Denpa Onna to Seishun Otoko Vol 3 Chapter 6

If, hypothetically, there exists telepathy.

If that is true, then we can know what each other want. No matter how you see it, that should be a good thing.

…Well, it is just hypothetically speaking: humans don’t have any powers in the first place.

Hence the phrase ‘super power,’ to differentiate from ‘talents.’

Let’s ignored what I just said — something else is far more troubling.

‘The ability to read mind’ — what if it’s applied to oneself?

We are aware of what we want, be it tangible or otherwise: everything is exposed and completely grasped. Yet, if we wish for it all to come true, it isn't possible. How could it, anyway?

Even if I were to know all questions before hand, scoring a hundred percent on a test isn’t that simple.

At least for me, I don’t have that ability to fill out all the s.p.a.ces in that given amount of time.

Things that must be given up piled up like a hill — no, — like a mountain.

So much so that I bet I can make it into a tourism spot if I named it.

Therefore, at the time, leaving the youth football team wasn’t a difficult choice, but a natural course of action.

I still think so, to this day. Even in the future, I will not regret it. My parents said nothing as well.

The money (which came from two-years’ worth of my allowance) spent on uniforms and cleats were wasted, but otherwise my life went on unchanged.

Emotions like a sense of inferiority, or frustration shrunk, flattening entirely.

I didn’t have to head to the field under that bridge with my parents on the weekends any more, so suddenly I’m met with free times. Too much free time. So I started playing games for entire days. It’s fun in its own way, I guess.

Knowing there is another way to spend time besides playing football, I rejoiced.

What remained was the ‘barrier.’

Me and my friends didn’t play football after school any more. Subconscious avoidance, as well as me telling them ‘I’m just done with it’ with shrugged shoulders worked like water and oil: close but never together.

And perhaps because of that, I became withdrawn. My skin turned pale, and I stopped getting hurt. Probably due to lose exercise, I ate less too and lost weight. The environment changed, like chameleons from their emotions. The initial bizarre feeling from the changes faded, eventually disappearing.

After since, I started to use ‘giving up’ as a way to move on.

In other words, I took the path of least resistance.

…Yet.

Just as I lived with such a way, for some reason, during the summer this year, this strange thing showed up.

A crazy, gibberish-spouting and self-talking girl in s.p.a.ce suit: Hos.h.i.+miya Yas.h.i.+ro.

She said I have ‘potential.’

Another way to put it is someone close to obtaining super power.

From where on me has she determined that quality?

What Yas.h.i.+ro professed as a forward motion invisible to the eyes, impossible to discern.

I could not catch up to even a speed like that.

“So, the real game is tomorrow. It’s gonna be the big one.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you joining us, transfer student?”

Maekawa-san spoke tauntingly; a tiny needle stabbed into my left ear.

“I’m not doing a thing, as usual… But, is there a point to it?”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Uh, I mean we’ve lost every game so far. I just don’t think we have a chance.”

“Well, frankly speaking we’ve only been practising so far. I predict that Hanazawa will leave halfway through the game~”

‘She doesn’t look too thrilled~’ So that’s the extent of Maekawa-san’s accuracy.

August 8th, evening. The official game was tomorrow, the day when the city side and shopping district will compete for victory.

If it rains, no game. Refer to the Tamura Shop if you want snacks, and the minimum spending is 300 yen! Dang, I’m quite the merchant!

Since the imagination was in the voice of Tamura Obaa-san instead of Meme-san, I scared myself a little. Well, maybe she’s the hardworking type when she was young.

Perhaps because of the rain this morning, cool air pervaded the afternoon despite the cleared sky. The night, too, was chilly when we came to the yard. It might have been due to the dampened gra.s.s under our feet. Even the cicadas were reticent tonight.

“I mean, it’s just a festival. Why does it matter where it’s held?”

“For those grown ups it matters in all sorts of way. So… That’s a yes for you?”

“Hm… Yes.”

“And Touwa?”

Erio delighted at the cloudless sky, happily observing Pluto next to me. But at the moment, she seemed to be piqued by the phone, occasionally shooting me a glance.

Just like that — like playing a game of Stoplight, she would peek at me, only to look away quickly when we make eye contact. I grabbed her by the back of her collar, ‘Uwah.’ ‘Erio, you wanna play baseball tomorrow?’ and asked. Unlike with basketball, she moved her chin downward.

“She’s coming.” I let go; her stiffened back instantly collapsed as she scurried away. She then jumped back to the telescope like she was going to bite it, once again watching the sky from below.

“Alright. I suppose I will have to get in the proper attire tomorrow!”

“Are you going to wear your secret giant squid outfit?”

“There’s gonna be a fantastic ‘surprise!’”

“We’re not going to a hobby goup, you know.”

We both laughed, and finally hung up. I put the phone back into my pocket and sat closer to Erio. Her hair waved left and right, while she enthusiastically sketched on the notebook. Looks like this will continue till the end of the summer break.

“Cousin, are you done with phone?”

“Hm.” I acknowledged.

“Then, watch the stars.” She emptied up the spot to the telescope for me.

Well, since I’m already here, I might as well do some stargazing… Whoa~ I was slightly awed. Even a casual glance could reveal that the scenery is different every day. Pluto moves fast, apparently.

If the changes that occur every day is as obvious as this, then living must be much more motivating and fulfilling.

According to Yas.h.i.+ro, people would spend decades to move just a few centimetres.

Normally, we would cower at that.

“Hey.” I walk over to the opposite side, asking a question to a smiling Erio.

“Mm?”

“Why do you play baseball with us?”

Erio jolted; she shut her lips into a line. Perhaps realizing that she couldn’t talk this way, she frantically opened the seal again:

“It’s… It’s a secret.” She pursed her lips again.

“…Well, whatever.”

Ending the conversation, I looked up at Pluto again.

Is Nakajima, Hanazawa-san and Hos.h.i.+miya Yas.h.i.+ro coming as well?

The impending day of battle.

Rather than worrying about that, I was more concerned with the fact that the summer is halfway over.

“Chang~ chang~ Kachang~ Chang~”

“Chang~ Chang~ Kachang~ Chang~”

“Chang~ Chang chang~ Chang chang~ Chang chang chang chang~”

Somebody watching from the side might be wondering, ‘what kind of family is this?’

August 9th. On the morning when the sun was barely poking out of the horizon. Rays projecting from between the buildings were still faint, and without the usual ferocity of the current season. Gales blew, carrying away a proper amount of heat from the skin — Indeed it was a weather fitting for sports.

On that morning, the three members of the Touwa Household lined up in the yard and did the radio callisthenics diligently… While adding their own music. Starting from the right were Erio, Me and Meme-san.

Usually hiding in the bed or lying down on the hallway at this time, Meme-san was for some reason awoke this morning, joining us in the exercise. She looked like she spent a night outside, with that tired look, messy hair and untidy s.h.i.+rt.

“Chang~ Chang~ Chang Chang~ Chang~ Chang~ Lala~ Lala~”

Erio performed with a blank look, beginning stretching her arms.

But I was doing my legs, while Meme-san worked her waist.

The three of us occasionally lost our unity. Everyone had forgotten about the order. After all, the last time me and Erio did this was four years ago, and Meme-san must have been I will say no more.

Despite being sloppy, the warm-up forcibly continued. I’ve witnessed three times when Meme-san was just doing random things. Looks like she has the tendency of just doing whatever when she forget.

The final breathing part was when all three of us finished together. “Ah. Someone has to go stamp on the card.” Meme-san mumbled sleepily and drifted back home. Is she okay?

Well, I question her sanity even when she’s awake, so what’s the point of asking now?

“Well, let’s get ready to go.”

“Ready to go~” Erio repeated after me like a little girl. If she’s able to put more intonation in her normal speech, she’d be wonderful like a regular human.

I entered before Erio. After taking my sandals off I stopped her with a gesture. “Mmm~” Ignoring her strange growl, I proceeded into the kitchen. I had to give her a wet rag for her feet. The moment I told her to not go out barefoot, she sprinted outside. Unlike a teenager’s rebellious phase, it was closer to a child throwing a tantrum.

“I’m grabbing a rag.”

“Oh.” After a brief exchange with Meme-san, who was was.h.i.+ng her face in the kitchen, I returned to the entrance with a dampened rag. “Here.” I tossed it to Erio. She grabbed it and, without hiding her resentment, gave two careless scrubs under her feet.

“Clean!”

“No, It’s not.”

“The galaxy is weeping from your bullying!”

“I see we have graduated from the U.S. now.”

I’m the one cleaning the floor this summer, you know. You’re more than welcomed to help out, ex-ch.o.r.e helper. Though It will be a disaster if she’s responsible for that.

“Sorry for the wait~” Someone was waiting? I turned with the question in mind.

Finished with tidying herself up, Meme-san exited from the kitchen. Her sleepiness disappeared, and she’s even showing her motherliness with foil-wrapped rice b.a.l.l.s in her hands; I almost thought it was someone else.

Just FYI, she was actually wearing the attendance card on her neck. Isn’t that the card for collecting points during the spring bread festival?

“Here you are. Lunch. I woke up just to make you this.”

“I will gladly accept it.” I involuntarily answered like a subordinate to a boss.

Maybe it’s because Meme-san was suddenly doing something, so it’s only natural that I was taken aback. Had she changed due to the lack of appearance?

“You have to have lunch if you’re going to play, right? I used to make lots of food for Eri-chan too!”

“It’s true. I spent a whole day eating at the beach.”

Continuing from Meme-san’s recollection, Erio joyfully ascribed the ins-and-out of the story. Was that when Erio was still normal? For her, it was probably one of the most cherished memories.

“Do you want to save it till we’re there?”

“Mm.” Erio nodded while hugging the rice b.a.l.l.s carefully. “It’s a bento.” She’s not wrong.

I let Erio, who claimed to have cleaned her feet, put on her shoes. Shoes aren’t meant to be put on her feet, I thought while looking down. I too changed into my shoes and grabbed the key to my padlock from the shelf.

“We’re going now.”

“Going~”

“Now~”

The three of us shared a mysterious greet. Well, mine’s pretty normal, but I felt like I would be considered as one of them anyway. Sad, really.

Once again we exited from the entrance. I headed toward the shed for my bike. Meme-san mentioned that she wanted to clean the storage during summer, so she asked me to; but I’d completely forgotten about that. Anyway, I moved the bicycle outside into the yard. I’ve gotten used to it, and now I can actually do a wheelie.

With a dislike for the empty backseat, Erio hopped into her spot in the basket. I still baffle at the mentality. According to Maekawa-san’s previous report, her b.u.t.t hurt. So what does Erio think? Asking if a girl’s feet hurt is acceptable, but not so much when it comes to their b.u.t.t. What a strange world we live in. Hmmm, but do I even see Erio as a girl?

Is it really okay to see my cousin Eri-chan as a girl~? I thought.

I straddled onto the seat, and began the plain, normal routine of saying ‘here we go.’ ‘Go~’

We headed out. But, at that precise moment.

Instead of seeing us off from the door with a ‘ride safely~’ Meme-san shouted and ran over ‘wait~’

Strapped across her back was a bag of unknown content.

“Oh~ I guess I am tagging along after all~”

“Wait, you’re coming with us?” My judgement said what you meant was to leave without you.

“I wanna see Erio and Mako-kun play~!”

“Okay I get it, fine — so stop s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around!” And don’t choke my neck!

Meme-san hugged my waist and hopped onto the rack. The bicycle tipped leftward from the impact.

“Whoah, oh~” Even Erio hurriedly held onto the basket’s rim.

The long-awaited Touwa trio rode together. Letting Erio and Meme-san sit on the bike, I proceeded to the river side.

Occasionally I want to palm my face for not considering anything wrong with this picture.

Yet, even this sigh of regret seemed to be washed away by the water of forgetting. With the way things are now, the destruction of doubt is but an issue of time, slowly approaching me.[1]

Meme-san actually has her own bicycle, so why doesn’t she use it?

…I asked myself in the corner of my mind.

Riverbank. During weekends, people were usually seen playing rugby with their kids. Is soccer not that popular with kids now? It’s a good thing, I think.

I left my bicycle and walked down the bank. The sun had yet shone onto this riverside field at dawn.

The horizon of the rising sun expanded, casting a shadow on the ground.

A few people were practising defence on the field as warmup. They were the old guys on the shopping district team. Yamamoto-san was among them. Were they finally getting ready for the official game?

Oh, a high school girl was already sitting on the bench of our resting area. A familiar girl, at that.

“Hey~ ya~”

A calming tone and a naïve wave. In a cute casual outfit, she covered her hair with a safety helmet.

Mifune Ryuus.h.i.+-san beckoned at me. Unless I was wrong, she probably wasn’t waving at the Erio a step behind me. Noticing Ryuus.h.i.+-san’s presence, Erio retreated.

I had realized the possibility of being trapped in this pickle between Erio and Ryuus.h.i.+-san, but I approached the resting area fearlessly. “Yo~” I raised my hand lightly and began probing. “What’s going on today?”

“The Onee-san from around told me about the game, so I came here to cheer for Niwa-kun!”

She smiled widely, swinging her dangling legs back and forth. I appreciate her coming all the way here.

After that, a shade cast on Ryuus.h.i.+-san’s smile. The focus of her eyes moved to Erio.

“Uh… Touwa-san too… Um… Good mornin’.”

Despite her stare drifting off, Ryuus.h.i.+-san greeted Erio courteously.

Why did she hesitate? I guess, from her appearance, Erio does seem more fitting with an English line.

“G-good… Morninging.”

Erio, too, awkwardly responded colloquially. It was probably not because she stuttered that she repeated herself. I think. Then she scanned about, mumbling something she had discovered.

“Mom, is gone.”

Ah, she is. We rode here together, but what happened afterwards escaped me… What a strange incidence that a forty-year old with such conspicuous presence could vanish. I looked up the bank to see if she was there. “Ah.”

Instead I noticed a different creature. The thing riding on a bicycle nimbly in that outfit, though hard to identify from a distance, is undoubtedly Maekawa-san. What a terrifying sight.

If fishes never stop evolving, would they perhaps traverse the land like that?

The creature that got off her bicycle and trod over on her fins… What the h.e.l.l is that?

Wrapped in an enigmatic costume with a daikon-like colour, Maekawa-san raised her hand (fin).

“Yo, aren’t you early. You too, Ryuus.h.i.+.”

“I told ya to call me Ryuuko…” Oh man, she’s confused! Even Ryuus.h.i.+-san was disconcerted.

“Maekawa-san… What, is that?” I asked in lieu of the three of us.

“A dugong.” I’m a mermaid~ She posed after flicking her bangs.

“…” Despite having seeing it once in an aquarium.

Do dugongs have leg fins? No — they don’t even have legs.

“Oi~” At then, shouting came from the field. “Do you want to practice~?” Yamamoto-san called to us. “I’m coming~” I waved back.

Since Ryuus.h.i.+-san came for me, I figured the least I could do was to show her my best.

As for the bento, I’ll save till practice is over.

“Can you hold on to this for me?” I rest the rice b.a.l.l.s onto Maekawa-san’s fins.

“Sure. Who made these?”

“My aunt.”

I put the baseball cap left on the corner of the bench.

“Here, glove.” Ryuus.h.i.+-san handed something she casually found to me.

“Thanks.” I put my left hand in it… Isn’t this for the catcher? Whatever.

“Do you best, Niwa-kun~!”

Ryuus.h.i.+-san waved gently. Yep, that’s how a manager should be.

As for the Miss Fishy who attended to that role prior — as much as I appreciated the food… She’s not the manager, but our mascot.

Now we can say that the Maekawa Dugong is, beyond any doubt, our official mascot; she had transcended from being a fish to a mammal! …Wait.

“Ryuus.h.i.+-san, aren’t you supposed to cheer for the city team?” I had to be sure.

“Hey, now~ Did ya already forget, Niwa-kun~?”

She stuck her thumb out and grinned a toothy smile.

“I’m with ya, Niwa-kun!”

She blushed. We blushed too. She said such embarra.s.sing thing in front of all these people we know. Erio looked displeased, and even Maekawa-san… What kind of face was that? She hid in the costume.

“Dang~ now that’s being young~”

“Why must Ryuus.h.i.+-san also play as the cheering audience?”

“’Cuz I’m embarra.s.sed! Like, kaboom!”

I didn’t get it. Fl.u.s.tered, I could not look at the resting area. I ran toward the field to wait for my turn.

“Cousin, is the rice ball good?”

“Hm, it is. What, it’s not like you made it, Erio.”

“I know.” But she’s still glad. As though she herself had been complimented, Erio beamed with a smile.

She really loves her mom. Is it because Meme-san spoils her too much? Or is it because Erio loves her mom so much that she couldn’t help but spoil her? These two are just like the chicken and the egg.

Eating our breakfast together, Erio and I waited for the time to come.

Our opponents were a little late, but they still gathered just enough people before the match. Naturally, Nakajima and Hanazawa-san were among them. Even the s.p.a.ce-girl who guards the left field was standing in front of the shopping district team.

…I didn’t consider Yas.h.i.+ro as a threat, since she’s never done anything exceptional. Similar to me, she’s just there to fill the number.

“Rice ball~”

“Falling down~” [2]

Ryuus.h.i.+-san and Maekawa-san watched me and Erio eat. We couldn’t finish all this food, so I raised one of the rice b.a.l.l.s up in the air. A hand and a fin began battling. The hand won easily. “Ahh~”

The dugong pa.s.sed out from the intense exercise. Being able to make it here was already a miracle on its own. I’m not just kidding — I am genuinely concerned for the human being known as Maekawa-san, since she already struggles so much living as one.

Perhaps due to the food being made by her mother, Erio attempted to stuff them in her mouth. “Urgh.” You’re a light weight, so don’t be so reckless. it’d be terrible if your glove catches something out of your mouth instead.

In any case, we’re fed and ready. Everyone on the shopping district team besides Maekawa dad gathered.

“Where’s your dad?” I asked the daughter.

“He ran off from the pressure.” She calmly stated, rousing the crowd. Who’s going to pitch now?

When the noise failed to cease, before the game started, ‘she’ walked over from the river. With what itinerary did it result with her coming from there? I don’t want to know. But we came from the same house, using the same bike, and she somehow ended up there. Did she take a long route?

Touwa Meme-san made her debut in a different outfit.

“What are you wearing?”

“Hmhm~ I changed by the river. Ah~ What a shame, Mako-kun! You could have seen me change if you went there! Is your libido radar working, young man?!”

“I think it’s working just fine.” Since I successfully ignored you.

“Wahahah! I almost thought I had no chance of appearing now that it’s almost ending, so I struck first! If the final boss of a c.r.a.ppy game isn’t as tenacious as I am, he is just a waste of pixels!”

The words pouring out of Meme-san’s mouth were largely broken, echoing loudly. Meme-san, who had returned, changed into a baseball uniform. From what school is that from?

Must have been what was in that bag, but more fundamentally: how did she get it?

“And so, I gave up on being the beautiful manager, and am now the beautiful coach!”

“You’ve misplaced the ‘gave up’ there.”

This person… She’s more of a ‘forty-years old ★’ than a ‘forty-years old.’

“Mm~ I don’t really know much about the rules in baseball, but I guess I will work on cheering everyone up!”

There’s really only one person who’d get cheered up by her in this team: the rocket guy. I glanced over, seeing him staring obliviously at Meme-san. I dread the ageing of eyes.

Maekawa-san came to my side; I rudely pointed at the laughing Meme-san and asked.

“The h.e.l.l is wrong with her?”

“Uh~ A surprise?”

“This is too much.”

“Ahahah.” What a phony laugh. “Nothing wrong with a little fun before the festival, right?’

Maekawa-san is too good at adapting. And what kind of festival is this? I know the saying ‘a party starts in the morning,’ but I guarantee you that it never works in real life.

“Team, gather up!”

The self-named beautiful coach knocked on the bench and summon everyone.

“This is everyone, coach.”

Let’s observe for now. There were folks who aren’t kids who still need the reminder.

“But Maekawa ain’t here.”

“Yeah~ So who’s pitchin’?”

“Are we lettin’ the youngins throw?”

“Who played baseball here?”

“If only it’s croquet.”

“Or pool.”

“This ain’t sumthing’ you can do just because it’s a ball!”

“Ah~ah~ Please quiet down, everyone.”

Meme-san suppressed the adults’ clamouring and focused their attention.

Rather, the team didn’t express any apparent disdain or disagreement, seeing Meme-san as their coach.

Is this alright? Setting the nervous Yamamoto-san aside, as I the only one who’s fatigued and generally pessimistic?

Erio, on the other hand, admired her mother who had undertaken the role of leader.

Meme-san scanned to confirm our undivided attention, nodding satisfyingly. Even with the referee shouting at us to line up, our coach paid him no mind.

Ryuus.h.i.+-san, who had backed off after the uproar, returned to me and whispered.

“Isn’t that Mochi-mochi sensei?”

“Hm.” I almost asked ‘who’s that?’ “That’s Erio’s mom.”

“So she’s Niwa-kun’s Aunt… I have to call her Oba-sama!”

“She’ll kill you for that, so you shouldn’t.” And why the honorific?

Meme-san coughed, adjusting her tone before speaking out.

“Ahem, listen up, everyone!”

“That’s from a different genre.” [3]

“Mako-kun has a soft spot for a girl’s aroma. Keep a close eye on him for your socks.”

“I’m so going to kill you.”

See? I was right. I’m no G.o.d of death, yet all of my most unfortunate premonition came true. Actually, since I live with Meme-san, there’s something that bothered me.

“I have a question, coach.” I raised my arm for permission to speak.

“Okay, Mako-kun is coming clean.”

Is it really something I can come clean to? Unless she’s implying something else?

“You usually complain about extended coverage for baseball on TV: do you really know how to play baseball?”

“If we’re talking about pa.s.sion, then I won’t lose to anyone!”

“Where’s the pa.s.sion in that?! Shouldn’t we be more worried now?!”

“Hey! You’re sitting out for talking back to your coach, Mako-kun! Or better yet, you’re going to become my chair!”

“Are you the devil?!” Or a brat?!

“Setting that aside, coach, we have a bigger problem.” Maekawa dugong stepped up as the advisor.

“Mm, and what could that be, cutie part-timer?” Part time? For what?

“We’ve ran into a serious problem: there’s a severe lack of pitchers after my dad left.”

“Pitchers…? Why do we need water for baseball?”

“We don’t need you either!”

“Then, we can have Eri-chan play as that pitcher thing!”

“What~?!” How did that lead to this?!

“The coach’s orders are absolute~! Listen up: get in line!”

Our overly-reliable coach booted us out. Like bees swarming out of a fallen hive, we scrambled onto the field. Our steps were thing in ‘a line.’

Shoved into a position by her mother who had no understanding of, Erio almost literally foamed herself. [4]

“You got this, Ace!” I nudged her forward. “Wuwuwu…” Her face was pale as though pushed into a river: “D-do you want to switch, cousin?” “Sorry, but I only do football.” A long time ago, anyway. Besides, I actually thought that having Erio as the pitcher might work unexpectedly well. I seriously doubt that Meme-san had any thoughts other than ‘my kid is the best’ though.

Erio looked like she was about to go steal a futon from somewhere; I dragged her as we joined the shopping district team. The city team was already in a line, and — not just annoyed — downright furious waiting for us. Couldn’t be helped. Falling in line with Meme-san’s logic, she’d insist it’s ‘Operation Ganryuu-jima.’[5]

I faced Yas.h.i.+ro when we lined up. Did she have that mysteriously confident smug inside that helmet? I felt our gaze meeting.

The man playing as the referee declared ‘game start.’

We bowed. As my head lowered, I caught a glance of Nakajima — he was smiling.

Let’s do this! I clenched my fist unwittingly.

Going second, the players of the shopping district spread in the field. Coming to our defensive positions, we checked where the sun was as well as the condition of the ground. Even the adults seemed slightly more serious than before. And Erio was, indeed, the pitcher.

She quivered, like a baby deer, atop the pitcher’s mound.

But she’s the only one.

I’d stopped counting after our eighth consecutive defeat.

We’ve been on a losing streak.

This time, things weren’t as simple.

It’s going to be a critical battle.

Defeat x Youth x Denpa — the game will unveil here. [6]

“Too bad, Mako-kun is just a backup.”

“What? I thought you were kidding.”

“Game start!”

“You’re seriously going to sit on me?!”

Actually sitting in the resting area, I asked Meme-san about my mission. Well, I mean, I know I wouldn’t be much help anyway, but Ryuus.h.i.+-san came all the way here for me.

Now I won’t have to embarra.s.s myself — It was, in some way, a type of salvation.

“I would like you, Mako-kun, to go look for the missing dad of Maekawa.”

The coach’s order was to search for our Ace. “Oh…” I shook my head ambiguously… Wait, I’m going to look for Maekawa dad? Face to face?

“Maekawa-chan is going to cover for you when you’re gone.”

Right there~ Maekawa-san pointed at the dugong standing at first base, like she’s looking at a fish in a water tank. Even with the fin stuffed in her glove, she insisted on wearing the outfit. I didn’t know you can play in that getup — goes to show how lax the rules are for the game. If anyone had a problem, we can retort with the s.p.a.ce suit too. Was that why n.o.body said a thing? Um, I digress.

“Why me? Isn’t is easier to have his daughter do that instead?”

And it’s ‘me.’ Having me, whom Maekawa dad was already wary of, find him would only exacerbate the misunderstanding.

“Mm~” Meme-san looked over to the field, smiling like a mother. I didn’t know precisely what of it seemed that way, yet her cheeks and eyes had the same delineation as many other mothers would have.

“Because, if you were to go…”

“If I were to go?”

“It would be quite interesting.”

“…Look.”

She’s actually hoping things would get worse. How could she say something so childish with an expression like that? But that’s part of Meme-san’s ‘charm~’ Could you not fill in the blank for me?!

“You don’t want to?”

“It’d be a pain.”

“No way, no how?”

“Yep.”

“Everyone~ Mako-kun could sniff her aunt’s bed sheet, but he can’t look for his friend’s dad. What an honest —“

“Okay I get it! Please, let me look for him.” Feels like this d.a.m.n joke will stick with me forever.

And I will never forgive the me from April.

“I just love that part of Mako-kun~”

“And I must surrender to that part of you, Oba-san…” My heart had signalled defeat.

“First thing first: there’re a few spots where Maekawa-chan’s dad would be.”

“That is, quite helpful…” Hold up, is this guy a frequent escapee?

Meme-san gestured (and most of that unhelpful) and explained to me Maekawa dad’s escape. There’s a few I’d never been to, but I didn’t really have a choice. As for why Meme-san knew where he went, I pretended to never have the question.

Even if the question was delved into, there probably won’t be another convincing reason other than ‘cuz, she’s Meme-san.’ That’s the type of person my aunt is — and I’m not complimenting her.

Still, looking for someone… Was it necessary to have me do that? I mean, there’s no denying that if I were to run off, the team wouldn’t take too much of a hit, but… Is running an errand better than sitting on the bench?

“Speaking of which, that soft-cheeked cutie there looks upset. I wonder what’s wrong?”

With me in the middle, Meme-san stared at a bored-looking Ryuus.h.i.+-san. Soft-cheeked cutie… She does look that from the side. What a spot-on nickname from Meme-san. I wanted to poke her face.

“I’m here to see Niwa-kun play.”

Yet he’s not playing~ Ryuuko is troubled~! She said so with a distraught look.

“Fufufu, just you watch. Mako-kun will be back at when we need him the most, and he’ll show ‘em.”

Not just toward Ryuus.h.i.+-san, but also me, Meme-san comforted us so.

“So before then, just sit and wait.” I thought you’re the coach though?

“Um, I dunno much about baseball. Ya just smack the ball far, right?”

“That’s correct.” I interrupted.

“Mm, mm.” As though affected, Meme-san too nodded.

“And, if ya hit someone standing you’re out.”

“…Right.” That sounds a little problematic though.

“And ya switch after nine people are out!”

“This isn’t darts.”

Man~ I got up from the bench and skimmed the field once.

Erio and the catcher guy were having a secret discussion on the pitcher’s mound. Only, Erio was looking down at the cover of her ‘Intro to Baseball.’

“What can ya throw?”

“Mm, ball.”

“No, no, what I mean is…”

“Remote, pizza, rags, books. No telescopes… Mm?”

“Stay sharp~!”

I won’t claim that that’s what they said, but the catcher dashed back to the outside of the infield with hopeless gaits.

Setting the book down where the talc powder bags would be on the mound, she shouted flatly “Uwoh~” to raise moral, before throwing out the first pitch to Nakamura-san.

Alongside with a deflating yell, the ball flying out of Erio’s hand traced out a fittingly-flat trajectory. Having to hit Maekawa dad’s fast pitches for so long, however, this proved to be challenging to hit. Without adjusting his speed, Nakamura-san swung the bat early. The missed swing threw him off balance; the ball landed into the catcher’s glove.

“Kyah~ Eri-chan is so cool~!”!

Meme-san bounced around in the resting area with a bit — my bad, a very shrill voice, cheering her daughter. Embarra.s.sed as she was, Erio, her long haired tied into a tail exiting from the back of the baseball cap, still smiled bashfully at her mother’s voice. She seemed more relaxed now.

…It took me that much effort to squeeze out a peep, yet Meme-san easily cheered for Erio. Her voice was ridiculously loud. Her courageousness was truly amazing. I stared, in awe, at the coach who hopped as though still doing her radio callisthenics,

Was it that? The way you lose things with skills when you get older? I’m not quite there yet.

The only thing left inside was regret.

Erio faced the second batter Nakajima with the same slow-speed. But that wasn’t the only thing: aside from her velocity, Erio had perfect control of the ball. That somehow became our ace in the sleeve.

I guess so, huh. Cringe surged before any sign of being impressed.

She was able to accomplish to strange act of ‘tossing a pizza to the futon roll’s upper part.’ She might have learned the proper stance from then. From the standpoint of the basics though, it’s quite the annoying kind, like those meaningless special training in a sports manga.

Looks like it’s applicable for even amateur baseball.

Despite the lack of speed, it had control.

‘Counter strength with grace:’ it’s a quality often attached onto the protagonists of recent baseball manga.

Or I guess it’s already been done before, like a certain manga with hands held high or some Lycaon teams.[7]

“…You can do it.”

Toward a trembling Erio, I voiced out my support that likely never reached her.

Then I walked toward the bicycle parked on top of the bank.

Unable to become a hero, I once again could only struggle on the side of the stage.

It’s both a search for the missing Maekawa dad, as well as a time to buffer for myself.

If I take a little more time, I might even miss the entire game. It’s not like I would be doing that intentionally.

Even if someone came to cheer me on, I can’t meet their expectation — so I ‘gave up’. I could even say I was ‘forced into it.’ No matter how anyone says it, I have impeccable excuses.

I was a backup when I played football, and there’s nothing I could do to escape my parents’ eyes. With that in mind, I suppose I am luckier this time around.

My opponent was Hanazawa-san. Playing will just embarra.s.s me. I don’t practise every day like Ryuus.h.i.+-san — despite the both of us being backups, It’s just not possible.

So I’ll run. It’s the big game today, so there’s no next time, right? Give up now, and Ryuus.h.i.+-san will never get the chance to watch me again.

You’ve always been complacent, haven’t you?

Let’s say you got the chance to play back then, did you have the gall to say you will be kicking some a.s.s? You’ll just fail more miserably in a physical sense, in front of your parents, would you not? Being a benchwarmer was just a hideout someone else set up for you. You’re just given an easier way out this time now that you’re older.

Isn’t that right, Mr. Niwa?

I tried to convince the lasts of the neurons in my head, droning on the revelation I’ve just received.

I indeed listened and a.s.sented quietly to this lecture to myself.

“……”

Even so, I pedalled till sweat drenched me on this cool morning.

While wondering where my thought should go, I arrived at the third location.

Following a shambling Maekawa dad, I slowed down to avoid getting ahead, as well as to appear less menacing.

Truth to be told, I already found him, but he’d been running away. Things had been like this for a quite a while.

Maekawa dad was just about to enter one of the locations, the theatre next to the manga café in front of the station; after discovering me, he disappeared almost as soon as my mouth opened. Chasing after him was my only choice.

At the moment, Maekawa dad toiled up the hill that Ryuus.h.i.+-san and I often part at, where the sky bridge is. He climbed, breathless, as though he might vomit at any moment.

People might mistake him as a boxer put under a weight loss regime, and I the specialist riding on a bike placed to train him.

“Wh… why are you following me~?”

Holding his scattered breathes, he inquired behind him.

“Uh, cuz you’re running, so…”

“I’m not running. I’m just doing a little soul searching~!”

“What are you going to find around where you live?”

Phew~ Phew! Even with different intermit, Maekawa dad and I exhaled the same kind of air.

Nausea plastered my skull, and my head hurt even more. The battle had commenced on the riverside, yet here I am sweating somewhere else. With that being one of the reason, I almost pa.s.sed out.

On top of the bridge, at the tolling station, Maekawa dad collapsed.

“This… This is more tiring… Than the game…”

“Me… Too…”

I dropped next to Maekawa dad on my bike. The below and arm rubbed painfully against the asphalt road, yet nothing else delighted me more than lying still. The contrast between my burning flesh and the slight warmth in the road almost gave me the impression that it was comfortable.

“Are… Are you sure it’s fine for you to be here…?”

Turning from face up to face down, Maekawa dad moaned a question. I worried that the pa.s.sers-by would mistake us as a father and a son pa.s.sing out from the heat.

“I… I’m the bench… Your daughter, is filling-in for me.”

The dugong that must be the star of a certain aquarium must be out playing on the field as the one-day player (like a one-day director). Oi~! Guys~! Let’s go back to the river now! …Calm down, me. Come on now, brain cells.

“Is… Is that right? My daughter’s… Pitchin’?”

“No, Erio’s pitching… You’re our ace, sir, yet you ran off.”

And making me come get you all the way out here. As though matching the descriptor ‘rise and s.h.i.+ne,’ the sun roasted us on top of the bridge. If we were to lose consciousness, we’d probably dream about being grilled.

“How rude... It’s because... it’s the official game that I’m carefully planning out my game.”

“Weren’t you about to head into the theatre...?”

“That wasn’t… Hold on. Let’s catch our breathes first.”

“Yes.” To solve the difficulty that was not having even the air to say a simple phrase, I shut my mouth and repeatedly breathed deeply.

The wind blew more violently than usual on the bridge; the air we so needed was more than abundant. Only, it was hot almost to a point of burning even the mouth and the nostril. In no time my throat dried, and my eyes painful. I don’t know if it’s just me, but my face hurts whenever I’m dehydrated.

While the problem of hydration has surfaced, our breathing had reached a point where we could be less than unsightly.

We both got up and sat on the rocks on the bridge. “You good?” “Yep.”

Perhaps Maekawa dad was staring at me with the idea that I’m his daughter’s something, his gazes were pointed.

That reminded me of the football coach I had.

“So why exactly are you here?”

“I’m here to get you back, sir.”

“I don’t wanna!”

Maekawa dad followed the cars pa.s.sing by and refused. His fingers curled up, making him look like a girl too shy to speak.

“That girl’s pitch is too good! We ain’t winnin’ that!”

“For the most part I agree.” Makes me wonder that she’s in the wrong story.

“Think about it from my shoes: I have to play against someone like that! We’re gonna lose anyway, yet I have to keep pitchin’! And if we lose, it’s my fault as the pitcher! I’ve had enough.”

Maekawa dad expanded his arms and stuck his chest forward, as if releasing something. Battered by the wind, his lanky form almost fell back into the road. If a car drove by then, Maekawa dad would need an ambulance and actually say bye-bye to the river bank.

“No one is saying it’s anyone’s fault.” Everyone’s mostly good folks.

“But I bet they’re all taking behind my back…” What a persecution complex.

In the back, huh…? I wondered around the time, too, that everyone’s secretly bullying me, and the coach wanted to keep the group together and knowingly disallowed me to play.

“But that’s exactly what the other pitcher is thinking.”

“Hah?”

“Hanazawa-san too said her team is always losing.”

Did he know who Hanazawa-san is? I used the name anyway. Maekawa dad probably recognized who that is from earlier, and he grumbled. “Is that right… I guess it’s hard for her too when there’s lotsa folks above her.”

The adult expressed his sympathy in a tone that sounded as though a shared sentiment.

“Why does the girl wanna play amateur baseball?”

“Probably to vent.”

“Oh, I see. That’s great. So where do I go to vent?”

s.h.i.+fting his focus onto the tolling station’s electronic voice, Maekawa dad mumbled to himself.

My ears, however, were captivated by the sound of the zephyr. The atmosphere rumbled, sweeping like waves. .h.i.tting against the sandy beach. Sweat dried gradually from the breeze; I closed my eyes and breathed.

What to say… Not that there’s many choices. Only a few words can be used, and there’s only one truly fitting.

Quoting is such a convenient thing.

“Hanazawa-san even said that if she were to play, the team always think they have a chance of winning, that’s why she hates playing.”

Maekawa dad looked back. “Now that’s something I’d rather worry about.”

“Same here… But, that’s not so bad either, don’t you think?”

“…Hm?”

“That’s basically saying, when you’re playing, sir, we have the same kind of hope.”

Maekawa dad’s expression twisted into a lopsided one. It’s the type that can only be done subconsciously.

I’ve never thought I could use this phrase to describe something other than the battle with the enemies of the world.[8]

“Like, even if you’re sure that people can never fly on a bicycle…”

I paused here, letting out an awkward laughter from my dried throat.

But I was certain with my next line.

“Yet you can never say that making people think they can fly is definitely a bad thing.

The ever-so-familiar aqua-blue particles danced inside in my eyes.

My lachrymal glands hardened, preventing the sort of reminiscing sentiment from flowing out.

Well done! I congratulated while looking skyward.

“There is no question that you're the one holding the team up, sir.”

You might not be the s.h.i.+niest, but you've always been the best. So far, we haven't had a game with such big gaps between scores.

“I...”

I've always admired you, standing on that mound.

The words that followed tumbled in my mouth, and was swallowed with the wind.

The main character.

A talent recognized by all.

A hero.

I, too, wanted to be someone like that.

But I've given up on the hards.h.i.+p.

To be acknowledged, it's the only way.

Maekawa dad sniffed. He wasn't moved to tear or anything, right? I took notice, but it would appear to be that something just flew into his nose. Well, then don't suck it in! I backed off a few steps. Without noticing me, Maekawa dad stood up, tidied his sloppy s.h.i.+rt and brushed off the sweat dripping from his hair.

“I dunno why, but I've always been running away.”

It's the same as I: I've never forgotten why, though.

“The only things I didn't run away from are when I proposed, when I decided to open a bar, and when I fought with my wife about the name of our daughter.”

“…...”

Maekawa-san's name, huh… It's yet to be revealed. Does it contain some earth-shattering secret in it?

Hmm~ Maybe she's actually called Maekawa San?

As if dragging my slipping focus back from the mystery, Maekawa dad's glance pierced my temple.

“That's why I'm here to check on my escape route.”

“Hm?”

“Even if I were to go there now, it's not my problem if we don't make it.”

He apparently gave up on running. It's great that he's convinced, but…

“Oh yea, I guess that's true.” We spent quite sometimes running around.

The game might already be over. If that's the case, I… I will find a bat.

And play some baseball with Ryuus.h.i.+-san, right? Okay, that settles it.

...Even so.

I peeked at Maekawa dad; hint of anxiety flashed.

Even if I drag him back, can he play? He looked terrible.

Maekawa dad drifted onto my bike rack and held onto my waist.

Another dark spot stained my bike's history.

Forty years old, s.p.a.ce suit, my friend's dad. There are plenty of 'high school girls' around, so what's the deal?

“So, what are you to my daughter?”

Maekawa dad murmured behind my shoulder. The chill shot up my spine.

“Uh, um… Just a normal cosplay buddy.”

“Don't you lie to me, boy!”

He jabbed my waist. I ain't lying… Okay yeah that was a lie I guess.

If he could just accept that with a 'yeah, I thought so,' then he wouldn't be Maekawa dad! But setting that strange a.s.sumption aside.

“Ahh it hurts~” I moaned while pus.h.i.+ng the bike forward. My legs are also shaking from fatigue.

“You better come clean if we win the game!”

“Ahh~ Yeah, yeah, I will.” He wants to win now, isn't that something?

If I were to be completely honest… I've been to your daughter's room before, and naturally it was just the two of us, hahah… Now we'll switch role — I will do the running away.

For some reason I pictured not just Maekawa dad, but also Ryuus.h.i.+-san coming after me. What am I, the phantom thief?

“But, I did try to run away… Won't the guys be mad at me? They're not going to beat me up, are they?”

There he goes freaking out again.

“I want to puke my hands out.”

“What does that even mean?”

It's already hot and humid like in a sauna, please don't throw in the mopy thoughts.

So… “It's a-okay!”

I rung the bell, laughing off the idea with a cheerful att.i.tude.

Because...

“Heroes only show up at the last moment!”

When we returned, the game's already at the second half of the fourth innings. We were losing, 0 to 2.

Erio's control ensured that the other team could never get four fouls. In other words, they'd gotten use to her slow flying ball. Still, being able to maintain the score difference at two was quite impressive. I have the confidence of losing five points in one round as the pitcher.

I scanned — we're now offence, with people on first, second base and one out. It would appear that those were not hits, but rather errors and walks. Standing on first base s.p.a.cing out was Erio.

Ah, we saw each other. She waved, so I did the same with the thought of 'job well done!' to compliment her work so far. Too bad she won't receive all that information.

And then, as though attracted by our back-and-forth, Meme-san, noticing me and Maekawa dad's return, turned around and rested the aluminium bat from her shoulder. She welcomed us with a benevolent smile.

“Looks like I won't be subst.i.tuting today.”

“Coach, aren't you having too much action?”

“Mako-kun, subst.i.tute batter.”

“Wha?”

She just piled all the responsibilities on someone who just came back.

Billboards pointing toward the road of heroes rose everywhere.

With a jublilant voice, Meme-san called out to the umpire standing at the batter's box.

“Hey~ Umpire, our Mako-kun is now the hero, so let him in!”

“Um...” I was going to say there's no such role in baseball.

“You came back at the best time, Mako-kun.”

“Oh, um...” I had no words. I didn't know how to act or what to do.

An anxiety bloated, like being called to the staff room from the school intercom unexpectedly.

“You too — you're playing next innings, so go um… Do what… Right, go turn your shoulders or something.”

Like a professional coach in speech and behaviour, Meme-san directed Maekawa dad. “Got it.” Though defiant in look, Maekawa dad heeded to her order and retrieved his glove.

Then she gently nudged my chest.

“Isn't this the best time to go? Go win a game for us now.”

The aluminium bat she hugged was placed softly into my right hand.

“...Um~” I wanted to say something, but I wasn't sure where it would go. As I stood conflicted, Ryuus.h.i.+-san, standing next to me, patted on my shoulder. What was it? Before I could turn and face her —

“I'm rootin' for ya~! Ni~ Wa~ Kun~!!”

“My… Ear...”

The exploding cheer erupting next to my face delivered a direct impact into my brain.

“Wuwu, I'm sho embarra.s.sed...”

She paid no mind to the others' painful reaction. I expected no less from a young girl: being bashful was almost her job… Hold on.

“Um, you should be a little further away before yelling.”

“Whacha sayin'! Ya can't hear if I'm not closer!”

I heard it so well, that my cochlea rung still.

Wanting to shut the part that thought 'I don't wanna be cheered,' I sighed.

“...Fine, I get it.”

I get it; my grip tightened on the bat.

Hos.h.i.+miya Yas.h.i.+ro.

I will face it directly.

“Be safe~”

“Yeah, yeah~”

Who was that just spoke? Meme-san? Or Ryuus.h.i.+-san? Well, either is fine with me.

Having any one cheering for an eternal bench warmer — I should really be laughing.

One out; runners on first and second. On this moment that is only a step away from two outs with full bases.

Step forward, toward the unknown of 0.00000000198 centimetre per second.

“...Alright!”

With the bat resting on my shoulder, I sped ahead.

Finally, I will chase after that with a speed that can never reach. From now.

Again, and again.

This time.

“I guess I'll go for a little home run!”

Standing on the batting zone with the bat still on my shoulder, I adjusted my feet.

First time betting today, and I'm afraid there will not be a second. If I don't score here, we lose.

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't nervous with this scenario.

My gaze pitted against Hanazawa-san's. Her defence at this river bank wan't just on the level of impressive — she could even be a little c.o.c.ky about it.

Dust blew into my eyes, and I rubbed. It's windy today. Sure would be great if I could have the wind make my ball into a home run. Unfortunately that won't be the case. Without bleachers of some sort, the distance for a home run is far too long — it would be quite difficult with my strength and skills.

Despite wanting to get our runners back, it would be hard to even send the ball to the outfield. Ultimately I reseated my helmet and raised the bat, sending a glance at Nakajima's courtesy smile on second base.

Hiding under her cap without movement, Erio stared holes into me. She wasn't preparing to run, as though conveying her plan to simply walk to home base. Hey now, I grinned bitterly.

On the left field, Yas.h.i.+ro too stood still with arms crossed — 'why doncha show me?' — she seemed to say. Perhaps she already knew that the ball won't fly toward her. What's strange is that the ball typically flies to her — I felt I've seen this scene in a manga.

The tiny fruition of being destroyed and outed was, for some reason, the gradual understanding of Hanazawa-san's play.

I cannot read the future, nor do I have any powers, so I rely on my own ability to win. I haven't wasted the last twenty or so chances I had to strike back. Since I have yet remembered the feeling of a hit, I still have s.p.a.ces for memory: I saw the pattern in Hanazawa-san's pitch.

Still, I was not certain. What's crucial is that it is only one ball. If I had the ability to comprehend the entirety without any data, I would have long been in a team.

The first pitch. The only ball of any possibility. I know the type of pitch Hanazawa-san throws.

A straight, slightly toward the lower end of middle. That's Hanazawa-san's favourite spot. Usually she aims there, toward the end of the strike zone where it is hard to see. It's the only chance I have.

As usual, Hanazawa-san raised her arm. Since few actually make it onto base, I do not have enough experience of her typical stance. But I can only swing.

The ball exited from Hanazawa-san's hand. I believed it will come, and began putting all strength into the bat.

Here it is!

My muscles trembled.

Though I swung as soon as the ball came, I was too late.

My kinetic vision isn't too outstanding. I guess I don't have the talent for baseball?

Still.

Just for now — just for once.

Even without that talent, I need the result.

As if but of naturally, the bat I held too far out in antic.i.p.ation of a hit moved too late. Yet.

Like clinging onto a clothe with a finger nail.

Like never letting go of someone else's hands.

Like betting eighty years of life to fill five centimetres worth of distance.

My bat caught the escaping ball on its lower right.

Between where my jaws meet creaked; as if to answer the bulging eyes, the sound of blood vessels clenching emitted from the temples, and sweat exploded from my back. Never wanting to let go of this sensation, I moved even my legs, firming planting myself.

“$#%$&!!”

From my mouth came a deep groan straight from the depth of h.e.l.l.

I bit down, as if trying to encapsulate the death rattle from escaping between my teeth.

Time stopped as though to capture the moment when the bat struck the ball. The sight of the ball changing shape, bending inward reflected in my eyes. How heavy. The weighty sensation spread across my hands. Between the flesh of my fingers and the bat, nails dug in deeply, their form almost lost. It hurt.

I couldn't swing the bat out. The ball was still glued on. I bit down further; crack, the teeth slip apart, and the gooseb.u.mps popped out. My scalp twitched, as if the hair had fallen out.

Once more, I applied more pressure onto the teeth that were on brink of breaking; keep going, move those arms more.

And then.

The grey arc created from the aluminium bat drew across, sending the ball flying.

It should have been an impossible sequence.

The speed of sound arrived later than all other.

For the first time, the metallic bat echoed a resounding hit.

A field of white painted my vision, like being embraced by Yas.h.i.+ro's hair. This too was only for a moment.

In the sight that returned, I could not see my accomplishment.

Numbness from my arms tightened my expression; I followed the path of the ball. Where? I ditched the bat, running forward with legs that almost tied up. More, sprint forward. The wind deafened me, and the cheer far away.

Hanazawa-san's eyes expanded, shocked. Terrific! A short-lived pleasure lifted the corner of my lips. A comeback against a pro. The football on the ground. A short time pa.s.sed before I let go of the almost crazed glee.

Where is the ball? I turned toward where people's foci were at.

There it was.

The white ball flew toward the right field. Hit by a late swing, the ball did not have momentum carrying forward. It merely floated in the sky, in the direction it was. .h.i.t.

It would probably land immediately into the right fielder's hand as soon as it loses even that. The old guy with the crooked shoulder guarding that field was casually getting ready, standing below the ball.

“...Ah.”

The disappointment was worse than expected, and I almost stopped going.

I sprinted with numbed hands. In the end, it's still just a ball? Not even a sacrifice fly. It was still dubious if it'd make a difference: simply put, it might as well be a freebie.

Hanazawa-san sighed, looking down at the mound and flattening the sand. So she'd already predicted the ending. The sense of defeat sank, dragging my feet into the ground.

Only Yas.h.i.+ro, standing in the left field, followed the ball with her eyes.

As if she was filled with conviction.

To have an enemy who trusted me the most.

And almost as though guided by her, I did not look toward Erio, but further into the sky.

“Ah.”

A gale blew from behind.

My eyes grew.

Something that forced everyone's attention back in the sky happened.

The wind carried the ball away, since it was so high up. Even Hanazawa-san had to crack open her eyes away from the mound to follow the ball. The scale immediately tipped in favour of the shopping district's team.

The right fielder frantically lowered his hand and ran backward. Staring at the ball, he showed no sign of stopping. Don't stop. Don't stop now.

I restrained myself from running toward the ball while eyes still fixed on it.

Though in a diametrically different position than the rocket scientists, we share the same wishes.

Fly,