After the first-string roster was finalized, the intense training camp immediately began.
With only one month left until the Summer Tournament, this final stretch would determine the team’s condition going into the main stage.
Sawamura knew exactly how terrifying Seidou’s training camp could be.
Even so, fear and anticipation mixed together in his chest.
Because his greatest weakness right now was stamina— and this was the perfect opportunity to push it to the next level.
During the camp, all players lived in the dormitory.
Both baseball fields were reserved exclusively for the first-string members, and every player’s training load was doubled compared to normal practice.
On the first day, training focused heavily on fielding and base running.
Among the first-years in the first string, Kominato Haruichi stood out the most, his movements smooth and refined.
Next was Sawamura.
And last was Furuya Satoru.
Among them, the most chaotic was Furuya.
His poor fielding fundamentals often earned loud scolding from the upperclassmen after repeated errors.
After a long session of fielding and base running, it was finally time for bullpen practice.
Chris, having been assigned as a team staff member under Coach Kataoka’s orders, no longer entered the bullpen as an active catcher.
Instead, he focused on observation and technical guidance from the side.
The four pitchers of the first string were divided accordingly.
Tanba, Kawakami, and Miyuki formed one group.
The two first-years were assigned separate stamina-focused training programs.
Because at Seidou, stamina was everything for a pitcher.
And among all of them, Sawamura was the one who pushed himself the hardest.
After training ended, the managers arrived with food—rice balls and sushi prepared for the players.
Haruno personally approached Sawamura and asked what he wanted.
Sawamura hesitated for a moment before accepting a medium-sized rice ball.
Just enough.
He didn’t want to push himself so hard that he would end up vomiting during the next round of training.
Still, the rice ball surprised him.
It was genuinely good.
In fact, it reminded him of the rice balls Wakana used to make in his previous life.
“Senior Fujiwara… did you all make these?
They’re really good.”
His words drew agreement from the surrounding players.
“Yeah, we made them together.
Hope it helps you recover your energy for training,” Fujiwara replied with a gentle smile.
Then, her gaze quietly drifted toward Yuki, who was standing not far away.
Sawamura noticed it immediately.
In his past life, he had never paid attention to such things.
He only remembered that Senior Yuki later went on to college—and eventually married Fujiwara.
Maybe Fujiwara already had feelings for him.
But Yuki himself hadn’t noticed yet.
In his previous life, it hadn’t mattered to him.
But now that he noticed it—
Sawamura decided he might as well help a little.
He walked over to Yuki, rice ball still in hand.
“Hey, Senior Yuki.
The rice balls Senior Fujiwara made are really good, right?”
“Hm?
Yeah, they are.
The managers worked hard,” Yuki replied seriously, as always.
Sawamura suddenly grinned.
“Senior Fujiwara!”
He raised his voice slightly.
“Senior Yuki said your rice balls are really good!
He wants another one too—could you bring him one?”
“Eh?!”
Fujiwara froze for a moment.
Then her face immediately turned bright red.
“I-I see… just a moment!”
She quickly turned and walked off to prepare another one.
After Senior Fujiwara walked over, Sawamura stood up.
“Senior Yuki, Senior Fujiwara, I’m going to get another rice ball.
I’ll be going now.”
Because of his loud voice, everyone nearby immediately noticed what was happening.
Normally, they were all focused on training and didn’t have time to pay attention to the managers or small interactions like this.
But now, sitting together eating rice balls, and after what Sawamura had just done…
They weren’t completely oblivious.
It didn’t take long for them to realize what he was up to.
Under the fading sunset, the atmosphere between Yuki and Fujiwara was unexpectedly warm and natural.
So warm, in fact, that it made everyone feel a little sour for no reason.
Even the rice in their hands suddenly didn’t taste as good anymore.
And then there was Sawamura, happily chatting with Haruno, another first-year manager.
The two of them looked like they were enjoying themselves far too much.
That contrast made things worse.
Without even needing to discuss it, the seniors silently decided to take out their frustration on him.
The first to move was Kuramochi.
In a flash, he locked Sawamura into a wrestling hold.
“You bastard!
You already have a childhood friend, Wakana, and you’re still flirting around?
Unforgivable!”
I just went to get a rice ball and happened to talk about Senior Fujiwara!” Sawamura struggled, barely able to breathe.
He had genuinely just been gossiping casually with Haruno.
And during that conversation, he had discovered something unexpected: Senior Fujiwara actually kept one of Senior Yuki’s notebooks.
That small piece of gossip had made him oddly satisfied.
He never expected Kuramochi to suddenly jump him like this.
After that incident, he couldn’t help but notice something strange—when it came time for his training, the seniors’ expressions seemed far more intense than usual.
And then came the real nightmare.
Evening training began with 20 shuttle runs and 80 base sprints, all performed at full speed.
Every sprint had to be an all-out dash back to home plate.
After each set, they were only allowed one minute of rest.
Even Sawamura, who trained his running every day, felt like his lungs were about to give out.
When he finally finished the sets, he didn’t even dare imagine what was still waiting for him.
And then came the final blow.
“Today’s training is not over,” Coach Kataoka’s voice echoed coldly.
“Everyone, run twenty laps around the field before you can go back.”
Sawamura felt a wave of nausea rise in his throat—but he forced it down.
Beside him, Kominato Haruichi and Furuya Satoru had already collapsed into dry heaving.
When the final twenty laps were somehow completed, Sawamura was completely drained.
Haruichi and Furuya had to be practically carried back to the dormitory by upperclassmen.
He dragged himself to the bathroom, soaked into the tub, and finally felt like he could breathe again.
It was almost heavenly.
So comfortable that he nearly fell asleep right there—until seniors came in later and woke him up.
Back in the dormitory, he collapsed into bed the moment he lay down.
The next second, he was already asleep.
The next day’s training didn’t get any easier.
Batting practice began with 200 full swings before breakfast.
By the time they reached the dining hall, most of them had no appetite left.
They could only force themselves to eat.
On this point, however, Sawamura outperformed both Kominato Haruichi and Furuya Satoru.
As the saying goes, distance reveals a horse’s strength.
Day after day of brutal training, the difference between each player’s endurance and mindset became increasingly clear.
Among the first-years, Sawamura’s performance surprised even the coaches and seniors.
Faced with this overwhelming workload, he rarely complained.
Instead, he endured it step by step, steadily keeping pace with the upperclassmen.
At times, he even came close to matching their rhythm.
And the only thought running through Sawamura’s mind was simple:
Just hold on.
If he could endure this, he would definitely reach the next level.