The Seidou High School lineup was often described as an “impenetrable wall.”
At the top stood the leadoff hitter and shortstop, Kuramochi Yoichi, followed by the second baseman Kominato Ryosuke.
In the heart of the order was the powerful third hitter, center fielder Isashiki, known for both his strong arm and explosive batting.
Then came the captain and fourth hitter, first baseman Yuki, whose sharp intuition made him unshakable in clutch situations.
The fifth spot belonged to the returning powerhouse, Masuko, the heavyweight third baseman.
And anchoring the lineup was the key stabilizer of the entire offense—the sixth hitter and catcher, Miyuki Kazuya.
Every single one of them was a player of national caliber.
Coach Kataoka and the two board members stood watching the team with clear pride in their strength.
“They really are reliable,” one of them said quietly.
“In that case… everything now depends on the pitcher,” the other replied, turning his gaze toward Tanba, who was steadily throwing in the bullpen.
“By the way,” the board member continued, “isn’t Coach Kataoka a bit too focused on developing a single ace?
In modern baseball, it might be better to distribute the workload among multiple pitchers.”
The moment the words left his mouth, Kataoka turned sharply.
His piercing gaze cut through the air, and the man instinctively fell silent.
Seidou High School, as a prestigious baseball program, demanded results.
And in the years since Kataoka had taken over as head coach, they had yet to return to Koshien.
That alone was enough to weigh heavily on the board members, who were responsible for the school’s reputation.
Kataoka understood this better than anyone.
But he also understood something else.
“I came into coaching because I owe high school baseball everything it gave me,” he said firmly.
“I’ve long been prepared to take responsibility for the results.
So from here on, please refrain from interfering in on-field decisions.”
With that, he turned away.
“Excuse me.”
Night After the Red-White Game
“How was it?
The first-years were soundly defeated, but they must have gained something valuable, right?”
Director Ota spoke while watching the replay footage in the observation room.
“That small second baseman turned out to be Kominato Haruichi’s younger brother.
No wonder he looked familiar.”
“And Furuya Satoru… he changed the entire flow of the game with just one pitch.
And then there’s Sawamura—he struck out Masuko and shut down the upperclassmen’s batting lineup completely.”
Coach Kataoka listened silently.
After a moment, Director Ota continued, his tone turning more serious.
“Regarding Furuya and Sawamura… if we win tomorrow’s game, I intend to let one of them appear in the Kanto Tournament.”
“A first-year… in an official game?” someone asked in surprise.
Ota nodded.
“Furuya’s high-angle fastball has such explosive rise that it creates the illusion of a rising pitch.
“As for Sawamura, he’s a left-handed pitcher with an unusual delivery and a moving fastball.
Because of his form, batters can’t clearly see his release point, which makes timing extremely difficult.”
“In truth, both of them have tremendous potential.
I even considered using them together.
But for the sake of the Summer Tournament, I’ve decided this: Sawamura will be promoted to the first string and used in the Kanto Tournament.
Furuya Satoru will return to the second string and train under Chris until summer.”
At this, Takashima Rei—who had been quietly listening—frowned slightly.
Giving Sawamura a chance in his first year was certainly a good thing.
But handing Furuya over to Chris carried deeper implications.
It wasn’t just development—it felt like a long-term plan.
Furuya being pulled back to refine his skills…
It was very likely that the coach was preparing him as a future closer for the Summer Tournament.
Meanwhile, Sawamura would likely be used as a workhorse to eat innings, given his stamina-based pitching style.
Takashima Rei suppressed a sigh.
Sawamura was a pitcher she had personally scouted.
He was talented—no doubt about that.
But when it came to raw pitching speed, he still couldn’t compare to Furuya.
For now, all she could do was watch how things developed.
Training Field – Daytime
The first-years were jogging together in formation, still adjusting to the brutal pace of Seidou’s training.
At the back of the group, Sawamura dragged a tire behind him, running alongside Kominato Haruichi and Furuya Satoru.
Despite the exhaustion, Sawamura was in a surprisingly good mood today.
If his memory was correct, this was the day Furuya would form a battery with the notoriously sharp-tongued Miyuki of the first string.
And he himself would finally meet Senior Chris.
Just thinking about it made him excited.
Soon, the expected announcement echoed across the field through the loudspeakers—
Sawamura and Furuya Satoru walked over together to Takashima Rei.
On her left and right stood two catchers—Miyuki Kazuya and Chris Yū Takigawa.
The moment Sawamura saw Chris, his eyes lit up.
Ever since arriving at Seidou, his gaze had been locked onto Chris without wavering, leaving the others slightly confused.
Takashima Rei glanced at the document in her hand and began to read.
“Starting today, both of you will follow the pitcher-specific training menu.
The workload will be double that of the regular program.
Good luck.”
She then continued.
“Sawamura, you will be promoted to the first string and form a battery with Miyuki.
You may even get a chance to pitch in next week’s Kanto Tournament.
Make sure to confirm signals and tactics with him.”
“Furuya, after yesterday’s evaluation, the coach has decided to send you back to the second string to build your stamina and form a battery with third-year catcher Chris.” You are reading on g.com, the official source.
The moment she finished speaking, both Sawamura and Furuya raised their voices in protest almost simultaneously.
Furuya’s reaction was understandable.
But Sawamura’s was different.
Wasn’t his entire reason for coming to Seidou to form a battery with Miyuki?
Takashima Rei tilted her head slightly in confusion.
“Sawamura, I can understand Furuya’s reaction… but why are you objecting as well?”
“I want to form a battery with Senior Chris,” Sawamura said without hesitation.
The words stunned everyone present.
Even Furuya, who usually seemed slow to grasp things, blinked in confusion.
In his mind, Miyuki was clearly the stronger catcher—especially when there was a chance to pitch in the Kanto Tournament.
Why would anyone choose differently?
Ignoring the surrounding stares, Sawamura stepped forward and bowed deeply—ninety degrees, formal and sincere.
“Senior Chris.
My name is Sawamura Eijun.
If you are willing… I want to form a battery with you.”
In his previous life, he had said careless words here—words that had looked down on Chris.
This time, he would not repeat that mistake.
He would correct it.
Chris studied him quietly.
“Why do you want to form a battery with me?
You should know Miyuki’s abilities are considered the best here.”
At that, Miyuki frowned slightly, though he didn’t seem particularly offended.
He never truly believed he was above Chris anyway.
Sawamura smiled lightly and scratched the back of his head.
“I did watch the Seidou game tapes after returning from Tokyo.
It’s true—Senior Miyuki is very strong.
But I believe… Senior Chris is the most outstanding catcher here.”
“…Hey,” Miyuki muttered under his breath.
“If you’re going to praise him, don’t drag me into it.”
Takashima Rei listened carefully, and at that moment, she finally understood.
This was the same Sawamura who had once been hit for a home run by Azuma Kiyokuni and later still chose Seidou despite everything.
Chris raised his brows slightly.
Looking at Sawamura’s bright, unwavering eyes, he found himself unable to immediately refuse.
More than that—deep inside, wasn’t there also a part of him that wanted to be acknowledged like this again?
After a brief silence, Chris spoke.
“In that case… we’ll need to consult the coach again.”