In his previous life, it was because he stayed up playing video games that night that he couldn’t wake up in the morning.
He was caught by the coach and almost lost his eligibility as a pitcher.
This time, he would absolutely not make the same mistake.
Sawamura climbed into bed and turned toward the wall, pretending to fall asleep.
Kuramochi and Senior Masuko, seeing that he looked exhausted from the day, quickly tidied up and went to sleep as well.
Late at night, after hearing the faint sound of snoring from the bed below, Sawamura slowly opened his eyes.
He wasn’t asleep at all.
Today was his first day at Seido High School—the true starting point of everything.
Thinking about tomorrow, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.
He would meet the cunning Miyuki, Senior Yuki, Senior Isashiki… and above all, his greatest rival for the next three years—Furuya Satoru.
And just like that, while thinking about what was to come, the night slipped away.
He ended up oversleeping.
Everything that followed unfolded just as he remembered—except that he didn’t get tricked by Miyuki this time.
During the long-distance throwing test after the penalty run, Furuya Satoru still unleashed a monstrous throw of 120 meters.
Even though he didn’t talk back to Coach Kataoka this time, he still earned his chance to be evaluated.
Sawamura’s own throw reached 110 meters—solid, but compared to Furuya’s overwhelming performance, it didn’t stand out.
In the later fielding and batting tests, his results were steady and reliable.
That night, in the Seishin Dormitory cafeteria, the players who had finished training gathered for dinner.
Because of the intense training volume, the team meal standard was set at three bowls of rice.
After all, half of a strong body came from training—and the other half came from eating.
For most freshmen, however, this was a serious challenge.
The most obvious example was Furuya Satoru.
Sawamura, on the other hand, had already been preparing for Seido’s training regimen months in advance.
More importantly, the meals were carefully designed by professional nutritionists, ensuring perfect nutritional balance.
Upperclassmen from the second and third years watched quietly as Sawamura shoveled down his food.
When they first arrived, even they couldn’t manage three bowls so easily.
It usually took time to adjust.
This year’s freshman, however, was different.
Of course, that didn’t include Senior Masuko—who, for the record, also ate three bowls… though with considerably more effort than it sounded.
As he ate, Sawamura quietly reviewed his plans.
He remembered that his first official appearance after enrollment would be the Red and White intra-squad match against the seniors.
That match had been organized because, during the Spring Tournament, Ace Tanba’s performance had been unstable.
Coach Kataoka, always strict and precise, had decided to rebuild the pitching staff in preparation for the Summer Tournament.
This was his chance.
He needed to stand out and secure a spot in the first string as soon as possible.
The Red and White game was still more than half a month away.
In that case, he needed a catcher.
And Sawamura already had someone in mind: Kariba Wataru, a fellow first-year.
In his previous timeline, Kariba had always been a backup pitcher, but when Sawamura himself was struggling as a backup, Kariba had often caught for him in practice.
That made him the best choice.
As for Miyuki… the so-called “Seido Savior” in the eyes of others—he was still just a rookie at this stage.
There was no way he would personally catch for a first-year pitcher.
With that thought, Sawamura quickly finished his meal.
After several days of training, Sawamura finally found Kariba Wataru packing his belongings.
Kariba looked up in surprise as Sawamura stepped into his path with a smile.
Over the past few days, Sawamura had already stood out among the first-years, and Kariba naturally recognized him.
“Sawamura… do you need something?”
“Yeah.” Sawamura nodded.
“I’m Sawamura Eijun.
You’re Kariba Wataru, right?”
“Yes.”
“I heard you’re a catcher, and I’m a pitcher.
I want to practice pitching with you.
Would you be willing?”
Sawamura looked at him with bright, expectant eyes.
“I’m willing… but why me?
There are other catchers, aren’t there?” Kariba asked hesitantly.
“Because I think you’re a good catcher,” Sawamura said with a grin.
Those simple words made Kariba pause.
Ever since arriving at Seido, he had realized just how far he still had to go.
Being naturally introverted, he had struggled to connect with others, and that had only made him more reserved within the team.
But now, being recognized like this gave him a small spark of confidence.
“Alright, Sawamura.
If you don’t mind, I’ll catch for you.”
“Really?
That’s great!
Let’s go now.”
“Now?” Kariba blinked.
“Yeah… I’ve been about to go crazy these past two days.
It’s a good thing you agreed, otherwise I really wouldn’t have known what to do.
Haha.”
Sawamura and Kariba Wataru quickly packed up and headed together toward the indoor practice field.
In the following days, after daytime practice ended, Sawamura would always drag Kariba Wataru along for pitching practice.
Through those sessions, Kariba gradually came to understand just how strong this loud, always-smiling boy truly was as a pitcher.
That unusual pitching form where the release point couldn’t be seen.
The precise four-quadrant control.
A fastball exceeding 130 km/h.
A moving fastball that subtly changed trajectory right before reaching the glove.
A four-seam fastball reaching 135+ km/h that didn’t lose speed even at the plate.
On top of that, there were two-seamers and cutters that broke sharply left and right, and an especially sharp changeup.
During the first few days of practice, even Sawamura’s straight fastballs frequently flew out of the strike zone.
Whenever Kariba failed to catch them and got hit in the process, Sawamura would immediately apologize, but never once blamed him.
Even so, Kariba’s pride as a catcher only grew stronger.
He made up his mind—he had to catch this pitcher’s pitches.
Days passed like this.
Before long, the Tokyo Spring Tournament arrived.
The Spring Tournament could be considered a prelude to the Summer Koshien, drawing strong teams from all over Tokyo.
Unlike the Summer Koshien, however, participation was based on results from the previous autumn tournament—only teams that had earned qualification could enter.
Along with the Kanto Tournament, it was commonly referred to as a “warm-up battle” for the summer.
Teams used it to adjust and refine their lineups in preparation for the true stage: Summer Koshien.
As one of the top four teams in last autumn’s tournament, Seido High School naturally qualified for this prestigious event.
For a powerhouse like Seido, participation in every major tournament was almost guaranteed—the only difference was how far they would go.
Although first-year students were not yet eligible for official matches, they were still allowed to board the team bus and observe.
Sawamura, however, had no intention of going.
He understood very well how far Seido could go in this tournament.
There was no need for him to watch.
He still had more important things to do.
As the team prepared to board the bus, Kuramochi noticed that Sawamura was not moving.
“Hey, Sawamura.
Not coming to watch us show off?”
Behind him, Senior Masuko also pulled out a cloth banner from his bag that read: “Do your best!”
“Sorry,” Sawamura replied calmly, eyes lowered to the baseball in his hand.
“I’m staying behind.
At a time like this, I need to train even harder.
Otherwise, how will I stand alongside you all in the future?”
His tone was serious.
Kuramochi paused for a moment, then smiled softly.
“Is that so?
Then good luck.”
There was a rare gentleness in his voice.
Honestly… ever since Sawamura joined Room 5, he was either already gone when Kuramochi woke up or came back completely exhausted at night.
A junior like that… really was something else.
If you only looked at his attitude, he already had the makings of an ace.