"Silence can weigh heavier than any scoreboard."
---
The hallways of Kamiyama Middle were unusually quiet that Monday morning.
No congratulatory backslaps.
No sympathetic glances.
Just the soft hum of lockers and footsteps.
Haruto navigated the corridors with his head bowed, replaying the final out in his mind.
---
Classroom 2-C
Sōta was already at his desk, scribbling in his notebook. He looked up when Haruto slipped in—no teasing smile, just concern.
"You okay?" he whispered.
Haruto shrugged, slumping into his seat. "Yeah… just thinking."
Reina arrived seconds later and dropped her bag with a dramatic sigh. "I can't believe I flubbed that relay throw."
"Everyone did something," Haruto said quietly. "We were two innings ahead."
Reina's shoulders tensed. "And then we weren't."
---
Lunchtime Confessions
In the empty corner by the windows, the trio ate in silence until Haruto spoke.
"I've thrown hundreds of pitches," he said, voice low. "Never felt this… hollow."
Sōta nudged him. "You threw a great game."
Reina stabbed at her rice ball. "Except that one wild curve in the fifth inning. That changed everything."
Haruto closed his eyes. "I know. I saw it land in the grass. But telling myself 'next pitch' didn't help."
Sōta swallowed. "What if… we focused on one thing at a time? One pitch, one catch, one base."
Reina considered that. "Yeah… we lost because we got ahead of ourselves."
---
A Quiet Word with Mr. Inoue
After school, Haruto lingered outside the closed gym doors. He found Mr. Inoue erasing equations on the chalkboard.
"Sensei?" Haruto hesitated. "Can I ask… why you're still watching us?"
Inoue paused, chalk in hand. "Because I see something worth my time."
He turned, meeting Haruto's gaze. "Losing teaches more than winning. Don't look for applause—look for understanding."
Haruto nodded, surprised by the gentleness in the teacher's voice. "Thank you."
---
Rebuilding Effort
That evening, the Sparks gathered at their overgrown lot—no crowd, no banners, just the familiar cracked ground.
Haruto drew a line in the dirt. "New plan: we fix what went wrong."
They spent hours drilling:
Haruto: Slow bullpen sessions, focusing on that fifth-inning curve.
Sōta: Catching low strikes again and again.
Reina: Relay throws with focused footwork.
Riku & Kento: Grounders at full speed until every scoop was clean.
Tomo: Bunting practice—getting the ball down, every time.
They argued over technique, cheered on each tiny improvement, and tolerated each other's frustrations.
When they finally stopped—exhausted and sore—the field was dark except for a single streetlamp.
---
Closing Moment
Haruto leaned on his bat. "We might lose again."
Reina wiped her brow. "So?"
He looked at her. "So… next time, we'll know exactly how to fight."
Sōta grinned. "And maybe, just maybe, surprise ourselves."
They gathered in a huddle, hands together.
"One—two—three—Sparks!" they shouted, voices echoing into the night.
No crowds. No cheers.
Just a promise.
And that was enough to light the way forward.
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End of Chapter 12