Second Victory

Second Victory

The following morning was Kinoshita Youth Baseball's second game of the Kanto Tournament, against Shiraishi Little League.

To Kōshū, the game seemed a little cruel. Or rather, he realized that once a pitcher stepped into the center of the diamond, he was like someone trapped in a cage. Even when facing a powerful opponent and wanting to flee, the moment he took even half a step back, the bars pressed against his back.

"Kōshū, what are you spacing out for?" Lang Zhi sat down beside Kōshū again. For some reason, he had been especially clingy lately.

Kōshū lowered his eyes. Whenever he looked up, he could not help glancing toward the opposing dugout. The pitcher no one approached spoke in a low voice. "Their pitcher has broken down."

"Yeah. Who would've thought they'd crush him by the third inning?" Unlike Kōshū, Lang Zhi practically wished he could have joined in.

"Hayakawa, seeing him like that... maybe he'll lose confidence in playing baseball." Kōshū turned his head away and stopped responding to Lang Zhi.

Hayakawa Aki frowned. Clearly, he felt much the same as Kōshū. "Yeah, but there's nothing they can do. Their ace hurt his foot. If they gave up the game outright, it would hit the team's morale even harder."

"Would Coach Ninomiya go easy on them..." Kōshū shook his head after saying it himself. "Then the fighting spirit they'd only just managed to gather would scatter again."

Shibasaki lightly tapped Kōshū on the head from behind. "Don't make that face. It's not like this is your first time watching a game. This is exactly the kind of thing pitchers have to face. Look, he's going back out there."

As Nozawa quickly retired three batters, Shiraishi's relief pitcher, who had barely caught his breath, took the mound again. He rose from the dugout, no longer hanging his head. Under his coach's questioning gaze, he pressed his lips together and nodded firmly. The coach hesitated for two seconds before finally turning back toward the field.

Since Ito still wants to go out there...

Although staying on the pitcher's mound was Ito's own choice, when he faced the batter who had hit his pitches in the previous at-bat, exhaustion welled up inside him. His hand could barely grip the ball, and he weighed the bag of anti-slip powder in his palm.

The catcher called for a low outside fastball. He did not shake his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw the batter staring right at him, his bat swaying back and forth in an especially irritating way. He did not want his pitch to get hit again. Without realizing it, his pitching form warped. With a whip of his arm, he threw a ball far wide of home plate.

It was a wild pitch. Ito should have apologized, but instead, he felt unbelievably relieved. At least his pitch had not been hit. That relief was like pressing an ice-cold drink against his face under the blazing sun—making him shiver from the chill while also making the heat in his body stand out even more.

Then came three more balls. The boy who had insisted on taking the mound seemed unable to find the strike zone anymore.

"They should change pitchers already, no matter what," Kōshū muttered.

Lang Zhi leaned closer. "What's wrong with you? You've been acting weird since earlier, always talking about their pitcher."

Kōshū sighed. "How could a single-celled organism like you understand?" After successfully angering Lang Zhi, Kōshū felt a little better. He also found his own state somewhat strange.

Maybe it was because he had heard that this team had made it to the third round relying on a relief pitcher alone, which had made him curious. He had expected to see a thrilling game, but instead, he watched a pitcher standing alone against an entire team.

"This won't do, Shiraishi. They can't keep playing like this."

Shiraishi's catcher was the first to move. He called time and looked at the pitcher hanging his head. "Ito, that's enough. Nakamura is warmed up already."

The pitcher said nothing. He only watched tiredly as the catcher signaled toward the dugout. Then someone came over and said something to him, but he was not listening. He still held the ball in his hand, and only when he reached the dugout did he realize it.

"He's finally off the field." Kōshū let out a breath.

Shibasaki said meaningfully, "Kōshū, relax. Our team would never leave a pitcher to fight alone."

The rest of the game was garbage time. Shiraishi Little League sent out a first-year player, whom Kinoshita Youth Baseball treated like a pitching machine. Coach Ninomiya replaced most of the starters with substitutes, and Kinoshita Little League ultimately won by a landslide.

"I still want to play," Lang Zhi grumbled without a care. Kōshū looked over the short boy's unruly head toward the pitcher's mound. That bobbing head also stopped, then turned toward the same place.

"What is it? Are you still thinking about that pitcher? Is it because you're stressed about officially joining the Second String? Don't think about it. You're way better than him."

Kōshū raised his eyebrows in surprise and listened leisurely as the short boy tried to comfort him.

"Hey—playing ball with your brothers is great, but you two are way too conspicuous." The others teased them as they headed toward the dugout together.

"What did you think of?" Hayakawa Aki pushed Kōshū from behind.

"I just suddenly understood what kind of place the pitcher's mound is, from watching that pitcher struggle."

Before coming to Japan, Kōshū had not even known what baseball was. After he started playing, he had never viewed himself as part of a team. He had simply been playing baseball. It was not until actual games with the Second String, when he stood on the pitcher's mound for the first time—not on a bullpen mat, but with dirt beneath his feet, teammates shouting behind him, and a batter before him—that the tense air of the field truly entered his lungs for the first time.

"Kōshū, a pitcher who struck out that many people in his first real game will make the upperclassmen want to hit him if he starts wallowing in self-pity." Shibasaki quietly warned him.

"Eh, is this self-pity?" Kōshū showed an honest smile, and under the stares of the teammates ahead of him, there was not the slightest sign of it cracking.

"Pfft—serves you right." Lang Zhi snickered darkly. When Kōshū said that, it was like a top student who got perfect scores every time and grew up receiving praise from his parents, then occasionally saw a poor student get beaten up and sighed about how hard being a student was. It was infuriating.

Kōshū hurriedly tried to make himself less noticeable. Just then, the coaching staff came over, making the upperclassmen abandon their thoughts of bullying him.

The coaching staff came to a stop, and one head of blond hair caught everyone's attention.

Coach Ninomiya looked over the players before introducing him. "This is the newly arrived Coach Kinoshita. From now on, he'll mainly teach you batting." He pressed down with one hand, stopping the players from applauding, then angled his body slightly toward the blond-haired man behind him. "Coach Kinoshita, introduce yourself."

Eh? Kinoshita Yanagi had thought he was just here to take a look around today. With Coach Ninomiya's old-fashioned personality, he would definitely prevent him from causing trouble on his first day and would not let him speak.

"Ahem. I'm Kinoshita Yanagi, and I'll be your batting coach from now on." Then he inclined his body and let Coach Ninomiya continue. What a joke. If he acted recklessly in front of the team on his first day, someone would definitely report him to his mother again. He would not have an easy day after that.

Coach Ninomiya calmly picked up where he left off. "Coach Kinoshita Yanagi previously coached in the American Minor League for three years and has extensive coaching experience. Make sure you all learn from him properly from now on."

Kinoshita Yanagi stood quietly in the back like a quail, not daring to make a sound. Even after the team dispersed, he followed everyone to the meeting room. Lagging behind, he unfortunately ended up walking shoulder to shoulder with Coach Ninomiya.

"Kinoshita, dye that yellow hair back today."

Well, this old man Ninomiya was still the same old man Ninomiya.

After going through a devilish work report, I was finally back.

Has anyone ever seen a boss like this? Everyone in an entire department had to finish reporting on Thursday, from 9:30 in the morning all the way until 8:30 at night. In the end, she grandly said, "If we don't finish the reports, no one can work properly." But those in the know understood that she wanted to free up a workday for everyone to write her project completion report and performance review.

For one of her quarterly reports, three managers waited on her. For one of her project completion reports, five people waited on her. The first draft had to be ready by next Monday, so those people had to work overtime for her over the weekend. I really wanted to embrace socialism.