Ookiku Furikabutte, "Physical Therapy, part i," Abe/Mihashi, PG-13
I mostly (almost exclusively) write from Abe's POV because, frankly, he's my favorite character and I find him very, very easy (and fun oh god) to write.
This is a challenge to see if I could write the same arc from Mihashi's POV. I wrote it for myself, mostly, but I hope that others will enjoy it.
The original series can be found here: part i • part ii • part iii
And the Mihashi-POV sequel here: part i • part ii • part iii
Physical Therapy
part i
by mistr3ss Quickly
Nishiura is going to Koushien, and it's all Mihashi's fault.
That's what Abe says, what the team says, after they've won the last game standing between them and playing in the finals. That they wouldn't've made it half as far as they did if it hadn't been for Mihashi's pitching. Wouldn't have the chance they've got at winning at Koushien if it weren't for Mihashi's control, Mihashi's dedication. Wouldn't have the fan-following they've got if it weren't for the hours of practice Mihashi's put in, the strength he's developed. The speed of his pitches, nearly double what it was when Mihashi first joined the team.
Mihashi argues with them, of course. Tries to, anyway. It's not just because of him, he tries to say. It's because of Tajima's batting and Abe's strategies. Because of Hanai's leadership and Hamada's support. Because of Momokan's coaching and everyone's hard work and their parents' encouragement.
But he's tired from the game and kind of maybe a little bit nervous because Abe's standing next to him, close enough that he can feel the heat coming off of him, so his words don't come out very clearly and his voice isn't very loud so Abe's the only one who hears him, and when Abe asks him to repeat himself, leaning close enough to hear what Mihashi's saying, Mihashi's brain freezes up and snags on itself, leaving him with nothing but broken sounds to fill his catcher's ear, Abe's patience running out well before Mihashi's managed to get his tongue back under control again.
He goes home that evening to a big meal and a long soak in the bath, replays the last inning of the game over and over in his head after he's said goodnight to his mom and curled up in bed, one of the baseballs he keeps under his pillow gripped tightly in his hand. He closes his eyes and lets the excitement of the game wash over him, the memory of Abe's smile when the team ran out onto the field to celebrate their victory making his stomach feel warm, squirming happily under his ribs.
Abe isn't going to smile at him, later. He'll be angry. Probably yell at him.
Because qualifying for Koushien means getting a physical, means going to the doctor to get a physical. Means walking into the doctor's clinic and answering questions about why he stutters when he answers questions and why he doesn't sleep enough and why he's losing weight. Means not sleeping well for a few nights afterwards, lying to his mom when she starts talking about making him go to another doctor like the first doctor said he should. A doctor to figure out why he's strange. Why he's anxious all the time. Why he doesn't have any friends.
Which he does, now, but won't after he tells them he's not going to pitch at Koushien. Can't pitch at Koushien.
Not without a physical.
He has trouble falling asleep, that night. Doesn't sleep well even then.
Which means he's not feeling great when he arrives for practice the following morning, feels worse after meditation because Momokan passes out the formal instructions for all players participating in a match at Koushien, the bit about the required physical highlighted in bright green, right there on the first page. He feels worse when Hanai asks him what's wrong, stutters too much trying to lie, to say there's nothing wrong. It takes him long enough that Abe's snuck up behind him just about the time he's got his mouth cooperating enough to ask Hanai what he thinks might happen if someone didn't get a physical in time for the match at Koushien, which means a frown from Hanai and Abe raising his voice because that's what Abe does when he's worried about something, not bullying like Hanai says he is when he tells Abe to put a cork in it.
"Why would someone not get a physical?" Hanai says. Being diplomatic. Patient.
Makes Mihashi feel downright awful because he doesn't have an answer for him. Doesn't even have one for himself.
He scampers back onto the field to pitch with Tajima when Momokan catches him talking with Hanai and Abe and raises her voice enough to get even Abe to drop the subject and go back to practicing. Keeps his eyes downcast after practice, doing his best to avoid the glare he's sure Abe's got for him. Escapes to class without anyone asking him anything about anything, his skin prickling nonetheless for a solid half hour after lecture begins.
By the time school lets out for the day, his stomach hurts. Kind of. Not enough for him to skip his meal when he gets home because skipping a meal would be Bad. He eats first and second helpings, enough that his stomach hurts in a completely different way by the time he's asking to be excused from the table and trudging down the hall to have his bath.
His phone clucks like a chicken just as he's taking off his boxers, alerting him to a new mail. He steps onto the scale as he opens his phone, answers the mail from Abe with a list of what he ate for dinner and the weight registering on the dial between his feet. Isn't really expecting that to satisfy his catcher, his phone clucking again before he's had a chance to sneak off to hide from it in the bathing room.
About the physical exam, Abe's mail reads. You can't pitch at Koushien if you don't have it done.
Mihashi sighs. He knows that already.
He sends an apology to his catcher, in response. It won't make Abe feel better. Probably just make him mad.
Mihashi knows that, too.
He's in the bathing room, safely on the other side of the glass door from his phone, when it clucks at him, signaling Abe's response. He's scrubbing the dirt from the field out of his hair when it clucks again, Abe getting impatient with him for not answering. Which is bad but he doesn't have an answer for his catcher, can't promise him he'll get a physical if the promise is a lie, which it would be.
He doesn't spend much time in the bath. Doesn't sleep well when he goes to bed.
Which means he has trouble waking up in the morning, has trouble getting to practice early like he usually does. Means he's not there early enough to tell Abe that he's sorry about Koushien, sorrier than anyone's ever been about anything before ever, but that's all right because Abe grabs his hand and drags him into the boys' bathroom on the first floor the minute practice is over, looking all kinds of upset because Mihashi hasn't answered his mail yet even though Mihashi knows how much that upsets him, and that just makes Mihashi feel rotten.
The thought that Abe's skipping class because of him makes him feel even worse. His own grades are pathetic, always have been and always will be, but Abe's smart, a really good student. For him to miss class because of Mihashi-
"W-we should be in class," he says, doing his best to meet his catcher's eyes because Abe likes it when he makes eye-contact and doesn't fidget.
"Then answer my question," Abe says.
He hasn't asked any questions. Doesn't look best pleased when Mihashi asks him for a repeat.
"We all have to have physicals in order to play at Koushien," Abe says. "You're one of our most important players. You're also the only one who's unwilling to get a physical. As your catcher and your teammate, I need to know why."
Oh. That question. The one Mihashi didn't answer over email the night before.
"That's not an answer," Abe says when Mihashi tries to apologize for not answering his mail.
"I can't-"
"Why not?"
Because. So many reasons. Too many. Mihashi gets the first word out. Feels his throat close on the rest.
Abe waits. Repeats the question when Mihashi doesn't say anything.
"D-doctor," Mihashi says. It's not much of an answer, but it's better than nothing. Seems to make Abe happy, his glare lifting just a little bit.
"Doctors?" he says. "What about them?"
So much. Too much. "Don't like them," comes out.
Not nearly enough.
Enough that Abe almost stops glaring at him altogether, though. Almost. "No one likes going to the doctor," he says. "But ... you have one you go to when you get sick. Right?"
Mihashi shakes his head, hard enough that it makes him dizzy. He doesn't get sick. Just like Abe. He doesn't get injured, either, but that hasn't happened to Abe since their first year, so it doesn't count.
"I don't," he says. "G-get sick."
"A physical doesn't mean you're sick," Abe says. "It's more of a way to document that you're healthy." The frown's back. Deep enough to count as a frown, anyway. Not just Abe's usual expression. "Haven't you ever had one before?"
He has. Had to have one before the coach at Mihoshi would let him play.
It was awful.
Which must show on his face or something because Abe reaches out and holds his hand like he does before they play ball, squeezes hard enough that some of the anxiety Mihashi feels coiling like a snake in his gut lightens up. His hands are warm, warmer than Mihashi's. Feel strong, solid. Familiar.
"S-scary," he says.
"What, me?"
Abe is many things. Scary isn't one of them. Never has been.
"The doctor."
"So go to a different doctor."
If only it were that simple. Like speaking up or not stuttering or not getting nervous and losing weight. All equally impossible.
"Go to my doctor," Abe says. "He's not scary."
Which sounds good. But if it's Abe's doctor and he thinks Mihashi's strange and he tells Abe that Mihashi's strange, then-
"I don't-"
"You can't pitch at Koushien if you don't get a physical done," Abe interrupts. "The physical takes twenty minutes. At most. It won't hurt. Just get an appointment and get it over with."
"But what if-"
The bathroom door opens, saving Mihashi from the struggle of continuing that line of thought. He pulls his hands back, fast enough that the guy coming in maybe won't think Abe's weird for holding hands with another guy in the bathroom. Hurries out into the hall just in case, pleased that Abe follows him out without needing Mihashi to ask him to.
Only Abe says tells Mihashi to go to class before Mihashi has a chance to say anything. Says: "We'll talk about this more later."
Which doesn't sound all that great, but talking with Abe is always kind of fun, always makes Things Work Out, so Mihashi nods and goes to class like Abe told him to. He stutters so much when his teacher asks him why he's late that he gets out of giving an excuse, gets to go sit down at his desk and hide behind his books until his classmates aren't looking at him funny anymore.
He doesn't pay attention very well for the rest of the day. Misses probably half the notes he should've been taking, but that doesn't matter. Abe will help him fill in the blanks when they study together, help him memorize the material well enough that it'll stick when he needs it.
If he's still interested in helping Mihashi study. If Mihashi's grades still matter, even after he leaves the team before their big match at Koushien.
The thought makes Mihashi sick to his stomach.
He eats only one serving of dinner that evening after school, does a sloppy job of his homework. Has nightmares all night, vague dreams that dissipate before he's able to wake up fully but leave him sweaty and tense, his heart pounding.
He's being a bother to Abe. Always has been. But this time, Abe needs to be able to concentrate, to focus on getting ready to play at Koushien. If Mihashi's a distraction, a bother ...
It'd be best for him to not be around, he decides. Best for the team. Best for Abe.
So he spends the rest of the week doing his best to be invisible, finds it to be considerably more difficult at Nishiura than it was at Mihoshi. He takes the long route to school to keep from bumping into any of his teammates, shows up just barely in time for stretching and meditation. Goes to school early, still sweaty where he didn't clean up properly before changing into his uniform, but that's all right, nothing a round of laundry won't fix, and better than risking Tajima talking to him in the clubhouse, Abe coming over to consult him about their pitching strategy. He slips out the minute the final bell rings for the day, takes a different route home. One he's sure Abe wouldn't take.
It works fine for a few days. Gets him a severe look from Abe and a worried look from Hanai by Friday, but it works, at least. Makes him feel funny, kind of like his chest has been hollowed out, but he felt like that plenty when he was younger and got used to it. Figures he'll get used to this, too.
The mail he gets from Abe, Friday night, doesn't help. Makes it worse, actually, because Abe's invited him over to study on Sunday and the prospect of going over to Abe's house to study like he used to do when he was still a part of the team-a real part of the team-brings up all kinds of things Mihashi's pretty sure he shouldn't be feeling, not if he wants to separate himself from his team, from his catcher.
He starts to send back I can't, I'm sorry, but that's a lie and he's never, ever been very good at lying to Abe. He tried that a bunch of times when they were freshmen, but Abe always knew when he was lying, always called him out on it. So he sends back okay and sneaks out to pitch some in the back yard because pitching calms him down, helps him clear his mind. Does his best not to think about Abe or Sunday or just how badly he wants to pitch to Abe at Koushien while he practices, doesn't do a very good job of pitching or thinking or not thinking or calming down at all.
He pitches 'til his arm aches. Goes to bed exhausted, wishing idly as he falls asleep that Abe were there to rub his shoulder and tell him everything's going to be okay and lie close to him like he did at summer camp, close enough for Mihashi to fall asleep listening to him breathe.
part ii >>
This is a challenge to see if I could write the same arc from Mihashi's POV. I wrote it for myself, mostly, but I hope that others will enjoy it.
The original series can be found here: part i • part ii • part iii
And the Mihashi-POV sequel here: part i • part ii • part iii
Physical Therapy
part i
by mistr3ss Quickly
Nishiura is going to Koushien, and it's all Mihashi's fault.
That's what Abe says, what the team says, after they've won the last game standing between them and playing in the finals. That they wouldn't've made it half as far as they did if it hadn't been for Mihashi's pitching. Wouldn't have the chance they've got at winning at Koushien if it weren't for Mihashi's control, Mihashi's dedication. Wouldn't have the fan-following they've got if it weren't for the hours of practice Mihashi's put in, the strength he's developed. The speed of his pitches, nearly double what it was when Mihashi first joined the team.
Mihashi argues with them, of course. Tries to, anyway. It's not just because of him, he tries to say. It's because of Tajima's batting and Abe's strategies. Because of Hanai's leadership and Hamada's support. Because of Momokan's coaching and everyone's hard work and their parents' encouragement.
But he's tired from the game and kind of maybe a little bit nervous because Abe's standing next to him, close enough that he can feel the heat coming off of him, so his words don't come out very clearly and his voice isn't very loud so Abe's the only one who hears him, and when Abe asks him to repeat himself, leaning close enough to hear what Mihashi's saying, Mihashi's brain freezes up and snags on itself, leaving him with nothing but broken sounds to fill his catcher's ear, Abe's patience running out well before Mihashi's managed to get his tongue back under control again.
He goes home that evening to a big meal and a long soak in the bath, replays the last inning of the game over and over in his head after he's said goodnight to his mom and curled up in bed, one of the baseballs he keeps under his pillow gripped tightly in his hand. He closes his eyes and lets the excitement of the game wash over him, the memory of Abe's smile when the team ran out onto the field to celebrate their victory making his stomach feel warm, squirming happily under his ribs.
Abe isn't going to smile at him, later. He'll be angry. Probably yell at him.
Because qualifying for Koushien means getting a physical, means going to the doctor to get a physical. Means walking into the doctor's clinic and answering questions about why he stutters when he answers questions and why he doesn't sleep enough and why he's losing weight. Means not sleeping well for a few nights afterwards, lying to his mom when she starts talking about making him go to another doctor like the first doctor said he should. A doctor to figure out why he's strange. Why he's anxious all the time. Why he doesn't have any friends.
Which he does, now, but won't after he tells them he's not going to pitch at Koushien. Can't pitch at Koushien.
Not without a physical.
He has trouble falling asleep, that night. Doesn't sleep well even then.
Which means he's not feeling great when he arrives for practice the following morning, feels worse after meditation because Momokan passes out the formal instructions for all players participating in a match at Koushien, the bit about the required physical highlighted in bright green, right there on the first page. He feels worse when Hanai asks him what's wrong, stutters too much trying to lie, to say there's nothing wrong. It takes him long enough that Abe's snuck up behind him just about the time he's got his mouth cooperating enough to ask Hanai what he thinks might happen if someone didn't get a physical in time for the match at Koushien, which means a frown from Hanai and Abe raising his voice because that's what Abe does when he's worried about something, not bullying like Hanai says he is when he tells Abe to put a cork in it.
"Why would someone not get a physical?" Hanai says. Being diplomatic. Patient.
Makes Mihashi feel downright awful because he doesn't have an answer for him. Doesn't even have one for himself.
He scampers back onto the field to pitch with Tajima when Momokan catches him talking with Hanai and Abe and raises her voice enough to get even Abe to drop the subject and go back to practicing. Keeps his eyes downcast after practice, doing his best to avoid the glare he's sure Abe's got for him. Escapes to class without anyone asking him anything about anything, his skin prickling nonetheless for a solid half hour after lecture begins.
By the time school lets out for the day, his stomach hurts. Kind of. Not enough for him to skip his meal when he gets home because skipping a meal would be Bad. He eats first and second helpings, enough that his stomach hurts in a completely different way by the time he's asking to be excused from the table and trudging down the hall to have his bath.
His phone clucks like a chicken just as he's taking off his boxers, alerting him to a new mail. He steps onto the scale as he opens his phone, answers the mail from Abe with a list of what he ate for dinner and the weight registering on the dial between his feet. Isn't really expecting that to satisfy his catcher, his phone clucking again before he's had a chance to sneak off to hide from it in the bathing room.
About the physical exam, Abe's mail reads. You can't pitch at Koushien if you don't have it done.
Mihashi sighs. He knows that already.
He sends an apology to his catcher, in response. It won't make Abe feel better. Probably just make him mad.
Mihashi knows that, too.
He's in the bathing room, safely on the other side of the glass door from his phone, when it clucks at him, signaling Abe's response. He's scrubbing the dirt from the field out of his hair when it clucks again, Abe getting impatient with him for not answering. Which is bad but he doesn't have an answer for his catcher, can't promise him he'll get a physical if the promise is a lie, which it would be.
He doesn't spend much time in the bath. Doesn't sleep well when he goes to bed.
Which means he has trouble waking up in the morning, has trouble getting to practice early like he usually does. Means he's not there early enough to tell Abe that he's sorry about Koushien, sorrier than anyone's ever been about anything before ever, but that's all right because Abe grabs his hand and drags him into the boys' bathroom on the first floor the minute practice is over, looking all kinds of upset because Mihashi hasn't answered his mail yet even though Mihashi knows how much that upsets him, and that just makes Mihashi feel rotten.
The thought that Abe's skipping class because of him makes him feel even worse. His own grades are pathetic, always have been and always will be, but Abe's smart, a really good student. For him to miss class because of Mihashi-
"W-we should be in class," he says, doing his best to meet his catcher's eyes because Abe likes it when he makes eye-contact and doesn't fidget.
"Then answer my question," Abe says.
He hasn't asked any questions. Doesn't look best pleased when Mihashi asks him for a repeat.
"We all have to have physicals in order to play at Koushien," Abe says. "You're one of our most important players. You're also the only one who's unwilling to get a physical. As your catcher and your teammate, I need to know why."
Oh. That question. The one Mihashi didn't answer over email the night before.
"That's not an answer," Abe says when Mihashi tries to apologize for not answering his mail.
"I can't-"
"Why not?"
Because. So many reasons. Too many. Mihashi gets the first word out. Feels his throat close on the rest.
Abe waits. Repeats the question when Mihashi doesn't say anything.
"D-doctor," Mihashi says. It's not much of an answer, but it's better than nothing. Seems to make Abe happy, his glare lifting just a little bit.
"Doctors?" he says. "What about them?"
So much. Too much. "Don't like them," comes out.
Not nearly enough.
Enough that Abe almost stops glaring at him altogether, though. Almost. "No one likes going to the doctor," he says. "But ... you have one you go to when you get sick. Right?"
Mihashi shakes his head, hard enough that it makes him dizzy. He doesn't get sick. Just like Abe. He doesn't get injured, either, but that hasn't happened to Abe since their first year, so it doesn't count.
"I don't," he says. "G-get sick."
"A physical doesn't mean you're sick," Abe says. "It's more of a way to document that you're healthy." The frown's back. Deep enough to count as a frown, anyway. Not just Abe's usual expression. "Haven't you ever had one before?"
He has. Had to have one before the coach at Mihoshi would let him play.
It was awful.
Which must show on his face or something because Abe reaches out and holds his hand like he does before they play ball, squeezes hard enough that some of the anxiety Mihashi feels coiling like a snake in his gut lightens up. His hands are warm, warmer than Mihashi's. Feel strong, solid. Familiar.
"S-scary," he says.
"What, me?"
Abe is many things. Scary isn't one of them. Never has been.
"The doctor."
"So go to a different doctor."
If only it were that simple. Like speaking up or not stuttering or not getting nervous and losing weight. All equally impossible.
"Go to my doctor," Abe says. "He's not scary."
Which sounds good. But if it's Abe's doctor and he thinks Mihashi's strange and he tells Abe that Mihashi's strange, then-
"I don't-"
"You can't pitch at Koushien if you don't get a physical done," Abe interrupts. "The physical takes twenty minutes. At most. It won't hurt. Just get an appointment and get it over with."
"But what if-"
The bathroom door opens, saving Mihashi from the struggle of continuing that line of thought. He pulls his hands back, fast enough that the guy coming in maybe won't think Abe's weird for holding hands with another guy in the bathroom. Hurries out into the hall just in case, pleased that Abe follows him out without needing Mihashi to ask him to.
Only Abe says tells Mihashi to go to class before Mihashi has a chance to say anything. Says: "We'll talk about this more later."
Which doesn't sound all that great, but talking with Abe is always kind of fun, always makes Things Work Out, so Mihashi nods and goes to class like Abe told him to. He stutters so much when his teacher asks him why he's late that he gets out of giving an excuse, gets to go sit down at his desk and hide behind his books until his classmates aren't looking at him funny anymore.
He doesn't pay attention very well for the rest of the day. Misses probably half the notes he should've been taking, but that doesn't matter. Abe will help him fill in the blanks when they study together, help him memorize the material well enough that it'll stick when he needs it.
If he's still interested in helping Mihashi study. If Mihashi's grades still matter, even after he leaves the team before their big match at Koushien.
The thought makes Mihashi sick to his stomach.
He eats only one serving of dinner that evening after school, does a sloppy job of his homework. Has nightmares all night, vague dreams that dissipate before he's able to wake up fully but leave him sweaty and tense, his heart pounding.
He's being a bother to Abe. Always has been. But this time, Abe needs to be able to concentrate, to focus on getting ready to play at Koushien. If Mihashi's a distraction, a bother ...
It'd be best for him to not be around, he decides. Best for the team. Best for Abe.
So he spends the rest of the week doing his best to be invisible, finds it to be considerably more difficult at Nishiura than it was at Mihoshi. He takes the long route to school to keep from bumping into any of his teammates, shows up just barely in time for stretching and meditation. Goes to school early, still sweaty where he didn't clean up properly before changing into his uniform, but that's all right, nothing a round of laundry won't fix, and better than risking Tajima talking to him in the clubhouse, Abe coming over to consult him about their pitching strategy. He slips out the minute the final bell rings for the day, takes a different route home. One he's sure Abe wouldn't take.
It works fine for a few days. Gets him a severe look from Abe and a worried look from Hanai by Friday, but it works, at least. Makes him feel funny, kind of like his chest has been hollowed out, but he felt like that plenty when he was younger and got used to it. Figures he'll get used to this, too.
The mail he gets from Abe, Friday night, doesn't help. Makes it worse, actually, because Abe's invited him over to study on Sunday and the prospect of going over to Abe's house to study like he used to do when he was still a part of the team-a real part of the team-brings up all kinds of things Mihashi's pretty sure he shouldn't be feeling, not if he wants to separate himself from his team, from his catcher.
He starts to send back I can't, I'm sorry, but that's a lie and he's never, ever been very good at lying to Abe. He tried that a bunch of times when they were freshmen, but Abe always knew when he was lying, always called him out on it. So he sends back okay and sneaks out to pitch some in the back yard because pitching calms him down, helps him clear his mind. Does his best not to think about Abe or Sunday or just how badly he wants to pitch to Abe at Koushien while he practices, doesn't do a very good job of pitching or thinking or not thinking or calming down at all.
He pitches 'til his arm aches. Goes to bed exhausted, wishing idly as he falls asleep that Abe were there to rub his shoulder and tell him everything's going to be okay and lie close to him like he did at summer camp, close enough for Mihashi to fall asleep listening to him breathe.
part ii >>