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Somewhere in the rural outskirts of Hyōgo were massive wheat fields for miles on end. A little distance away from the endless golden plants stood a traditional Japanese house with its lone inhabitant.
Grandpa was really nobody’s grandpa, but all the kids around called him Grandpa because that was the only name they knew him by. Grandpa has been living in this house for what the kids think, forever. He was here when they were born, here when they left this little place for the big metropolis, and still here when they returned with their children for a summer vacation. Grandpa watched the kids grow up, while the kids watched him grow old; but nobody knew exactly how old Grandpa was, just very old. One year, Little Aoko — albeit a high schooler by then, but Grandpa still called her ‘little’ — realized that Grandpa couldn’t sort rice as quickly as he used to. She offered to help but Grandpa shook his head with a smile. No, Grandpa didn’t need to sort rice by hand, there were plenty of machines around the farm that he could use or have employed others to use; Grandpa simply liked the task. That afternoon, Little Aoko sat beside Grandpa in the engawa , dozing off to the setting sun, rustling summer wind, and an occasional cry of a hidden cicada.
This summer, Little Aoko returned with her husband and daughters. They’re planning to spend a couple of weeks in Little Aoko’s parents’ home. After a couple of days of reconvening with family, Little Aoko left her husband and the kids with her parents and went to visit Grandpa. The old man seemed to be waiting for someone else because he faltered slightly when he saw her at the door. Still, he brightened almost immediately at the surprise visit and welcomed her warmly, limping unsteadily through the kitchen to bring out tea and snacks. The two of them sat down in the engawa , overlooking the wheat plants swaying gently in the wind. Little Aoko did most of the talking while Grandpa only looked at her with a serene smile. Little Aoko was in the middle of telling Grandpa about a trip she had gone on when a holler of laughter interrupted her sentence. Looking around, she pinpointed the source of the sound from a group of teenagers that were currently jumping down from the latest model of a Phloater. They seemed to have started some kind of game because all but one of them soon dashed into the wheat field, disappearing from sight. None of them seemed to have noticed the little house some distance away. Little Aoko turned to Grandpa, unsure if he would be angry at the obvious trespassing and possible damage to his field; she was not expecting to find a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of Grandpa’s lips.
“I did that when I was younger.” Grandpa’s raspy voice was barely above a whisper. “Did what?”
“That.” Grandpa raised a bony finger and shakily pointed at the remaining teen, who had now turned around and darted into the field. The following shrieks and laughter were so loud that even the two of them could hear from where they sat. “They’re playing tag.” He stated as a matter of fact; his eyes looked like he was staring into the past. “I played tag with my volleyball team when I was 18. In a wheat field.”
“Was it fun?” asked Little Aoko.
“Oh yes, it was.” Grandpa looked over to her, a youthful, mischievous twinkle shining in his eyes. “Do you want to know how it went?”
***
It was a normal summer’s day in Hyogo, where the sun’s high and the crows fly. The volleyball team of Inarizaki High was lying around the gym, recovering from two hours of drills.
Kita, the captain, clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Good work, everyone! I’m going down to the shop to get us some food and drinks. Who wants to come with me?” A moment of silence stretched on in the stuffy gym before everyone moved to clamber up.
“I’ll come”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I need to get some wind.”
“This gym is killing me.”
“It’s way too hot in here.”
Kita did a quick headcount to keep track of who came and who stayed. “Let’s go, and don’t forget your masks!”
Groans were heard around the room before feet began shuffling towards the piles of backpacks and bags in the corner. Once everyone had found their masks, they trailed behind their captain and began trekking down the mountain side. As they made their way down the winding highway, the summer breeze took away the suffocating scent of sweat and rubber, leaving behind the faint smell of wheat. Indeed, Inarizaki High was located at the middle of a small mountain, with the sides and valleys dominated by wheat fields. Given that it was summer, the boys were walking amidst an ocean of gold. To foreign visitors, this would’ve been a sight worthy for the best camera lens in the world; but to the Inarizaki High Volleyball Team, it was a scenery that they saw everyday — nobody paid it special mind. As the team walked, they chatted amongst themselves about the latest developments.
“Do you think Nationals will be held as usual this year?”
“Hopefully. Cases have been going down, haven’t it?”
“Yeah, but wasn’t there reports on the new variation… what was it? Orion?” “Omicron, idiot.”
“What if they cancel Spring Tournaments again this year?”
“Oh god no, I hope they won't. That’ll mean the second years only get one chance to play in the Spring Tournaments!”
“That’s assuming they don’t cancel it next year…”
“That’ll be insane… it’s been two years. We still need to live, you know?” “What do y’all think ‘bout a quick game?”
An absolutely unrelated suggestion ripped through the conversation.
“Excuse me, what?” Kita turned around, slightly bewildered by the unexpected turn of events.
“A game of tag!” Miya Atsumu, the team’s setter who was a year younger than Kita, threw his hands into the air and exclaimed excitedly. “It’s gonna be fun!”
“Atsumu, we are not going to play tag on the highway.” Kita sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Of course, it’s Atsumu that brings this up. Kita mulled to himself. Leave it to Atsumu to come up with the craziest ideas in every situation. The setter was a great kid, but sometimes Kita genuinely wondered if he was capable of the simple task of ‘think before you speak’.
“No, of course not. Why would we play tag on the highway?” Atsumu looked abhorred by the thought. “There’s not even a place to hide!”
That’s what’s stopping you? Kita resisted the urge to facepalm.
“Why would we hide in a game of tag?” Ojiro, the vice-captain asked in confusion. “Because that way the it can’t see where we are, and would have to find us!”
“Isn’t that hide n’ seek ?” Miya Osamu, Atsumu’s younger — and slightly more sensible — twin called lazily from the back.
“Oh… right.” Atsumu looked puzzled for a split moment before regaining his composure. “Then hide n’ seek tag!” he offered, eyes glittering with hope. If he’d been a puppy, he’ll likely be cooed over by the general population; unfortunately, he’s only a high school boy who was in the middle of driving his captain up a wall.
“No, Atsumu.” Kita tried again to voice reason into the younger boy’s thick skull. “We are outside, on the highway. We cannot play anything because there’s nowhere for us to play.” “Sure there is,” Atsumu pointed at the wheat field beside them. “Right here.” Silence enveloped the team.
“Did you honestly just suggest us trespassing into the wheat field and playing a game of whatever-you-just-said right here, right now?” Kita could not believe his ears at this point. “Well, when you put it that way…” Atsumu dragged the end of his sentence in uncertainty. “Trespassing is probably bad… ok, but who actually owns these fields anyways?” He questioned with one eyebrow raised in skepticism. “We don’t see anyone working out here, ever.” “It’s a terrible idea,” Ginjima Hitoshi, one of their wing spikers, opposed. Just when Kita thought he was gaining a reasonable voice on his side, said person continued. “But it does sound fun. I’ve always wanted to play hide and seek in these fields when I was a kid.”
“What if it’s just for a little bit?” Ojiro suggested, his interest and curiosity stirred up by the idea.
The other boys stayed silent, but they were beginning to inch closer to the field. Kita could tell from their expectant glances that they were keen to give the suggestion a try. The young captain was at a loss of words. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be baffled by — the fact
that his team was genuinely entertaining this idea, or that Atsumu just seemed to have no sense of proprietary rights.
“But these fields must be owned by someone, right? It can’t just be wheat sitting here out of nowhere! And we can’t run through it — if we get caught, both the school and the volleyball team will be in trouble! And I don’t want to deal with that kind of consequence! I can’t believe you’re all moved by this — even you, Ojiro?” He stared at his vice-captain in shock.
“Point.” Ojiro nodded good-heartedly. “But you want to try it too, don’t lie.” Ojiro lifted an eyebrow. “Even if someone does own these fields, they’re nowhere in sight. It’ll take at least a good ten minutes for them to get here, and we’ll be able to hear them before they reach us. It’ll be fine… plus, it sounds fun, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, but what if? ” Kita hissed, shooting Atsumu a glare — he started this whole event. Now the entire volleyball team might be pulled under the bus; as the captain, he had a duty to make sure that such misfortunes did not happen .
“ Please , Cap’n” The last time Atsumu had ever looked so earnest was when he forgot to complete his lab report and was begging Suna — one of their middle blockers — to copy him during a morning practice. “It’ll be fun, I swear!”
Kita was about to put his foot down with a harsh ‘no’ when Ojiro slapped a hand over his mouth and hollered at the boys.
“I’ll set a timer for 15 minutes, Kita and I are ‘it’, game will end early if we catch you all before time’s up! Ready! Set! Go!”
“Ojiro!” Kita freed himself and his jaw fell at his vice-captain’s betrayal. He tried to stop the team, but it was too late — the boys had all disappeared into the field, yelling at the top of their lungs.
“Relax! I know your captain's responsibilities and all, but we’re gonna be fine!” Ojiro laughed and began racing down into the field. Realizing that Kita hasn’t moved, he turned and beckoned for the captain to follow. “We’ve all been so stressed about everything — schoolwork, volleyball, graduation, on top of COVID wrecking everything up.” He chuckled a bit and shook his head sadly at the last part. “The boys and especially you deserve to let loose for a while. If you’re really that worried, just catch them quickly and the game’s over!”
Seeing that he was now fighting a lost cause, Kita sighed one last time before chasing after his members into the golden sea. A faint hint of a smile tugged at his lips — Ojiro was right, he was stressed, and the thought did intrigue him. But his need to be a responsible captain prevented him from voicing it aloud. Ojiro did the dirty work for him in allowing the team to run wild, and since there’s no salvaging the situation, he might as well go all out and enjoy this moment of freedom.
***
By the time Grandpa had finished his story, the group of teenagers had already packed themselves back into the Phloater and flew off into the distance.
Little Aoko waited for a while and when she was sure that Grandpa wouldn’t speak again, she asked, “So, did the team get into trouble in the end?”
Grandpa’s eyes were closed, the bright, afternoon sun was a bit too stunning for him now. “I don’t remember.” He mused. “I only remember the hot summer air, the tickling sensation of wheat plants scratching my arms and legs, and the shrieks of my teammates as I lunged for them in the dirt. That was the year I graduated. Many of the boys left for Kyoto and Tokyo. Aran, Atsumu, and Suna went on and played professionals. You can probably still find their information as retired members who once represented Japan in the Olympics. Osamu is actually the founder of Onigiri Miya . I stayed because I was into agriculture, and I am now the ‘nameless owner’ of those wheat fields. Funny, isn’t it? How the tides turn?”
Little Aoko looked out into the sea of golden plants that seemed to stretch on and into the sky. Her mind blanking a little bit because this was somehow the first time she realized that Grandpa knows famous people like professional athletes and the owner of Ongiri Miya? That chain restaurant is all over Japan these days — she’d expected it to be some old thing like McDonalds or something. Who knew it was only around for fifty or so years?
“Then what about your teammates now?” she blurted out before her sensibility caught her. “Do they know you now own the fields?”
Grandpa let out a brief chuckle. “Of course they do! Just because we didn’t have your BlobNet — or whatever it’s called — doesn’t mean we didn’t have a means of communication! Back in my days, we had something called WiFi and Cellular Data. My boys would call and text me all the time! They still do! And for a long time, my rice here was the sole provider for ‘Samu’s place. They had to outsource only in the past fifteen years or so — after it got too big and I got too old.”
“It’s GlobeNet, Grandpa.” Little Aoko subconsciously corrected the old man whenever the topic was brought up. Like many elderlies, Granpa just never got the hang of modern technology. He still held onto those Apple products from way back when — silly name for a technology brand if you’d ask her.
“Sure, sure. GlobeNet.”
The two fell into a comfortable silence for some time after that.
“Have you heard of that saying?” Grandpa started suddenly.
“What saying?”
“That when one person does something stupid, that’s called stupidity. But when three or more people do something stupid, that’s called youth .” Grandpa’s voice was soft and distant, as if he was speaking not entirely to her.
Little Aoko looked over at Grandpa, the old man looked like he could fall asleep any moment now. Realizing that she might now be disturbing Grandpa’s afternoon rest, Little Aoko stood and excused herself to go home. Grandpa insisted on seeing her out, so she helped him up and to the door.
On her way home, Little Aoko stepped to the side to give way to a group of old men making their way towards and past her. She turned and peered at them with curiosity — she had grown up in this little place and had known all the grandpas and grandmas from the neighbourhoods, but she doesn’t think she’s seen these men before. Two of these grandpas seem eerily similar to each other.
Much to her surprise, the grandpas turned into Grandpa’s yard and a series of loud knocks were heard. Out of curiosity, she tiptoed back and peeked in from the outside gate. “Kita-san! Are you in?” The grandpa standing at the very front croaked, clearly the one who had just done the knocking.
“Not so loud, ‘Tsumu!” The one who looked eerily similar to knocking-grandpa wheezed and frowned at the noise.
Little Aoko’s eyes widened — Grandpa just mentioned one of his volleyball teammate’s names was Miya Atsumu! Then this must be Grandpa’s volleyball team!
Grandpa Atsumu looked like he was about to retort when the door flew open. “Cap’n!” Miya ginned a toothless grin, throwing his wrinkled arms around his ex-captain. Kita hugged him back, looking livelier than Little Aoko ever remembered him looking. “Welcome, welcome, everyone!” Kita’s voice trembled with excitement. “Come in, come in.”
Then the doors closed in on decades of memories and reminiscence of the youth that was never lost.