"Gather!!"
Coach Kataoka's voice cut across the field like a whip.
The First String immediately rushed over.
Even Ushijima Wakatoshi joined them, though he had no idea what this was about.
Coach Kataoka held a clipboard in his hand.
"I've compiled everyone's batting results against Ushijima's pitching."
"I'll read them out now."
The moment he said that—
The seven starters froze.
…This couldn't be good.
After the numbers were announced, everyone except Ushijima looked like they wanted to vanish on the spot.
"Kuramochi's batting average… below .200?"
One of the substitutes muttered in disbelief.
Kuramochi nearly dug a hole in the ground with his cleats.
"Even the captain is only around .500… Ushijima's pitches are seriously that sharp?"
"Masuko's good against fastballs, but even he only hit .200…"
"Remember, this was thirty consecutive pitches. Not game at-bats. Thirty straight chances and still this low… that's terrifying."
The atmosphere turned painfully awkward.
This wasn't just feedback anymore.
This was public execution.
And this training hadn't started yesterday.
They had been facing Ushijima for two whole months.
Back then, his Cutter and Two-seam weren't that scary.
The speed was under 140 km/h.
They could still manage.
But recently—
Once his control improved—
Every fastball type sat between 140–145 km/h.
Four-seam.
Two-seam.
Cutter.
Same arm speed.
Different movement.
Trying to hit that consistently was a nightmare.
They knew their averages had dropped.
They just didn't expect it to be this bad.
Coach Kataoka continued coldly.
"Starting today, First String will continue batting practice against Ushijima."
"Kuramochi, Kominato, Isashiki, Masuko, Shirasu."
"Your batting average must be above .400."
He turned.
"Yuki. Cleanup batter. .550 minimum."
Then—
"Miyuki. You're the catcher. You know Ushijima best."
".600 or higher."
Silence.
The numbers alone were already insane.
But Coach wasn't finished.
"If you fail…"
"Run the bases 120 laps."
"And swing the bat 200 times."
"…WHAT?!"
Their faces instantly went pale.
One lap around the bases was about 110 meters.
120 laps meant over 13 kilometers.
After regular practice.
After training.
After everything.
And then 200 punishment swings.
This wasn't training anymore.
This was torture.
Coach Kataoka's gaze hardened.
"Too harsh?"
"Ushijima throws 180 to 210 pitches for you every day."
"He finishes his own training first."
"Then he pitches to seven batters nonstop."
"And this is your result?"
No one dared speak.
All seven straightened instantly.
"YES, SIR!"
"Ushijima!"
"YES!"
He answered reflexively.
"In your batting practice, Furuya, Tanba, and Kawakami will pitch to you."
"Twenty balls each."
"Sixty total."
"As a pitcher, .400 is enough."
"If you fall below that…"
"The same punishment applies."
"…Huh?"
Ushijima blinked.
For once—
The ace of Seido High looked completely stunned.
How did this suddenly involve him too?!
They had just been beaten senseless during batting practice.
Their hit rates were terrible.
Their confidence was shot.
And now there was punishment waiting for them.
Of course they felt miserable.
But the moment they found out—
Ushijima Wakatoshi had to undergo punishment training too…
—and he had to face three pitchers at once—
Their mood instantly improved.
Somehow, that felt very fair.
Maybe even satisfying.
After all—
Those three weren't easy opponents.
Furuya relied purely on speed.
His fastballs easily exceeded 150 km/h, exploding out of his hand like cannon shots.
Worse, his control was unstable.
Sometimes the ball would suddenly rise or drift, completely throwing off the batter's timing.
Tanba specialized in breaking balls.
And everyone knew Ushijima wasn't particularly comfortable hitting sharp breaking pitches.
Then there was Kawakami.
A sidearm pitcher.
Not very fast—but tricky.
Multiple variations.
Excellent control.
Weird, deceptive trajectories.
Facing just one of them was annoying.
Facing all three back-to-back?
That was torture.
And Coach still demanded a .400 batting average.
That was basically insane.
Sure, Ushijima had developed serious power at the plate.
Statistically, his hitting was even comparable to Yuki's.
But even Yuki couldn't hit Ushijima's pitching above .500.
Now Ushijima had to face three completely different styles in a row.
The difficulty wasn't just high.
It was absurd.
"…Damn it. This is a disaster," Ushijima muttered under his breath.
"Even though I don't understand what you're saying," Miyuki snickered, "it sounds like you're swearing pretty hard."
"Don't laugh…"
Ushijima sighed helplessly.
But there was no choice.
Coach's orders were absolute.
"Alright. First String, go do strength training. Dismissed."
With that, Coach Kataoka waved them off.
As everyone started walking away, Kuramochi suddenly snapped his fingers.
"Oh right! Second Team has a practice match today."
"Hm? Against who?"
"Kokushikan High School. Tokyo East District, I think."
"They're probably scouting for promotions too. Maybe someone from Second Team will move up."
Hearing that, Ushijima spoke casually.
"Azuma Kiyokuni-senpai's probably coming up."
"The pitcher who got all those strikeouts? I'd bet on him."
"Huh? If that happens, won't we have too many pitchers?" someone complained.
"Tanba, Kawakami, Ushijima, Furuya, Sawamura…"
"That's five pitchers already. Out of twenty spots!"
Ushijima just shrugged.
"Doesn't matter."
"Furuya and I can both hit."
"I can play shortstop or the outfield too."
"If there are too many pitchers, I'll just field."
He stretched lazily.
"Besides… after pitching so many games lately…"
"It feels terrible when your pitch gets crushed."
"Even if we don't lose runs, I still prefer fighting back with my bat."
Everyone stared at him.
Speechless.
This guy…
Not only was he an ace pitcher—
He also wanted to be a power hitter.
In high school baseball, most players could barely master one role.
Pitchers usually couldn't hit.
Hitters couldn't pitch.
But Ushijima Wakatoshi?
He did both.
Maybe he wasn't the absolute best pitcher.
Maybe he wasn't the absolute best batter.
But when you combined pitching and hitting—
He was terrifying.
A true two-way player.
And honestly?
That kind of player…
Was the most dangerous of all.