Chapter 95: The Baseball Game

It wasn’t until they reached a crowded area that the boys following Rumi gradually dispersed into the crowd.

The kendo girl let out a sigh of relief.

“Looks like our little Rumi is starting to attract admirers,” Masashi teased with a grin.

“You fool, boys chasing after Rumi at school are as common as flies. You think it only happens here?” Kazumi rolled her eyes at him.

“It’s not like that at all. Don’t listen to Kazumi’s nonsense, senpai,” Rumi said shyly.

“Having admirers is a good thing—it means our little girl is growing up. Let’s go grab a drink after walking so much,” Masashi suggested.

The two girls nodded and started heading toward the school building.

“Kazumi, what time is it?” Rumi suddenly asked as they walked halfway there.

“It’s ten minutes to 10. Why?” Kazumi glanced at her watch.

“Oh no! I almost forgot—I promised the coach I’d be at the baseball field before 10. I’m in so much trouble; he’s definitely going to scold me this time,” Rumi said, her face scrunched up in distress.

“If you go now, you’ll be fine. Want me to come with you?” Kazumi held her hand to comfort her.

“No need, I’ll go by myself. Senpai, Kazumi, you two go ahead and get your drinks without me. Don’t wait for me. I’ll be off now,” she said, then hurried off toward the baseball field.

“What a clumsy little kid. Just now we were talking about how she’s grown up, but she’s still the same,” Masashi said, watching her retreating figure.

“But that’s what makes her so cute, isn’t it? Don’t you agree?” Kazumi asked.

“You’re always pointing out others’ flaws. If you smiled more often, you’d be cute too,” Masashi teased, pinching her cheek.

Kazumi slapped his hand away and laughed. “Can’t you be serious for once? And please, don’t use the word ‘cute’ on me. It’ll only make people nauseous.”

“You’re mistaken. Those people who feel nauseous are just pregnant. Actually, all girls are cute; it just depends on whether others can appreciate them. To me, you’re a very cute girl—no less so than Rumi,” Masashi said, looking into her eyes.

“Idiot. Let’s go. Didn’t you say you wanted a drink?” Kazumi muttered, lowering her head as she clung to his arm.

“Yeah.” Masashi held her hand and continued walking.

He always says things that make me want to cry, Kazumi thought, silently cursing him as they walked.

When they reached the front of the school building, they noticed a makeshift wooden stage, lavishly decorated. On it, a group of boys and girls were performing a play, albeit somewhat awkwardly. A crowd of students had gathered below to watch.

“By the way, I remember you mentioned during the last school festival that you were supposed to participate in a play but didn’t. What role were you originally going to play?” Masashi asked, watching the stiff fairytale performance on stage.

“How do you even remember such trivial things?” Kazumi asked.

“I have a good memory.”

“Well, I’m not telling you,” Kazumi said with a mischievous grin.

Masashi smiled and didn’t press further. He liked seeing Kazumi this lively and cheerful.

Looking for a place to sit and drink, they casually entered a classroom on the second floor that had been transformed into a café.

“Welcome!” A cute girl in a waiter’s uniform greeted them with a bow and a radiant smile, looking surprisingly professional.

“What would you like to drink?” Another girl came over to take their order once they were seated.

“Kazumi, what do you want?” Masashi asked.

“A glass of iced water.”

“Make that two,” Masashi said to the girl.

“Please wait a moment,” the girl replied, jotting down the order before walking away.

“What time does Rumi’s baseball game start?” Masashi asked.

“2 PM. Let’s buy a bento later and bring it over for her,” Kazumi suggested.

Masashi nodded. “Although the baseball coach will likely prepare lunch for her, it’s better to bring something just in case.”

***

At 2 PM sharp, the baseball game began.

Nearly fifty students, including both regular and substitute players from both schools, gathered on the baseball field.

In Tokyo, where land is outrageously expensive, having a standard baseball field not only showcased Kawaki Private High School’s wealth but also highlighted the school’s dedication to baseball.

Many schools, including Masashi’s public school, rarely had dedicated baseball fields. Their baseball clubs often had to practice on regular playgrounds, and sometimes, when the playground was occupied, they resorted to training on rooftops.

Baseball is a national sport in Japan, with many boys starting to play at a young age. Parents widely support their children in taking up the sport.

High school baseball competitions were even more frequent, with national tournaments like the Kokutai Baseball Tournament and the Meiji Jingu Tournament.

High school baseball garners immense attention because many professional players are scouted from high school teams. Among these tournaments, the Koshien (Japan High School Baseball Championship) is undoubtedly the pinnacle.

The Koshien is a national competition that excites every high school baseball player. Held twice a year, in spring and summer, it involves over 4,102 teams and an uncountable number of games.

To qualify for Koshien, a team must defeat all the other high school teams in its region to secure an entry ticket. The final matches are held in a stadium that can accommodate 70,000 spectators, with millions tuning in via TV and radio broadcasts, making it a nationally celebrated event.

Unlike Masashi’s school, Kawaki High School’s baseball team was famous, having once placed third in Koshien.

Every year on its founding anniversary, Kawaki High School hosted a baseball game. This year, perhaps as a favor to the principal, Masashi’s school was invited to participate—a rare exception.

Standing outside the chain-link fence, Masashi couldn’t help but smile when he spotted Rumi in her pitcher’s uniform. Though much smaller than her teammates, the outfit suited her perfectly.

“It doesn’t matter if they win or lose, as long as she doesn’t get hurt,” Kazumi said, a bit worried.