at him.
Sawamura wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.
Sawamura whispered, finally, after Kazuya pulled away.
Sawamura became Eijun.
And Eijun was greedy. Eijun wanted it all, and Kazuya could only smile and give in. And Eijun made him selfish too. He made him want Eijun’s smiles and laughter and everything for himself. He’d tease him if it meant that Eijun was looking at him. He’d catch any pitches he wanted if it meant that Eijun’s attention was solely on him. He’d do anything so that Eijun revolved around him.
And at one point, Kazuya realised that he couldn’t see a life where Eijun wasn’t a part of it anymore. Kazuya’s life was baseball. Now he can't picture a baseball where Eijun wasn't standing 18 metres away from him on the mound, eyes burning gold and grinning at Kazuya’s sign.
But everything must come to an end. Kazuya’s high school baseball career had drawn its curtains after the Koshien, and he no longer played with Eijun.
He was being contacted by pros and colleges.
He had books and notes to read for finals while Eijun had the fall tournament.
Kazuya knew how stories like these went. He’d graduate and move to another city hours away. He’d be busy with his new life and Eijun would be busy with his. He’d have to fight to make it to the bench while Eijun would continue on to be the ace of the team. Slowly they’d drift away because it was inevitable.
Or, Kazuya shouldn’t have underestimated Eijun.
Eijun who cornered him during his graduation and, trying not to cry, promised him that he would follow him just like he followed him to Seido. No, that he would chase after Kazuya.
Eijun would text him every day about everything that happened at practice. He would call him and talk to him for hours as Kazuya cooked.
And every single day Kazuya would fall more and more, and he’d wonder when did this thing become more than just a crush. When did it become so that Sawamura Eijun was the first thing he’d think of when he woke up in the morning and the last thing he thought of when he went to bed.
A year passes by, and then Eijun graduates. He gets drafted. Although he got drafted to a different team in another city, hours away from his own.
And again it had him wondering if this was it. If this was how far they’d go and it would make him want to curl up and scream at the unfairness because Eijun was supposed to be his. If Eijun was supposed to be his and Kazuya was supposed to be Eijun’s, then why couldn’t they have this.
But Eijun, the brilliant, beautiful boy, had smiled and told him that they would have to compete with each other. That they’d have to work hard so that they have the opportunity to choose each other.
And Kazuya already knew ages ago that he was in love with Sawamura Eijun but he thinks he might love him more. He might love him more every single day. It would grow and grow with each passing day because this wasn’t a crush anymore. It stopped being a crush when Eijun kissed him back the first time. Maybe even before that. Maybe it was after that. That wasn’t the point.
The point is Sawamura Eijun is Miyuki Kazuya's third crush. Third crush is meant to be just there. Something that happens, and you get over it, and you move on.
Miyuki Kazuya fell in love with Sawamura Eijun.
He would always love him. Even when he is seventy, sitting on a rocking chair, he’d look to his side to see Eijun there.
Because he was in love with him.
Because he would always love him.