Pre-Race Preparations

"But if I don't lift my foot, won't the rotational power be weaker?" Kōshū asked cautiously.

"Right now, you're still relying mostly on instinct to hit, aren't you? So why not let the ball come a little closer, make the pitch path more certain, and rely on your physical ability—you should be able to manage it."

"Okay—" Kōshū was still a bit hesitant. Though he hadn't been in the baseball world long, everything he'd learned and seen about swinging involved first lifting the foot, pulling inward, then stepping forward, using the hip's rotation to channel full-body power into the swing.

Kōshū followed Kinoshita's demonstration and swung a few times, but couldn't find the feel.

"Even if you don't lift your left foot, your left hip still tucks inward before the swing—that gives you more reaction time. It might not be obvious at the junior high level, but once you grow past 190 cm as an adult, your physical ability will be astonishing. This little difficulty is nothing for you."

Because Kōshū's physical potential was extremely strong—similar to the big-framed white players Kinoshita Yanagi had seen in America—this swing stance actually suited him better. That's why he'd approached Kōshū first.

"If you can't find the feel, start with the tee. You've only just begun playing baseball, so your swing form is still easy to adjust." They say a new broom sweeps clean—since he was back, he had to put his own stamp on things. At this stage, the other players had been practicing hitting under Coach Maeda for a long time; if he stepped in to guide them now, he might ruin their hitting feel.

Kōshū was suspicious inside, but on the surface he agreed. Shibasaki, beside him, was diligent—in a daze, he'd already fetched the tee for Kōshū. During the afternoon training session, Kinoshita Yanagi didn't spare a single glance at the first string's practice; he stayed mixed in with the second string.

The boys who'd been intimidated by Kinoshita Yanagi's "Little League Coach" title started stirring. Hayakawa Aki was pushed forward, the first to seek guidance from the new hitting coach.

"Coach Kinoshita, I'm not very good at hitting outside corner balls. Could you help me with some pointers?"

"Of course. Hayakawa Aki-kun, right? I've watched your hitting footage. Your swing timing is a bit early, so you tend to pop up high flies."

"Eh, Coach Kinoshita knows my name."

"Of course. I know everyone here." So today, he hadn't even had the players introduce themselves before jumping straight into training.

Hayakawa Aki gained a bit more respect for this coach in his heart—he must have spent a lot of time memorizing the entire team roster and matching faces. So he listened very carefully to Kinoshita Yanagi's instruction.

"Also, your swing speed is a bit slow. The peak power output of each body part should be sequential, so the force can transfer like a chain without wasting energy. Power doesn't necessarily mean speed—only reasonable force application brings speed. It's basically the same as a pitcher's situation." At this moment, Kinoshita Yanagi, with his dyed black hair and black-rimmed glasses, surprisingly came off as reliable.

"So, in my view, you need to improve your adaptability to balls at different tempos. Outside corner balls are far from the body; inside corner balls are the opposite. If you use the same body force state to hit an outside corner ball, forcing the bat to reach, you'll inevitably lose energy. So you must be able to adjust your body state once you detect it's an outside corner ball. Do you understand what I mean?" He seemed a bit unaccustomed to the weight on his nose bridge and adjusted his glasses.

"You mean, with the same starting speed, after distinguishing the pitch type, you switch gears?"

"Exactly that. You need to keep strengthening your body control." He pointed at Kōshū again. "You can start with the tee too. First, clearly separate the two states, then add toss drills into the net, and finally, live practice against a pitcher's inside and outside corner balls."

"Okay, I'll give it a good try." Though he carried the group's responsibility to pry for gossip, Hayakawa Aki was a veteran at gathering info—he knew not to be rash here. So he stepped aside and started mulling over his own hitting.

With Hayakawa Aki breaking the ice, the rest followed smoothly. Kōshū was still off to the side practicing on the tee, with Shibasaki checking his form for any deviations.

"Thanks, Shibasaki-kun. But is it just me, or do you care about my hitting even more than I do?"

"A pitcher without firepower support on the field is miserable. So if the pitcher himself is a strong hitter, his control over the game becomes stronger." Shibasaki's tone was still gentle.

"Control over the game?"

"Right. On defense, the pitcher is the center. On offense, if the pitcher can also be a core batter, doesn't that mean, in a way, he's completely dominating the game's direction?" Unexpectedly domineering.

"Shibasaki-kun, do you want to become that kind of pitcher?"

"No. At my current stage, the pitcher's homework is already enough. I think you can become that kind of person, so I have high expectations for you~"

Just like parents place unfulfilled dreams on their children, everyone projects their own wishes onto those around them. Shibasaki, still wrestling with his own digestive system, knew his future development path very well. And because he understood his own road so clearly, watching Kōshū head in that direction didn't spark jealousy—only a kind of nurturing interest.

"I don't really get it, but thanks for the expectations?" Kōshū's puzzled expression amused Shibasaki.

The two alternated hitting like this until the day's training ended.

In the meeting room, the usual briefing took place. Coach Ninomiya held a stack of materials and handed them out to everyone, but none of the players looked down—they stared straight ahead. "This is all the data on Jonan Little League from two days from now. They should be the strongest team we've faced since the Kanto Tournament. So everyone, make sure to memorize their player info."

"Yes, sir!"

Then Coach Yoshida, the infield group coach, took the stage. He'd edited together several of Jonan Little League's games from the Kanto Tournament.

"Lead-off batter, Carlos. His specialty is extremely fast base running—he's Jonan's trailblazer." He started the footage, including a clip of Carlos reaching base on an infield ground ball, stealing second from first, and charging home from second.

Pausing the video, he had everyone flip to the first page of their handouts. "He's mixed-race, so his wingspan is longer than an Asian's. That's very advantageous for hitting outside corner balls. Data I got from the official scorer shows that other hitters have about a 5% higher chance of hitting poorly on outside corner balls compared to Carlos. However, possibly due to lack of power, Carlos's outside corner ball contact tends to land shallow, so the right fielder should play a bit forward."

The right fielders answered in unison. The entire Kinoshita Little League would coordinate with the battery's pitch strategy and the batter's weaknesses to set up targeted defenses—this required all players to understand the reasoning beforehand.

"But don't make it too obvious. Just two steps forward."

"Next, the second batter..."

When Coach Yoshida finished covering Jonan Little League's entire starting lineup, about an hour had passed. Coach Ninomiya wrapped up: "We just finished a game yesterday, and we have another in two days. The Kanto Tournament's pace will quicken as the teams shrink, and the ones left are all tough nuts. The easy wins from the first two games won't happen. Keep that in mind!"

"Yes, sir!"

All the second-string members were also involved in the game simulation this time. Following the order of first batter—fast base running, second batter—high batting average, third batter—high hitting technique, fourth batter—power, they gave the first string a low-tier version of Jonan Little League to experience.

Among them, the second string's fourth batter was Kōshū. He'd just broken 70 kg in weight, but his control over his body's power was already very strong. Since he wasn't used to the new swing stance yet, he reverted to his old method. Even so, he put immense pressure on Senior Nozawa from the first string.

'I just showed him a fastball in this spot. Now let's throw a beautiful slider—he probably won't react in time to hit it well.' Captain Ido kept his glove on the outside corner and flashed the signal.

Nozawa glanced at the batter on first base to relax himself. Kōshū's gaze from across was too sharp, like a beast that fed on baseball.

"Hah—" Adrenaline made him incredibly fired up. A beautiful slider cut across in front of Kōshū.

"See you~" Kōshū drove it through the gap between first and second, landing in front of the right fielder.

"You little brat, don't greet your senior that way!" Senior Nozawa threw a tantrum on the pitcher's mound, but he didn't seem genuinely angry. This was something Kōshū had slowly figured out—different ways to communicate with different people. Senior Nozawa was the type who didn't care much about senior-junior relationships.

Since it was a practice match, the second string only needed to help the first string adapt to the opponent's traits. After a 10-minute break midway, the second string went straight back up to bat. This cycle repeated until both first-string pitchers had gone through four rounds each, ending the training. Tomorrow was the quarterfinals.

After the quarterfinals, the Kanto Tournament would move to the Official Stadium, and tickets would go on sale.

"Huh? No Miyuki in the quarterfinals?" Kōshū flipped through the tournament bracket and didn't see Miyuki's team.

"Yeah, they got eliminated last round. They played four games, but their opponent, Marugame Little League, played one fewer game, so they lost to them."

"Again?"

"There was a catcher from Marugame Little League who was called the 'First Iron Catcher.' Miyuki was always pretty frustrated with him, mainly because he never managed to win against him. Now it seems that even after the guy left, he still can't win. He must be pretty depressed." Asking Hayakawa Aki was definitely the right call.

"I knew it. He was going on and on about dragging me to the sports store, and then suddenly he went quiet." It had been three or four days since he'd last bothered him. Kōshū, relieved, felt a rare bit of pity for Miyuki.

"Miyuki doesn't get along well with pitchers, does he." Kōshū was editing a text message. Since watching the game was boring anyway, riling up Miyuki a little wouldn't hurt.

Hayakawa Aki watched Kōshū, who was eagerly preparing to send Miyuki a photo of the field. Why does Kō-kun feel so different from when he first joined the team? Is it just my imagination? He seems more and more childish.

This week is hell week.

Cry out loud.