The rain had finally stopped, but the clouds still clung to the sky like doubts no one could voice aloud.
It was a Tuesday.
Classes had ended early due to a leaky ceiling in the science wing, and while most students ran home to escape the humidity, Reina walked straight into the storm that was their team's equipment shed—or what passed for one.
A rusted tin door. A cracked floor mat. Two gloves with missing fingers, one catcher's mask, and a bat that split slightly every time it hit anything harder than a pillow.
She stood there, hands on hips.
"This... is embarrassing."
---
The Unlikely Mission Begins
By dusk, Reina was knocking on the door of Fushimi's other middle school — the one that merged with theirs last year before dissolving.
A janitor answered, wiping his hands on a rag. "You're from East Fushimi? The ghost team?"
Reina smiled, unfazed. "The miracle team."
The man blinked. Then, without a word, he pointed to the old gym storage room and handed her a key.
Inside, dust hung in the air like suspended memories.
Wooden shelves. Faded posters of forgotten Koshien heroes. And boxes — dozens of them — labeled in ink that had nearly vanished.
She opened one.
Uniforms.
Blue and white. Faded, stained, but intact.
She clutched a jersey with the number 5 still visible and whispered, "Found you."
---
A Journey Through Memory
For the next three days, Reina toured the outskirts of the town.
She cycled through neighborhoods where baseball had once lived — knocking on temples, old rec centers, even the office of a retired local umpire who kept his gear "for the memories."
She came back with:
6 usable gloves
4 cracked bats (Coach Inoue fixed two with resin)
A full set of mismatched jerseys from 3 different schools
An umpire's plate mask
And a scorebook from 1997, still scribbled with dreams
---
Scene: Back on the Field
The team stood in silence as Reina laid the uniforms on the bench one by one.
"Try them on," she said.
Takeshi picked up a jersey with kanji from a school that didn't even exist anymore. "We're gonna look like a scavenger hunt."
Jun smirked. "Yeah. A scavenger team. Let's own it."
Haruto quietly put on a gray pinstripe top with red shoulders. Number 1.
Reina turned to Coach Inoue. "They might not match, but they tell a story."
He nodded. "They tell our story now."
---
Later That Evening
The boys practiced in mismatched uniforms under a fading sunset.
The bats sounded sharper — even if they weren't. The gloves caught a little tighter — even if the laces were old.
Something was changing.
Not in the equipment. But in the way they moved. The way they shouted for pop flies. The way they believed the ball would land in their palms.
Sōta even smiled once.
From behind the fence, an old man with a cane watched them play. The farmer who had once played shortstop for Fushimi South. He leaned on the pole and whispered, "They're bringing it back..."
---
Flashback: Reina's Reason
That night, Reina sat alone in her room, polishing one of the cracked bats with a cloth. She wasn't just doing this for the team.
She remembered her brother's injury. The day he collapsed on the mound. Torn ligament. Never recovered.
There had been no support. No therapist. No one who understood sports injuries outside Tokyo.
That helplessness—that rage—fueled her every clipboard note, every ice pack, every uniform search.
> "If I can make sure one player doesn't go through what he did…"
She looked at Haruto's jersey draped over the chair.
> "…then maybe all this matters."
---
End Scene: A Small Crowd
Two days later, their team held an open practice.
Coach Inoue invited parents, classmates, and curious onlookers to watch their drills.
At first, only a few came. Then more. Someone brought folding chairs. A shopkeeper brought a crate of bottled barley tea.
They practiced with fire. Every catch was met with claps. Every strikeout drew whistles.
Then, a little boy asked his father from the stands, "Who are they?"
The man grinned, proud.
"They're the Miracle Nine."
---
Chapter 28: END