Chapter 2 - Is it okay?

Dread was a foreign emotion to Ren.

Nervousness, worry, anxiety, he knew those feelings well, could see them in himself like muddy paints swirled and dried and cracked. Dull colors that painted his every thought, coating him in a shell with each new layer. Toxic and suffocating, he knew them well, but dread was an emotion in its own category.

Ren woke slowly, listening to the hum of the world around him. The creaking of their wood house in the light spring wind. Chirping of morning birds. The smell of spring in his nose and kiss of sunlight on his cheek, carding through his thick hair with its burning fingertips. Ren was immersed in the peace of it all.

But dread sat heavy in his heart.

He dug his hands under his pillow, hiding his eyes from the light of day. This space he was existing in was safe, he could keep it that way, he could stay like this, if he didn't move. He curled in on himself, breathing in his sheets and focusing on the weight of his body pressing into the mattress, but it was too late.

The tug of sagging breasts was so slight, bug shocked through him all the same.

Ren had recognized an odd detachment with his body long ago, a coping mechanism that never ceased to bother his athleticism. During the day his body felt numb, far away. No one had ever asked, but if they had he might describe it like living just outside himself. He might say, his body is rented property.

Small hands rubbed at his heavy eyes, prodding along his cheekbones, reminding him of himself.

He rose slowly from his mattress, registering the blinking of his phone on the side table. His breath hitched and his heart stopped and everything tensed, fully awake.

The detachment had never been intended, and by all accounts, was a horribly unhealthy way to live, considering his life style. Pain went hand in hand with hard work, but Ren found himself overlooking the sensation so that he might disconnect from all the parts of himself that made him want to hide away. Ren would pitch until he'd lost track and work himself until he couldn't stand and even then it would all feel like a dream.

There was a time, when he first started at Mihoshi, that baseball had been his salvation. The ache of practice, the pain of injuries, the burn of sun on his skin had all brought his mind back to his body in the best way. As the years went on, and his limitations became apparent, the sensation of baseball slowly leaked away. By the time Hatake stopped giving him sings, Ren's balls would leave his buzzing fingertips, cold and half asleep.

Though, in the early morning, when his soul felt oddly shaped, pressing against his flesh and bones in a desperate attempt to mold his body to fit, he remembered how much he appreciated the detachment. His skin felt too tight and his chest ached and his stomach rolled with fear of the present.

His fingers trembled, brushed over the top of his phone.

His stomach settled as much as it would, the feeling of smooth plastic under his fingertips fading and popped his cell phone open.

1![ V ] Abe-kun

Ren pressed the phone to his chest, grimaced at the site of his hands between his breasts. He grabbed his pillow, situating the sides under his arms to hold it in place over his heaving chest, phone closed and clasped between small hands.

His eyes drifted over the floorboards, the windows, light switch, light bulb, scaled the ceiling and circled back to his round, small feet. He wiggled his toes, poked at their tips with his fingers. A heavy sigh built up in his chest, pressed out between red lips. The sound of his mother bustling around the kitchen was becoming louder as the minutes ticked by and Ren's eyes dropped, shoulders sagged, until he forgot all about the phone sitting in his hands.

His mind was a blank for a moment before his opening door jammed it back into awareness.

"Ren!" His mother sighed, home phone pressed to her chest. "I've called you down for lunch at least five times now." She said, looking a bit exasperated. Ren rubbed at his eyes, squinting down at his phone to read that yes, it was in fact lunch time not breakfast.

"S-Sorry, one moment." He said, throwing his sheets aside and placing his feet carefully on the ground. He tried with a heroic effort to ignore his mother's scrutinizing gaze, something that probably supposed to look worried and motherly.

"Reeen," She said. "Why do you still wear those pants?" She asked, gesturing to the large baby pink pajama pants twisted around her son's legs. Ren tensed.

"I like them." He said, eyes stuck to the wood grain beneath his bare feet. His mother's sigh grated against his every nerve.

"But don't you think they're a bit…" She delicately pressed the tips of her fingers to her lips. "girly?" She said, as if she were speaking a filthy curse. Ren frowned, biting down on his lip.

"I like them." He said again, body trembling, throat burning. He could see his mother shifting out of the corner of his eye.

"Mm, well lunch is ready." She said, leaving his door open as she left the room and returned to her conversation.

Ren tucked his heels up on the edge of his bed, wrapping his arms around his knees, blunt fingernails digging into soft skin.

Stuffed away in his dresser Ren had a piece of clothing for every point on the gender spectrum. His underwear drawer was split into socks, thigh highs and tights, boxers, panties, and binders. He tried to keep all the womens' and mens' clothing separate, but the difference was readily noticeable and sorting often fell to the wayside after bone crushing baseball practices and hours upon hours of studying.

It wasn't as if he needed to keep his curvy cut clothing. His parents, though confused and slow to process new information, had always supported their child. Ren was blessed to share his search for a name and pronouns with his parents, and though his troubles took quite a bit of explaining, he was always met with open arms.

Ren's fingers rubbed small circles over the soft fabric of his pink pajama pants.

He liked his skirts and his and panties and the color pink. He liked his square t-shirts and boxy pants and loose boxers. But maybe his mother was right. Normal boys wouldn't have girl's clothing, then again, when had Ren ever felt normal?

His heart stopped when the phone in his hands began buzzing again. In his panic the phone slipped from his hand and hit the wall across the room, just narrowly missing the window. Ren pressed his pillow over his head, shaking and crumpling on his mattress.

If Abe ever texted twice, and he did often, Ren knew he would be angry, and he was often.

Expecting more texts, Ren didn't move from his shelter under his pillow. His shaking stilled and his breath quieted. Tajima's words drifted through his quiet mind.

"Nah, you don't need any of that!"

Ren counted his breathes as he listened to his thoughts. In, 1, 2, 3, 4, out, 1, 2, 3, 4.

Maybe there was a greater significance to what Tajima had told him. Ren let the pillow slip off his head, and pushed himself back into a sitting position, eyes stuck on the phone on the other side of the room. It had fallen open and wasn't flashing, but Ren knew how much Abe wanted, no, needed a timely reply.

Ren threw himself off his bed and scurried over to his phone, hitting the home button and watching it light up.

2![ V ] Abe-kun

are you busy today

if youre busy its fine I just thought you might like to hang out

Before Ren even realized what he was doing, he'd tapped and sent out a quick reply asking Abe to come over. Ren had something he wanted to ask Abe, and this was the perfect moment.

Ren agonized over stuffing his clothes into his dresser and under his bed. He panicked when a half full bag of pads fell popped out of his top drawer and wouldn't go back in, and in the end he put them in his mother's room. He straightened his binder in the mirror about five times before Abe was there, standing outside his door, ringing his doorbell.

A gurgling noise replaced Ren's greeting as his mother opened the door and ushered Abe in.

"It's so good to see you Abe-kun!" She said cheerfully. "Would you like a snack?"

"No thank you." He said with a relaxed but polite smile. His eyes turned to Mihashi. "Yo." He nodded. Ren's jaw shook.

"Y-Y-Yo!" He nodded his head, pulled on the hem of his large t-shirt, baggy cargo shorts swaying around his knees. His mother smiled sympathetically, then frowned.

"Ren, you never ate your lunch." She said. Abe glared.

"You haven't eaten?" He asked. "Haven't I told you how important it is to eat regularly? Have you weighed today?" Abe spat out question after question, his solid voice bashing into Ren's thin skull over and over again.

"S-Sorry!" He said, ducking his head and clutching his shirt, readying himself for more yelling. But there was no more yelling and Ren wasn't sure when but somehow Abe and him had collected lunch and wound up on Ren's bedroom floor. Both boys had a small bowl of rice and a couple hunks of grilled fish and a side of steamed vegetables.

Ren lifted a large bite of fish to his mouth, his cheeks flushing as a large growl from his stomach broke the silence between them. He was on edge, and when Abe sighed it was enough to make Ren jump several inches.

"Look," Abe spoke very carefully, his teeth careful not to touch, his breath light. He set his rice bowl down, adjusted himself to sit criss cross. Ren watched as Abe waited, irritation evident in his twitching eyebrow, for Ren to settle and give him his attention. Ren gulped, tucked his feet under his legs, nodding to let Abe know he was listening. Abe's shoulders fell, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

"I know we're…" He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "We're different." He said, frowning. Ren could feel his blood going icy, breath held tight. Abe dropped his hand back to his lap, turned his eyes back on Ren. "But you're a good pitcher. You've worked harder than probably anyone else I know, even when you're team was so. Awful to you. So I want to…" Abe grimaced. "I want to do my part. I want to work hard," Abe sucked in a breath between bared teeth. "-for you." He nodded at Ren, looking as if he had more to say, but only silence met them.

Ren fiddled with the hem of his shirt for a moment, sorting through what Abe had said.

Abe thought he was a good pitcher. Abe wanted to work hard, for him. But…but why? Abe's voice was rough and mercilessly wrecked Ren's train of thought, but his words were oddly on point, spoken in pieces between wobbly lips.

"I want to work hard so that," His words tumbled out, jolted by hesitation. "When you have to face a stadium full of people," When he blinked, Ren couldn't ignore the newly formed gloss in Abe's eyes and the rosey blush on his tan cheeks. "When you're on the mound with nowhere to hide, I want to make sure you're not-" Abe looked like he was choking on his own words. Ren's hands had curled into fists as he leaned all of his weight forward on his knees. He nearly started to panic just before Abe began to speak again. "I want to be a safe place for you!" Abe spat the words, his expression pained, face red. Ren could feel his jaw trembling, his dry tongue scraping lazily along the roof of his mouth.

"A-Abe…kun…I-I-I don't-" Ren pressed his teeth together, feeling anxious and dizzy and uncertain. Abe shook his head, now looking desperate.

"I can't-the whole team can't be a safe place for you if we don't know how to be!" Abe sucked in a deep breath, another heavy span of silence falling over him. They stared at eachother, and as the silence pressed on, they recognized. They were two people living in completely different worlds.

Ren's eyes fell first, lips parted, heart pounding. He spoke first, too. "I've never…felt s-safer than when I'm with the t-team." He said, eyes wide but words certain. Gathering up his courage, he raised his eyes, jumping when they met a very angry looking Abe.

"We're not perfect Mihashi, we're going to mess up. You know that right..?" He said. The glare had caught Ren by surprise, but now that he really looked, Abe looked relaxed, maybe even relieved. Ren nodded his head, lips pressed together. He knew his team would eventually say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. They might make him panic uncontrollably, or hurt him enough that not even pitching sounds appealing. But there was one thing that made Nishiura safer than any place he'd ever been.

"Y-You always try your hardest!" Ren said, carefully, the corners of his lips inching upwards. Abe seemed surprised by this, but definitely not angry. "I believe that…e-even if you h-h-hurt me," Ren counted a slow breath in, then out. "You'll never do it on purpose, and you'll-you'll! Try to fix it!"

Abe opened his mouth but said nothing, just stared into Ren's eyes, nodded his head. It was strange that Abe had nothing to say, and in that way it almost made Ren more nervous than when Abe was yelling.

But something about this silence was much more comfortable, inviting. Eventually, they picked up their plates and began eating again. Abe asked about Ren's schoolwork, offering to help him if he needed it. Ren wasn't eager to spend his time with Abe doing schoolwork of all things but he'd too honestly told Abe that he was struggling in just about every subject.

They sat down, side by side, as Abe tried to help make sense of basic algebra. Ren's brain was very quickly being mushed into a perfect pudding, and as he zoned out, he remembered why he had invited Abe over in the first place.

"A-Abe-kun." He said abruptly. Abe looked up from his textbook, his mouth set in a firm line, not that Ren would look at him. "I w-w-was wondering-" He said, suddenly regretting this entire thing.

"Wondering what?" Abe asked, closing his book and giving Ren his full attention. Ren gulped.

"D-Do you-" His breath caught in his throat. He coughed, and pushed forward. "Do guys-is it okay for them to-to like…pink?" He asked, out of breath and terrified of Abe's answer.

Abe furrowed his brow, crossed his arms. "Pink?" He asked. Ren bit his lip and nodded his head.

"T-There are-" Ren tilted to one side. "Men who dress as women, but I-" He said, leaning to the other side. "I-I don't want to be a drag queen. Is it-can I still be a regular boy i-i-if I like pink?" He asked, a serious, somewhat serious pinch in his brows. Abe closed his eyes, thinking. Ren could hear his pulse in his ears as he willed himself to wait for Abe's response. He gasped a little louder than was probably necessary when Abe finally opened his eyes and spoke.

"Liking pink doesn't make you any less of a boy." He said, looking a bit confused. "I mean, I know a lot of people try to say pink is a girl's color but…" He shrugged.

Deep in Ren's heart, he agreed with Abe. He wanted to believe things like clothing and colors wouldn't keep him from being a boy, but. "But-you don't think…m-me specifically, l-l-liking pink…would make me…too girly…" Ren's voice fell quieter and quieter with every word, but Abe seemed to have finally picked up on just what he was trying to communicate.

"Listen to me, Mihashi!" He said, hitting his open hand against the floor. Ren jumped but willed his eyes to stay on Abe.

"You don't have anything to prove to anyone!"

Abe wasn't sure what to do when Mihashi started speaking. This silly boy was babbling on and on about how he believed in his team, and how he trusted them, all the while stuttering up a storm and shaking like a leaf under Abe's slightest frown. Abe didn't want to admit just how much it scared him, how much trust Mihashi was lending him so easily. And he had to wonder.

When he watched Mihashi's jolting lips and jittery hands and the way his eyes would dart around. Just what had Mihoshi done to leave Mihashi this disjointed, mess of a person?

As he approached the door to leave for the night, Abe felt electrified, a magnetic pull in his hands and his heart. Never in his life had he wanted to wrap a person up, put them in his pocket, and shield them from all possible harm. He was quick to suppress the emotion, the urge, and write it off as nothing. Before he left, as he stuffed his fee into his shoes, he was able to get one last question answered.

"Mihashi…" Abe said, turning to face his friend. Mihashi swayed on his feet nervously, waiting for Abe's question. "If I wanted to know about people like you…is there a word for it?" He asked. Mihashi stilled, his eyes suddenly focusing on Abe.

"Transgender."

Author's Notes-

Still building up to the actual plot? So sorry for the wait on both this fic and my other free fic. I haven't had much time to write lately because of work, but I'm doing my best to squeeze in writing time. Please do leave me a review and let me know what you think! Your input keeps me writing!

-FoxyGrampaGlasses