In A Fog

Ichiro was conflicted with mixed signals.

They had won the game. He had played his best and got some really astounding plays in. When he felt like he wasn’t able to keep up and was fading, his coaches realized it at the same time and switched him out for Ishida. And then he went on to crush their opponents just as thoroughly as Ichiro had done while he was on the mound.

So why yet again during the time when they should all be celebrating and cheering each other on is Ishida seeming so upset with Ichiro on the fringes of the team? And yet again, unable to confront him, he watches the younger pitcher disappear off afterward when they had finished cleaning up after themselves.

Frustrated, Ichiro tugged his ball bag up higher on his shoulder with a huff as he stared out into the dugout, the last place he had seen him. Shaking his head as he headed off towards the dispersing crowd, he caught a glimpse of two people he hadn’t noticed before that moment.

“Mom! Dad!” he shouted and ran up to meet them. As he approached, he had to be mindful of the red dirt covering him from the ball field and tried not to spread it unnecessarily.

“You played really well today,” his mother's cheerful words lit up Ichiro as he stood directly before his parents. “It's a shame they didn't keep you in the game longer, but at least you had a great first half of the game. But I could see you struggling there towards the end. Is everything alright?”

“I am OK, mom.” He blushed, scratching his cheek nervously, “Just playing my hardest. Can’t do that forever, you know?”

“Just don’t hurt yourself again, that’s all I ask.” His mother sighed, placing a worried hand on his cheek.

“Great plays out there, son,” his father nodded, dressed in a tight-fitting casual outfit that barely contained his muscular arms. “Catching that runner leading off on second? I don’t know how you can see behind your head like that.” He reached out to ruffle the ball cap still on Ichiro's head.

“Thank you, sir,” Ichiro laughed slightly as his father's large hand nearly covered his entire head and playfully pushed him around. “I didn't even notice you guys at all in the stands,” he continued, after shrugging off his father's arm. “I guess I was really engrossed in the game or something.”

Though that wasn’t completely true. He had scanned the crowd several times while he rested on the bench, but never once had he seen his parents out there. In fact, he was starting to blush just thinking about how terrible it would be to admit that, so he kept his mouth shut otherwise.

Actually, he wasn’t expecting to see them at all. After all these years, them both being there to see him play was rarer than him coming home to a quiet and empty house at sunset after his practice. It was a surprise that prevented him from doing anything besides smiling excitedly.

“That's how it should be, Ichiro,” his father nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like I always tell you, keep your goals—”

He was interrupted by his son, who finished the sentence, saying, “-in focus and never waver from them. I know, I know, Dad.”

His father, momentarily taken aback by Ichiro's ability to complete the sentence, sighed and shook his head, a smile forming on his lips. “Very good, my boy.”

Ichiro couldn't hide the pride that was building on his face. He wanted to receive more praise at that moment, knowing that he would have to do more to earn it. However, something caught the corner of his eye.

Across the lot, he noticed several girls standing in a semicircle. It didn’t take him long to recognize, Hina stood at the center of the group. Her arms crossed, and her head bent down, as if she was looking at something on the ground.

At that moment, Ichiro felt a twinge in his soul. Something he couldn’t explain was pulling him towards her, frustrating him.

“Uh, hey,” he stumbled over his words as he took sudden and hurried sideways steps away from his parents. “I'm going over there for just a moment. I'll be back real quick. Sorry.”

His mother’s face curled downward in concern as she watched him wave back to them after dropping his bag at their feet before turning to run off towards the crowd of girls. She began to reach out as if to call him back, but her husband pushed down her hand, shaking his head.

“But dear-” she tried to reason with him.

“It’ll be alright.” He sighed, bending down to pick up his son’s gear. “You know how boys his age are with girls. Plus,” he chuckled, “he’s a chip off the old block. He will be fine.”

She cast a sideways glance at her husband and ribbed him with her elbow, “That’s what I am worried about…”

As Ichiro quickly moved across the lot, he kept trying to see what Hina was looking at, but someone always seemed to conveniently block his view whenever he shifted to get a better look. But through the few brief glimpses, he was certain of what she was standing in front of.

“What's going on here?” Ichiro asked, approaching the group of teenage girls. As a few of them looked up, he recognized them as members of Hina's friend group. Their faces contorted from a sense of disgust to one of worry upon seeing him. They began reaching out and trying to get her attention.

“What? Do you min-” Hina huffed at her friends until she looked over her shoulder and saw who was talking to them in the first place. “Oh, Ichiro, wh-what are you doing here?”

“I was just playing a game, why wouldn't I be here?” he asked incredulously.

“O-oh right,” Hina laughed nervously, taking a step back. “But, um, didn't you see me cheering you on?”

Sighing, Ichiro shook his head. “Sorry, I was focused on the game. I didn't even notice my parents in the crowd. My bad. Thank you for cheering us on.” A sense of frustration from missing yet another person in the crowd watching washed over him, but it was quickly quelled by the other feeling bubbling up within him.

“R-right!” Hina regained her composure. “We're glad you won. But we were going to go celebrate at Benny's down the street. Do you want to join us?”

Ichiro watched as Hina kept moving, attempting to block whatever was behind her back from him. Whenever he shifted his footing to get a better look around her, she would cutely lean in the same direction, tilting her head as if to keep drawing his focus onto her. Batting her eyelashes, she maintained eye contact.

“Sorry again,” Ichiro waved his arms lightly, defensively gesturing to her to calm down. “I'm going home with my family. My apologies.”

“Oh, that's fine,” her eyes turned down, completely forlorn. “It's alright. We were about to leave anyway. Sorry you can't come. We'll see you at school on Monday, right?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

“Uh, bye?” Hina's voice was very soft as she began to walk away, biting her lower lip as she quickly made her escape. Her friends stayed put for a moment, casting glances amongst themselves, before following close behind her.

Ichiro watched as they slowly made their way into the crowd and disappeared from his sight. Without turning away from where he last saw her, he spoke, “Are you OK?”

Cutting his eyes to the side, he saw Izumi still sitting in her wheelchair, her cheeks red as she stuck out her tongue towards where Hina had been. In front of her stood Mizuki, with her arms up in a defensive position between her sister and where Hina was, and where Ichiro was now. Mizuki's eyes locked on him, still glaring.

“Yeah, we're fine,” Izumi finally answered after putting her tongue away. “We were just chatting about how the game went. You know how us high school girls can get, right?”

“Really?” Ichiro asked, subtly glancing over the condition of the two girls. “Isn’t she supposed to be your new helper?”

“Yeah, Izumi leaned back in her seat, casting her eyes to the side while wrapping her hands around her elbows. “She was… just giving me some guidance. That’s all.”

“You sure?” He asked her, his tone calm and even.

“Yes, but, it was a good game, though” Izumi laughed as she wheeled herself around Mizuki to be able to talk better with Ichiro. “Wish I could have seen it better from the stands, but oh well.”

Ichiro kept his eyes laser-focused between the two girls, Mizuki still not moving with her arms up. Izumi caught sight of that and gently tugged on her sister's ponytails, causing her to flinch, dropping her arms finally.

He raised a brow in confusion. “You were there? I didn’t see you at all.”

Blushing, Izumi began fidgeting with her fingers. “The stands aren’t exactly wheelchair accessible. So I found a nice little spot out by the corner of the field by the end of the fences. Get some good shade so it's not too hot out there. Really.”

That last part Ichiro could feel wasn’t directed for him to hear. “Alright, if you guys say so,” he let out a sigh, brushing the back of his head. “I never expected to see you here, honestly.”

“What?” Izumi raised a hand over her mouth, giving her normal haughty response. “I told you I wanted to see you play at least once, right? Or did you think you'd have to pine for me from afar, while I never gave you the time of day? Such a tragically romantic plot line.”

“No,” Ichiro cut her daydreaming short with swift decisiveness, “I never thought you actually would. Show up to watch me, that is.”

Izumi froze for a second, her hand still held up over her mouth, but now moving to hide more of her cheeks, while Mizuki glared harder at Ichiro after seeing her sister's reaction.

“Well, now I have,” she kept her eyes averted, doing her best to not look up at him, “and I can cross that off my list of things I want to experience to be a better writer. Oh!” With a loud outburst, she threw her hands on her wheels and began pushing herself away from them as quickly as possible, “And now I have to get a ballpark hot dog to complete the experience.”

“I can go-” but before he could finish his sentence, she was already almost at the concession stand at the park's entrance.

“No, I got it, don't worry!” She cut him short with a wave of her arm as she casually disappeared into the crowd again.

“R-right,” Ichiro agreed, feeling a slight embarrassment coloring his cheeks. He brushed the back of his head, nervously kicking the dirt, unsure of what to do next.

Suddenly, there was a tug on the back of his shirt that almost pulled it completely untucked. Turning around to see what was causing this, he saw Mizuki's still glaring eyes locked onto him. Her small hands held fast onto him, preventing him from escaping.

“Uh, Mizuki, was it?” he nervously laughed, trying to gently free himself from the short girl's grip. “Can I help you with something?”

Her eyes remained fiercely on him, not even budging in the slightest as she began to speak, “She’s been at every one of your home games.”

“Huh?” That didn’t make any sense to Ichiro. Of course now he was realizing he hadn’t seen her, because he was looking in the wrong place the entire time. But even afterward when they were texting, she claimed that she had wished to see him play in person each time. Why would she do something like that?

“What are you-” He tried to ask, but Mizuki cut him off.

Her eyes shot across the lot to where Izumi was doing her best to be seen by the vendors amidst the crowd of other customers. Mizuki's vision remained steady, not looking back at Ichiro as she began speaking, her voice barely audible.

“Watch over my sister for me, OK?”