Home Run Tournament

The Kanto Tournament was over. Everyone seemed to have instantly found their next goal. Those planning to attend public schools were taking the unified entrance exams, while the First String regulars had all decided where they would continue playing baseball. The once-packed field suddenly had far fewer people.

In the bullpen, Senior Nozawa, who was always joining in on the excitement, and the ever-reliable Senior Ido were gone. Hayakawa Aki was the new captain, and many former Second String members had moved up to the First String, including Kōshū and two other pitchers.

It had been nearly two months since Kōshū joined Kinoshita Club. While testing everyone's abilities, the coaching staff decided to assess Kōshū's progress over those two months, mainly his basic physical fitness and pitching ability.

The events tested back in September were brought out again.

"Mm, your grip strength and bench press have both improved significantly. Looks like pitching training has strengthened your upper body quite a bit, Kōshū." Coach Fujii flipped through the previous figures and spoke to Kōshū when he had a moment.

"Yes. I hadn't trained my upper body enough before, so the improvement was more obvious."

"Still, compared to your explosive power, it's a bit lacking." Kōshū had just practiced sprints with the other pitchers. He ran between bases much faster than the others, though he had never practiced before, so his baserunning technique was terrible.

"Your height and weight haven't changed much either." At that, Coach Fujii's face wrinkled like a chrysanthemum. One after another, all fine young men—why wouldn't they put on any weight? He looked at Shibasaki, who was testing his bench press, and thought, Be satisfied. It's good enough if that one's weight doesn't go down.

The pitchers were tested first. Once Kōshū and the other pitchers finished, a commotion came from outside, from the outdoor field. Some long-unheard voices could be heard mixed within it.

"Senior Nozawa's voice?" Kōshū poked his head out and, sure enough, it was them. The group that had retired after their third year had returned together today. Their purpose was clear: they had taken the registration sheets from the assistant coaches and were helping record the results while everyone else underwent testing.

One tall boy was searching through the crowd for something. After several sweeps without finding it, he shifted where he stood and spotted Kōshū poking his head out of the training room.

"Hey, Kōshū, are you pitchers done testing?" It was Senior Heishi. He seemed to have been deliberately looking for Kōshū.

"We just finished, Senior Heishi." Kōshū greeted Coach Fujii before coming out. In an instant, he felt gazes from every direction. Though only for an instant, the third-years all withdrew their eyes again.

"Wh... what's going on? Why is everyone looking at me?" Kōshū's steps slowed with hesitation, but then Senior Nozawa pounced from behind and knocked into him, leaving him no time to think.

"Hey, Missile-kun! How are you feeling today?" Senior Nozawa asked for no apparent reason.

"Not... bad? But really, what's going on? I've got this creepy feeling. Are you planning something?" Kōshū struggled against his senior's iron-like arm, only for another third-year to press down on his shoulder.

"Haha, Kōshū, your pitches are still accurate today, right? For me, I want them outside and just above the knees. You can throw ten pitches in a row right there, can't you?"

"Huh? But didn't you seniors retire? Why do you want to hit my pitches today?" Kōshū's face grew even more confused.

He hurried to break free, but it was no longer up to him. Seniors' voices came from all around.

"My best zone is high and outside. You have to throw all ten to exactly the same spot..."

"Damn it, I never hit a home run in an official game throughout middle school. This time, Kōshū, you have to let me hit to my heart's content."

"Ten. I want to hit ten home runs."

"You cocky brat, I'm going to bat you until you cry today." A strange shout had slipped into the mix.

So what was this supposed to be? Kōshū had a face full of question marks, with no one answering him. He could only listen as the seniors discussed things all at once.

So today, I was supposed to take the Pitcher's Mound and throw ten pitches to each senior. Those ten pitches had to go into each senior's strongest zone, ensuring they hit ten home runs? Kōshū pieced the information together.

Senior Nozawa rubbed Kōshū's head. "This is a celebration for the retired members—the Home Run Tournament. Haha, they all know how accurate your pitches are, so they wanted you to pitch for them to hit. Of course, the coaches set a limit of ten pitches per person so you wouldn't get too tired."

"Huh? The coaches are involved too? But ten pitches per person means 170 pitches..." Kōshū was speechless after being introduced to this Baseball Club tradition.

"Relax, relax. Haven't you seen the Japanese Professional League Home Run Tournament? Go take a look. We're not trying to bully you."

Kōshū was handed a phone, and only then did he learn that such an event existed.

Thus, with the retired members helping out, the day's testing ended very quickly. Next came the retirement event the third-year seniors had been eagerly anticipating for so long—the Home Run Tournament.

It was Kōshū's first time being so popular with the seniors. They practically escorted him behind the protective net like he was the center of attention.

"Kōshū, I want a Middle-Middle Ball." The senior who grabbed the first spot was a little nervous.

"Okay. Then give me a signal whenever you're ready, Senior, and I'll throw the next pitch."

After receiving a response from the other side, Kōshū took a clean ball from the basket beside him. On the team, clean balls were used by pitchers first, then by fielders after the pitchers were done, and only used for batting after that. But the balls the seniors were hitting today were brand-new ones specially prepared by the coaches.

The first pitch was perfectly middle-middle. The senior hit it far, but it was a little slow and dropped in center field. It would probably have been an easy catch.

The senior adjusted himself, but he did not dare waste time. He quickly gave another signal, and Kōshū threw another pitch to the same middle-middle spot. This time, fortunately, it became a home run, and everyone gathered nearby cheered together.

Kōshū took another ball and drew a circle in the air.

The third pitch came next, then the fourth, all the way to the tenth. Kōshū had already found the senior's batting rhythm and could pitch comfortably for him to hit.

In the end, the senior left the Batter's Box happily with his five home runs, not forgetting to praise him. "Your pitches are accurate. Good work."

Kōshū wiped away his sweat and glanced at the coaches mingling with the players. He did not dare say anything and simply served all seventeen seniors. Later on, his pitching grew smoother and smoother, and he could practically let every senior hit a home run.

This is really exhausting. But after watching the seniors fool around, then carefully and seriously look around them as though they wanted to take in the field a few more times and etch it deeply into their memories, Kōshū felt a parting sadness slowly fill his heart.

"What is it, Kōshū? You look so melancholy!" The person pouncing on him from behind was, as expected, Senior Nozawa again.

Kōshū patiently removed Nozawa's arm from his shoulder. "Senior Nozawa, don't lean on me like this."

"Haha, who told you to grow so tall?" Then his expression turned serious. "By the way, you'll be this team's ace pitcher from now on. Let me pass on some ace experience to you."

Today was very late, and this chapter was very short, because I saw off a coworker who was leaving today and didn't eat dinner until nine-thirty.

Speaking of which, quite a few companies have been laying people off recently. This coworker took an N+1 severance package and left.

Another coworker who sits across from me was a campus recruit this year. She had already told the managers she wanted to leave, even mentioning that she planned to take the civil service exams afterward. But company policy protects campus recruits, and they can't be laid off within their first year, so she was stuck staying behind... Apparently, her department had a meeting today, and the managers never once called on her or assigned her any work... So awkward. That means she can only resign herself, and then she won't get the N+1 compensation either...

Tomorrow will probably be late too, because I have an exam tomorrow...