Perhaps I was also still praying .

As if reading the great revelations in the Bible, I went through novels ardently.

But only monks can make a living by praying. A mere high school boy like me was still on a straight and narrow path to failure. No matter what I did, I had no heart to study. To study was like being choked alive. It was stupid, I know, even some of my classmates agreed.

“You look like you’re better than other fools, so I’ll tell  you something,” said Sekigahara, “You’re gonna get left behind in Fukushima, you know that?” 

“Huh? What do you mean?”

It was in the classroom at dusk. My textbook was still propped up in pretense of study, behind, however, was a novel I was reading. I had been too immersed to notice that the class was over.

“Fukishima’s prefecture for losers, it’s an already finished place. They are all idiots who have no ambition and are fine with being idiots. Only thing they’re keen to do is dragging others down. Arrogant. They even dare put mayonnaise on chilled Chinese noodles.”

“You put the mayonnaise on the noodles.”

“That’s my cute part, let it slide for once.” He gestured. “What I want to say is that Fukushima’s a place for losers.”

“And on what qualification is your loser or winner?”

“You. You’ve always mumbled about things being cringe, that’s what a loser would do.”

“The only thing I’ve been cringing with is myself.”

“Try to extend that feeling to others. Fukushima is a dumping ground for cringe people.”

I tried a card. “I’m sorry, I hope you won’t be offended with… but you’re the most cringy person around”

“Tch.” Sekigahara stood. As a parting shot, he sneered, “You’re going to be a sore loser in the end, mark my words! You buffoon!”

[TN: The conversation was as incoherent in Japanese as in this translation, I did my best.]

To his non judgemental tone he had at the opening, it was quite a quick turntable with the parting shot. Like me, he was a weird outcast.

Later, he would unsuccessfully try to join another group. Since he was rather disliked, he eventually returned to me and ate chilled Chinese noodles with mayonnaise at lunch together.

Maybe that really was his cute part. 

 　　　６

Second year of high school came. Until junior high school, I had the feeling that something was going on every year. But after entering high school, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was repeatedly stepping in the same place. Just piles and piles of books in the corner of my room. Nothing changed, and only the seasons passed.

It was summer. Shimizu was supposed to go to Koshien again. Although it had not come to pass.

On the eve of the season, he was caught in an accident. 

On an early morning with light rain where he jogged, he was hit by a car that was going 80 km/h at an intersection with poor visibility.

As soon as I received the news, I left everything behind and headed for the hospital in Fukushima City.t the hospital, there were already three boys from my junior high school baseball team and eight of Shimizu’s current teammates were there. Aida was also there, he was even more flirtatious than in middle school.

More and more appeared until there were twenty-eight in the narrow corridor. In front of the operating room, the crowd prayed for Shimizu. It felt like we were back in the locker room, waiting for a big match to begin.

The “surgery in progress” light went out. A moment later, the surgeon stepped out.

“Doctor! Shimizu?!”

He took off his mask and grinned. “Safe.”

His verdict brought out a relieved holler from the group.

The smiles died when we saw the state Shimizu was in. His left leg from knee down was no longer there. The tip of the knee was wrapped in bandages like a silkworm cocoon, and there were other small bruises and cuts all over his body too. I remembered the game against Nichidai San last summer, when Shimizu slid into first base. It was that leg that carried him then…

A jolt of pain rose up. Blank space. Lost leg. I cried. Like a chain reaction, all of the guys packed inside followed suit.

Flustered, Shimizu tried to calm everyone down. Him swinging his arms soothingly looked like a mummy trying to scare explorers instead.

“Don’t cry. I’m still alive!” he said cheerfully.

“I’ll go kill that motherf—- ” Seethed Aida. “Who the f— hit 80 km/h in that rain. That frick doesn’t deserve to live.” 

He broke through the crowd and made way for the exit.

“Wait! Someone, stop him!”

A buff member of the Shikou Academy team tackled Aida down and the others held him down. Aida’s cheeks pressed against the linoleum floor, his face contorted.

“Arghhh! Damn you! Damn that shit!!” Tears and snot began to pooled where he was.

I’m really okay, everyone. Calm down… See? I’m fine.” Until the end, Shimizu was smiling.

　　　７

Shimizu was then transferred to a hospital closer to his home. There was no end to his visitors. His nightstand was always aplenty with flowers and fruits. Every time I visited him, he always had this round smile of a fairytale prince in a happy land.

Among the visitors was Kobayashi Koyomi. From what I have heard, she had moved away to Souma after graduating elementary school. One way or another, they had come in touch again when Shimizu lost his leg.

She was still the same quiet, inconspicuous but lovely girl. 

How do I know all of this? One day, I stumbled upon her peeling apples for Shimizu. She dexterously cut wedges into the skin, turning slices into a bunny. She attentively trimmed it before handing it to Shimizu, smiling. Never before had an apple peeling revealed so much of someone’s nature, I could feel how meticulous and gentle she was.

Shimizu took the offered slice happily and took a bite. And so it went again and again. It reminded me of rabbits hopping around and one by one, returning to their burrows.

They both looked so precious. I traced back my steps, infected with a smile from them. 

Of all visitors, I frequented the most. Kobayashi lived in Souma, so his visits were limited. Everyone else too, had their own studies, club activities, and love lives. In this respect, I had by far the most free time. I was as free as a seal on an ice floe.

Shimizu knew that, too, and would often send me messages saying, “Come here!” and I would always reply, “Right away.” I was so free that I had no reason to decline his invitation.

I thought about bringing flowers like how I did for Mom, but it would have been a nuisance to bring flowers every time. So instead, I stopped by a used bookstore and bought in heaps of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure.

As expected, Shimiza was immediately hooked. “Scarlet Overdriveee!!!” he would shout, that was his favorite move. Seeing him like that, I couldn’t help but play along. It was childish, but maybe that wasn’t so bad.

Shimizu sometimes had phantom limb pain. His leg that should not be there hurt. Whenever this happened, Shimizu would grunt, grit his teeth, and clutch his left knee. Seeing a kindred spirit, I patted his broad, athlete’s back.

And without Shimizu, the Seikou Academy team went to Koushien without Shimizu. All members from Shimizu’s middle school team came together to cheer from the hospital TV. For some reason, Aida had brought a party horn and was blowing rowdily.

Seikou Academy defeated Aikodai Meiden High by  4-3 in the first round. Six days later, the next game was against Fukui Commercial.

We all gathered together again for the second match. Aida seemed to have a fallout with his girlfriend and was blowing the party horn even more noisily. 

Fukui Commercial scored a run in the bottom of the first inning, and after that, the game continued to go slowly with neither team scoring a run, until Seikou Academy finally caught up in the top of the sixth inning. 

Our cheers were too loud and we were cautioned by the nurse. Then, in the bottom of the eighth inning, Fukuisho scored another run. We were all in a tizzy. Aida was dumped over the chat right then.

In the top of the ninth inning, Seikou Academy failed to score a run and lost the game.

If Shimizu had been there, they might have won. 

When the screen showed the players shedding tears in defeat. I thought I had an auditory hallucination when the sobbing was from behind me, not from the TV, but it turned out to be Shimizu.

The face that was always smiling was twisted into a terrible mess. I could feel his frustration, guilt, sadness. It was too much to bear.

We cried as well. Everyone wanted to see him in the field.