[Misawa] Dear Mr. Fox

It's surprisingly hot in New York in August.The originally cool sea tide in New York Bay, mixed with the strenuous respite of the overly large city, became part of the summer heat, which did not get better at night.The taxi driving into the glass jungle at night is like shuttling through a complicated nebula.The sound of the air conditioner and engine in the car was very loud, making Miyuki's usual voice low and indistinct, revealing little emotion and no redundant words.Knowing that this is his first visit to New York, Miyuki said that it would be great if he could still climb up the Empire State Building at this time.Following the direction he pointed, Sawamura raised his neck sorely, and barely saw the giant silver tower standing alone among the starry skyscrapers.

Why do you have to go there?Does it look good?

Of course it is because the place where tourists gather is the most suitable for Sawamura.Miyuki made fun of him.

Nothing has changed.

He called Sawamura by the name he was most familiar with, picked up the black leather briefcase, and freed his palm like a catcher to catch the fist that the pitcher turned and swung.But Sawamura managed to punch him in the face unreasonably.Not heavy, just the balance between his anger and joy.

"How can anyone beat up a senior from the past as soon as they see him?"

"Who told you not to contact me for so long! You don't show up at parties or anything! After you stop playing baseball, it's as if the world has evaporated! I can't count how many years have passed! Just now you want to escape, don't think I don't know !"

"Huh? Haven't you never contacted me?"

Sawamura was speechless.For a moment, the sound of the passing train on the opposite side flooded the eardrums.He took the opportunity to change the subject.

"So Miyuki specially traveled across the ocean to watch me compete with Master?"

"That's right - I lied to you. I just happened to be on a business trip and bought a ticket."

"How was the game? Hey, let me impress you."

"It's 100 years too early to hear me praise you—I want to say this, but it's fineplay. You're still moving forward, Sawamura."

Above the black thin-rimmed glasses, under the short-cut bangs, the two imposing sword eyebrows are particularly incompatible with the smirk raised at the corner of the mouth at the moment.But Miyuki did not change.The thought reassured him.That last sentence contains many meanings, but the most important thing for Sawamura is that Miyuki has not strayed away from baseball.Later, in a taxi, on the still busy sidewalk in Manhattan late at night, he and Yuyuki discussed so many details of the game, which shot was not timed well enough, should not have been hit, and the state of the home game in Chicago was more natural before. , but today's momentum is indeed impeccable.What, suddenly stopped talking back?

"Don't worry. I always feel relieved knowing that Miyuki still likes baseball."

He bowed his head and smiled, and the busy headlights on Seventh Avenue turned his smile on, off, on again.Of course he didn't notice that Miyuki was looking at him with his head down and smiling all the time.All he knew was that Miyuki had been following their games.When the stock market was closed, Miyuki, who was holding a coffee that had long been cold, was concentrating on flipping through the score sheet, or opened the MLB-related news in front of him.His expression was no different from his in high school.She rested her chin intently, the mirror reflected light slightly, and her brown eyes reflected deeper, without saying a word.Out of tune with the surrounding.

Miyuki takes responsibility and takes him around Manhattan after being abandoned by his master and teammates.Just squeezed out of the crowd of tourists in Times Square, Sawamura's stomach growled loudly amidst the bustle of people.What do you want for supper?Senior, I treat you.For Japanese style, there is a good izakaya nearby.As he said that, he led him through the streets and alleys that were enough to make him completely stunned, the core of countless neon-colored cosmic dust and countless nights.Sawamura followed closely behind, his eyes locked on the back of the front.A Borelli shirt with light blue fine lines and a white background, and a suit jacket casually draped over the elbows.Miyuki is familiar with New York.He is familiar with almost every corner of the world, as if the whole world has become his diamond field, and Miyuki is still the catcher who strategizes.Whether it is squatting in the catcher's box or following behind him like this, the 18.44 meters seems to have been lying between Miyuki and him, neither close nor far, like two worlds closely interdependent.

I thought that I would understand something after meeting, but in the end I was even more confused.

There is a street of restaurants behind a row of 70-[-]-storey high-rise buildings, with unremarkable Japanese-style white lanterns between the numerous signboards. At this time, there are few people in the restaurant, and the bars not far away are crowded.Izakayas are somewhere in between.Push open the glass door, walk down the narrow corridor, lift the curtain, there is a hole in the inside.The wood-based decoration, the closed ramen shop, the porcelain beckoning cat in front of the cashier, and the background music of old songs from the [-]s.He seemed to have returned to Tokyo from a foreign country.The two chose a small square table against the wall and sat down. They ordered fried tofu, chicken skewers, grilled mackerel, vegetable tempura and shochu. Miyuki recommended to him the plum wine and sake mixed with soda water. cocktails.If you drink too much, be careful not to catch the plane tomorrow morning, and I don't want to cause trouble for Master.Sawamura reminded me, the other party smiled and replied, I was underestimated by Sawamura-san.There are too many entertainments, what is this?

When the waiter left, Sawamura suddenly became nervous.Miyuki took out the tablet computer in the briefcase, and he also buried himself in pretending to send text messages, wrote and deleted, and looked up at the guy opposite him from time to time.In my impression, I rarely get alone with Miyuki like this.But not completely.Occasionally, they would watch game videos together, reflect on the problems of the previous game, and analyze the tactics of the next game; They met on the stairs next to the arena and bickered irrationally.When I was young and energetic, at least I would not be able to endure a long period of silence like I am now, and I would not desperately weigh in my heart whether some words can be said and what should be said.

"Has Sawamura adapted to the United States? How much English can he speak?"

"Barely be able to communicate. In complicated situations, I have to rely on Master to translate."

"Try to have a conversation?"

"No. You are still such a bastard."

"Haha."

silence.

"Have you ever thought about returning to the court, Miyuki?"

"Just kidding, it's been a long time since I exercised, and I almost forgot the rules."

He is lying.

"What the hell is Miyuki doing?"

"Watching the stock market day and night, and occasionally eating and drinking with capitalists~"

"Is this interesting……"

"how to say."

silence.The background music also suddenly quieted down.

After all the food and drink were served, Sawamura suddenly discovered the meaning of these drinks.In the slightly drunk state, the chatterboxes of the two of them opened up, and the words that could not be said naturally when they were awake all rushed out from the jungle deep in their hearts, in the corner of the tavern where geography and time were blurred.Sawamura counted his experience in Japan, his adventures in the major leagues, and the entire season of this year.It was also the first time he heard Miyuki complain about work and his boss.Speaking of meeting Chris in France and the phone call that couldn't get through, Miyuki told him that he had indeed changed jobs during the period, and the other party offered him a better position and salary.This is all too common in the financial world.It is estimated that in a year or two, he will change jobs, or resign and start his own company.

As expected, Miyuki has not changed, he is as obsessed with money and fame as he is with victory.

Of course, my dream is to have my own baseball club or ball team.This should be a good time to laugh, Sawamura.

what's so funny?Awesome, awesome!At that time, I will go to your team as an ACE!

I'll have to think about it, hahaha.

The mood was high with the wine, and the white ceramic bottles with narrow necks filled the small table in a haphazard manner.Miyuki emptied a dozen or so sake bottles.The electronic clock on the cash register jumped to zero.The moment the magic goes away.After clearing the tables and mopping the floor, the waiter politely came up to tell them that it was time to close.A short guided tour of New York at night, a conversation in a hidden Japanese bar, and the plane back to Tokyo or Chicago early the next morning.That's all they've had for eight years.Everything that started suddenly and ended suddenly.

If whiskey and other spirits are compared to military commanders, Japanese sake is probably more like ninjas. It always makes people think that they can drink more, only to find that they have been put down quietly after a while.Walking up the narrow corridor, Sawamura barely stood still by leaning on the wall, Miyuki stepped forward and held his arm.How dare you try to be brave, obviously you staggered when you walked.In the night sky, the skyscrapers decorated with neon lights spun before his eyes, like another grand ball at midnight, the elf's ball, quietly started when people went home.

What is Senior Chris's phone number?Tell him to pick you up?

He shook his head in a daze as if he had heard some fantasy.The brain is indeed still functioning, and it is extremely excited, but it does not understand the meaning of these few single sentences.Does that mean they are saying goodbye?No.In the end, Miyuki gave up asking and patted his cheek and said, still laughing, how stupid.Go to my place and take a break before talking.So the two got into the back seat of the same taxi, and Sawamura collapsed on the leather seat of the taxi like a puddle of ooze.He felt tired and wanted to rest his head on Miyuki's shoulder next to him.Just the thought cheered him up, and he completely forgot about the fact that he could only rest on that broad, warm shoulder for another twenty or ten minutes.The magic power of alcohol this night is to infinitely magnify the small happiness and infinitely suppress the huge sadness. Whether it is the emptiness of the past eight years or the upcoming parting, there will be no miracle of this day in the vast sea of ​​people from now on. Now, none of these are worth mentioning compared to Miyuki who is beside him at this moment, looking at him with worries and some inexplicable emotions; it seems that as long as he prays, time can be frozen, and he can always exist in this place In the human breath, until the lights of the whole city go out and come back on again countless times.

Miyuki was talking to the driver.A few English words drilled into his mind.There is a reason for this heat wave in New York, and a storm may be brewing in the Gulf of Mexico to the south.

Sawamura suddenly felt his stomach twitch, and after a convulsion, it seemed like a fire was burning inside, and he covered his mouth tightly before calling for a stop.

I threw up twice on the way to the hotel.The driver hurriedly dropped them off at the hotel entrance before his third seizure.When he was dazed, he heard Miyuki call the waiter, and then he was carried like a sandbag to the hotel room.Lying on the soft mattress, essential oils and a certain familiar smell prevented drowsiness from further invading consciousness.Ah, if I remember correctly, it must be the scent of that person's perfume.

He used to be a troublemaker.You know how hard it is for a drunk to move another drunk back.

Yuxing made a cup of hot tea, filled more than half of it for him, and drank the rest by himself.I don't think there is any hangover effect, but it just removes the bad smell in the mouth and replaces it with a bitter and tasteless tea fragrance.Miyuki was sitting on the carpet leaning against the edge of the bed, his dark brown head was resting on his elbow, and a few strands of hair brushed his skin inadvertently.

"Yuyuki." After a while, he tried to shout.There was no response, so he changed his name, "Senior Miyuki."

Still nothing.Sawamura moved away the arm that was in front of his eyes, as if he had exhausted all his strength to prop himself up, and leaned close to the man's ear. "Miyuki Kazuya!" After slightly raising the volume, the other party reluctantly agreed, lazily and tiredly.Almost forgot, he was also a drunk.

"Alive?"

"Ah."

"Fell asleep?"

"Ah."

"You'll catch a cold. Come to bed at least."

"Really, it's cold."

He stretched out his hand to hold the other's extended palm, and sure enough, it was as cold as ice.The central air conditioner in the hotel was blowing directly on his head, and the alcohol metabolism was also consuming the body's energy.Come up and warm your bed.Sawamura took advantage of his drunkenness and half-jokingly pulled him up by his armpit.Don't move, don't move, I can move by myself.Where are you touching?The guy sitting on the carpet pretended to be struggling, and the two big men wrestled into a ball on the bed.He took off Miyuki's precious glasses and threw them on the bedside table.Unbelievably, as long as the skin touches through the cloth, it will become very warm, hot, as if being melted away, and become tightly attached and unwilling to separate.They all noticed it.But no one can stop, no one will be the winner in this game of greedily absorbing each other's warmth.His T-shirt was torn in half, Miyuki's shirt was unbuttoned several times, his chest heaved sharply, accompanied by messy and rapid breathing, like a broken blower.Miyuki's expression on his body was backlit, looking blurry and gentle. His eyes, which had always been hidden behind the lenses in the past, narrowed and then widened, staring at him fixedly, with charming drunkenness, like two clusters of faint amber Foxfire.

"Sawamura? Why are you here?"

Miyuki's voice trembled slightly.And he held his breath, waiting for the other party's fingers to gently stroke his bangs, cheeks, trace the outline of his mandible, and finally rest on the chapped lips.The marks left by the frost on the fingertips were inexplicably burned.The second time I ran into Miyuki in Seidou, I seemed to have been asked this question as well.The boy who crawled behind him along the base of the wall with his hat tilted looked surprised.All kinds of shit happened after that, and besides, who cares when you're on the court.Why are you here?Because I enrolled.Because I want to play baseball at this school.Because I wanted to keep playing baseball.But he never really answered that day's question after all.

"Because I met Miyuki."

If it is destined to take away all his memories of this night, then just leave this smile.In my memory, I have never seen Miyuki smile like this before, with an irresistible but natural gentle arc, like a wishing child who suddenly sees a shooting star flashing across the night sky.In the brown lake-like eyes, there is only Sawamura's figure and his longing, and there is nothing else.The once inaccessible world opened a tiny opening before him.It's okay to poke in a little bit, it's okay to touch it again, it's okay to become fragile, it's okay to lose your feelings a little bit.The person who was almost touching his nose five centimeters away was not Qingdao's savior genius catcher, nor was he the captain who was the core of the team, nor was he a business elite running around the world. Miyuki who wears a mask to mediate in the human world.

This is the true appearance of Miyuki who left the diamond field and the world he was familiar with, but never faded out of his life.

Two muffled thunderclaps rolled across the silent zenith.The scattered raindrops slapped on the floor-to-ceiling windows, dispelling and miniaturizing the city that never sleeps, and fixing it in countless tiny water droplets.It's raining.Miyuki turned his head to look out the window, but when he tried to get up on the mattress, the person under him stretched his arms and tightly wrapped around the back of his neck.

Since there was such an encounter, why should we separate?