The baseball lover

Hello all, I'm an author that writes only in spanish, but some of you may know me because my blog in tumblr about this series. This is one of my fanfics translated to english (orinal name: El amante del béisbol), I had a lot of help from Poppy who not only beta read my horrible english translation but also contributed with some original content in a few parts of the story. Thank you very much Poppy, this was a great help, I've wanted to share a fic in english since a long time but I don't have the skills to do it alone.

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"Do you want me to go to a game?"

"Well, yeah. Only if you want though...," Yuuri said, losing all the excitement he had just moments ago. "You're not really all that interested in baseball, right?"

In fact, no, he didn't feel any particular interest towards this 'bassball' that Yuuri seemed so passionate about.

"Now?" he asked to confirm, despite it being quite evident from the uniform that Yuuri was sporting. Gold lettering stuck out from underneath his black chest protector, and even if he couldn't see what it said fully, he knew it wrote Shinma Lions. (1)

"Umm...," Yuuri murmured, black eyes looking away. "It can be another day, it doesn't have to be now. You're probably busy, after all..."

The atmosphere was becoming awkward. Plus, it wasn't like he had anything better to do today. Deciding to give in to the other's request, Wolfram switched the weight of his body to his other leg and placed a hand on his hips, the other, holding the book Wolfram had been lazily skimming before Yuuri had found him.

"Okay."

The unexpected confirmation surprised Yuuri, gaze returning. When his face broke into one of his dazzling smiles, Wolfram felt more assured about pleasing him.

"In fact," he continued, "I'm free all day."

When they arrived at the field, Wolfram immediately noticed that there had been a number of improvements since the last time he visited. It was now covered in a manicured, green grass and a simple, but comfortable, wooden construction, with seats for the observers, had been built. The players, whom he recognized as some of the castle's soldiers, now had uniforms and nicer-looking equipment.

When he and Yuuri had parted ways after a group of the soldiers began to ask Yuuri questions regarding the upcoming match, Wolfram had caught a glimpse of Conrart over their shoulders. He was adorning one of same colored uniforms that the soldiers were wearing. Obviously, Wolfram thought, he'd be part of the team as well. He felt a pang of jealousy run through him. Not necessarily because of the small part of him also wished to play, but because the shirts they were wearing were a deep black. Contrasting nicely with the form-fitting, white pants they were tucked into, the royal color was something that only a few had permission, let alone the gall, to wear, even amongst the aristocracy. The helmets were also black, including the ones of the rival team, whose shirts were blood red. He supposed if you got to be a part of recreating the king's favorite Earth pastime, that silent rule was overlooked. At least it was something the soldiers could brag about to their friends and family back home.

He also discovered that he wasn't going to be the only spectator in the benches. Greta was sitting with Günter sharing some sort of snack.

"Daddy Wolf, here, here!" waved the girl, spotting him as he climbed up the stairs to join them.

Sitting down next to her, he graciously accepted the drink she offered him. It was orange juice with ice.

"I'm glad you came," she said excitedly, placing her hands over his thigh and with her feet swinging energetically off the bench. "I told Daddy Yuu that if he invited you, you wouldn't refuse. He thinks you hate his game."