“―That’s all I have to share about my experience.”

When I declared this as though I was closing up a picture-story show I had just finished reading, dozens of shaved heads who were lying on their backs or sitting on the futon on my left, right, and front sides of the room were all exclaiming, “Wow! Oh, wow. Ooh. Hah!” They heaved a sigh simultaneously.

Phew… Apparently, they were finally satisfied, which was a relief.

I never expected that I would be narrating this story from beginning to end…

That horrifyingly sentimental story. It was an unforgettable experience I had in the summer of my 25th year, a strange and bizarre story.

For years, I have recounted this story to my adorable students who were members of the baseball team.

It all began when I accidentally slipped it out during a night of ghost stories at a summer camp. The boys, who were scaredy-cats but enjoyed such stories, were quite taken with my storytelling and the content of my stories. Consequently, “Coach Hakamada’s Super Scary Story Tournament” has taken over as a regular event at the annual summer camp.

Everyone was a bit worn out even though it had been a while since I had last shared the story, but they turned off the lights and crowded around me, listening beneath the futons, periodically shouting and screaming in terror and then asking me anxiously, “What happened next?” urging me to continue. These guys reacted in a cute way every time.

As a narrator, I was content if they were thrilled with my story.

After hearing my narrative, the club members exhaled a breath of relief, but instead of scattering to their own futons, they hurried up to me, seemingly unable to cool down from the excitement.

“Holy crap! That’s really scary! I’m surprised you’re still alive, Coach!”

“You’ve been sweating your hands, man, it’s gross.”

“…I can’t go to the bathroom at night. Hey, let’s go to sleep with the light on.”

“Idiot, of course Coach made that up! He’s so brilliant at telling stories!”

“What? You don’t believe me?”

“I mean, there’s no proof.”

“You don’t believe in such things?”

“Specters don’t exist.”

Those nostalgic words unintentionally elicited a laugh from me. No matter how cheeky they were, I wouldn’t be offended. Every year, there were invariably two groups: those who believe in it and those who don’t.

“Hey, hey! Coach Masamune!”

“Coach Masamune!”“Hey, I told you to call me ‘Grand Coach Hakamada,’ didn’t I?”

“Is there another story?”

“No! Get to bed already!”

Did you guys know what time was it now? If you didn’t go to bed, Teacher Kinoshita would lose his temper.

I caught a few of the kids in a crowd and gave them headbutts.

Jeez, middle schoolers possessed an endless supply of energy, huh? I was about to get really sleepy. Because I had an early start tomorrow.

With a huge yawn, I urged them to go to the futon one by one.

“Then, next time, let’s talk about Coach’s love story!” said the smallest boy who was positioned between my legs.

“Oh! That’s great!”

“I want to hear about that girl named Hyuga!”

“How attractive was she?”

“Who does she resemble if she’s a celebrity?”

“Did she have big boobs?

“If she were alive today, would she be married?”

These guys… When left alone, they did whatever they wanted.

“You guys… are all going to run together from now on. Around a hundred laps or so.”

When in trouble, I said this one word.

The pupils fled to the futon as if they were spiders, or rather, as fast as cockroaches disperse. Sitting cross-legged, I snorted and warned them to go back to sleep even if I left.

One of them, still undaunted, raised his hand and said, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Kobayashi, I wondered if you couldn’t sleep unless you got a giant swing from me.

“Then Coach! Did you like Hyuga?”

I was about to complain, but then he asked me that, to which I responded with a look that said it was inevitable.“Yeah, I liked her.”

Because she was a wonderful person.

“That’s! You mean romantically?”

“Of course… it’s a secret!”

After confirming that all of the people who were making disgruntled noises like, “Ugh,” had finally gotten into the futon, I was about to get up, when one of them suddenly screamed and shoved the futon off. Right then, the guys who had struggled so hard to get back under the futon jumped up and started yelling, and they all came back toward me again.

“What the hell! Don’t startle me, you idiot!”

“I-Ieeee!”

“Don’t mess with me! What!”

“Footsteps just came down the hallway!!”

“Hallway!?”

When we all listened carefully, indeed, we could hear what sounded like footsteps clacking at a strange tempo reverberating from the corridor and approaching us.

“It’s the security guard, isn’t it?”

“There’s no security guard in this run-down place!”

“I-Isn’t it a specter!?”

“D-Don’t say such a serious thing!”

Footsteps creaking on the old floorboards became gradually louder and louder, and when they came very close to the door, everyone in the room fell silent.

“…Isn’t it really a specter…”

With anxious expressions on their faces, my students squeezed my sides and tugged at my pajamas with their slender arms.magic

“Coach…!”

As they seemed to be on the verge of panic, I was reminded of myself in the past and tried to reassure them with a smile.

“It’s going to be okay, guys.”

Stretching out my arms as far as I could, I wrapped them tightly around me.

“If anything should happen, at that time―” I remarked confidently, putting all my strength into it so that no one would ever be separated from me. “I will absolutely protect you.”