The days following the game against Inashiro left a lasting buzz around Seidou. The coaches' quiet nods, the upperclassmen's subtle praise—it all pushed Eijun to work harder. He was still replaying every pitch, every missed opportunity, and every strike in his head. But more than anything, he couldn't shake the feeling of that home run. It had been a brutal reminder that he still had a long way to go.
Early one morning, Eijun found himself alone on the field, pitching into the silence, with nothing but his breath and the rhythmic sound of the ball smacking the backstop. His body ached, but he pushed on, determined to improve. Every pitch he threw seemed to echo with his resolve to be better.
"Trying to make up for that home run?" a voice called out, breaking the silence.
Eijun turned to see Furuya, his primary rival for the ace position, standing at the edge of the mound with his usual cool, detached expression. Furuya's eyes held a flicker of something—maybe challenge, maybe recognition—but whatever it was, Eijun wasn't going to let it faze him.
"Oh, I'm not just trying," Eijun replied, puffing up his chest. "I will make up for it. You can count on that."
Furuya nodded, taking a step onto the mound. "Good," he said simply, picking up a ball and winding up with his effortless form. He threw a pitch that whizzed into the backstop with a sound that made Eijun flinch.
"That's what you're up against," Furuya said, turning to him. "If you want to be the ace, you have to beat this."
The challenge was clear. It was one thing to improve his skills, but it was another to surpass someone as skilled and naturally talented as Furuya. Every day, Furuya seemed like an immovable wall in Eijun's way. But Eijun's spirit refused to let him back down.
"Bring it on, Furuya!" he shot back, grinning. "I'll show you that I'm not just another pitcher here."
Over the next few days, practices intensified. Coach began setting up scrimmages specifically designed to test their pitchers, often pitting Eijun and Furuya against each other indirectly, as they pitched alternate innings. It was a way to push both of them to their limits, and it showed just how much faith the team had in their potential.
Miyuki continued to guide Eijun, refining his control and pushing him to use his slider more confidently. As the catcher, Miyuki had begun setting a higher bar for Eijun, calling pitches that forced him to adapt and make snap decisions. And despite his initial struggles, Eijun felt his confidence growing with every practice.
But then came a new test. One afternoon, Coach announced a full-length practice game, with a twist: Eijun would start as the lead pitcher, and Furuya would be his relief. It was a strategic decision to give Eijun experience leading from the start, and the team's expectations weighed heavily on him.
"Remember, Sawamura," Miyuki said, adjusting his cap as he caught up to him before the game. "Today's about setting the tone. If you can control the pace, keep the pressure off the rest of the team, then you'll have already done your job."
Eijun took a deep breath and nodded. He knew he had to pitch smart, keeping his pitches sharp and his control steady. This was his chance to show he could take on the role of a lead pitcher.
The game began with Eijun taking the mound, facing off against a solid lineup. The first few batters came at him hard, swinging at anything near the strike zone. But Eijun kept his cool, relying on the strategies he'd practiced with Miyuki. His fastballs cut through the air, and his slider threw the batters off-balance.
By the end of the third inning, Eijun had held the opposing team to no runs. His control was better than ever, and each successful pitch fueled his confidence.
In the stands, Coach watched with an unreadable expression. Eijun couldn't tell if he was pleased, but he knew he'd done well. Furuya was watching, too, his arms folded as he observed Eijun's every move.
As the game progressed, the other team began to adjust, chipping away at Eijun's strategy. The batters grew more patient, forcing him to pitch deep into the count. Eijun could feel the fatigue setting in, but he pushed on, determined to keep his hold over the game.
However, by the fifth inning, a batter finally managed to get a hit, driving a fastball down the center for a single. The next batter followed suit with a base hit, and soon, Eijun found himself in a tight spot with two runners on base.
Miyuki called for a timeout, walking over to the mound with a calm expression. "Don't let the pressure get to you, Sawamura," he said. "Stay focused. You've been handling this well so far."
Eijun clenched his fists, nodding. He could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him, but he knew he couldn't afford to lose focus now.
Miyuki signaled for a slider, and Eijun nodded, winding up and releasing the ball with all the precision he could muster. The pitch broke sharply, catching the batter off guard, and he swung too early.
"Strike one!" the umpire called.
Eijun felt a surge of relief. He could do this. All he had to do was trust in his training and give his best pitch, one throw at a time.
The next two pitches followed the same pattern. Eijun maintained his control, keeping the batters at bay and preventing any runs from scoring. As he walked off the mound, he could feel the pride radiating from his teammates.
Finally, the game reached the eighth inning, and Coach called for a switch, bringing in Furuya to close. Eijun watched from the dugout, his heart pounding with a mixture of pride and frustration. He'd done well, but he wanted more—he wanted to be the pitcher who could last through the entire game, who could hold down the fort until the very end.
Furuya took the mound with his usual calm, and the difference in their pitching styles was immediately evident. Furuya's fastballs were relentless, overpowering the batters with sheer force, leaving them scrambling to keep up.
Eijun couldn't deny Furuya's skill, but he also felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew he had something Furuya didn't—the ability to adapt, to mix his pitches, to keep the batters guessing. And as he watched Furuya finish the game, he realized that their rivalry wasn't just about proving who was better. It was about pushing each other to reach new heights.
After the game, Coach gathered everyone on the field for a brief talk. His gaze lingered on Eijun and Furuya, a hint of approval in his eyes.
"Good work today," Coach said, addressing the team. "Both Sawamura and Furuya demonstrated what it takes to be a lead and a relief pitcher. But remember, there's always room to improve. We'll keep pushing forward, one game at a time."
As the team dispersed, Eijun felt Miyuki walk up beside him, a proud smirk on his face. "You did well out there, Sawamura. I can see you're starting to understand what it means to be a lead pitcher."
Eijun grinned, feeling a swell of pride. "I'll keep working at it. I'm going to be the best, Miyuki. Just wait."
Miyuki chuckled. "That's the spirit. But remember, being the best isn't just about striking out batters. It's about guiding the team, being steady when things get rough."
Eijun nodded, understanding Miyuki's words. He was learning that pitching wasn't just about his arm strength or his skills—it was about resilience, consistency, and the ability to lead.
As he walked off the field, Eijun looked up at the sky, a fierce determination in his eyes. He had a long road ahead, but he was ready for whatever challenges lay in his path. With Furuya as his rival and his team by his side, he knew he'd keep pushing forward, one step closer to his dream of becoming Seidou's ace.