662 words (written in second person because I couldn't control myself haha)
Sometimes, you think you can categorize your life into two phases: During Baseball and After Baseball, pre-injury and post-injury.
(maybe an equally accurate division would be pre-Fukutomi and post-Fukutomi, you realize later.)
Nothing good can come after. It can’t, you initially think when it’s first facing you, a gaping and open wound where anger and hopelessness continuously fester, when you’re not sure what to do or where you should even begin. You feel alone and angry, like everything is a weight to hold you down. Like a part of you had been taken—forcibly ripped away.
But every conviction, every surefire and negative thought you had held in the immediate aftermath is soon proven wrong. They’re all torn away, broken down, when you meet Fukutomi.
You don’t really believe in silly ideas like fate and destiny, will outright dismiss them, especially when Toudou goes on and on about their existence, but sometimes you think that meeting Fukutomi on that day was an answer. That it was some sort of form of fate.
(Not that you’d ever admit that, though.)
All of the anger and uncertainty you feel, bottled up and ready to burst, does not disappear immediately. It’s definitely not some cliché story like that at all. It takes time, but Fukutomi gives you a push, gives you a newfound desire to want something. To fight. To move forward again.
Losing to him in that race on the first day you meet is kind of like a wake-up call. That’s what sparks your curiosity, is what suddenly has you doing things you’d never expected of yourself before.
For a moment, it makes you forget the gaping wound losing baseball left behind.
At first, you really don’t understand anything about Fukutomi. You don’t understand why he cares, why he bothers, why he welcomes your presence. You don’t even really understand why you’re drawn to him, why you want to follow him.
In the end, you’re glad you do, though. Fukutomi gives you something to reach for. Actually, he may be something to reach for too. He’s someone you can follow, even if that’s a thought you don’t really like admitting to initially.
(Don’t look back, move forward.)
They’re words you keep with you, ones you follow just like you do Fukutomi. Ones that push you to the top. You’re able to reach places you never thought you could. You’re able to push past everything you thought was holding you down in the first place.
You’re there. You’re strong. Happy. Grateful. Fukutomi lights a fire in you that day you met, rekindles once dying flames, and now they’re stronger than ever. They will not go out.
You have a stronger faith in yourself, a stronger sense of purpose. You’ve found your place when you didn’t think you had one anymore.
And you’re not alone. Not anymore. You have teammates, friends—people you never want to let go of.
(It makes you smile thinking about it, when you decide that the After Baseball phase didn’t turn out nearly as bad as you’d initially expected… that it actually turned out pretty well.)
And then there’s Fukutomi—who you weren’t really sure about, yet followed anyway, who you don’t think you’d ever stop following. Even if it was unintentional, Fukutomi is the catalyst that drove you to the point you’re at now, the one who slowly helped mend the once large and gaping hole in your life, stitch by stitch.
You’ll never forget that. He’ll always be someone you reach for, someone you respect, someone you love.
When Fukutomi looks at you, stands beside you, holds onto you, you know that everything is worth it. That you’ve found someone who loves and cares for you, who will continue to hold onto you and not leave.
The way you stand beside and support each other, pull each other forward makes you think that maybe you’ve grown into someone worth following too,
FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G
662 words (written in second person because I couldn't control myself haha)
Sometimes, you think you can categorize your life into two phases: During Baseball and After Baseball, pre-injury and post-injury.
(maybe an equally accurate division would be pre-Fukutomi and post-Fukutomi, you realize later.)
Nothing good can come after. It can’t, you initially think when it’s first facing you, a gaping and open wound where anger and hopelessness continuously fester, when you’re not sure what to do or where you should even begin. You feel alone and angry, like everything is a weight to hold you down. Like a part of you had been taken—forcibly ripped away.
But every conviction, every surefire and negative thought you had held in the immediate aftermath is soon proven wrong. They’re all torn away, broken down, when you meet Fukutomi.
You don’t really believe in silly ideas like fate and destiny, will outright dismiss them, especially when Toudou goes on and on about their existence, but sometimes you think that meeting Fukutomi on that day was an answer. That it was some sort of form of fate.
(Not that you’d ever admit that, though.)
All of the anger and uncertainty you feel, bottled up and ready to burst, does not disappear immediately. It’s definitely not some cliché story like that at all. It takes time, but Fukutomi gives you a push, gives you a newfound desire to want something. To fight. To move forward again.
Losing to him in that race on the first day you meet is kind of like a wake-up call. That’s what sparks your curiosity, is what suddenly has you doing things you’d never expected of yourself before.
For a moment, it makes you forget the gaping wound losing baseball left behind.
At first, you really don’t understand anything about Fukutomi. You don’t understand why he cares, why he bothers, why he welcomes your presence. You don’t even really understand why you’re drawn to him, why you want to follow him.
In the end, you’re glad you do, though. Fukutomi gives you something to reach for. Actually, he may be something to reach for too. He’s someone you can follow, even if that’s a thought you don’t really like admitting to initially.
(Don’t look back,
move forward.)
They’re words you keep with you, ones you follow just like you do Fukutomi. Ones that push you to the top.
You’re able to reach places you never thought you could. You’re able to push past everything you thought was holding you down in the first place.
You’re there. You’re strong. Happy. Grateful. Fukutomi lights a fire in you that day you met, rekindles once dying flames, and now they’re stronger than ever. They will not go out.
You have a stronger faith in yourself, a stronger sense of purpose. You’ve found your place when you didn’t think you had one anymore.
And you’re not alone. Not anymore. You have teammates, friends—people you never want to let go of.
(It makes you smile thinking about it, when you decide that the After Baseball phase didn’t turn out nearly as bad as you’d initially expected… that it actually turned out pretty well.)
And then there’s Fukutomi—who you weren’t really sure about, yet followed anyway, who you don’t think you’d ever stop following. Even if it was unintentional, Fukutomi is the catalyst that drove you to the point you’re at now, the one who slowly helped mend the once large and gaping hole in your life, stitch by stitch.
You’ll never forget that. He’ll always be someone you reach for, someone you respect, someone you love.
When Fukutomi looks at you, stands beside you, holds onto you, you know that everything is worth it. That you’ve found someone who loves and cares for you, who will continue to hold onto you and not leave.
The way you stand beside and support each other, pull each other forward makes you think that maybe you’ve grown into someone worth following too,
that you can always move forward. Together.