#noriforace2kforever

[rewatching]

[summer numbers. a year ago it seemed like an impossibility, a mirage he'd have no part of, their age still waiting in the wings as they followed the backs of their seniors, the other front-runners who walked before them like giants.

hisashi doesn't have a number in his hands, and at first that had hurt, a lot. he still feels brittle and hollow, all those months of toil bringing nothing but a scorebook in the dugout and no chance at bat, when he thinks about it, but it's never been just about him. the team means too much to him to be angry with his teammates, instead of himself.

and when nori is finally wearing the one hisashi knew he could take, that's their age standing on stage, their giant walking among them.

it's getting late in the evening when he finds nori, sun down and the team scattering to dorm rooms. it takes him five minutes of peeking around before he follows his instincts and passes through the cafeteria to the opposite exit. there. ] Nori. [ he moves carefully into his space, hands linked in front of himself casually. ] Don't stay up too late, ace. [ he smiles, and there's honesty in it. ]

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[sidewind]

[they're really kind of a pair in that respect.

will ace ever stop being jarring? he's hyperaware of everything, from the title to the gentle deliberateness with which he's being touched; it all feels like shocks of exclamation points in his chest, raising his pulse for a couple of seconds each time. his gut reaction is to return those little gestures, but that seems too deliberate.

he was looking down at where their hands touched for long enough for it to be obvious, but he raises his gaze, expression serious-- that one face he makes when he's really made up his mind on something.] I won't let you down. You or the rest of the team. ...I can handle whatever you throw at me.

[probably.]

[rewatching]

[ nori may be obvious staring down toward their hands, but he's obvious staring at nori's face while his eyes are turned away from him. he makes a small noise of surprise at the change in nori's expression.

that's the face of an ace. ] Of course you can.

[ emboldened by that bit of courage, his knuckles brush nori's again, and then he curls his wrist to touch his fingers to nori's palm. ] I never had any doubt. [ he looks up, blushing like a tomato. ]

[sidewind]

[okay, well.

okay.

okay, yeah, there's no ignoring that, really, no rationalizing it away, no it wasn't what it seemed, and his face is warm again-- not just his face, he's flushed to the tips of his ears this time. he's being encouraged, he knows that, and he'd literally just said he could take anything thrown at him, and while this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd said it... well, it would be a lie to say he didn't want it.

his own movements are a little jerky in his shyness; the way he has to fumble to get his wrist at an angle where he can slide his fingers between nabe's probably leaves something to be desired, and he laughs a little at himself, a habit born of self-deprecation but one that stuck despite slow but steady growth.

he can be brave, when he needs to be, he thinks. that's what got him this far.] That's-- that's good. Knowing that you believe in me... helps. It makes me feel stronger.

[rewatching]

[ when he laughs it's in concert, the nervous sort of giggling that bubbles up when you can't hold in something happy, and he's as flushed as nori under the fringe of his bangs. ] I'm glad.

[ his grip pulses tighter, just for a second. ] Watching you blossom since fall was really inspiring, you know. Even when I felt like giving up, I knew I couldn't face you if I hadn't tried my hardest, too. So... thanks.

[ he doesn't regret working to the end, merely the falling short. but it's work he's proud of having done anyway. ]

[sidewind]

[he squeezes back, reflexively, and he's smiling too, equally reflexive, and luminous in a way that he wasn't a moment ago. he laughs again, an uncommon chirrup of a thing, shy but so, so pleased despite a small fear lingering in the back of his mind that this whole day is too good to be true-- he nods anyway. fear doesn't own him anymore.] Yeah, I-- I felt that way too. Um, about finding motivation in... you, I mean, even when I wanted to give up, and-- yeah.

[okay, rein it in, you're getting rambly.] I would thank you too, but... we'd just get stuck going back and forth, probably? [has this sort of thing happened before? yes.]

[rewatching]

[ he tilts his head enough to look at nori when he hears him laugh, and his careful, calm expression slips. hisashi considers himself apt at seeing nori for himself, at not letting sawamura and furuya and the freshmen outshine nori in his estimation or in his eyes, but the brightness in nori's expression hits him like - not a freight train, nothing so crude or violent. like gray skies first clearing. like the way the field smells when the grass has just been cut.

like baseball, at nine years old.

the rambling is familiar. cute. and pleasant, because it's not the way he talks to the other people he spends most of his time with. (to be fair, that's mostly the troublesome underclassmen and... miyuki... but, still.) the sentiment is a surprise, though. he doesn't think he's ever been much of an inspiration for anybody, except maybe freshmen trying not to be him, least of all the team's ace. proof that the road they're all walking isn't one they're walking by themselves, maybe.

lightly: ] You're probably right. And then we wouldn't get anywhere, would we?

[ he swallows, chest tight. ] Um. Would you... mind? If I kissed you? [ because he'd like to, but not - not if nori thinks that'd be too fast? he hasn't dated anyone since middle school, he's not sure about protocol. ]

[sidewind]

[what's protocol when you've never been considered, by yourself or anyone else, dateable, let alone kissable?

what's protocol when the moment feels like something out of a movie, and everything else falls away because nothing else in the entire world matters outside of the realization that you are wanted?

he could have kept going about nabe being an inspiration-- they're two of a kind in at least one significant aspect, intimately familiar with failure and simply not being as good as other people at what they do, familiar with the falling down and the getting back up and the asking of what can I do now? how can I continue from here? and he knows it's no mean feat. he understands that so well that it hurts.

but even that means little right now. the question feels sort of out of left field, but maybe not-- not that he minds, honestly, because nabe is bright and beautiful in ways he could never apply to himself (or anyone else, at this point), sharp and observant and attentive and how...? did he end up in this luckiest of spots? it was something that should have been reserved for dreams, something far-fetched that he knew in his heart of hearts he wasn't meant to have, but here it is, laid out before him in the form of nabe's voice, their hands entwined, reassuring him.

he catches himself leaning in, backpedaling a little because it seems like it would be more polite to offer a verbal response:] ...I wouldn't mind at all.

[rewatching]

[ (the question did come out of left field, in a sense - after all, that's where the field had spread out beneath his feet for two-and-one-third years here at seido. you can take the outfielder out of the outfield, but you can't take the outfield out of the outfielder, and that's okay, when baseball's what brought them here in the first place.)

butterflies flutter in his throat when nori leans in that little bit. he's hopeful - that hadn't exactly looked negative - but there's no absolutes in love or baseball, and he waits, trying to ignore the butterflies multiplying. he's frozen with anticipation until nori answers,, and he smiles, reflexive, at the affirmative. ]

I'm very glad to hear that. [ he twists to put them face-to-face and leans up to close the gap between them, gently pressing his palm to nori's shoulder for a little extra balance. he kisses softly, but with the exact same persistence that makes him a successful scout. ]

[sidewind]

[he could never have expected anything different. he had never done too much imagining, as too much of that generally tends to lead to things like disappointment and heartache, but this is... beyond anything that's entered his mind, anyway, and yet still completely within the realm of yes, this makes sense. funny how that works.

he's shy, at first; he always is, no matter what new thing he's trying he always starts off a little too cautious, a little slow to adapt, something easily mistaken for ineptitude or lack of drive, but it's only moments before shy uncertainty blossoms into warmth and steadiness, joined by a heady rush of boldness that sweeps through him and has him lifting a hand to cradle the side of nabe's face as if to draw him further in. it almost feels like it'll be too much, but the worry seems distant, and he isn't afraid right now. not one bit.]

[rewatching]

[ nori gains steam quicker than he'd thought he would. he would smile, if he weren't otherwise occupied. instead he leans into nori, not quite enough to close the gap between them. that feels a little too wide a cavern to hop across just yet, when he's still learning how their hands fit together.

his fingers slide to curve over the slope of nori's shoulder in response to the hand on his face. the touch is a surprise, but the sweet kind. he hums, just a tiny bit. sometimes he lets his daydreams get away from him, when facts are a little too harsh. this bucked his expectations, tossed probabilities out the window, and it's real, better and gentler and so - nori. ]

[sidewind]

[not that he could ever be anything else; he's long since learned that he isn't built to emulate others, and the best way for him to succeed is to slowly, piece by piece, embrace the things that set him apart. if asked, he certainly wouldn't be able to explain what exactly a very nori kiss is like, but as he's done with baseball, he'll learn to make this his own as well, in time.

hopefully it's something nice enough to do more than once, because he's feeling like he's going to combust from happiness, enough where he finds himself smiling too much to continue kissing, and he breaks away with something suspiciously like a giggle.] Ah-- sorry, sorry, I just... [yeah, no, that's an actual giggle.] I'm-- happy.