“Kanzaki Yuto, starting tomorrow, you’ll also join first-string training.” Coach Kataoka’s cold voice echoed across the field.
Kanzaki Yuto froze for a moment, wondering if he had misheard… Huh?
Join the first string?
Are you kidding me?
This news hit Kanzaki Yuto with the force of an eight-magnitude earthquake.
Not only Kanzaki Yuto himself was stunned—everyone present was equally shocked.
If Furuya’s selection had merely caused mild surprise, then Kanzaki Yuto’s selection was outright astonishing.
After all, Furuya’s pitching speed was there for all to see.
Even without a radar gun, that presence alone suggested something close to 150 kilometers per hour.
Even if promoting him to the first string felt a bit early, Seidou was currently short on pitchers and lacked a decisive ace.
Under such circumstances, Coach Kataoka’s decision regarding Furuya wasn’t unreasonable.
But Kanzaki Yuto?
That was where people couldn’t quite understand it.
True, among the first-years, Kanzaki Yuto’s performance had been eye-catching.
He had shown the solid fundamentals and awareness a baseball player should possess!
But did that really qualify him to join the first string right now?
No one knew what Coach Kataoka was thinking.
That calm, icy expression of his revealed nothing to anyone.
The first-year students all stared at Kanzaki Yuto with disbelief written all over their faces… In a corner, a certain pink-haired boy looked at Furuya and Kanzaki Yuto with unconcealed envy… He muttered softly, “First string… that’s really nice…” Furuya Satoru also raised an eyebrow slightly, glancing at Kanzaki Yuto—another member of his year who had been selected alongside him.
A clear change passed through his expression, but he said nothing… “Tch, this kid… I knew the coach wouldn’t—” Miyuki glanced at the field, stretched lazily, and laughed.
Kanzaki Yuto frowned slightly.
Then, under the shocked gazes of everyone present, he said something even more shocking!
“Coach, the game isn’t over yet!
I don’t want to come off the field!” It was as if Kanzaki Yuto had finally snapped back to his senses after Coach Kataoka’s announcement.
Joining the first string?
He didn’t deny it—this was an enormous surprise for him!
Calling it a gift fallen from the heavens wouldn’t be an exaggeration.
But there was one thing he couldn’t accept.
He hadn’t hit a single safe hit yet!
And this game… wasn’t over!
Kanzaki Yuto bit his lip, looking straight at Kataoka, his expression stubborn as he spoke.
“Wha—!?” Kanzaki Yuto’s words made everyone feel as though they needed to reevaluate him entirely.
In a game that first-years regarded as hell, and second- and third-years viewed as an easy slaughter… someone actually treated it as a real match?
Indeed, the upperclassmen were serious and solemn, treating the Red-and-White game like an official match—but that was merely good player discipline.
Tactically, they respected the freshmen; strategically, however, those proud second- and third-years never truly saw these rookies as equals.
“The game isn’t over yet, Coach!
A match only ends when the loser is decided!
I… don’t want to leave the field!” In truth, Kanzaki Yuto wanted to say, I won’t leave the field.
But he understood all too well the nature of this game—and the kind of person standing before him as head coach… So the words that reached his lips became don’t want to, instead of won’t.
Kataoka Tesshin stared silently at the stubborn kid before him.
On this boy, he seemed to see something familiar—an unyielding desire to win, a refusal to accept defeat!
“Fine.
I agree.
You’ll stay on the field.” Coach Kataoka fell silent for a moment.
Just as everyone thought he might explode and harshly scold this insolent freshman who dared talk back to him—he instead said something utterly jaw-dropping.
… Furuya, who had already walked off the field, halted in his steps.
He looked at Kanzaki Yuto’s back, his expression unreadable.
In his mind surfaced memories of himself, once playing alone—teammates leaving one after another, saying they couldn’t catch his pitches… Kanzaki Yuto’s words shook the first-years who had been wallowing in dejection.
It was as if something awakened inside them.
Slowly, their hunched backs straightened a little… That’s right— The game isn’t over yet, is it?
Why should they give up so easily?
Being suppressed and brutally beaten by second- and third-years—wasn’t that normal?
Those were seniors who had already been tempered by high school baseball.
Getting suppressed, getting crushed—that was to be expected.
If they could match the seniors evenly the moment they joined the club, that would be abnormal… Thinking it through like this, the first-years’ mental states actually improved considerably.
Even without that overwhelming momentum, they looked far better than they had at the start… Kanzaki Yuto hadn’t expected that, unintentionally, he would steal a role originally meant for Eijun—successfully igniting the first-years’ persistence toward the game!
The method was just a bit different, that was all… Perhaps due to the lingering pressure left by Furuya, combined with Kanzaki Yuto’s words of resolve, the bottom of the fourth inning saw the combined efforts of all the first-years.
Along with a slight slowdown in the upperclassmen’s offense, they managed to retire the side after giving up only one run.
Sides changed.
The first-years couldn’t help but cheer a little… Only Kanzaki Yuto remained, his brows tightly knit.
Because—even though he had said those words, and even though the bottom of the fourth inning was passable—the batting results hadn’t changed at all.
Top of the fourth inning, the lineup rolled back to the leadoff spot, and the result was… One through three—perfectly retired.
No hope in sight.
The fifth inning was the same—another clean three outs.
What was worse, the pitcher on the mound was no longer the ace, but a second-year relief pitcher.
If it had been the ace’s suppression, the first-years might have found some consolation.
But now it was a backup… And yet—another clean three outs.
The first-years were instantly discouraged.
It formed a sharp contrast with their earlier momentum.
Their morale suddenly became… awkward.
One thing worth mentioning was that when the pitcher was changed, Coach Kataoka also adjusted the batting order.
The sweet, simple-minded guy in right field was now batting seventh—which meant, if all went well, that… Ahem.
Yes.
That airheaded fellow would appear in the sixth inning… So when the sixth batter was retired, Eijun happily swung his bat in the on-deck circle, shouting loudly, “It’s not over yet!
The game’s only just starting!
Watch me smash a big one!” Just as Eijun grabbed his bat and was about to head out, Kanzaki Yuto closed his eyes in silence.
He already knew what scene would follow next… “Idiot!
The sides have already changed!
Get back here!” “How can this guy be so dumb?” Almost the moment Kanzaki Yuto closed his eyes, those voices rang in his ears.
Opening them again, he saw Eijun walking back from the batter’s box, his face full of embarrassment… Kanzaki Yuto shook his head helplessly.
Well—this was Sawamura Eijun.
That sweet, simple future ace pitcher.
That endlessly cheerful little angel!