Aoi didn't remember walking home.
His legs just… moved on their own, carrying him through quiet rural streets, past the same old vending machines and the same rice fields he'd sprinted past every morning. But today, everything looked different.
He had been scouted.
Him.
His chest still buzzed with the shock of it—like someone had plugged him into a socket and forgotten to pull the cord out.
When he slid the door open at home, the warm smell of miso drifted from the kitchen.
"Welcome back," his mother called. She didn't turn around, but she always knew when he entered a room.
Aoi inhaled, forcing his heartbeat to slow.
Nope. Impossible.
He couldn't say it. It felt too big for his throat.
He opened his mouth anyway.
"Hey, uh… Mom? Dad? Can I… tell you something?"
His father glanced up from the table, brow raised. His little sister paused mid-bite, staring at him with suspiciously wide eyes—as if she knew something dramatic was coming.
Aoi swallowed.
"I… got scouted."
The chopsticks fell out of his father's hand.
His mother froze.
His sister's jaw dropped open like she was about to swallow a fly.
Aoi rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "It's this school… Kose High school. They're famous, or… well, they used to be. The coach came to watch practice today and he said—he said he wants me to join."
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then—
"Aoi!" His mother rushed forward, grabbing his face in both hands. "My son! You got scouted! For baseball!"
His father let out a wheezing laugh. "Unbelievable… you've really worked hard, haven't you?"
Aoi blinked rapidly. Compliments were harder to handle than fastballs.
"I said Yes" he added. "But the scout—Kuroda-san—he wants to show me the campus tommorow."
His father nodded proudly.
His mother hugged him so tightly his ribs squeaked.
Aoi smiled… but the smile didn't feel steady.
Somewhere in his stomach, guilt curled like a fist.
Aoi's chest tightened.
They were happy. They wanted him to go.
So why… why did it feel like he was betraying someone?
----------------------
Later that evening, after helping clean up, Aoi slipped outside. His backyard was small — a patch of grass, dirt on the right side where he practiced pitching, and a beat-up football rolling near the fence.
He kicked it lightly.
He always played football when he was overwhelmed. Something about the rhythm — the ball at his feet, the soft thud-thud-thud — made it easier to breathe.
Aoi dribbled in small circles, head down, thoughts spiraling.
If he went to Kose High…
Would his teammates feel abandoned?
Would his coach think he was giving up on them?
Would he become one of those players who left others behind to chase something bigger?
He stopped the ball under his foot.
He didn't want to be that person.
He wanted to rise with them, not away from them.
But he also wanted— no, needed— to get better.
And Kose was offering him a chance.
His chest hurt just thinking about it.
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The next afternoon, he stood at the gates of Kose High School, hands in his pockets, pretending he wasn't as nervous as he was.
Takeda, the scout, waved him over. "Aoi! Glad you could make it."
Aoi bowed politely. "Thank you for inviting me."
Takeda grinned. "You'll like it here. Come on — practice is underway. We'll go slow so you can take it in."
As they walked, Aoi tried to keep his expression neutral. Calm. Cool. Like this was no big deal.
But inside?
He was screaming.
The fields were massive.
The dirt was perfect — smooth, maintained, no random rocks like his middle school's.
The outfield stretched wide with new green turf.
The bullpen had multiple lanes.
And the sounds— the sharp snap of gloves, the echo of bats, players shouting — it all hit him at once.
Takeda chuckled when he noticed Aoi's stiff shoulders. "Try not to explode. I can tell you're impressed."
"I'm not," Aoi lied immediately, cheeks warm.
Takeda laughed harder. "Right, right. Very stoic. Totally unfazed."
Aoi stared at a third-year throwing from the mound — a tall right-hander with clean form and a smooth delivery. The catcher's mitt barely budged. Everything looked effortless.
Aoi's own body buzzed.
The mound here felt like a stage.
He swallowed hard.
"Overwhelming, huh?" Takeda said gently.
Aoi nodded before he could stop himself.
Takeda slowed. "Listen, Aoi. You're good. You're raw, but your moving fastball, your flexibility, your natural feel — it's real potential. Kose wants to help you grow. But whatever you choose… it's your decision."
Aoi looked down.
He appreciated the words. Truly.
But seeing all of this only twisted the knot in his stomach tighter.
He wanted to be here.
He wanted to belong on this field.
But what about his team back home?
-----------------------
Evening settled by the time he returned home. He dropped his bag by the door and went straight to the backyard again, grabbing his football without thinking.
He started dribbling.
Faster.
Harder.
Short, sharp touches.
The movement steadied him.
Koshien…
Going pro…
Pitching on a real stage…
He wanted it.
But could he choose that path without hurting the people who helped him get this far?
He didn't know.
Not yet.
But he had to decide soon.
And for the first time, he genuinely felt the weight of a dream.