[Short Story] The Lounge at Dawn (Part 1)

Lagoon Lounge complementary episode “The Lounge at Dawn” Point in time : After the ending of episode 6 Translation : and_is_w ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Gou-senpai, would you like some tea? Or maybe some sake?” Yuujirou asks me as he opens the restaurant’s refrigerator. “No sake, I’ll have barley tea.” “Roger that!” With his huge arms, Yuujirou carries over an equally huge bottle and pours barley tea into a glass filled with ice. The refreshing sound of clinking ice fills the Lounge. Yuujirou and I sit on two chairs placed next to an open window. “Can you hold the glass?” “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I take it from Yuujirou and hold it in both of my hands. Despite being burnt, they don’t have any trouble touching cold things. It actually feels pretty nice. I gulp down the chilled barley tea, then set the empty glass on the table. Droplets of water slide down it and soak into the grain of the wood. “Gou-senpai, drinking it all at once is bad for your stomach.” “Then you’ll have to help me in the bathroom.” “Eww… I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let it get to that point…” He says that with a nervous expression. I was just joking. One thing led to another, and I ended up burning my hands 2 days ago. Kuugo did all he could to treat them, but I’m far from being able to use them freely again. Yuujirou, who had grown worried after hearing about what happened, came to the Lounge to help me with daily living. He’s such an admirable kouhai. “Shouldn’t you be going home soon?” “Why? I’ll stay here.” “It’s already 2 in the morning. You should’ve gone to bed hours ago.” “I’ll be okay, I’m not tired at all!” “…………” His visible sleepiness says otherwise. He sometimes has to force his heavy eyelids to stay open, and I’ve caught him dozing off on more than one occasion. For better or worse, he’s a terrible liar. He also occasionally displays an uncanny sharpness in noticing small changes in others. He still has it even this late at night, as he recognized my own lack of sleep. Even though I’d like to go to bed, the pain in my hands has prevented me from getting a good night’s rest the last few days. “I think talking like this distracts from the pain.” Yuujirou speaks as if he’s reading my mind. “You say that a lot about things like calming anxiety and relieving pain.” “That’s because I learned that from my own body. When I got hit by that line drive……” “Oh great, that story again.” “Aww……” Once again, he brings that up. The image of him taking a line drive right to the face and blood gushing from his forehead comes rushing back to me, as well as the story that just won’t die of me continuously holding his hand as I gave him encouragement. I get so embarrassed when I think it about it now and don’t like bringing it up, but it seems he has no intention of forgetting about it. “I’ll be there for you whenever you’re in trouble. I’m your right-hand man after all.” “My right-hand man, huh……? Well, I’m counting on you.” I lightly pat his back with one of my burnt hands and feel that it’s damp with sweat. Thanks to the breeze blowing off the lagoon, Harusu Is comfortably cool at night. (It’s hot during the day though from the heat being reflected off the water’s surface.) Because of that, I turn the air conditioning off after closing the Lounge and let the wind naturally cool it. Even so, the dog days of summer are in full effect, so much so that we’re still sweating. “You look hot. Do you want the AC on?” For once, I’m the one fussing over him. “No, I’m okay. I like how the wind feels.” “Oh? I do too.” We both laugh. I knew he’d say that. It was despite the fact that we were thankful for the air conditioning after practice when we played baseball. The wind never blew when we wanted it to, and we were always at the mercy of it as it caused errors. But once I quit baseball, I started to miss that wind. Before I knew it, I had started associating wind with baseball and perhaps developed a nostalgia and affinity for it. On that point, Yuujirou and I shared the same feelings. “How’s school?” “I’m enjoying it! “……I see.” His prompt response gives me some relief. Well, unlike Sousuke and I, he’s liked by people of all ages, so there wasn’t much for me to be worried about in the first place. He doesn’t have it in him to do things his own way even if it pisses other people off. Unless it’s something that can’t be reasonably allowed, he’s the type of guy who values cooperation with others. To be honest, I respect that about him. “Now that I don’t have practice, I’m kind of…… lonely.” “…………” Oh, that’s right. Our baseball team lost the second district qualifying round. He’s a third year student, so he’s retired. He’ll never play high school baseball again. I know that loneliness all too well. I experienced the exact same thing. No more getting up early for morning practice. No more getting hungry during second period and sneaking an early lunch. No more having to go to the diamond right after school. It made my school life feel a whole lot easier, but the painful and empty feeling was even greater than that. “But you didn’t cry, even though you lost, right? I cried like a baby when I retired.” “That’s because the hardest thing for me was when I couldn’t play with you anymore.” “That was harder than when you retired yourself?” “Yeah.” “…………” He really does give an honest answer no matter what. But that’s what I like about him. Yuujirou tightly grasps his dominant hand, and stares at me pensively. (To be continued in the second half)