On the second day of Training Camp, Kōshū stood off to the side on the lawn at night, gasping heavily. His temples throbbed from having just stopped exercising, and waves of sweat stench wafted off him.
Before this, he had already felt like he was juggling enough roles—practicing Outfield Defense, Hitting Techniques, reinforcing his pitching, doing physical training, and occasionally finding time to care about the emotions of those around him.
But—
The Baseball Club's Training Camp was an undeniable hell, unbearable even for someone like him who had adapted for three months.
Thankfully, he could still stand, though his legs were trembling and weak. The three first-years beside him—Eijun, Furuya, and Haruichi—were all lying flat on the ground, and all he could hear was their ragged breathing.
"Hey, first-year, your stamina's pretty good. Yahha." Kuramochi, who looked completely relaxed, came over and poked Kōshū in the shoulder. The force was so great that if not for his pride, he would have gone down with it.
"I'm doing okay. Not as well as you upperclassmen." Indeed, most of the second- and third-years were panting too, but it was obvious they still had strength left.
On the fourth day of Training Camp, the usual three first-years were sprawled across the lawn after practice. But someone was sitting beside them as well, bracing himself against his knees to keep his body from collapsing.
"So stubborn."
"So damn irritating. How can we let ourselves feel tired when none of the first-years have fallen yet?" After four consecutive days of high-intensity training, even the upperclassmen were running low on energy. Yet that first-year beside them looked ready to topple over at any moment, but stubbornly refused to fall. Tch. Let's see how many days you can last.
Once Kataoka Manager saw that everyone had