Chapter 20: Of the Baseball 

♣♣♣

On a clear afternoon, everyone was dressed in uniforms, playing baseball. Baseball is that sport where two teams of nine face off, a pitcher throws a ball, a batter swings a bat to hit it, and they compete for points.

We’re not high school baseball players, nor are we aiming for the major leagues. Still, here we are, playing baseball on the riverbed.

“Here we go~!”

Standing on the mound, Hayasaka-san nods to the signs given by the catcher, Daidouji-san, and throws the ball.

The ball arcs high, incredibly slow. So slow that it wobbles, as if swaying from air resistance.

“It’s actually harder to hit like this!”

Touno swings awkwardly, barely making contact with the bat—a weak hit, a so-called “foul tip.” While Touno is a lefty when spiking in volleyball, she bats right-handed.

The poorly hit ball rolls slowly toward Tachibana-san, who’s guarding third.

Tachibana-san scoops up the ball with her glove and tosses it lightly. I catch it at first base—one out.

“Nice.”

Tachibana-san adjusts the brim of her cap with a satisfied look.

“Let’s keep it tight~!”

Hayasaka-san raises both hands cutely toward the fielders behind her.

Touno, frustrated, stands just past first base after being called out.

Why are we playing baseball? Because this is the traditional showdown between Yamame-sou and Kitashirakawa Sakura Heights.

Besides the springtime Higashiyama Summit Mahjong Tournament, this baseball match is held every winter.

The mahjong tournament’s stakes were a year of cleaning the private road, but the baseball match bets on neighborhood watch duty. The losing team’s residents have to walk around the Higashiyama area every night for the entire winter, banging clappers and calling out “Fire safety!”

The Yamame-sou residents, not wanting to wander in the cold, are desperate to avoid defeat. But baseball is a sport, and naturally, it’s not the forte of Yamame-sou’s residents. Plus, we couldn’t even gather enough players.

Just when it seemed we’d lose by forfeit, Hamanami heard about it and volunteered to be the coach, suggesting we bring in Hayasaka-san and Tachibana-san to fill the roster.

“What, is she pulling the Hamanami Eight Trigrams Formation here too?”

“Of course, that’s part of it. Kirishima-senpai, keep showing off how close you are with Touno-san. But the reason I’m coaching—”

Hamanami’s eyes blazed with determination as she spoke.

“Is to win at baseball. This is a battle we can’t lose.”

“What’s with the sudden passion?”

“Because this is a proxy war for our universities!”

The university Hamanami and I attend is so eccentric that no one bats an eye at someone walking around in a kimono.

In contrast, the university Touno and the Sakura Heights crew attend is full of well-rounded, good-looking, sparkling students.

“I want—!”

Hamanami declared.

“I want to shatter the image that our university is just a bunch of pale, scrawny nerds who only study!”

“That’s literally true, though.”

“We can’t let those living glamorous university lives beat us!”

That mindset already screams our university, but whatever. We let Hamanami take the helm as coach and brought in Hayasaka-san and Tachibana-san.

During pre-game practice, Tachibana-san caught the ball better than anyone and managed to hit it with the bat, earning her the spot as “No. 4, third base.” Sure, she casually dodges strong hits with a blank face, and her batted balls just roll forward, but she’s still our No. 4 third baseman. Most of us can’t catch or hit at all.

But Hamanami’s best call as coach was “No. 1, pitcher—Hayasaka.”

Hayasaka-san’s pitches arc so slowly they’re hard to hit, wobbling unsteadily. Even the catcher, Daidouji-san, barely manages to catch them.

“Nice battery, huh? What about going pro?”

When Hamanami asked, Daidouji-san shook his head.

“I’m only good for amateur baseball.”

That’s how Daidouji-san described Hayasaka-san’s high potential.

And Hayasaka-san’s weapon wasn’t just her ultra-slow pitches. She’s wearing a baseball uniform with short shorts.

“Ei!”

When she throws with a slight inward tilt of her thighs, the male batters from Sakura Heights can’t help but stare at her pale thighs and the tight chest of her men’s uniform, completely missing the ball.

That’s how the game started, with Hayasaka-san holding the first inning scoreless. In the top of the second, Team Sakura Heights’ attack saw their No. 4 pitcher, Touno, cleanly retired with a grounder to third.

“Great job! Keep it up!”

Hamanami shouted through a megaphone.

The next batter was Miyamae.

“I’m hitting a home run~!”

She steps into the right batter’s box but holds the bat like a lefty, hands reversed. Somehow, that works, and she lightly taps Hayasaka-san’s ultra-slow pitch.

But with no power in her swing or the ball, it doesn’t go far—just a routine fly over my head at first base.

A white ball descends against the blue sky.

“Alright, alright.”

I look up, positioning myself under the ball’s landing spot.

“Alright, alright, alright.”

The white ball comes down.

“Kirishima~! Don’t catch it~!”

Miyamae’s voice calls out as she runs.

“Sorry, but I’m not keen on clanging clappers and wandering the winter nights.”

I ready my glove. But—

The ball lands four or five meters to my side. Meanwhile, Miyamae dashes past first base.

Hayasaka-san picks up the ball rolling on the field.

“Kirishima-kun, take it seriously.”

Hayasaka-san smiles. I reply, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Let’s switch gears!”

Tachibana-san slaps her glove, rallying the team.

Both of them seem fired up, their competitive spirits ignited.

“I got a hit!”

Miyamae bounces happily on first base.

“Kirishima, you’re terrible at baseball.”

“Just so you know, Miyamae, you were holding the bat backward.”

“Maybe I’ve got a knack for baseball!”

She says that, but when Hayasaka-san retires the next two batters and the teams switch in the bottom of the second, Fukuda-kun hits a fly toward Miyamae’s right field. She completely misjudges the landing spot, shouting “Wah~!” as she scrambles after the ball.

Our defense is solid thanks to Hayasaka-san’s slow pitches, but offensively, even with Miyamae’s weak right field, Sakura Heights’ defense is impenetrable.

Touno’s fastballs are just too quick. Her southpaw pitches leave Yamame-sou’s batters swinging at air.

“It’s fine.”

Hamanami remains unfazed.

“If she’s throwing that fast, she’ll tire out eventually. That’s when we strike. Hayasaka-san’s pitches are so effortless they barely use stamina, so we’ve got the advantage.”

“Look,” Hamanami says.

It’s the bottom of the fourth, Team Yamame-sou’s turn at bat. Hayasaka-san is in the batter’s box.

On the mound, Touno takes off her cap, wiping sweat with her uniform sleeve.

“There’s no way her stamina can hold up. This is the summer Koshien!”

“It’s a winter riverbed, though.”

“After one cycle, everyone’s getting used to Touno-san’s fastballs. If her speed drops now—”

Hamanami’s words are cut off by a loud thwack! Touno’s fastball slams into the catcher’s mitt.

It’s clearly faster than before.

“No way, she’s got another gear?!”

Hamanami’s eyes widen in shock. By the way, she’s a baseball newbie too.

In the end, Hayasaka-san strikes out swinging.

“Let’s just say her big chest got in the way of her swing!”

Hamanami says something like that.

The next batter, Fukuda-kun, gets on base with a walk—but only because he couldn’t react to the ball’s speed and happened to get lucky with balls outside the strike zone. The next batter strikes out, making it two outs with a runner on first, and No. 4, Tachibana-san, steps up.

“Anything can happen now!”

Hamanami says.

“Tachibana-senpai has noodle arms and zero power, but she’s got a knack for making contact. I don’t know how she hits with that swing, but in baseball, if it goes forward, anything’s possible!”

Hamanami clutches a rulebook tightly in her hand.

But despite her hopes, Tachibana-san swings three times without even grazing the ball. Strikeout, three outs, and the teams switch.

Tachibana-san removes her helmet and returns to the bench with a cool demeanor.

“Was the fastball just too quick?”

When Hamanami asks, Tachibana-san replies with a straight face.

“My chest got in the way of my swing.”

“…………”

“My chest is big, so it’s hard to swing the bat.”

“What are you being stubborn about?!”

Hamanami retorts, but Tachibana-san calmly prepares her glove to head back to the field.

“I thought you’d be more into winning.”

I say, and Tachibana-san replies, “I’m already over it.”

“That was fast!”

“I think Hayasaka-san’s the one who wants to win.”

Following Tachibana-san’s gaze, I see Hayasaka-san twirling her arms as she heads to the mound.

“If I don’t give up any runs, our team won’t lose!”

She says something like that.

Her pitches are slow, but her attitude is pure ace.

“Hayasaka-san’s fired up, huh?”

I say, and Tachibana-san replies, “Haven’t you noticed?”

“Hayasaka-san and Touno-san are really going at it.”

“Huh?”

“Before the game started, they were up to something.”

While Tachibana-san was practicing catching rolling balls, she says Hayasaka-san and Touno were talking off to the side of the field.

“Touno-san started it.”

“Touno did?”

Apparently, they had this exchange:

“Hayasaka-san, thank you for the other day.”

“No, thank you for letting me stay over.”

“And…… you were right.”

“About what?”

“I’m his current girlfriend, so I just need to be confident. Kirishima-san said he doesn’t even think about that girl he liked in high school anymore. Even if they met again, it’d just be a bother.”

“……I see.”

“And when Kirishima-san and I were…… you know, doing that, he said even if he tried doing it with that high school girl now, he wouldn’t feel anything.”

“That’s great…… then you can rest easy, right?”

♣♣♣

Hayasaka-san throws her ultra-slow pitch. The batter swings, barely nicking it, and the ball rolls along the first-base line.

I dash forward to grab it, and Hayasaka-san covers first base. I toss it to her glove, and she catches it for a clean out.

“Nice teamwork!”

Hayasaka-san gives me a high-five.

“Kirishima-kun, looking good!”

She pats my chest a couple of times and, for good measure,

“Ehehe!”

She flashes a grin up close. Hayasaka-san, in her cap and uniform, is ridiculously cute.

When I instinctively look away, my eyes land on the Sakura Heights bench by first base. Touno is glaring at us with a scowl.

I get it now. This Hayasaka-san vs. Touno rivalry is happening both on the field as pitchers and off the field.

“Keep it up.”

I pat Hayasaka-san’s back, sending her back to the mound.

There were signs before the game. During catch, during stretches, Touno paired up with me. Normally, she’d hold back in public, but she was being extra clingy.

“When we go to Tokyo, let’s visit all sorts of places and make tons of memories!”

She said stuff like that, pressing against my back and pushing me down while I was doing leg stretches.

It’s the right move for the Hamanami Eight Trigrams Formation. With Tachibana-san and Miyamae around, showing off my closeness with Touno clarifies my stance and discourages the “second girlfriend” idea. That’s what I thought, but—

And when Kirishima-san and I were…… you know, doing that, he said even if he tried doing it with that high school girl now, he wouldn’t feel anything.

What’s with Touno saying that to Hayasaka-san?

I never said anything like that, of course.

Which means Touno deliberately provoked Hayasaka-san.

And if Touno initiated it, she must suspect or know about my past with Hayasaka-san.

When? How? Didn’t we resolve the past during that kotatsu hotpot?

As I’m thinking, the second round begins.

It’s when Touno steps up to bat. This time, she solidly connects with the ball. It sails over Tachibana-san’s head at third, rolling to left field.

It’s an easy double, but Touno stops at first base, where I’m standing.

“Hey, you could’ve gone for second.”

“No way, I’d be out if I tried.”

“Fukuda-kun in left hasn’t even reached the ball yet.”

“Fukuda-san’s got a strong arm.”

That’s not true at all, but Touno stays put at first, settling for a single.

The ball comes back, and Hayasaka-san faces the next batter.

Touno, lingering at first as a runner, takes the chance to poke at my back, teasing me.

“Let’s spend Christmas together too, okay~?”

While saying that, she swaps my cap with hers, covers my eyes from behind, and playfully messes with me. That’s when it happens.

A sharp crack rings out from my glove.

Hayasaka-san threw a pickoff to first. It’s overwhelmingly faster than her pitches to the batter.

“Hayasaka-san, Touno hasn’t taken a single step off the base. No matter how many pickoffs you throw, you can’t get her out……”

“Kirishima-kun, stop playing around and focus on defense.”

“Yes, ma’am……”

Hayasaka-san catches my return throw and starts her pitching motion toward the batter. But then, Touno, as if piling on, speaks to me loud enough for Hayasaka-san to hear.

“Tonight, I’ll cook. Kirishima-san, you said my cooking’s the best, right? That means better than that high school girl’s, doesn’t it?”

It’s easy to forget because of her gentle nature, but Touno’s a pure attacker in volleyball, the type to go all-in. Right now, that aggression is in full force.

And while Hayasaka-san’s matured a bit in college, she’s still a girl with zero tolerance for provocation. Her eyebrows twitch as she pitches to the batter.

The batter hits a pop-up—a first-base fly.

This time, I get under the ball’s landing spot. It’s coming down. I’m ready to catch it—

A sudden impact from the side, and before I know it, I’m flat on my back on the ground.

“Sorry, I bumped into you while chasing the ball.”

Hayasaka-san is straddling me.

“You okay? No injuries?”

She says, patting my body while still on top of me.

“I’m fine. More importantly……”

The ball lies rolling near me on the field.

Touno’s already rounded second base.

“At this rate, they’ll score—”

“I’m more worried about you, Kirishima-kun. You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

She leans in close, her face hovering over mine. Hayasaka-san in her uniform, her sweaty skin, her upper body in the tight outfit, and her pale legs stretching from her shorts.

“Hey, why’s your face red?”

Hayasaka-san leans even closer, whispering in my ear.

“You wouldn’t feel that way with a high school girl, right? No excitement, right?”

“No, that’s—”

“It’s gotta be Touno-san, right? A high school girl would just be a nuisance now, wouldn’t she?”

“You’re really holding a grudge!”

Also, I didn’t say that!

While this is going on, Tachibana-san walks over from third.

“They just scored another run.”

She grabs the collar of Hayasaka-san’s uniform and drags her back to the mound.

Touno, having scored at home, glares at us with her usual “Mmph” face.

This sparks the two of them to abandon the game and start a different kind of showdown.

Touno keeps coming to first base, where I’m stationed. Even when the ball goes to the outfield, she stops at first with a single and teases me. When she’s not on base or at bat, she comes over as a first-base coach.

“Touno-san, it’s great that you love your boyfriend, but how about focusing on the game?”

From the mound, Hayasaka-san, ignoring her own antics, says this with a strained smile.

“This is, you know, contributing to the team by distracting the enemy’s first baseman.”

“Kirishima-kun’s the same whether he’s there or not!”

But when it comes to teasing, Hayasaka-san, being on my team, has the upper hand.

“Kirishima-kun, let’s play catch. A pitcher’s gotta keep their shoulder warm.”

During Team Yamame-sou’s offense, she keeps playing catch with me or says her shoulder’s stiff and invites me to stretch together.

We stretch as a pair, holding hands and pulling overhead or back-to-back, lifting each other.

Hayasaka-san finds every chance for physical contact and says,

“Ugh, I bet even doing this with me, you’re comparing me to her. You’re probably thinking Touno-san’s better. I’m probably not attractive at all to you, Kirishima-kun—not even a girl in your eyes!”

“Wait, you’re rivaling Touno and taking shots at me?”

“But why do you blush when you’re close to me? Why do you look awkward? Touno-san’s watching, you know. Why, huh, why?”

Hayasaka-san and Touno keep escalating. But their battle ends unexpectedly.

With Team Sakura Heights leading 3–0, it’s the bottom of the eighth during Yamame-sou’s offense.

“Sorry.”

Hayasaka-san suddenly lets the tension drain from her shoulders.

“I got a bit too worked up.”

This happens while I’m kneeling, massaging Hayasaka-san’s calf as she sits on the bench, claiming it’s tight.

“Doing this doesn’t even mean anything.”

Hayasaka-san gazes into the distance with a mature expression, like when she’s in her seaside hometown. Her eyes land on Touno.

Touno, out of stamina, was pulled from the mound in the seventh. Now she’s watching us from the opposing bench with a “Mmmph~” face.

Hayasaka-san tells me I don’t need to massage her leg anymore.

“It doesn’t even hurt.”

“I figured as much.”

Hayasaka-san’s pitching form doesn’t use her legs at all. She just stands there, tossing the ball with her hand.

“I just got stubborn because I was provoked.”

“Touno’s watching your reactions, you know.”

“Does she know I was the one you were in love with in high school?”

“It’s still just a suspicion, I think.”

Maybe I slipped up somewhere. Surely Hamanami’s strategy didn’t backfire.

Hayasaka-san stares into the distance, pauses thoughtfully, and says in a deliberately light tone,

“Kirishima-kun, you don’t have to go on dates with me anymore.”

“You mean……”

“Yeah, you don’t have to stay over anymore either. No more ‘our word is law’ stuff.”

She’s saying she’s stepping away from the secret arrangement with Tachibana-san and Miyamae, hidden from Touno.

“I don’t want to hurt Touno-san, and I want to face Fukuda-kun’s feelings honestly. I can’t keep doing this with you, Kirishima-kun.”

Then, Hayasaka-san lets out a small “Ah.”

“But in front of Tachibana-san and Miyamae-san, let’s keep up the act, okay?”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to ruin their feelings.”

Hayasaka-san explains,

“I’m stepping away, but I don’t think what Tachibana-san and Miyamae-san are doing is wrong. I get how they feel. I don’t want it to seem like what they value isn’t important anymore just because I’m done. That’s not how it is……”

“Got it.”

“Now it’s your turn, Kirishima-kun.”

“My turn for what?”

“If Fukuda-kun and I start dating, you’ll have to watch it up close.”

“Guess so.”

“Feel free to get super jealous!”

Hayasaka-san says with a laugh.

“I’m gonna go make up with Touno-san.”

She starts walking toward the opposing bench.

But she turns back and says,

“I’m stepping off the mound.”

“Our ace leaving? That’s worrying for the team.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Hayasaka-san says,

“As long as you hold it together, Kirishima-kun, everything will be okay.”

♣♣♣

I put on my helmet and take practice swings in the on-deck circle.

The game has reached the bottom of the ninth. Sakura Heights still leads 3–0.

With Hayasaka-san off the mound, Fukuda-kun takes over for Yamame-sou and cleanly retires the side in the top of the ninth. To the opposing batters, Fukuda-kun’s normal pitches must seem like fastballs after Hayasaka-san’s.

On the other hand, Sakura Heights’ new pitcher, replacing Touno, throws slower. Yamame-sou’s batters, used to Touno’s speed, are starting to make contact.

The bottom of the ninth starts with No. 4, Tachibana-san.

Tachibana-san solidly hits a single to right field. Daidouji-san follows with a bunt attempt toward the pitcher. The opposing pitcher throws to second for a double play, but Tachibana-san, surprisingly quick, slides into second just before the throw.

Daidouji-san reaches first in the meantime—no outs, runners on first and second.

Huh? Are we suddenly playing real baseball? But the sixth and seventh batters strike out, spinning their bats as usual.

With two outs and runners on first and second, it feels like game over. But the eighth batter, a guy who usually studies Latin, slyly leans into an inside pitch, earning a dead ball.

Bottom of the ninth, two outs, bases loaded, three runs behind—I’m up to bat.

I take my practice swings and step into the batter’s box.

“Kirishima-san, a home run here means a walk-off comeback!”

Coach Hamanami shouts from the bench.

“You can do it, Kirishima-san! Your batting average with runners in scoring position beats Tachibana-san’s!”

We haven’t played enough baseball for that kind of stat, but I step into the box and face the pitcher.

First pitch, a high fastball down the middle—I swing and miss. The second and third pitches I let go, both called balls. One ball, two strikes.

“Kirishima, swing!”

Daidouji-san calls from second base.

“No swing, no meaning. Swing!”

Duke Ellington was talking about music, not baseball, but I swing anyway and miss—two strikes.

The next pitch is a close one on the outside. I let it go—ball.

“The stage is set! Time for a dramatic move! Remember your three years of grueling practice. Now’s the time it pays off!”

I’m not a high school ballplayer and haven’t practiced for three days, let alone three years, but Hamanami’s in full-on hype mode.

“Bottom of the ninth, two outs, bases loaded, full count! Sure, they might have more raw talent! But show them the thrill of a game with no timeout!”

It’s just amateur baseball, but the bench’s energy is infectious, and I’m getting pumped.

I step out, take a breath, and return to the batter’s box.

I ready my bat, but the pitcher, looking nervous, takes off their cap and wipes sweat with their sleeve.

That’s when I notice, behind the opposing bench, Touno and Hayasaka-san standing side by side, looking friendly.

Touno catches my gaze and waves, her expression bright.

Next to her, Hayasaka-san flashes a small peace sign, just for me.

I’m gonna go make up with Touno-san.

True to her word, Hayasaka-san reconciled with Touno.

She’s so mature, I think.

Time moves forward. Things we couldn’t do before, for better or worse, we’ve learned to handle.

We’re no longer in that sharp, youthful era of piercing emotions. The season of intense feelings has passed, the heat of our skin fades, and gentler days approach.

Of course, as Hamanami would say, it’s not just joyful—it’s a bit bitter too.

Hayasaka-san’s smile and little peace sign send a small pang through my chest.

But this is okay.

Hayasaka-san said no more dates, no more staying over.

She’s stepping away from being the second girlfriend.

Everything ends like this, turning into memories.

The pitcher starts their motion.

I ready my bat.

The bitter end will come eventually.

I make a childish wish.

If I can hit this ball—

If I can make contact, everyone will be happy. A promise with God. Even if this moment is a bit bitter, in the future, everyone will find happiness.

Two outs, full count—the pitcher winds up, and the runners take off.

I lift my foot, timing the pitch.

A high inside fastball. The scenery, the ball—everything’s crystal clear.

Someday, we’ll look back at a photo of today.

By then, we’ll be adults, looking at a picture of everyone in uniforms, thinking, Wow, that happened, with a nostalgic smile.

Memories stay in photos. Emotions shift and fade.

We’ll all be looking at that same photo from different places.

Because time keeps moving us forward.

I wish.

May everyone find happiness.

The ball comes. No swing, no meaning.

I swing my bat. And I pray.

The white ball soars high into the blue sky.