Lend me broken parts *MiSawa ff*

Lend me broken parts

Kazuya had never been sentimental. He's practical, and avoids getting attached, avoids heart to heart talks, avoids anything that would give away how he truly feels.

In Isashiki's and Sawamura's shoujo mangas, he'd be the most challenging character the main girl has to open up. But Kazuya is not a shoujo manga character, and although Sawamura had been successful with breaking Kazuya's walls, and crawling through the cracks to get into his life's very core, making a space there for himself to stay, kazuya had never thought of how he sees his relationship with Sawamura as anything more than platonic.

Kazuya wanted Sawamura to stay, he wanted the southpaw to pitch to him until their arms stop moving. He wanted to be in a battery with the pitcher for as long as they could play. And It still amazes Kazuya how the loud, obnoxious, over-the-top and once unpolished with promising potential 10th grader pitcher had become someone Kazuya wish (desperately wants) to be constant in his life, even baseball being out of the story. Kazuya would sometimes shake his head grinning, affection bubbling up his chest at the mere thought of Sawamura's dumb smile and bright eyes.

If it's easy to ask Sawamura for his presence in Kazuya's life even beyond baseball, he would. And that would sound misleading, Kazuya knew. To the ears of other people, it would sound like a love confession if spoken. But it isn't one and Kazuya's certain that Sawamura would understand. Kazuya, even knowing this, never asks though. Because, somehow, for whatever reason, he assumed Sawamura would just be there, for how long Kazuya wants him to.

Confident of the fact that Sawamura and baseball would always be a package in his life, Kazuya found himself slipping into comfort of the knowledge, contented and settled.

And it seemed that Sawamura had the same plan, although, through a different way.

"Miyuki Kazuya, i've liked you for a while now, go out with this Sawamura Eijun!"

In a different situation, with Kazuya not being the one confessed to, he would've been in awe, because Sawamura never changes, be it about baseball, arguments, and love confessions. He would always be so straightforward and... demanding--a typical character of the most high-maintenance player in a baseball team: a pitcher. Sometimes it's annoying, most of the times it's admirable.

But that moment it was... neither. Kazuya didn't know how to react, didn't know what exactly he feels. He was tempted to say yes but he reconsidered. He wanted Sawamura to stay, sure, for as long as Kazuya wants him to, and that might be for a lifetime. But this wasn't what he had in mind... this is different. Bigger. Deeper. Scarier.

It wasn't that he couldn't, but he didn't want to. Sawamura Eijun is the epitome of lovable--irresistible and alluring. But a romantic relationship is fragile, and once it's broken-- yes, you can try fixing it and sometimes you're met with success. But there are cases where it malfunctions more than it works. Then, once it's irreparable already, it becomes obstinate. Kazuya had learnt that the hard way, and Sawamura had made himself someone irreplaceable and too important to Kazuya that he was sure he would never be willing to put their current relationship vulnerable to that risk.

Or so he thought.

Sawamura figured Kazuya out before he himself could. In just a three-second stare, penetrating kazuya's thoughts, and understanding from just the way Kazuya breathed and what flashed through his eyes. Sawamura straightened, and smiled, not quite reaching his eyes. Not as brightly as the way it usually would when it's kazuya in front of him. But certainly strained, and sad, and trying... to be a passable smile coming for the ever blindingly shining Sawamura Eijun. And Kazuya felt his insides sunk, his heart clenched and his lungs squeezed out of oxygen--suddenly it's as if breathing had become impossible that moment. And air had taken in a form of Sawamura Eijun, leaving.