Three days later, Seidou High School Baseball Team officially entered its annual sumr training camp.
In the evening, none of the first-string players left the field after finishing their regular practice.
Not only that—
all non–first-string mbers also stayed behind.
For the next seven days, during Seidou's infamous Hell Week, they would assist the coaching staff in pushing the first string to their limits.
"Everyone, co eat!"
As soon as afternoon training ended, the team's managers pushed several food carts to the edge of the field.
"Whoa—there's so much!"
"Did the managers really make all this?"
"I want that one!"
"Don't grab, idiot!"
"Mine, mine, mine!"
A swarm of players rushed over.
After such brutal training, everyone was starving.
Compared to the assisting players, the first-string mbers had it even worse—their training load had been doubled.
"Hey! Sawamura! That's mine!"
Kuramochi yanked Sawamura out of the crowd.
"The upperclassn haven't eaten yet, you brat!"
"And Furuya! What are you sneaking over there for?!"
Kuramochi instantly transford into a roaming disciplinary officer, hunting down first-years who tried to eat early.
Kanzaki Ryou didn't join the chaos.
He walked to a patch of grass and sat down quietly.
Not long after, Fujiwara Takako approached with a lunchbox.
"Here. Nutritious al, just like you asked."
She placed it gently on Kanzaki's lap.
"Thank you, Senior. You've worked hard," Kanzaki said with a smile, looking up at her under the setting sun.
"It's nothing. Compared to what you all go through, this is the least we can do. Hell Week is exhausting."
Kanzaki opened the lid.
The neatly arranged dishes instantly made his stomach rumble.
"Senior, want to eat together?"
"I already ate. You eat quickly—there'll be fruit later."
"Mmm."
Just then, Miyuki walked over, holding two rice balls.
"You secretly got special treatnt again?"
Miyuki pointed accusingly.
Kanzaki was in the middle of chewing.
"Waaah…"
"Finish eating first!" Miyuki sighed.
After swallowing, Kanzaki smirked.
"What? Jealous? Being jealous won't help."
"Damn it!"
Miyuki took a vicious bite of his rice ball and plopped down beside him.
Nearby, Kuramochi gathered the first-year first-string mbers.
"Listen up! Tonight's training is super, super tough."
"So eat as much as you can now."
"Red bean paste too?" Sawamura asked seriously.
"Absolutely."
Kuramochi nodded with a grave expression.
"Then I'll grab another rice ball!" Arima Kazusa imdiately turned around.
"I'll go too," Furuya said blankly.
Sawamura followed without hesitation.
Only Kominato Haruichi watched with a quiet smile.
"Hehehe…"
Kuramochi's grin slowly turned sinister.
If I suffered back then, my juniors have to suffer too.
Soon, Sawamura returned, holding two rice balls in one hand.
"Hahaha! With these, I'm not afraid of any training!"
The surrounding seniors exchanged silent glances.
Yuki: "He's definitely throwing up later."
Isashiki: "For sure."
Masuko: "No doubt."
Shirasu: "Poor guy."
Ryosuke: "Tragic."
After a thirty-minute break, training resud.
"Relay base running! Twenty rounds! Start!"
Ten players on both Field A and Field B began sprinting.
"Faster!"
"Don't slow down!"
On Field B, Sawamura ran alongside Arima Kazusa.
After one lap, Sawamura planted his hands on his hips.
"Easy! I run with two tires back ho, so this is nothing! Yahaha!"
Arima didn't respond.
He had heard the number clearly.
Twenty rounds.
With only one minute of rest between each.
This was hell.
Three rounds.
Five rounds.
Ten rounds.
By halfway point, several first-years were already gasping for breath.
"First-years! Run!"
Upperclassn holding stopwatches barked orders.
After twenty rounds, before anyone could collapse—
Coach Kataoka raised the gaphone.
"Rest in place for three minutes!"
"Next—three hundred batting practice swings!"
"What?!"
"No way…"
The first-years stared in despair.
On Field A, Kanzaki drank so water and glanced toward Field B.
"Those guys are definitely throwing up later."
He then walked over to Fujiwara Takako.
"Senior, did you bring your phone?"
"It's in my bag over there."
"Good. I need a favor."
Kanzaki leaned in and whispered sothing.
Fujiwara blinked, then smiled helplessly.
Batting practice began.
Non–first-string players ford lines as pitchers.
Each first-string batter was assigned one thrower.
The sound of bat eting ball echoed endlessly.
Across from Kanzaki stood Tojo Hideaki.
In middle school, Tojo had once been a national-level pitcher.
He entered Seidou with dreams of standing on the mound.
Reality crushed those dreams.
Still, he never abandoned baseball.
He voluntarily switched to the outfield.
At Seidou—
the mound was simply too crowded.
Kanzaki looked at Tojo.
If not for Furuya and Sawamura…
Maybe Tojo would've been the one everyone was waiting for.
Sumr training had only just begun.
And already, it was rciless.
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