Chapter Text
"Sawamura, leave it."
Eijun's grip loosens, arm dropping down to his side. Miyuki's heady scent is now replaced by Kuramochi's subdued, more familiar one, a reminder of who he is and what he is risking at this moment. His fingers remain curled into tight fists, however, spike of annoyance untamed. A heavy breath rushes out from between his parted lips, and he stumbles a little in his hurry to place a safer, more appropriate distance between them.
"He provoked me."
"That doesn't mean you take his bait," Kuramochi says evenly, tugging his arm firmly. "Let's go."
Eijun's face twists into a displeased scowl. Deep down, he knows what Kuramochi is trying to convey, and while he absolutely detests the fundamental reason for Kuramochi's concern, it's definitely something he has to look out for. He takes a heavy step back, narrowed eyes still fixed on Miyuki's steely ones. "Asshole."
"Coming from someone who just snooped through my bag?" Miyuki says, corners of his mouth curling to an ugly sneer.
He's going to punch his face one day. Today will be the day. Fuck the hierarchy, no one knows their status here anyway. "For the hundredth time, it fell out and I just happened to pick it up!"
Kuramochi wraps his fingers around Eijun's forearm. Eijun angles his head back, sees the furrow of Kuramochi's brows as he shakes his head. "Stop. We are going back."
There is no room for argument when Kuramochi takes on this tone with him. Miyuki's expression is almost scarily stoic, a stark contrast with the outburst he had earlier. To think the rumored genius catcher from the opposing team would have such a short fuse—acting so bizarrely protective over something like medication pills. Whatever it was. Maybe he has a illness that no one knows about? That doesn't excuse his behavior, however. Eijun is absolutely sure he comes off as anything but hostile and suspicious when he handed it over.
It's such a letdown to know someone you've been idolizing is just...this. Eijun sends another disdainful look over to Miyuki as he lets himself get pulled away by Kuramochi, resolute to make his message clear. Like it doesn't bother him at all—it probably really doesn't, frankly—Miyuki simply turns away.
"I told you not to get close to other people." Kuramochi casts a furtive glance around the surroundings. Most players have already cleared off from the field, back in the lockers washing up or waiting at the assembly area for a final briefing before they are officially dismissed for the day. "Especially Alphas."
"I have my scent taken care of," Eijun says. "No cause for worry."
"It's precisely because you are so relaxed that I'm tense."
"What happened with Miyuki just now?" Kuramochi asks, once they are in the privacy of their shared apartment.
"He's basically a jerk," Eijun mutters, dropping his duffel bag down beside the sofa.
"Most Alphas are," Kuramochi agrees.
The scene of Miyuki snatching the pills away from his hands flashes past his mind. He remembers Miyuki's scent overpowering the stinky perfume that all baseball players are forced to wear by protocol just for that split second—it was enough, however, for the Omega in him to react, rousing to closeness of an Alpha as Miyuki stalked towards him, eyes glinting a furious red. He had almost bowed over in reflexive submission, and it was disturbing how it was a damned biological instinct working inside him that made him want to do it. The material sticking against his sweaty back suddenly feels stifling hot, and he hisses an expletive as he makes a quick work of unbuttoning his jersey.
Kuramochi's eyes are still focused on him when he finally looks up. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Eijun says, "I was just disappointed, I guess. The magazines painted him to be such a great role model, but in real life..."
Kuramochi makes such an exaggerated show of rolling his eyes that Eijun can't help but laugh, shaking his head at his upperclassman's antics. "Seriously, you trust a magazine that puts emphasis on his status of an Alpha? You are too naive, brat."
"Well, they did include his game statistics in the shitty article," Eijun says, mouth curving to a small smile.
Kuramochi clears his throat, looping an arm around Eijun's shoulders. Eijun makes a half-hearted protest as he slaps Kuramochi's arm, but the latter ignores him. "What are statistics," he mockingly mimics the umpire earlier this afternoon, voice low and gravelly, "when he's an Alpha?"
"Oh my god," Eijun exclaims, peering up to look at Kuramochi's satisfied expression, "that was like, a perfect imitation! You can apply for an umpire instead, senpai!"
Kuramochi glowers down at him for a good moment, then he flips him over and locks Eijun's arms behind his back. "Ow, ow, ow! Senpai! I'm sorry!"
"That will teach you how to talk, you brat! Hyahahaha!"
"Tell me why we have a practice game against them again," Eijun says through gritted teeth.
Haruichi nudges Eijun with his elbow. "Shh, Eijun-kun. We have already signed an agreement. We are the top two competing teams in this region; it makes perfect sense to have regular practices together. It'd be of mutual benefit." Haruichi eyes Eijun curiously, tilting his head to the side. "Why are you so against this, anyway? I thought you were really excited to meet Miyuki previously?"
"Ugh," Eijun groans, "don't talk about that."
Haruichi's brows raise in question. "And...?"
"I will tell you next time," Eijun says, as the entire row of baseball players bend over for their usual bow. When he straightens his back again, he sees Miyuki's eyes on him, a lopsided smirk quirking his mouth. He makes a small inclination of his head in Eijun's direction before he turns away, jogging back to his dugout.
It feels like an icy weight has just sunk in his abdomen. It's extremely unsettling. Does Miyuki know...?
He frowns as he follows behind Haruichi, making their way back to the dugout. That's not possible. He's absolutely sure that he had the perfume dabbed on every inch of his exposed skin the last game. Today, as well. It wouldn't be good if his identity as an Omega is discovered among the team. While they are great as teammates, he had overheard fantasies in the locker room, and they really didn't sound pleasant. Just thinking about it makes a shiver run past his body.
Gross.
"Oi," Kuramochi whispers, and it is the only warning Eijun gets before he's forcefully, abruptly, pulled to the back of the dugout by the back of his jersey.
Kuramochi scans around them for a quick second, then presses in close to Eijun and buries his nose in the crook of Eijun's neck. Eijun nearly yelps in surprise, feeling his body warm to the contact as he's cornered against the wall with no other escape. He struggles futilely under Kuramochi's iron grip on his arms. "Wha—What are you doing, senpai?!"
"Shut up, Sawamura," Kuramochi grouses, pulling back from Eijun, face slightly flushed. "I'm trying to check if you are being cautious enough."
"I am!" Eijun says, slightly offended. It is his own career that they are talking about after all, how can he not be taking all the safety measures seriously?
"Then tell me why Miyuki Kazuya," Kuramochi practically spits his name out, and Eijun feels himself grow cold with dread, "is staring at you like he wants to take you for his own?"
Eijun's face flushes hotly, and he's definitely sure that Miyuki wasn't staring at him that way. He can't be. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, I am," Kuramochi deadpans. He levels a flat look at Eijun, making him shrink back. "I'm not scaring you, you dumbass. Can you—for fuck's sake—be more self-aware? Remember how I found out about you? It wouldn't have ended so nicely had I not been a fucking Beta, brat."
Eijun swallows hard. "I know. I'm very sure I don't smell anything like—like, you know."
Kuramochi sighs, takes another step back, pinches the bridge of his nose. "Just be careful, okay? You are like—shit, I can't believe I'm saying this—my little brother, I don't want you being forced to do something you don't want to."
Eijun feels his bottom lip wobble; he reaches forward unthinkingly to grip Kuramochi's arms. "Kuramochi-senpai!"
"Ugh, ugh, don't get all mushy on me," Kuramochi mutters, but there's an undeniable fond curve of his lips as he slaps Eijun's hands half-heartedly away. "You better pitch your best on the mound."
"I will!" Eijun salutes Kuramochi determinedly, and there's a low chuckle behind him that makes them turn. Ryousuke stands a few feet away from Kuramochi, mouth set in that unnervingly feral smile that reveals just a glimpse of his teeth.
"If you two have bonded enough," he says, "Coach is calling for you, Sawamura."
Kuramochi suddenly looks suspiciously flustered as he nods for Eijun to go ahead. Eijun flicks them both a look, but Ryousuke's eyes are unwaveringly fixed in Kuramochi's direction, and his upperclassman is resolutely staring at the wall behind him.
Somehow, he thinks it's not really something he should interfere in. He quickly excuses himself and jogs over to the coach who gestures him to join his catcher.
Yui arches a brow when Eijun reaches him. "What was that with Kuramochi-senpai?"
"What's it to you?" Eijun retorts, rising a brow at Yui as well.
A corner of Yui's mouth curls. "Right."
He lifts a mitt to cover his mouth when his gaze slides over to the on-deck circle. Eijun follows his gaze, and he sees Miyuki squatting on the dirt, one knee on the ground and looking impossibly collected. He doesn't look over to meet Eijun's eyes, and he's feeling irrationally relieved and oddly—disappointed?—by that observation.
That's ridiculous. Or maybe that's the Omega in him thinking.
"We'll be mixing your change-ups in," Yui says. "He's a tough one to crack. And I don't think you'd want to walk him, right?"
Eijun finds himself smirking back at Yui. "Obviously not."
Their fists meet in a quick bump, and Eijun adjusts his cap as he jogs to the mound, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the threaded seams of the baseball as he watches Miyuki step up to the batter's box.
Yui makes a sign for a fastball to the outside corner. Eijun inhales deeply, then raises his leg and prepares to throw.
It is then, that Miyuki's head lifts and he's just fucking staring at him, and Kuramochi's words pass Eijun's mind in this untimely moment—Eijun nearly falters in his wind-up, his heart slamming frantically fast against his ribs—the ball is pushed out from his fingers half a second too early, and ends up swerving too far left.
"Ball!" The umpire declares.
Eijun curses under his breath as Yui stands to throw the ball back to him. His brows are furrowed as he gives Eijun a questioning look. Eijun shakes his head, closes his eyes and forces himself not to answer the urge to turn his gaze to Miyuki.
Focus on your fingertips.
He opens his eyes again, training them sharply on Yui's waiting mitt. The ball is flung out in a good trajectory this time—Eijun can feel it, and it lands right where Yui asked for. Miyuki doesn't even swing his bat.
"Strike!"
Miyuki doesn't look disturbed that he missed the pitch at all; in fact, a fucking smirk quirks his mouth, the nerve of him... He lifts his chin haughtily, like he's telling Eijun to show him better, like he's trying to challenge him, and Eijun is having a very difficult time concentrating on not stomping over and punching his face in. Or something.
The next pitch lands in Yui's mitt with a loud smack, echoing in the backdrop as the umpire yells out another strike. Yui's eyes are glinting with assured confidence, but Eijun can't help but feel the ripple of unease. Is Miyuki deliberately playing with them?
Eijun adjusts his grip for a change-up behind his mitt, eyes sliding close and he tries to calm his already-frayed nerves. It's no good to be obsessing over something he has no control over, anyway. If, by some miracle, Miyuki had actually discovered his identity, then he definitely must be on his best game to prove himself.
Steeling his determination, he takes in a deep breath, focuses his sharp eyes on Yui's waiting mitt that seems to be abruptly larger, better. The pitch drops abruptly, and Miyuki's eyes widen momentarily as his bat swings through empty air and the ball lands snugly with a resounding smack.
"Strike!"
Miyuki stands there for a frozen second, body stiff as he stares down at his bat. Then he angles his head back to look at Eijun, and he can't help the sharp intake of air when their eyes meet—Miyuki's eyes... they are unmistakably dark, like the beginning of a contained storm being unleashed. It's suddenly extremely difficult to breathe, and he stares back, unblinking, breath caught in his throat helplessly.
Miyuki tears his gaze away first, looking genuinely perplexed for a split second as he steps away from the batter's box—probably a few seconds too late—because Yui is staring at them both with a shrewd glint in his eyes. He says nothing, however, going back to his squat as the next batter enters the box.
Eijun is pretty sure he isn't getting off easily.
Thing is, he doesn't even know what's going on himself.
They lose by a single run.
Eijun isn't overly devastated by the loss; they have learned new things about their weaknesses—and even their rival's. His change-up definitely needs some polishing, too. He'd love it if he can refine the circle change-up enough to use it in a real game...
"Sawamura."
Eijun hums out a reply, hanging his towel over his neck and tugs the strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder. As he suspected, Yui is standing there with bright, big eyes and an expectant grin. "Hey!"
"Hey!" Their fists bump together as they grin, and they fall into easy companionship, chatting animatedly over the game.
"As I thought, I need to work on my change-ups a little more," Eijun says.
Yui nods slowly. "Yeah, we can do that for tomorrow's practice. It'd be great if you can do the grip we've been working on."
"I'd really love to go against Tetsu again," Eijun says thoughtfully.
Yui flashes Eijun a grin. "No other people you are interested in?"
Eijun pauses, thinks about it. "Definitely! I want to see Narumiya pitch again, that's for sure!"
"You're still a long way from that."
"That's rude," Eijun grouses, then stops himself when he realizes that it wasn't Yui talking. Both of them exchange a look, then they turn to see Miyuki behind them—and what the hell, is that Chris?!
"Chris-san?!" Eijun nearly yells, eyeballs nearly bulging out of his sockets. "Oh my god, you are the real thing?!"
Chris seems momentarily thrown-off by Eijun's reaction. "Um. Yes. Hello."
"I really, really look up to you!" Eijun can't help but take one step closer, arms flailing around him with his excitement. This is insane. This is ludicrous. This is absolutely amazing. "I saw that article in the baseball magazine—but wow, you handled yourself so well, and your catching skills are legendary!"
Chris glances over to Miyuki, corners of his mouth twitching. Eijun isn't sure what the expression means, but Chris looks like he's trying not to laugh—probably—so that means something positive right? "Not really legendary, but thank you. I'm flattered."
"No, no," Eijun corrects him gravely, "it is legendary. Definitely. You are my role model. The role model of all role models!"
"Just so you know," Miyuki says, "I'm real too."
Ugh. Eijun rolls his eyes, flaps his hands dismissively in Miyuki's direction without even looking at him. He focuses all his attention on the now smiling Chris, giving his best, brightest grin. "May I know why you are seeking my humble person?"
"Oh my god, this kid is unreal," Miyuki says, bursting out to full-blown laughter beside Chris, slapping his thighs repeatedly.
Eijun eyes him distastefully. What is wrong with him? "I wasn't speaking to you!"
"Are you—Are you sure you're from our era?" Miyuki asks as his shoulders continue shaking from his attempt to muffle another uprising chortle.
"Miyuki, that's enough," Chris says, though there's a fond smile flickering at the ends of his lips. "Remember why you came."
"Um, I guess I shall just go ahead first," Yui suddenly speaks up from beside Eijun. Eijun startles when he realizes that he's actually here with him, and he opens his mouth to apologize when Yui waves his hand in an awfully familiar motion. By the mischievous glint in Yui's eyes, it's definitely not unintentional. "I will tell Kuramochi-senpai, don't worry. Just get back soon."
Eijun nods and turns back to face Chris.
Chris clears his throat, regarding Eijun with a vaguely different expression he had approached him with before. "Actually, it's Miyuki who needs to tell you something."
Miyuki suddenly looks extremely out of place when Chris says that, hand reaching to the back of his neck like he's in an uncomfortable position. Eijun sure isn't going to make this easy for this nasty bastard.
"Yes, Miyuki?" Eijun says as sweetly as he can muster. He has to be polite in front of Chris after all.
"Uh. Well, I got to know from one of my teammates that you weren't snooping through my bag. I overreacted. Sorry."
Eijun blinks. Well, he certainly wasn't expecting that. He flicks a quick glance over to Chris, then back to Miyuki. Wow, Chris sure has an influence on Miyuki, doesn't he? So that means that Miyuki respects Omegas even though he is an Alpha himself?
Okay. That is something he hadn't expected to learn.
He realizes belatedly that they are both waiting for him to say something in response. Heat rushes up to his cheeks when Miyuki arches an inquisitive brow at him. Is he even apologetic at all? "It's fine."
He is magnanimous by nature. He is generous. It's okay, because Chris makes it okay. He nods to himself in self-affirmation. "If that's all you came to me for, then I'd better get going."
Surprise flits across Miyuki's face. "Oh. That's all?"
Eijun frowns. "You were the one looking for me."
"Right." He pauses. "See you next practice game."
Chris smiles at Eijun. "You were great on the mound today."
Eijun can't help but preen at the praise he unexpectedly received, practically beaming as he declares, "Yes, I know! I can definitely do much better, however! It is extremely kind of you to notice my pitching in this vast field! I humbly accept your bestowed compliment!"
Miyuki is doubling over with laughter again by Chris' side. Eijun's beam immediately morphs to an unimpressed scowl. "Stop laughing!"
"Jesus, Chris-senpai, I wouldn't be surprised if this kid has your photo on a secret altar or something," Miyuki says between chuckles, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. "He's hilarious."
Eijun opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again, because well, even though he doesn't have an altar (definitely not, because Kuramochi would kill him), almost all of the clippings he obtained from newspapers and magazines are of Chris. Some of them belong to Miyuki, and while he has half a mind to tear it down at this very moment, he knows deep down that he'd never do that. Miyuki is undeniably phenomenal on the field, just like Chris. Not that he'd ever say that to him.
"He's not denying it," Miyuki observes, mouth curving again. "Oh man."
Chris looks utterly overwhelmed by that implication, but he's still smiling. Eijun hopes he hasn't scared him off. "I'm sorry if I came on too strong. You are my inspiration."
I'm an Omega too, he wants to say, but he reels the words in because Miyuki is still here, still watching him, and he can't risk exposing himself to someone who he deems as unreliable. "You are really my inspiration."
His voice has grown softer at the end of his sentence, and somehow, he feels like Chris really gets him, like he knows what Eijun is trying to tell him. Eijun hopes it's really that way, because Chris moves forward and places a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "I get it. Do your best, Sawamura."
Eijun really wants to cry.
Chris is so amazing.
He tries to swallow the tears back in. Makes his voice steady when he speaks again. "I will. Thank you so much, Chris-san."
Chris' gaze is soft with understanding as he steps back. Then he pauses for a fraction of a second, and questions, "Do you have your phone with you, Sawamura?"
Eijun blinks at Chris, bewildered. "Uh, yes, give me a moment." He unzips the front of his bag and pulls his phone out, hands it over to Chris.
Miyuki whistles when he leans over to see what Chris is typing into Eijun's phone. "Wow, kid, you sure got lucky."
"Are you signing in my phone or something?" Eijun asks, eyes rounded wide.
"Idiot," Miyuki says, "it's something much better."
Chris shakes his head as he passes Eijun's phone back to him. Eijun stares down at it and sees eleven numbers keyed in his screen. This can't be.
"If you want to talk to someone any time, you can just send me a text. If you want to, of course." Chris rubs the back of his ear. "I'm not sure if you want—"
"I do!" Eijun interrupts, vision really blurring now. "I do. Thank you so much. This means a lot to me."
"He's going to build an altar right at your feet now, Chris-senpai."
"Stop ruining the moment, Miyuki!"
Miyuki grins, unrepentant. "Well, you better get going. I don't know if that's your friend or mate, but he sure looks angry waiting there at the gate."
Shit. Kuramochi? "Crap, I better get going. Thank you so much, Chris-san!" Eijun does the deepest bow he can manage, face nearly bumping into his kneecaps. Miyuki's laughter reaches his ears, but he does not rise to the bait this time. Instead he straightens and fixes Miyuki a resolute stare before he gives a quick bow to Miyuki as well.
His laughter cuts short, and he stares at Eijun with confusion. "What?"
"Thank you for apologizing," Eijun explains, "thank you again, because I got to meet Chris, even though you didn't mean for it to happen."
Miyuki looks like he's at a loss for words. By Chris' amused expression as he gives Miyuki a look-over, Eijun's certain it doesn't happen often. "Goodbye. I will text you one day, Chris-san, if you wouldn't mind me intruding into your inbox!"
"Definitely not," Chris says.
Chris has to be an angel. Definitely.
"Bye!"
Miyuki looks like he's recovered for certain now, face composed and annoying smirk curving his lips again. "You were a thrill to watch today, Sawamura. I hope to see more of you."
Eijun's lips part in surprise, taken off-guard by Miyuki's remark that sounds strangely genuine. There's hotness spreading throughout the entirety of his face, and he's actually pretty sure that he's blushing. Oh for fuck's sake, whatever's wrong with him? "Oh. Of course, of course!" He blinks owlishly when he realizes that he's still frozen in the same spot, and Miyuki and Chris are both staring at him oddly.
Right, he needs to talk. Needs to move. Needs to find Kuramochi. He repeats the mantra in his head to keep his wits about him. "Right—thank you! Goodbye!"
He abruptly turns and dashes frantically towards the gate where Kuramochi is waiting with his arms crossed impatiently in front of his chest. He can feel a weighty stare burning into the back of his jersey and forces himself not to look. It's unquestioningly Miyuki Kazuya, but why is he doing that? What did Eijun do to get his attention?
"See, see," Kuramochi hisses. When Eijun begins to angle his head back, Kuramochi wraps a protective arm around Eijun's shoulders, stops him from doing so. "Not literally, you idiot. As I was saying, his expression—I have seen Alphas with that look. He's probably imagining how to kill me by now."
"Why would he want to kill you?" Eijun asks, furrowing his brows. That doesn't make sense.
Kuramochi stares at Eijun, looking utterly perplexed. "How you manage to survive till today amazes me, Sawamura."
Eijun stiffens, indignant. "Hey!"
"I can't be sure if he knows—" Kuramochi throws another surreptitious glance over his shoulder. "—he seems a little confused himself."
"I'm actually pretty sure he doesn't know I'm an Omega," Eijun says quietly. "He didn't give any clues that he does."
They are quiet as they climb up the steps into the bus, and the doors swish close behind them. Eijun bows at his coach when he passes him, then heads straight for the seats right at the back.
Kuramochi is still silent when he reaches Eijun, throwing his duffel bag up in the compartment. Eijun follows suit.
"Get in," Kuramochi says gruffly. Eijun brightens as he hurriedly claims the window seat.
The bus begins moving forward. The team falls into hushed conversations and light snores.
Kuramochi speaks up again. "If he knows, he knows. The knowledge is with him, and your entire career is in his hands."
"Chris-san survived. Maybe I can, too."
Kuramochi looks around them, giving a quick scan of their surroundings. "Chris-san is an exception. He has an influential father, and he has already made a name for himself. Not to mention, he's self-aware enough to protect himself. Your name is still new, Sawamura. The starting steps are important."
Eijun huffily stares at the front of his seat. "Okay."
"You are not listening to me," Kuramochi snaps. "I'm trying to tell you something."
"Yes," Eijun says in a sibilant whisper, "I know. I know, but I'm trying to have hope, okay?! Who wants to be born an Omega? Tell me!"
Kuramochi softens, and there's sadness in his eyes that Eijun can't bear to see. He looks away. Kuramochi loops an arm around Eijun's shoulder and squeezes him gently.
Eijun finds he can't stay irked at Kuramochi for long, relaxes in his arms and leans into his comfort.
"...It's not bad to have hope," says Kuramochi quietly.
"Not what you were saying earlier," Eijun says, but he's smiling slightly.
There's a light slap to the back of his head; it doesn't hurt the slightest, but Eijun yelps out of reflex. "Don't argue with me, brat."
"Miyuki. Miyuki Kazuya."
The name doesn't taste as sour as previous times, now that he knows that Miyuki actually respects Omegas—or maybe just Chris, because he's well, Chris. Self-explanatory and all that. Miyuki doesn't seem like the type to pretend he respects someone because of their background.
Eijun scratches his chin thoughtfully, finger pressing down on the right arrow to switch the channel again absentmindedly. Would it really be as bad as Kuramochi made it out to be if Miyuki knows?
The image of Miyuki staring at him with those practically black eyes makes a shiver run down his spine. It wasn't unpleasant, like he had expected.. He quickly pushes it to the back of his mind. He's been acting strange ever since he had hauled Miyuki by the front of his jersey last week. He didn't even touch Miyuki: strictly speaking, he only grabbed his shirt. It's dumb; even touching Alphas don't make him react that way. He has had skin contact with Haruichi and Ryousuke and several others—playing sports in general makes these interactions inevitable, to be honest.
But what made Miyuki so different from the rest?
His head begins aching at that thought. Ugh, is he thinking too much? He must be. This is insane. Why is he thinking so hard about this, anyway? Maybe he is just reacting like any normal, hormonal teenage boy when he meets someone attractive. Miyuki is definitely attractive.
Okay. Not a good train of thought to be on. Dangerous. Eijun hurriedly slaps the notion away. Pretends he never had it before.
His shirt suddenly feels like it's sticking on his skin, and his throat is parched and dry. "Why is this happening again," Eijun mutters, both perplexed and annoyed as he pulls his shirt off his body. There isn't even sweat on his body. He stares at the material in his hands with a frown.
"What are you doing?" Kuramochi asks as he enters the room, arching a brow.
"Hot?" Eijun says, but it comes out sounding more like a question.
Kuramochi simply stares at him. "It's in the middle of April."
"I don't know," Eijun groans, throwing the shirt down on the seat beside him.
"Hey." Kuramochi's expression turns serious, padding to lean over Eijun and presses a warm hand to his forehead. "You feel slightly warm. Are you having a fever?"
"I don't think so. I feel perfectly healthy," Eijun says truthfully.
Kuramochi seats himself beside Eijun and reaches for the calender conveniently placed on the glass table in front of him. He flips through the months, pausing whenever his eyes spot a circled date. "When is your next heat?"
"I have been taking my pills. They are always in my bag and pocket."
"What if pills aren't enough?" Kuramochi asks.
That question douses the entirety of Eijun into freezing, ice-cold water. There can't be that possibility. No way. "What are you saying? They have always been enough."
"I don't know." Kuramochi chews nervously down on his bottom lip, places the calender back on the table carefully. "Maybe your immune system got stronger? Maybe your biological system suddenly decides that nineteen is the perfect age to have a baby?"
"I have never heard of the pills—or perfume, for that matter—being rendered useless," he pauses for a fraction of a second, then backtracks, "okay, so if the perfume gets washed off, obviously our scent will be exposed. But pills being useless for preventing heats are unheard of."
Kuramochi purses his lips. "Right. Don't worry."
"You are the one worrying though!" Eijun protests.
Kuramochi ignores that comment easily. "You've had all these abrupt heat things recently?"
"Yeah," Eijun replies, not sure if that's enough cause for concern. It could just be a symptom of an oncoming fever, for all they know. "Seriously though, Kuramochi-senpai, don't worry so much."
"I'm obviously not," Kuramochi says, cackling. It's far too high-strung to be completely genuine. Before Eijun can call him out on it, Kuramochi's already leaning over to grab a still-packaged plastic case from under the coffee table. "Up for my new game?"