Strike the Coach

Sunday at 7 PM, the outdoor field of the Kinoshita Club was empty. Wind stirred the sand on the pitcher's mound. Coach Ninomiya watched quietly through the open window. Behind him, the Coaching Staff sat silently in their respective seats. Only two people made noise: an old man packing his things, and Kinoshita Yanagi, who had just let out an accidental loud burp.

Kinoshita caught Coach Ninomiya's glare and sat up straight again. Only after the coach turned back to look outside did he sneak a shrug.

"Shouldn't we at least tell the players?" Infield Group Coach Yoshida sat beside the old man who was packing, occasionally handing him something.

"No, no." The old man shook his head hurriedly. "Just tell them I took leave."

"But they'll notice something's off eventually..." Coach Yoshida muttered, a stark contrast to his usual decisive demeanor. It wasn't his fault—anyone would lose themselves when a friend of over a decade was leaving.

"Yoshida!" The old man stopped what he was doing and said solemnly, "Stop rambling. You're turning into a nagging old man."

"What do you mean 'old man'? I'm not even fifty yet." And so the two inexplicably started bickering again.

Kinoshita Yanagi lounged in his chair. He'd been told the whole story by Mrs. Kinoshita yesterday and warned not to say anything, so he just kept shoving lemon candies into his mouth.

"How's Ryoko's mental state after being discharged?" Coach Fujii asked, knowing full well the truth was that treatment had been abandoned, yet still putting on an expectant look.

"Pretty good. Actually better than when she was in the hospital. She even ate a big apple yesterday." As Coach Fujii had hoped, the old man's eyes lit up as he spoke.

"Have you found an apartment in Kanagawa?" Since someone had broken the long silence in the office with a question, everyone started asking.

"Found one, right next to my son's place. Our family can finally live together again."

The old man's movements quickened.

"Alright, no more questions now," Coach Ninomiya declared decisively. "Even if we're not holding a farewell party at the club, at least we're drinking a few cups with you. Say whatever you want then."

Everyone laughed and agreed. They decided to have Grandma Gu Yue keep Ryoko company while they all went to an Izakaya for a couple of hours.

Kinoshita Yanagi hung back from the group of middle-aged men. He planned to stay quiet and slip away, but Coach Ninomiya's glare pinned him in place. "Kinoshita, where do you think you're going?"

In the end, Kinoshita Yanagi had no choice but to go to the Izakaya with this group of men averaging around fifty years old. The old man leaving was named Maeda, the Former Hitting Coach, and the very reason Kinoshita Yanagi had been called back so urgently.

"Kinoshita-kun," Coach Maeda suddenly came over with his drink after a few rounds, eyes a bit hazy, face carrying a rare joy. "Must be tiring coming back from America. Sorry about that. I bet Mrs. Kinoshita went overboard again."

"No, no, Coach Maeda. My contract was up anyway..."

But the drunk in front of him didn't seem to be listening at all. "Time flies so fast. You went from such a little kid to this big. Yesterday I showed Ryoko your picture, and even she was surprised."

Coach Maeda took a sip from his already empty cup, oblivious. "I finished collecting everyone's batting data. It's in that folder. Right, you kept that folder safe, didn't you?"

Kinoshita Yanagi nodded repeatedly before Coach Maeda continued with relief. "But you still need to see for yourself. You young people always think differently from us old folks. Besides, you're a pro. We're really just amateurs, even if I did get my coaching license. America's just different."

The usually stern hitting coach showed a hint of inferiority after drinking. He wasn't like Coach Fujii or Coach Ninomiya, always tinkering with advanced stuff and running training experiments. But him? After all these years of teaching, it was all experience summed up from actual games.

Coach Ninomiya always said not to worry, to stick to his methods. But he always felt he'd wasted his players' talent.

"Kinoshita-kun, for players to have stable footing when they swing, it takes years of practice. More importantly, they need a rock-solid heart. They're just kids. Relying on themselves is completely impossible. So as a coach, you have to be the stable one. Put on a stern face. You can't go wild with them."

Surprisingly, the old man's mind was still clear. Kinoshita Yanagi was about to listen carefully when Coach Maeda launched into a string of reflections on his hitting coach career—kids being too naughty, kids just getting good then leaving in third grade, quitting baseball in high school. Before he could finish, his colleagues on the other side pulled him away for another drink.

Kinoshita Yanagi brushed food crumbs off himself and smoothed his wrinkled collar. Fine, talk all you want, but did you have to keep grabbing my collar? Looked like despite the nice words, there was still plenty of regret inside.

The drinking session ended. Coach Ninomiya was in charge of taking Coach Maeda home. The rest took taxis or the subway.

Kinoshita Yanagi opened the half-read file on his phone. All the current players' batting data was in there. Each player had an analysis of their hitting situation, their current training plan, a short batting video attached, and a list with the kids' photos and personalities. You could see how much care the collector had put in.

Suddenly, he caught sight of a barbershop in his peripheral vision. "Driver, please stop here."

"Having to dye my hair this late, what a pain..." If he didn't get it dyed back today, his mom probably wouldn't let him in the house. What a drag.

On the other side of the city, the two Kōshū brothers were out walking off their meal.

"It's been half an hour. Are you going in or not?" Kōshū's eyes wandered among the bright display cases. Through the gaps in the merchandise, he could see colorful gifts and some girls browsing in pairs.

"Let's go around one more time. I haven't decided what to buy yet," Lang Zhi said hesitantly.

"Hey, is there a girl in there you have a crush on from class?" Kōshū said loudly without restraint.

"There isn't! I just want to shop when there are fewer people. It's more comfortable."

"Tch." Kōshū took the lead and walked off. They circled the central garden twice more before coming back to the gift shop. It was late enough that the clerk at the door looked spaced out. Only then did Lang Zhi go in.

With no one in the store, Lang Zhi relaxed a bit. His frugal mindset kicked in again.

"A bracelet? But Mom is a very plain person. I don't know if she'd like wearing one..."

"A snow globe? Oh, look, it even snows."

Kōshū ignored him, thinking about Shen Qing and Lang Zhi, who had long since made up. He kind of regretted assigning this task back then. In the end, he was the one stuck with the trouble.

"Wow, is this a speaker? So cool. How much?" Lang Zhi checked the price and silently put it back.

Kōshū, using his height advantage, saw the ten thousand yen price tag.

After they'd browsed the whole store, Kōshū started flipping through some weird trinkets too. He hadn't expected a shop usually full of girls to have so many fun things.

"I'll just go buy steak instead." After weighing everything, Lang Zhi figured eating the money was better than buying some tacky accessory.

"Buy that speaker. You looked at it like five times," Kōshū said distractedly.

"Really? You're paying? Didn't think you'd actually act like a big brother from a drama."

"But don't buy the figure. Deduct it from the speaker cost." Kōshū turned and added.

"You're still that bastard Takano. Why do you have to take away my figure fund?"

After a round of bickering, Lang Zhi ended up buying the speaker. Watching his unhappy face, Kōshū thought bitterly, I'm the one paying, letting Lang Zhi buy a gift for Shen Qing, and I get nothing out of it. I'm the one getting screwed here.

But the outcome was good. Shen Qing was very happy and didn't ask where Lang Zhi's money came from. She just smiled and glanced at Kōshū.

The next day, it was back to the monotonous school routine. The classmate who had been injured and sat in front had recovered and returned. Kōshū, who had grown used to being a loner, now had a pendant named Kusakabe attached to him. For some reason, the guy next to him who aspired to be a sports journalist also started tagging along. After a long while, in the eyes of their classmates, they became a fixed group.

But for Kōshū, at school, aside from classes, lunch, and napping, there wasn't much time left. His focus was still on baseball.

That is, as long as nothing unexpected happened to his baseball career—like the current situation. Everyone exchanged bewildered looks, stunned by the news they'd just heard. Coach Maeda had taken an extended leave of absence, and the new batting coach was the blond young man who had shown up yesterday. Of course, he'd already dyed his hair back to black and was now announcing the news with a serious expression.

"I've already reviewed everyone's previous training plans. Since we're in the middle of the tournament period, we'll stick with the usual routines. However, I'll be giving one-on-one guidance targeting your weak points. If anyone has questions related to batting, feel free to ask me."

After the announcement, the First String went into practical practice, while the Second String practiced hitting against the ball net.

Kōshū and Shibasaki ended up together again.

"Why did Coach Maeda take a long leave as soon as Coach Kinoshita arrived? Could it be..."

"And that surname, Kinoshita—is it a coincidence?"

"Let's ask Hayakawa today. He knows all the gossip about this kind of stuff," Kōshū whispered.

But before they knew it, the central figure of their discussion walked over.

"Kōshū, you've got great instincts. Want to try swinging without lifting your foot?" Kōshū was a player Coach Maeda had marked as a priority, so today Kinoshita decided to start with him.

Damn, I only wrote this much in an afternoon. I'm such a snail.