The morning air stung like needles.
Mist clung to the school field as if refusing to let go of sleep. It was too early for even the crows to caw. Yet under the dim blue of pre-sunlight, five figures stood in silence—waiting.
Haruto rolled his shoulder in slow circles, the cool air tightening his muscles. Beside him, Sōta squatted in full catcher stance, his breath fogging the morning chill.
"You didn't have to show up before me," Haruto muttered.
"I have to warm up, too, pitcher boy," Sōta said with a crooked grin. "And someone has to clean this field."
Behind them, Daichi arrived, yawning and carrying a wooden rake. "I think I accidentally brushed my teeth with hair gel."
Reina laughed from the bench. "You look fresh enough to sell shampoo."
One by one, the regulars trickled in—Yuu, Renji, even shy Kento, dragging his glove like a backpack. The team felt small under the vastness of the morning sky.
And then…
Voices.
Not theirs.
---
They turned to the gates. Three figures approached—two boys, one girl. All in mismatched sportswear, none in uniform. One held a metal bat over his shoulder like a warrior's blade. Another bounced a ball on his knee like a soccer trick. The girl had a headband around her forehead, sweat already darkening it.
Reina whispered, "Applicants?"
Haruto stepped forward. "You here for tryouts?"
The tall boy with the bat tilted his head. "That flyer said determination. I've got that. And a fast swing."
The girl bowed quickly. "I was a softball catcher, but I want to try something harder."
The smallest boy stepped up last. His eyes were half-hidden by bangs. "I… I just want to play."
Haruto glanced at Sōta, then nodded. "Then you're welcome here. No rankings. No try-hard speeches. Just effort. Every day."
---
Mr. Inoue arrived without a word, a whistle around his neck and a clipboard in hand. He raised a brow at the newcomers but said nothing else.
"Laps first," he barked. "Ten."
Grumbling, running, silence again.
---
The real test began at the plate.
Sōta crouched, glove open. "You wanna pitch first?" he asked Haruto.
"Let the new ones go first," Haruto replied. "We know what I can do."
The bat-boy—Takeshi—stepped up. His stance was raw but powerful. The metal bat sang when it connected.
Ping!
"Solid." Haruto whistled. "But your footwork's wild. You're lucky that wasn't a pop-up."
Next came the girl—Mina. Her throws were tight, fast. She was a natural catcher. Sōta, watching from the side, muttered, "I like her already."
Then the smallest boy—Jun.
He fumbled the glove at first. Dropped a catch. Missed a grounder.
But he ran.
Every time he failed, he ran to retrieve the ball, faster than anyone else. And he never stopped smiling.
When Reina came to hand him water, he bowed again. "Sorry I'm not good yet."
She tilted her head. "Yet is the keyword."
---
As practice ended, Mr. Inoue gathered them all near the back fence.
"This isn't a team yet," he said. "It's a bunch of kids with dreams and dirt. But… that's where all great teams begin."
He paused.
"Tomorrow we go again. And again. Until we become something worth remembering."
---
After cleanup, as the sun rose higher, Haruto stayed behind with Sōta.
"You think these new guys will fit?" he asked.
Sōta tossed a ball into the air, caught it.
"They already did."
---
End Message:
"It's not always the strongest who make a team—it's the ones who show up before the light finds them."