referees: (Default)
SASO Referees ([personal profile] referees) wrote in [community profile] sportsanime2016-05-27 10:01 am
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Bonus Round 1: Memory

Bonus Round 1: Memory

Let's start our summer by looking at the past—things that happened in canon, or maybe in an AU, or maybe just as wishful thinking...

This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on June 9 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.

Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible. (There are changes from last year!)

  • Submit prompts by commenting to this post! You prompt should consist of one scenario beginning with the phrase "Remember when", along with any ship/ot3/etc. from our list of nominated fandoms.
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    • Visual example
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    • Place applicable major content tags and word count before the fill, where applicable
    • NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of your work in your comment.
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    • Visual example

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    These numbers apply to your team as a whole, not each individual teammate. Make as many prompts/fills as you want!

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mewyuki: (Default)


[personal profile] mewyuki 2016-05-27 01:36 am (UTC)(link)
Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, Daiya no A

Remember that time Miyuki was crying in the dugout at night and how Kuramochi was the lucky unlucky guy to find him?
Edited 2016-05-27 01:56 (UTC)
kitaiichis: (Default)

FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, T

[personal profile] kitaiichis 2016-06-05 03:48 pm (UTC)(link)
major content tags: none!

lighthouses, safe mooring
1961 words, [AO3]

let’s not make this a habit, is what miyuki said, back when this first started. it’s just, here’s the thing — youichi’s learning that there are a lot of things miyuki doesn’t mean to do that he does anyway, that he keeps doing, and it speaks volumes about the kind of person miyuki is because objectively speaking, youichi doesn’t actually know that much about miyuki. he’s trying to, though, and he’s trying to believe that sometimes, just trying is enough. and when it isn’t —


miyuki doesn’t turn to look at youichi, but his shoulders don’t come up to hide anything else, either. he stays where he is, sitting in the dugout, alone, with youichi. youichi leans against miyuki’s back when he sits down on the bench, both of them legs crossed, facing away from each other, listening. when miyuki speaks youichi feels it travel from the base of his neck down the arch of his back: “hey, yourself.”

it’s obvious miyuki’s been here awhile. that’s how this goes, miyuki coming down here after hours instead of even attempting to sleep, or study, with youichi following after he’s attempted either or both of the above, coming down to the same revelation every single time: there’s no point in delaying the inevitable.

still, miyuki plays along. it’s something he’s good at, and something youichi’s not too bad with, himself.

“can’t sleep?”

“bakamura’s sleeptalking again — i know a lost cause when i see one,” youichi answers, and this, at least, isn’t a lie.

miyuki snickers. “or hear one, apparently.”

“yeah, well.” youichi shrugs. then he wonders what that feels like for miyuki, if miyuki felt it at all. he must have; youichi still feels it, lingering in his shoulders alongside the rest of the day’s aches. miyuki’s head tilts back, their points of contact now threefold, head and shoulders and spine.

“can’t blame you. besides, it’s not that cold, yet.” this is a lie. youichi’s got a hoodie on, and even he admits the temperature’s starting to sink, and miyuki’s even worse with the cold than youichi, always stacking on layer after layer.

“says you,” youichi says, “but then again, they do say idiots can’t catch colds.”

miyuki laughs. “so what does that make you?”

“self-aware, probably.”

“nice answer.” miyuki pauses, then: “for you, anyway.”

“i’m leaving.” youichi doesn’t, though.

“i should probably get going soon, too.”

they stay in the dugout a while after that, trading banter like it’ll keep them warm, dancing around anything like apologies or sincerity with simpler subjects, the steady contact of miyuki leaning back against youichi, youichi letting himself do the same. youichi doesn’t point out when miyuki’s responses come fewer and farther apart, so miyuki doesn’t call youichi out for settling an arm around miyuki’s waist and one of miyuki’s over youichi’s shoulder, standing them both up together to head back to their dorms.

— and sometimes it’s enough, but when it isn’t, youichi knows he’ll still have this.

“we can play a game, if you like,” miyuki says, a month into their habit-that-isn’t, and youichi decides he may as well. he’s gotten pretty fast with learning miyuki’s rules. miyuki grins, and youichi finds himself mirroring it, just because.

“alright,” youichi replies. “i’ll bite.”

“excellent. so, i’ll start: i probably failed my last science test.”

youichi’s not sure what kind of game this is yet, but he knows how to answer miyuki’s not-question. “why am i not surprised?”

“i’m not done,” miyuki says. “i probably failed my last science test, so i’ll probably have to take the remedial this saturday, which means…” ah. there’s a practice match happening this weekend.

“i can’t believe you’re making me captain for a day again.”

miyuki’s grin seeps into his voice. “what’s this? confident you’re not gonna be joining me?”

“is that the end of your turn?” youichi says, and miyuki’s eyes flash with something, something — youichi’s not sure what it was, or is, but it’s something, which means youichi’s probably worked out what game miyuki’s playing at.

“clever save,” miyuki sing-songs, “but still a save. we’ll get back to this later. yeah, i’m done.”

youichi nods. “alright. then, my turn: i’m getting a definite pass for art this term.”

miyuki nods. obviously. then he waits, perhaps sensing youichi isn’t quite done yet, either. he’s right: “here’s the thing,” youichi says. “i’m playing like i don’t know that, yet, ‘cause even if i know i’m passing, i know zono definitely won’t be.” he gives miyuki a look — you know — and miyuki sighs, because he does.

“it’s looking pretty bleak,” miyuki agrees, “when my portrait starts looking like a paradigm for creative practice in comparison.”

youichi howls out a laugh, presses his fist to his mouth to control it enough to hear miyuki’s turn. and that’s what they do for a while, trade admissions one after the other, a kind of truth or dare, just without the dare. or maybe being truthful is the dare, or even trusting that the other’s being truthful in the first place, in which case how very like miyuki to not clarify the game completely, intentionally leaving himself a loophole in case youichi’s still missing some hidden clause, a line of fineprint.

“i used to skip out on eating three bowls of rice by shoving it onto someone else’s bowl when they’re not looking.”

“what do you mean used to. you still do, i saw you do it like, two mornings ago.”

“damn. must be losing my touch, then.”

“hyaha! did you ever have it to start? by the way, i finally started texting wakana from my own phone a few weeks ago.”

“impressive. also, pathetic — i thought you started doing that ages ago. i’ve never texted a girl in my life.”

“equally pathetic. but understandable — you take goddamn forever to reply. check your phone more often.”

“i could,” miyuki allows, “but i’d rather not, so. too bad for you, ku-ra-mo-chi.” then he laughs, and youichi kicks at miyuki’s foot. their turns are slowly, slowly getting more and more personal, if you can count things youichi could probably already guess about miyuki as personal. also, miyuki’s turns never stray too far from the topic of youichi’s own, either, adaptation positioned as a form of participation.

which is why, even though it’s not the only reason, youichi says on his next turn: “i’ve never been this blatantly honest with anyone in my life.”

miyuki’s quiet for a while. youichi almost thinks maybe he went too fast, sprinted too far ahead for miyuki to humour him with another answer, another try, when miyuki finally starts talking again.

“that’s hard to believe,” miyuki says, “but i believe it.”

i believe you. and he doesn’t volunteer anything further than that for the night, but youichi thinks his quiet is an admission in and of itself: i believe you, because i’m the same. youichi swallows, walks back to the dorms with his hands stuffed into his pockets because miyuki’s awake enough to stand by himself, this time.

this thing — this game he’s playing with miyuki, it’s not the kind of game with clear-cut winners or losers, but. youichi’s willing to concede that he’s lost anyway. he’s lost anyway, because he’s willing to admit that even if miyuki’s playing, he isn’t.

youichi’s willing to confess, even if nobody else is around to hear, that maybe he never was.

youichi almost doesn’t head to the dugout that night, huddled in a jacket over his usual hoodie even in his dorm. and if youichi’s feeling the chill, then miyuki definitely is, which means he’ll stay in his room where kimura, at least, can see where he is. right? ha, youichi huffs, because that’s totally happening. he’s pulling on his shoes and heading outside before he finishes the thought, ignoring sawamura’s squawked “get the door, kuramochi-senpai, what kind of soulless —.”

there isn’t really a reason to run to the dugout, unless he wants someone to notice him, which he doesn’t — or at least, not by anyone who might see him as he dashes past the dorm to the fields — but youichi runs anyway. it gives a sense of urgency that, conversely, soothes youichi because then it’s like he’s not just going out on a limb for no justifiable reason.

he stops still as soon as he reaches the dugout, though, the part of him still capable of being terrible and blunt and honest thinking it’s times like these it’d be nice to be wrong.

because miyuki is here, and alone, and crying, and youichi can’t decide which of the three is the worst thing about this, hates that any of them, let alone all three, are happening at all. he doesn’t hate that he’s here to see it, though, because what would happen to miyuki if he wasn’t? absolutely nothing, and the ache of it pushes youichi to stand before miyuki, not sitting next to him, but not crouching to see his face, either.

it’s not like miyuki’s trying to hide it, though. no matter what miyuki says, his body’s never let itself lie, and for that youichi’s grateful. miyuki’s a quiet crier, slow-running tears not nearly as much of a give away as the way miyuki tries to breathe normally through it all, tries and fails before trying to hide that he failed. youichi wants to swipe his thumb across the tear tracks, press miyuki’s head against his stomach and just stay, say it’s okay to cry or hey, miyuki, hey now or nothing at all.

he doesn’t end up doing any of these things, though, because miyuki moves first: removing his glasses, miyuki tucks them into the collar of his shirt before looking up at youichi. “kura,” he says, low but his voice cracks on the second syllable anyway. “kura, i never did finish my turn, back then.”

“what’re you saying,” youichi says but he’s getting down on his knees, listening as he rests both hands on miyuki’s shoulders. they’re trembling.

“back then,” miyuki says. “i never told you, but…” he mouths the rest of the words: i’ve never… been this honest with anyone, either.

and youichi pulls miyuki to him, hugs him properly and doesn’t give a damn about the way the skin on his neck slowly dampens when miyuki tucks his head there. “you idiot,” he murmurs, rough and quiet and so, so tender, “you idiot, i know, i already know.” and miyuki does know, because he laughs into youichi’s shoulder, an awful sound but youichi’s glad for it, focusing on the way miyuki’s voice grows clearer with every syllable as he starts talking, spilling out everything youichi’s tried to read between the lines and come up blank on, speaks long enough for his hands to curl around youichi, too.

long enough that, by the time he tapers off into stillness, youichi takes miyuki’s hands, cold but steady, into his own, holding them in the dark of the dugout until they’re warm again. “i know,” youichi repeats, because it feels important that miyuki doesn’t just know, that miyuki hears it enough for all the times when he didn’t, that miyuki hears it enough to believe in it whenever he needs to hear it from this point on. “miyuki. i know.”

then, cradled hands still between them, miyuki leans into youichi, giving in, letting youichi in. “okay,” miyuki says. “kuramochi, i — okay.”

and it feels like it is; or, at the very least, that it will be, and that feels like it’s enough, too.

i think about boats, how they’re powerful but so delicate compared to the fickle sea.

i think about lighthouses, about safe mooring and how easy it is to crash. i think about love and

what i deserve and how i’m trying to accept everything the universe is giving me.


kazuyas: (Default)

Re: FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, T

[personal profile] kazuyas 2016-06-06 01:00 am (UTC)(link)
literally what the fuck andrea
kitaiichis: (Default)

Re: FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, T

[personal profile] kitaiichis 2016-06-06 02:14 pm (UTC)(link)
hello to you too, em (*^▽^)/
mewyuki: (Default)

Re: FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, T

[personal profile] mewyuki 2016-06-28 05:41 am (UTC)(link)
Gawd... I know I'm responding nearly a month later and I'm really really sorry and even if it's late, I still wanted to let you know that it's been a while since I've been so emotional over a fic jfc.

The way you write kuramiyu is absolutely perfect. The characterization is spot on and honestly, I wasn't sure where you were going with the truth/dare game initially but the end... Kuramochi and Miyuki's confession to each other. I....

It's just like them to play it off thru a game, ya know? Because if all else fails, they can just laugh it off and cover it up and "hey, it's just a game ya know?" It's perfectly kuramiyu. It's the perfect setup.

And in the end, when Miyuki finally responds to Kuramochi's confession and he doesn't have the courage to say it out loud, simply mouths it out instead, boy I was in pain but it's just like him. Always guarded and cautious.

I love this fic. I love it so damn much. It's just so beautiful. Thank you so much for the fill, thank you for reminding me why I love kuramiyu so much. <3