"Don't you understand?"
"Our Seido High School batting lineup has never been the problem."
"What we've always lacked is a truly stable and powerful pitcher."
Coach Kataoka spoke with rare excitent, his tone firm and resolute.
To him, Ushijima Wakatoshi's appearance was nothing short of a gift from heaven.
But Ushijima shook his head imdiately.
"I know our team lacks a stable ace."
"But the problem is—I'm not stable either."
Those words made Coach Kataoka freeze on the spot.
Miyuki Kazuya, standing nearby, broke into a grin.
This kid really hates pitching.
With that kind of terrifying arm talent, most players would beg to beco a pitcher. Yet Ushijima was doing everything he could to avoid it.
"Coach," Ushijima continued seriously, "I'm not being modest. I'm being honest."
"My pitch speed is indeed very good—good enough to rank near the top of high school baseball."
"But my control isn't."
"My control is nowhere near as stable as Tanba-senpai's."
"At least Tanba pitches very well during practice. He just struggles under ga pressure."
"But I'm different."
"My control isn't stable even in practice gas."
He paused, then added calmly:
"You saw it just now. The throws I sent back were probably between 145 and 150 km/h."
"They flew so high that, "that guy" had to jump to catch them."
Miyuki's smile instantly vanished.
"You bastard—what do you an 'that guy'? Apologize to right now."
Ushijima ignored him completely.
Coach Kataoka listened in silence, then finally spoke.
"Fine."
"I won't test your pitching today."
"I'll check it tomorrow."
"I'll personally observe your control."
Those words made Ushijima's heart sink.
"No—Coach, let's talk about this."
Coach Kataoka turned around, clearly having no intention of negotiating.
"Coach—wait! Coach, please listen!"
"With Tanba and Kawakami already pitching, I won't need to be a pitcher, right?"
"Coach, did you hear ?!"
"And there's also a very talented pitcher among the first-years!"
"Didn't soone strike out Azuma Kiyokuni—the strongest batter of the previous generation?"
"He can be developed properly!"
"Coach! Please acknowledge !"
No matter what Ushijima said, it was useless.
Coach Kataoka walked straight off the field.
Watching his back disappear, Ushijima lowered his head and stared at his right hand.
Then, irritated, he raised his left hand and slapped it.
Smack.
"This damn hand…"
"Why did you have to act on impulse?"
"Yahahaha~"
Kuramochi suddenly appeared and kicked Ushijima in the backside.
"You jerk! You pitch like that, and now you're still trying to steal my shortstop position?"
Ushijima ignored him.
"You idiot!" Isashiki shouted loudly. "You've got better pitching talent than batting, and you're still hiding it?!"
Ignored again.
Yuki Tetsuya spoke calmly instead.
"It wouldn't be a bad thing if you practiced control."
"You could help Tanba shoulder so of the pressure."
Ushijima sighed deeply.
"It's a tragedy…"
"I prefer defeating pitchers with my batting. That's what really gives a sense of achievent."
"Besides, I've never seriously studied pitching. It's all just talent."
"That's why my control is terrible—and why I don't want to show it."
"Batting is much better."
"The clang, clang, clang sound is very therapeutic."
None of his seniors paid him any attention.
Soon, the day's main training ca to an end.
The first-years finished early.
They had only been with the team for about two weeks and still hadn't fully adapted to Seido's brutal training intensity.
anwhile, the First String's training wasn't over yet.
Their workload was far heavier than the Second Team's—let alone the first-years'.
"Ha—ha—ha—"
"Ho—ho—ho—"
On the field, the regulars continued pushing themselves.
Ushijima Wakatoshi trained alongside them, sweat pouring down his body.
At the sa ti, his mind wandered.
Tomorrow marks the second week.
What Silver skill will I draw after two consecutive sign-ins?
But that thought was quickly drowned out by another.
Tomorrow… the coach will test my pitching.
Just thinking about it made Ushijima's mood sink once again.
"Ha—ha—ha…"
By the end of training, nearly every First String mber had reached their limit.
When the final whistle blew, the field turned into a disaster scene.
So players collapsed flat on their backs.
Others knelt on the ground, gasping for air.
Only one person was still standing.
Ushijima Wakatoshi.
"Ptooey."
Completely exhausted, he spat to the side, then casually pulled off his soaked shirt, revealing a well-trained, solid physique.
This was a bad habit of his.
Whenever he was overheated and drenched in sweat, taking off his shirt just felt way too comfortable.
The reaction was imdiate.
"Ushijima, you idiot! Put your clothes back on!"
"Hey! Watch your image—there are female managers here!"
"Don't act like so street hooligan!"
"GET DRESSED!!!"
The field instantly filled with angry shouts.
The female managers all turned away at once, faces bright red, not daring to look.
Ushijima could only sigh and pull his shirt back on.
"The senpais didn't even say anything…" he muttered.
"You talk too much," his seniors replied in unison.
After resting for a while, everyone slowly struggled back to their feet.
The First String mbers were so tired that even walking back to the dormitory felt like torture.
As usual, they showered and changed first before heading to the cafeteria.
"Yahahaha~"
Laughter echoed the mont Ushijima entered.
He sat down beside Yuki Tetsuya and watched him finish a bowl of rice with frightening speed.
Ushijima's expression imdiately darkened.
Every second- and third-year on this team was a monster.
Three bowls of rice was the minimum.
Five wasn't rare.
anwhile, despite his height, Ushijima's limit was… two.
Two bowls, max.
Looking at the full bowl in front of him, Ushijima let out a tired sigh.
"My heart is exhausted."
"I'm honestly scared of the cafeteria."
Yuki glanced at him. "Eat more. You need energy to train."
"There's no training later," Ushijima replied weakly. "If there is, it's voluntary. I don't need this much rice."
Eating too much before sleeping always made him uncomfortable.
"Ushijima, shut up!"
Isashiki slamd his bowl down.
"If you can't even finish three bowls, don't embarrass our dorm!"
"I've eaten five bowls. Shirasu's already on his fourth."
"And you can't even finish three?!"
Ushijima stared at him, completely speechless.
Couldn't we compete in literally anything else?
Why did it have to be food?
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