Ken shot up out of bed, breathing heavily. His whole body was soaked in sweat and his right arm was dead. The sensation of pins and needles ran up his arm as the blood circulated once more.
His mind tried to process what he'd just experienced, but he had no words. The hurt that he felt was real, even if it was just a dream, seeing Ai look at him like that had all but broken him.
The appearance of the child who looked just like her was also shocking.
"Was this an alternate reality? Or was it the future?" Ken asked, hoping that it was neither. His throat was dry and his body was wet with sweat, he felt gross.
'Mika, what is happening to me?' He asked.
[User currently has a 102 degree fever.]
"A fever!?" Ken cried out.
This was the most important workout of his life so far, there was no way that this was happening. Even as he stood up, Ken felt light headed.
"Isn't there anything you can do Mika?"
[Answer: Drink plenty of fluids and get rest.]
Ken blinked a few times, not even bothering to respond to such a thing. He had been feeling fine the night before, so why did he have a fever all of a sudden?
'How long will it take for this fever to go away?' Ken asked.
[Answer: Approximately 1 to 2 days.]
'And can I work out during this time?'
[Mika recommends that you do not.]
"Damn it!"
Ken was already in a bad state of mind after the dream, but now his body was failing him. To think that he would get sick on the day he was meant to work out for a major league team.
"I'll just have to do it…" Ken mumbled, making his way over to the shower.
He took a lukewarm shower and began to shiver. Quickly washing himself, he hopped out and got dry before it got any worse.
Ken got dressed in his baseball pants and wore a Nikey top, grabbing his bag and leaving the room while he still could. As he made his way down the elevator to the bottom floor, he was going through the workout schedule.
'The batting is first which should be fine. The pitching and the physical drills might be the hardest part.' He thought, debating on whether he should tell the coaches.
Once he left the hotel, he walked across the road to the stadium. After handing over the pass that he'd received from the coaching staff weeks before, he was let into PNC Park.
On another day he might have admired the grounds, but he was too busy trying to remain on his feet. Ken took a few gulps of room temperature water and looked around for the coach.
A man in his early 40's was nearby. He had a clipboard and a whistle around his neck with a short well-maintained beard that suited his face.
"Hi coach." Ken called out, making his way over.
The man turned to him and his expression lit up, "Oh hey, you must be Ken. I'm Mitch Hague, the hitting coach." He said, extending his hand.
Ken grabbed the hand and shook it firmly letting out a small smile.
Coach Hague frowned slightly, "I guess you must be nervous." He said, taking back his hand and wiping it on his pants.
'Ah crap… My hands are sweaty.' Ken realized too late.
"Er, yeah sorry about that coach." He said wearing a sheepish grin.
However, the coach looked at him closely, narrowing his eyes, "Man, you don't look so good. Are you okay?"
Ken froze, "Haha, yeah I'm fine. Just had some trouble sleeping you know…"
The coach didn't respond right away, giving him a suspicious look. "Well okay. Why don't you head over to the batting cages so we can test out your swing." He said.
"Sure thing coach." Ken replied, letting out a sigh of relief inwardly.
It wasn't until he was halfway to the cages that he realized what he was doing. Why didn't he just admit that he had a fever? Wouldn't whatever results he got here affect his overall score?
"Um, coach." Ken called out.
"Yep, what's up?"
"Um, actually I have a bit of a fever, that's why my palms were sweaty. I figured I should probably disclose that before we start the drills." Ken admitted.
Coach Hague turned around and looked at him. "Thanks for telling me the truth… You know your body best, do you think you can still go through with today's drills?"
Ken nodded, "I think I might be okay with batting and pitching, but ideally I'd stay away from the physical drills. Or, if you like I can come back in a few days and do everything."
The coach considered it for a few moments before nodding, "Let's check out your swing and get some metrics for your pitches. If you're struggling let me know and we'll reschedule."
"Thank you coach." Ken said, letting out a sigh of relief.
He was then led to the batting cages where a camera was set up. It was similar to the one that he'd seen at the Perfect Game Showcase which measured hitting form efficiency and exit velocity.
Back then he had scored a lousy 58% but his exit velocity was quite high for a High School player. Now that he had tightened up his form, Ken had high hopes.
As he stepped into the cage and looked at the tee-ball. He grabbed a nearby bat and waited for the go ahead from the trainers behind the laptop.
"When you're ready Ken." They said.
He gave them a thumbs up and stepped up to the plate. He performed his usual ritual before getting into position. He still felt rather crap, but this was no time to pull any punches.
WHOOOOOSH
THWACK!
"Okay, very good. Let's get a few more for comparison please." One of them directed.
Ken nodded and retrieved the ball.
WHOOOSH
THWACK