Chapter Text
When he said yes, it was casual and dry.
The Batter was a very distant and silent person. He had a difficult time letting anyone be within a five foot radius of himself, let alone touch him. To this day I do not know how I could enjoy the presence of such a being, how I could want his presence so badly. His physical presence that is. The Batter does not speak much, so I am never sure whether he is even paying attention or whether his mind is somewhere else entirely. But if I ask him he assures me he listens, he assures me in his own cold way.
When I first met him, I could not help but notice that he was a contrast to his surroundings. A pure, holy entity in the shape of a single man walking through a land of corruption and danger. A breeze of fresh air in the dark, smokey world. He walked with his head held high in pride and his bat tightly in his hand, ready for battle. Only a few people were able to notice the invisible strings tugging at his limbs, directing him to speak to me.
And once he did I was his ever present merchant and he was my best customer. Being his only salesman had perks in its own way. I was where he was and was close by when he needed assistance in form of Luck Tickets or a new bat. I do not recall him ever actually buying the former, it seems he picked up enough of them on his violent path. I provided him and his Add-Ons with high quality merchandise before every major battle and I was there to greet him afterward.
Unfortunately, the desire to be more to him than that awoke inside of me fairly quickly. It was after another short conversation, a normal deal. I gave him a few Jokers in exchange for a few Credits. As he handed the Credits to me the tips of his fingers brushed against mine for a brief second. In my mind, the contact lasted for minutes. And once it stopped I missed it immediately. The Batter then went to be on his merry way, not giving me another glance. I felt my cheeks heat up as I stroked the Credits in my hand. If an Elsen saw me that time he must have thought something was wrong with me, but I do not remember anything beside the Credits in my hand and the heat in my cheeks. The world might have been broken and glued back together in those minutes and I would be none the wiser.
I recovered soon enough, though, and went to the location I was supposed to appear at next. I was not moving at my usual speed, I could not tear my mind away from his touch. I was unsure about what to think or do, I could not even focus on my purpose of collecting Credits. And it was bugging me, to say the least. I did not even know what was happening or why it was happening. And as I was used to knowing everything, since everything was scripted, I was confused at the time. I wish now that the realization had come to me sooner, because once it actually came it was like a bat to the gut.
After the accidental physical encounter (If it even deserves that name) I began to crave the Batter's presence more and more with each time that I actually caught a glimpse of his pure white uniform. I began to adore his fighting, amongst other things. I watched him happily as he was swinging a newly purchased bat. I observed him gleefully as he was forced to walk to the same places over and over again for the sake of riddle solving. I smiled at him with deepest content as he approached me for another set of Add-On upgrades. But he never saw any of this. He never knew how closely I watched him and I owe this to my trusty mask. It protected my face from unwanted gazes and my gaze from being noticed.
The first buds of realization blossomed within my mind when the Batter stayed in the same room as me while 'equipping' his new tunic. Once he had removed the outdated tunic the room temperature suddenly went up a hundred degrees. I knew I was blushing. I am sure a few beads of sweat rolled down my forehead, hidden by the mask. He had the well-trained body of an athlete and I almost voiced my disapproval when he hid this body with the new tunic. He brought over the old one to sell it back to me and I had a hard time spitting out my usual greeting words after the sight. His face was frozen in the ever-lasting indifference as usual. And I was well aware that my face should have been doing the same. Granted, I smiled a lot and chuckled and made sure he knew how appreciated his customer loyalty was, but to be sweating and blushing and stuttering? I knew that something was wrong. And I had a good idea of what it might be.
But in order to protect the sacred merchant-customer relationship I poured a good amount of denial over the buds of realization. Whenever the obvious truth popped into my head, I found another explanation, another lie to make myself believe that everything would stay the same. Sadly, this truth did not drop in now and then, it never cut me any slack. I was constantly forced to think about the purifying man that was walking the Zones. It was nerve wrecking. I told myself that the Batter was important to me, since we were forced to talk very often and since we saw each other a lot. I said I thought about him, because he was my most valuable customer, this was a lie that I did not have a hard time believing for a few hours.
I kept pouring denial over my mind, attempting to freeze the omnipresent thoughts. But the buds of realization prospered and broke through my attempts of denying my feelings. Eventually, I stopped every try and attempt to kill the realization. I had to take the punch of having feelings for someone. So I knew. I knew for sure. But I simply could not accept it. It was not scripted to happen. It was impossible for me to do something that was not scripted. But the next time the Batter sought my merchandise he brought acceptance with himself and his pure existence washed away my doubts.
There never was a stupid man behind the frog mask, only a man that tried to stay within his boundaries and apparent possibilities. I knew about this blooming feeling. It was extremely rare and there was no way to sell it, not even for an infinite amount of Credits. I was aware that this feeling could be beautiful and fulfilling as well as destructive and terrifying. In order to pull the former emotional consequence I was inclined to do something. Confessing was a very prominent option and the one I decided to go with. But this placed my fine butt in front of another problem: How does one explain their red tinted feelings to a person with no emotion, whatsoever? Did he even know about this feeling, or feelings at all for that matter?
I refused to waste time on wondering about what he might say or worrying about a potential rejection. Doing things like that would only shove my situation into the direction of 'destructive and terrifying'. I came to the conclusion that I would explain everything to him the next time that I saw him. I expected this to be a few hours, but those hours turned into a few days. I was wondering about him, had he died? For good? The idea was painful so I replaced it with others: His puppeteer was absent and he was waiting for them; He was in no need of new items; He had forgotten where I was.
Waiting for the chance to tell him about the plague of a feeling that was lingering inside of me, anchored deep into my thoughts and desires, was mind numbing. I attempted to make up more excuses for his lack of presence but I had used up all my denial fuel for the next few years.
I was mad, not at the Batter, but at myself. I had prepared everything. In my head I had gone over the whole procedure of how to confess a million times. I had mentally written down lines and rehearsed them as if I was playing the lead in a romantic play and the Batter was the obvious love interest of said lead. And the audience is more or less quietly rooting for the lead and the love interest to finally pull themselves together and become a couple already. But in this scenario the audience were readers and the love interest remained the same.
After the aforementioned few days had passed the Batter showed up, no explanation for his absence, no apology, nothing. Of course he did not owe me any of that so why would he give it to me? He was standing in front of me, the tall, spectre killing, purifying man in front of the by comparison puny, item selling, waiting merchant. And I noticed in the blink of an eye that I was the kid at the play that forgot his lines in a fit of nervousness. The carefully planned words were wiped from my memory, the scenario was gone.
The Batter demanded to see the list of my items but my body would not budge, my mouth would not open, I was frozen in place. I was certain that I could feel my heart beating and trying to jump out of my ribcage.
“Batter...” I said, addressing him. He gave me a questioning expression, obviously not understanding my hesitation. I mouthed the words I wanted to say a few times, exercising my lips behind my mask. “What if I were to tell you... that there is a brand new offer, but you can't purchase it?”
The Batter looked down at me and I could read the confusion on his face. “Its very rare.” I added. He asked about the nature of this item, which made me swallow hard.
I felt my muscles tense. “It is not an item, Batter. It is more like a correlation with physical interaction and emotional components.” I watched the Batter raise an eyebrow. “Batter, would you like to have a romantic relationship with me?”
The silence that followed my question was torture. He did not say a word, he did not change his expression, just a hint of surprise was in his eyes. I tried to comfort myself by telling myself that rejection would at least not come as a surprise. He still remained silent and unmoving so I felt the urge to elaborate. “I have noticed recently that I am more than just accustomed to your presence, to your mannerisms and general being. I need you to be there.” I knew I was sounding corny but there was no other way to explain to him how I felt.
Still expecting complete and utter refusal I was taken by surprise when the man in white nodded his head and muttered “Alright.” to me. This remark was enough to push me into a pool of bliss and I wanted to remain inside of this pool forever, swimming in circles, never getting out. But something was bothering me, still. His expression had not changed. He did not seem happy, relieved, he did not even appear to be content. He was cold as always. I just had to hold onto the little crumb of belief that he was happy on the inside. Or that he had to get used to the idea of being in a relationship with me.
I ignored his apparent indifference and wrapped my arms around his body. My mask still in place I buried my face in his shirt. I took in his scent. As I glanced down I could see the hand holding his bat twitch. I feared for a moment that he was going to attempt to purify me any second. That fear left when I felt his arm around my back, pushing my body closer to his. I felt his head rest on top of mine. The hug was closer to a friendly than a romantic level, but it still sent waves of happiness crushing into me.
For a moment, the world was warm.