trigger happy team (danganronpa baseball AU)

-2-

Leon unlocked the door with a spare key. The scent of alcohol instantly filled his nose, and he coughed harshly. "I'm home." he groaned in a low voice. He heard a click of a remote in the living room. His father stumbled out into the hall soon after that. 

His father was in his forties. He wore a gray, stained shirt almost everyday, and you could smell him from a mile away. The man's head was bald since he'd shaved off all his hair a few weeks ago.

"Leon, good timing." The old man slurred. "Listen, I've got an email from that recreational league in Tokyo that's lookin' for players your age. I'm signing you up to play with some of those college guys in a month or so-"

"I can't, dad. I've got some other stuff to do. Besides, I don't want to fly to one of those preppy colleges again just for baseball." His father looked at him with disgust.

"Whaddaya mean you can't? You're playing and that's final."

"It's just a rec league. It's not like it's the world series or something!" Leon stormed off to his room and shut the door behind him. Releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, he slumped into his office chair and took out his homework.

His desk wasn't quite messy. It just had a few stray papers and candy wrappers here and there. A sticky note was plastered onto the top of his textbook. 

Pg. 543, it read. Answers on the back.

Leon flipped over the sticky note and saw an array of solutions to every question on the page. A cheat sheet. Nice.

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It was 4:03 pm. Leon still had a lot of time to work, and he wouldn't be called down for dinner any time soon. So, he decided to get some practice in.

He tugged his jacket off and threw it into a corner of his room. Then, he shrugged off his jeans and did the same. Leon rummaged through his closet before deciding on a gray t-shirt and shorts. His shoes were dirty and old, but he wore them anyway. 

Leon sneaked down to the basement and grabbed his practice bat. Since they weren't allowed to use metal bats in games, he used it for BP. The bat was a two-piece, composite DeMarini. He'd used this bat obsessively in middle school. The tape was teared and dirty, and the barrel was dented.

He hopped on his bike and placed the bat on his lap. Stuffing his batting gloves into his back pocket, he started pedaling down the road. Leon was going to the town fields. They had batting cages open almost all day, so he figured he'd set up the tee and focus on his swings and footing.

Pulling into the parking lot, he heard the laughter of kids and the shouts of parents coming from a minors field. The minor league was ages 8 to 10, so whenever that field was occupied, you couldn't hear yourself think. Leon hit the brakes and slowed to a stop next to the dirt path leading towards the fields. The batting cages were a short walk from the parking lot, to the right of the seniors field.

One of the batting cages was occupied by a teenage girl and her dad. They were doing softball pitches. He took the empty one and put together the provided tee. As Leon predicted, someone left a half bucket of balls, so he dragged them over to the batters box. 

After placing a ball on the tee, he held his bat over his back shoulder and set his elbows, pushing his right one out and tucking the other into his side. He adjusted his hands so his knuckles lined up. Then, he set his feet shoulder width apart and winded up by lifting his front foot.

He concentrated on the ball, imagined the pitcher letting it release from his grip, pictured the ball coming at him at impressive speed. Then, with a swift turn of his back ankle, he stepped forwards and swung the bat at full force. He shifted his weight onto his front leg at the last moment. A satisfying crack came from the bat as he watched it ricochet off the barrel like lightning.