"Ushijima, your Shootball wasn't this fast during today's game."
Chris stood nearby, watching carefully.
"Back then, it had more variation. But right now, you're throwing it purely for speed."
"If you keep pitching it like that, it won't be a Shootball anymore it'll just be a high-speed jet fastball."
Ushijima Wakatoshi understood that perfectly well.
He had done it on purpose.
He intentionally made his control look unstable, as if the Shootball were still under development.
Miyuki Kazuya crossed his arms, frowning slightly.
"I seriously don't get it. How did you even develop this pitch?"
From the beginning, Ushijima could already throw a Four-Seam, Two-Seam, and Cutter.
And in just three months, he had added both a Sinker and a Shootball.
That kind of evolution was almost monstrous.
"I discovered it while refining my Sinker," Ushijima explained calmly. "The Shootball was popular in the '70s and '80s."
"It looks similar to a Sinker at first. For a right-handed pitcher, both break toward the right."
"The difference is that a Sinker moves down and away."
"A Shootball slides more laterally sometimes even drifting slightly upward and inward."
He threw another pitch as he spoke.
This time, he chased pure velocity.
The ball exploded out of his hand past 145 km/h, pushing toward 150.
Miyuki barely secured it in his mitt.
The speed alone wasn't overwhelming, but the sudden inward jump rising toward the inside corner made it dangerous.
Coach Kataoka observed in silence.
Back in his own playing days, he had relied only on a Four-Seam, Slider, and Forkball.
Now, this first-year already commanded five different pitches.
Times had changed.
"It depends on what kind of Shootball you want," Kataoka finally said.
"You can sacrifice speed for better control and sharper break."
"Or chase velocity and accept poorer control and less movement."
"This decision is yours."
It was a skill set Ushijima would carry into his professional future.
Either path would become a powerful weapon for Seido.
Ushijima considered his current limits.
At maximum effort, he could push 150 km/h but his control deteriorated sharply.
If his control ever reached a higher level, 150 km/h with precision would be terrifying.
For now, he made his decision.
Maintain sharper break. Sacrifice some speed.
A 140 km/h Shootball with violent movement was more practical than a wild 150.
"Alright, that's enough for today," Coach Kataoka called out. "Don't overwork your shoulder."
Ushijima nodded and lowered the ball.
But just as he turned—
Sawamura and Furuya suddenly bowed stiffly in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Ushijima blinked.
"Please teach us how to pitch!" Sawamura declared dramatically.
Furuya nodded beside him in perfect sync.
Ushijima looked at them, half amused, half exasperated.
Which pitch could suit them?
Four-Seam was basic—no need to teach that.
That left Two-Seam, Cutter, Sinker, Shootball, Curveball, Screwball…
His gaze settled on Sawamura.
Sawamura's natural mechanics were unusual. His flexible shoulders and delivery already gave his fastball late movement—almost like a natural Two-Seam.
Ushijima had experienced it personally.
He had even been struck out by Sawamura before.
That humiliation was exactly why he had studied Sawamura's pitching in detail.
From the side, Sawamura's fastball looked like a standard Four-Seam.
But near home plate, it drifted unpredictably.
That late movement made it lethal.
And then there was his Cutter—sharp and biting.
"If you want to learn something," Ushijima said finally, "learn the Cutter."
"Cutter?" Sawamura's eyes widened.
"You're naturally overconfident," Ushijima continued bluntly. "You won't lose heart even if you get hit."
"If you combine a Cutter with your natural movement, most batters unless they're elite hitters like me or the captain won't be able to lift it."
"Their swings will be jammed. Grounders to the infield."
Sawamura listened intensely.
For about five seconds.
Then his eyes glazed over.
His mind drifted into some bizarre fantasy of strikeouts, heroic poses, and crowd applause.
Chris sighed immediately.
"There it is again…"
Every time he tried teaching Sawamura something technical, the boy's attention span evaporated.
Coach Kataoka, Manager Rei Takashima, and Miyuki all shared the same exhausted expression.
This was exactly why Chris often reported, "I tried teaching him, but he just can't focus."
Kataoka understood.
He had personally taught Sawamura pitching mechanics, while Chris handled technical refinement.
But Sawamura's concentration lasted only moments before wandering off.
"Unbelievable…" Miyuki covered his face.
Then he glanced at Furuya equally airheaded, staring blankly ahead.
And Miyuki sighed again.
There were two of them.