Episode 7 – Fortune in the Watermelon Contest
It’s August in Sunahara Town. The summer heat turns the air soft; everyone slows down, even the cicadas. 17-year-old Yuuji Namikawa stares at a wrinkled sign stuck to the town board: Watermelon Smashing Contest – Main Beach, August 14th. ‘Winner gets a prize you’ll never guess.’ Is that meant to tease? To inspire? Does anyone really care about contests like this?
Yuuji cares. His best friend Tomo jokes he doesn’t even like watermelon. Yuuji wants the prize. No, he admires the hope that comes with it: maybe something will change for good, if he just tries. Yuuji’s grown up with little to lean on but stories in his worn manga. His mother works too many hours. He worries the world won’t ever hand him anything solid.
But at the event sign-up, Yuuji isn’t alone. Rui, that odd third-year who dresses like a seventies detective, is playing it cool. Sora, Sakura in hand, munches her lunch under the awning. “Prizes at these things are weak,” Tomo mutters. Even the old lady running the board says, “It’s just a basket of summer luck, but there may be a twist!” Do prizes even matter now? If you were in Yuuji’s shoes, would you bother fighting for a basket in front of everyone?
Practice is wild. The beach gets loud–bats hit sand, not fruit, and blindfolds slip. Rui is strange–his grip on the bat is all wrong, but he never hesitates. Is shouting encouragement really helpful? Tomo thinks he’s better at aiming insults at his rival, the soccer club’s ace. “I just want one thing announced at my graduation,” Tomo says, and it’s funny but he’s almost serious.
Night practice follows. Yuuji and Sora walk home in lazy moonlight. There’s a neat trick to tracking the stars across the sky. “Fortune’s what you name it,” Sora says. Simple as that, yet it sits on Yuuji’s mind. Would you let words hint at luck, or look for a sign yourself?
The day of the contest, drums rattle along the shore. Sora snags the club sash and wears it over pajamas just to be different. Rui stays cool, lost in big headphones. The soccer club builds their last fort from beach mats. Better teams? Sure. Better network in town? Probably. What drives people? Is it the glory or the need for others to see you?
Yuuji’s first crack at the watermelon is a full miss. Tomo’s up; he teases the right line, hits a driftwood log, curses in a squeak. Cheers morph into groans. Then Sora steps forward, threw her shoes and the game at the sand, swings low and—splits a watermelon clean in two. Juice glints on her hands. She laughs at the mess.
Final round. It’s Yuuji and Kazuto, soccer ace. Reviewers from the paper hover by the water, hints of rain nearby. Rui cues music in his headphones. “Don’t choke up, hero,” Tomo mouths. The bat shakes in Yuuji’s hand. He remembers: small luck coded into everyday steps. This isn’t just about the contest—he’s proving to himself he shows up.
Hold breath. Yuuji swings. Crack. He splits his target—clean, dramatic. Crowd pauses in surprise, then erupts. The old lady host waves the prize—it’s an envelope, not a basket. Won’t say what’s inside. Drama sticks as tension hangs. 
The episode stops right here: Yuuji, hands damp, reaching for the thin white envelope. The feeling in the sand. Sora’s eyes wide. Rui turns up his music. Crowd draws close. What’s the prize—fortune, good or not, folded inside, or another kind of test?
