He was just an obstacle in my way. Why was he struggling so stubbornly? Just get off the field already! Thinking back on it, Kōshū shuddered in disgust at himself. He did not understand why he had been so embarrassingly melodramatic and aggressive back then.
"Yeah, I get it now. It was aggression!" He suddenly realized that every pitch was thrown by a person. The harder one threw, the heavier the ball became; the more flexible one's fingers were, the stronger the late movement. That extraordinarily aggressive pitch had also been thrown with an extraordinarily aggressive mindset.
Then... does that mean I have to make some horribly embarrassing melodramatic declaration every time I pitch? Isn't that basically a transformation sequence from a magical-girl battle manga...? Kōshū could not accept it. Even if he only said it in his heart, he could not accept it.
There had also been that final handshake with Raichi. His lingering aggression had completely changed it, to the point that he had bullied the other boy into tears.
"Haa..." Kōshū calmed and refocused. At heart, he was still an absolute rationalist. He could only summon his aggression within limited bounds.
He released the pitch. In his mental practice, it struck right at the inside corner, chest-high. He supplied his own sound effect: "Strike!"
Before long, it was time for the semifinals, and Kōshū and the others returned to Jingu Stadium, where the opening ceremony had been held.
"We're back at this stadium. It feels like the opening ceremony was just yesterday, but today we're already playing in the final four." Kōshū looked out over the field from the Dugout with a sigh, only to find complete silence behind him.
When he turned around, Haruichi was packing up his things. Only the two pitchers were still standing