The next day, Seido's training began as usual.
Sawamura and Furuya continued their regular routine—physical conditioning, pitch drills, and theory study.
Meanwhile…
Ushijima Wakatoshi was dragged straight to the field.
"Ushijima, you bastard! Hurry up and show us those three pitches you've been hiding!"
"I couldn't sleep at all last night because of you!"
Isashiki complained loudly, clearly still irritated.
Beside him, Shirasu nodded silently.
As his roommate, he had also stayed up far too late.
In contrast, Ushijima had slept peacefully—and even gone to bed early.
"Here we go again," Ushijima said lazily from the mound.
"If you guys had this much passion for finding girlfriends, none of you would still be single."
"You bastard!!"
That hit a nerve instantly.
"Stick to baseball, not girlfriends!"
"And you don't have one either!" Kuramochi snapped.
Ushijima shrugged.
"I don't, but plenty of upperclassmen girls want to date me."
"I even ran into Momoi-senpai earlier. We talked about going to the movies."
"I told her I couldn't today because I had to pitch for you guys…"
"…and she got so mad she said she'd assign Miyuki and Kuramochi extra homework."
"WHAT?!"
Miyuki and Kuramochi exploded at the same time.
"We already have too much homework!"
"Are we even supposed to have time to practice?!"
"And you're going on a date with her?! She's my goddess!"
Kuramochi charged forward with a flying kick.
"Die, you bastard!"
Ushijima casually sidestepped, dodging it completely.
The field erupted into chaos for a moment.
Then—
"Alright, enough messing around."
Miyuki adjusted his glove and crouched behind the plate.
"Let's get started."
"Ushijima, try a curveball first."
"Bring it on!" Isashiki shouted from the batter's box, pointing his bat forward.
Ushijima glanced down at the ball in his glove.
He adjusted his grip carefully—
Fingers slightly off-center, middle finger pressing along the seam, thumb supporting underneath.
Then—
He began his pitching motion.
At first, it looked identical to his fastball.
Same wind-up.
Same arm speed.
But at the moment of release—
His wrist snapped.
The ball left his hand with a distinct spin.
Isashiki's eyes widened slightly.
But then—
"…It's slow."
That was his first thought.
The baseball arced high as it traveled—
Rising slightly—
Then suddenly dropping sharply as it reached the plate.
A clean 12-to-6 curveball.
Smack!
Miyuki caught it cleanly.
Isashiki didn't swing.
The players watching from the side were visibly surprised.
Tanba, in particular, narrowed his eyes.
As a curveball specialist, he immediately recognized it.
That pitch…
Its vertical break was almost as sharp as his own.
The speed wasn't impressive—
Just over 100 km/h.
But that wasn't the point of a curveball.
A curveball relies on:
a large arc
a sharp drop
and disrupting timing
Even in professional baseball, curveballs typically range from 96–130 km/h.
They aren't meant to overpower hitters—
They're meant to deceive them.
Think about it like this:
If Ushijima throws two fastballs at 145 km/h…
And the batter adjusts to that timing—
Then suddenly—
A curveball at just over 100 km/h drops into the zone.
The batter's timing collapses instantly.
Their swing becomes rushed or delayed.
And with the sharp drop…
It becomes extremely difficult to find the right contact point.
"This curve…"
Kominato glanced at Tanba.
"…isn't much worse than yours."
Tanba didn't reply.
But his silence said everything.
Ushijima threw another pitch.
Same motion.
Same release.
The ball traced almost the same path.
This time—
Isashiki was ready.
"Got it!!"
CRACK!!!
He swung with full force and sent the ball flying.
"Haha! I hit it!"
"For the first time, I hit Ushijima's pitch for a home run!"
"I'm definitely bragging about this!"
Isashiki laughed triumphantly.
Miyuki sighed.
"I literally told you it was a curveball beforehand…"
"Of course you could hit it."
"Shut up!" Isashiki snapped.
"After getting shut down by this guy for months, can't I enjoy one good hit?!"
His face was slightly red as he yelled.
Kominato smiled calmly.
"If you couldn't hit it even after being told, you shouldn't be batting third."
"…I know that already!"
Isashiki shouted back, embarrassed.
The others simply watched, amused.
Miyuki then looked back at Ushijima.
"Your curveballs are too consistent."
"The trajectory and landing point are almost identical."
"Can you throw one with a bit more variation?"
Ushijima frowned slightly.
"Do you think I'm a machine?"
"It's already good enough that I can throw it like this."
"I haven't practiced it much at all."
"You expect me to suddenly add variation?"
He shook his head.
"This isn't a fastball."
"Slowing the pitch doesn't magically give you better control."
"The key to a curveball is its movement and drop."
"If I haven't trained it properly…"
"…there's no way I can make it 'tricky' on command."
He wasn't refusing.
He was just being realistic.
Right now, his curveball was still raw.
The trajectory was limited.
Most of his pitches landed near the center.
But—
Because of the sudden drop—
Even a center pitch wasn't easy to hit.
Which was exactly why…
Isashiki hadn't swung at the first one.