The game finally started. The sound of the first pitch hitting the catcher's mitt was enough to snap me out of my head. I sat between Wakana and Nobu trying to blend in, but my heart was still doing a strange dance against my ribs. It wasn't just the heat or the crowd. It was the weight of the moment…
Wakana was still whispering to Nobu about how cool the older boys at the restroom had been. I kept my eyes fixed on the field but my mind was stuck on that name. Miyuki Kazuya. I knew when a situation shifted from a coincidence into something bigger.
I felt a rush of happiness. It was just the pure and unbelievable luck of being near him. But right underneath it was a sharp cold anxiety. He was already in middle school and it all was getting closer to the main plot...and it was terrifying.
The atmosphere became more extreme as the early innings flew by. I watched the starting pitcher carefully. Every time he shook off a sign, I felt a jolt of excitement. In the fourth inning, the cleanup hitter connected with a hanging curveball. The crack of the bat was different this time deeper and more resonant. The ball soared toward the outfield fence, and for a split second, thousands of people went silent. When the outfielder robbed the home run with a leaping catch at the wall, the stadium erupted in cheers that vibrated through my seat.
"Eijun, did you see that?! He caught it!" Nobu was shaking my shoulder with his face flushed from excitement.
"I saw it" I said and I forced a laugh. Seeing his pure joy helped clear the fog in my head. He was so simple and so present. I envied that.
The stadium lights were so bright they felt like they were exposing every doubt I had hidden away. I felt anxious about the future yet exhilarated by the noise of the crowd.
I wanted to be the one making this place roar. I wanted to be the reason thousands of people held their breath.
The middle innings became a defensive grind. I focused on the catcher's movements, how he set the target, how he shifted his weight to block a ball in the dirt, and how he kept his pitcher calm during bases-loaded situations.
The game moved fast in a blur of white jerseys and the dirt. In the bottom of the ninth inning the closer came in and shut everyone down with fastballs that seemed to "hiss".
When the final was called out the roar of the crowd was like a physical weight. I looked at Miyuki one last time as he stood up to leave with his friend. He just drifted into the sea of people completely unaware that he had just met the person who would eventually challenge him.
"That was something else," Wakana whispered with her eyes wide as we stood up.
"Yeah," I replied and my throat felt dry. "It really was."
We followed the herd out with our ears ringing.
After that we went out to eat before we had to go back. But I just couldn't remember it, I still had my head in the clouds. It was now getting dark, the walk to the station was a blur of Tokyo neon lights. The energy of the game was gone and it was replaced by the heavy humid night air of the city.
The train ride back was quiet. The morning's hype had burned out and left us all exhausted. Nobu was out cold before we even left the city limits with his head lolling against the window. Wakana just stared at her reflection in the glass with a glazed and happy look. I sat there in the dim light of the carriage and replayed every pitch and every movement of the catcher's mitt in my head. And my grandpa was reading a newspaper he bought earlier on the station.
By the time the train finally pulled into the dark quiet station in Nagano the only thing I could think about was getting back to my backyard. The trip was over but the work was just beginning.