Nishino POV

“Naa-chan! Let’s go home together!” As usual, a perky Ikoma was towering over me as I gathered up my books. 

“Sorry, but I have a Manga Club meeting today. Maybe tomorrow?” I swear I could see a  pair of ears and a tail droop down as Ikoma-chan registered my words.

“Oh, okay,” she muttered, obviously disappointed. I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight; it was pretty cute. I reached over to pat her head, bringing back an embarrassed little grin back to her face.

“Well then, I gotta go! See you tomorrow,” I moved out of the aisle and through the door, waving at Ikoma-chan as I went. I skipped down the hall, excited for today’s meeting. We were supposed to start on our own original manga series today, and I was pretty pumped. I passed by a teacher, frowning at me, so I stopped skipping and tried to conceal my smile, coughing as I went past him. A couple minutes later, I found myself in front of a door decorated by a hand drawn poster featuring a medley of iconic characters from different series. Aside from the poster, nothing differentiated the room from a regular classroom. The only way to really tell was the sign hanging above the door, reading “Manga Club.”

I slid the door open and uttered a greeting to a senior sitting at a table, who was busily cutting up a sheet of paper. Setting my bag down on a chair across from her, I leaned in to see what she was doing. Looks like a lottery of some sort. There were weird phrases on each slip of paper, like “ALIEN INVASION” and “GIRL FALLS ON YOU FROM SKY.” Before I could question the strange set up, the rest of the club members trooped into the room, all carrying a stack of materials.

“Okay people, listen up!” The president of the club set her things down and motioned for us to come closer. “Today we will start on the original manga series. The only requirements are that it has to be written and drawn by you or by your partner, if you are working in pairs. Absolutely no content is allowed, regardless of topic. Is that clear?” The entire room nodded. “One more thing,” she continued. “Topics will be assigned by lottery.” She gestured to the slips of paper, now sitting inside a hat. “This is to test your creative prowess even under limits.”

She proceeded to pass around the hat and materials, ignoring the grumbling of other members. When the hat came around, I reached in and rummaged around before selecting a slip of paper that said “SOFTBALL SPORTS MANGA.” 

Softball…? I knew absolutely zero things about sports in general, let alone softball. Good thing there was a softball team at school. Glancing around, I noticed that most people were heading out, probably to do research. I decided to follow suit and hastily grabbed my bag, moving out of the building.

Once outside, I directed myself to the sports field, listening to the screams and shouts coming from the back of the school. The weather was hot and humid—by the time I reached the softball field I was already sweating buckets.

Seating myself on a nearby bench, I absentmindedly observed the players. A line of girls, all dressed in white and purple softball uniforms, jogged around the diamond field. I took out my phone and snapped a quick picture for reference. Shortly afterwards, the train circled around to the edge of the field closest to me. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out the faces of the players. To my surprise, I recognized two faces, focused and sweaty, both entirely absorbed in running.

In the middle of the procession, a pink-faced Shiraishi Mai trailed behind a short-haired girl, while Wakatsuki Yumi followed after her. So Wakatsuki-senpai is on the softball team. I made a quick mental sketch of both faces, determined to keep the expressions in my head for later use.

The sun beating down on me proved too brutal for me to handle, so I moved into the shade of a nearby tree. From there, I was a little farther from the dugout, but no chain-link fence obstructed my view. 

A middle-aged woman walked onto the field, and all the players gathered around her at once. Noting that, I figured she was the coach. The woman separated the group into two teams, setting them up for a short game. I made a note to google the term for that later. Shiraishi-san and Wakatsuki-senpai were placed on the same team, starting out in the field.

Both teams began to warm up, with the fielding team tossing a ball back and forth while the batting team took practice swings. After roughly ten minutes, the game began. From what I could tell, the match was pretty evenly matched, although Wakatsuki-senpai’s skills were a notch above the rest. For what it mattered, Shiraishi-san wasn’t too lousy either.

The scrimmage (which I had looked up earlier) carried on, and I regularly took photos and jotted down ideas every couple of minutes. Eventually, the short-haired girl from earlier stepped up to the home plate, hoisting a silver bat over her shoulder. 

The atmosphere tensed. All of the players in the field moved back several yards into the outfield. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Shiraishi-san’s muscles were taut with apprehension. Evidently the short-haired girl was a good hitter.

Making use of the occasion, I snatched up my phone and snapped a barrage of pictures. Then I set to drawing an image of the pitcher and the batter. 

It almost happened in slow motion. The pitcher, with sweat trickling down her brow, carefully wound up her arm and released the ball, letting it fly straight towards the batter—

Except it wasn’t. The ball’s trajectory was slightly skewed to the left, and if let continue, would hit the batter. The short-haired girl at bat had noticed as well. Her eyebrows were scrunched, eyes narrowed and focused only on the ball. Waiting until the ball was merely a couple yards away, she took a step back. Then she swung.

Crack! The ball ricocheted off the metal bat, rocketing away at an incredible speed. It would have been a perfect hit, except that the ball was headed straight for me. However, my feet refused to move, and I stayed rooted in place, waiting for the ball to hit me. 

I saw Shiraishi-san turn towards me in horror and leap forward in an attempt to catch it, but there was no way she would make it in time. A flash a white and purple dove in front of me, and a resounding thud rang in my ears.

I cautiously opened my eyes, curious as to why there was no impact. Wakatsuki-senpai was standing in front of me, glove out, with the ball squarely secured in it. It was nothing short of a miracle, but somehow she had moved quick enough to catch the ball.

“Are you alright?” I raised my head in response to her question. The entire team was now forming a circle around us, concerned faces filled my vision. I nodded my head as the coach jogged up to me.

“Can you stand?” She held a hand out to me and I took it, surprised by how firm it was. “Sorry about that. We should have been more careful, right? Etou? Hashimoto?” The batter and pitcher looked sheepishly at me and mumbled apologies. 

“It’s fine,” I responded. “I should have chosen a better place to observe from.” The coach glanced towards me again.

“Observe? Are you from the Manga Club?” Surprised, I nodded. “Again?” The coach grumbled. “They’re always sending people out to research crazy things.” She turned her head to look at me, this time with a softer expression. “Well, since we almost hit you, I guess it’s only right. If you’d like, how about sitting in the dugout? It might be safer than sitting out here.”

“Is that really okay?” 

The coach smiled. “Of course. As long as you’re working on your project, feel free to use the dugout to observe.”

“Thank you very much!” Somehow, my near-death experience had landed me an opportunity I very much appreciated. Bowing to express my gratitude, I dusted off my skirt and slipped my phone inside my pocket, gathering up my materials. I followed after the team, carefully stepping inside the caged area.

“If you need a tour of the dugout or an explanation of something, feel free to ask me.” Without me noticing, Wakatsuki-senpai had snuck up beside me and was now smiling at me brilliantly. I could only nod in response; all the blood rushing up to my face made it hard to breathe.

As I took a seat on the bench, I couldn’t help but notice that only one player looked gloomy. Shiraishi-san was staring unhappily at Wakatsuki-senpai. She turned to look at me briefly before heading back out onto the field.

I frowned. “Strange…”

Shiraishi POV

To say I was unhappy was a little inaccurate. I was frustrated. I had seen the ball hurtling towards Nishino, yet I was unable to do anything. Instead, that Wakatsuki had played the hero and saved her. I mean, it was a good thing that she was safe, but you know…

I wanted to be the one to save her.

I wanted that dazzling smile with eyes full of adoration to be directed at me, not Wakatsuki.

On the first day of school, I had been late. Well, . That only mattered until I stepped into the classroom. But the moment I did, I noticed a girl staring at me. It wasn’t that she was extraordinarily pretty, but there was something enticing about her. Like a silent kind of a beauty. And that made her, well, gorgeous.

Since then, I had been secretly following her with my eyes. When she stepped into the classroom, my eyes were on her. I was hooked, but I never found the courage to go up to her. And considering how shy she was (very), she would never approach me unless it was necessary (which was never).

Until today. I had noticed that she was watching our practice from the sidelines, and secretly ecstatic, I had put all I had into looking cool in front of her. Until Nanamin hit a ball at her and Wakatsuki dove in to save her. 

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I needed to focus. Glaring at the retreating back of Wakatsuki, I cursed whatever girl-charming voodoo she had used to make Nishino look so red.

“Shiraishi, get back on the field!” Coach hollered my name, and I turned and jogged back towards my spot grudgingly.

Hoping to find her gaze directed at me, I took once last glance at Nishino to see who she was watching. 

It wasn’t me.