Sawamura watched as Kariba Wataru tapped his right arm twice.
A signal.
Kariba immediately understood and set his mitt.
Low outside.
A moving fastball.
Coach Kataoka’s eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed the target.
Can he really hit that spot?
On the mound, Sawamura began his motion.
Masuko stared intently.
He still couldn’t see the release point.
The white ball suddenly shot toward the outside corner.
“Strike.”
A brief silence followed.
Low and outside—right on the edge.
A perfect corner pitch.
Tight control.
Sharp movement.
And stronger than before.
“Whoa… that first-year can hit corners like that?”
“Hey, didn’t I say he wasn’t normal?”
“You’re only saying that now…”
But unlike the spectators, the upperclassmen on the field immediately understood.
He hadn’t been serious before.
That realization made their expressions darken.
“Masuko!
Crush him!”
Voices rang from the dugout.
Takashima Rei, Director Ota, and Coach Kataoka all had their eyes fixed on the mound.
This level—
He could already enter the First String.
The second pitch came immediately.
High inside.
Masuko swung—
Foul!
“Inside and outside… he’s controlling both corners.”
Someone muttered in disbelief.
Masuko exhaled slowly.
A faint pressure was building in his chest.
It had been a long time since he felt this kind of pressure from a first-year.
This guy… is serious.
Sawamura didn’t waste time.
No unnecessary buildup.
No hesitation.
Third pitch.
Straight fastball.
Right down the middle.
The ball exploded out of his hand.
Faster than before—around 135 km/h.
And it didn’t drop.
From the batter’s perspective, it felt closer to 140.
Masuko swung.
Whiff.
“Strikeout!”
A wave of shock swept through the field.
Not because Masuko was just any batter—
And he had been completely beaten.
The stadium noise faded slightly as realization set in.
This wasn’t luck.
This wasn’t a fluke inning.
This was real ability.
The next two cleanup hitters followed the same pattern.
Corner control.
Then the fastball.
Three outs.
Clean.
Efficient.
Merciless.
Nine innings ended quickly.
Final score: 21–1.
As dusk fell, spectators began to leave.
“Seido’s batting is still insane…”
“But those two freshmen—Furuya and Sawamura—they’re something else.”
“If Seido has pitching like that now, Koshien might not be a dream this year.”
At Seishin Dormitory.
Kuramochi raised an eyebrow.
“So you’re back in the starting lineup tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Masuko replied, holding up a V-sign.
“After getting struck out today, I thought I was done for.”
He laughed.
“But that Sawamura kid… he’s strong.
He’ll be in First String training soon for sure.”
Kuramochi snorted.
“And here I was thinking I’d beat him up a little when we got back.”
They opened the dormitory door.
Inside—
Sawamura was calmly eating Masuko’s pudding.
While watching Kuramochi’s training tapes.
A silence fell.
“…What are you doing, Sawamura?”
Kuramochi’s voice was flat.
Sawamura looked up innocently.
“Hm?
Studying seniors and replenishing energy.”
He took another spoonful of pudding.
Kuramochi slowly rolled up his sleeves.
“…I’m going to regret not stopping him earlier.”
“You bastard!
You just played a little better today and you’re already getting arrogant?
Damn it!”
Kuramochi’s flying kick sent Sawamura sprawling to the floor before he immediately followed up with a merciless series of close-quarters “lessons.”
Meanwhile, Masuko calmly picked up an empty pudding cup from the scattered mess.
“…My pudding,” he muttered.
Just then, Sawamura’s phone rang.
Kuramochi’s expression darkened instantly.
“Oh?
Who’s this?”
Before Sawamura could react, Kuramochi snatched the phone and opened it.
“Hey!
That’s from my partner—” Sawamura struggled desperately.
There was only one person who would message him at this time. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
If Kuramochi saw it, things would only get worse.
“Your partner, huh?
Let me see.”
Kuramochi read aloud:
“How was today, Eijun?
Are you satisfied with your pitching?
Everyone here is practicing really hard too.
Even though that goal still feels out of reach for us, we’re all looking forward to the day you stand on the Koshien pitcher’s mound.
We’ll be cheering for you from afar.
Good luck, Eijun.”
At the signature at the bottom—”Wakana”—Kuramochi’s face immediately twisted.
“…Damn it.
‘Partner,’ my foot.
It’s clearly a girl.
Wakana’s your girlfriend, isn’t she, you bastard?”
“It’s not like that!” Sawamura protested, still sore from the beating.
“She’s just a childhood friend.
We grew up together.
She’s not my girlfriend… yet.”
“You just caught your upperclassmen off guard in the game and now you’re acting all high and mighty?
I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”
Suddenly, Sawamura had a flash of inspiration.
“Ah—!
Senior Kuramochi, I was wrong, okay?!
How about this—if I see Wakana again, I’ll introduce her friends to you.
How’s that?”
For a moment, the pressure on him eased.
Kuramochi smiled warmly and helped him sit up, even straightening his clothes.
“Sawamura… I was just giving you a friendly massage earlier.
Don’t misunderstand your senior.
So, when is Wakana coming again?”
“How would I know?
Just wait,” Sawamura replied irritably.
The next second—
“Gah?!”
Kuramochi had him locked in a hold again.
“I knew you were lying, you bastard!”
“I’m not!
Senior Kuramochi, I’m telling the truth!
Believe me!”
“Yaha.
I don’t believe you.”
“Ahhh—!”
Sawamura’s screams echoed through Room 5 for a long time that night.
The next day, Seidou High’s baseball team returned to their usual training routine.
On the field, Coach Kataoka stood silently watching the lively practice ground.
Wearing sunglasses, his expression was unreadable—calm, stern, and unshakable as always.
At that moment, two men approached him—one tall and thin, the other short and stocky.
“Is there finally hope of reaching Koshien this year, Coach?” one asked.
“Our school hasn’t had any real connection to Koshien for five years,” the other added.
“Isn’t it about time we restore Seidou’s name on the national stage?”
Coach Kataoka paused briefly, then replied with quiet confidence:
“Don’t worry.
Our goal has always been the same.”
A slight pause.
“To stand at the top of the nation.”