Under the Weather

Ichiro leaned back and took a long sip from his milk carton.

High above, clouds drifted by peacefully. Watching them fade into the distance, carried by the still-hot winds of the dwindling summer days, resonated deep within his soul. He couldn't quite explain it, but he felt an unshakeable need to watch them as they vanished beyond the horizon.

It had been several days since their unceremonious loss in the tournament, and since then, Ichiro couldn't relieve himself of the indescribable hollow feeling inside him. Suddenly, all of his desires to do anything dried up.

Even when Izumi tried calling him over the phone at the end of each day, he ignored them. At the moment, he didn't want to talk out loud, especially not with her. When she changed her tactics to texting, he did respond.

She expressed her sympathy for his loss, but all he could do was wonder how she knew about it so shortly after it happened if she wasn't there to watch him play. However, to answer her concerns about how he was feeling, he would brush it off with simple, short reassurances. It felt strange, but seeing her worry about him did bring small smiles to his cheeks.

But now, he was sitting outside the school on his lunch break. He had grown tired of the constant chatter surrounding him in the classroom and sought refuge in the courtyard outside. When had they all become so vapid and empty with their conversations?

Though the silence of the outdoors was nice, the intense heat of the sun beating down relentlessly would boil him alive if he hadn't found shade under the school's walkway overhang. Not even the occasional breeze was enough to keep him from sweating. So he waved a free hand while taking another sip from his now-warming milk carton.

A buzzing sound beside him caught his attention, forcing his eyes to the side. On the concrete of the walkway, a large cicada was struggling to break free from its shell. It was incredibly late for them to molt their shells, and this one was spinning in circles, desperately trying to free itself from its prison.

Completely enraptured by the sight of its struggles, he continued to watch. Around him, time stood still as he waited to see the outcome. After what could have been years to him, it finally pried itself free and moved around, buzzing its wings to dry them before taking off far from its discarded shell.

He couldn't explain it, but for some reason, he no longer cared for what the cicada was doing and continued to watch the empty shell next to him, wondering what would happen next to it.

He took another long sip of his milk, making a loud slurping sound as it was now empty. Even still, he took another long swig on the straw.

“Are you going to keep making all of that noise?” A voice rose up beside him, bringing him back to reality. Turning his attention to the other side, he noticed Takuya squatted down next to him, sweating as well as he slowly worked on his bento, speaking between chews, “It's empty, give it a break already.”

Shaking the empty carton to confirm his friend was right, he crushed it up in his hand and sighed, “Sorry. I don't know why I keep doing that. A nervous tick or something?”

“Maybe?” Takuya shrugged, taking another bite of his meal, continuing to speak between chews. “I just know it's peaceful out here. Don't ruin that for me.”

“Alright,” Ichiro sighed, unsure of what else to do at the moment. He was itching to do something, but his mind was completely blank, and he couldn't focus on studying either. Instead, he cast his eyes back up at the sky and followed the clouds as they moved across the horizon.

“It's weird right?”

“What is?” Ichiro asked, looking from the corner of his eyes at his friend.

“This,” Takuya answered, closing up his bento and saying a silent thanks for the meal before continuing, “Just sitting here. Having nothing to do. Not worrying about the next test. Not worrying about the next game.” He raised a hand and awkwardly played with his hair as he continued his thoughts, “Not having to rush around between practices. I can just sit back, relax, and not think about what I need to do next. Strange, isn't it?”

“You need to be studying regardless,” Ichiro scoffed, giving a wry smile and turning his eyes back up to the sky, “We do have midterms coming up, after all.”

“Yeah, but think about it,” Takuya continued, knitting his fingers together as he spoke up again, his head raised up, staring at the ceiling of the overhang, “We have been playing for almost 10 years nonstop, and now it's just… over.”

Ichiro felt a knife dig its way deep into his heart when he heard that last word. He turned his eyes from the sky to the shell beside him, putting an open hand onto his forehead as he moved.

“… Sorry.”

But instead of the reprimanding he was expecting, he heard a soft laugh come from his friend. “You keep saying that,” Takuya shook his head, “but it's not your fault.”

“I know, but…” he searched for the right words, “I just couldn't-”

But his friend cut him off before he could even formulate any further excuses, “You do realize it's a team sport, right? You didn't lose the game, we did.”

Ichiro bit his lip, knowing Takuya wasn't wrong. But still, a nagging feeling in his chest made him continue on. “But I could have pitched better. I know I could have.”

“And I could have been faster on my plays,” Takuya replied quickly, “Even given better shot calls to you, but that's not now. It's in the past now.”

“Still…”

“We went up against a better team. That's all there is to it,” Takuya sighed, turning his head slightly to the side and resting it on one arm raised to balance it, “Did you really think we had a chance to win Koshien?”

“Kinda?” Ichiro winced, but Takuya only sighed as he continued again.

“I would be lying if I didn't say the same. But we have to be realistic; we got pretty far, and we played great. It was an amazing run, but it had to come to an end eventually.”

“Yeah,” Ichiro wanted to throw himself on the ground and melt into the concrete, “It didn't have to stop this early though.”

“Alright, you are pissing me off, so just drop it, OK?”

Ichiro turned to see his friend pointing at him with eyes furrowed in an intense glare that made him flinch. He could have continued arguing, but he knew it wouldn't lead anywhere, so he leaned back his head and sighed.

“Alright.”

He couldn't see it, but Takuya was smiling with half-lidded eyes as he watched his friend reeling around in self-torment at being bested once again. “Did you get scouted at all?”

Ichiro lowered his head and rested it on one of his hands. He hadn’t realized it until that point, but part of why he had been playing for all these years in high school was to get scouted for a college team. In the rush of his life these last couple of months, he hadn’t noticed that not once had a scout approached him in the slightest. “No. What about you?”

“Nah,” Takuya snickered, rubbing his nose as he looked upwards again. “I don’t think we got to the point where scouts start showing up.”

A pit opened up inside Ichiro's chest. He knew that wasn’t true, he had seen Takuya talking to some people after a couple of games right before they were eliminated from the bracket. Those people were wearing clothes representing some pretty well known and respected college teams. He didn’t know why, but he knew his friend was lying to him. And for some strange reason, he thanked him for doing that.

“Guess that just leaves tryouts after or taking the entrance exams and hoping for the best, huh?” Ichiro sighed, leaning back against the concrete wall to better balance himself as he continued to look towards the sky. For several seconds, a calm silence fell over the two of them.

"Yeah, guess so…” Takuya finally spoke slowly and softly as his words trailed off, “But hey,” the former catcher continued, completely changing his tone and the topic as he started up again, “Since we got some more free time, do you think you could help me with the science lecture? It's going over my head, and I feel like I might have to retake these tests or something.”

Ichiro gave a quick confused look but only let out a restrained laugh, trying not to insult his friend too much, “You just need to do your homework for once, and you might stand a chance.”

“Please, man, save me!" Takuya clasped his hands in a sign of prayer as he begged his friend for help.

Rolling his eyes, Ichiro laughed again, “Alright, alright, let's see what we can do.” He raised his fist, and Takuya bumped it back with his own.