[Ookiku Furikabutte] Mihashi and Touch
Title: Mihashi and Touch
Author: Icka! M. Chif
Rating: General
Word Count: 587
Author's Note: Written this morning while waiting to start set-up at this weekend's Bridal Show. Haven't checked for grammar, I'm dead on my feet. er, butt. Sitting, sitting good. *dieeeeeeees* Last of the three 'Mihashi and-' fics.
Summary: Mihashi wasn't used to being touched.
+++
Mihashi wasn't used to being touched.
Well, he was used to -touch-, hugs by his mother and father, tugs and pulls by Ruri, pats on the head from his Grandfather, but that was family.
He wasn't used to his team-mates touching him.
In Middle School, in Mihoshi, the most contact he got from his team-mates was when Hatake tried to break his arm. The rest of the time, they were content to leave him alone and just talk about him when he was supposedly out of ear shot. Or sometimes in ear shot.
He'd thought it was normal. He'd tried to leave baseball and team-mates behind.
And then he found Nishiura. Or more appropriately, the Nishiura baseball team found him. Momokan grabbed his arm and pulled him into the group. Literally, into the group.
His team-mates... before they were a team... they'd smiled at him.
They all slept together, the first week, sharing futons, crammed together in a room that really was only made for a few people.
Even if he hadn't had trouble falling asleep because of nerves, his various team-mates' breathing in his ear would have kept him up. Not to mention that Mizutani snored, Oki drooled and Izumi groped people in his sleep. He completely denied it, of course, and blamed Tajima, but everyone knew it was him.
And then they'd played Mihoshi and he'd run into Hatake again. He'd been scared, expecting everything that had happened in middle school to come back, a repeat of the previous three years, but it hadn't. Instead, Abe held his hand.
That was the first time anyone had held his hand. And told him that they liked him.
Liked Mihashi.
He liked Pitching, throwing the ball. He liked Pitching with Abe. Pitching to Abe.
He liked Abe. And then Abe had dragged him back to the dugout and patted his shoulder and told him that it was fine when he was afraid of going up against Kanou, who really was a good Pitcher.
He hadn't expected it when he was tapped on the shoulder with a glove and told 'Nice Pitching'. He'd nearly jumped out of his skin, afraid of the blow, only to discover that it wasn't. It was a friendly gesture.
Just like it was when Tajima physically dragged him back to the dugout with a determined grin and a friendly suffocating arm around his neck.
Which had been followed by more pats, not just with gloves, but with hands. And head ruffles.
And occasionally Momokan squeezing his head like it was a pamelo when he was a little slow. And Abe's head too, which made it better because then it wasn't just him, alone.
After a while he got used to the casual touches, the pats on the shoulder, the arm draped around his neck and he stopped flinching or jumping out of his skin. He'd join in when Izumi started the chant 'One, Two, Three - NICE BATTING!"
And always, always, Abe holding his hand. He kind of liked that, once he got used to Abe's demand for his hand. No one else, not even the rest of his team-mates held his hand. Just Abe.
Once it stopped being a strange thing, he started reaching out. He couldn't quite manage Tajima's head glomps, but he could join in on the pats and the group hugs when they won. Being inside of each other's personal space meant being part of the team.
Being part of the team meant touching.
Mihashi found he liked that.
-fin-
Author: Icka! M. Chif
Rating: General
Word Count: 587
Author's Note: Written this morning while waiting to start set-up at this weekend's Bridal Show. Haven't checked for grammar, I'm dead on my feet. er, butt. Sitting, sitting good. *dieeeeeeees* Last of the three 'Mihashi and-' fics.
Summary: Mihashi wasn't used to being touched.
+++
Mihashi wasn't used to being touched.
Well, he was used to -touch-, hugs by his mother and father, tugs and pulls by Ruri, pats on the head from his Grandfather, but that was family.
He wasn't used to his team-mates touching him.
In Middle School, in Mihoshi, the most contact he got from his team-mates was when Hatake tried to break his arm. The rest of the time, they were content to leave him alone and just talk about him when he was supposedly out of ear shot. Or sometimes in ear shot.
He'd thought it was normal. He'd tried to leave baseball and team-mates behind.
And then he found Nishiura. Or more appropriately, the Nishiura baseball team found him. Momokan grabbed his arm and pulled him into the group. Literally, into the group.
His team-mates... before they were a team... they'd smiled at him.
They all slept together, the first week, sharing futons, crammed together in a room that really was only made for a few people.
Even if he hadn't had trouble falling asleep because of nerves, his various team-mates' breathing in his ear would have kept him up. Not to mention that Mizutani snored, Oki drooled and Izumi groped people in his sleep. He completely denied it, of course, and blamed Tajima, but everyone knew it was him.
And then they'd played Mihoshi and he'd run into Hatake again. He'd been scared, expecting everything that had happened in middle school to come back, a repeat of the previous three years, but it hadn't. Instead, Abe held his hand.
That was the first time anyone had held his hand. And told him that they liked him.
Liked Mihashi.
He liked Pitching, throwing the ball. He liked Pitching with Abe. Pitching to Abe.
He liked Abe. And then Abe had dragged him back to the dugout and patted his shoulder and told him that it was fine when he was afraid of going up against Kanou, who really was a good Pitcher.
He hadn't expected it when he was tapped on the shoulder with a glove and told 'Nice Pitching'. He'd nearly jumped out of his skin, afraid of the blow, only to discover that it wasn't. It was a friendly gesture.
Just like it was when Tajima physically dragged him back to the dugout with a determined grin and a friendly suffocating arm around his neck.
Which had been followed by more pats, not just with gloves, but with hands. And head ruffles.
And occasionally Momokan squeezing his head like it was a pamelo when he was a little slow. And Abe's head too, which made it better because then it wasn't just him, alone.
After a while he got used to the casual touches, the pats on the shoulder, the arm draped around his neck and he stopped flinching or jumping out of his skin. He'd join in when Izumi started the chant 'One, Two, Three - NICE BATTING!"
And always, always, Abe holding his hand. He kind of liked that, once he got used to Abe's demand for his hand. No one else, not even the rest of his team-mates held his hand. Just Abe.
Once it stopped being a strange thing, he started reaching out. He couldn't quite manage Tajima's head glomps, but he could join in on the pats and the group hugs when they won. Being inside of each other's personal space meant being part of the team.
Being part of the team meant touching.
Mihashi found he liked that.
-fin-