A Little Rain Must Fall

Ichiro could not believe what was happening.

It was the bottom of the 9th inning and for almost the entire game he was silently sat on the bench. The game was a strange one for him to watch. And it seemed like an easy victory going in.

The team they were playing had a less than stellar record going into that match. Watching them warm-up on the opposite side of the field, they knew they were no pushovers, but it was clear that they were in over their heads. Chuckling and taking things pretty easy, Ichiro and his teammates felt relieved that they wouldn’t have to overwork themselves to win this one.

Feeling confidence flowing throughout him, Ichiro prepared to completely strike anyone who dared approach the plate. And it seemed like that was going to be the case. The first few were swinging wide and completely missing throws that if they just took their time could have possibly been hit. Things were going just as he had planned, but Takuya’s hand signs told him to not get overconfident.

Nodding with agreement, Ichiro released a breath into his glove, before he prepared his next throw. The next strike would shut out the first inning without a single batter taking a base. But his plan was to play with this guy a little longer. So he threw him a wide swinging curve ball, an easy-to-read pitch that would lead to one more ball.

But surprisingly, the batter put his all into his swing. Ichiro’s eyes went wide when he heard the crack of the bat smacking that wild ball hard into the sky above. The sound seemed to reverberate within all the players on the field who, though ready, were more ready to head back to the dugout than to prepare for a play.

They had just barely got to the ball when the batter rounded first heading for second, but luckily the right fielder was able to get under it and catch it in time. As the umpire called the out, Ichiro found the entire team on the field staring at each other, slightly dumbfounded, wondering where that came from.

Unfortunately, the rest of the game didn’t go much better. After that first hit, each one of the batters were brave enough to swing at pitches they had no right swinging at, getting lucky hits and catching the entire team off guard, causing them to scramble to make plays. Some minor screw-ups allowed a few runners to be batted in.

More astounding than their odd batting style was the impressively tight defense. If they could hit the ball, it didn’t matter much because the opposing team would have them pinned with perfect throws to get the ball where it needed to be to get the out in the most effective way.

Completely stunned, Ichiro couldn’t tell what was happening. Their game was quickly deteriorating when they had expected such a painless win. Right as he was getting up to pitch in the 3rd inning, his coach told him to sit it out and pulled Ishida instead.

Ichiro was not prepared to be benched so early, as he felt he had a few more innings in him. But he had to agree, a change in pace would probably help them out before they utterly lost. So he huffed in defeat as he took his place on the bench.

Not wanting to watch how bad things might go, he glanced over the crowd. The entirety of the stands seemed to be in an uproar. Much like how the team was feeling, they were confused how poorly the game was going for them. And they were definitely vocally expressing that disdain. Boos and jeers echoed throughout the diamond as the next batter was announced out.

Amongst the crowd, Ichiro did notice Hina cheering and crying out his name even though he was benched. The sight of her friends giving her worried looks as they tried not to be as involved as she was, brought a small smile to his face.

Shaking his head, he turned to watch the game again, but in his line of sight towards Ishida as he took his first pitch, he saw someone out at the edge of the field. He didn’t see how the fast ball that caused the first strike out of the inning, but instead saw a girl holding onto the chain link fence and leaning forward out of her chair to see the game better. Her bubbly enthusiasm as she moved around from the waist in order to get a better look brought a smile to his face.

But it was how she was constantly looking to find that better view that caused a stir inside him. Looking around, he knew there was a better spot for her to watch from. Even if it wasn’t up in the stands, she could at least see the game better right next to the dugout. He did his best to subtly wave her down so she could see where he was pointing to go.

Tragically, when she did finally notice him on the bench, she didn’t see his covert hand signs as anything but cutely waving at her. The sight of him like that made her giggle and wave back, big and goofy.

Ichiro never wanted to leave a game early before, but knowing that he couldn’t, he was suddenly filled with the need to have his phone, which was back in the locker room. Sighing in defeat, he sank back in his seat and watched the game unfold.

It wasn’t going well. Ishida was doing his best to keep them from scoring. It was scary how well he could read the batters intentions and play with them to get them to swing on pitches they normally wouldn’t on. He kept them on their toes for quite a while.

But then another loud pop happened. Ichiro didn’t see the pitch nor the hit itself, but as he turned his head away from another glance at Izumi, he saw the ball right as it collided with Ishida, who crumpled to the ground in a heap holding his face.

The entire crowd went utterly silent as the coaches rushed over to check on the poor boy laying out at the bottom of the mound with his hands over his nose. A short while later, two of them had him propped up and helped him walk off the field, with the towel they had brought him turning a dark shade of red.

While they patiently waited for their coach to return, whispers traveled across the dugout. Most were concerned with Ishida, as they rightly should, how hard he got hit, but others were strangely more concerned with another question.

“Who’s gonna pitch for us?”

Ichiro raised a brow in confusion when he heard that one. Glancing around the dugout, he couldn’t find who had said it, as they all were mostly quiet, everyone seeming to not be talking, yet whispers were about.

Taking his glove into his hand, he wanted to pop whoever asked such a stupid question over their head, but instead put it on and waited for the coach to return to call out the new plan of action.

It was the top of the 7th inning. All they had to do was move him back in and he would show the other team who the better team was. He was popping the palm of the glove with his other hand, knocking dirt from the field off it when the coach returned. The old man’s face shone bright red as his attitude towards the situation was obvious.

“Takeda, you're covering for Ishida.”

“Huh?” Ichiro let it roll out of his mouth as he watched the freshman look around with a confused face, wondering why he was called. By the time he realized what was happening, he didn’t question anything and pulled on his glove and ran out onto the field without a word.

Ichiro popped his glove one last time, not knowing what was happening. They had taken him out early, sure, that’s fine. He could easily admit that he wasn’t doing his best earlier. But now they had completely skipped over him to replace Ishida, who had been sent to the school’s nurse’s office and instead sent in a freshman who had never pitched a high school level game before. What was happening.

He looked up desperately at his coach for understanding, but he was busy yelling at Takeda and calling out plays for him to do. Shoulders slumping, Ichiro felt his glove slip off his hand and fall to the ground. His eyes pretty absently staring out over the field as the game played itself out without him.

This was such a strange day to say the least to Ichiro. He felt as if he had slipped into some strange twilight zone. The game wasn’t going much better. It had moved at a near tit-for-tat pace, each run they scored the other team returned the next inning.

Desperately, Takeda tried to hold his own, but he was no match for the older batters due to his lack of experience and his smaller body. Soon plays were being made with the team barely able to keep up with them. A pop fly over the fence at the top of the 9th inning led to a triple, moving the game in the lower ranked team closer to victory.

Worse of all, in the last moments of the game, Ichiro was the next batter to try to knock in at least one more runner with him to tie up the game again. It was their last chance, and they already had two outs and he was not the best batter on the team. Actually, he was quite notoriously the worst batter on the team.

Knowing this, Ichiro wanted his coach to switch him out for a pinch hitter, but apparently that wasn’t possible at that moment. So he took his place at the plate. Breathing a heavy breath, he raised the bat and prepared to swing. He carefully watched the pitcher as he threw the ball with all of his might. First ball, wide, spinning out so far the catcher had to practically jump to the side to catch it. Wondering if he would just be walked like this, Ichiro stayed still and ready for the next pitch.

Winding up, the pitcher moved his body and hand exactly like the previous pitch, so Ichiro remained completely still. “Strike” the umpire called as the ball sailed directly over home plate dead center in his strike zone. His head shot up, looking around as if he missed something. How could two of the exact same pitches differ so wildly and be so hard to read.

It didn’t go any better. One more wide pitch that curved out again made him want to swing on it, but he resisted, giving him one more ball. But then another pitch, this one more obvious that it was a straight throw, passed by. He barely had the chance to react to it by the time he realized what kind of pitch it was, making his swing late. Strike two.

Frustration echoed throughout his mind as he tightened his grip once more. He was ready this time. Nothing was going to get by him without him allowing it to. The pitch was thrown, yet another line drive pitch. And with all his might, Ichiro swung right as the ball dipped downward. The bat swung over the home plate while the ball barely rolled over it.

“Strike Three! You’re Out! Game Over!” The umpire roared as Ichiro remained still in his position post swing. His eyes gazing out towards where the ball should have been flying, but all he saw was clouds dotting the horizon.

He finally let the tip of the bat touch the ground after the opposing team began to cheer from their dugout. Letting it drag through the dirt, Ichiro headed back to his team’s dugout with his head down. He wanted to throw the bat as far as he could, but he kept his emotions in check. He didn’t want to show his teammates that it was acceptable to behave in such a way in defeat.

Silently, he opened his gear bag and began to put away his equipment, like the rest of the team. Amongst the rustling of the bags, quiet conversations rippled again. Most of them were groaning in ways Ichiro more than agreed with but kept quiet out of respect for the game.

“Man, it sucks to lose.”

“Yeah, looked like we were going to win this one, huh?”

“It would have been different if Ishida was not injured.”

“Too bad we didn’t have anyone to take over for him.”

“Takeda did his best, but as for Ishii…”

Ichiro felt his ears perk up at the mention of his name. He glanced around the dugout, trying to discern who said it. But no one seemed to be talking. It was as if that second his head raised up, everyone else ducked away. Zipping his bag close, he gave his team one more look over as they prepared to clean up the field afterward. Pulling the bag over his shoulder, he walked out of the dugout, leaving the rest of the team there as he looked out at the overcast sky.