The transformation of the field was not an overnight miracle. It was a slow and rhythmic grind that mirrored the pace of life in Nagano. For two weeks the routine was unchanging. There was school and then the sound of the final bell followed by a frantic dash to the rebel field.
The dust had finally settled. The rocks were gone and replaced by a smooth leveled surface that the team had meticulously raked every single evening. We had even managed to paint faint white lines using bags of lime donated by a local farmer. It was not Koshien and it was not the luxurious artificial turf of a powerhouse school. It was just a patch of earth that smelled of rain and hard work but to the Nagano crew it was home.
"Line drive! Watch the ball!" my voice cracked through the quiet. It was vibrant and loud as ever.
Nobu lunged to his right while his glove scraped the dirt to snag a grounder. He tumbled and came up grinning before he tossed the ball back to the mound. "I got it Eijun! But man, my legs are killing me today."
Wakana was out at shortstop with her cap pulled low and her own glove darkened by sweat and dirt. In our middle school league girls were allowed to play on the team and she was the most disciplined one among us. She wiped the dust from her forehead and looked at the group with a sharp gaze. "Keep your hips low Nobu! If you stand up too early you will miss the hop every time!"
"She is right!" I shouted while spinning the ball in my hand. "Just ten more reps for everyone! If we cannot handle three hours now then how are we going to handle a nine inning game?"
The team groaned but it was a fond sort of groaning. They followed our lead because the energy between me and Wakana was infectious. Yet as the sun began to dip behind the purple peaks of the mountains a subtle shift occurred. The rest of the team started moving a little slower. They were laughing and talking about a new anime episode or what they wanted for dinner. For them the baseball field was a place to be with friends.
For me and Wakana the moment we stepped onto that dirt the world outside ceased to exist. Our eyes were sharper and our movements were more deliberate. We were not just playing because we were honing a craft.
That evening after the others had headed home to their warm dinners I stayed behind. I told them I wanted to rake the pitcher's mound one last time but really I just needed the silence. I stood in the center of the diameter with the rake leaning against my shoulder. The temperature was cooling rapidly and the only sound was the distant chime of the evening bells from the town.
Suddenly a strange and heavy sensation washed over me. It was a wave of vertigo that made the ground feel unsteady. I dropped the rake and my hands began trembling slightly.
"...Is this okay?" I thought as my breath hitched in my chest.
I closed his eyes and for a fleeting moment I saw flashes of a different life. I saw a massive stadium with blue fences. I saw a catcher with glasses and a smirk that was as infuriating as it was brilliant. I saw myself wearing a jersey with Seidou across the chest while I was screaming from a dugout filled with monsters. Those were players who lived and breathed baseball with the same terrifying intensity I did.
In that other life I was a small fish in a massive ocean fighting for every inch of recognition. Here in Nagano I was the sun around which everyone else orbited.
"I am changing it…" I whispered to the empty field. "The story...it's not supposed to be like this."
I felt a pang of guilt. By staying here and continuing everything I was erasing the meetings with Miyuki Kazuya. I was erasing the rivalry with Furuya Satoru. I was erasing the heartbreak of the summer finals and the growth that came from losing my spot on the mound.
I looked down at my calloused hands. In the original story I was a hero in the making on a national stage. Here I was just a kid in the countryside with a group of friends who might never play past high school. Was I being selfish? Was I wasting the gift of my talent just because I wanted to keep my friends close?