Some kind of relaxed and beautiful thing
kept flickering in with the tide
and looking around.
Black as a fisherman's boot,
with a white belly.
If you asked for a picture I would have to draw a smile
under the perfectly round eyes and above the chin,
which was rough
as a thousand sharpened nails.
And you know
what a smile means,
don't you?
I wanted
the past to go away, I wanted
to leave it, like another country; I wanted
my life to close, and open
like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song
where it falls
down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery;
I wanted
to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know,
whoever I was, I was
alive
for a little while.
It was evening, and no longer summer.
Three small fish, I don't know what they were,
huddled in the highest ripples
as it came swimming in again, effortless, the whole body
one gesture, one black sleeve
that could fit easily around
the bodies of three small fish.
Also I wanted
to be able to love. And we all know
how that one goes,
don't we?
Slowly
the dogfish tore open the soft basins of water.
You don't want to hear the story
of my life, and anyway
I don't want to tell it, I want to listen
to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.
And anyway it's the same old story--
a few people just trying,
one way or another,
to survive.
Mostly, I want to be kind.
And nobody, of course, is kind,
or mean,
for a simple reason.
And nobody gets out of it, having to
swim through the fires to stay in
this world.
And look! look! look! I think those little fish
better wake up and dash themselves away
from the hopeless future that is
bulging toward them.
And probably,
if they don't waste time
looking for an easier world,
they can do it.
━━━━━━
(21:31) Have an obligation with the team on saturday
(21:31) fun! what kind?
(21:31) Party at one of the guys' house
(21:31) Though it's more of a gathering than a party which is a relief
(21:32) It's just that the guys have been bothering me to meet you
(21:32) LOL
(21:32) oh shit wait you're being serious???????
-
"Is this really a good idea?"
"What are you so worried about?"
"It's your team," you stress, your eyes taking in the sprawling properties of Del Mar Heights. A neighbor to Carmel Valley, houses here are not houses, but mansions instead, perched on sloping ridges that overlook the ocean and the rest of San Diego.
"Yeah," he says. "You managed to become friends with me. So, you'll have no problem with them."
"Not what I meant... please tell me you aren't getting a house here."
You had to go through a gate to get here. A gate. Seriously. Your finances are in a better state now with your pay raise but it wasn't too long ago you were struggling to buy fresh produce.
"No way. Too stuffy."
"Nice views of the ocean, though."
"You and the water," he says, shaking his head. Fond.
You look away, glancing at your reflection in the window. The sun is starting to set. Today's endeavor isn't a party but you were instructed to dress a little more formally than usual. Kazuya looks heartachingly gorgeous in a deep blue long-sleeved button-up and jeans.
You're in your nicer stuff, too, in a warm ivory satin midi dress with a front tie at the bust and short fluttery sleeves. You traded your Docs for champagne velvet platform ankle-strap heels with bows.
But just because you're wearing lighter colors than usual doesn't mean you're trading in your standard dark lip look. Today's lipstick is mulberry, with a glassy finish to it. Your nails are freshly painted a matching shade, dark enough to look black.
You look... nice, Kazuya had said when he picked you up.
Your heart had leapfrogged to your chest and you stammered out that he did, too, and barely managed to stop yourself from saying that he always looks nice. Gorgeous, really. Just unbearably gorgeous. So gorgeous, it should be illegal.
Ugh.
Your sister's advice from last week is still bouncing around inside your head.
You don't think she's wrong. Not at all. But the days wear on. Your guilt increases. It's wrong, maybe. Selfish, to just think about yourself.
Like she said.
What about him?
You aren't kidding yourself. This is both the easiest and hardest decision you could ever make.
All that you could want is sitting to your left, humming along to the radio idly, fingers tapping on the leather of the steering wheel.
You don't have time to think about it any longer as you come upon a busy section of the street, tons of cars parked in the driveway of a mansion and on the street. All of them are luxurious sports cars. Kazuya's Audi is probably the least expensive here.
He expertly parallel parks between a Maserati and an Aston Martin across the street from the mansion, which is two stories, done in the typical Spanish revival style of California. Low, pitched roofs covered in red tiles, adobe exterior walls, numerous oversized windows, carved entry doors, multiple balconies, and high arches.
The inside is just as nice. Mosaic tiles, wood beams, arched doorways, and stucco walls.
It is also busy. Very busy.
"How many people are on this team?" you whisper desperately as the two of you shuffle inside unnoticed (for a short period of time, you're certain).
"Gonzales probably invited some of the staff, too. But generally, this is how many we start out with. Spring training decides who ends up on the starting roster. Oh, look. There's Wendy."
"Tee, it's good to see you," she says, giving you a warm smile.
"It's good to see you, too." More than good. You're so glad she's here. You aren't sure if you can shadow Kazuya all night. Not with the eyes that are noticing you, no doubt dying for a piece of him. You at least have someone to fall back on if he gets pulled away.
Though, truthfully, some part of you doesn't want that to happen. Wants to keep him here with you. But you don't get to do that.
"Kazuya!"
A tall, stocky older man shoulders his way through the people, grinning widely. Wendy moves out of the way.
You know who this is — Raul Gonzales, the Padres' star pitcher. Also one of the oldest among them, at thirty-nine. A true veteran of the game. He and Kazuya and a handful of the other pitchers helped take the Padres all the way through the playoffs to the World Series. There's plenty of talk in the press about their battery, so you aren't that surprised to hear him calling Kazuya by his first name.
A heavy hand claps his shoulder. "It's good to see you. You should answer your phone more often."
"I'm busy."
"Ha! I bet you are! With this little lady, I'm sure."
"You —"
"As friends." Gonzales holds up his hands, smirking. "Relax, man. Hey," he turns to you, offering a big hand, smile lines deepening in russet skin, "it's nice to finally meet you. We've heard a lot."
"It's nice to meet you, too. You have a beautiful home."
His grin widens. "Thanks. Interior design is an offseason passion. My wife, Sandra, is around here somewhere. She's in a blue dress. If I'm not around, you can ask her if you need anything."
"Oh, thank you."
"Yes, very kind, but we'll be together most of the night," Kazuya says. "Don't want to leave her to the sharks."
"No, I don't imagine you do. Come on. Most of us are out back."
"What do you mean, leave me to the sharks?" you whisper as the two of you follow him. Your voices are easily drowned out by the chatter and the Spanish music playing.
He shoots you a wry look. "Like I said. You're friends with me. Plus, with everything going on in the press... people are interested in you, tomcat. But as you can tell... a lot of them think we're together."
"Oh."
He misunderstands the smallness in your voice, shaking his head. "I told Raul to spread it around that we aren't. But, well. You know how this stuff is."
"Right. Yeah."
The backyard is humongous, with a large pool on one end, then a grassy area beside it. The grill is going in the outdoor kitchen, several people manning it, with a large fire pit near it, helping to fight off the January chill.
It's a whirlwind of introductions from there. Lots of questions about you and Kazuya (that is, how you 'deal with him,' which quickly gets old), lots of questions about your head, whether you really are okay (you are, for the most part; remains to be seen whether you'll suffer the effects as you get older), and then a few jokes about your relationship, too. Raul, despite his earlier tease, shuts them down. He's one of the oldest on the team and he's been on it for the past decade. You can tell his words hold weight.
"Kind of your worst nightmare as a catcher," Kazuya whispers to you in a brief moment of reprieve, a steadying hand on your back, trying to ease the tension in you. "To be significantly younger than him, for one, and for him to be seen as something like a captain. A real veteran."
"But you two did it, didn't you?"
"Yeah. Guess you can teach an old dog new tricks."
You exhale a quiet laugh, shaking your head.
He surveys the scene in front of you. The sun has set but the lights are on outside, the fire pit keeping you warm, the smoky scent of burning firewood pleasant. There's food, too. Burgers, hot dogs, steak. He has a bottle of beer in his hand but hasn't drank one sip of it. You stick with water.
"You wanna step inside?" he asks, hand sliding to your shoulder blades. "Just take a sec. I can hold these guys off."
Insane to realize that you are the hot commodity tonight, not him.
"Yeah," you sigh. "Thank you."
"Don't be there too long, though. I can be chivalrous for only so long."
You smile. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
The look in his eyes is warm and so is the feeling in your chest. Heat from the fire whips at you.
You turn.
Most of the people have moved outside by now. A few younger kids play in the living room, with the older ones sprawled out on the cushioned sofa on their phones, earbuds in, a few of them dozing; the eighty-inch flat screen TV plays some movie you don't recognize.
Little footsteps reach your ears.
"Excuse me?"
You turn forward, blink as you find air, then lower your eyes, where a little girl, no older than seven, stands.
You soften quickly. "Yes?"
She lifts a plate with a thin slice of steak on it towards you. "Can you cut this please?"
"Well, sure."
You take the plate and she tugs you by hand around the couch, to the low coffee table where a few other plates are sitting.
You kneel, careful of your dress, and start cutting it into smaller pieces.
"Thank you," she says. "Dad said to have Mom do it, since I don't know how to use the big knives. But then Mom said she's busy, so I should ask him. And I can't ask my big brother because —" she nods to one of the sleeping teenagers.
You smile. "I see your predicament. What's your name?"
"Penelope. What's yours?"
You tell her. "But you can call me Tee. Most people do."
"Why?"
"Well, y'see, I run this show on the radio. Me and my friend, Jerry. You know Tom and Jerry?"
"Oh! You're Tom."
"Yep. Or Tee. And Jerry is Mouser."
"Mouser?" she asks, wrinkling her nose with an incredulous smile on her mouth.
"Tom's the cat and Jerry's the mouse."
"So, shouldn't you be called something else?"
"Well, one of my friends calls me tomcat."
"Is it Miyuki?"
You blink, surprised. "Yes, it is."
She nods. "That's good. It's better like that. That way you're the cat and your other friend is the mouse."
You smile. "I agree."
She springs up from the fluffy carpet under the coffee table suddenly. "Wait here. Please."
You let her do her thing, glancing down at your work to finish cutting it up into pieces suitable for her.
Penelope returns a minute later with a Capri-Sun. "Can you open this, too, please? I can never get the straw in."
"Sure thing. Is this okay?" You nod to the plate.
She nods. "Yes. Thank you."
"No problem." You take the Capri-Sun, pulling the straw loose, pulling off the wrapper, then poking it into the hole.
Penelope watches you. "I like your nails. And your lipstick."
You smile. "Thank you. I like your shoes."
"They light up."
She stomps one for demonstration. You ooh accordingly.
You linger there, more relaxed now than you've felt for most of the evening.
But, just to take the edge off a little further, you'll try to find someplace else. A little more quiet, you think.
"You know your way around here?" you ask.
Penelope nods matter-of-factly. "The kitchen and movie theater is that way. The bathroom is this way."
Jeez. Movie theater?
You shake your head a little. "I'll be in the kitchen, then, if you need anything else. And don't worry about it, either, alright?"
She nods. "'Kay. Thanks."
"Sure."
You stand, smoothing down your dress, and head to where she said the kitchen was — to your right. Down a hall, where you pass a large and ornately decorated dining room, then you come upon the equally large kitchen. Really a beautiful piece of interior design. You'd want Raul to be your designer if you had the money to afford anything other than your little apartment.
You pause in front of the empty kitchen, looking down the rest of the hall hesitantly before deciding you are curious about this home theater Raul has.
You find it easily, a little sign above the door signaling it, and poke your head in. You are being very nosy, you know, sticking your nose into places you are probably not allowed but — home theater, man. Home theater.
You find a light switch — it's actually a touchscreen display embedded in the wall and a clumsy fumble of your fingers somehow manages to turn the lights on — which illuminates a large room. Bigger than your own bedroom, if you think about it. Large white screen at one end, with a few rows of plush loveseats facing it. You spy a popcorn maker and oodles of candy stocked on shelves in the wall. Even a... is that an Icee machine?
"If you want to hide in here for the rest of the night, I don't mind."
"Holy shit!"
You whirl around, a hand flying to your chest, but it's just Raul, looking torn between guilt and amusement as he holds up his hands in a placating motion.
"Sorry, sorry, I thought you heard me."
"No — um, I should be apologizing, I was... snooping —"
He snorts, waving a hand. "Snooping. Don't worry about it, kid. If Kazuya trusts you, I trust you. Snoop all you like. Well. Within reason."
You laugh. "Still. I shouldn't have —" you gesture to the theater, stepping away from the door. "It's, um, really cool, though."
"Kinda obnoxious, though, isn't it?" he asks, chuckling and leaning in to look. "It's mostly for the kids. Sandra and I still like going out to the movie theaters."
"I would think you run less of a bill here."
"True. But I also appreciate how movie theaters let total strangers come together to watch something. Something about collective action, don't you think?"
"That... Yeah. Yeah. I agree. Like with concerts."
Raul nods quickly. "Exactly. It's nice. The kids just think it's cheesy."
You chuckle. "They'll come around to it when they get older."
"That's what Sandra says, too." He leans in to turn off the light and close the door. "So, I'm guessing you came in to escape."
"Just a small break."
The two of you start for the kitchen. Raul nods. "I get it. Kazuya had a penchant for doing that, too, when he first got traded. He still does it sometimes these days."
"Sounds like Kazuya," you chuckle.
"He likes his space. Solitude. So, I was pretty surprised to keep hearing he was out and about this offseason."
You wince. "I, uh, commandeered probably too much of his time."
"I don't know," Raul says, stepping into the kitchen while you pause at the counter. "He probably wouldn't agree with you. And I'm not sure I do, either. It's good to see him getting out."
He opens one of those fancy wine refrigerators under the island. "I try to convince him to hang out with me or Sandra, even if it's just errands or something. Just to get him out. He's much more willing with you, which is better. You're a good influence on him."
Something about that makes your heart ache. You try to brush it off.
"Wine?" he asks, two glasses now in hand, along with a wine bottle. Something French. A rosé.
"Just a little. Thanks."
"Sure. It's much preferable to beer, but some of the guys can be weird about it." He rolls his eyes as he says that.
You laugh.
"Anyway, I just came in to check on you. Doing my host-ly duties. Plus Kazuya was a bit worried."
"About —?"
"Who else?"
He passes you the glass and you take a sip.
"Everything's fine," you say. It really is. You should be ready to head out soon. But you're curious about something.
"You know... I hadn't realized you two were so close. I mean, they talk about it in the press but..." This is something different.
"He's a good kid. Spent a lot of time with us when he moved."
"He never mentioned it."
"I wouldn't expect him to. It's a casual thing. Meaningful but casual."
"That's nice. I was worried he'd been alone this whole time."
"We do what we can. Seems like you cracked the code, though."
You smile and shrug. "All it takes is a baseball to the face."
He laughs. "You're funny. I can see why he likes you."
"Huh?"
Raul raises a brow. "As a friend, kid."
"Right."
An awkward silence takes hold. He takes a pointed sip of his wine.
You groan. "No, I just completely revealed myself, didn't I?"
"Not now. Anyone with a pair of eyes can see it. But yes. It was an official confirmation."
"So embarrassing," you whisper.
"I think it's nice. The only thing I'm wondering is — why aren't you two together?"
You smile tiredly. "You aren't the first person to ask that question."
He shakes his head. "I ask out of his interest. To protect him. You seem like a nice person but... Kazuya so rarely allows himself to feel these things. To let people in like that. I don't want to see him get hurt."
"I don't want to hurt him."
"I can tell. And truthfully, you do seem like a good person. You do. But sooner or later, we're going to be packing in it to go to Arizona for spring training. And from there, it's six months of baseball. Do you really want to wait that long?"
"I mean, I don't... I wasn't..."
"You should. They said that hit you got was real serious. Serious enough to kill you, if things had gone differently. Regrets are inevitable but is this one you want to keep, if you can do something about it?"
You don't say anything, staring down at your wine glass, where your lipstick has left a mulberry mark on the rim.
"That's all I ask," he says gently. "Just don't hurt him. Please."
"Hey, tomcat! There you are... Was worried you got lost in this place — oh, hey, Raul."
"Oh, hey, Raul. So disrespectful of your elders."
Kazuya laughs and you find yourself relaxing at the sound of it.
"Not my fault I prefer to see her face over yours," he says, smirking.
Raul rolls his eyes and you smile, ducking your head as your face warms.
"You two coming in here to sneak in the good stuff?" Kazuya asks next. "Seriously. This beer sucks. I mean, all beer sucks, but this one sucks extra."
Raul laughs.
"Shouldn't have let yourself be peer pressured into it," you say, scooting him your wine glass. "Finish it off. I'm good."
"I'll be outside," Raul chuckles, picking up his wine glass. "Help yourselves. There are some wine coolers in the fridge."
He steps out. Kazuya finishes your wine, then puts the glass in the sink, starting to wash it; now that you know he and Raul were closer than initially conveyed, you can see the ease with which he moves here.
"So, what happened?" he asks.
"Well... I met one of the kids. Penelope. Nice girl."
"Funny kid."
You chuckle, only imagining what his and her interactions must be like. He isn't... terrible with kids. You imagine with his profession, he can't be. A tad awkward with the little ones but better with the older ones.
"What else?"
At the sink, he sponges the inside of the glass, the soft side of the sponge squeaking a little against the glass; soapy bubbles spill over from his palm.
You cross your arms as you lean back against the counter, giving him a bashful smile that makes him raise an eyebrow.
"I snooped."
"Can't take you anywhere, can I."
You pout until he chuckles. "Alright, fine. What'd you snoop on?"
"The home theater."
Kazuya starts laughing.
"It's crazy. I mean... What?"
"I know," he laughs. "It's ridiculous, right?"
"It's... an interesting choice. Although I don't know if I can judge. If I had the opportunity for, like, a free room..."
"You'd want a studio?"
"What? No, I'd make Batman and Robin a bedroom."
He laughs, shutting off the water, setting the wine on a drying mat, and grabbing a dish towel to dry his hands.
"Raul's nice," you say.
"He's not half bad."
You smile and roll your eyes good-naturedly.
"He has a habit of making people introspective," he adds. "He just can't help himself. But I guess old people are just like that."
"Old people. Please. He's only thirty-nine. Besides... it's not so bad."
"No? Well, it did look like you two were having a pretty serious conversation," he says casually, turning to lean against the counter beside you. The heat of his body is palpable in the few inches between your bodies.
Serious is an understatement.
You're still thinking about it.
About everything you've been told.
By your sister, by Hector, by Raul.
A few things stand out.
One. He deserves to know. By this point, it isn't going to blow over, not since you know how he feels, too. There is a hole in your heart that he carved out and no one but him can fill it.
Two. He deserves to know now because in a little over a month from now, he will be heading to Arizona, not to return until March thirtieth.
Three. You have the opportunity. The chance. Right in front of you. Why not take it?
Maybe this will end in heartbreak. Maybe you'll walk away with that hole in your heart and it'll never be filled, not by anyone, not by him. But you said it before.
You can't live your life closed off to protect yourself. And you can't close off now, realizing how much he means to you. Scared at how much he means to you. But also in the position where you know you likely mean as much to him.
Enough for him to say something.
"I was given the shovel talk," you say at last. He let you stew in your silence for a minute. Maybe he can tell.
He grimaces. "Sorry. He doesn't — they don't —"
"No, no... it's okay. I'm glad you have people looking out for you like that."
"Yeah, but you're not..." he struggles for a second, lips pursing, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. "One. They worry too much. And two... you aren't going to do that."
But you did. But you will. But just because it might hurt right now, to know you didn't say anything, doesn't mean the rest of it will hurt, too.
It swells inside you with a hurricane force. You want to spill it all, tell him everything.
"Can we talk? Somewhere... private? Please?" You're this side of desperate.
He can tell, a little alarmed, a little... scared?
It flabbergasts you as he nods quickly and takes you by the hand. You can't even enjoy the feel of his hand in yours because of the confusion.
It hits you quickly, though, as you climb the stairs to the second floor.
How must it sound — for you to mention your shovel talk, then for him to say he believes you won't hurt him, and for you to ask to talk. Quite urgently.
Does he think you want to go back on your agreement to be friends?
This is... it's not that. It is, in a way, because you hope you can be more than friends but the core of you, that stays the same.
He is one of your best friends.
You'll always want that.
You don't say anything until you find the both of you inside one of the many guest rooms — a spacious thing, with a four-poster King-sized bed not unlike his own, with a large set of windows that overlook the backyard and the ocean.
"I still want to be friends," you say as soon as the door shuts behind him.
He turns, blinking at you.
"I mean... you don't have to worry about that. But the truth is, I've made a mistake. Not about being friends with you after... after. You know. But more in that... I didn't say anything when I should've."
He tenses, saying your name.
"It's true," you say, words forming faster than you can say them. "It's not just you, it was never just you because I... I really like you. I have for a while, I think."
Miyuki Kazuya, you think, is speechless. His eyes are wide, too, looking at you like...
You look away. Keep talking. You can't stop. You have to explain. He has to know why.
"You just caught me off-guard. You've never... I didn't expect that to happen. Not from you and it's not bad, it wasn't, it still remains... one of the nicest moments I've ever had but I was... stupid. I didn't say anything when I should've and then the time kept passing and I kept thinking you didn't deserve for my words to just be some kind of afterthought when they should've been spoken there.
"But then I realized that kind of thinking was useless. The time keeps passing. It always will and for me, it hasn't changed anything. My feelings are still as they are, maybe stronger, after everything. I was just so..." you slide a hand down your face, smiling faintly. "Surprised. I mean, in what universe..."
"In this one," Kazuya says, looking determined then, a ferocious kind of passion you've only seen in clips of him playing, but never directed at you. As though you are something he is passionate about.
But you should know better. You are passionate about him. You know, then, that he is passionate about you, too.
Two-way street.
What a stunning kind of absolute.
It's the kind that makes you want to reach for him, pull him into your arms.
He takes a step toward you. Your heart speeds up.
He says your name. "It's this universe. This one. And if my multiversal selves have any kind of common sense, they'd find you, too."
"Kazuya..."
Another step. His face is a shade hesitant now. Uncertain. It makes him younger.
"Do you... You mean that."
"Every word," you whisper. "I understand if you're... upset I held back this long."
"I had a feeling," he murmurs. "That you were feeling it, too. It... it gave me hope. I would've waited."
"You don't need to."
His hands cup your face. The brush of his warm calloused hands against the softness of your face is dizzying. The look in his eyes is tender. You feel like you might buckle from the weight of it.
"Can I ask you something else?"
A nod.
"Can I kiss you?"
"Yes," you whisper, and in the next moment, his lips are on yours.
You turn into a puddle of goo in his hands, everything inside you shivering at the touch of his lips to yours, so warm and so soft.
The first press is exploratory. A discovery in the making.
Everything after that is so much more certain. A promise, a vow.
His hands leave your face, one coming to your waist, the other sliding around to the back of your neck, keeping you there as he kisses you, pressing, insistent. Like he's trying to take in as much of you as you can.
You shiver, sliding your arms around his neck, one of your hands finding its place in his hair. Silky soft strands glide through your fingers. He tugs you closer. Closer and closer until there is no space between you, until your very atoms might be intermingling, too.
The heat of him bleeds into you. The smell of his shampoo overwhelming.
The fact that you're here, that this is him.
Your lips part. He shivers this time.
A sound.
"Miyuki, you can't just hide — Jesus Christ!"
The two of you wrench apart, heads snapping to the source of the voice.
Wendy stands in the doorway, her eyes wide. The shock leaves her quickly. "Oh my god, look at the state of you two! Stay here. Do not go back out. I'll be back."
The door shuts before you two can say anything else.
Look at the state of — you two can't look that bad. You didn't do much. Your hands did find their way to his hair but that's —
You look at each other at the same time.
"Oh, god," you say.
His lips are tinted mulberry, more smeared around his mouth.
Kazuya starts laughing. "You, too!"
You join his laughter, listing into him. His body shakes with it.
You laugh and laugh and laugh, arms wrapped around one another, and it's like a puzzle piece sliding into place, the last one of the set, a masterpiece before your eyes.
Considering you know a thing or two about puzzles... you know what you're talking about.
-
[Night Owl Transcript — 20:15 — 1/16/2023]
[Metric's "Eclipse (All Yours)" plays]
Tear me down, they can't take you out of my thoughts
Under every scar, there's a battle I've lost
Will they stop when they see us again?
I can't stop, now I know who I am
Now I'm all yours, I'm not afraid
And you're all mine, say what they may
And all your love, I'll take to the grave
And all my life starts
[Off-air recording starts]
Mouser: I guess that explains that?
Tee: I love you, Mouser.
Mouser: [Laughing] I love you, too, Tee.
-
"Oh, but we have to get on Batman! Batman and Robin would want me to!"
Kazuya hoists the backpack with your belongings on his back, eyeing you.
"You know, if they could talk, I don't think that's what they would say."
Pop music plays faintly from the speakers. A Bastille song, you think. Dominating over it is the sound of thrilled screams and the mechanical rapid fire click of rollercoasters.
Despite being late January — exactly three months since your concussion — Valencia, California is unusually warm, the sun shining down on you, a cooler breeze accompanying it. Nothing uncomfortable, though. You whipped out your jean shorts for it, along with a black t-shirt with the Batman symbol on the breast. Your crew socks match. You're just wearing a pair of comfortable sneakers, though. No Docs. That'd probably kill your feet, with all the walking you're going to do today. It's finished with your usual black cherry lip lacquer. You've gotten several compliments on your outfit. You're pleased.
Six Flags Magic Mountain is busy but not as busy as it gets during the height of the summer. The warm temperatures teased out a few more people but it's still an awkward time of the year and an awkward time of the week — a Wednesday.
Not that it matters much to you. Kazuya bought both of you the FLASH Pass add-ons for your already-expensive tickets, that way you don't have to wait in line for too long. You can't say you disagree. Lines can be two hours long or more sometimes. It would be disappointing to walk away having only ridden, like, five rides because of that.
No, the only way you're walking out with such a low number is if your head starts bothering you.
Which, several hours into this trip, a couple rides under your belt, is fine.
Even Kazuya is a good sport about all of it. He resolutely refuses to open his eyes on any of the rides, as well as let go and generally make any noise, but that's fine. You can tell he's actually having some fun, even with that.
"No," you say, taking his hand and starting for Batman: the Ride. "They would say, like, thank you for everything you have done for us, Tee, we love you. And then they would say that."
"Well, let's still not pretend like going on Batman isn't this trip's primary purpose."
"True!"
Valencia is only a three hour drive from San Diego. Well. Four with traffic.
Still, you'd decided it would be best to spend the night here instead of making yourselves brave the drive back.
Everything is perfect, regardless. He'll be leaving soon, but you aren't so worried about it anymore, now that you've talked and settled everything. Peoria is only about five and a half hours from San Diego. You don't mind making the drive for a weekend trip or something. Plus, they have a Waffle House there, and you've always wanted to go.
"So, you're going for Waffle House. Not for me. You know. Your boyfriend," Kazuya had said when you mentioned that.
You'd just laughed and said, "I can go for both things! They are not mutually exclusive."
And despite his blustering, he would never say no to you visiting him during the time that he'll be gone, so, it's settled. You'll visit for Waffle House and your boyfriend.
Even now, a few weeks after that night at the house, thinking that way about him sends a pleasant zing up your spine. Your hand tightens on his before you let go so you can hook your arm in his, sides pressed together.
You lean your head on his shoulder, head tilted up with a smile as you pass the archway with DC UNIVERSE written at the top, marking your entrance into this themed sector of the park with all the superhero rides.
You explore the themed buildings a bit, finding a statue of Batman at one point, which you need a picture with.
"Hey, we passed a Wonder Woman one. You didn't want to take one with her, too?"
"It would be a disservice to stand next to her with my Batman merch," you say. "Make sure you get my socks, please!"
He backs up accordingly. "I thought Batman and Wonder Woman were friends."
"As much as anyone can be friends with Batman," you snort, then beam as he lifts his phone.
"Batman and I have that in common," he says.
You laugh.
"Don't laugh!"
He pouts about it all the way to the entrance to the ride, which is an archway that says Gotham City Park. It should really be Robinson Park, if they wanted to be accurate, but you guess the notoriety of Gotham City needs to be emphasized more. The wall near it has a carved stone Batman emblem, with THE RIDE underneath. You make him take another picture of you in front of it, then enter the queue.
"You know, it has me thinking," he says.
The queue is outside, snaking through a park. Since you're in the FLASH pass line, you easily bypass the long lines of people. Soon enough, the queue enters into a fake sewer tunnel.
"What has you thinking?"
You run into a small line near the stairs. Voices echo, bouncing off the cement walls. No one notices you two. Kazuya is 'incognito' with a black ballcap with the Wonder Woman logo on it. You bought it for him when you got here and he faithfully exchanged his Padres cap for it.
Funnily enough, by the point you two realized you were not just going to be friends, the press had started to let go of those dating rumors, turning their eyes onto something else.
It gave you some peace but it also meant you two had to be careful how you acted when going out. And that got tiring pretty quickly.
Tomorrow, they're planning on releasing a statement breaking the news about your relationship. So, today, you get to be as affectionate as you'd like. Any questions would soon be answered.
"So... for you and Jerry, you say he's the Donna Troy to your Dick Grayson."
"Yeeees?"
He looks a tad petulant as he asks, "Well, what about us?"
You smile. "That's easy. You're the Lois Lane to my Clark Kent."
"What about Batman and Catwoman? Talia?" He stresses the last name knowing how much you like her, and her and Bruce's dynamic.
"Bruce and Talia are more like a divorced couple. And Bruce and Selina aren't much better." You pat his shoulder. "Batman has no healthy romantic relationships. No healthy relationships, period, to be honest. That's just how he is."
Kazuya thinks about this for a second. "You know... yeah. Yeah. That's fair. Why am I Lois Lane, though?"
"Do you really consider yourself Clark Kent?"
He laughs. "Fair enough, tomcat."
-
[Night Owl Transcript — 20:04 — 1/27/2023]
Tee: Wheeew, the switchboard is going crazy. Guys, take a chill pill. Now, instead of hundreds of you asking questions about my love life, why don't we focus on the fact that it's romanticize-your-life Friday? Everyone, have a great evening. Let the romanticizing commence.
[Florence + the Machine's "Dog Days Are Over" plays]
And I never wanted anything from you
Except everything you had and what was left after that too, oh
Happiness hit her like a bullet in the back
Struck from a great height by someone who should know better than that
The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses?
'Cause here they come
-
"You want to blindfold me? I'm not against the idea but we've barely gotten to third base. I feel like we should wait a little longer before we start exploring that stuff..."
The tips of his ears turn red. He pinches your cheek. "That's not what this is for."
"Okay, so, what is it for?"
"It's a surprise."
Well, you could've guessed that, considering you're sitting in his car in front of your apartment and not, you know, in the bedroom. You'd just wanted to give him a little bit of hell.
"Is this a Valentine's thing?" you ask as he wraps the blindfold over your eyes.
Kazuya pauses.
You grin. "You just realized it's in three days, didn't you?"
He coughs. "In Japan, men don't do anything for Valentine's. The women do. White Day, March fourteenth, is our time. So."
"Well, we don't have to do anything regardless. I know you're leaving the day after."
"No, it's fine. This is... Yeah. Guess it's a gift. Sort of."
"Sort of. How romantic."
He pinches your side. You laugh.
"Brat," he mutters, pressing a fleeting kiss to your mouth.
Your hands come up to his shoulders.
"Hm," he says as he pulls away. "You know... maybe —"
"Don't start. It's too late for that. Show me the surprise."
"Later?"
"Focus, Lane."
"I'm very focused, Kent."
You grin, grab his hand to press a kiss there, then sit back in your seat.
"Let's see what this is all about, then."
"Right."
A nervous kind of energy fills the car. You hear him shift back into drive, then you're back on the road. One of your playlists you shared with him plays from the speakers. You hum along to it, tapping the beat on your thigh.
You drive for some time. Twenty to twenty-five minutes. But eventually, he's pulling the car into park, shutting it off, and telling you to wait.
His door opens and closes. A second later, yours opens.
You take his hand, carefully pulling yourself out of the car. Hard ground meets your Docs. He tugs you further away, then shuts the passenger door. A cool breeze skitters across your skin. A car passes somewhere behind you. You sniff the air. It smells like —
Fingers tug at the knot at the back of your head. The blindfold loosens.
You blink the blurriness out of your eyes. The pink and orange sky greets you, the sun starting to set. In front of you is a two-story condo. The exterior is painted a soft shade of blue. More homes sit on either side.
He pulls you up the set of stairs that lead to a tiny porch, fishing out a key from his pocket.
"Wait... is this yours?"
You knew he'd been house-hunting. He never said much about it, other than that he was still considering his options.
The inside is open and spacious. A set of stairs lead up to the second floor. Everything looks new.
"Needed to get a place eventually," he says. "But, yeah. Had it furnished. Needs decorations, though, for the walls and stuff. Thought you could help with that..."
You smile, knowing he's talking about the puzzles. "Of course."
It's a three bedroom, three bath. He doesn't lead you upstairs, but further in.
A dining room is set off beside the kitchen, which shares an open plan with the living room in front of it. A bay window sits near the dining room. A sliding glass door leads outside, to a —
The door opens. The saltiness of the ocean hits you immediately.
You follow him out, shoes thumping against the wooden deck, which has an outdoor grilling area, a table, and then a pool.
It overlooks South Mission Beach. Just sprawling sandy beaches and foamy tides, waves crashing against the shoreline.
"Kazuya?"
You aren't sure. Did he really...
He shrugs, smiling a little. "You said beachfront properties were the best, especially if they had a pool deck, since the ocean was cold most of the year. And if anything, you get nice sunsets. I thought about it for a while and I think you were right."
So it isn't a coincidence the sun is starting its descent right this moment.
"Kazuya..."
His arms come around you, pulling you into his chest. "You can stay here while I'm gone. Enjoy this stuff since I won't be here to. I'm not asking you to move in yet but... it's yours, too."
You duck your head, hiding your smile in his collar. "But do you like it?"
He rests his chin on your head, hand stroking up and down your back.
He says your name, syllables wrapped in warmth. "Truthfully, at the risk of sounding cheesy, as long as you're here, anywhere is fine. I would even be okay with your crappy little apartment."
You laugh.
"But I don't know..." he presses his lips to your head. "Maybe next year, Batman and Robin will get to see their home."
You smile. The two of you are swaying a little. Back and forth. Back and forth. You can hear the waves from here.
"Hopeful for the future?"
"You already know the answer to that."
Yeah.
You do.
[Hozier's "All Things End" plays]
And all things end
All that we intend is built on sand
Slips right through our hands
And just knowing
That everything will end
Won't change our plans
When we begin again
━━━━━━ author's note
(yes i did use that one twilight end credits song here And?)
in any case i hope you guys enjoyed! this was a lot of fun and if you couldn't tell already, the title and chapter titles are all from mary oliver's poem, dogfish, which was fully complete in the beginning notes of this part.
i'll take the moment to shamelessly promote my other miyuki/reader fics
currently in progress, won't turn back, is a massive long-form fic that follows reader working as a ballgirl for the seattle mariners. miyuki gets traded to the mariners and Many shenanigans ensue. it is a very, very slow burn and also focuses considerably on friendship and intense platonic relationships (most notably with eijun) but no worries, romance will occur eventually. if that floats your boat, check it out ^_^
another fic that i just posted, wolves without teeth, is a really really fun spider-man fusion au, but it is the reader that has the spider powers and moonlights as spider-woman. it also features childhood friends to lovers, a small sprinkle of a love triangle, and a considerable amount of angst what with the double-life and all. this takes place when they are in college as well. if that sounds interesting, check it out ^_^
in any case, thank you guys for reading! i hope you all had as much fun as i did writing this :]