The Life of a Baseball Player (a novel and animation video) (Patreon)

My childhood memories were all scenes of my parents apologizing for human rent demands.

'Your wife is still young, maybe if you let her work she'll be somewhat better off!

A huge human hand that had entered through the window grabbed my mother in an eagle grip, and my father was on his knees, crying and begging for forgiveness.

He stared at us crying brothers and sisters.

You don't have any money to raise me, you make kids like rats.... You really are tinies...."

The human landlord tossed the mother into the room like garbage, then withdrew his hand from the window and moved on to urging another private room.

Our family lives in one of the human rooms in a row of tinies housing boxes. The landlord, I suppose, also rents this room.

At the time when I was a child, that landlord looked like an ogre or a devil, but now I think he may have been quite generous.

When he came to collect the garbage or operate the air conditioner, he would wave back at the children who waved at him from the square, looking embarrassed.

It was nothing but kindness that he had put up a small park in an empty corner with playground equipment for children to play.

Besides, I heard that it is very difficult to manage rental housing for tinies. They do not earn much rent, but they have to protect these delicate tinies, who are easily taken and eaten by cats and crows.

If even a single cat were to be released into this room, all the tenants would be wiped out and the rental business would be back to square one.

Even though I am running such a difficult rental business, I am still able to keep my parents, who are behind on their rent, from being thrown out of the house.

As a side note, there is no end to the malicious business practices of selling tinies housing boxes on loan with a flicker of unearned income among humans. That landlord may have been a victim of this as well.

It is also true that people say, "He had a baby with no money....

Both parents worked as line workers in factories from one place to another. It was manual labor for unskilled tinies.

They did not earn much money, but they had many siblings, and the older siblings took care of the younger siblings, not the parents.

It may have been their intention to have their children take care of them in their old age with no guarantees, but they never seemed to do anything for their own parents.

By the time I graduated from junior high school, I had begun to distinguish between the landlord and my parents.

My brothers and I would go to school on weekdays.

Of course, if we walked outside, we would be easy prey for cats, crows, and kidnapped tinies, so we relied on tinies carriers.

A human would drop off the tinies in a box with a shoulder strap at the stop, wait for the tinies to get in, and then carry them back on his back to the next stop, just like a delivery man.

Tinies-carrying bus with a self-propelled tinies-carrying box was once introduced, but it is said that there were a number of incidents in which the entire bus was taken by kidnappers.

They wait at a waiting area near the stop to be picked up from the school. In the meantime, people from various companies come to pick up their tinies' employees. It is that dangerous for tinies to walk outside.

At the school, they climb the stairs to desks lined up for humans and attend classes.

Dozens of tinies are seated at desks at the front of the classroom, while human students sit in the remaining seats. In terms of numbers, the tinies outnumber the human students by far, but the space they occupy goes without saying.

Teachers and students at the school treat the tinies as if they do not exist.

It is not mean-spirited or anything, but perhaps they really don't see them. It doesn't matter if they are nice to tinies or tease them, they have nothing to gain and it's a waste of time.

But for some dropouts, they were good toys.

Human delinquents would pick up the tinies during recess to pass the time and make fun of them.

They played catch with the tinies, used them as eraser targets, or scribbled on them with a sign pen.

It was not uncommon for tinies to be taken as playthings and never returned.

It is a common occurrence for tinies to disappear.

Why are humans so different from tinies?

My parents taught me that it was because my grandparents' generation chose to live as tinies, but I could not understand why.

Why in the world did they abandon their privileged human position and become tinies?

When I learned about modern history in social studies class, I learned how it happened.

Fifty years ago, the government had recommended the use of tinies as a national project.

At the time, Japan was concerned about a population explosion, and the supply of various necessities such as food, energy, and shelter was not keeping pace with the increase in population.

In order to solve these problems at once, the government adopted a national policy of turning humans into tinies.

According to state propaganda, tinies would live in safe shelters, be comfortable in their relative abundance of space and resources, and be eternally wealthy due to a host of other privileges.

And so the population problem went away, spurring many citizens into irreversible tinies.

However, numerous problems were highlighted.

First, the working population had plummeted. The labor productivity of the tinies was low, dragging down the economy.

On the other hand, tinies exploded in population within the shelters due to economic and spatial affordability. Fecundity and rapid generational change were also observed, resulting in a phenomenon derisively called "ratification.

The shortage of laborers increases the opportunities for tinies to go outside the shelter to work. As a result, the number of fatal accidents involving contact between tinies and humans increased.

At first, fatal accidents were treated seriously even with tinies, but the resulting arrests caused the human prisons to be overcrowded.

In addition, not only the prisons but also the police had become dysfunctional. Too many resources were being devoted to cases of missing tinies (mostly small predators).

In order to maintain investigative manpower, there was a move to appoint a tiny investigator who specialized in tinies cases, but every single one of them went missing.

Eventually, the government was forced to take action, such as lightening the sentences for the deaths of tinies and terminating investigations into missing tinies prematurely.

As the deaths of tinies began to be treated less lightly, the fact that they were given equal suffrage with humans drew criticism.

It did not take long for restrictions to be placed on the suffrage of tinies, who were already regarded as the cancer of the state.

Today, under a law known as the "Law of One-Tenth Sufficiency," the rights of tinies are limited to about one-tenth of those of humans (at the time of its implementation, "one-fourth").

(What was "one-fourth" when it first became operational has become stricter over the years, but is still criticized as being too large.)

Through this lesson, the students learned the true nature of the light treatment of tinies that they felt every day.

I can never forget what the social studies teacher said with a laugh during this lesson.

The tinies should think carefully about how they can contribute to human society. The time may come when we will have to exterminate all tinies as vermin, you know?"

Due to restrictions on the employment of tinies, the percentage of tinies staffing high schools is small.

Although the elementary school is the only place where tinies and humans are separated, after that, the law prohibits separate education.

This is because in the future, tinies are expected to contribute to the human economy, rather than remaining in the small-scale economy among tinies.

As a result, even in this high school, where most of the students are tinies in terms of numbers, the facilities are designed to be human-centered.

For the tinies students, school life was survival. However, refusal to attend school is naturally not allowed for the reasons mentioned above. The parents of the tinies were so afraid of being punished by the state that they would literally kill them to send them to school.

Fortunately, however, I was rarely a target of humans.

I was on the baseball team.

Even the delinquent students would not touch the tinies in the baseball team for fear of offending the baseball team members.

Even tinies can join the club as a student. Rather, everyone takes the initiative to participate.

Sports are one of the few opportunities for tinies to turn their lives around.

In many professions, as mentioned above, one is expected to be "useful to humans" and work like a cart horse under a gigantic human being.

In sports, on the other hand, the competition is clearly divided between humans and tinies. It is the only profession that is not compared to humans.

Tinies are usually treated as if they do not exist, but humans are also enthusiastic about tiny sports. The art of playing is an art that fascinates even humans, as it is performed by athletes selected from the overwhelmingly large population of tinies.

For the children of tinies, who do not have a bright future ahead of them, they are one of the few stars of hope. It was the same for me.

In one corner of the human baseball field, there is a corner surrounded by a fine-grained net. The purpose is to protect them from human balls.

Hundreds of tinies train in this area.

The tinies are coached by a number of highly skilled coaches, all of whom are former professional tinies.

In a society where life is so hard even for tinies, the fact that they are able to hold regular jobs for so long is proof of the privileged status of those who have made their mark in tinysports.

I had been playing baseball since elementary school and was determined to become a professional tinies baseball player.

I definitely did not want to be one of the losing tinies like my parents.

Fortunately, the tinies baseball club here seemed to be very strong, and I was asked to make a tough commitment when I joined the club.

The only people who were asked were those who "really want to make a name for themselves in baseball and are willing to die if they can't do it! This is not a threat!

For me, those words were also convenient. I had exactly that kind of spirit.

In fact, during my first six months in the club, we practiced incredibly hard, and a number of first-year students quit.

Even so, I persevered in practice. I was really prepared to die.

But recently, I was falling behind because of the tremendous growth of the people around me.

I swung the bat desperately to appeal to the coach.

At that time, a good friend of mine, Asada, who was watching me, approached me and said, "Hey, Yamatomo, come here for a minute.

Hey, Yamatomo, come here for a minute."

I didn't want the coach to see me leave practice, but his expression was so serious that I followed him to the corner of the court.

Asada-senpai, who was facing me, had an unusually stern expression on his face and was swallowing his words over and over again.

Finally, Asada's words came out of his mouth and were unexpected.

Sanyu...you should quit the baseball team.

Why?

I was so surprised that my emotions came out in my voice.

"Quiet...!

Asada rushed to control me.

I can't go into details. I can't tell you the details, but I can tell you that your coach is already watching you. If you quit now, it's not too late..."

He chose his words falteringly.

I don't want to... it hasn't even been six months since I joined the club..! I can still do my best...! Why do you say that!

As I pressed him, Asada-senpai began to panic as he looked around.

I said, "Okay, okay! All right, that's enough!"

Senpai's expression seemed to turn pale as he spotted the coach looking in our direction.

I'm sorry...I couldn't say anything..."

Asada-senpai said and left as if running away.

After that, I put in a lot of effort in practicing, paying attention to what Asada-senpai had said.

If he was right, I had to work even harder. There was no way I was going to quit the baseball team.

Then, I saw a huge spike approaching from the human field.

The coach of the human side of the baseball team cast a huge shadow over the tinies' baseball team and peeked inside.

He said, "Hey, Coach. I'm about to start the example. Starting this month, for a year, too."

The coach, who usually leaves the tinies' club activities to the coaches, stared down at the tinies.

The director comes to call on the tinies about once a month.

For the past six months, it has been limited to second- and third-year students....

We first-year students were scared of the unfamiliar coach, and the older students were even shaking.

Following the coach, over a hundred tinies gathered in front of the coach's bench.

But when the coach sat down on the bench and spread his legs, all the tinies could fit between his legs.

The coach flopped down on the bench and looked down at his team members,

"Begin," he said.

The coach responded.

The coach responded with a grim look on his face.

We're going to start the continuity test now!

The second and third year students said, "Yes! the second and third graders responded as best they could in a shaky, hoarse voice.

The second and third graders answered as best they could in shaky voices, "The members who will be called up from now on should come forward! The coach will personally conduct a physical fitness test!

The first-year students were puzzled by this order, which they were hearing for the first time.

First, second-year student Shogo Asada!

The second-year students let out a gasp. I was surprised, too. It was the very same senior who had called out to me earlier.

I...no...!

You told the first-years about this test, didn't you? I told you that you were not to inform the first year about this until after the first test! Step forward!

Uh...oh no!

Asada-senpai tried to run away from the scene.

He tried to flee the scene! Seize him!"

The surrounding classmates seemed to be wondering whether to seize him or not.

Asada managed to escape through the crowd.

However, the director's hand reached out from above and caught him easily.

You're an idiot, aren't you? You were told to do this, but you just told it all away? Hmm~?"

The director lifted the frightened and screaming Asada up to his face.

He was so frightened that he lifted Asada-senpai up to his face and said, "Well, calm down. I'll let you off the hook if you have the ability to overturn that rule-breaking."

The director pinched Asada's legs with his fingertips and hung him upside down.

Look, sit-ups."

Asada's face turned red as she began to do sit-ups.

It was unbelievable that he could keep doing sit-ups in that position. Thinking back, the seniors of the second and third years frequently did sit-ups in that position.

Eventually, however, Asada's seniors reached their limits.

The coach looked at him horribly cold.

He said, "He'll have to try a hundred more times before I'll let him break the rules."

But Asada could not raise his upper body even a millimeter.

The director fished him up high and opened his mouth wide.

Then he threw it head first into his mouth.

What...?"

Everyone in the first year, including me, could not believe the sight.

The director gulped and swallowed, and there was no Asada-senpai in his mouth.

Asada-senpai's presence vanished so quickly.

The first-years were shaken, some were cowed, and some tried to run away.

But the coach shouted.

Anyone who tries to run away now will suffer the same fate!

For the next year, some cried and others slumped down, but no one ran away.

I told you to come into this baseball team prepared to die!

The reason I did not reveal the existence of this test at the beginning was that those who found out about it would be left with no choice but to continue with the baseball team or die....

So, for the past six months, I have been seriously squeezing you with the intention of testing your readiness to die, even though I did not reveal the existence of the test.

From now on, I'll be assigning a test every month for first-year students as well, for those with lower grades.

And this month is the first of those!"

The explanation was barely audible to the first-years.

But as the second and third years began to be called up, the full extent of the test was undeniably in their eyes.

One after another, seniors whose grades were deemed poor were lifted up by the director to perform similar sit-ups.

As if to put pressure on them, the director hung the club members, their tongues hanging out with their big mouths open under them.

The seniors performed quite a few times and escaped execution by the director.

But then one of the seniors said.

'What, are you done? Hey, show some guts."

The director poked the upside-down senior with his finger to inspire him.

But the senior was swaying in the air and had no strength left to raise his upper body.

It can't be helped."

The director said and sucked the senior head first.

The senior's legs were flailing about, but he was slowly pulled down into his mouth, and with a gurgling sound, all was quiet.

Finally, it was the freshman's turn.

First year, Ryohei Yamatomo! Ryohei Yamatomo!

That was my name.

I stepped forward on shaky legs.

The coach said in a voice that only I could hear.

Sorry.... We're risking our lives too. Hang in there..."

As I stood there shaking, the coach's thick hands came up to me and picked me up.

I thought practice was tough. I'm sure you worked hard to get through it.

 Well, it's your first year, so I'll forgive you if you can do 10 sit-ups. Keep up the good work."

The coach's voice was surprisingly soft when I heard it up close, but the way he looked at me, I didn't feel as if he were a living being with the same heart.

The mouth that opened with each word had swallowed many a baseball player before.

The tongue that flickered behind my lips seemed like an eerie evil spirit of the mountains and rivers.

I was hanging upside down, facing away from the coach, but my still, moist breath hit me from behind, and the steam rising from my huge tongue told me more clearly than the eye could see about my current situation.

I begin to do sit-ups frantically. But my body is shaking and I can't get any strength into it.

I tried desperately to raise myself up, thinking I had already done it dozens of times, but the hot air coming from behind me frightened me out of my power.

I found myself hanging in mid-air, breathing shallowly and repeatedly as if I had forgotten how to put strength into my abdominal muscles.

Then I felt a hot object on my back.

The director's tongue lifted my back.

With the help of the tongue, I managed to raise my upper body, but I was at my limit.

The director sighed as I slumped down again.

Suddenly my body was lifted and a sticky hot tongue wrapped around my face.

It continued to slide over my tongue as I fell into the darkness.

The air around me changed drastically, and I felt the inside of a human body, isolated from the outside world.

My fingers released their grip on my legs, and I tried desperately to resist, but the tongue and lips sucked me in, and I felt my upper body tighten around my throat.

I fell into the pitch-dark, air-filled space and came to rest.

My consciousness slowly faded away in the hell of being surrounded by absolute walls of flesh that I had no intention of resisting.

I wondered if the slight touch I felt was the wall of the coach's stomach, or the corpses of the older players who had been eaten before me.

I ended my life in the belly of the manager as a tiny, regretting my faint dream of becoming a tinies baseball player.

https://youtu.be/RZQA9JPUD2I