Chapter 5 - When It Was All Bad News
"I'll come to visit you no matter what. It might be the next month, or in 2 years or 10 years, or even in 30 years from now." Kazuya chuckled while I continued, "Don't ever forget me, okay, Kaz?" "Yan, you're being dramatic. You'll be back here in no time." I stared at Kazuya. I wasn't trying to fight back my tears anymore. I was openly crying in front of him.
I was about to leave for the airport in a couple of minutes. I've spent every second I could for the whole month with Kazuya. I've learned to throw a decent curveball, but it still needed a lot more practice.
"Stop crying, Yan." I nodded as I used the end of my sleeves to wipe my tears. As I calmed myself down, my eyes were swollen from crying all night, and my nose was still sniffling. I crouched down on the ground to rummage through my bag. "Since I'm gonna miss your birthday and Christmas, here." I handed Kazuya a gift. He was surprised, not expecting it at all. "I thought you said you might visit me next month." He told me with a smirk before hesitantly taking the gift. He opened it in front of me, and it was a black beanie. Kazuya looked at me, confused. "It might be too big on you right now, but in the future, when it fits you, that's when you know I'll be back in no time." I mumbled at the end, "If you ever miss me, you could wear it too." I ended my explanation a little flustered.
Kazuya ended up laughing and wore the beanie on his head. It was indeed too big on him. I chuckled at his appearance. The only thing stopping the beanie from overtaking his face was his glasses.
"Only you could make this funny, Yan." He said, amused as he tried to fix the beanie. "Here, catch." With little to no time to prepare, he threw something up in the air for me to catch. I caught it, realizing it was a baseball. Kazuya turned his head, avoiding my questioning gaze. "This was the first ball we played with, 3 years ago." My eyes widened. "What? How? I thought we lost it on the field last year." "Well, I went back after we went home, and I found it." I marvelled, looking at the ball, Kazuya wrote our names on it, 'Kaz and Yan.' I loved it since it was something to remember our friendship by. "I'm gonna miss you, Kaz." My voice hitched in the middle of the sentence.
"Yan, I'm not into guys."
"-not into guys." I joined in our joke one last time.
We both shared a pained smile. "Yanagi! We have to leave now!" My dad yelled all the way from our house. "Don't miss me too much, shorty," I smirked before heading to my house, where the car was waiting for me. A couple steps after walking away, "Then I'll be waiting for you." I heard Kazuya mumble loud enough. It was getting harder to leave. I instantly turned around, seeing Kazuya frown. I tackled him into a bear hug, he struggled to get out of it. He finally accepted defeat and placed a hand on my back, reciprocating the hug. I let go and hover my hand a foot over his head, "At least grow this tall when I come back." "Shut up. I'll see you later, Yanagi." I pulled the beanie over his face so it wouldn't be so hard anymore, "See you later, Kazuya." I said before I took off.
I look back again at him, watching him wave. I waved goodbye to him with the ball in my hand.
"I never got to tell you anything, huh?" I said out loud as I entered the car. I still never told him about being a girl or my first name. I had it all planned when I would be in the same school as him. Though having a month left, I prioritized spending as much time as I could with Kazuya. I didn't wanna leave things to be in bad taste between us.
I looked outside the window, watching the houses pass by. As each building passes by, my heart begins to feel heavy, and my guts started to twist harder and harder. Regret instantly took over me, 'I'm such a bad friend.' I thought to myself. 'Why didn't I tell him all these years? What sort of friend am I?' I started to question myself. 'How could I just leave him alone? That loser doesn't even have any other friends.' I began to cry softly at the back of the car, my dad noticed from the rear-view mirror. "Are you okay, Mari?" I shook my head vigorously. "No!" I could only mutter before I started bawling my eyes out.
"I'm a horrible person, dad," I said in between sobs. "You're not, honey." My dad couldn't say much because he was driving. "I am! I never told Kaz anything about me! I was lying to him! I'm a liar!" I only realized now how much I've taken Kazuya for granted. "Mari, this was all because of my mistake, remember?" "That doesn't matter. I should've told him when you told me to." "I know Mari, but at least you left things on a positive note." Talking to my dad about this didn't help me out at all. It just hits me now how important Kazuya is to me. I began to think about how our daily life together will stop, how everything is going to change, and that everything was going to be different.
'I'm sorry, Kaz. I hope you can forgive me one day.'
Timeskip - 2 years later (13 years old)
'I wished we only visited.' I thought as I headed outside my house. Ever since we returned to America, all my parents did was fight. It started right away when we arrived two years ago. After seeing my appearance, she attacked my dad for raising me 'poorly.' She hated how I apparently looked like a boy.
To stop their bickering, I decided to grow my hair out and acted more feminine for her. It dialled down for a while until she came home earlier from work. She spotted my dad and me practicing in the backyard playing catch. She started to nitpick on how I shouldn't be playing baseball because it wasn't doesn't look nice for a girl's hands to be so rough. It turned from a day of judgment to years. I was often told, "You should be focusing on your studies.", "You shouldn't play a sport you have no future in.", "Look at yourself! You don't even look like a girl.", "Your brother was much more successful at your age." All her scolding pierced me like a sharp knife. My dad would sometimes overhear portions of it, which always leads him to argue with her.
My mom had clearly expressed her regret for leaving me to my dad for three years. She wanted a girl to raise, a feminine girl. For two years, I felt nothing but disappointment from her. I've tried my hardest to gain her approval but giving up baseball was never going to be on the table for her.
I went out to the backyard to practice. Even with all the complaints, my mom had fully equipped the backyard with baseball equipment. I smiled at myself. Her mindset for loving me was tough love. It's just that I wasn't used to it at all. I shook away my thoughts, "Mari, Mari, your name is the symbol of your mom's love." I was persuading myself. I take a deep breath in, 'They'll be okay, it'll all be okay.'
I compose myself, not letting my situation overwhelm me. I wind up, throwing a curveball towards the net. 'Kaz, if only you could see me now.' Two years' worth of progress, I'm able to throw a nasty curveball and a decent cutter. My coaches and some reporters have called me a genius pitcher. Though it was mostly due to hard work and my dad's coaching. I've always been practicing daily with my batting and my pitching. I decided to practice lightly today due to my game tomorrow.
After an hour of practice, I decided to head back inside. I could still hear my parents bicker. I passed by the kitchen and eavesdropped on their argument, wondering if it was about me. "She's a great baseball player, Riane." It came from my dad, he harshly snapped back at my mom. "It doesn't matter, Maki! There's no such thing as women's pro baseball! What's the point of her practicing so much when she has no future in it? She could be greater somewhere else!" My mom argued back. It hit me hard. It was the truth. After high school, I could only play in clubs, but I could never play in pro baseball.
As I was about to leave, not being able to take in any more. My mom continued to speak, "These past two years were only a reminder of how it's like being married to you." She paused for a minute, and my dad wasn't saying anything back. She continued, "I... I want a divorce." Shock instantly filled my body, and everything around me began to spiral. I took a couple of steps backwards and stumbled on the ground. My parents heard me, "Mari? Is that you?" They both called for me. I fumbled to get up, then rushed to my room. My dad followed directly after me, and my mom stayed behind. She was probably too ashamed to face me.
I sat on my bed and hugged my knees with the covers on top of me. "Mari?" I silently cried under my covers. "Mari? What did you hear?" I cried harder at my dad's voice. I was being spoiled again by him. My dad should be the one bawling right now, not me. "Mari, none of this is your fault. Okay?" I shook my head. "It's true. It's always been like this." He tried to reason. "No, dad. It's my fault! Mom would've been fine if I gave up baseball." I said while crying. "That's not true." "It is! You don't have to lie to me. I'm the one that ruined your marriage. It's all because of me," There was silence, "Mari…" He didn't know what to say anymore. I didn't know if it was because he agreed, or he was at a loss for words. "Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," repeating myself while I cried out loudly. All my dad could do at the moment was hold me until I settled down. "It's not your fault, Mari. We've lived three years apart. Our marriage just broke down over the years." My dad reasoned while a small part of me still believed I was at fault. "Now go wash up and go to sleep. You have a game tomorrow." I decided to stay under the cover for a minute longer. My dad sighed and left my room. As soon as he left, I peeked my head out and reached for the baseball on my table.
It was Kazuya's ball. I laid down on my bed, talking to the baseball on my hand, pretending it was Kazuya. "Kaz, this is all my fault." "Yan, you're so dense." Trying to imitate Kazuya's voice, it made me giggle a little. My mood turned a bit better now. I attempted to hug the ball, "Thanks, Kaz." I fell asleep right away.
It was already the next day, and I was standing on the mound. It was already in the 5th inning, and the score was 6-4 with us leading. There was a runner on 3rd base with two outs and the clean-up batter on the plate. He had a wooden bat on him batting on the right. I planned to frighten him with a heavy inside fastball. I turned my head to glare at the 3rd runner when I caught a glimpse of my dad on the stands. He had the most sullen look on his face, and he wasn't paying attention to my game nor me. Seeing him like that overwhelmed me with sadness and guilt instantly. My teammates shouted at me, "Hey, Mari! Any minute now!"
I tried to focus back on the game. I wind up when I threw the ball my fingers slip on the release. "Shoot!" I said out loud. The pitch was heading down the middle. The batter swung for it, breaking his maple bat in half into jagged pieces. The ball went over my head, I turned my head to follow it. It was heading down the deep right field.
Suddenly a sharp blunt object had hit my chest. It was a piece of the broken bat that flew directly towards me, knocking the wind out of me. I heard my teammates shout my name. I placed my hands on my knees to recover. I gave a thumbs-up to the coach and umpire. I went down to pick up the jagged piece of wood off the mound. As I bent down, I started to feel the discomfort in my chest. I lifted my jersey to check my chest, and I was bleeding. My eyes widened, not knowing what to do. My heart started to beat rapidly, my chest was beginning to feel tight, and it was getting harder to breathe by the second. My catcher noticed this, and he dashed towards the mound. I was hyperventilating, trying to gasp for air. 'I- I can't breathe.' I didn't know if it was due to shock or the wound. I collapsed on my knees, and the catcher caught my shoulders before I fell forward on the ground. He managed to get me off the mound and escorted me off the field towards the dugout. Everyone started to murmur.
The coach noticed red stains starting to form on my jersey. "Coach, She's bleeding." My catcher, Leo, informed the coach. He took a towel to cover my chest. A crowd started to form, consisting of my teammates and umpires. "Hold this down on your chest. The assistant coach will take you to the hospital." I nodded, still shaken up. The coach explained the situation to the umpires, and I was escorted off. I was given a standing ovation by the audience. Though a piercing noise in my ears was louder than their cheers, it drowned everything out.
As I headed out of the stadium, my dad was there with a worried expression. "Mari, what happened? Are you okay?" He led me to our car. It was already idling at the front of the stadium. To lessen his worry, I put on a brave face. "Yeah, dad, I'll be fine." He started to drive to the hospital while the assistant coach held down on the towel, unsure of what to do.
They've been taking countless tests since I got here. My mom is a doctor in this hospital, so I was instantly prioritized. My mom came up to me, "It seemed like you were hit on your upper chest." I nodded at her. "Yeah, it felt weird on my side here, then it started to get harder to breathe," I explained myself to her. She looked like she wanted to say something before she changed her mind, "Well, we're going to have you in for exploratory surgery." "Mom? Could I still play baseball?" I asked her, feeling a little anxious. Her face twitched but answered, "After you heal honey. Now surgery will start in 2 hours, a nurse should come here and ask you a ton of questions. Be patient okay?" I nodded at her, "Okay, hand in there, honey." My mom left the room to let the nurse prepare me for surgery.
"She was hit on the upper chest, allowing air into her chest well and potentially her lungs. During the surgery, we witnessed the fracture, and it's been taken care of. The wound was only a few inches from her heart and could've been much more serious. Thankfully, there was minimal external bleeding. She's now being treated with a chest tube to prevent a collapsed lung." The surgeon explained to both my parents outside my room. "Your daughter is in stable condition."
It's been a couple hours since the surgery. And a couple of minutes since I've been told of my injury. I was still able to play baseball in six to eight weeks. Though it didn't ease anything, I was scared, 'What if I can't play? What if I come back and I forget how to play?' I started to panic, which caused the heart rate monitor to speed up. My mom immediately heard this and checked up on me, "What if I can't play baseball anymore?" I told her, breaking down in front of her. "Stop talking nonsense. You only have to rest for eight weeks." My mom tried to comfort me. As much as she wanted me to give up baseball. She didn't want it to end this way either. I knew my mom was impressed with me and had kept it to herself. I only noticed when I saw always had double copies of the magazine articles about me that would all read, 'the genius pitcher' and other sorts of praise.
I noticed my mom was being oddly nice to me. 'Is it because I'm injured? Or is it because we're in her workplace?' I questioned her intent. I decided to take advantage of it and confront her about their plans to get a divorce.
The silence still overwhelmed the room, and my dad was probably outside, unable to face me. "Are you and dad gonna get a divorce?" I asked out of the blue. "Yes, we are. We'll focus on it when you get better, but we've agreed on it." My mom told me while holding my hand.
I looked away from her and glanced at the tube on the wall. My eyes travelled down to the three bottles with some type of substance. I continued to trace it until it was cut off to the part inserted to the side of my chest. 'And it's all because of you, Mari.' I kept placing the blame on myself.
Timeskip - 2 months
I was at the hospital after taking multiple tests to see if my wound had healed. I was in the waiting room, waiting for my mom for the news.
It's been a little over two months since the accident. I was out of the hospital after a week and a half. It took another two weeks for the pain to go away and a whole month for it to heal completely. I let out a sigh. For the two months, I wasn't able to do anything but go to school and watch my team play. I started to help out by reading the scorebook until I had the knack to score keep myself. I learned how to analyze the data and come up with strategies for each game and practice each teammate should focus on. I was placed as a manager on the dugout for the rest of the season.
While I still kept going to the baseball practices, my mom told me sternly for the past two months, "You could only watch or go for walks. And until I say it's okay, any type of practice is not allowed and no jogging either." My mom has been kinder to me since my injury and since she opted for a divorce. While my dad has been careful around me. He would rarely ever mention baseball, and when he does, it's about how I could practice without straining myself. We would often play catch lightly with a stress ball in the living room until I feel the pain in my chest. He also gave me a list of simple stretches to keep my flexibility and help my muscles around my chest less tense.
"Mari." I jolted. I was interrupted from my thoughts and looked over at the voice. I watched my mom walking up to me. "It seems like you're good to go, Mari," I beam, "What? I can start playing now?" She nodded, "Don't start with any strenuous activities. Keep it light for now and increase the load later on. Don't push yourself too hard, Mari." My mom warned me. I was jumping in place at her answer with a huge grin on my face. "Let's go now! Hurry!" I told her as I dragged her arm to the car. I was dropped off in front of my school to return to classes. There was only an hour left until practice. I head my way to the baseball field.
I arrived at the bullpen, there was already a net and a cart full of baseball set in place for practice. I grab one and wind up, deciding to throw a heavy fastball towards the net.
Thud!
I squirmed happily. It was like music to my ears indeed. It's only been two months, but it seems like forever since I heard the crisp sound. I wind up, throwing another one again. I started to analyze my last pitch, 'My shoulder was a little stiff. Maybe I've become a bit rusty.' I wind-up throwing a four-seamer to the net. The power, speed and aim were still there, but I started to feel a little out of breath. 'I need to work on my stamina too.' It's been two months since I've done any type of exercise, so it was only natural that I would feel drained.
I threw a two-seamer on the net, the speed almost matched my fastball, but it had a nasty rightward movement before hitting the net. I hummed in joy. I still got it in me. I threw a couple more, from a change-up to a curveball, then a cutter. I definitely need to practice my two breaking balls, but I was glad my body still remembered how to pitch. I decided to stop, for now, not wanting to overdo it.
It wasn't until the coach came up behind me, "Mari! What do you think you're doing?" He asked me. He looked like he was about to scold me. I grinned at him as I was excited to tell him the good news. "I can play now!" I shouted toward the sky. It was the pent-up energy I wanted to release for a while. My coach was taken back before he smiled, "You were cleared today?" I nodded my head as he continued speaking, giving me a whole-hearted smile. "Well, while you still have that energy, how about a practice match to celebrate." Finally, some good news. My eyes twinkled in excitement as I cheered, "Yes, Sir!" "Okay, go warm up. Don't do anything stupid." I nodded at my coach. I started to do some stretches, doing a couple of exercises my dad taught me over the years.
It wasn't long until my teammates started to roll in the field. Everyone was shocked to see me practicing in the bullpen. "Mari! You know you shouldn't be doing that!" "I'm telling the coach." More shouts expressing their worries came. I only flashed them a grin, pitching another ball to the net. It wasn't until someone grabbed me by the ear, "Ow!" It was from my catcher, Leo Tarvis.
We definitely started at a rough patch since he hated my risky and aggressive plays. I wasn't a fan of how he played a little too defensively. Though having to spend two years playing baseball, we've learned to compromise. He wasn't like Kazuya at all. Since the start, he was such an overbearing perfectionist. I've come to slowly understand that he doesn't know how to control his frustration. He only knew to expresses his thoughts and emotions by complaining about our performances and barking orders at us. But, due to my stubbornness, he's learned to accept and trust me more as his pitcher.
"Why do you have to do that, Leo?" I faced him angrily. "You're supposed to be injured, Mari. We need you in perfect condition when you come back." He scolded me. Before I could say anything back to him, the coach interrupted me.
"The first string is going to have a game against the second string." My teammates started to murmur, "To celebrate for Mari coming back to the team as a pitcher." Everyone eyed me, both in disbelief and in joy. I grinned at my teammates and turned my head to Leo. I stuck my tongue out for him, "You're stuck with me again." "You better be careful before you bite your tongue." He jokingly threatened as he attempted to shut my jaw closed. I immediately pulled back from him to dodge his hand. We laughed and got ready before we headed to the field.
I took a step on the field, heading my way to the mound. The closer I got to the mound, it gradually became a little more terrifying. I tried to suppress my uneasiness, convincing myself it was only my anxiety from not playing for a while. I stood on the mound, I felt a heavy burden on my chest. My heartbeat started to quicken, and I was sweating bullets down my back. It felt like I was reliving the moment two months ago. I collapsed on the ground, and I looked at Leo for help. He was already running towards me, shouting my name. 'I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't-' I struggled, gasping for air as my chest started to tighten harder by the second. I felt a sharp pain in my upper chest, and I winced.
"Mari, are you okay? What's happening?" Leo held me in his arms as everyone began to panic, running towards me. The coach was already calling for an ambulance. I could only let out a whimper before my vision started to blur until it was pitch black.
I passed out.