WON'T TURN BACK, miyuki kazuya

chapter 6

The silence that follows Eijun's departure is tense.

You sigh, moving away from the door to lean against one of the shelves. Across from you, Miyuki doesn't hesitate to meet your gaze, his hands now tucked into the pockets of his joggers.

A clock on the wall ticks quietly in the silence. The ceiling rumbles faintly, the sounds of movement on the level above you.

"We shouldn't have done any of that," you finally say, your voice quiet. "None of it. It was . . . childish and immature and petty."

To your surprise, he sighs and agrees. "You're right."

"It's not just wrong because we dragged Eijun into it," you murmur. "Even if he didn't know . . . it's still wrong. To go behind his back like that and . . ."

"And lie to him."

You wince, pressing a hand to your face. "Yes."

"Well . . ." You watch him take a seat on the carpeted floor, legs stretched out in front of him. After a minute, you copy him, sitting across from each other. You cross your legs, tucking your hands in the pocket of Eijun's hoodie.

Crossing his arms, his eyes go to the shelves. "It's my fault. I was the one that started out."

You swallow. "But I fed into it. It's both our faults. I just . . ." At your falter, his eyes go back to you, but you avert your gaze to your shoes; you're still in leggings and sneakers. "Miyuki, if you think that I'm not aware that your relationship with Eijun was formed before ours and has lasted a very long time, much longer than our own . . . I am."

You lift your eyes, meeting his again. You aren't sure what you expect, but the understanding in his amber brown eyes surprises you.

"I know . . . I know how close you two are," you continue quietly. "And I'm glad that he has you. I really, really am. I like baseball enough but . . . it'll never be on the same level as the two of you. You give him something I can't."

Slowly, he uncrosses his arms, folding his hands in his lap.

"It doesn't matter how long Eijun and I have been friends. Or that we each give him different things. All that matters . . ." he pauses, discomfort briefly tightening corners of his mouth, perhaps at the idea of being vulnerable with you. "All that matters is that we both care about him, yeah?"

"Yes," you utter, knowing in your heart of hearts that it's true. That, more than anything else, holds true. You'd go to the ends of the universe and back for him if he wanted. And you know Miyuki feels the same way. He may not express it like you do, not through words of affirmation, but through acts, through the affection that, when you're not around, he shares with him.

It's quiet for the next couple minutes and you feel some of the tension in the room ease.

Miyuki must feel it, too, because eventually, he speaks.

"Before . . . my trade with the Mariners . . . I hadn't seen Eijun face-to-face in over two years. We both came to the Majors here at the same time but we weren't just on different teams, but in different leagues. We would rarely face each other on the diamond. And during the offseason, initially, I would see him, but we had spent a lot of time together already in Japan, despite being on different teams. Then there was high school." He pauses, taking a deep breath, seeming incredibly uncomfortable with speaking so honestly but deciding to push ahead, anyway.

"It was sort of unspoken that we should take a break. Let each other breathe. Let him figure out. Let . . . me figure it out. He'd say I have nothing to figure out," he says, smiling slightly. A real time, genuine in its making. All it is is a gentle curve of his lips but to you, it feels a little bit like seeing the sun after so many days of darkness. A relief, in that you finally get to see the real thing; not the facade, not the mask he puts on around others, around you.