Considering the Future So Early

The bottom of the first inning ended quickly with the opposing team failing to score a single run against Seido High School, leaving the score at 4–0.

Such a huge gap had opened up in the very first inning, and the pressure gradually shifted onto the public high school. Luck and skill had carried them through the tournament, and even the Victory Flag—something they had never dared to imagine before—had occasionally come up in conversation.

Maybe we can win it all this time.

Maybe after the powerhouses wear each other out, we can swoop in and pick up the prize?

But just as their march toward the finals was about to begin, Seido struck them head-on.

"Hasn't Seido gone several years without a championship?"

"Damn it, a powerhouse is still a powerhouse."

The players' unwillingness gradually turned into an atmosphere of despair in the Dugout. The confidence they had painstakingly built through victory transformed into a realistic understanding—or doubt—of their own strength.

At the top of the second inning, the public school's ace stood on the Pitcher's Mound. Looking at Seido's ace pitcher in the Batter's Box, he did not feel relaxed at all despite him being the ninth batter. Even if he struck out the ninth batter, Seido's top lineup would be up again afterward. Their hot-knife-through-butter offense in the previous inning was still stuck in his throat.

It's only the second inning. Why am I already so tired?

With that feeling weighing on him, he followed the catcher's Signals and threw low and inside to the ninth batter. But his foul mood affected his control, and the pitch went from low and inside to high and outside.

Seido's ninth batter, Nakama, did not let that pitch go. The ball passed between second and third, and although the public school's shortstop threw himself at it, he could only watch it fly past his eyes.

"Whoa—" The players in the Seido Cheering Section banged the things in their hands, celebrating this senior who rarely managed to get a hit.

"Wow, that's unusual. Nakama, known as Seido's batting black hole, actually kept the lineup going this time." A chubby middle-aged man beside them scratched his head and spoke to his companion in surprise.

"Yeah, but I'd originally hoped this public school would put on a different kind of performance. What a letdown. Public schools are public schools, private schools are private schools. Their strength just can't compare," his companion replied.

High school baseball games happened every year, but the script was more or less always the same. The teams that ultimately reached the finals were usually the same few baseball powerhouses. Unless they were OB members or supporters of those baseball powerhouses, ordinary spectators generally did not have high expectations for these same-old games.

The chubby man and his companion had not come to watch a game in person for two years. They had only watched broadcasts. They had come today because they had heard that a public school had fought its way through the tournament and seemed poised to knock those private schools flat on their backs.

"Sure enough, you can't trust those magazines and newspapers," they concluded in the end.

As Kōshū watched Seido's batting lineup link together and fill the bases again in no time, he also half-listened to the spectators' discussions.

I thought everyone in Japan was a die-hard baseball fan. Turns out they get tired of it too.

Kōshū rested his elbows on his knees, his mind wandering.

Still, after watching such a straightforward game, public schools really can't compete with private schools when it comes to baseball. The issue of future plans that Mr. Sasaki and Shen Qing had just brought up became a genuine question for Kōshū as well. So should I keep playing baseball in high school? Is it worth going to a baseball powerhouse just to play baseball? And what happens after going to one? When it comes to college, are there Sports Universities and Baseball Departments, like China's sports universities?

Only then did Kōshū realize that since coming to Japan, he had barely thought about what path he wanted to take in life. He had basically just been pushed along by the people around him.

I wasn't like this before, he argued weakly with himself. Back in China, he trained in sprinting because he wanted to use his status as an athletic student to get into the best high school. Then he would study hard in high school. If his grades were good enough, he would take the regular student route; if they were not, he could apply to a Sports University and become a coach or PE teacher afterward.

What about now? He could see all kinds of professional baseball players thriving on television, with very high annual salaries, but could he really take that path? Once anything became professional, he could no longer rely solely on interest or being pushed forward by others. Professional competition was brutally cruel. He had to think it through carefully.

And... his gaze passed over Lang Zhi and landed on Shen Qing. What does Mom actually think about my future? After coming to Japan, he had voluntarily handed over his bank card. His mother had not refused it, but after doing something with the remaining money, she had returned the card to Kōshū. With that money alone, combined with Kōshū's lack of any strong desire to shop, he could basically live a life without ever worrying about food or clothes.

Ah, so it really is money corrupting me. It had not only stopped him from worrying about the future—it had also made him less desperate to get ahead.

"Whoa—" Another wave of cheers erupted from the stands. Kōshū snapped out of his daze and saw Seido High School's runners on base desperately charging toward home plate. The ball had been hit deep into left field, and by the time the shortstop received the relay throw, Seido High School's score had jumped from four to seven.

"What happened?" Kōshū muttered. Then he saw that the first baseman was still that high-schooler built like a powerhouse. The scoreboard showed one out, and the lineup had reached the fifth batter.

"That was fast—" Kōshū sighed. Then Lang Zhi, who had been watching him the whole time, suddenly spoke. "Takano, want to go to the bathroom?"

Kōshū casually wandered down with him. Lang Zhi was unusually slow today. Kōshū waited at the bathroom entrance, listening to the sounds of the game coming from overhead and guessing at the current score. He leaned against the wall and felt the vibrations running through it. Wow, these adults are really fired up. And it's a rare weekend, too.

Water began running at the sink behind him. Kōshū straightened up again, then heard Lang Zhi's voice echo through the empty bathroom. "Hey, what do you think?"

When they were alone, this guy did not even call him by name. He just called him "hey." But Kōshū was already used to it.

"What do you mean, what do I think?"

"What Dad said. About considering your future plans. Which high school are you going to?"

"I'm fine with anything. If they want me to go to Seido, that works too." Kōshū sounded somewhat careless, as if he could go there just by saying so.

"What do you mean, 'that works too'? You should think more carefully about this." Lang Zhi spoke solemnly as he dried his hands and walked back beside Kōshū.

"Why are you specifically asking me this?" Kōshū did not think Lang Zhi was the kind of person who would care about him.

Another burst of noise came from outside, interrupting Kōshū's urge to get to the bottom of things. "Did they score again? Seido really isn't holding back today."

"Because... if you go to Seido, then I'll have to go too, won't I?" The noisy background gave Lang Zhi a bit of courage. He did not know whether he wanted Kōshū to hear him or not.

"Huh?" Kōshū caught the key words, then lowered his head to look at the shorter boy with an indescribable expression. "When did you become so obsessed with your brother? Weren't you obsessed with Mom before?"

Kōshū's baffling words successfully enraged Lang Zhi. He suppressed his resentment and tried to act composed, but his flushed face gave him away completely. "What I'm saying is, you need to think carefully about your future plans. They'll definitely ask you when the time comes. Don't agree to everything without thinking, because then Dad will definitely make me go with you. Wouldn't that put all the pressure on me?"

Although both of them were children brought into the family through remarriage, Lang Zhi had always felt a step below Kōshū. So whenever he thought about things, he inevitably had to think from a subordinate position. Lang Zhi was unwilling to accept that too, but that was simply how things were. The adults felt that Kōshū could speak to them more as an equal, while he himself was just an immature child.

"Oh—how rare. That actually makes a lot of sense." It seemed that even Lang Zhi, whose mind usually only ran in one direction, had been seriously thinking about his own life.

Kōshū nodded. Remembering how Lang Zhi had just dragged him along and told him not to throw a tantrum during a family outing, he added, "Lang Zhi, you're really different today. You've actually said sensible things one after another..."

Before Kōshū could finish, the low-centered Lang Zhi successfully ambushed him with a kick to the butt. Kōshū stumbled forward several steps, and when he looked up, that brat had already run far away.

"You little bastard, did you forget where my bedroom door is?" Hearing Kōshū's roar, Lang Zhi's full bar of anger instantly turned into a full bar of panic. He ran even faster than before. Was he going to make it to his room alive today?

Thus, Shen Qing sat in her seat and heard Lang Zhi's panicked cry of "Mom—" from afar. Then he came charging over like a cannonball, with her biological son following right behind him, his face stern whenever he put it on.

"Lang Zhi, what's wrong?" Lang Zhi buried his head against Shen Qing's shoulder and shook his head without saying anything. Shen Qing then looked at her own son again. "Takano?"

That questioning tone made Kōshū realize that, at least for now, he could not deal with this guy today. He could only catch his breath and say, "Nothing. We're playing tag."

Then he forcibly "peeled" Lang Zhi off her, wrapped an arm warmly around his shoulders, and said, "Lang Zhi, you're all sweaty from running around. Don't cling to Mom. Come over to your brother instead."

Lang Zhi went silent as a cicada in winter. He did not dare struggle free from his stepbrother's threatening hold. All the courage that had surged into his heart earlier abandoned Lang Zhi and fled.

I must have been possessed just now. What did I do?? He's definitely going to get revenge!! Lang Zhi roared inwardly.

Once they got home, the whole atmosphere instantly turned health-conscious.

Not one bite of food was allowed to be skipped, and not one extra pound was allowed to be gained.

By the way, are your parents like this too? If you skipped dinner or ate a little less at lunch, at best they would say, "Is the food I made today not good?" At worst, "You kids just love dieting. I'm telling you, dieting is bad," and then on and on.

But when it came to weight, they would say, "You gained weight since coming back. Have you been ordering takeout every day?" Or, "You still need to exercise after work. Look at how many people suddenly die from overwork. And you can lose a couple pounds while you're at it."

God, the only reason I gain weight is because my parents keep stuffing me with food. I can lose weight when I'm away from home, but gain two pounds the moment I come back.

Of course, the final health-preserving two-piece set was soaking your feet plus moxibustion. They would not let you get up until you sweated from the heat, and if you asked why, the answer was, "We need to force the dampness out." Last time, when it had not even been this cold yet, they even put another blanket over me when I got up to use the bathroom at night. Me, waking up overheated in the middle of the night: ?? What kind of grudge is this??