Practice Match (End) and Suppression

"Coach, what's that catcher's name?" Sendou asked as he walked off the field.

"The fourth batter and catcher, Harada. Harada Masakatsu. What, you think he's a strong player?"

"I'm just a beginner, how would I know if he's strong or not. But that name sounds familiar somehow." Well, Sendou still had no idea just how strong his own team was.

When both sides were prestigious schools with roughly equal individual skill, even someone like Harada—who might have been a cut above his teammates or even the Wildcats' starters—couldn't stand out against such a cohesive Wildcats lineup. Without a point of comparison, there was no way to gauge strength.

He had no clue how strong his teammates were, because their hitting and pitching couldn't hold a candle to his. That only made it harder for him to judge, since Sendou had little self-awareness about his own level. He figured a beginner like him could be the cleanup hitter, so he didn't think much of his teammates—even if the coach called him a monster. He might even have wondered if he'd joined a fake powerhouse school.

Where was the legendary bullying of newcomers? (That was his fantasy.)

Half the blame fell on his father, Sendou Ichiro. He only knew half the story himself—just that the Wildcats were famous—so he'd sent his son there. Sendou himself didn't care either.

"Uh..." Before Coach Nakanishi could recover from his speechlessness, Sendou had already gone to put on his gear.

Over the next two innings, aside from Sendou hitting a solo home run, the score didn't change. Both sides managed a few hits, and the batting order for both teams' final innings started with the second batter. But that was only if the Sailors could tie the game—otherwise, there wouldn't be a bottom half.

In the top of the seventh, after the Sailors' third batter singled, the fourth batter hit a home run. But no more runs followed, and the final score settled at 10 to 2.

Sendou hadn't given up a single out to the opposing team. Instead, he'd racked up four long hits in four at-bats, driving in six runs.

After the teams lined up and bowed to each other, Harada Masakatsu called out to him.

"You're Sendou, right?"

"Yes, senpai!"

"You're really something, you know. Honestly, during those last two at-bats, just seeing you in the batter's box sent a chill down my spine."

In the original story, Harada hated Miyuki because he was outsmarted. But with Sendou, it was pure, overwhelming power. Even knowing Sendou's weakness—that he couldn't actually tell balls from strikes in the box—Harada still got crushed. When the gap in skill was that wide, there was no room for resentment or dislike. For now, he couldn't even muster a competitive spark. That showed just how hard he'd been hit.

"Thanks!"

Harada gave Sendou a light pat on the shoulder.

"The tournament's coming up. Do your best!"

Before Sendou could reply, Harada walked off to talk with one of the Wildcats' players. Sendou caught snatches of his senior's voice: "Pretty impressive, huh? That guy!"

And the reply: "Yeah, honestly, from the third at-bat on, just seeing him stand there gave me a shadow. It's something—fear or something else I can't put into words."

"No kidding? But it's true—when he steps into the box, it's terrifying. Squatting behind the plate and facing him in a decisive showdown? That's a nightmare, right?!"

"Yeah!"

Sendou shrugged.

"Well, none of that matters anymore," he murmured to himself.

After the Wildcats' bus returned to camp, they disbanded on the spot.

"I'm home!"

"Welcome back! Akila, your father's home. Go wash up—he wants to talk to you."

"Got it!"

After a quick wash, Sendou came to the living room and knelt down.

"Akila, you know our family runs a business. I've decided to expand into China, so I'll be going there with your mother. But I want you to stay here in Japan. I want you to have a full, colorful childhood. You're a bit quiet by nature, so I don't think living abroad would suit you. I'll send you to your grandfather's place in the countryside."

"Okay. When do I leave?" No argument. He chose to comply.

"I'll handle the paperwork tomorrow. Go say goodbye to your classmates and the Wildcats' coach."

"Also, I'll give you some money. There might be things you can't buy out in the countryside, so you can get them before you go. It's fine if you're a day or two late starting school."

"I understand. I'll head to my room now." Sendou took a deep breath and said quietly.

Even though Sendou hadn't made any real friends on the Wildcats, he'd spent every day with Coach Nakanishi. Leaving suddenly still stung.

"Let him have some time alone." Sendou Ichiro held back his wife, who wanted to say something.

In his room, Sendou fiddled aimlessly with his phone, opening and closing apps over and over. If he had to put a name to it, it was confusion.

After a long while, he stood up and walked to the full-length mirror in his room. Staring back at him was a face that looked a bit like that cheerful, handsome guy from Slam Dunk. The difference was in the eyes—Sendou had phoenix eyes with sapphire-like pupils, but they carried a sharpness that made people want to look away.

"Really... ah. What a face. Should I get a spiky haircut like Sendou's? I wonder if that Sendou has naturally stiff hair like me—when it's a little short, it stands up like a hedgehog's."

"I've decided. Tomorrow, I'm getting a haircut. With my hair texture, a little gel and it'll stand right up." (Actually, from some angles in Slam Dunk, Sendou's hair wasn't that long—the longest parts were maybe two or three inches, and the shortest was about the same as a crew cut.)

"Starting tomorrow, I'm a brand-new me. The long-lost Going-Home Club, hooray!" He shouted the cheer half-heartedly.

Even Sendou knew he was just fooling himself, distracting himself from the real feeling. But he didn't want to let himself off easy. He wanted to stay busy, to bury the pain of parting.

So he started packing. Then he cleaned his room, sorting things into what he'd take and what he'd leave behind. When he saw the family photo, he stared at it for a long time, then finally put it in his bag.

Next came the basic training manuals and practice schedules Coach Nakanishi had given him.

With Sendou's mind, he'd already memorized the practice menus inside and out. As for the baseball materials, Coach Nakanishi's notes, and the theory books...

"Since I'm choosing the Going-Home Club, I'll leave these here." He put everything into the closet—all the things he wouldn't take.

When he closed the closet door, Sendou felt like he was saying goodbye to the person he'd been before today.

At that thought, all the oppressive atmosphere seemed to lift.

That was just the kind of person Sendou was—even in his past life. He could accept reality quickly, no matter what.

He only did what he could. He knew what he had to do, what he was capable of, what he could only trust in, and what he could only wait for.

The latter half of today was a bit heavy—I think that's fair to say. Maybe tomorrow's farewells will be too. I wonder if I can capture that atmosphere. The last line reminds me of a similar one in Cross Game. Suddenly I want to watch Cross Game again. Mitsuru Adachi's baseball details aren't the best, but his emotional writing is top-notch. I'd skip Wakaba's death scene, though—I can't take that heartbreak.