Same Problems, Different Stories

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The months preceding the winter season were always cool and for the most part, consisted of clear days. It was a good time to be playing sports. In Chiba there were always the huge winter playoffs in baseball, starring the Lotte Marines. Hachiman remembered watching the games in the stadium downtown, in Mihama with his father. Even Komachi, his little sister, would come along. He grew up playing baseball in his elementary days until of course, his period of social detachment pushed him to play tennis instead. After all, you couldn't possibly practice, let alone play a team-game by yourself.

Hachiman eventually discovered what Hiratsuka-sensei had assigned to him: the taxing responsibility of chaperoning an elementary class. The neighboring school from the next district was a part of the sports event that took place annually, and since the stadiums were reserved for professional athletes, they requested to use Soubu High school's spacious campus oval field instead. Still, Hachiman thought, Hiratsuka-sensei had to be trying to spite him as this wasn't something within his expertise. He was well aware that if there was someone who could do the job of coaching a bunch of kids to play baseball, it had to be his riajuu friend.

And so began the career of coach Miura Yumiko. The day began after their classes let out, Soubu received the students from Takasu elementary and Miura willingly led the introductions. Almost instantly, she recognized one girl from the group.

"Hey Hikio, doesn't she look really familiar?" Miura said, pointing to a cute, but rather reserved dark-haired girl. She had deep blue eyes which certainly reminded of a particular ice queen.

Hachiman shrugged. "Beats me. Why do you say so?"

"That's it," Miura snapped her fingers. "I saw her back at the summer camp we were in! Remember? Now I've thought of it, this is kinda like the same class as before." She took his wrists and said, "let's go talk to her."

"Hi, Tsurumi-chan. What's up?" Miura smiled.

The girl, Tsurumi Rumi, stared back. "Do I know you?" She asked, unamused.

"Darn," Miura said wryly. She looked back at Hachiman. "Am I really that easy to forget?"

"Well, I mean..." Hachiman started.

"But I remember Mr. Dead-fish Eyes there," the girl added.

Hachiman snorted, in disbelief. "I see. Yep, it's her, I remember."

"Hikigaya-san… Miura-san… I didn't get to say thanks to you, for being nice to me last summer. So thank you," Tsurumi said shyly.

Miura grinned. "Aww, thank you too, Rumirumi!" She asked, "so, how's you and your friends?"

"Um, well..."

When she didn't seem inclined to answer, Miura understood. "That's okay." She said, "don't worry, this'll be fun. Do you wanna play baseball and make new friends?" She asked. Tsurumi shrugged. Miura giggled. "I'll take that as a yes."

The elementary class was soon lined up and divided into two groups on the field. Hachiman said, "alright Miura. I'll leave it to you here. I'll be on the bleachers watching if you need anything. By the way, do you even know how to play baseball?"

"There's a first time for everything, Hikio," she smirked. Miura didn't mind. She was a pro in tennis, and to her, how different could baseball be? She got all the basics down as she saw it. Even then, when she first started to play tennis she wasn't very good at it. She understood that it took repeated persistence to excel at something. "It's elementary baseball. You're all terrible for the most part, and that's okay. The only way you're going to stink less is by playing," she said aloud to the class in her opening speech.

The game practice took place every Wednesday, and on the weekends. However, since most of the elementary kids were generally obstinate and oftentimes bratty to the core, issues were beginning to pop up. Coupled with the fact that Miura Yumiko wasn't exactly the most patient human being on the planet, it was a tightrope she had to walk on. The kids sucked at the game, she bluntly decided, but she made exceptions. "You're actually pretty good, Tsurumi-chan. You know that. These other kids, it's a goddamned waterworks when I take them out of the game," she said to her one day after practice.

Tsurumi Rumi frowned. "So you mean if I cried… I could play? That's not fair."

Miura sat down next to her on the bleachers. She's smart, Miura thought, pursing her lips. She liked Tsurumi already.

She smiled at her reassuringly. "No. If you cried, I'd still bench you, and then I'd bench you more for crying about not playing an inning in a God-darned baseball game. Girl, life's a bish you've got to watch out for. Capisce?"

"A what?" Tsurumi asked, furrowing her little eyebrows.

Miura laughed. She threw her arm around Tsurumi. "You'll learn that," she said.

Miura had taken a liking towards the little girl since she first saw Tsurumi at the summer camp. She somehow reminded her of a little sister that she never really had. Miura noticed that Tsurumi Rumi wasn't supposed to be a loner without many acquaintances. It wasn't in her nature. Tsurumi dressed nicely, had a pretty appearance, and was very likeable. And she wasn't as unbearably... unbearable as Yukinoshita. Come to think of it, the two were alarmingly alike. Miura didn't want Tsurumi to become like that ice queen she despised.

That was why she decided to try and get Tsurumi to play more innings in each game, even though she wasn't very popular compared to the other students in her team.

"We're losing because of you! Why would you bench the best player? It's stupid!" One of the people in the bleachers yelled out. He was the older brother of one of the kids in the game.

"Best player? I don't know what fucking game he's watching," Miura seethed.

After the game, coach Miura stormed out of the dugout and marched up to the bleachers to confront the guy who had yelled at her a while ago. Her bright green P.E. tracksuit gave her the appeal of one of those ruthless NBA drill masters. "Everyone plays the same amount of innings, that's my rule. This ain't the goddamn World Series, sir. It's a sixth-grade after school game, holy shit. Our right-fielder picks his butt all game, and he gets that rule. Why don't you?" She shot back adamantly, her green eyes blazing.

The guy sank back into his seat, still grumbling but effectively silenced. This incident made Miura Yumiko seem more scary and intimidating to the grade-schoolers afterwards. "Oi, Miura-san. Don't frighten the kids like that," Hachiman told her with an amused look.

"Well, it's like you said to me once, 'you want something done, you do it yourself'," she said confidently.

Tsurumi Rumi's classmates on the other hand had different opinions. One of the girls she knew came up to her one afternoon in the middle of the practice to finally complain.

"My nee-chan thinks your nee-chan is rude."

Tsurumi Rumi initially didn't know how to react, but she felt defensive. "No she's not. You're wrong, Nami-chan… Miura-san isn't- " a baseball bumped off of her arm before she finished her sentence, making her jump.

"Pay attention, Rumirumi! Don't stand there with your thumb up your bum!" Miura called out from across the field. Tsurumi turned red. Miura really wasn't helping her in her case defense.

The dissatisfaction amongst both teams soon became almost mutual, and the pressure for a rebellion against their ruthless dictator condensed. Miura had a well-defined routine when it came to personal fitness and sports. She always started her day by jogging at six o' clock, running a mile around her block before going home for a shower and heading off to school. It was a part of her competitive play in tennis as well. She figured it applied just as well in baseball. She started making the teams run several laps around the oval field of Soubu. But one day, one of the boys in Tsurumi's team stood up, and he had another belief in mind.

"This is dumb. Baseball isn't about running. Any real coach would know that!" The boy shouted.

The effect was almost cinematic. Miura, shocked, slowly turned her head around to find out who had said it. She had the same expression as Edward Norton at the end of Fight Club when he realized he was hallucinating the whole time. At first, Miura puffed her cheeks, insulted, then she slowly changed color, building up a slow anger. Hachiman had been sitting with her friends, Kawasaki, Tobe and the rest when he saw the red flags. He hurriedly made his way down the bleachers to defuse a ticking bomb, but he was too slow.

"Coach your own team then, you punk, and kiss my ass goodbye!" Miura blew up, making all the kids around her flinch. Her voice shifted into a shallower, rougher tone that she hadn't used since her chaotic middle school days. The boy who had been so bold only moments ago now looked panicked. It was then that her coaching career ended. She whirled around to Hachiman, who had just caught up. "It's all yours, Hikio! Have fun!" She said before marching off.

"Oi, where are you going? Miura!" Hachiman called, only to be ignored.

Coach no. 2 wasn't exactly a reliable substitution in case of an emergency, and besides that was almost the last game of the day. The class eventually dismissed, to return another day - and hopefully with a less aggressive person to coach them. Tsurumi Rumi didn't really know what to do after that, so Hachiman simply accompanied her in a cab back to her house a few minutes away. He then went to search for his friend.

Hachiman found her close to the bayside, leaning against the railings of an overpass. She'd gotten this far by walking off in one direction: straight forward, down the road from whence she came. She glanced at him, her eyes widening a bit, and sighed.

"Shiiit… I dug me a real hole and kicked you into it, didn't I?" Miura smiled guiltily. Hachiman deadpanned a look. "Sorry about that. Also, I'm not coaching that fucking team no more."

Hachiman shoved his hands into his tracksuit's pockets. He walked up right beside her. "That wasn't very nice of you," he said.

"Ha!" Miura chuckled dryly. "So the nicest guy of Soubu has spoken," she said.

Miura's tracksuit was now disheveled. Her jacket was unzipped halfway, revealing a tight tank-top that she only wore during P.E. days. Her chest and her face were rather… let's just say she really sweated herself out, Hachiman noted. Miura had tied her hair up in a messy bun, golden strands hanging over her forehead. She looked like a delinquent, her sharp look menacing, and strangely Hachiman didn't find it surprising. She seemed so natural.

"I really like that kid, Rumirumi, y'know?" She said, "She doesn't deserve to be singled out from her peers like that. She's a nice kid."

"They're all nice kids, Miura. You can't give them all happiness or whatnot, whatever you think it is."

"You don't get it, do you?!" Miura snapped. She looked away. "I know how she feels. I was in the same position back then. You know, back then every other girl in my class liked me, and they also hated me. Funny, isn't it? I used to pick on my other classmates, pushing them around, bullying them. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing, I just thought it was… the thing. And then soon I was the one getting bullied. I realized it's a cycle - give and take. It changed me. I'm far from it now, but I decided if that was how shit worked, I'm not going to be on the receiving end. Never again." She sighed, her head drooping low. She had a pebble in her fingers which she threw down onto the road beneath them.

"I- I'm sorry. I guess I thought I could help Rumi-chan." She stared at Hachiman with a slight frown on her saddened face. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"It makes you presumptuous," Hachiman finally replied, "but you have a nice sentiment."

"You didn't answer my question."

"OK. You're not that bad. Otherwise, maybe you could get yourself run over by a car, if you really want to repent for it," he said.

A look of surprise and fright shot over her face. "Ano… you were bullied before, right? I know," she said.

"Yeah. Punks like you are a pain in the arse to deal with," Hachiman smirked at her. Miura gritted her teeth, looking the other way. "Anyway, you- I mean we still have a team to lead, coach. You should dry yourself Miura. Might get a cold. You sweat like a pig." He took his handkerchief and stuck it to her chest. She blushed angrily and seized the cloth begrudgingly.

The next day, Hachiman invited Tsurumi to practice before lunch. As it was a Sunday, her entire class decided to get off from playing today. It was an opportunity to practice in peace with the entire field all to themselves. Miura would meet them at Soubu, and then they'd have lunch together. Hachiman and Tsurumi briefly stopped along the street on the way to the school.

"Where are we going? The field's the other way," she said behind him.

Hachiman said, "we're picking up my sister, Komachi. She's gonna play with us."

"Why?"

"She happens to be a pitcher for her school's baseball team. I don't know why I haven't thought of asking her in the first place, she's a better player than I am." Hachiman smiled at the thought.

The four of them got together and practiced for a while. Komachi loved everything about the school, and was planning to take an exam to Soubu next year. She taught Tsurumi Rumi everything she knew about baseball. Komachi was a good player because she loved to play, but she noticed it was different for Tsurumi. She wasn't particularly keen on the game, but she was indeed better than most kids her age. It meant something.

Miura was still sharpening her strikes. It took a while for her to get used to using a bat for receiving a ball. Hachiman was pitching to her, as well as having to watch out for approaching projectiles and the 'pop flies' she often makes. "Hikio, put some energy in your pitches! You throw a baseball like you're a woman playing darts!" Miura shouted.

"Hey, stop laughing! Komachi!" He complained. His sister and Tsurumi Rumi were on the bleachers, giggling as they watched the two.

The week finally came when the elementary school entered the playoffs against another neighboring school in Mihama, with Soubu acting as the host for the games. The cold weather was just beginning to set in, and it was a clear day. It seemed like it was a good start. Miura and Hachiman watched the game play out in the front row, together with Miura's friends.

Tsurumi Rumi was pitching for her team. Their play wasn't stellar by all means, but Tsurumi managed to keep the game close throughout. A win was almost certain for them. Miura judged their position and decided to bench one of their players, as the girl was already tired. However just as the fourth inning had started, one of the guys watching in the bleachers stood up and started yelling. "She can't throw strikes, just take the pitches! She's gonna blow the game!" He shouted.

This began to seriously affect Tsurumi, who grew confused. The guy continued shouting, demoralizing their team. Everyone was looking at him, but nobody did anything. Her throw started to get worse and worse, until Tsurumi was tearing up and barely hurling the baseball more than a couple of yards. She stooped down and began to cry.

Her team lost. Hachiman was not surprised, but he was dismayed. This wasn't some circumstance where the pitcher loses confidence in herself and begins to doubt her capability, throwing the game for a while, but soon realizing that she had friends and family who cared and believed in her, and at that moment clutches the game with a win, finally showing that she succeeded. It wasn't. He was too much of a cynic - rather, a realist to believe that. But he did feel sorry for Tsurumi Rumi, if only for a bit.

Miura was burning with indignation. She was about to fly into a rage, but hesitated. Hachiman held her back with an arm, as he stood up and walked off the bleachers. He left Miura and her friends, his face drawn with a silent kind of displeasure.

"Hikitani-kun! Where are you going?"

"Hikio, wait!" Miura said.

Hachiman approached Tsurumi Rumi. She was wiping away the tears on her reddened eyes. He knelt down before her, pausing before he gently smiled at her. He gave a sort of rough pat to her head. "Wait here. Rumi-chan. I'll accompany you home. But I need to take care of something first."

Hachiman got up and walked. He made his way to the parking lot around the front of the campus. He didn't think his friends would follow him. He was gone for a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Tsurumi couldn't wait, and decided to follow where he went.

She followed him into the parking lot. Her other classmates all had their parents doting and kissing them, congratulating them whether they won or lost, as their families got into their cars to celebrate downtown, in a restaurant or… whatever families did. She felt her heart ache a bit. She looked for the dead-fish eyed student who had helped him up until now. After glancing around she spotted the blue of his overcoat.

Hachiman was in front of another guy, much taller and scarier looking than him, and she saw her classmate behind the guy. As Tsurumi approached them, she saw Hachiman and her classmate's older brother talking heatedly. "It's part of the game, dude," the guy said.

"Bullshit." Hachiman replied seriously.

"Watch yourself, kid," the guy replied in a hard voice.

"The girl's dad's a drunk, her family's a real mess, and you know that. And you're sitting out there, screaming at her, trying to rattle her like this is the goddamned Lotte-Seibu playoffs so your sister can win an elementary baseball game? You're an elder sibling, for fuck's sake. What in the hell is wrong with you?"

The two seemed to speak with each other for a few more moments. Then the guy suddenly shoved Hachiman before walking away with his sister. Hachiman didn't react. He was silent. He turned around and went back, his eyes emotionless if not dark as usual. A slight frown could be noticed on his brows.

Hachiman saw Tsurumi and didn't smile at her anymore. She stayed quiet as he walked her out to the street. When they got into a cab home, she decided to say something.

"I don't like Nami-chan's big brother too, Hikigaya-san. He's lame, and so is Nami-chan, and they think they're good at stuff, but they only think they're good at stuff because they're fancy and popular at school," Tsurumi mumbled.

Hachiman was silent, as the cab continued to drive down Kaihin Koen-dori avenue. He sighed and glanced at Tsurumi, unamused. However, a slight smile was now seen on his lips. "Rumirumi, I didn't understand what the fu… heck, you just said. Next time try not to let people get to you. You already know they're all assholes, but it's not the size of the asshole you've got to watch out for. It's how much shit comes out of it. You'll learn that," he said, giving his advice to her as if it were his prized possession.

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A.N.: today seems like a good day.. next chapter might focus on Kawasaki Saki. I'm sorry it took this long to publish another chapter. Hope you readers enjoyed!