A Love Stronger Than Whispers

Batting Cage Mayhem

Scud Incoming

Around three months after the confession

The confession hung in the air, warm and electric, yet fragile as autumn leaves. Kazuya and Chizuru, finally shedding the rented skin of their past, stood in the golden embrace of sunset, their hearts still echoing with the tremors of honesty.

"So," Chizuru broke the silence, her voice laced with a playful hint of nervousness, "how about a real date? This time, no contracts, no scripts, just... us."

Kazuya's face split into a grin, as genuine as the sun painting the sky with fiery hues. "Sounds perfect. Where do we start?"

"My treat," Chizuru announced, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Let's go somewhere I can blast some stress away."

And that's how they found themselves at the batting cages, the rhythmic clang of metal against wood replacing the city's usual symphony. Chizuru, a natural athlete, stepped up first, her form smooth and precise, sending the balls screaming into the netting with satisfying cracks. Her smile radiated, a testament to the catharsis of unleashing pent-up emotions.

Kazuya, ever the self-proclaimed klutz, watched with a nervous mix of admiration and awe. He expected himself to put on a comedic display, flailing at the air like a windmill caught in a storm. But then, something shifted. It started with a swing, tentative at first, then bolder, fueled by the lingering adrenaline of confession and the quiet encouragement in Chizuru's eyes.

"Scud incoming, babe."

The ball connected with the bat in a sweet spot, a satisfying "ping" echoing through the cage. It flew, a white bullet soaring towards the back fence, where it slammed into the netting with the force of a cannonball. Kazuya flipped his bat stared, dumbfounded, then at Chizuru, whose jaw practically hit the floor.

"Kazuya," she managed, her voice shaking with disbelief, "did you just...hit a homer?"

A grin, wide and disbelieving, split his face. He looked at the bat in his hand, a newfound respect blooming in his heart. "I guess I did," he stammered, still trying to grasp the sheer unexpectedness of it all.

Encouraged by Chizuru's laughter and awestruck cheers, Kazuya kept swinging. Each hit was a testament to his hidden talent, each ball disappearing into the twilight like a launched dream. It felt surreal, this sudden prowess in a realm he always considered foreign.

As the shadows deepened, and the batting cage lights illuminated their faces, Chizuru looked at Kazuya, her eyes holding a new spark of wonder. "Who are you, when you're not tripping over your own feet?" she teased, a smile dancing on her lips.

"I don't know this side of you, honestly. You, who I hardly ever saw exercised when we lived together, now squatting almost 400 kilograms and doing bench press almost everyday."

Kazuya shrugged, surprised by the newfound confidence in his own voice. "Maybe this is the real Kazuya, the one who's been hiding under the guise of a disaster zone." He paused, then met her gaze, his voice softer now. "But I couldn't have found him without you, Chizuru."

Sweet-Swinging Lefties

As the echoes of Kazuya's final homer faded, a familiar blur of pink blonde hair shot into the cage. "Alright, Kinoshita-senpai," Hana declared, snatching Shinichi's bat like a pirate claiming a sword. "Time for you to witness pure Uzaki-style mastery!"

Shinichi chuckled, shaking his head with mock resignation. "Just don't break anything, Hana. Remember what happened to the karaoke machine?"

Hana stuck her tongue out playfully. "Hey, that was your fault for challenging me to that Dragon Ball Z theme song duet!"