It was Sunday morning. Despite spring right there on the doorstep, the air was cool and still, chillier than expected, sending goosebumps all over my body. The sky was painted in faint gold and cherry blossoms trembling on the edges of branches as I walked up the narrow path leading toward the Setagaya Little League Grounds.
The gates stood open already. Inside, the field looked… different. The basepaths were freshly chalked, the grass along the outfield perfectly trimmed, the dugouts neatly cleaned. Someone had even hung the red banner that read "SETAGAYA LITTLE LEAGUE" across the fence behind home plate.
'Even the preseason friendlies didn't have such level of preparation.'
It was barely 7:15, but most of the players were already here. A few of the older guys were warming up near right field, their laughter carrying faintly on the wind. Ren Iwasaki was among them, tall and composed, swinging a bat in slow rhythm as our ace, Taiyo Suzuki stood on the side tossing warm-up rockets to Rui Takeuchi. Each pitch snapped into the catcher's mitt with a clean, sharp pop that echoed through the empty stands.
I paused for a moment just to take it in — the sound, the sight, the energy. There was something sacred about it. I could even see a few spectators in the stands watching and commenting on the players getting ready.
'So, this is what game day feels like. It's different from what I remember.'
"Chibi-chan!"
I turned toward the voice, instantly recognizing the friendly half-foreigner who it belonged to. Shiro was waving at me from the dugout, his usual grin already plastered across his face. Rento stood beside him, stretching with both arms behind his head.
"You're early," I said, walking up.
"Couldn't sleep," Shiro said. "Kept dreaming about striking out the captain."
Rento snorted. "More like getting hit out of the park by the captain."
"Rude," Shiro replied, pretending to be offended.
I laughed and dropped my bag near the bench. Hiroto was already there, quietly oiling his glove, as usual — focused, efficient, saying nothing.
Daichi also walked over and gave me a long stare before asking, "You ready for this?"
"They sure do look intense today," I admitted looking out towards the main squad. "But that's fine. We're not scared of them."
Shiro nodded, rolling his shoulders. "Exactly. Let's give them something to remember."
We began our warm-up tosses — slow, deliberate throws at first, our gloves popping softly in the still morning. The more we threw, the more the nervousness in my chest turned into something sharper, steadier.
I was much older than all these kids, at least mentally, but it was my first time putting my all into something and competing for a goal that was much higher than anything I had ever thought of trying. But that was not a shortcoming, it was only a source for me. A source for greed... for motivation... for determination!
*****
By 8:30, everyone was assembled behind the home plate. The team had warmed up together following the captain's lead like usual and were now primmed and ready to put their all on the pitch. The field now buzzed with energy but devoid of any sound. Only nature dared to voice its anticipation, everyone else waited on Coach's words.
Coach Okabe stood near the mound, clipboard in hand, his whistle hanging from his neck. Beside him was Captain Ren Iwasaki — his uniform crisp, his face stoic, as unreadable as ever.
"Alright," Coach began, his voice carrying easily across the field. "Today's scrimmage isn't just for fun. It's our internal test before the season begins. I want to see how our new members blend with the team, how our returning players lead, and how everyone handles real pressure."
He paused, looking between the two groups of players — the veterans on one side, the newcomers on the other.
"This isn't about who wins or loses," he continued. "It's about who shows up. Who performs when it counts."
He turned towards Ren and became stern. "I expect a one-sided game, Captain."
Ren stepped forward with his usual composed grace, his arms crossed behind his back like a general ready for war.
"Yes Coach!"
"Doesn't matter who's on which team today," Coach turned back towards the team said simply. "Once you wear this jersey, you play with pride. That's all that matters."
He looked straight at me and then scanned the team — just for a second — and the corners of his lips tugged upward slightly before he walked away.
Captain spoke up before anyone could make a move. "Starters! Let's show them why we are one of the best teams in the country. And Rookies... give it your best shot."
""Yes, Captain!""
I straightened unconsciously and nodded.
Coach Okabe blew his whistle sharply. "Both teams — warm up for ten minutes, then report to your dugouts."
"Yes, sir!"
As the players scattered, Shiro jogged beside me, his mask and chest protector in hand. "No pressure, right?"
"None at all," I said, half-smiling. "Let's make them sweat early."
*****
The lineups were set. Everyone was ready, but our team already hit our first hurdle. None of us though we would need a captain for the toss. Now everyone stared at each other looking for a solution.
"Does it really matter who it is... let's let Shiro or Daichi or anyone go for the toss." I suggested.
But suddenly Shiro spoke up with a shrug. "Umm honestly that is all true but if we had to vote, I would side with Chibi"
And soon without a reason everyone was simply agreeing with him.
"Are you all sure about this? Daichi?" I confirmed.
Everyone just nodded while Daichi stepped forward, "You showed you are somewhat capable of talking and maybe leading during the meeting we had after practice yesterday, so it is only fair."
Thus, as the captain, I walked over to the home plate where Coach and Captain were waiting. Not even a minute passed before I was walking back as the winner of the toss and electing to bat first.
The morning sun had climbed higher, washing the field in pale warmth. Parents, siblings, and a few locals gathered quietly along the chain-link fence, sipping from canned coffee and whispering between themselves.
Taiyo Suzuki, stood on the mound for Team Setagaya — tall, confident, with that easy grin of someone who knew he was the ace. His warm-up pitches whistled through the air, each one exploding into Rui's glove like a small firecracker.
"Man, he's fast," Rento murmured beside me from the dugout.
"The fastball probably touches ninety," I replied. "Nothing scary though, right?"
Daichi, our leadoff, stepped into the box, his bat tapping the plate twice.
The first pitch — a blur.
Strike one.
The second — inside corner.
Strike two.
The third — a high fastball. Daichi tried to swing early just to make contact.
Swoosh!!
"Strikeout!"
Next up was Shinobu, our first baseman. He swung at every pitch but to no avail.
Three flaming fasballs.
Three swinging strikes.
"Strikeout!"
Then it was my turn. The youngest player on the field. The only one still twelve.
As I walked up to the plate, the chatter dimmed slightly. I could feel eyes on me — some curious, some skeptical.
Shiro shouted from the dugout, "Show 'em, Chibi-chan!"
I smirked under my helmet.
Taiyo stood on the mound, gloved hand over the ball, that confident grin still there. He wound up and delivered — a fastball down the middle.
Pop.
The ball hit Rui's mitt before I could even blink.
"Strike one!"
'Yeah, he's fast alright.'
Next pitch — outside corner. I checked my swing, fine tuning the timing.
"Strike two."
'Two strikes already! I don't have time to watch anymore.' I hit my wooden bat on my helmet once, took my stance but continued thinking. 'He has only thrown fastballs till now and all inside the zone. Does he not plan to use any breaking balls? Is it going to be inside? Outside? High? Low? Maybe outsize a zone?'
I looked up to see our Ace winding up.
'Not even gonna give me time to think?'
The ball left his fingers, and it was just as fast. But not as much of a spin on it. I could see it inch closer like it was in slow-motion.
'Another Fastball!'
I tightened my grip and swung at what I thought was a low fastball on the outside corner.
Whoosh!
I saw it.
I saw the ball.
As it sank right before the plate. It sank further than a fastball does. Sank right below my bat and nestled into Rui's glove.
"Strikeout! Three out, change!"
'It was a fork!'
As I shuffled back toward the dugout, everyone was silent. Taiyo had given a perfect start to their team, and it was visible just how tough of an opponent they were going to be.
'I was overthinking it way too much and now we have given up the momentum.'
I laughed awkwardly scratching my head as I took off my helmet. "Yeah, that is definitely one of the best 16 year old pitcher in the whole damn country. But we already knew that, right?"
Everyone looked at me, looking for more than just that. "What? Did you think this was gonna be easy? Weren't we here to get better? Then let's get out there and see just how much better we gen get by the end of this game, alright?"
With every word the whole team brightened up more and more. By the end of it, each and every one of them had stopped brooding.
"We are not that far behind them you know! We're literally the same age!" Shiro protested while pouting as he finished putting on his mask. "Come on! Time to show them just how desperate we can be!"
Everyone smiled or chuckled at his comments but now the clouds of uncertainty were cleared, and everyone was ready to hit them back. With renewed vigor, we marched out for the second innings.
The mound approached as I continued to jog towards it, glove on snug, cap on low, my team beside me.
The real game had just begun.