While the Sun Shines

Ichiro tried his best to clear his mind.

All he had to do was stay focused for just a little while longer, and everything would be over soon.

The situation was critical—it was the bottom of the 9th inning, with the score at 1-3. Although the bases were loaded, an effortless double play previously eliminated the runner on first. Now, all he needed to do was strike out the upcoming batter and secure their team's long-awaited first victory.

Although the crowds in the stands were roaring, Ichiro managed to shut out all external distractions. At that moment, the only existence in his universe were the players on the field—nothing and no one else mattered.

He released a silent sigh into his glove, preparing for his next pitch. His gaze shifted to key points on the field, observing all the players' movements in slow motion.

Directly in front of him squatted Takuya, adorned in catcher's padding. Using his free hand, he signaled Ichiro to ignore the other runners. Then, his hand gesture changed to indicate the recommended pitch—a breakneck fastball.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Ichiro positioned himself to begin his pitch. His eyes locked onto the batter, who stood at the plate with his bat raised high.

Ichiro was determined not to make the same mistake twice now. The game started as a simple shut out game, but he was switched out for Ishida to take over for the second half of the game. In the 8th inning, a wild pitch from Ishida allowed a runner to be batted home.

This was the reason the coach had brought him back to end the game, even though he was technically still pretty worn out from pitching half of the game already. Fortunately, he had gotten two pitches to slip past the batter already. He just needed one more strike to end the game.

A bead of sweat trickled down Ichiro's temple, but he focused solely on Takuya’s open and ready glove, calming his nerves. He wound up for his pitch, raising his leg high in the air.

This would be the final pitch of the game.

With a twist of his hip, he slammed his foot down and rotated his entire body behind the ball, unleashing the ball from his fingertips. In the blink of an eye, the ball seemed to vanish as it hurtled towards the batter, who swung with all his might.

Time slowed to a crawl as the bat and ball approached each other. With only a fraction of a centimeter between them, they passed each other without collision.

The ball slammed forcefully into Takuya's glove, its spin threatening to push him off his feet, while the batter's swing nearly caused him to lose his balance as he twisted under his own force. It was as if both had given their all at that moment, but the batter fell just short.

At the same instant, the umpire called him out, and the crowd erupted into a chaotic mix of shouts, cheers, and jeers.

It took several seconds for Ichiro to realize that it was over, as he stood motionless, still poised for the play to continue. It wasn't until Takuya and a few others rushed toward him, nearly toppling him over, that his tense body finally relaxed, and he drew his first breath in several seconds.

Amidst the cascading affirmations of his skills, Ichiro's teammates lifted him back up, their excitement and energy contagious. Ichiro joined them in cheering and screaming with sheer joy.

However, in the midst of the celebration, whenever he found a spare moment, he scanned the crowd. He had done it for most of the game when he wasn’t on the pitcher’s mound, as he wanted to make sure his head was in the game. But now that he was free from that, and he could let his eyes wander the stands, he failed time and time again to see Izumi.

His cheering died down a little, while everyone continued to pat him on the back.

“Way to go, man!” Takuya threw his arm over Ichiro’s shoulder and cheered loudly into the sky. “It’s a shame your parents weren’t here to see you back in action again!”

Though the cheering was still loud, Ichiro wasn’t sure what his friend’s words meant for several seconds. “Huh?” barely rolled from his lips when Takuya pointed up to the stands.

“I saw you constantly looking out there,” he shook his friend as the celebration began to work its way towards the dugout. “Sorry your parents weren’t out there, but hey, Hina was out there for you, right?”

Ichiro was going to openly question if Hina was really there when they arrived beside the coach, and he began to join in the celebration while yelling out commands for them to start cleaning up for a post game review.

***

Long after the game had ended and the post-game clean-up and coaching review were completed, Ichiro walked home alone.

His friends had already gone their separate ways, leaving Ichiro to traverse the orange-tinged roads, painted by the setting sun. As he walked, he absentmindedly scrolled through his phone to pass the time.

He repeatedly checked Lime, hoping for any updates, but each time, nothing had.

He also checked multiple times to see if Izumi had read his last message. He had informed her about their victorious first game, and she had initially congratulated him and apologized for being unable to make it. Their conversation had gone on for a couple more messages after that, but she had stopped responding, leaving his message unread.

She said she would be back soon. He knew he just had to be patient.

With a heavy sigh, Ichiro finally put his phone away as he reached the wooden fence door leading to his house.

Upon entering, he set down his duffel bag and called out, “I'm home!”

“Good to see you home, dear!,” His mother's gentle voice responded from the kitchen as he entered the main room of the house, now bathed in warmth, “Congratulations on your win today. I feel terrible that we missed it, though.”

“It's alright, Mom.” Ichiro replied, letting out another sigh as his mother set down the dish she was cleaning and walked over to embrace him. “I understand what was going on.”

“I still feel terrible for you, Ichiro,” his mother said, pulling back from the hug and patting his head. “I just wish your father wouldn’t hold meetings here so I wouldn’t have to act as hostess and instead watch you play for once.”

“It's alright, Mom,” he repeated, “I understand.”

His mother gave him a pained expression, as if she wanted to find the right words to alleviate the situation, but couldn't quite grasp them.

“Ichiro!” a booming voice echoed from his father's office at the far end of the house, “Have you already arrived home?”

“Yes sir!” Ichiro turned his attention from his mother to respond.

“Then please, come here!”

Following his father's summons, Ichiro walked away from his mother and made his way into his father's office.

As he slid open the traditional door, the musky scent of the large tatami mat room filled his senses. The walls were lined with bookshelves crammed full, adorned on top with pictures and awards his father had earned from both his career but also from when he was in college. Ichiro’s eyes rolled over all the awards with a bit of pride. Though his award shelf did nothing to compare the sheer amount of acclaims his father had earned, he knew he would one day rival him, if not surpass him.

In the center of the room, a low wooden desk sat, and behind it, his father sat cross-legged on a throw pillow, immersed in his work, not looking up.

“Please, sit down.”

Obeying his father's instructions, Ichiro closed the sliding door behind him and took his position on the throw pillow directly across the table. Sitting on his knees with a straight back, he maintained a steady gaze at his father through the cover of the documents occasionally held up to be read.

His father, dressed in his relaxed jinbei attire, his eyes partially concealed behind reading glasses, appeared as a towering figure compared to Ichiro. His broad shoulders alone could be intimidating to most, and his stern expression didn't help ease the tension in any room he was in.

It was times like this that Ichiro was glad he took after his mother, or else he would have a build more suited for Judo rather than playing Baseball.

Continuing to sort through the paperwork, his father remained focused on his task. “How did your game go today, Ichiro?”

“We won, sir.” Ichiro replied succinctly.

“Excellent.” his father nodded, his attention still fixed on the papers, “I am glad to hear that. If you keep this up, your team has a good chance of winning Koshien this year. I am proud of you."

“Thank you, sir.” Ichiro expressed his gratitude with a bow.

Putting down the papers, Ichiro's father looked up at his son. “I'm sorry your mother and I couldn't be there to watch you play. And so early in the season, too.”

“I understand, sir.”

His father merely nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Once this merger is completed, I should have more time to attend your games. I look forward to it, son.”

“Thank you sir.” Ichiro bowed once again.

“Just remember,” his father smiled, “what I always tell you, son.”

Ichiro nodded in agreement, reciting the familiar words his father had ingrained in him countless times before, “keep my goals in focus and never waver from them.”

His father chuckled softly and smiled.

“Very good, son. You are dismissed.”