The Road Ahead

This team was a lively yet disciplined organization. Kōshū and the other newcomer were greeted in turn by the entire team over the course of one meal. One guy even carried his tray over and put on a show of eating a fist-sized chicken wing, spitting out the bone in one go. Amid the crowd's cheers, he bowed and took his leave.

After the meal, everyone was herded out to the field for a walk to aid digestion. The straggling line stretched out long. Kōshū mixed in with the Infield Group. Lang Zhi had already found an elementary school classmate and was chatting about mutual acquaintances—namely, complaining about various teachers.

"So that bald math teacher was your homeroom teacher? Man, you guys really had it rough."

"Tell me about it. Who knew our last year would be stuck with that demon."

"Haha, you two are exaggerating," a bystander laughed.

"No, really, a demon. Right, Sasaki?"

"Just thinking about it gives me the creeps," Lang Zhi replied.

The two of them launched into tales of the demonic math teacher's atrocities. Kōshū lingered at the edge of the group, half-listening.

Suddenly, his eyes caught a pair of eyes ahead. It seemed to be that Second String Catcher, Hayakawa Aki. He had stopped at the side, as if waiting for someone—and it looked like that someone was him. Kōshū gave a small nod in greeting, and the other fell into step beside him.

"Kōshū-kun, after today's practice, Coach Ninomiya wants you to come to his office."

Kōshū was a bit surprised but agreed anyway.

Hayakawa explained, "It's probably about arranging your training. By the way, your pitches are pretty interesting. You can find me for warm-ups from now on."

Just as the two of them started their conversation, a commotion broke out nearby: "No way, you two are brothers?"

"You don't look alike at all." "Different last names too."

"Don't shout so loud! It's remarriage, remarriage!" That was Lang Zhi, trying to salvage his slip-up. "Don't yell so loud."

Kōshū silently endured everyone's stares, then turned to look at the short kid who was deliberately avoiding his gaze.

"Haha, little brothers are always such a handful." Watching the middle schoolers dive into another topic, Hayakawa laughed. Kōshū asked, "Hayakawa-kun has younger brothers too?"

"Two. One is two years younger than me, and the other is my cousin, but he's lived with us since we were kids, like a real brother."

"Your house must be lively, then. I only have one, and it's already chaos."

"Yeah. When we were little, our parents were out and told me to look after them. They ended up fighting, so I pulled them apart, and they sat on the floor crying. Ah, so noisy. Right then, our parents were about to come home. If they saw both little brothers crying, they'd definitely blame me, so I sat down and cried too." Hayakawa Aki was a cheerful kid, his smile carrying a hint of helplessness at his past self, which made Kōshū laugh too.

"What happened in the end? Did you get scolded?"

"No, hahaha. Thinking back now, the moment our parents opened the door, they were hit by a wave of crying from three kids. It must have given them a headache."

The weather was great today, unexpectedly not stuffy.

After being herded onto the field for a ten-minute walk, some people couldn't resist touching the ball anymore. But they didn't do anything intense—just catch and throw. "Hayakawa-kun, want to play catch?" Hayakawa agreed readily.

After a few tosses, Kōshū couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"When do we start afternoon practice?"

"Didn't Grandma Gu Yue tell you? We digest for half an hour, then nap for half an hour, then start afternoon practice around 2."

"One more thing I've been wanting to ask—have your members been here long?"

"Yeah. I moved nearby in fifth grade and have been here ever since, almost three years now. Most people joined in elementary school."

"Ah, so we're both second-years in middle school."

Slowly, starting with two or three, then four or five, everyone trickled into the Indoor Training Field.

"Kōshū-kun, time for a nap. If you keep moving, you won't be able to sleep at all." Hayakawa put the ball in the bin and led Kōshū back. The artificial turf of the Indoor Training Field was covered with mattresses, and the air conditioner was on.

Over there, Lang Zhi was waving at him. The two grabbed a random mat, rolled up their baseball uniforms as pillows, and lay down. Kōshū thought he wouldn't be able to sleep, but when he woke up, it was to the coach urging them to get up.

'After resting, I feel full of energy, and my arm doesn't ache anymore.' He helped the support staff fold and stack the mats, then afternoon training began.

Warm-ups were the usual running and stretching. The field was already set up. While everyone else ran off to hit, Kōshū followed Coach Yoshioka to the side, where he stood in front of a T-stand and started correcting his swing.

"Keep your back straight, but don't stick your chest out. Relax your upper body."

"In your stance, lift your back right arm. Keep your left arm tight. But when you swing, both arms should stay close to your body. The process of your back arm going from relaxed to tight also accelerates your swing. That's why you lift your back arm in the ready position."

"Swing flat from the side and hit the ball. That's good. Remember this feeling."

A thin layer of sweat formed on Kōshū's forehead. 'Man, this coach teaches at such a fast pace. So many key points to remember. Stacking them up one by one, I have to keep what I learned before while modifying some things without breaking the old ones. It's really hard.'

But across from him, Coach Yoshioka was thinking to himself, 'Not bad. He has good control over his body.'

Just as Kōshū was getting a feel for his swing, before he could catch his breath, Yoshioka removed the T-stand and started tossing balls for him to hit.

"Whew—" By the time Coach Yoshioka told him to observe the live practice, Kōshū was already exhausted.

'Baseball... it's not quite what I imagined. Constant repetition, correction, repetition. The excitement only lasts a moment; most of the time it's just boring.' He wiped his sweat and went back outside. Everyone on the field had already taken their positions.

Coach Ninomiya stood in front of home plate, his bat resting on the ball bucket beside him.

"First round. Four groups take turns. Half a bucket of balls per group. My hits will go anywhere. Stay sharp."

"First scenario: no one on base. Catcher, make sure to call it out."

"Ready?!"

"Hai—!"

Coach Ninomiya's first swing, first ball, shot straight through the gap between first and second base. The catcher shouted, "First base!" The ball rolled in front of the Right Fielder. He scooped it up with one hand and fired it to first base.

Second batter: hit straight to the Shortstop. The Shortstop dove and stopped it. Amid everyone's shouts of "First base!", he threw to first.

"Shout it out!"

The third batter hit a ball that just barely sailed over the second baseman's head. The second baseman lunged but still couldn't reach it. The center fielder was playing shallow, so he charged in and threw to first.

"Kitahara, Fujiwara, Yoshino—why are all three of you outfielders playing so shallow? The next batter is a power hitter. Right-handed batter, right-handed pitcher, specializes in pushing the ball. Last few games, batting average .500. Last game, he hit a home run. Think fast about how you're going to defend!"

'Huh, on-the-spot quiz, huh.' For once, the two brothers observing on the side were on the same wavelength.

Everyone on the field shifted positions in silent understanding. The second baseman moved directly behind the line between first and second. The shortstop came over to second. The third baseman positioned himself between second and third. The right fielder dropped back deep. This ball was a long hit, but because the second baseman was right there to field it, it was quickly relayed to first.

Coach Ninomiya hit half a bucket of balls, then stopped to catch his breath. "Switch groups!"

By the time all four groups had rotated through, an hour and a half had passed, and it was 4:30. By then, the coach swinging the fungo bat had been replaced by the infield group coach—Coach Yoshida.

"Back to group one. This time, the pitcher comes in. Group two, get ready to bat. Restricted to outside corner balls."

The same person they'd seen in the bullpen that day ran up to the pitcher's mound. He was a somewhat scholarly-looking boy, with well-developed jawline and sharp, downward-turned mouth corners that gave him a calm, intellectual vibe.

'Feels like he'd be really good at taking tests...' Lang Zhi couldn't help practicing his swing beside him.

First pitch: fastball, around 130 km/h, high outside corner, foul ball.

Second pitch: slider, breaking toward the outside corner, landing in the ball zone. Batter held back.

Third pitch: glove set low outside corner, ball hit the sweet spot, single.

Fastball plus slider. Looked like the pitcher only had those two pitches. As for control, out of ten pitches, three or four were far from the glove. The pitcher smoothly retired three batters, took off his cap, wiped sweat, and walked off, letting out a deep breath.

'A duel situation, and restricted to outside corners. Looks like there's pressure. Wonder when I'll get to step up.' Kōshū held the ball in his hand, slowly warming it up.

In the final duel, the two losing groups had to stay behind to clean up the field, but almost everyone stayed anyway. Kōshū joined in, picking up balls. As he brushed past others, he could still feel the heat radiating from their bodies. 'I really want to play.'

"Lang Zhi, wait for me in the indoor training field later. Coach Ninomiya wants me to go to the staff room for a talk." Kōshū decided that during the conversation, he'd express his desire to join the team as soon as possible.

Maybe that feeling showed on his face. When Coach Ninomiya finished summarizing the day's work and returned to his office, he took one look at Kōshū, as if all the words he'd prepared were overturned. His first question was: "Kōshū-kun, have you ever stretched plastic wrap?"

Kōshū was taken aback. Before he could answer, Coach Ninomiya sat down across from him, leaned back in his chair, and though he didn't complain, the momentary lapse and comfortable expression as he settled into the backrest made Kōshū realize this man wasn't young anymore.

Coach Ninomiya sat up straight and placed his water cup between them: "Kōshū-kun, let's say this water is the nutrients you absorb every day. These nutrients will either make your current body stronger or make you taller. But there's always a limit. Even though your ceiling is rising, if you had to choose, would you use them to get taller or to get stronger?"

Kōshū seemed to catch on, so he said meaningfully, "Half and half."

"Haha. You're 13 now, already 182 cm, and you've grown 2 cm in the last six months. As for the nutrients you absorb, about 70-80% goes to growing taller."

"Back to the plastic wrap. If you pull the same length of wrap in opposite directions, it gets thinner. Same with people. With limited nutrients and limited time, growing too tall too fast means your bone density is insufficient, making you prone to injury. Because you don't have muscle to protect you. Why? Because the nutrients went to height, not muscle. Do you understand now?"

Kōshū quickly nodded, focusing all his attention. The feeling was oddly familiar, like seeing a doctor back in China. Normally, with too many patients, doctors were too busy to explain, just telling you what tests to take and what medicine to take. But occasionally, if you caught a less busy time, the doctor had time to explain the condition and the reasoning behind the medication in detail.

"So, don't rush. Today, you and your brother were observing, but you'll learn fast. You have to build a solid foundation first. Especially note: don't practice extra at home. The club's training volume is enough. When you leave the club, you only need to rest." The wrinkles on Coach Ninomiya's brow smoothed out, and his expression turned somewhat kind.

Kōshū nodded again. Sure enough, this was a head coach who'd handled many kids. His original plan to practice pitching at home vanished.

"Many kids have come through here. In the end, very few actually play baseball professionally. But because of the baseball they learned here, everyone ended up with a hobby they could invest in for life." Coach Ninomiya raised his eyebrows, lifting the drooping eyelids of age. His eyes, usually half-hidden by the lids, now fully fixed on the boy across from him. "Kōshū-kun, you understand, right? Your life is still long. And to put it bluntly, you have a lot of talent. If you follow the training plan we set for you, you might be able to make a living from baseball someday."

Before hearing the exact evaluation of 'a lot of talent' from a head coach, Kōshū had never felt such intense excitement. Even in the track and field team, they'd always practiced suppression-based coaching. He laughed like a country kid who'd never been to the city. His whole body ached with a sour feeling. He suppressed his trembling and met the old man's gaze with burning eyes.

"I understand, Coach Ninomiya."

Happy National Day, everyone~ I woke up at home today~

Spent the whole day researching writing-related stuff. Why?

Because I got a contract offer notification. My mental journey was roughly: surprise → excitement → hesitation → determination.

[Surprise] I've been writing purely for love before. I used to be on a certain green site. Came to Qidian because of a Diamond no Ace fanfic. Thought it was a deep, remote forest with no one around. Shouted "Hey," and someone in the mountains actually replied "Hello." Scared me.

[Excitement] First time seeing a live editor.

[Hesitation] Limited ability. Not sure if I can write a bug-free, smooth-flowing novel. Plus, Qidian's novels often run hundreds of thousands of words, which always leaves me in awe.

[Determination] The first thing I learned after starting work was to turn "I have to do" into "I want to do." So I broke down the complex feelings in my heart and made a simple SOP. My mood cleared up instantly, because I dismembered that monster. Dismembered, it no longer looked so tall.

1. What do I need to do to sign the contract? 2. What do I need to do to ensure daily updates and word count? 3. What do I need to do to ensure the work is complete and bug-free? 4. What do I need to do to ensure the work is exciting? 5. How to ensure effort pays off, and how to verify my gains?

After all this nonsense, what's the conclusion? I'm going to organize my outline during the National Day holiday, write up to around 50,000 words, and if I feel I can keep going by then, I'll sign the contract (since I need to print the contract at the company anyway).

Spent today creating a bunch of folders—one for baseball materials, one for various story settings. Wrote this much in a whole day...