The summary does its job in what I'm going to be writing here for the most part, but I want to add a few more things. 1) Each drabble will stand alone, unconnected to the other ones unless I say so. 2) I'm going to be doing all sorts of genres, from humor to angst, but I'm a romantic at heart. So that will be the main genre that will mix with the rest. 3) I don't mind receiving ideas or requests; you never know, I may do it! 4) Feedback is always appreciated, but not insisted upon. I welcome constructive criticism, but not unsupported flames. 5) I really hope you find something to enjoy :)
I don't own Oofuri.
Mihashi had never before in his life been used to attention. So now that there were sudden schoolmate strangers awknowledging the baseball team's importance in upholding their school's name, especially the star pitcher that made the defense almost impenetrable, it made him twitch and stutter as horribly as when he'd first come to the club.
The way people would say good morning to him with such warmth, people who were in other classes or years and who he didn't know! It was ridiculous, but he still smiled. It was an odd thing to be constantly rewarded.
Tajima had explained to him one day that with being good at something, people would automatically follow and fawn. While the shorter boy had continued on to list how he was going to be on magazine pages when he was older ("...heroically holding the bat as if to slay a villain, six foot and ripped. Hot, the girls will come drooling!") Mihashi's mind began turning.
Praise. Appreciation. How foreign.
But there seemed to be one person who was entirely immune to such emotions. He was thinking about the real hero and rightful owner of the success. His catcher of course.
Abe didn't praise him, unless they had just won a game or had struck out an especially tough opponent. And even then it was a rough smile or a careful pat on the back, wary as to not hurt him in any way. Mihashi tried to think of why he wasn't so open in his congratulations like other teammates, but he just settled on that was how Abe was and would stay. He really didn't mind one bit.
Eventually the cheers became part of the normal background and Mihashi had gotten the hang of simply waving or smiling lightly, no longer blushing or feeling like his head was going to explode from pressure.
He found that even with all the yells from the expanding cheer squad or the girls that would bat their eyelashes at him, he enjoyed Abe's gruff words even more.
Being famous and known by strangers, Mihashi discovered oddly, was overrated.