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People always say that the world is vast and you’ll never know what’s out there if you don’t go out and explore it. That you’re missing out by staying where you’ve always been even if you seem happy to be there.
Wakana never really understands what those people are talking about until the day after Eijun comes back from visiting Seidou in Tokyo.
He looks lost and confused as if he has his answer but is too afraid of giving it a voice. And when he eventually figures it out and runs to her first to tell her he’s going to Tokyo, Wakana can only smile and wish him luck, even if she doesn’t fully understand what Tokyo has that Nagano doesn’t.
(She knows deep down the answer, knows about fancy facilities from her own research, knows about smirking catchers from the articles, and knows about words etched on skin that point away from their home.)
So she sees him off with all their childhood friends and starts a new chapter without Eijun crashing through it. A chapter without knowing when Eijun’s hurting, when he’s struggling, when he’s happy, when he’s growing.
Her only consolation is the knowing looks they all exchange whenever they go out and save more seats than they need, all feeling the emptiness Eijun leaves in his wake.
But time passes, and they all find their footing, learning their own limits and how to grow themselves, in and outside of baseball. They read all they can about Eijun’s progress, his texts sparse and few between, but enough to know he’s been working hard.
And then it’s silent for two months, Wakana feeling at the end of her rope many times before she gets a single message apologizing for the radio silence. It’s just such a relief to even hear back that she only calls to scold him once, quickly establishing new rules that someone better hear from him at least once every two weeks to not cause any more panic.
The fact that Eijun agrees so easily concerns her, but Wakana is too busy celebrating the win to think too hard about it.
(The high of him visiting during winter break after Seidou qualifies for spring nationals also blinds her for the most part to the quiet that now follows him when he’s alone.
But that last night before he leaves finds them outside with only the stars as their witness to the tears and screams of almost loss, and Wakana wishes she could erase the memory of the sun being snuffed even briefly as much as she carves that pain into her heart, knowing now even the brightest people can be dimmed.
Her shirt is damp when she returns home, her eyes puffy in response to her oldest friend sounding so broken. She doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that Eijun is more fragile than she believed, but she remembers the gold that shined with whispered promises to do better, to not falter, and she wonders where he’s able to pull that much willpower from.
She wonders if it’s the same place he pulled the courage to leave Nagano.)
Eijun texts more after that, Wakana grateful for every update that is hopeful and determined and frustrated. It doesn’t erase Eijun being gone, or the worry she now feels when he has bad days, but it’s something to hold onto and a way to help, even if it’s only by listening.
And Wakana listens to every complaint and loss as much as every cheer and triumph, she listens and wonders about Tokyo, what it’s like and what it holds. She wonders if maybe there’s something there for her too as her second year begins and teachers tell them to start thinking of their futures and what that means.
She never expected to leave Nagano, content with everything here, but she also never expected Eijun to leave and find his place somewhere else.
The nights she wonders most, Wakana traces the words along her shoulder, thinking up all the ways she could hear them.
Hey, nice to meet you, Aotsuki! I hope you can keep up, we have a lot of work to do to grab the championship this year.
Wakana doesn’t seriously consider college outside of Nagano until she gets the text from Eijun that he’s met his soulmate.
It’s the simplest text ever, so she calls him immediately to grill him about all the details, because what do you mean you met your soulmate, you can’t leave me hanging with just that Eijun!
Through much badgering she finds out Eijun’s soulmate is the ace pitcher from a rival team and that he doesn’t seem to understand boundaries since he hounded him right after Seidou lost to them in the spring tournament. With a bit more weedling, because she knows Eijun, has since they were toddlers, she finds out they have a date (it’s not a date Wakana!) set up so they can talk. What she gets from his voice is that he’s nervous and worried about the meeting, even if he’d never admit to feeling that way because he doesn’t like her worrying over him.
Really, he should know that no amount of distance and reassurance will ever get her to stop worrying over her childhood best friend. He’s stuck with her, so Wakana does what she’s always done best.
She calls him an idiot and gets him back to solid ground after he shouts all his worries away.
It’s still hard, listening to Eijun talk about his soulmate, with all his hopes and worries, because she isn’t there to see it happen. They’ve experienced so much together, and now it’s even more clear that their lives are going in two very different directions. She knows that isn’t a bad thing, and that it had to happen eventually, but Wakana can’t help feeling left behind by each new bit of news she gets from Eijun.
But how could she forget that this is Eijun, the boy that refuses to leave anyone behind?
“We should video chat after I meet him! I know I’ll need to scream about it even if it does go well.”
“You want to scream at me? What about your teammates?” The people that are actually around you.
“I’m kind of not telling them yet? I want to, but I’m nervous how they’ll react. But also, we’ve always talked about meeting our soulmates, why wouldn’t I tell you all about it?”
It’s the simplest reminder, but it’s all Wakana needs to remember that no matter how far away Eijun might fly to, he’ll always be within reach because he never forgets anyone important to him. If anything, he’s always wishing he could take everyone along with him, the shining optimist that he is.
It makes something within her ache and melt at the same time.
“Heh, you’re right. So you better tell me all about it afterward okay? No skipping out on any details!”
“But what if we kiss!?”
“Are you planning on kissing him so soon?”
“No! We just met! But what if we do?”
“Then you just mention it happened and any extra details about it go in the TMI category. Because I love you, but not that much.”
“Hey!”
Their easy bickering eases her, and she’s content to listen to him prattle on with other anecdotes of his days while they catch up on everything else, the topic of soulmates left behind for another day.
She tries very hard not to rub her shoulder right by her soulmark.
The year goes by blindingly fast, from Wakana keeping her grades up, to performing her club duties, to doing more research into schools far from Nagano, until it’s a week before winter break when Eijun comes home.
And not just Eijun, but also his soulmate, who’s excited to meet them after all of Eijun’s stories about them.
Wakana knows a lot more about Amahisa now than in the beginning, from the sheer amount of gushing Eijun has done, and from her own research of articles about his games.
Amahisa’s considered a genius pitcher, if a bit inconsistent, though he’s more stable now than before. He’s a draft pick, now officially drafted to the Chiba Lotte Marines. His repertoire of pitches is pretty impressive, even if she firmly thinks no one can top Eijun’s insane amount. He seems a bit too cocky from the few interviews she’s found of him, but she’s stopped expecting any pitcher not to be, and can see the kid that’s earnest in his plays that Eijun has described to her.
However nothing he’s told her could prepare Wakana for the hurricane that is Amahisa Kousei.
He’s not a raging storm like Eijun can be, but he comes in all bravado to hide his obvious nerves, only to settle into himself the moment Eijun’s mother hauls him into a bear hug. Wakana watches from the hallway the way Amahisa’s polite smile becomes blinding, easily returning the hug with cheer, Eijun laughing in bright joy. Amahisa gets some ribbing from Eijun, who apparently knew everything would be okay, just to get teased about his own meeting of Amahisa’s parents, the blustering denial quiet compared to the chuckles that fill the air.
Wakana knew from Eijun’s soulmark that his soulmate would be a chatterbox like him, the lines of text an obvious indicator, but to see and hear someone keep pace with Eijun’s enthusiasm, and even go farther at times, leaves her feeling lighter than she expected.
(The few nights Eijun allows her to see his tears and frustration at the bullies who poke fun at his noise, throwing words like knives, knowing it would cut him deeper than his bright disposition showed any of them, stay in her mind too often.
The way he would hold his arm tightly, as if he could will his soulmate to show up faster to have that reassurance in his life.
She can’t forget, won’t let herself forget.)
She’s not supposed to be there, she didn’t plan to meet Amahisa that day. Wakana’s only dropping off some cake from her mother to welcome Eijun back when they get there early, but she can’t be mad when she gets to see how much Amahisa cares about her best friend with her own eyes that much sooner.
Because Amahisa isn’t subtle, at all, but anyone can tell that he isn’t trying to be, openly showing his affection for Eijun with his actions and words so easily, like breathing.
And Eijun.
Eijun just soaks it up with bright eyes and a dopey grin, almost hanging off Amahisa with how close he stays by his side. He all but drags him to Wakana, proudly showing him off to her, and Amahisa looks vaguely nervous for a bit, probably at the prospect of meeting Eijun’s oldest friend.
Good. She may be thankful he brought out this glowing version of Eijun, but she likes knowing she can possibly scare him if she needs to.
But soon he’s all smiles and questions, mainly about Eijun as a child, but there are plenty thrown in about her and their friends, and he looks so genuine she can’t help answering back just as enthusiastically. Before they can get too into the conversation, they’re all reminded they’re still in the entrance and that Wakana has to get home for dinner.
The boys both look apologetic and wish Wakana a good night before they’re moving out of the way for her to leave. They both take each other’s bags, playfully glaring that they both had the same idea to be sweet, loudly making a fuss as they take them upstairs. It’s disgustingly adorable and domestic, and Wakana can feel her teeth rotting where she stands.
As she’s leaving Wakana recalls all the gushing Eijun’s done over Amahisa the last several months, but one particular conversation sticks out to her as she walks down the snowy path to her house.
“He makes me feel like I’m worth it, like I’m someone worth loving.”
“Of course you’re worth loving Eijun!”
“I know, I mean, he just! He has a way of looking at me and I know that, that he loves me. That I can be my loud sappy self and he’ll just love it even more! And I’m not saying you don’t all care about me, or don’t make me feel loved, it’s just, with him it feels… different.”
“It’s okay Eijun, I think I get it.”
She hadn’t, not at all, but Eijun had sounded so stressed over Wakana understanding that she just said she did so he wouldn’t be upset.
After seeing them together for the first time, she thinks she finally does.
Eijun spends the next day with his family, but Wakana gets plenty of updates via all the photos sent to her throughout the day. They range from simple ones of his family or Amahisa posing in a selfie with him to ones of Amahisa around the farm being confused but earnest about helping out. She can admit to herself that those are rather cute, Amahisa a true city boy through and through, but he seems determined to prove himself, even with there being little to do during the cold winter.
But the one that makes her pause the most is one of them all around the table during dinner.
No one notices Eijun taking the picture it seems as they’re all chatting around the table. Eijun’s dad is gesturing for a wild story, probably the one about the tractor becoming a nest for some birds that one spring if his arms and his wife’s exasperated face are any indicators. His grandfather is leaning towards Amahisa, a sly look on his face as he talks to him, while the older boy is wide eyed in excitement, a grin firmly in place.
They all look happy, easily welcoming Amahisa into the fold as one of their own.
She knows from Eijun that Amahisa was worried about meeting his family, and she gets it because family means everything to Eijun. But that picture shows he has nothing to worry about, because he might as well be a Sawamura now. They’re going to keep him even if he and Eijun break up.
Which she highly doubts they will because seriously, she’s only been in their collective presence for twenty minutes and they were clearly gone for each other.
Wakana gets a few more pictures of everyone laughing, one of Amahisa noticing the camera, and finally of everyone posing together over dessert, Eijun dragged into the frame by his mother on the side. It’s a cute picture, and knowing the Sawamuras there’ll be a framed version of this photo somewhere in the house soon enough.
She can even picture the exact spot it’ll go, the wall by the front where all of the photos of Eijun growing up go, right next to one of his fellow yearmates on the Seidou baseball team. It’ll fit right in with the current collage of the ever growing photos of his highschool chapter, his parents wanting to hold onto the bits and pieces of a life they don’t get to see unfold right in front of them anymore.
She sends back a few cheerful emojis before going to sleep.
Spending more time with Amahisa makes Wakana revise her initial impression of him, the afternoon everyone spends catching up with Eijun giving her more insight into the older boy.
To start, he’s clingy, but surprisingly not in an annoying way, easily letting Eijun have the space to talk with his friends, while keeping their hands intertwined as he scrolls through his phone when he isn’t in the conversation. And it’s not even that he’s ignoring everyone, but the group seems more interested in monopolizing Eijun than getting to know his soulmate at the moment. The few times he is acknowledged, Amahisa pulls Eijun just a tad closer as he answers, a bright grin on his face.
It’s a genuine smile but there’s definitely an edge to it that leaves Eijun exasperated instead of bothered, her friend bumping their shoulders before he gets right back to the topic at hand.
He’s also a huge flirt, but only with Eijun. Which is good, great even, she’s glad her best friend’s soulmate adores him, but the sheer amount of times Amahisa tries to make Eijun blush with teasing compliments is kind of astounding, and right in front of them without an ounce of shame. And it’s not even limited to verbal flirting with how many times Amahisa plays with Eijun’s hands and hair, gently moving the strands with such a sickening sweet look that Wakana can feel those cavities forming again.
It’s honestly weird seeing Eijun flirt back, but seeing Amahisa go speechless at times is oddly satisfying for the two seconds of peace it gives them all.
But what stands out the most to Wakana, and really all of them, is how much Amahisa hypes up Eijun. He gushes over Eijun’s pitches, his improving batting, and even lets it slip that Eijun’s being eyed by some big teams already, which causes all of them to shout over not being told, to Eijun’s chagrin.
Amahisa loves loudly and proudly, and perfectly for Eijun.
It doesn’t hit her until later why he could be acting that way when they’re walking to the baseball fields and the two are behind everyone arm in arm, heads bent together, Eijun blushing up to his ears as Amahisa has a self satisfied smirk on his lips.
This is the most time they’ve both spent together in all the months knowing each other.
Wakana knows it’s been hard on Eijun trying to find the time with baseball and school to see his soulmate, knows that neither has ever held it against the other with how fanatical they both are over the sport, knows that even if they’ve both gotten used to the distance that nothing will beat being physically together.
She understands, on some level, the pain of being separated from someone you care about. Her relationship with Eijun is vastly different than the one Amahisa has with him, but she still feels the pain of her best friend, her brother, not being in her everyday life. Wakana will still have days she goes to tell him some dumb joke, only to realize he’s not there.
But she also has years of memories and experiences and time in Eijun’s presence that Amahisa doesn’t.
So while she hasn’t felt that strongly about anyone, she understands why it hurts Eijun, hurts both of them, and will for years as both of them continue to pursue their dreams of baseball at a higher level with differing paths.
And seeing them together now, with Eijun readying to go to spring nationals once again and Amahisa readying to enter the major leagues, she can see the desperation in their eyes, in their clinging hands. Wakana sees two boys who care about each other enough to let the other go, but wish desperately they didn’t have to.
She thinks she can let Amahisa’s clinginess slide in the wake of that much devotion.
Wakana’s shoulder feels colder than the frigid air.
Despite how much time she spends with Amahisa, she doesn’t really get him alone until there are only two days left in their trip, everyone else inside and screeching over the newest crazy story Eijun tells his family.
He’s surprisingly alone on the Sawamuras’ porch, a fluffy blanket wrapped around him as he gazes out over their farm. He seems content, if a little cold still if the shivers she can see say anything. With a quick snag of a few blankets, she decides to join him, plopping next to him with one of the blankets held out in her hand.
“Here, you look like a sad puppy with all your quaking.”
That gets her a playful glare, even as Amahisa says his thanks, the new addition finally stopping his shivers. He sighs, eyes slipping close as he buries his face into the soft fabric. “I thought Tokyo got cold, but it really has nothing on the countryside!”
“Didn’t Eijun warn you about the cold?”
“Oh he did, so don’t tell him I was a ‘sad puppy’, he’ll never let me hear the end of it!” Amahisa laughs, a soft fondness in his eyes at the mere mention of Eijun.
It’s too sweet, and Wakana is prepared to send them both her dentist bills from now on.
“So how are you liking Nagano really? I bet it’s pretty different from Tokyo besides the weather.”
“Ha, that’s an understatement!” Amahisa turns his head to look at Wakana more clearly, and she’s caught off guard by the soft yet vulnerable look in his eyes. “I was really nervous about coming to visit, but being here, seeing where Eijun grew up? It’s no wonder he’s as amazing as he is.”
Wakana wants to unpack that statement and compare notes. She wants to know if when Amahisa calls Eijun amazing, he does so with the full knowledge of how wonderful her best friend truly is and if he knows how close he was to never meeting him.
Because if Eijun had given up last fall… she doesn’t like to think about that honestly.
“He really is amazing isn’t he? But don’t tell him I said that or I’ll never hear the end of it!” She gets a snort for her words, a bright grin accompanying it. “But really? How are you enjoying everything?”
“Hmm, I like the fresh air, and how green everything is. I’ve never really been a nature person, but there’s something about here that makes it seem almost...magical maybe? Or maybe that’s just all of Eijun’s stories making it feel like that.” His grin gentles, but his eyes melt, making them look like honey. Wakana suddenly understands all the waxing Eijun has done over Amahisa’s eyes if they always look like that when he just thinks about his soulmate.
“Eijun’s always looking on the bright side of things, but he does love it here a lot. It’s kind of why we were surprised he went to school in Tokyo, despite us telling him he should.”
“...Why did you tell him to come to Tokyo? You all sound so close.”
“He… he always kind of shined too bright, to just stay in this town. And we all knew if he only had the chance he could do so much, but we also knew that he’s too loyal, too good. He would never have left if we never said anything, if we never told him to try. So we told him he should do it, that of course he was going to Tokyo, why wouldn’t he? And…” Wakana can still picture Eijun’s face when they told him to leave, to spread his wings and fly far away. He had looked so betrayed, so hurt, before they piled on more compliments and beliefs on him, to make him take a leap of faith.
To be their hero.
His face during video chat check-ins shined so bright it made all the pain of breaking Eijun’s heart worth it.
(Even when their own broke with each smile without them, each story they weren’t a part of, and new dreams built without them being a factor. It didn’t matter that Eijun wanted to make it to nationals for them also, it just hurt it wouldn’t be with them.)
“And…?”
“And his soulmark always led to baseball. And I don’t know how or why, but I felt like if he didn’t take this opportunity, he wouldn’t meet you, and I know that more than anything he’s been waiting a long time to meet whoever was at the other end of those words. But he was prepared to walk away from that possibility for us, and we, I, couldn’t let him do that.”
Wakana meets Amahisa’s eyes to find them wide with wonder, and plenty of awe, as if what she just told him was some grand revelation instead of what friends should do for each other, even if it’s hard.
She wonders briefly what kind of friends Amahisa has had in the past if something so simple to her would seem so earth shattering to him.
“So you let him go, just like that?”
This time there isn’t an ounce of hesitation when she answers him back, “Just like that.”
A pause. “I don’t think I could have been strong enough to do what you did Aotsuki.”
Wakana thinks of hidden tears, of being a strong pillar, a leader to them all as kids, and all the secrets she discovered after the fact from Eijun while growing up and even today. She thinks no matter how many years they add to their friendship, Eijun will always want to protect and put them all first, even to the detriment of himself.
She thinks of quiet phone calls, with only half the story, but enough to parse together a personal hell, of her best friend suffering without her to help him because he could never be a burden to them, even when in reality that couldn’t be further from the truth.
She thinks of Eijun’s favorite bugs being chased away because she was scared of them for a time, of his favorite creek being avoided because Nobu still couldn’t swim yet, of bullies being fought even when it marked Eijun’s record.
Of an entire team and umpire being slapped because they didn’t respect their team’s loss, his chances for high school fading with each one given.
Wakana doesn’t think they’ve been nearly as strong as they should’ve been for Eijun.
“I hope you never have to be.”
Eijun finds them huddled moments later, and after some cajoling manages to kick Wakana back into the house to be with Amahisa alone. She catches a nervous smile from him as he slides the door closed, but before she can question him, it’s gone and she’s alone in the hallway.
She debates listening in because Eijun’s basically her brother and there is no privacy in the Sawamura household, but something holds her back. Slowly stepping back, the quiet murmur of the two boys on the porch fades out, replaced by the loud chatter of the Sawamuras by the tv.
Later, when they return from outside, after the adults have all gone to bed, and she’s halfway up the stairs to crawl into the guest room herself, Wakana catches the two of them quietly making their way across the living room. They both have red-rimmed eyes, but their hands are locked tightly together. It looks like they’re about to follow her up, which makes her hurry up the steps quietly to not be spotted, when Amahisa stops by the base of the stairs, suddenly turning and gathering Eijun in his arms, who grips back just as desperately. The words they say next are muffled, but they still manage to carry in the silence.
“I’m okay now Kousei-senpai, I promise.”
“I know, I just. I just need to hold you, Eijun, so please.”
“Okay senpai.”
They stand there unmoving, long enough for Wakana to debate just slipping down the hall to her room, when Amahisa speaks again, his voice cracking from unshed tears.
“You’re so much stronger than anyone knows Eijun, and I, I almost didn’t meet you, and I can’t. I can’t think about that too much because I love you too much to picture a world where I never meet you.”
“I think we would have still met Kousei-senpai! It just would have taken a little longer I think.”
“Well I’m glad I met you when I did, and I’m going to be thankful every day that you were stronger than what anyone else thought, so I was able to.”
“I think a stronger person wouldn’t have failed as badly as I did.”
“Hey, hey, no, that is not true Eijun. What happened to you wasn’t your fault, no listen to me, it wasn’t, okay? That, that’s a career ending injury, and it can happen to anyone, but not everyone can move past such a mental block and recover. But you did, and Eijun, I am so damn proud of you.”
Muffled sobs break through, followed by gentle shushing, and Wakana knows she needs to leave, not being able to bear anymore intruding. Stealthily, she makes her way the rest of the way to the guest room, even avoiding the creaky board by the bathroom to escape unseen and unheard. Minutes later she hears them pass her room to get to Eijun’s, their voices muffled by the door too much to hear what they’re saying, but she thinks it’s for the best.
She already knows too much, but now she also knows with absolute certainty that she can trust Amahisa with Eijun. That if things get too much for him or if his world is breaking again, he won’t be alone and he’ll be stronger for it.
And that, more than anything else she’s seen this week, from their sappy heart eyes to their easy flirty banter to how comfortably they seem to fit together, leaves her lighter than all the reassurances in the world.
The next morning finds Wakana lacing up her sneakers after a big breakfast, Eijun’s mom insisting on feeding her before she sends her home. Wakana never minds, missing being able to eat with Eijun and his family whenever she feels like it, though they always invite her even when Eijun is still in Tokyo.
And she’s thankful for that, that they still want her around even if what connects them isn’t around, to know they still see her like a daughter even though all the teasing of her and Eijun marrying when they’re older have finally died away.
(She’s really glad for that last one as she watches Amahisa shamelessly wrap around Eijun as they eat, her friend not even batting an eye at his soulmate, though a tiny smile is permanently fixed on his face.
It’s so disgustingly sweet, Wakana might vomit glitter soon.)
Eijun appears at the doorway to see her out, the loud voices of Amahisa and Eitoku following them out into the cold air. He’s bundled in a sweater that looks a bit large on him, not that Wakana wants to know if it’s Amahisa’s or not, though it’s a pretty good guess that it is. Eijun keeps fiddling with the sleeves as they fall down his hands, his eyes not able to meet hers, a nervous habit of his he never managed to drop when he’s nervous.
It shouldn’t be nearly as endearing as it is, even after all this time.
“What’s up Ei?”
That gets a startle, huge round eyes flickering to hers as he freezes his fiddling. He seems to gather up some courage, his gaze turning determined as he straightens himself up. “So what’s the verdict?”
“Hmm.”
She should have known that’s why he’s nervous, but she thought it was quite obvious she doesn’t hate Amahisa, even if she finds him entirely too shameless, though Eijun seems to like that about him a lot. Wakana takes her time to word her answer, knowing it’s driving Eijun a little insane with the wait, but she wants to put all her feelings into the right words, knowing the wrong ones could hurt her friend.
And the last thing she ever wants to do is hurt him more than he already has been.
So she thinks back to the last few days, of loud laughter and clingy touches, of straying eyes that connect across a room, of the range of happiness two people can even experience. She thinks that the population of the entire world is somewhere around seven billion and yet those two can look at each other like they’re the only two in it.
She thinks of hushed whispers full of tears that are brushed away with such tenderness it makes her own teeth ache to remember, that the comfort of meeting someone can make any hardship worth enduring for the brightness they bring. That something as simple as a game can bring two people together at the right time to let themselves truly love the other, to know even if they missed each other they will always be meant to meet.
Wakana thinks of the words written on her skin and wonders if taking a leap of faith will result in something similar, or if happiness is only reserved for those who bleed bravery even when fear cuts them deep.
She thinks of sunny smiles and warm honey eyes, and knows.
“You’re happy Ei-chan.” It’s not a question, just a fact, a statement of being so clear, Wakana’s truly glad for the first time that they all pushed Eijun to go to Tokyo.
“I really am Wakana.” And he is, his eyes melting as he tilts his head towards the door where Amahisa’s muffled chuckles can be heard.
And oh, that’s more than happiness, that’s love, and Eijun wears it so easily, as if he was always meant to, and maybe he is. Wakana has never met anyone that loves and gives more than Eijun, it’s so fitting he’s found someone that’ll return that twofold as easily as breathing. So she takes in the expression, along with the too big sweater, the pleading words whispered in the dark, the plain adoration when eyes meet, and she can finally just breathe.
Wakana likes to think this is what people mean when they say you should see the world, that you never know what’s out there until you do.
It’s never sounded so appealing as it does now looking into Eijun’s lovestruck eyes.
“Then that’s all that matters to me, I’m really happy for you Eijun.” The smile she gets in response is so bright Wakana can’t help but squint a bit in return as she smiles back. Then it turns a little sharper at her next words. “But if he ever makes you cry they’ll never find the body.”
That gets a surprised laugh, but his smile stays bright, telling her he understands that while she absolutely means those words, she still genuinely approves of Amahisa.
It’s nice to know her opinion still means so much to him.
“Thank you Wakana.”
“You’re welcome, but for what?”
“For making sure I was brave enough.”
She can feel her breath catch in her throat, a thousand denials on her tongue, because how did she make him brave when he’s the reason any of them even know what bravery looks like? When he’s the reason they aren’t as afraid to fail, when he picks himself up each time and proves anything is possible by sheer force of will?
“So now I’m going to make sure you’re brave enough Wakana.”
“What, Eijun…?”
He takes another breath and gives her an understanding look, kind eyes and soft lines. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, too smart to be stuck here for all of your life. I know you’ve been looking at colleges in Tokyo and I think you should do it.”
“...you don’t even know what I want to study.”
“Doesn’t matter. Tokyo’s so big, it probably has a college for every field there is!” Wakana can’t help the laugh that sputters out at his words, Eijun looking a bit smug. “The point is it’ll have what you need, you just have to take that step.”
“And what if it’s too much, what if I regret it?”
“I think you’ll regret it more if you don’t go. And like my gramps said before I left, you can always come back home!” The smile he leaves her with is small but sure, and she feels feather light as she walks home, the snow falling gently among the strands of her hair.
When she gets home, she stands in front of her desk, college pamphlets messily piled to the side to be sorted at a later point. She stares at them, recalling her indecision and inner turmoil over her choices, remembering how much she wished it could be so easy to decide.
But then words spoken gently in response to encouragement of years past float through her mind and suddenly it’s easier to picture her life in the unknown.
Because what is life if not a huge leap of faith, ready to be taken even with just an inch of bravery.
Her old clock ticks loudly in the silence matching the beating of her heart, as she picks up the bottom pamphlet, the glossy cover shining back at her, never opened in all the months she’s had it since the day her teacher gave it to her. Thumbing through it, all the smiling faces of students past greet her, and she isn’t afraid.
“... And this is the weight room, I don’t think you’ll be needed in here much, but better to know where everything is just in case.”
Wakana looks around her in wonder at the facilities, excited to get started as she follows the coach closely. “Wow, this place is huge, I may need a map for the first few weeks!”
“Haha! Don’t worry too much, it gets easier. The team managers’ break room is down the hall from here though so we’ll head there next. Oh Nomura, good timing! This is Aotsuki Wakana, one of our new managers for the team, and Aotsuki, this is Nomura Asahi, captain of the team. You’ll probably be working together a lot to make sure the team stays in shape.”
The man in front of her is tall, light brown hair mussed from his workout, a boyish grin settles easily on his face. “Hey, nice to meet you, Aotsuki! I hope you can keep up, we have a lot of work to do to grab the championship this year.”
A disbelieving laugh bubbles out, turning into a sharp smirk soon after. She can’t wait to tell Eijun about this later.
“I was born ready. Hope you can keep up Nomura.”