By the end of February, they had gone on to win two more practice games by large margins over the past two weeks. Kōshū had pitched another Complete Game Shutout in one, while Shibasaki and Sato had alternated pitching duties in the other. After being fed so much for so long, the boys had gradually adapted to the rhythm of competition.
"Look," Lang Zhi said around his toothbrush and a mouthful of foam. "Abdominal muscles!"
After several months of consistent strength training, the results had begun to show on him.
Kōshū came out of the bathroom and casually jabbed the boy in the navel with a hand still wet from cold water. Ignoring the yelps behind him, he thought, This guy has gotten sturdier again lately. He's getting harder to subdue when we practice fighting. Maybe I need to study it properly. Protecting my dignity as the older brother can't wait.
As he passed the open kitchen, he greeted Mr. Sasaki, who was humming while making coffee. Kōshū still had mixed feelings about him. At first, he had thought the man was one hundred percent a hopelessly nice guy. Then he had gradually noticed all sorts of flaws in him: taking everything on himself, only to leave Shen Qing to deal with the aftermath; always speaking from the assumptions of his own world. For instance, he naturally assumed Lang Zhi would keep playing baseball, and that the two brothers would play baseball together. In the end, things had worked out fairly well, but there was always something uncomfortable about it.
He sat at the dining table and shook out the newspaper, its wide-open pages hiding his entire upper body.
The scent of coffee spread through the living room. Kōshū was not used to having it for breakfast, but he liked