Facts proved one thing clearly—the baseball coach held absolute authority within Seidou’s baseball club.
In the end, Sawamura was placed into the first string to form a battery with Miyuki, while Furuya was assigned to the second string to work with Chris.
Sawamura wasn’t sure whether his rebirth had caused a butterfly effect that altered the original timeline.
But right now, one feeling stood out clearly—
He was jealous.
Jealous that Furuya Satoru would be working under Chris’s guidance.
At the same time, it also meant pressure.
With Chris’s mentorship, Furuya’s development would undoubtedly accelerate.
Meanwhile, Sawamura’s current arsenal was still relatively limited: a four-seam fastball, two-seam fastball, cutter, changeup, and a moving fastball.
His fastball range sat around 130 km/h on average, with a peak of 135 km/h, while his changeup dropped to around 120 km/h.
On paper, it looked varied—but in reality, most of his pitches still belonged to the fastball family.
His only true breaking pitch was the changeup.
Sawamura understood it clearly: he was still far from enough.
Thanks to his experience from a previous life, he had avoided many unnecessary detours in development.
He had focused his training in the right direction from the start.
But his body still needed time to grow.
If he wanted to lead the upperclassmen back to Koshien this time, Inashiro was an obstacle he could not avoid.
And realistically, against Inashiro’s batting lineup, he estimated he could only hold them down for four—maybe five innings at best.
That was not enough.
So he needed to unlock his numbered pitches as soon as possible.
But he also understood—he wasn’t at that level yet.
If he couldn’t rush his breakthroughs, then he had no choice but to strengthen his fundamentals instead: stamina, control, and consistency.
That was the foundation of a pitcher.
And that was exactly why he had pushed his physical training so hard since joining Seidou.
In the bullpen, Miyuki walked over and tapped Sawamura lightly on the shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Oi, Sawamura.
Didn’t think we’d end up forming a battery again this soon, huh?
Haha.”
Sawamura glanced at him and snorted.
“Hmph.
I’m not the same rookie from before.
Don’t underestimate me.”
“Alright, alright,” Miyuki replied lazily.
“Is it really worth getting so worked up?”
Then he grinned.
“Tell you what—I’ll take you to see Senior Chris after practice.
Maybe I’ll even get him to catch your pitches.
How about that?”
Sawamura’s eyes instantly lit up.
“Promise?”
Now then… you can pitch properly, right?”
“Hmph.
Fine.
I’ll reluctantly trust you this once.
Let’s go.”
“Haha, then I won’t hold back.”
Miyuki returned behind the plate, crouched down, and set his mitt.
What followed was a session that fully showcased Sawamura’s pitching ability.
On the very first pitch, the ball slipped cleanly through Miyuki’s glove.
The invisible release point—combined with sharp four-quadrant control—made the pitch difficult to track even for him.
After a few throws, Miyuki quietly came to a conclusion.
At this stage, Sawamura was stronger than Furuya.
As Seidou’s main catcher, Miyuki understood Chris’s abilities better than most.
The fact that the coach had entrusted Furuya to Chris meant there were deeper expectations involved.
But Miyuki didn’t dwell on it.
In the end, his job was simple—win games.
He didn’t care who stood on the mound, as long as they could get outs.
Still, if he had to choose, he preferred pitchers with strong control and a clear personality.
In that regard, Sawamura fit his style far better than anyone else in the pitching staff.
That evening, Miyuki kept his promise.
When they went to find Chris, they discovered him inside the indoor training facility—with Furuya.
Chris was on one knee, clutching his shoulder.
Furuya stood beside him, confused, while a baseball lay motionless on the floor nearby.
Sawamura and Miyuki rushed over immediately, thinking Chris had been hit by a pitch.
But after asking what happened, they learned the truth.
Chris’s old shoulder injury had flared up—overstrained by the sheer power of Furuya’s pitching.
As for Furuya himself, he had simply gotten excited after discovering Chris could actually catch his pitches.
He had asked, almost desperately, to keep pitching at full strength.
And as a catcher…
Chris had accepted.
Plus, Chris had always been a gentle person.
Seeing the excitement on Furuya’s face, he hadn’t called for a break—until things eventually escalated to the point where it was too late.
In the days that followed, Chris’s shoulder injury became a temporary limitation.
Whenever Furuya felt like pitching, he would go looking for Miyuki at night instead.
Meanwhile, Sawamura had developed a habit of going to Chris’s room almost every night.
Chris himself didn’t mind.
In fact, he seemed to welcome it.
His roommate, Kanemaru, eventually gave up trying to understand it.
“Looking for him at night is one thing,” he muttered, “but why is he following Senior Chris everywhere during the day too…?”
Whenever there was free time, Sawamura could always be found trailing behind Chris.
After Seidou’s victory over Ichidai Sankou, they also went on to win their next match.
That evening, during dinner in the cafeteria, Coach Kataoka made an announcement.
Sawamura would be taking the mound in the upcoming game.
The news immediately stirred reactions from the first-years, as well as the upperclassmen who had yet to see game time.
Many of them couldn’t hide their envy.
But Sawamura himself wasn’t overly excited.
He understood what this really meant.
This match was likely to be Seidou’s last in the Kanto Tournament.
In other words, he had simply become the “first-year highlight” for the final stage.
What did excite him, however, was something else entirely.
After dinner, Chris had said he would catch his pitches.
With game opportunities becoming increasingly limited, this practice session felt far more valuable than anything else.
That night, Coach Kataoka called Miyuki into his office, where Director Ota was also present, and asked about his recent training with Sawamura.
Miyuki reported that everything was progressing smoothly, with no issues.
Afterward, Takashima Rei casually asked how the battery formation was going.
Miyuki thought for a moment, then let out a dry laugh.
“It’s going fine… I guess.
It’s just that Sawamura seems especially attached to Senior Chris.
I even saw him walking with Chris toward the indoor training facility again tonight.”
“…Is that so?” Coach Kataoka’s interest was piqued.
“Shall we take a look?”
“Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Miyuki replied, though his feet were already moving toward the door.
Clearly, his actions and his words were not in agreement.
If they went and found Sawamura secretly practicing with Chris, the look on his face would probably be priceless.
Just imagining it made Miyuki smirk.
For some reason, though… it felt less like observing practice—and more like catching someone in the act.
Inside the indoor training facility, Sawamura stood on the mound, throwing pitch after pitch under Chris’s guidance.
“I didn’t expect you’d be pitching in a game so soon,” Chris said gently.
“Are you nervous?”
“Haha, it’s fine,” Sawamura replied with a grin.
“As long as I can perform at my best, that’s all that matters.”
“I see… your mindset is solid.
Not getting overwhelmed by the stage is one of the most important qualities for a pitcher.
You’re doing well,” Chris praised.
Hearing that, Sawamura’s expression brightened immediately.
“Really?
Senior Chris, I’ve warmed up already.
Can I start pitching now?”
Chris nodded slightly.