MaruMA:Doujinshi3:Story5

Crime and Punishment

By Takabayashi Tomo

Yeah, I know, it's Dostoevsky, right? But I've never read that book. The words just popped into my head, I didn't even have to think about them. What sort of punishment would I receive for committing a particular crime? Who did I hurt? For whom would my heart get hurt for? ■

Why is it that the happiness that was once ahead, turns into heartache and makes us cry?

It was still light outside that summer evening. The sun hadn't even began to turn orange.

"So why do you watch the "Road to Koshien" every year? Isn't it hard to watch? I mean, you end up seeing high-school baseball players in this 'Fierce Koshien Battle' break down in tears."

"Who knows....? Ah, no, no. Why are you asking me this, when I'm the one who is being dragged all the way to the Dome? Seibukyujomae station and Korakuen station are as far away as Shibuya is, but the people you see there are completely different."

"Keep saying that, keep saying that. In the meantime, you're getting used to chasing after the white ball, whether your awake or asleep."

On a Friday, right at the end of July, after spending an hour playing baseball, Murata and I hurried up to try and get tickets. The plastic bag carrying the water bottle I had bought was hanging low. I really couldn't say at the time if it was cold or not. Just knowing that I had some water to drink during the game was enough.

"Ah crap. Bad TIMING. All the trains are express."

"Really? How many minutes do we have to wait? More than 10? If so, I think I'll go to the bookstore for a bit."

"Fine four-eyes, then I'll wait for you here. If we're late, we'll end up getting bad seats. We'll have to crouch so that the ushers don't see us getting closer."

As I was looking for a bit at Murata's back as he left, I pulled out my PASSNET card with the picture of the Seibu Dome. A train that ran till the terminal stopped, and spat out the alighting passengers on the platform. From behind the white line, I could see four-eyes walking slowly towards the door.

"Oh? Harajuku senpai?"

"I'm not Harajuku Fuuri, okay!?"

I answered reflexively when I heard a familiar voice and turned around quickly.

Were my ears playing tricks on me?

I stopped looking when I saw a familiar face in the crowd leaving the train. His SURFER arms showed tan lines, and the lack of eyelid lines and short eyelashes gave him evil-looking narrow eyes.

It was my kouhai, who was five centimeters taller than I am, and a pitcher 5 times more relied on to win a game than I ever was.

"..... Massimo?"

"You're yelling at me, but then you call me by my nickname?"

Even though it is absolutely necessary for high-school baseball players to keep their hair short, in order to endure the daily sweating sessions, it seems that he hadn't been playing during the summer, and his hair had started to grow and looked uneven.

Matsushita, the regular catcher during my third year of middle school, approached.

"So it is you, Shibuya-san. Long time no see."

Since I had to get an 'early retirement', for him to treat me as a senpai brings back bad memories, rather than feeling good. But he doesn't care. He's always been that kind of guy.

"The state tournament.... it was close."

"Yeah, we were close. Komiya kept pitching and pitching, hitting and hitting, and he was able to retire with good enough results. To be honest I was quite relieved. Ah, do you remember Komiya?"

"Of course I do. I was in the club till the first half of the third year, so I remember everyone who was in first and second year."

He was the pitcher that once told me, his senpai, straight to my face "since your arms can't reach very far, it's difficult to throw when you're catching". At that time, only one person could stop him, but by the third year he had grown to become an ACE.

"No matter how hard I tried, even with my level, I couldn't get a baseball recommendation to get into high-school, you know? So even though I thought I would finally have some free time, I had to sign up for summer classes."

"Ah, you're talking about cram school. It's hard having to take the admission tests, huh? I picked a school where I didn't need to work too hard to get in though."

Matsushita crossed his arms before his chest, and smiled maturely. As a middle-school student, he was incredibly blessed to have a body built as his. He'd certainly enter a high-school baseball club, as his name must have been heard during the state preliminaries.

"Although, if Shibuya-san would have been on the bench, we might had advanced to the next stage."

"What? What do you mean by that?"

"It's just that, Shibuya-san is a legend among the people in the club. If a heroe is there, sitting among the players, the morale goes up, right?"

What does he mean by that?

Is he talking about the time I hit the provisional coach and had to write my resignation? For a moment, I thought I was being made fun of, but there was no malice in my kouhai's narrow eyes .

"Every generation of girl managers tell the legend. Well, saying 'every generation' may be a bit too much, this is only the second generation."

"Don't be dumb. It was only a year ago, right?"

"Even so, to intervene on behalf of a kouhai and punch the coach, as if it was a reflex that you couldn't stop...."

"Are you saying I'm stupid?"

I smiled while saying that, desperately trying to sound calm, but if I could have, I would have wanted to cover both my ears and run away right there.

I gave up, there was nothing I could do. Because it was me and only me, who did that. So whenever I see the guys I knew back then, no matter how many years pass, no matter how many times the story gets told, they'll bring up the topic again and again. They'll talk about it even if I'm not in the room. That one mistake will haunt me for the rest of my life. Someone will probably joke about it in a speech at my wedding.

Even so. Even though I looked like I was joking on the outside, the truth is that being told that straight to my face was very painful. Stronger than the pain I felt in my chest, was the painful burning sensation in the knuckles that I used back then.

"Ah, right. Did you hear about Ishino?"

"Ishino? What about him? "

That's the kouhai that was verbally abused by the coach right before the problem with the punch began.

He was a short, plain looking outfielder, but he was quick on his feet and could read the movement of the ball very well. That's why he could make quick decisions and reach the area where the ball would fall. I always thought that if he could increase his strength and throw harder, he could become a good center fielder.

"He quit in April this year."

"What!?"

"Judging by your expression, it seems you hadn't heard"

"Why!? Why did Ishino quit the club!? He was fast, and he had a good shoulder. Even if he wasn't good at hitting, he would have been able to master it with his discipline and sense of direction."

"Wai~, Shibuya-san, don't get angry at me. I don't know why he quit either."

"Ah... Ahhh.... sorry"

I let go of Matsushita's arm, which I had grabbed unconsciously, in the exaggerated fashion a pro wrestler would when told to by a referee.

"I heard something from my kouhais, and it seems it has nothing to do with injuries or illnesses. I also haven't heard anything about him changing schools. But someone.... just one person, I can't remember who, apparently made his life miserable during practice. Whenever the two were together he kept saying, over and over 'What's wrong with ya!?? What's the point of Shibuya-san getting kicked out over someone who can't even put up with something like this without crying!?' "

".... He used my name?"

"Yeah. It seems that every time Ishino got tired of running or during basic practice, he'd say 'And Shibuya stood up for you for this!?' , and Ishino would always answer'Yeah, you're right' and he'd start working hard again and that's probably how the legend of Shibuya-san's power started. But, since he was in a situation where he was treated as a damsel in distress, being saved by prince charming, rumors started that he liked to cross-dress."

The hand that had been throbbing all along, was now trembling, going from hot to cold. Sweat slid down my palm, and the sweat that ran down my back had started to lower my body temperature quickly.

"It sounds as if it was all my fault, say..."

I played with the bag's straps while speaking lightly. The droplets that covered the water bottle, stuck to the white plastic. For some reason the 500ml water bottle suddenly became heavy and difficult to hold on to.

"I can't believe Ishino had to quit...."

It's heavy.

"But since his senpai was forced to quit, I guess this situation with Ishino couldn't be helped. You couldn't join a club in high-school, right? Like, a baseball club I mean."

"Well... yeah."

"So, in our case, no matter how hard we try, I don't think we'll ever be able to go to the Koshien. I guess it's fine then. We'll just take it slow. And since I don't have anything better to do, I'll join a club when I enter high-school, but I don't think I'm particularly talented."

"If you say that about yourself, who was picked as a regular before me, what can you say about me?"

Matsushita showed his teeth slightly as he smiled and tapped my right shoulder.

"Shibuya-san, c'mon! You're a legend."

Since my kouhai wouldn't step back, as soon as he finished talking, I raised my hand and ran away. His words echoed in my ears and went round and round in my brain.

"Shibuya!"

My pores reacted immediately when I was pulled strongly by a cold hand. Right before my eyes the doors closed and the local train started to move.

"..... Oh...."

"Don't say 'oh'! What were you doing!? What if we'd had missed this train?"

Trapped in between bags of books, Murata Ken's fingers were grabbing tightly onto me. Even if he would had let go immediately, I'm sure it would have left a mark nonetheless.

"Who were you talking to? A friend from high school?"

"No.... Massimo is, probably, my kouhai"

"What do you mean by 'probably'? You're weird. Anyways, let's sit down."

On the seat by the handrail, I calmed down, almost collapsing onto the seat. Even though on the other side of the closed windows, the evening summer wind blew slowly, seasons and time seemed to stop inside the isolated train car, where the rotating fans were working at full speed.

"Say, Murata."

"Mh?"

"Why is it that the "Road to Koshien" is so incredibly painful to watch? Why is it that the happiness that was once ahead, turns into heartache and makes us cry?

"Well, I mean, the players in the 'Fierce Koshien Battle' end up crying so much, right?"

"I don't know why (people cry watching it)"

Murata held the Disney guidebook open as he replied monotonously without looking my way.

"Maybe it's because it's similar to our own pain."

I wanted to cry. Even though my arm was still being grabbed onto.

Crime and Punishment ■

WC or NPB 2002.08.09 TAKABAYASHI R・FREE

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