Coach Kataoka's fury was like a volcano about to erupt, silencing everyone on the field.
Under normal circumstances it wouldn't have been a big deal. Without outsiders present, Coach Kataoka might have issued a simple reprimand and left it at that.
But today, his players had blatantly embarrassed him in front of Ochiai. How dare anyone be late on a day like this?
"You dare to be late on the very first day? You've got guts. Go run laps until morning practice ends."
Coach Kataoka's tone was cold enough to freeze.
Sawamura, facing him, knew he had made a grave mistake. He dropped his head and went to run laps.
Kataoka then turned a cold stare on a few individuals in the second and third-year group. "The two sharing a room with that idiot, and the fool who tried to sneak back into formation. You're all going too."
Did he think they thought he was blind?
Masuko and Kuramochi had been listless all morning. Kuramochi even had dark circles under his eyes. If those two hadn't been up to something the night before, how would a newcomer on his very first day end up late?
And Miyuki was something else entirely. Being late was bad enough, but trying to sneak back into the lineup on top of it?
Coach Kataoka's response sent a ripple through the whole team.
For some reason, everyone instinctively felt this wasn't going to end simply.
Kuramochi and Masuko fell in reluctantly, and Miyuki joined them. The four of them ran laps together, bickering the whole way. It was by listening to their back-and-forth that Zhang Han finally pieced together why Sawamura had tried to sneak into formation in the first place.
It had all been Miyuki's doing.
He had been late alongside Sawamura, then talked Sawamura into sneaking back in. The moment all eyes were on Sawamura, Miyuki used the distraction to slip back into the group himself. He had even been the one to call Sawamura out.
Zhang Han felt a chill. He had assumed that people like Kuramochi and Miyuki would be decent to their future juniors. He was wrong.
These two were ruthless when it came to throwing juniors under the bus. Zhang Han couldn't even bring himself to admire the method.
Too calculated. Too shameless.
He quietly resolved to keep his distance from both of them going forward.
The four of them ran until morning practice ended, then joined the rest of the group for breakfast.
The Seido High School Baseball Team's mealtime rule was the same as always: three large bowls of rice per person. For the second and third-year players, this had long since become routine. The training that followed would burn through every bit of it.
For the freshmen, three large bowls in one sitting was something else entirely.
Not everyone has a naturally large appetite. Many of the newcomers were already struggling after one bowl and couldn't manage a second. A third was out of the question.
Watching the juniors suffer through their meals was a quiet pleasure for the upperclassmen. Having been through it themselves, they watched with particular relish.
"Don't leave a single grain. Three big bowls each."
Isashiki Jun stood up and moved through the freshmen like an inspector. Under his fierce gaze, eating became even harder.
There were exceptions, of course.
Sawamura, who had been running all morning, was clearly starving. It was a struggle, but he didn't leave a single grain across all three bowls.
To eat that much on the first day. This kid was tough.
Or just a glutton.
After the meal, they rested for half an hour, then resumed training.
The freshmen went with Manager Ota for their entry tests. This was one of the few opportunities they would have to show what they could do.
For a powerhouse like the Seido High School Baseball Team, freshmen generally spent their first semester on basic training. Unless someone was exceptionally talented, they simply wouldn't get a chance. The school had no intention of using the newcomers as a fighting force this early, so the opportunities given to them were naturally limited.
Limited, but not nonexistent.
The freshman entry test was one of those rare openings.
Sawamura knew it. He was eager to follow Manager Ota and take the test.
Coach Kataoka stopped him.
Kataoka was still fuming. This freshman had shown him no respect at all. Being late was one thing. But after accepting the punishment, the boy hadn't even thought to apologize.
Nearby, Ochiai was barely keeping a straight face.
"You don't need to go for the test. If you have time, go for a run instead. You can refuse, of course, but if you do, don't bother coming to practice from tomorrow onwards. Ever."
Coach Kataoka stripped Sawamura of his chance on the spot.
In other words, barring something extraordinary, Sawamura would have no path to the First-string this year.
Sawamura was having none of it. He immediately started arguing.
Zhang Han watched from the side, at a loss.
When Sawamura had come to visit before, Zhang Han had already sensed the kid was blunt. But blunt and thoughtless were two different things. Not only had he skipped the apology, he was now arguing directly with the Director. This was Kataoka. A narrow-minded man in the same position would have ended Sawamura's career in the club before it began.
Kataoka looked at the angry boy in front of him and found he wasn't as irritated as one might expect. He saw something of his younger self in this kid.
"If you're a pitcher, then let the ball in your hand prove it."
Kataoka issued a challenge. A one-on-one bet: if Sawamura could throw the ball to the back net of the field, Kataoka would give him a chance as a pitcher. If he couldn't, Sawamura would give up on pitching.
How could Sawamura refuse a provocation like that? He agreed immediately.
He threw the ball past sixty meters, then eighty-five, nearly reaching ninety.
Just as it was about to reach the net, it dropped short.
The onlookers were baffled.
Why had he thrown a curveball on a distance throw? A straight ball was the obvious choice. Was he out of his mind?
And just like that, Sawamura Eijun lost his qualification as a pitcher on his first day in the club.
It went further than that. Coach Kataoka didn't even acknowledge him as a proper member. Sawamura was almost certainly the only probationary member the Seido High School Baseball Club had seen in years.
Every freshman who enters the club finds their own path. There is the steady growth type, the dominant prodigy type, the highly anticipated type, the dark horse.
Sawamura belonged to a far rarer category: the hellish start.