yousei-san (
flair) wrote in
metamorphosis2012-09-30 09:02 pm
Entry tags:
456;
Title: baseball
Characters: P3 Protag, Ryoji Mochizuki
Rating: G
AU, or something like it. Ka-kiin~.
”You have to point it at the sky, Mochizuki. So it’ll go ka-kiiin~.”
The way he swings the bat into an arc, with the resulting sound effect (all in a warm, if deadpan tone), makes Ryoji chuckle and nod, glancing away when the moon-like eyes turn his way with a confused look.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it. Then, pitch me the ball?”
Ryoji watches his teammate nod and jog back to the pitcher’s mound. He taps the bat against home base twice before a whistle signifies a ball being thrown, and he raises his bat. One, two, three — he swings. It shoots back into the glove sixty feet in front of him and he sighs, letting the metal bat bump against the side of his leg as his other hand pushes bat his hat and his hair.
“I did it that time —”
“No you didn’t.” Ryoji notes how he doesn’t even have to raise his voice for it to carry across the field. It’s level, as always — almost as if he had expected Ryoji to hit one straight back to him, instead of up and away. ”Imagine a rainbow in the sky and shoot for it. Or over it.”
“All right. One more time!” The smile on the pitcher’s mound is small, but makes Ryoji grin regardless. It isn’t so much as seeing it as feeling it, as the arm winds back for the throw and his fingers tighten for the home run.
(Which he doesn’t land, but at least it doesn’t go completely out of bounds like the first time he tried.)
Characters: P3 Protag, Ryoji Mochizuki
Rating: G
AU, or something like it. Ka-kiin~.
”You have to point it at the sky, Mochizuki. So it’ll go ka-kiiin~.”
The way he swings the bat into an arc, with the resulting sound effect (all in a warm, if deadpan tone), makes Ryoji chuckle and nod, glancing away when the moon-like eyes turn his way with a confused look.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it. Then, pitch me the ball?”
Ryoji watches his teammate nod and jog back to the pitcher’s mound. He taps the bat against home base twice before a whistle signifies a ball being thrown, and he raises his bat. One, two, three — he swings. It shoots back into the glove sixty feet in front of him and he sighs, letting the metal bat bump against the side of his leg as his other hand pushes bat his hat and his hair.
“I did it that time —”
“No you didn’t.” Ryoji notes how he doesn’t even have to raise his voice for it to carry across the field. It’s level, as always — almost as if he had expected Ryoji to hit one straight back to him, instead of up and away. ”Imagine a rainbow in the sky and shoot for it. Or over it.”
“All right. One more time!” The smile on the pitcher’s mound is small, but makes Ryoji grin regardless. It isn’t so much as seeing it as feeling it, as the arm winds back for the throw and his fingers tighten for the home run.
(Which he doesn’t land, but at least it doesn’t go completely out of bounds like the first time he tried.)
