The dance concluded on the following day, July 21st, officially marking the start of summer break.
Dubian Che still woke at six and proceeded to go out for a jog.
However, his running route had changed.
Because jogging on the bustling Shinjuku Avenue had turned him into a local Forrest Gump, attracting a crowd of onlookers,
those idle folks started treating him as an attraction or a piece of Shinjuku District gossip! One TV program even interviewed him exclusively!
Beginning today, he decided to stick to residential streets for his morning run, away from the meddling onlookers.
Route: Home — Suga Shrine
The Shibuya residential area was quite dense, and the roads narrow.
In July, the sky was vast and the sun just right, with ivy and evergreens, among other plants, flashing blinding shades of green, occasionally complemented by the sight of beautiful hydrangea.
There were plenty of slopes here, almost rivaling the number of vending machines by the roadside.
Having completed the ascent named ’Heavenly King Slope,’ even the physically committed Dubian Che arrived in front of Suga Shrine panting hard, with pearl-sized beads of sweat rolling down his pale and handsome face.
Dubian Che sat on the stone steps at the entrance of the Shrine, listening to the cicadas resonating from within, and guzzled a bottle of Ramune.
"Drinking junk drinks early in the morning, the youth these days," three elderly women, strolling near the Shrine, scrutinized both Dubian Che’s face and the drink in his hand.
"If I don’t drink now, should I wait until I’m your age?" Dubian Che replied loudly.
That made the old women look at him even more disapprovingly.
They pointed at Dubian Che, whispering head to head, then disappeared around the corner of the downhill path.
Dubian Che took another gulp, exhaled a satisfied sigh filled with carbon dioxide, then angled the marble-laden soda bottle towards the sun.
The pattern on the glass refracted dreamlike colors in the sunlight.
After resting for a bit, he ran back home, took a shower, changed into his school uniform, and set off for school.
The school campus was less crowded during summer break but still bustling; the energetic shouts of youth from the sports clubs on the playground could reach every hallway and courtyard.
The Wind Instrument Club’s training had become increasingly intensive, especially as they entered the final stretch. Under Kiyono Lin’s pressing demand,
she would often say, "During your bath, before you sleep, you must memorize the melody. Those who haven’t given their utmost effort don’t deserve to compete nationally."
Even Dubian Che, gradually becoming immersed in his oboe, could not escape being scolded.
"Mr. Dubian, don’t you realize the oboe is crucial in the piece I’ve chosen?"
"Mr. Dubian, why do you need to spend such a long time in the restroom? Are you planning to live in there?"
"Mr. Dubian, with time to play ’Jingle Bells’ and video games, why not practice your solo piece?"
"Dubian, Dubian, Dubian," Dubian Che hurled the baseball with all his might, "I know my last name is Dubian already! No need to remind me!"
The crisp sound of the ball making contact echoed through the late July summer sky.
Kunii Shuichi shouted from the batting area, "Good pitch! Again!"
Dubian Che picked up another ball from the basket and threw it towards the strike zone.
Unexpectedly, there was only the sound of the bat whooshing through air.
"Impossible! A Carter Ball!" Shuichi swung and missed, shouting incredulously.
"You’re wrong! It’s a Pokémon Ball!" Dubian Che threw another pitch, which he had no idea was called a ’Carter Ball.’
This time, the metallic sound of the ball being struck reverberated across Goda, drawing the attention of crows perched atop trees overlooking the school buildings.
After finishing that pitch, the two made their way to the rest area near first base.
"Your pitching speed has been increasing lately, and today you even threw a Carter Ball. With that kind of improvement, you could totally join the baseball team as a sparring partner."
"Underestimating me? My goal is to strike you out before the Koshien tournament starts."
Kunii Shuichi responded to Dubian Che’s boastful claim with a hearty laugh.
He said, "By the way, when does the Wind Instrument Club competition start?"
"Not much time left, no wonder I haven’t heard any rest from the instruments lately."
"And you guys?" Dubian Che queried.
"We’ve already defeated several schools, though I haven’t played yet." Shuichi pointed to a player practicing with the coach, "With Uchida Senpai’s fastballs alone, Goda could win the ’East Tokyo’ regional championship and secure a spot in Koshien."
"Of course. Uchida Senpai is..."
"Not him. I mean, can a good pitcher secure a victory for the team by himself?"
"Certainly! If the others can’t hit your pitches, they can’t score, how can they win? But, if the other side has a strong pitcher too, then that’s trouble."
Shuichi excitedly recounted to Dubian Che the Koshien tournament’s 19th edition, where the representatives from Hyogo Prefecture faced off against those from Aichi Prefecture.
Both pitchers were like Lu Bu — Shuichi’s own words — resulting in neither team’s hitters connecting with their pitches, leaving the score unchanged throughout.
The match lasted for more than four hours, with the score so prolonged that the scoreboard couldn’t accommodate it without a makeshift extension.
"However, for a pitcher to stand out, they have to be incredibly strong, whereas for a hitter, just one hit out of three at-bats counts as the hitter’s victory," Shuichi concluded as a batter himself.
After chatting for some time, the whistle from the baseball coach blew, and all the players immediately gathered to continue training under the scorching sun.
Dubian Che stayed in the rest area for a short while, hearing the coach berating the team with at least ten ’Baka’ (idiot) shouts.
It seemed that regardless of the club, coaches shared the same proclivity for lecturing.