Chapter 57 Swing That Shit

In the following day, a sharp sound of the baseball smacking into Minato's mitt echoed through the bullpen. Kazuya's pitches had some serious heat behind it today. His delivery was smooth, and with every pitch, it felt like he was throwing with more confidence. Minato, the first-year catcher, barely flinched as he caught another heater.

"Nice pitching, Senpai!" Minato said, returning the ball to Kazuya with a smile.

Kazuya gave a small nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He could feel the pressure mounting—Coach Nakamura had told him he would be pitching the entire game against Shukugawa, but it wasn't just about showing up. He had to dominate.

Yamato stood nearby, watching the bullpen session intently. Nice pitching indeed, his form is also sharp, We'll need him like this if we want to survive against Shukugawa.

Nearby, Kai and Kohei were also working on their pitches with Daiki, the second-year catcher. Both of them knew that even though Kazuya was set to start, they needed to be ready to step in at any moment. Shukugawa's lineup was brutal, and they couldn't afford any mistakes.

Coach Nakamura called out to them, "Remember, you're all in this together. Kazuya will start, but if anything happens, you need to be ready to go. Also Kai relaxe your shoulders you're tense."

Kai gave a determined nod, his grip tightening on the ball as he adjusted his stance. Kohei, always the more laid-back of the two, nodded in understanding.

On the other side of the field, Kenji was hitting grounders to the outfielders during a fielding drill. The team was covered in sweat, but that didn't stop the intensity. Shinjiro, positioned in the outfield, sprinted for a hard-hit ball, sliding into the dirt as he snagged it just before it could bounce past him.

Kenji watched, a grin stretching across his face. "That's the stuff, rookie!" he shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Keep that up!"

Haruto, stationed at the infield was also hitting balls for the infielders. Koji then said, "Senpai, you're going too easy on me!" he called out. "Hit me some real ones!"

Harto overheard Koji's complaint and sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine!" He smacked a ball towards another player, where Kaito, their shortstop, dove for the ball with incredible precision, snatching it cleanly mid-air.

Koji groaned. "Tsk always showing off...." He rubbed his glove, already preparing for the next hit.

Haruto chuckled as he aimed for the next baseman, the infielders moving quickly in response to his consistent grounders.

As practice wrapped up and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Kenji and Shinjiro walked side by side toward the locker rooms. Their shirts clung to their backs from sweat, their muscles aching from the hard work they'd put in.

Just as they neared the locker room entrance, they overheard a conversation between two boys from Team B. One of them, a lanky fist-year Taro Mori, leaned against the wall, whispering with his friend, Kawaki Ito. "That's right! i heard his dad and grandfather were pros," the boy said, his voice low but still audible. "He just popped outta nowhere, and didn't even take that long in reserves, just straight into the first team..."

"Yeah," the other boy agreed, nodding. "I'm always telling you, you need connections in life. We're definitely better than him—he's just lucky."

Kenji's steps slowed, and his usual light-hearted demeanor disappeared. His eyes darkened as he stopped in his tracks, glaring at the two boys from behind. "Well, what do we have here?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with tension.

The two boys froze, their faces paling as they realized who was standing behind them. They quickly turned around, stammering nervously. "C-Captain, we didn't mean anything by it!" one of them stuttered, trying to laugh it off.

Shinjiro remained silent, but Kenji's glare burned with intensity. "Do you honestly believe that crap you're saying?" he asked, stepping closer. The boys backed up instinctively, eyes wide.

Kenji didn't wait for an answer. He grabbed the arm of one of the boys, startling them both. "Just look at your hands," he said, holding their arms up. "Smooth, right? You don't even swing the bat."

He turned to Shinjiro and raised his arm, showing the fresh calluses and blisters that had formed from countless hours of practice. "Now, look at his. You think this is luck? These aren't from some family connections. These are from hard work. You guys swing for yourselves, not for the team."

One of the boys swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. "We... we used to swing more, but... since we're not getting picked, we stopped..." He trailed off, his words stumbling over themselves.

Kenji's gaze softened slightly, but there was still a fire in his eyes. "So you don't swing for the team, then." he said quietly.

Shinjiro watched silently as Kenji spoke, his own thoughts swirling. Do I swing for myself... or for the team?

Kenji's fist bumped lightly into one of the boy's chests, not aggressively, but firm enough to make a point. "If there's still any fire left in you, swing that bat for yourselves. Do it because you love the game—not just because you're looking for a spot on the team."

The two boys stood there, stunned, as Kenji's words sunk in. They nodded, reflecting deeply on what their captain had said.

Shinjiro glanced at Kenji as they walked into the locker room. He admired how Kenji handled things—not just as a leader, but as someone who cared deeply about the game and his teammates. It made him think about his own role, not just as a player.