Chapter 6: Testing Limits

Eijun's heartbeat pounded in his ears as he stood on the mound, the familiar dirt under his cleats feeling like sacred ground. Today was another scrimmage day, but this time, the stakes felt even higher. Coach had gathered a few alumni to join the team, testing the players with a higher level of competition. The stands were filled with scouts and even some upperclassmen who had come to watch the intense match.

He could sense that Miyuki and Coach had something to prove, and he wanted to be part of that proof. More than anything, he wanted to show everyone, especially himself, that he was more than just a backup or a "wild card." He was capable of greatness.

Furuya was in the bullpen, warming up with his usual stoic focus, his fastballs slicing through the air. Eijun couldn't help but sneak glances at his rival, feeling the undeniable urge to surpass him, to reach a level that would make him an indisputable ace.

"Eyes on the game, Sawamura," Miyuki's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, sharp and direct.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm focused!" Eijun shot back, gritting his teeth as he turned his attention to the batter waiting at the plate.

"Show me, then," Miyuki challenged with a smirk, his gloved hand positioned to signal the first pitch.

Miyuki called for a fastball, and Eijun let the tension roll off his shoulders, sinking into his pitching stance. His arm snapped forward, releasing the ball with fierce precision. The batter swung too late, and the ball flew cleanly into Miyuki's glove.

"Strike one!" the umpire called.

Eijun felt his confidence swell. He was in his element, his pitches sharp and controlled, honed by weeks of intense practice and Miyuki's endless critiques. He prepared for the next pitch, adjusting his stance. Miyuki signaled for a curveball, and Eijun nodded, winding up and sending the ball into a spinning arc.

The batter swung and missed again, the pitch landing squarely in Miyuki's mitt. "Strike two!" The stands erupted in cheers, and Eijun felt a surge of pride. His pitches were on target, his control crisp and sure.

But just as he was finding his rhythm, he caught sight of Coach's face, his expression critical. There was no room for error today. He was pushing Eijun to his limits, demanding consistency and focus. The pressure was unlike anything he'd felt before, even in his past life.

"Take it one pitch at a time, Sawamura," Miyuki reminded him as he crouched behind the plate. "Don't get caught up in the hype."

Eijun nodded, taking a steadying breath. The next pitch sailed smoothly into Miyuki's mitt, securing the strikeout. The batter walked off with a scowl, and Eijun couldn't help but grin. He'd nailed it.

The innings passed in a blur, with Eijun pitching his heart out, striking out batter after batter. But his arms began to ache as the game wore on, a dull, throbbing pain building in his shoulder. He knew he was nearing his limit, but he refused to back down.

In the seventh inning, Furuya was called in to relieve him. As Eijun stepped off the mound, Furuya passed by him, his usual calm gaze fixed ahead. Eijun gave him a nod, silently wishing him luck.

"Watch carefully," Miyuki murmured as Eijun took a seat on the bench. "You'll learn something from how Furuya handles this."

Furuya was relentless, his pitches blazing fast, catching the batters off guard. Watching him, Eijun couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Furuya's raw power and precision were awe-inspiring. But as he watched, he also began to notice a slight flaw in Furuya's technique—a tiny hitch in his delivery, a hesitation just before the release.

Miyuki leaned closer, catching Eijun's attention. "See that? Furuya relies too much on his power. If the batters catch on, they'll start timing his pitches."

Eijun nodded, studying every detail. Miyuki was right. Furuya's strength was undeniable, but his approach was predictable. If he could learn from that, if he could balance power and strategy, maybe he'd find his own edge.

As the game ended, Eijun approached Furuya, who was uncharacteristically sitting on the bench, staring at his glove in deep thought. He looked up as Eijun neared, a hint of surprise crossing his face.

"Nice work out there," Eijun said, feeling the weight of their rivalry simmering between them.

Furuya's gaze sharpened. "You too. But don't think this changes anything. I'm going to be the ace."

Eijun's grin widened. "Good. Then I'll just have to work harder."

That evening, back in the dorms, Eijun found himself reviewing Miyuki's advice. He knew he needed to focus on his own strengths instead of getting caught up in competing with Furuya. He had speed and endurance, and with Miyuki's guidance, he was finally gaining control. But if he wanted to stand out, he needed something unique, something that would make him irreplaceable on the mound.

"Focus, Sawamura," he muttered to himself, gripping an imaginary ball as he visualized his pitches. He spent hours going over each pitch in his head, determined to find the perfect balance of control and power.

By the time he fell asleep, his mind was racing with ideas. He was close—he could feel it.

The next day at practice, Eijun found Miyuki waiting for him with a new challenge.

"Today, we're going to work on your slider," Miyuki said, tossing him a ball. "You've got the power, but now you need a pitch that's harder to predict. A good slider will make you unpredictable."

Eijun's eyes lit up. "A slider, huh? Bring it on!"

Miyuki grinned, crouching behind the plate. "Let's see what you've got."

Eijun took his stance, adjusting his grip as Miyuki had instructed. The slider was trickier than he'd expected—the grip felt unnatural at first, and his throws veered off-target. But with each pitch, he felt himself getting closer, understanding the mechanics and timing.

The hours ticked by, and Eijun's arm began to ache, but he refused to give up. With Miyuki's guidance, he kept at it, determined to master the pitch. Finally, after countless attempts, he threw a perfect slider, the ball cutting sharply and landing in Miyuki's mitt with precision.

Miyuki's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Not bad, Sawamura. That's what we'll be focusing on in the weeks ahead. If you can nail this, you'll be a threat on the mound."

Eijun's chest swelled with pride, a sense of accomplishment flooding through him. He'd found his edge—a pitch that would set him apart. As he walked off the field that day, he felt a renewed sense of purpose.

The next time Eijun pitched in a scrimmage, he unveiled his slider, catching the batters off guard. With each successful pitch, his confidence grew, and he could see Coach and Miyuki watching him with approval. He was closer than ever to his goal.

But he also knew he couldn't let his guard down. Furuya was improving, too, and the competition between them was as fierce as ever. Yet, for the first time since coming to Seidou, Eijun felt like he belonged. He wasn't just another player; he was Sawamura Eijun, the pitcher who would fight with everything he had to become the ace.

As he looked around at his teammates, he knew they were relying on him just as much as he relied on them. And that was all the motivation he needed to keep pushing forward, one pitch at a time.