TEEN: - Ongoing (No) Love on the Outfield [Rhythm Heaven/Wii Sports]

[Welkamo]

This is not a love story.

Spoiler: Author’s Notes

“Man there isn’t enough alloaro rep” “Why don’t you write it” And thus this story was born.

Spoiler: Content Warnings

There’s going to be talk of sex in this. Appropriate for a Teen or Mature rating sex talk, but sex talk nonetheless. (Including some minor references to/subtext around kink)

Arophobia, amanormativity, and slut shaming (described in flashbacks and referenced)

Spoiler: Preferred feedback

I am aromantic in a “can’t distinguish romance and friendship” way trying to write someone who’s aromantic in a “can distinguish it and knows they don’t want romance” way. Help.

Is the sign language good? Am I doing it right???

General pacing/typo/wording/characterization/etc. stuff is good too.

 

[Welkamo]

Sakura had a very thorough schedule. Wake up at 6:00. Shower, brush teeth, get dressed, stretch. Same breakfast every day, eggs and miso soup. By 6:30, she was out the door, taking her morning jog.

A new day, a fresh start. Yesterday didn’t matter.

The Wiyu Invitational Series brought a lot of tourism to the Federation, turning the glorified park that was Wuhu Island into a must-see destination. Sakura’s mom was one of the few permanent residents of the island as a ranger, so Sakura liked to think she had inherited a unique respect for it, and gained a fierce passion for the Invitational.

Wuhu Island had a long, scenic route, used for running and cycling at different times. What few cars there were could only go up to 30 kmh. There were a few other people on the route at this hour: she waved to Ai, Yoko, Elisa…

Huh.

On Sugarsand Beach, there was a Globi star-crossed, alone, swinging at nonexistent baseballs coming from the sea. Shō, the Rhythm City Octaves’ newest draft. First baseman. First half Martian/half human in the International League.

Sakura couldn't tell if she liked him or hated him.

She could still remember the first time she saw him from the pitcher’s mound. First baseball match of the Invitational. Top of the third inning. She’d been shutting out the Octaves’ star batters up until that point. This would be just as easy. International teams weren’t used to side arm pitchers, and among those in that arcane class, Sakura was the best.

He was almost algorithmic in how he carried himself: gait just a little too steady, a batting stance that felt both relaxed and intense, it all felt like he was trying too hard to look effortless. But Sakura saw through the act; he would go down like the rest of them.

First throw, foul ball. Second throw, ball. Third throw, strike. Fourth ball…

Home run.

She could barely remember the roar of cheers, or even the fact that her team had won in the end. Everything was drowned out by the bitter sting of humiliation. The Wiyu Champion of Baseball, defeated by a mere rookie.

But it was also—

He was waving at her. Great. She’d look like a jerk if she didn’t talk to him for at least a bit.

With a forced smile, she waved back. “Hey, space cadet! Do you ever take breaks from practicing?”

When she got a bit closer, he signed something out with his hands. Something Sakura couldn’t understand. He paused in the middle of a gesture, then switched to another language: [“Do you know W-S-L?”] He fingerspelled the acronym for Wiyu Sign Language, rather than use the native term. His hands were slow and stilted, in contrast to when he had been signing in what had to be his native language.

Sakura nodded. [“Of course I do.”] Wiyu Sign Language was the closest thing the Federation had to an official language. Sarah, Co-Champion of Tennis and certified language nerd, had once told Sakura that it was in part due to how many of the original founders and liberators were deaf, in part because it gave the Wiyu Federation's multicultural population a shared language without a bias to any one language… then something something language isolates and other things that flew over Sakura’s head.

[“Your baseball is good,”] Shō added. [“Players who can throw and hit are very rare.”]

His compliments didn’t flatter or faze her. [“You’re a bit of a hotshot, aren’t you?”]

[“I don’t understand…”] He signed out the word for ‘hotshot’: ‘crown’ followed by ‘genius’, with a smug facial expression. [“Can you say the word in Japanese?”]

[“Are you hearing?”]

[“Yes, but I’m mute. I am fine if a person speaks or signs to me, but now speaking is better.”]

Sakura nodded. “Let me say it again: you’re a real hotshot. I mean, how many newbies can say they hit a home run against Wiyu’s Baseball Champion?” Up close, Sakura also realized that he was… quite the handsome young man. Tall and lean, sturdy with a bit of scrapiness to him. She stepped a bit away from him, fighting off the desire to get closer. Vulnerability. A moment of weak—

“Dad? Daaad, look.”

Salira looked down at where the voice had come from. A little girl looked back at her. A big smile on a rosy face, messy auburn hair, coveralls with sand all over, and a stick in her hand. She pointed the stick at a large hole in the sand a short distance away.

“Dad, I’m gonna dig to the other side of the world. Can you help me?”

Shō knelt down to sign to the girl—his native language, so Sakura could only infer the general idea from the girl’s “why not”’s and Shō’s casually authoritative body language and a “that sounds cool I want to see molten lava” from the girl. Sakura almost felt kind of bad for being so harsh to Shō.

He ruffled his daughter’s hair as he stood up again. [“This is Aya. She likes baseball.”] He emphasized the ‘like’, almost as though he was trying to say ‘love’. ‘Like’ and ‘love’ used two different handshapes.

“Well, Aya,” Sakura said, “have you ever heard of the Platinum Training we do here on Wuhu Island?”

Aya shook her head, but Shō lit up.

“It’s the test of the best in Wiyu’s sports circuit. For baseball, that means three trials in hitting, angling your swings, and hitting home runs.” Sakura looked up at Shō. “Does that sound like something your dad would like?”

 

[Welkamo]

Spoiler: Content warning

Brief reference to car related deaths, not sure if it’s worth the CW but better to be safe than sorry.

“Are you out of your mind?!”

Pierre was far less stoked about Sakura’s proposal than Shō or Aya had been. Not that his opinion mattered much, but he was making a big fuss about it, and it was getting in the way of Sakura’s pitching drills.

“More people die from cars than Platinum Training,” she casually shot back. Statistically true, because no one had died to Platinum Training yet.

“You’ll break that poor man, and then what will that mean for Wiyu-Rhythm Nation diplomacy?” How silly it would be, if something as small as a… rivalry had such large geopolitical consequences. Then again, Pierre was prone to catastrophizing.

“If he’s really this great and that home run wasn’t just a fluke, he’ll do fine.”

“Oh mother of… Is that what this is all about?!?!”

Okay, the drills could wait a moment.

Sakura loosened out of her pitching stance and walked over to Pierre. “Look, Petey, when I see someone who can match my skills in baseball, I get these thoughts, these intense desires to dominate them on the field.”

Pierre’s eyebrows raised incredulously. “Sakura, that is the raunchiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” He shrugged. “Though stranger crushes have been—”

“It’s not a crush.” Sakura put every ounce of sincerity in her voice; plenty of people in the past had taken that sentence to mean she was just in denial, and not… “It’s… lust, I guess. Not love. Not romantic love, at least… You can love someone sexually, right?”

Pierre was staring at her now, in that strange sort of way he did, where his perpetual dark circles under the eyes became more shadowed, and it was even harder to read his state of mind. Deep in thought, but about what?

Sakura put a hand on her hip, stared at the ground, sighed. “I should be blunt with you… Pierre, I’m aromantic. Aromantic… baseballsexual, I guess. Or competentsexual, I mean have you seen Elisa…” She smiled. “I see someone hot and I fantasize about having sex with them. But I’ve never fantasized about holding their hand in the park and being surrounded by sunshine and butterflies and sweet nothings and settling down to start a family with them.”

The silence was starting to scare her. In the emptiness, her mind could fill in the worst case scenario. She couldn’t even look up at Pierre, too worried that her fears had come true and she was about to lose her friend.

“Look, Nick and Miyu’s cute little teen crush thing, Sarah’s fiancée… damn it I forgot her name… I see them and I get really happy, because my friends are happy, and because it’s just nice seeing people be happy. But when I try to imagine myself in some kind of romance, it feels wrong. It’s like using a golf ball in a baseball game, like maybe it’s possible, but it’s not right, especially kissing, the thought of kissing someone makes it feel like bugs are crawling up my spine and Pierre can you say—”

“I’m not the best at coming outs. Not because I don’t understand or don’t tolerate it, but… I’m not good at responses. Nothing I say ever feels… sufficient enough, for the gravity of the words. Especially since… you’ve clearly thought about this lot, and I… I am not good at spontaneity.”

Sakura looked up at Pierre. There was a sincere sort of sadness in his eyes.

“I think I understand what you’re saying,” he continued, “it certainly contextualizes some things, but I don’t see you any less because of this. I’m glad that you trust me with this information., and I’m proud of you for telling me.”

Well that was a… Classic Pierre response. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what a “Classic Pierre” response even was, but that was certainly one. It also certainly lifted the weight off Sakura’s shoulders, and loosened the tightness in her chest.

“If it helps,” she said, “it’s better than the last time I came out to someone. It was a long time ago, but…”

“How many people have you told?”

Sakura frowned. “Not many. You’re the first person on the team who knows. I told my parents when I first figured it out back in high school, and…”