In January, Japan was still gripped by biting cold. The suffocating Winter Training had finally passed, and the muscle soreness from the intensive practices gradually faded with the holiday rest. Everyone was once again enthusiastically practicing baseball on the field—except for one person.
"You mean that during winter break, you secretly went out for several days in a row to practice a new Changeup?"
"Yes..."
During club time on an overcast afternoon in the new semester, inside the head coach's office at Kinoshita Junior Baseball Club, Kōshū's throat was dry, and he could not stop swallowing. Yet it did not make him feel any better. Instead, the moisture in his mouth seemed to diminish further.
Five minutes had passed since he answered Coach Ninomiya's previous question.
Coach Ninomiya was still bent over his paperwork, seemingly having forgotten that someone was sitting across from him.
Only the sound of a pen scratching across paper remained in the silent office. Kōshū's attention gradually drifted toward the sounds outside. The wind howled, vibrations came from somewhere unknown, and even the office windows trembled slightly. Among all those sounds, the most prominent were the shouts of the baseball boys.
What lap are they on now? Kōshū absentmindedly wondered. Just then, Coach Ninomiya's voice broke the silence.
"Kōshū, you used to train in sprinting, right? Tell me, why do we have Winter Training?" Coach Ninomiya had dealt with many children and was well versed in guiding conversations step by step.
Kōshū froze for a moment, but after being left hanging for five minutes, he was no longer as nervous as before. His mind began turning properly again.
"If you stop training just because the winter weather is bad, your performance will quickly decline."
That was the most direct answer. Coach Ninomiya nodded.
"During winter training, there are no competitions, so both coaches and athletes can focus solely on practice. And training in such harsh weather produces better results."
"Mm, you've covered most of the key points." The old man added, "It is understandable that a short break in training causes performance to decline. But why does training in harsh weather produce better results?"
There it was again—the relentless questioning method.
"Based on my own experience, the human body is less active in winter than in summer, and it tends to store fat. Training at such a time goes against the body's natural cycle, so it can bring greater results."
"Mm, very well said. That is why Winter Training is a regular part of many different sports around the world, just like sprinting used to be for you. So here is the question: why does the team take such a long break over Christmas instead of continuing Winter Training?"
Coach Ninomiya's patient guidance made Kōshū feel too ashamed to say the answer.
"...To let the body recover."
"That's right!" Coach Ninomiya finally raised his head. "Actually, you missed one benefit of Winter Training: persisting in exercise under harsh weather conditions tempers a person's willpower. So Winter Training is not only training for the muscles, soft tissues, and so on. It also trains the nerve cells. And rest after Winter Training has two parts as well: rest for the muscles, and rest for one's willpower—that is, the nerve cells. People cannot remain under constant pressure forever. That applies to adults, and even more so to adolescents like you."
Kōshū met the old man's gaze, then lowered his head without speaking.
"Resting your willpower sounds rather abstract, doesn't it? Let me give you a real example. With continuous weightlifting, you will soon hit a plateau. If you keep increasing the intensity at that point, your performance may even worsen. But if you rest for two days in between, you can immediately break through that plateau next time. Two days may not be enough time for your muscles to grow much, but they can quickly restore your mental state. A person's reserve of willpower has an enormous impact on performance."
Coach Ninomiya paused, giving the middle schooler time to digest and think.
"So what did I tell you before Christmas? I told you all to rest properly. Since you're children, use that time to do what children should do—sleep in, watch TV, play games, go out with friends. Especially pitchers. You absolutely must not train recklessly where your coach cannot see you."
Kōshū lowered his head even further. He knew this would happen. Coach Ninomiya would not yell at or physically punish his players, but he would patiently analyze everything until you felt ashamed yourself. Once I get through this talk, it'll be fine. What's done is done, and this pitch is so effective...
But he still did not understand Coach Ninomiya well enough.
"Since you did not rest over Christmas, you can rest this week instead."
"Huh—Coach Ninomiya..." Before Kōshū could voice his protest, the old man cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"This week, you will only warm up with everyone else. Each day, you may throw only thirty pitches to maintain your condition. You will participate in fielding practice once every other day. As for the rest of your time, you need not sit idle. The equipment staff has plenty of worn-out balls. Go learn how to sew baseballs."
"Ah—" Kōshū finally realized how serious this was. There was still an Intra-squad Practice Match this weekend. At this rate, he would not be able to play.
"Kōshū," the old man understood those thoughts perfectly well, "why does the middle school baseball league strictly limit pitchers to a maximum of eighty pitches a day? Isn't it because some pitchers and coaches act recklessly? Middle school is still a time when you are growing. What use is piling on extra training until you burn yourself out during middle school?"
"Kōshū, I remember telling you half a year ago that our coaching staff unanimously believed you might be able to enter professional baseball. So as your first coaches, we must make good use of your talent. Aside from a few exceptionally gifted pitchers, the more ordinary people use their shoulders, the greater the wear and tear, and the sooner they break down."
"Coach, I promise—"
"Alright, alright, I understand. If you truly cannot sit still, then go for a run. Oh, right, I have already informed your family. Rest properly this week."
After saying that, Coach Ninomiya lowered his head and returned to his paperwork. Kōshū had no choice but to begin his miserable week with this "punishment."
"Ha ha ha ha!" Lang Zhi was the first to mock him. "I told you, if you trained like that, Coach would definitely punish you."
Then he was used as a cautionary example, making his presence known in front of the entire team.
"Pfft, Kōshū, I never expected you to be this fired up." In the changing room after that day's training, everyone who passed by teased him like that.
"Kōshū, are you alright? We can warm up with you this week." That came from the concerned Hayakawa Aki, Shibasaki, and the others.
"Ah, you guys really are the best. Hayakawa, today I only ran and learned to sew baseballs. I still haven't thrown those thirty pitches..."
Hayakawa, who had just been wearing a worried expression, immediately turned around and faced away from Kōshū. "Nope. Training is about to end already. There's no need for you to pitch now."
"Ha ha ha ha!" Lang Zhi, who had watched the entire scene, laughed so hard he clutched his stomach. It was rare for him to see his older brother get shut down like this. Wanting to hear more clearly, he unknowingly edged closer to the center of the storm—only for the dejected Kōshū to seize him by the neck.
"But Coach Ninomiya never said I'm not allowed to teach an arrogant little brother a lesson this week."
"Ah—why am I always at the end of the chain?!"
Kōshū: Useful Skill +1
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