In the blink of an eye, summer had come and passed.

While my classmates were busy with summer classes, I was watching movies, reading novels, and the pointless cycle of writing and discarding stories. At the end of the day, not a sentence was written. I thought I had a gist of what I wanted to write, but when a few paragraphs were down, I wondered to myself if that was really what I wanted to write or not. I was in doubt. I could already hear hallucinatory whispers of criticism.

In the National High School Baseball Championship in Fukushima, Seikou Academy defeated Nichidai Tohoku and qualified for the Koshien Tournament

Shimizu had been training hard and he had certainly recuperated. Nonetheless, he could only be a bystander in this match. His teammates were certainly excellent, and logically, it made sense, the pressure for a one-legged player like Shimizu must have been immense. With mixed feelings, I secretly watched from the bleachers as Shimizu cheered on his teammates from the bench.

Then, on August 19, Seikou Academy faced Saki-Nagasei at Koshien Stadium.

With other former teammates from middle school, we went to the Koshien Stadium. It was a beautiful, sunny, sweltering hot day. The temperature was over 30 degrees Celsius. Seikou Academy won by 2-4, but we weren’t as happy.

Shimizu never got to bat a single turn. We stayed at a hotel nearby and lounged idly. It felt like a school trip.

“What are you doing nowadays?”

“Writing a novel”

“Whoa, really?! What’s it about?”

“I haven’t written a single letter.”

“Does that count as writing…”

“I haven’t written anything, but I’m writing.”

Everyone looked at me blankly. I myself couldn’t find a good explanation of my condition either.

On August 21, Seikou Academy played Oumi High.

It was another sweltering hot summer day. The game was a jittery struggle. Neither team scored until the bottom of the 5th inning, and Oumi High scored first in the top of the 6th inning. Through the 7th and 8th, the score remained 1-0. Seikou held Oumi hitherto in the 9th inning—and then they scored two runs and won the game. The victory’s delight was all the greater because of the tight game.

However, it was a victory without Shimizu in the batter’s box.

 　　　13

August 22──Seikou Academy versus Nihon Bunri.

Another sunny day yet again, but the temperature had dropped considerably.

In contrast to the pleasant weather, the game was tough. While Nihon Bunri scored a run in each of the first and second innings, Seikou could not score any runs. After that, both teams were scoreless until the bottom of the 6th inning. Then, in the top of the 7th inning, Nihon Bunri scored a run. The 8th was scoreless. Then, in the top of the 9th inning, Nihon Bunri scored two more runs and put the game at a hopeless 0-5. 

There was no way for Seikou Academy to turn the game at the bottom of the 9th inning at this rate. The first batter got out on a fly ball, and the second got out on a wild pitch. Two outs in the blink of an eye.

Those of us in the bleachers held our heads in our hands. It was over.

Shimizu’s last game at Koshien was already over.

Then it happened.

“Substitute batter…number…13…Kentaro Shimizu…” announced the megaphone.

At the last minute, the manager gave Shimizu a chance.

He came off the bench.

“Shimizu!” 

“Shimizuu!!”

We cupped our hands and screamed.

Even from a distance, his leg looked thin. Shimizu himself was a little buzz in the Koushien League this year. Many people already knew him as the prosthetic batter of the reserve.

He stepped into the batter’s box, looking up at the sky and took a deep breath. People might not know it, but merely standing there was great enough an accomplishment to him. I had seen him work hard for this moment.

He readied his bat, swaying his boy to and fro jubilantly.

My eyes were already filled with tears.

He loved baseball. This was what he wanted. This hit was going to be a home run.

The pitcher threw the ball. Thud—a foul ball flew high into the air. There was a stir. Despite being a foul ball, that swing was magnificent.

The second pitch. The ball was struck low on the inside corner. Shimizu swung wildly, but his movement was unnatural. With his prosthetic leg, it might be difficult to hit the ball low.

The third pitch. We cheered his name, some let out a gasp. The catcher brought his gloved hand in the same motion as the second pitch.

“Hit it—!!!”

Shimizu batted. It was a perfect swing, he had already read the movements and predicted the trajectory. He caught the low ball flawlessly and—

Ping!

The ball soared high into the sky. Against the blue sky, it looked like a tiny cloud.

The crowd was wild with cheers.

“Run! Home run!” We chanted.

“Wahahahaha…!” The Laughing Demon was rounding the bases of Koshien Stadium with a smile on his face.

I had no doubt it would be a home run. If Shimizu was laughing, I knew it was a guaranteed home run.

And it was, the ball went into the bleachers and the cheer went over bounds. The entire stadium was crying for the prosthetic batter.

“See?!” Bellowed Shimizu. “See that?!” and he blew another fit of hearty roar. 

The laughter turned into tears at third base. We couldn’t hold back our tears either. Until he finished his run, the other boys stood up, pumping their fist, crying out Shimizu’s name in ragged sobs.

I sat down, covered my face, and cried aloud.

I just couldn’t get up.

Thank you, I said repeatedly in my heart.

Thank you, Shimizu.

I’ll finish my novel.