*** Furuya finds himself somehow taken in by the world of shoujo manga, that Sawamura is always reading. He’s not sure how it starts. Maybe it’s when one of the volumes falls out of Sawamura’s bag when he’s fishing for something else. Or maybe it was when he saw Sawamura walk around with his face in a book for the first time. But curiosity got the better of him, and now he’s reading the third volume of their newest obsession over the other pitcher’s shoulder.
It’s lunchtime, one of the few times during the day where there’s nothing in particular they’re supposed to be doing. Reading manga together has become a sort of habit, as has sitting this close. Furuya hardly even notices that his chest is pressed up against Sawamura’s shoulder as he tries to read the book.
As their time for lunch draws to a close, Sawamura closes the book and brushes himself as he stands up.
“They’re so stupid,” Sawamura says, shaking his head. “How can they not tell they’re in love with each other? They’re always together, even if they’re arguing, and there’s this energy that they have. I don’t know how to describe it–it’s ridiculous that they don’t know.”
He lets out a huff of annoyance before heading back to his own classroom. Furuya makes his own way back, Sawamura’s voice still lingering in his head, wondering what exactly the clues are and whether he’s missing any in his own life. It’s a funny thought, really. He’s hardly become used to having friends, and he’s never had a crush. His life is baseball, anyway, and who’s clues would he be missing? There’s no one who cares about him that way.
That evening he finds himself arguing with Sawamura. Or rather, Sawamura is accusing him of something, and Furuya is ignoring him. Instead, Furuya is thinking about the manga volume in Sawamura’s backpack. They’re not done with the volume yet, and he wants to know what happens next; he wants to know if they stop being stupid.
“How are you supposed to know if you like someone?” He asks, effectively cutting Sawamura off mid-sentence.
Brown eyes widen in shock, and then narrow in annoyance. “You always ignore me,” he accuses.
“You just know. You always think about them and the things they do. And things like their smile make you–you know–feel things,” Sawamura answers anyway. “Why? Do you think you like someone?”
Furuya shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about it too much. People do it, it happens. You’re a normal teenager, so you’ll probably get a crush or two.” “People might, but I’m not normal.”
Sawamura looks at him. “Still could happen.”
Two weeks later, Furuya is still thinking about how to tell. He knows that he thinks about Sawamura often, but he thinks about everyone on the team. If Sawamura really is, as he claims, Furuya’s rival, it would make sense to think about him a lot, wouldn’t it?
Furuya pulls his shoes on and zips up his jacket. He finds that running is a good time to think. When he runs, his body is occupied, but it leaves his mind free. As his feet pound across the grass of the field, he wonders when he started thinking about Sawamura when he thought about crushes. Maybe that means something. He doesn’t have time to think about it, because Sawamura comes running after him a moment later, yelling about how it’s not fair for Furuya to have a head start.
Another week later, and the protagonists of the manga have gotten over their stupidity. Sawamura nearly drops the book as his fits hits the air. “Finally,” he says.
Miyuki stops by to bother them a minute later. “If you keep giggling over manga like that, people might think you’re in love.”
“We’re rivals!” Sawamura retorts.
Once Miyuki is far out of sight, Sawamura opens the book again and glares down at the page in front of them.
“I’m sure other people have fallen in love reading shoujo manga together, but not us,” says Sawamura.
“Not us?” Furuya asks, wondering if his voice sounds a little empty. “We’re rivals,” Sawamura says again.
Furuya turns his attention back to the black-and-white page in front of them. Not us. Furuya wonders what would have happened if he was someone else. People have fallen in love before through reading manga and running together. People have fallen in love because of the stupid arguments they always have. People have fallen in love, but not us, Sawamura said. And he was right. Furuya bites his lip. The two of them didn’t fall, only he did.
FILL: Team Grandstand, G
Fandom: Diamond no Ace
Major tags: None
Other tags: Angst, idk what i'm writing
Word Count: 775
On AO3 here or below.
***
Furuya finds himself somehow taken in by the world of shoujo manga, that Sawamura is always reading. He’s not sure how it starts. Maybe it’s when one of the volumes falls out of Sawamura’s bag when he’s fishing for something else. Or maybe it was when he saw Sawamura walk around with his face in a book for the first time. But curiosity got the better of him, and now he’s reading the third volume of their newest obsession over the other pitcher’s shoulder.
It’s lunchtime, one of the few times during the day where there’s nothing in particular they’re supposed to be doing. Reading manga together has become a sort of habit, as has sitting this close. Furuya hardly even notices that his chest is pressed up against Sawamura’s shoulder as he tries to read the book.
As their time for lunch draws to a close, Sawamura closes the book and brushes himself as he stands up.
“They’re so stupid,” Sawamura says, shaking his head. “How can they not tell they’re in love with each other? They’re always together, even if they’re arguing, and there’s this energy that they have. I don’t know how to describe it–it’s ridiculous that they don’t know.”
He lets out a huff of annoyance before heading back to his own classroom. Furuya makes his own way back, Sawamura’s voice still lingering in his head, wondering what exactly the clues are and whether he’s missing any in his own life. It’s a funny thought, really. He’s hardly become used to having friends, and he’s never had a crush. His life is baseball, anyway, and who’s clues would he be missing? There’s no one who cares about him that way.
That evening he finds himself arguing with Sawamura. Or rather, Sawamura is accusing him of something, and Furuya is ignoring him. Instead, Furuya is thinking about the manga volume in Sawamura’s backpack. They’re not done with the volume yet, and he wants to know what happens next; he wants to know if they stop being stupid.
“How are you supposed to know if you like someone?” He asks, effectively cutting Sawamura off mid-sentence.
Brown eyes widen in shock, and then narrow in annoyance. “You always ignore me,” he accuses.
“You just know. You always think about them and the things they do. And things like their smile make you–you know–feel things,” Sawamura answers anyway. “Why? Do you think you like someone?”
Furuya shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about it too much. People do it, it happens. You’re a normal teenager, so you’ll probably get a crush or two.”
“People might, but I’m not normal.”
Sawamura looks at him. “Still could happen.”
Two weeks later, Furuya is still thinking about how to tell. He knows that he thinks about Sawamura often, but he thinks about everyone on the team. If Sawamura really is, as he claims, Furuya’s rival, it would make sense to think about him a lot, wouldn’t it?
Furuya pulls his shoes on and zips up his jacket. He finds that running is a good time to think. When he runs, his body is occupied, but it leaves his mind free. As his feet pound across the grass of the field, he wonders when he started thinking about Sawamura when he thought about crushes. Maybe that means something. He doesn’t have time to think about it, because Sawamura comes running after him a moment later, yelling about how it’s not fair for Furuya to have a head start.
Another week later, and the protagonists of the manga have gotten over their stupidity. Sawamura nearly drops the book as his fits hits the air. “Finally,” he says.
Miyuki stops by to bother them a minute later. “If you keep giggling over manga like that, people might think you’re in love.”
“We’re rivals!” Sawamura retorts.
Once Miyuki is far out of sight, Sawamura opens the book again and glares down at the page in front of them.
“I’m sure other people have fallen in love reading shoujo manga together, but not us,” says Sawamura.
“Not us?” Furuya asks, wondering if his voice sounds a little empty.
“We’re rivals,” Sawamura says again.
Furuya turns his attention back to the black-and-white page in front of them. Not us. Furuya wonders what would have happened if he was someone else. People have fallen in love before through reading manga and running together. People have fallen in love because of the stupid arguments they always have. People have fallen in love, but not us, Sawamura said. And he was right. Furuya bites his lip. The two of them didn’t fall, only he did.