Sunday, Yakushi High School baseball field.
Although Yakushi High was a small, little-known school in West Tokyo, loyal alumni often visited to watch the team practice and support their alma mater. Today was no exception. Around seventy or eighty supporters had gathered in small groups around the field, quietly observing the game.
"You've been training with the baseball team for about a month now," Todoroki Raizo announced, addressing the players lined up in three neat rows. "To test your progress, we'll hold an intra-squad scrimmage today. I've divided everyone from first to third year into two balanced teams. Here are the rosters."
"Team A: Pitchers Mino Hayato and Sanada Shunpei; catcher Watanabe Tatsuya; first baseman Mishima Yuta; second baseman Fukuda Daiki; third baseman Todoroki Raichi; shortstop Kobayashi Keisuke; left field Akiba Kazuma; center field Ota Isao; right field Yamauchi Yutaka."
"Team B: Pitcher Kitamura Kou; catcher Akaishi Osamu; first baseman Maruyama Shinji; second baseman Masuda Sadafumi; third baseman Nakanishi Daiki; shortstop Yonehara Yu; left field Moriyama Makoto; center field Abe Hideo; right field Taira Akiraryo."
"Yes!!!" the players shouted in unison.
Team A would bat first.
Kitamura Kou walked to the mound, a mix of excitement and focus surging through him. Facing the first formal game since his rebirth, he couldn't help but feel the thrill. The opposing lineup wasn't weak, either—he had to apply pressure immediately.
Team B's defenders took their positions on the field, each moving with purpose.
"Kitamura-san, good luck!" teammates off the field shouted encouragement.
Standing on the slightly raised mound, Kitamura leveled the ground with his right foot. He took a deep breath, tossed the rosin bag aside, and focused.
Fukuda Daiki stepped into the batter's box, eyes sharp. Akaishi Osamu crouched behind the plate, glove ready. Kou, make them feel our presence first, Akaishi thought.
Kitamura raised both hands above his head, lifted his left leg high, and stepped forward. His glove formed a shield, his body coiled like a spring. The right hand swung forward with the force of a drawn bowstring, releasing the baseball with explosive precision.
The ball shot forward like an arrow.
"Boom!"
Fukuda froze in the batter's box, intimidated by the sheer force and presence of the pitch.
"Thud!"
The ball landed squarely in Akaishi's glove with a deafening smack that echoed across the field.
"Strike!" Todoroki Raizo, acting as umpire, called. Fukuda stood stunned, his confidence shaken.
Kitamura pressed the cap on his head with a grin.
"Strike two!"
"Strike three!"
"Batter out!"
Fukuda had swung with all his might, but not a trace of the ball was touched. Yet his tenacious effort inspired those behind him.
The second batter, Yamauchi Yutaka, stepped in. Formerly Yakushi's core hitter, he was a force to be reckoned with.
"Start with a low outside ball test his control," Akaishi signaled.
Kitamura complied, deliberately suppressing his speed while still delivering a precise pitch.
Whoosh! Pop!
"Strike!"
Yamauchi studied him carefully, adjusting his grip and stance to collect data. Akaishi shifted slightly, signaling for a high inside pitch near the batter's chest. Kitamura nodded and released the ball.
Whoosh! Pop!
The four-seam fastball—simple but deadly—cut across the strike zone. Yamauchi recoiled, barely brushing the edge of the plate, and the ball snapped into Akaishi's glove.
"Two strikes!"
Cornered, Yamauchi tightened his grip, leaning in toward the plate. But a low inside pitch caught him off-guard, and he swung too late. Strikeout.
"Not bad, Kitamura!" Akaishi muttered, impressed.
Now it was Mishima Yuta's turn—the former junior high cleanup hitter, full of confidence and swagger.
"Kitamura! I'll crush you!" Mishima shouted, glaring from the batter's box.
"Quite arrogant," Akaishi remarked, placing his glove on the outer edge. "Let's see what you've got."
Kitamura clenched his jaw, eager to teach the self-proclaimed 'great Mishima' a lesson. He threw the pitch with perfect form.
Mishima swung with all his strength. The ball connected, but Kitamura's pitch was heavy and controlled. The ball fell short, landing just in front of the mound.
Quick as a flash, Kitamura scooped it up and fired a perfect throw to first base.
"OUT! Three outs, switch sides."
The first inning ended in a display of precision pitching and defensive synergy, leaving Team A stunned and Team B energized.