"We're having a scrimmage this weekend."
"With whom Coach?"
"Intra-squad."
Around three weeks had passed since my first day of practice with the team. February was almost over along with the winters, bringing pleasant winds filled with cherry blossoms and flowery scents. Spring was upon us but so was the first intra-squad scrimmage.
Last night, right before leaving, Coach had announced the scrimmage to be held this weekend. And since it was Friday yesterday, weekend was already here.
Coach Okabe had called it a "Final checkup" to assess how the newer players were blending into the team before the start of the season. But everyone knew it was more than that. It was the first true chance for us to prove we belonged. And maybe our final chance to compete for a spot on the starting roster.
"All new members will play," he'd said last night, clipboard in hand. "Let's see how you hold up against the veterans."
And just like that, the spark of excitement had spread through the dugout.
The days leading up to it had fallen into a rhythm that defined my new normal.
Mornings began before sunrise — a 5:30 a.m. run through the quiet lanes of Meguro, dew glistening on the pavement, the faint smell of bakeries just opening.After that came a quick breakfast, then school, where I alternated between daydreaming about pitching grips and trying not to doze off. School was extremely easy since I had already passed through it once before. There wasn't even a need for me to put much effort there.
Shinji, on the other hand, still teased me endlessly about being "half-pro already," and I'd just laugh it off.
By 3:30, I was usually on the Yamanote Line, heading to Shibuya, then transferring toward Futako-Tamagawa. From there, the familiar bus ride to the Setagaya Little League Grounds — our home field.
The same 50-minute expedition every day, whether wet or dry.
Evenings meant drills, sprints, and long hours of practice under the floodlights — grounders that bruised my shins, fastballs that stung my glove, and laughter between plays that made every ache worth it.
The return home was followed by a quick dinner and bath which gave way to homework and watching baseball videos on Dad's old PC before falling asleep to the sound of my own exhaustion.
*****
Integration into the team had been surprisingly smooth.
Most of the players didn't treat me like a threat — more like a mascot they wanted to protect. To them, I was the "kid brother" who worked too hard and talked too little.
All this time I had been busy training with the team, coordinating with them, building chemistry. And although we had a couple of preseason friendlies, none of the new additions were given any play time. We all sat on the sidelines and watched just what kind of monsters we were teammates with:
Our captain and batting prodigy, Ren Iwasaki, who had a homer and 2 RBI doubles in the two games he played. He rarely spoke, but when he did, it carried weight. Watching him play during practice was something else — smooth, efficient, frighteningly composed. He was everything I wanted to be in a few years.
There was our ace pitcher Taiyo Suzuki, who was the opposite — loud, charismatic, and ridiculously confident. His fastballs cracked like thunder. Probably hitting close to 90mph at his best, making his slider and fork so much more effective
The speedy leadoff Kiyashi Inoue was pure energy — never stopped talking, never stopped moving.
Then came the infield twins — or, as everyone called them, "the Sawamura show," Sawamura Ono and Sawamura Ota, taking shortstop and second base respectively. They weren't actually twins and looked nothing alike, all they had in common was their first names and their humor. They'd argue over who was better while pulling off double plays like clockwork.
And behind the plate was Rui Takeuchi, vice-captain, and Ren's shadow in discipline. His throws were precise and fast, his presence commanding. Every time I watched him catch, I understood why the team called him the brain of Setagaya.
The infield duo at short and second Sawamura Ono and Sawamura Ota, and lastly the catcher and vice-captain who not only batted after Ren but also kept the whole team in check and was an all-round outstanding player, Rui Takeuchi.
These were the players we — the newcomers — had spent the last few weeks learning from.
'And now, we are supposed to compete with them for a starting spot?' I knew I had a herculean task in ahead of me, but I was determined to give my best.
*****
At home, life was back to a familiar tempo. Dad was off traveling again — Osaka this time, for setting up another new branch. Mom tried not to show it, but her smiles had that faint heaviness behind them. Sometimes, when she thought I wasn't looking, she'd pause by the living room window, lost in thought.
I didn't say anything. Just tried to come home a little earlier, talk a little more, make her laugh when I could. I tried to be there for her as much as I could but my schedule with school and training with the team and personal workouts left me with very little time with Maki and her.
*****
It was Saturday and we had been practicing since early morning. Firstly, personal practice among ourselves — Shiro, Rento, Hiroto, Masaki and me. Masaki Fujikawa was the second outfielder selected in the tryouts and had recently joined our group through Rento.
We had planned to train through the morning before lunch, after which the actual team practices would start and continue till late.
The sky was dyed black with floodlights shining over our heads as practice ended, and everyone began heading to the dugout. The announcement board near the entrance had a new sheet pinned to it — scrimmage team rosters.
Shiro spotted it first. "Yo, Chibi-chan! The official rosters are out for tomorrow!"
I walked over, scanning the list. Sure enough, under Team Newbies, there it was:
P – Riku Tanaka/Takeshima Haruno
C – Shiro Anderson
1B – Shinobu Kawakami
2B – Daisuke Morita
SS – Hiroto Shimizu
3B – Kazuma Ito
RF – Rento Saito
CF – Masaki Fujikawa
LF – Daichi Morino
Daichi Morino, the only guy in our team that was not from the tryouts. A tall, sharp-faced 13-year-old who'd joined from the Junior Division team as a recommendation. The only player younger than him on the entire roster was me.
He'd never said much to me during practices, but I could feel it — that quiet, almost childish rivalry burning just beneath his polite nods. The kind of competitiveness that didn't need words.
On the other hand, the Team Setagaya LL roster looked stacked:
P – Taiyo Suzuki/Koji Taneda
C – Rui Takeuchi/Kenta Arai
1B – Toru Matsunaga
2B – Sawamura Ota
SS – Sawamura Ono
3B – Kenji Yamamoto
RF – Kiyashi Inoue/Haruto Miya
CF – Ren Iwasaki (C)
LF – Ryohei Nakamura
Basically, the best the team had to offer.
Shiro whistled low. "So they've got the captain, the ace, and the vice-captain? Great. We're dead."
Rento sighed. "Don't forget about the infield twins."
"You do know that they're not actually twins, right?" Hiroto interjected. "They are not even related, their family names are different, it's just their first names that match."
"That is what you're focused on?"
Masaki joined in with a quizzical look, "Why do you sound so obsessed with them, Hito?"
"Hey Hito," I said, my lips curving into a small grin. "You know we don't mind if you swing the other way, right?"
Everyone laughed out loud as Hiroto scrunched his face into a frown and started explaining himself vehemently.
It was around 8pm when everybody had cooled down and got ready to leave. But before that both squads gathered separately at the corners of the dugout to plan for tomorrow. The sun had long disappeared behind the horizon, the air turning cooler. Someone had brought canned coffee from the vending machine by the bus stop, and the hiss of the pull tabs filled the quiet.
Sawamura Ono clapped his hands. "Alright, kiddos — time to strategize before Coach decides to run you into the ground tomorrow."
Shiro leaned back against the fence. "I say we let Riku pitch and just pray no one hits it."
"Hey," I said dryly, "I heard that. And before we decide that... why are you here Ota-san?"
Ota grinned. "I'm just here to help my juniors out. And I've told you not to put honorifics, haven't I?" He wrapped his arm around Shiro's shoulder and continued, "You don't use "san" with this guy! We are literally the same age!"
I laughed at his antics then smirked back, "Then can we please have our team meeting now Ota or will I have to drag Captain over here?"
After Ota left and we formally started the discussion, it was Daichi that spoke up first. "We need to show both the Coach and the starters that we are just as good, if not better. That is the only way we can get a chance at a position in the roster."
Silence...
There was no sound after he finished. All eyes were trained at him and with every second passing, Daichi was retreating more and more into himself.
I took a step forward which changed the focus of the group. "Daichi is right. Let us all do our best to beat these veterans and take all the spots for ourselves." I looked around at each and every teammate before continuing, "We don't have any substitutes, and the positions are also pretty straight forward. Let's finalize the batting order as best as we can and then focus on how we are going to take care of our main team starters."
That got everyone relaxed and people started speaking their minds. It took us about 15 minutes to work out the batting order:
#1 Daichi
#2 Shinobu
#3 Riku
#4 Shiro
#5 Kazuma
#6 Hiroto
#7 Rento
#8 Masaki
#9 Daisuke
*****
"If we can take out the powerhouse cleanup crew… then the winds will be in our sail." Hiroto spoke up softly, twirling a baseball in his fingers.
I grinned. "Yes, and where should the rest of our army be Nobunaga-san?"
Everyone lost their heads laughing as Shiro commented, "You really sound like it's a war"
Hiroto just half-smiled and blushed awkwardly going back to playing the ball.
Everyone laughed even harder noticing his reaction. The mood was light, easy — but underneath it, we all knew what to anticipate. Tomorrow wouldn't just be a scrimmage. It was the first time we'd stand across from the veterans — not as spectators, but as equals.
The floodlights had already turned off as we packed our gloves and started walking out. The night air was crisp, the faint hum of the city echoing in the distance.
Shiro slung his bag over his shoulder. "What do you think will happen?"
"Well," I said, watching the diamond fade behind us. "We are gonna steal a few spots from those starters."
He grinned. "You sure about that?"
I thought about it for a moment.
"No," I said finally. "But I'm going down swinging!"