<117> Vengeful Ozawa

Chapter 117: Vengeful Ozawa

Day 2 of Training Camp

5:30 a.m.

"Ding…"

"Wake up!!!"

Sawamura's booming voice echoed through every room early in the morning.

Thanks to Sendo's full-body massage yesterday, Sawamura was full of energy today.

However, everyone else had already woken up around the same time. They responded cooperatively, though there was one person who clearly wasn't getting up anytime soon!

"Damn it! That jerk Sendo is the only one left in bed! He just joined the team, for crying out loud!"

"Well, forget it. Let Sen-chan sleep!"

"Y... fine, just this once. Let's head out!" Sawamura initially wanted to protest, but memories of last night's unfortunate "incident" made him back down.

With Sendo around, Wakana volunteered to prepare breakfast, as Fumino's cooking skills were… questionable.

Sendo slept soundly for a long time. By the time Sawamura and the others finished breakfast and began training, he still hadn't gotten up!

...

"Good morning!"

"Good? It's already 8 a.m.!" Fumino replied irritably.

"As long as the clock shows a single digit, it's still morning!" Sendo retorted nonchalantly.

"Ugh, whatever! There's some food left in the kitchen. Help yourself!"

"Got it!"

...

"Yo, good morning, Wakana!"

"Oh, you're up? Here!" Wakana handed over a still-hot, oversized meal.

"Thanks! How's everyone doing with training?"

"Overall, very energetic!"

"Is that so?"

"Yep! Especially Eijun. He seems particularly fired up today! Looks like your massage last night worked wonders!"

"Of course! My skills can revive anyone, even if they're completely drained!" Sendo bragged while taking a bite of bread.

"Pfft! You're so full of yourself!"

"Don't believe me?"

"Alright, alright! Hurry up and eat. Then, you need to check on everyone's training, right? Lately, their morale has been recovering, but their technical skills seem to be slipping."

"True. Eijun's sense of responsibility is too strong. Those guys all want to help out, but the harder they try, the stiffer their movements become."

"Is that okay?"

"For a pitcher, it would be hard to adjust, but for the others, they'll just need to train more and get used to it again. Anyway, I'll head out now!"

...

By the time Sendo finally strolled to the training grounds after eating his fill, it was already 8:30 a.m. Everyone was in the middle of batting practice.

"Not good! Kondou, you need to swing faster!"

Sendo began hands-on coaching. He knew that whether they could make it to Nationals next year depended heavily on the team's batting.

The second day's training followed a similar structure to the first but with significantly increased intensity. Every break saw the players sprawled on the ground from exhaustion.

No matter what, this summer marked their final large-scale training camp.

It was truly the last stretch, and everyone pushed themselves to the limit—especially after hearing rumors that Akagi might be shut down and merged with another school.

Sawamura's efforts were even more fervent; he wanted the school's name to echo across the nation.

...

That evening, Sendo received a call from Coach Nakani.

"How did it go? All set?"

"No problem. They're very willing. It's a great opportunity for her as well. This little bit of effort is nothing! You can come over tomorrow. Oh, by the way, Mitani told me their ace can't wait to swallow you whole! What did you do to her? You're a minor, aren't you? Isn't this illegal?" Coach Nakani's words took a sudden inappropriate turn.

"Hey, old man! You're well aware I'm a minor. Isn't it inappropriate to say such pervy things?" Sendo sighed, utterly speechless.

"Haha! Don't hold back! Show them Sendo Akira's greatness!"

"Got it. Goodbye!" Sendo decisively hung up, cutting off any further teasing from the coach.

Afterward, he called Coach Mitani to confirm the time.

...

The Next Day

"This school is huge! Even during vacation, coming alone to an all-girls school feels a bit awkward," Sendo muttered as he stood at the gate of Sakura Girl's University.

"Yo! Long time no see, Sendo-kun!" A familiar voice called out.

"You are...? Oh, Matsuyama-san! It's been a while!"

"Coach asked me to take you to the field."

"Thanks!"

"No problem! Next year's our final year too, so we're counting on you!"

"Actually, I should be thanking you. You're graduating soon, right?"

"Yep. Time to step down."

Chatting along the way, they reached Sakura Girl's University's field.

"Long time no see, Sendo-kun! How are you? Need a break?"

"No need!"

"Alright then, Matsuyama, take him to get changed."

Ten minutes later, Sendo appeared on the field wearing Sakura Girl's University's team uniform.

"Coach Nakani said you must use a wooden bat for your duel with Ozawa. You know it's much harder to handle."

"Over there is our team's collection of bats. Find one that feels right. Once you're warmed up, we'll start!"

"Does Ozawa-san not need to join training?"

"Nope. She just focuses on pitching. She'll train for other things during breaks."

"That sounds tough." Sendo headed off to prepare on his own.

...

Throughout the entire process, Ozawa maintained an unusual composure, refraining from her usual teasing.

She stayed quiet, focusing on calming herself and adjusting her condition.

"She's got the aura of a champion now. That woman..." Sendo murmured to himself, swinging the bat to get used to its feel.

Using a wooden bat felt a bit unfamiliar, though the grip was more comfortable compared to a metal one.

"One at-bat, then a three-minute break. After three at-bats, a 15-minute break. Let's start with that and adjust as needed. How does that sound?" Coach Mitani proposed after seeing Sendo finish his warm-up.

"No problem!" Sendo and Ozawa replied in unison.

"Matsuyama, watch my signals from the side. Alright, let's begin!"

With that, Coach Mitani crouched into catching position.

Indeed, the coach himself would serve as the catcher. Coach Nakani's proposal was a brilliant one—it would train both Sendo and Ozawa while giving Matsuyama a chance to learn about pitch-calling.

Sendo stepped into the batter's box, tidied the dirt, and assumed his stance, ready to face the ball.

"Throw an outside fastball, but make it obviously a ball!" Coach Mitani signaled.

With the coach himself giving the call, Ozawa dared not disagree and immediately prepared to pitch.

Lift the arm, raise the leg, step forward, swing the arm!

Pop!

The pitch was so clearly out of the strike zone that even Sendo, who usually swung at anything, didn't go for it.

After a year apart, their duel had resumed.

With just one pitch, Sendo immediately noticed Ozawa's progress—not in the break of her sinker, but in her lower body stability.

However, a single pitch wasn't enough to gauge the full extent of her improvement.

"Next pitch: a sinker aimed at the same spot as before. If he swings, we win!"

Ozawa lifted her leg, stepped forward, and swung her arm.

Sendo shifted his weight abruptly and swung.

Whoosh!

Pop!

A whiff.

"Incredible! First, an obvious ball to give the batter some false sense of spacing, then a sinker breaking just outside the strike zone. It's practically unhittable!"

"Sendo's weakness is that he struggles to distinguish between balls and strikes, and the trajectory of this pitch guaranteed he'd swing. Ozawa's mastery of her sinker's break made even this monster miss!" Matsuyama thought, amazed at the coach's pitch selection, feeling as if a new world had opened before her.

But Sendo saw more than Matsuyama did.

"Identical. This is trouble," Sendo muttered.

Ozawa's motion was nearly identical for both pitches—so much so that even Sendo's dynamic vision couldn't detect any difference.

It was as if the same photo had been replayed twice, showcasing the incredible stability of her form.

However, Sendo's lack of recent live-game experience and his naturally scattered focus put him at a disadvantage, turning this first at-bat into a real uphill battle.

The coach signaled for the third pitch.

Whoosh!

Ping!

Sendo swung at another ball outside the strike zone, managing only to foul it off.

"Two strikes already! That was fast!"

As the only spectator, Matsuyama felt she was witnessing a rare spectacle—one of the top female pitchers, a national-level coach, and a monstrous batter all going head-to-head.

"Tch," Sendo clicked his tongue in frustration.

"He probably won't swing at this. Go for an inside slider, just missing the strike zone. It'll be hard for him to keep up!"

Meanwhile, Sendo gripped the bat in one hand and tilted his body, aligning himself with Ozawa in the batter's box.

"The atmosphere's shifted. Looks like he's finally focusing," Coach Mitani observed. From the moment Sendo stepped up, his scattered focus was obvious, and the coach had aimed to take advantage of it.

Now, with Sendo concentrating about 70%—his usual peak—the pressure on Coach Mitani was palpable.

"Looks like it's going to be a head-to-head battle now."

Ozawa noticed her coach's firm glove placement and nodded.

"That kid's physical development lets him evolve so quickly. I can only hope to beat him while I still have the chance!" she thought, preparing her pitch.

"So, let's see you miss this one!"

"Inside pitch?" Sendo's body reacted instinctively, his wild nature taking over.

Ping!

Thud!

The ball slammed into the net behind the cage.

"No way! He managed to hit that?" Ozawa exclaimed in disbelief.

"Barely nicked it," Sendo muttered as if reading her mind.

"What an incredible opponent! Like a wild animal, he managed to keep up. Beating him won't be easy," Mitani thought. "Still, a fastball over the plate is too risky—even with a wooden bat, he could send it flying. We need something precise."

"Go for an outside fastball, make it sharp! Even if it strays slightly, he'll swing," Mitani instructed.

"Such a crafty old man. And with Ozawa's extensive arsenal, I'll have to adapt on the fly," Sendo thought, glancing sideways at Mitani.

Still, guessing the pitch would ruin the fun of this rare opportunity.

Sendo trusted his reaction time, relaxing his body yet staying alert.

"What a terrifying opponent," Mitani noted.

Whoosh!

"I'm not losing this easily!" Ozawa's fastball hurtled toward home plate.

"Outside pitch. I can hit this!"

Whoosh!

Pop!

The ball nicked the bat and landed in the catcher's mitt—strike three.

"Yes!" Ozawa shouted in excitement, unable to hide her joy.

After countless at-bats last year where Sendo crushed her pitches, she had trained relentlessly for this moment—to finally get one over on the monster batter who never seemed to practice.

"Tch," Sendo muttered, slightly annoyed.

He shouldn't have struck out on that pitch, but with the unfamiliar wooden bat, it was inevitable.

"Alright, three-minute break!" Coach Mitani called.

"Coach, can we go another round right away?" Ozawa asked eagerly.

"The day's long, and the later rounds will be even tougher. Take a proper break," Mitani replied, shaking his head.

Before Ozawa could protest, Sendo walked out of the batter's box and sat down on the ground, looking completely unfazed, as if the strikeout hadn't happened.

"This won't be easy today. Ozawa's determination is through the roof," Sendo thought.

For now, his main challenge was adjusting to the wooden bat.

The solution? More swings.

More importantly, Ozawa had grown to the point where she could pitch different types of balls with the same delivery—an ability that made her exceptional, even among male pitchers. Beating her wouldn't be as easy as it was last year.

...

The three-minute break flew by, and the duel resumed.

"First pitch, here!"

"Got it!"

Buoyed by her earlier strikeout, Ozawa was now pitching above her usual level.

"This speed… it's a breaking ball!"

Thud!

Mitani frowned, glancing up at Sendo.

The batter wore a mischievous expression—he had forcibly held back his swing at the last second.

"Ball!" Mitani called, while silently calculating his next move.

"Figured it out! Ozawa's throwing forkballs now? That's just ridiculous! Do they think I'm an idiot?" Sendo silently grumbled.

"Here!"

Ping!

The slightly inside pitch was fouled off again, hitting the net behind home plate.

"Looks like he held back a bit this time," Mitani thought, slightly adjusting his strategy.