<div><h2>"It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then."</h2> An interactive Ookiku Furikabutte story by Team Nishiura Birbs. <h1>&emsp;&emsp;[[Begin->OpeningScene]]</h1> <img src="https://i.imgur.com/FgonRYI.jpg" alt="Mihashi, Abe, and Tajima stand around a red oak table. Mihashi is reaching his hand forward, while Tajima pats Mihashi on the back with a wide grin and Abe smiles at him fondly." ></div><div>Let us tell you a story. On a bright midsummer day under the shade of a willow tree, a boy sat asleep in the grass with his back against the tree trunk. On his chest he cradled a baseball, held tight even in sleep. He had been dozing here for the better part of an hour. His dreams were filled with pitcher’s gloves, bats, and dugouts—all sane, all ordinary. When he woke, however, the world he entered was anything but. Reality is not always more sane than dreams. The boy woke to the sound of his name. “Mihashi!” said a voice. [[“Mihashi, wake up.”->OpeningScene2]] </div><img class="map" alt="Mihashi, Tajima, and Abe sit before a red oak table. On the table are three objects: a piece of cake, a tea cup, and a mushroom. Mihashi is reaching his hand forward to select one of these objects, while Tajima pats Mihashi on the back with a wide grin and Abe smiles at him fondly." src="https://i.imgur.com/4ip2bud.jpg" usemap="#image-map"> <div class="center"><i>Select one of the items on the table to continue, or select the text below.</i> [[Cake]] | [[Tea]] | [[Mushroom]] [[I'm ready to go home.->Conclusion]]</div> <map name="image-map"> [<area alt="Cake" title="Cake" coords="156,492,237,545,349,530,310,493,309,471,265,397,187,415,186,479" shape="poly">]<HookLink1|(click: ?HookLink1)[(goto: "Cake")] [<area alt="Tea" title="Tea" coords="405,472,383,463,363,399,396,377,465,380,497,403,496,415,508,423,506,450,489,463,463,472,473,488,434,499,391,487" shape="poly">]<HookLink2|(click: ?HookLink2)[(goto: "Tea")] [<area alt="Mushroo " title="Mushroom" coords="613,516,645,524,670,514,676,478,655,445,622,426,578,428,553,444,553,471,583,504,570,528,583,540,604,540" shape="poly">]<HookLink3|(click: ?HookLink3)[(goto: "Mushroom")] </map> <!-- Image Map Generated by http://www.image-map.net/ --><div>Mihashi took the slice of cake and cradled it carefully in his hands, marveling at the delicate white frosting and the light spongy cake underneath. Closing his eyes, he [[took a bite.->Cake2]] &emsp;&emsp;[[<img alt="A piece of cake with white frosting and red filling." width=80% src="https://i.imgur.com/U3IHuGJ.png">->Cake2]] </div><div>Mihashi picked up the teacup, the white porcelain cool in his hands. He took a cautious sip. The tea was sweet—almost too sweet. As he sipped the tea again, the steam from the cup blurred his vision until he could see nothing but a white fog. He [[blinked->Tea2]] once, twice, and then— &emsp;&emsp;[[<img alt="A white teacup." width=80% src="https://i.imgur.com/wUzhlk1.png">->Tea2]] </div><div>Mihashi took a nibble of the mushroom, and the world went [[fuzzy->Mushroom2]]. &emsp;&emsp;[[<img alt="A large white mushroom." width=80% src="https://i.imgur.com/JptdTJQ.png">->Mushroom2]] </div><div>“I think...I think it’s time to...to go home,” Mihashi said. He’d tasted all three of the treats on the table, and now he felt tired. So tired... “Don’t worry, we’ll get you home,” said Tajima, putting an arm over Mihashi’s shoulder. On his other side, Abe reached forward and linked their hands together. “It’s okay.” Abe squeezed Mihashi’s hand. [[“You can sleep now.”->Conclusion2]]</div>{ (print: "<script>$('html').removeClass(\)</script>") (if: (passage:)'s tags's length > 0)[ (print: "<script>$('html').addClass('" + (passage:)'s tags.join(' ') + "'\)</script>") ] }<div>Mihashi looked around at the chamber he landed in. Tajima was nowhere to be found; the room was empty, save for him. He was alone. The room looked almost like a cathedral, or a concert hall, but with no windows. Small floating candles illuminated the space like fireflies, dripping wax onto the black marble tiles below. The ceiling was tall and dark, supported by vast ebony columns and decorated with ornate gold embellishments that looked almost molten in the candlelight. The room was altogether strange and ethereal—otherworldly. Mihashi has never seen anything like it. [[He began to feel afraid.->ToParty2]]</div><div>With a yawn and a sigh, Mihashi’s eyes fluttered open. Before him stood his friend, Tajima. Mihashi blinked and smiled at the familiar face—and then paused. Something was different about Tajima. Something was...strange. But before he could determine what was so odd, Tajima took his hand. “Come with me,” Tajima grinned, and tugged gently and Mihashi’s wrist. Mihashi stood and followed Tajima away from the shade of the willow tree. “Where are we going?” “You’ll see,” Tajima replied. [[And indeed, he did.->OpeningScene3]] </div><div>Just a few feet away tucked between moss and honeysuckles and briars was a large, dark hole, about three feet in diameter. As Mihashi crept forward, he saw the darkness extend down, and down, and down so far he could not hope to know how deep the hole went. The unknowable darkness made him nervous. “Let’s go,” Tajima said, gently guiding Mihashi towards the edge of the hole. “It’ll be fine. I promise.” “Are you...are you sure?” “I’m always sure,” Tajima laughed. [[And then he jumped.->OpeningScene4]] </div><div>Mihashi stared after him, looking down into the dark depths of the earth and trying to gather his courage. He licked his lips and clenched his fists. Tajima went, and he trusted Tajima. He knew Tajima would never intentionally put him in harm’s way. Still, fear gripped his heart like weeds digging into topsoil. It took all his will to toe the edge of the hole and stare down into the unknown. A leap of faith. That was all he needed. Mihashi took a deep breath, closed his eyes, stepped forward, [[and fell->OpeningScene5]]. </div><div>(link: "And fell.")[ (link: "&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;And fell. ")[ (link:"&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;And fell. ")[ &ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;&ensp;And fell. It was like falling through water—slow, weightless, endless. He fell a long, long time, gasping into the cool air that breezed lazily past him. He saw nothing but darkness, felt nothing but the air around him. Then a soft glow rose from the space below, growing brighter and brighter until his feet finally landed softly on the floor at [[the bottom of the hole.->ToParty]]]]]</div><div>“H-Hello?” Mihashi called out. His voice echoed through the chamber, hollow. The room was silent for several moments, filled only with the burning of wicks and the dripping of wax onto marble. Then— “Mihashi.” Mihashi turned around, and relief flooded through him instantly. Behind him stood Abe, surly as usual—but not angry. Mihashi knew the difference now. “Abe-kun,” Mihashi said, smiling. Abe didn’t smile back, but his brows lifted and his forehead smoothed, which for Abe is more or less the same as a smile, anyway. Abe reached out his hand, and Mihashi took it, feeling the warmth of Abe’s palm against his own like an anchor. Even in a place as odd and impossible as this, if Abe was here, Mihashi knew [[everything would be okay->ToParty3]].</div><div>“Follow me,” Abe said, pulling his hand. As he did, Mihashi noticed a door he hadn’t seen before, wide and solid wood with a huge brass handle. Mihashi went. Tajima hadn’t led him astray, and surely Abe wouldn’t, either. Through the door was another chamber, smaller than the first but no less grand. Unlike the first room, however, it was not empty. The whole team was there, waiting for him with excited smiles as they stood around a sturdy red oak table. “I knew Abe would find you,” Tajima said. He gestured at the items on the table. “Here, [[come look at what we’ve got for you->ToParty4]].”</div><div>On the table were three items: a slice of cake, a cup of tea, and a mushroom. “What are...?” Mihashi asked, tilting his head at the odd collection before them. “They show us reflections of ourselves,” Abe answered, “and the choices we make. The changes we experience.” “Do I… Do I only pick one?” “No,” Tajima said. “You can have all of them, if you like. But the order is up to you.” Mihashi nodded. He looked at the options before him and began to make his [[choice->TeaParty]]...</div><div>When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the chamber with his teammates. Instead, he was home, sitting at the dining table with his mother. He recognized this day. It was his birthday—his fourteenth birthday. In front of him was another cake: one that was less professional perhaps than the one he ate to get here, but no less perfect. This cake was homemade by [[his mother->Cake3]].</div><img alt="Mihashi's mother presents his birthday cake. Mihashi's mother is smiling brightly with her hands pressed together in thanks for the meal, but Mihashi is frowning. He wears a black Mihoshi jersey and stares sadly at the single candle on the pretty pink birthday cake before him." width=80% src="https://i.imgur.com/mi56WXW.jpg"> <div class="center"> He could still [[remember->Cake4]] exactly what it tasted like.</div><div>“Make a wish, Ren,” his mother said, smiling at him brightly. Mihashi looked down. He was wearing his old Mihoshi jersey. He’d been at a game earlier that day—another loss. Another loss Mihashi carried entirely on his own shoulders. He remembered what his wish had been at that moment: to run away and leave Mihoshi. To transfer to some other school, maybe Nishiura. To escape the ostracization he faced every day of his life in middle school. He’d been terrified that if he stayed, high school would be [[more of the same->Cake5]].</div><div>In a few months, he would muster the courage to tell his mother he wanted to transfer. He would start high school at Nishiura in the spring, and meet Abe, and Tajima, and all the others. He would be Nishiura’s star pitcher, and he would compete against the teammates he'd played beside for three years at Mihoshi. Had he made the right decision? Mihashi contemplated this as the candle flickered atop his cake. Could he have figured out how to become a better teammate at Mihoshi? Could he have faced his problems there, instead of running away? “You’re thinking too hard,” said [[a voice->Cake6]] across the table. Mihashi looked up.</div><div>The scene had paused, his mother unmoving and the candle frozen in unnatural stillness. Opposite him stood Kanou, who grinned and gave a small wave. “Everything turned out well in the end, didn’t it?” Kanou said. “I mean, I like being rivals with you. I always play my best when you’re the pitcher I’m playing against.” Mihashi smiled back. Kanou gestured for him to stand, and he did. Mihashi followed Kanou out of his kitchen, through the hallway of his home and to the front door. Kanou opened it and stepped aside. [[“After you.”->Cake7]]</div><div>Mihashi stepped through the door and blinked. He was back in the chamber with his friends. He turned back, looking for Kanou to follow, but the door he’d entered through had vanished. Kanou was nowhere to be found. “Wanna pick again?” Tajima asked. On the table, all three items sat in perfect wholeness, as though he’d never touched them. It was time for Mihashi to make another [[choice->TeaParty]]...</div><div>He was on the field. It was his third year at Nishiura, and everything was different. The field was freshly manicured, groomed more professionally than a ragtag group of first years could have ever done. In front of him was one of his kouhai, Hitomaro, a nervous first year who watched everything Mihashi did with stars in his eyes. He did the same now, staring as Mihashi demonstrated his curveball. “Your wrist...um... “ Mihashi held out his arm, pointing to the angle of his wrist and the ball. “Yours was a little...downturned? I think you would be..um... I think you’ll have more control if you turn it like...like this.” He turned his wrist to demonstrate the new position, and [[Hitomaro->Tea3]] nodded, his eyes wide and attentive.</div><div>“That makes sense!” Hitomaro exclaimed. He held out his own baseball and practiced going through the motions slowly, keeping his eye on the angle of his wrist. He glanced over at Mihashi for approval, and Mihashi smiled. “If you practice it...I think your curveball could be your—your best pitch.” [[Hitomaro’s eyes sparkled.->Tea4]] </div><div>Mihashi made his way back to the dugout to check in with Momoe about Hitomaro’s progress. Nishiura had become a truly cohesive team this year, with backups and college scouts and a real shot at winning Koshien. He was proud of how far they’d come, proud of how hard they worked to get here. No one could have guessed Nishiura would become what it was today, a school that just three years ago had no baseball team at all. And they could never have done it without Momoe. “Momoe-san,” Mihashi said as he approached. [[Momoe->Tea5]] set down her clipboard and smiled at him.</div><img alt="Momoe and Mihashi stand side by side, looking out onto the field. Momoe is gesturing out to the new players who are pitching out there, practicing their form. She looks at Mihashi standin beside her as she does so with a motherly look on her face." width=80% src="https://i.imgur.com/f1lzd3r.jpg"> <div class="center">“Hitomaro-kun is looking great, thanks to you,” she said. [[“You helped him with his curveball?”->Tea6]]</div><div>Mihashi nodded. Momoe put her hand on his shoulder. “You’ve grown,” she said, squeezing his shoulder gently. “In skill and in everything else. I’m so glad I’ve gotten to see the confident young man you’ve become.” Mihashi blushed under her praise, but he was glad, too. “The new players—they’re lucky to have you, you know.” Momoe looked out at the field, at the dozens of players who dotted the grass. Mihashi saw himself out there, teaching Hitomaro. “You’ve made your mark here. But now it’s time for you to [[move on->Tea7]].”</div><div>“What?” Mihashi asked. But then Momoe gave him a forceful yet motherly slap on the back, making him stumble forward. When he looked up, he was back at the room from before, his teammates watching him next to the red oak table. “Ready to make another choice?” asked Tajima. Mihashi looked at his options and contemplated his [[decision->TeaParty]]…</div><div>When everything came back into focus, Mihashi was looking at himself. The version of himself he saw wasn't him as he was now, a scrawny third year in high school – not as scrawny as he used to be, of course, but still small. No, this Mihashi was a little taller, a little more filled out, and he was talking to Haruna Motoki. Haruna wore the uniform of the Saitama Lions, the pro team he'd been talking about playing for all year, determined to pitch only for the best. Mihashi couldn't help staring at his rival-slash-mentor; he felt a swell of pride, seeing him [[exactly where he wanted to be->Mushroom3]].</div><img alt="Mihashi and Haruna shake hands in the middle of a field. Behind them is the vague blur of a crowd with flashing cameras. Both Haruna and Mihashi are smiling as they look at each other, and Haruna's Lions jersey is displayed prominently. Mihashi has an undercut." width=80% src="https://i.imgur.com/0aLK4IV.jpg"> <div class="center">On the field, he and Haruna were [[shaking hands->Mushroom4]].</div><div>Mihashi thought of all the times he'd texted Haruna questions during his second and third year of high school. It had taken him a while to work up the courage, but once he did, Haruna quickly became one of his closest mentors. Mihashi asked him about building muscle, about form, about injury prevention. He remembered their impromptu pitching practices whenever Haruna had a break from the team, how he'd give Mihashi tips and advice, and how much it meant to Mihashi to have his senpai guiding him and helping him improve. They didn't have upperclassmen at Nishiura, and as much as Mihashi loved playing there, he wondered just how much better he could be now if they'd had older students to look up to. But Mihashi had Haruna, and maybe that was [[enough->Mushroom5]].</div><div>“Lookin' good, Ren!” Another Haruna, still in his Musashino uniform despite graduating last year, was suddenly beside him. Mihashi flinched sharply. “H-H-H-Haruna-senpai...!” “I know you're all pumped to play with me, Ren, and you'll get there. I know you will.” Haruna grinned, and Mihashi continued to stutter nonsense syllables in response. As well as he'd gotten to know Haruna the last couple years, he still couldn't help but feel [[intimidated->Mushroom6]] by him.</div><div>Haruna was so strong, and so good at going after what he wanted. “I want...to pitch!” Mihashi told him, for probably the eight hundredth time since they'd met. Haruna laughed, smacking him in the back, cheerful and encouraging as always. “You will!” he said, looking back out at their older selves, standing tall and sure and at home on the field of a professional stadium. Mihashi's gaze followed Haruna's, seeing all the ways his older self was bigger and stronger – but also all the ways he was still him, exactly the same, and how maybe the only difference between them was time. “Pay attention to your body, and you'll get there. Just [[don't push too hard->Mushroom7]] like I did, okay?” Haruna added, his tone growing heavier than before. </div><div>Mihashi turned to him, concern on his tongue, but Haruna was already gone, and then so was the field, and his older self, and instead he was back at a familiar red oak table, feeling a strange mixture of fear and confusion, but also [[hope->TeaParty]].</div><div>And sleep really was exactly what Mihashi wanted. His eyes fluttered shut, and his limbs felt suddenly heavy, as though his bones were being pulled down towards the earth’s core. He felt himself float down, down, down through the marble tile, down through the rock below, falling weightlessly until— Mihashi opened his eyes. He looked up at the willow tree above him and the late afternoon sun slipping through its branches. What time was it? He checked the clock on his phone: 5:30pm. [[Practice would start soon.->Conclusion3]]</div><div>Mihashi grinned and got to his feet. His teammates were waiting for him in the field, just starting their warmups. He felt a familiar pull in his chest whenever he looked at that field, like something in the dirt and grass and paint was calling him to it. On this sunny afternoon, with the cool afternoon breeze sweeping the long branches of the willow above him, Mihashi listened to the call gladly. He had so much more to do, so much further to grow. And right now, it was time to play baseball. [[Mihashi couldn’t wait.->EndScreen]]</div><div><h1>The End</h1> Thank you so much for playing our game! We hope you enjoyed it. If you would like to play again, you can click or tap here to return to the [[Start]]. </div>