Upon returning to the school, Coach Kataoka briefly spoke in front of the bus before dismissing everyone.
Back in the dorm, Kanzaki Ryou immediately lay on his bed scrolling through his phone after showering. Just then, a message popped up.
"Onii~ Congratulations on winning the game, the golden home run was super cool!"
Kanzaki Ryou smiled. This girl was becoming more clingy as she grew older.
"Study hard!"
Just four words—
a fatal blow to Kanzaki Kumiko, who was far away at Kitauji High School.
Hmph!
At Kitauji High School, Kumiko angrily tossed her phone into her drawer. Bad brother, stinky brother!
It had been in the drawer for less than three seconds before she pouted and took it out again. Another message popped up.
She blinked.
It was from Ni-chan.
Opening it quickly, she covered her mouth in shock.
A transfer of 50,000 yen!
"Onii, why are you giving me so much money?"
"Koshien finals. Remember to buy tickets and come watch."
Just as Kumiko sent her question, Kanzaki remembered something—
Her birthday was August 21st.
The Koshien finals were also August 21st.
Perfect.
One more reason to win the championship.
"Hehe, Ni-chan, our whole family will go watch the finals. Dad will definitely pay for it."
She didn't doubt his chances at all. Instead, she was thinking about their dad's wallet.
"Then keep it as pocket money and buy more pretty dresses."
"Bad brother, you just want to see it yourself, don't you!"
Too easy to guess.
"I want to see it."
"You big bully, I'm not talking to you anymore!"
After sending that message, Kumiko lay on her desk, burying her face in her arms.
"Ni-chan~"
She missed her brother.
The next day, since Coach Kataoka had reviewed yesterday's game, those who performed well naturally received praise.
Kuramochi, proud as ever, was overflowing with energy—yelling like a ghost even during simple morning runs.
"This bastard is so noisy!"
"Whoever sews his mouth shut, I'll treat them to ice cream!"
"How about we dig a hole and sell him?"
"Hmm, the back mountain has good feng shui."
While the seniors talked, Kanzaki Ryou suddenly appeared with a shovel, raised it high, and charged at Kuramochi.
"You beast! SHUT UP!"
Everyone burst into laughter as the run finished.
Because there was a game tomorrow, the first string mainly worked on maintaining their condition. Meanwhile, the second string and first-years were sweating on B Field.
Kanzaki, holding a bat, found Yuki Tetsuya sitting on the grass.
"Kanzaki, come sit."
Yuki's deep voice had its own charm.
Kanzaki sat down.
"Senior, can you teach me your visualization training?"
Yuki smiled, genuinely delighted.
"Good foresight."
Kanzaki leaned back slightly, surprised.
He didn't expect this stern-looking future captain to be so… narcissistic.
"Cough… please teach me, Senior."
Kanzaki had tried visualization training before—imagining game scenes, batting, adjusting his breathing—but he could never stay immersed like Yuki, who stood perfectly still for 30 minutes to an hour.
Yuki asked, "Tell me your problems. I've watched you try before."
Kanzaki explained.
Yuki listened, brow gradually tightening.
"Your issue is your mentality. You're too impatient."
"Impatient?"
"Yes. It might relate to your age… and your pitching."
"Pitching?" Kanzaki blinked.
Yuki continued,
"Your pitching is powerful. That subconsciously gives you the feeling that you're unbeatable."
"Am I not powerful?"
"You are," Yuki admitted.
"You've built an aura. A sense that you are the strongest."
"Is that a problem?"
"Yes. That mindset makes you impatient with boring, repetitive training."
Kanzaki fell silent.
He thought back…
Running… basic drills…
He always followed the plan, but sometimes slacked off.
Even with Miyuki, he eventually became less diligent.
Terrifying.
Had he become complacent?
Arrogant?
Thankfully, he realized it now.
"Senior… arigato."
Yuki smiled.
"You don't need to take it too seriously. You're a first-year—strong in both pitching and batting. Being proud is normal."
"I believe Coach has also noticed. Do you know why he hasn't said anything?"
"Why?"
"Because you're a first-year."
Kanzaki didn't understand.
Yuki continued:
"Because you're a first-year, those flaws are normal. Because you're a first-year, Coach isn't worried."
Kanzaki thought deeply.
After a moment, he looked up.
"Coach… isn't waiting for me to stumble before pointing it out, right?"
Yuki smiled and said nothing.
Some lessons can't be taught.
They must be experienced.
But perhaps Kanzaki Ryou—who realized it early—would not need such a painful lesson.