"How about that? Didn't expect it, did you?"
Miyuki straightened up slightly, a mischievous grin on his face.
Kanzaki Ryou turned his head toward Ono Hiroshi. Without a word, Ono raised the speed gun and displayed the number.
115 km/h.
The difference between this pitch and Kanzaki Ryou's current maximum fastball speed was nearly forty kilometers per hour.
"Hiss—!"
Kuramochi sucked in a sharp breath.
You had to understand—this wasn't a slow ball thrown casually.
This was a Changeup.
The two were fundamentally different.
"Pervert," Kuramochi muttered, clicking his tongue before picking up his bat and walking off to continue his own practice.
"Eh heh heh—anyone else want to try hitting?" Kanzaki Ryou asked, turning his head with a relaxed smile.
"I want to hit!"
Before anyone else could respond, a childish yet firm voice rang out from the doorway.
Everyone turned around.
Furuya Satoru stood there stiffly.
Seeing the usually silent boy speak up, Sawamura Eijun immediately refused to lose.
"I want to hit too!"
Kanzaki Ryou raised his hand and beckoned to them.
"Come here."
Both Sawamura and Furuya froze for a moment before their faces lit up with surprise and excitement. They jogged over eagerly.
"Thank you, Senior!"
"Aniki!"
Kanzaki Ryou nodded calmly. "Three chances each."
"If you can hit even one ball, I'll treat you to ice cream tomorrow."
The moment he said that, both of them practically started glowing.
"Aniki! If I hit two, can I get two ice creams?" Sawamura shouted confidently.
"Heh."
Kanzaki Ryou was speechless. Where did this guy get such blind confidence?
Furuya, standing beside him, seemed to have his competitive spirit ignited.
"Then I want three," he said seriously.
Miyuki, squatting behind the plate, burst out laughing. "Two? Three? You'd be lucky to even touch one."
"You're being underestimated, Kanzaki," Ono Hiroshi said, laughing along.
Kanzaki Ryou rolled his eyes and looked at the two freshmen. "Who's first?"
"Me!"
Both shouted at the same time.
They turned to look at each other, then simultaneously raised their hands to decide with rock-paper-scissors.
Sawamura threw scissors.
Furuya threw rock.
"…I won," Furuya said, lifting his chin slightly, clearly proud.
Kanzaki Ryou smiled faintly. "You two have good chemistry. When did you meet?"
"Meet? We don't know each other," Sawamura replied naturally.
"…."
Kanzaki Ryou hadn't expected that.
"Never mind," he waved his hand. "Furuya, get in the batter's box."
"Mmm."
Furuya nodded obediently and walked over to Miyuki's side.
He had always wanted to stand on this side—to see Kanzaki Ryou's pitching up close. He just hadn't expected the chance to come so soon.
"Tch… I was supposed to go first," Sawamura muttered unwillingly.
"Move aside," Kanzaki Ryou said calmly. "Don't block my pitch."
Sawamura stepped back obediently, looking aggrieved.
After confirming Furuya was ready, Kanzaki Ryou threw.
Whoosh!
Before Furuya could even react, the ball was already buried deep in Miyuki's glove.
Bang!
"How about that?" Kanzaki Ryou smiled. "Faster than your ball, right?"
"Mmm!"
Furuya nodded vigorously.
His fastball was already approaching 150 km/h, but after experiencing this pitch firsthand, he clearly felt the gap.
"You should watch more than just speed," Kanzaki Ryou said, already raising his arm again.
The second pitch flew toward the extreme outside corner.
Furuya swung—but the bat cut through empty air.
"Ono, speed?" Omae Yoichi asked.
"142," Ono replied.
Kanzaki Ryou nodded and turned back to Furuya. "See? Even when the ball isn't that fast, you still can't hit it. Do you know why?"
Furuya was silent for a moment, then lifted his head.
"…Control."
"Exactly." Omae Yoichi's tone became serious. "Remember the training plan I gave you. Your priorities are stamina and control."
"I know," Furuya replied immediately.
Seeing his earnest expression, Kanzaki Ryou smiled slightly. "As long as you understand. And remember—don't always throw with full power in games."
"Games?!"
Furuya's eyes lit up instantly.
"Not now," Kanzaki Ryou said calmly. "But it's only a matter of time. Just remember what I told you today."
Pitching isn't always better when it's faster.
Furuya clearly didn't fully understand, but he nodded anyway.
The third pitch followed.
Strike three.
After striking out Furuya, Kanzaki Ryou turned his gaze.
"Next."
"It's my turn!"
Sawamura marched forward, gripping the bat awkwardly, his posture stiff like a crab.
Just like Furuya, he swung wildly twice—both misses.
Watching Sawamura spin around from the momentum of his swing, Kanzaki Ryou couldn't help but laugh.
This guy was hopelessly hilarious.
"Looks like the ice cream's gone," Kanzaki Ryou said, glancing at Furuya standing on the side.
Furuya narrowed his eyes, staring intently at Sawamura.
The Tokyo heat was unbearable.
He needed that ice cream.
As if sensing Furuya's desperate gaze, Sawamura suddenly became serious.
When Kanzaki Ryou threw the next fastball, Sawamura did something unexpected—
He placed the bat forward.
Bang!
The ball tapped softly against the bat and dropped.
"…I hit it?"
Sawamura froze for two seconds.
Then—
"Yahaha! I hit it!!!"
He planted his hands on his hips and burst into laughter.
Kanzaki Ryou was speechless.
That bunt… was ridiculous.
"Does that count?" Ono Hiroshi asked blankly.
Everyone present was stunned.
This seemingly brainless guy had actually succeeded in bunting.
Kanzaki Ryou sighed inwardly. It was his own fault for throwing one too close to the middle. Otherwise, even a bunt wouldn't have been easy.
He turned to Furuya Satoru.
Those eager eyes were practically sparkling.
"It counts," Kanzaki Ryou said.
Instantly, color flooded Furuya's usually lifeless pupils.
Sawamura ran over and slapped Furuya on the shoulder, laughing loudly.
"Thank you," Furuya said sincerely, bowing slightly.
"Ya haha! Just leave it to me!" Sawamura said proudly, completely full of himself.
—
At the same time, inside the director's office—
A mustached man stroked his chin thoughtfully.
Under the gazes of Coach Kataoka, President Ota, and Vice Manager Takashima Rei, he slowly signed his name on the contract.
—
The next morning.
Kanzaki Ryou woke up as usual and went out for his ten-kilometer run.
These daily runs had significantly strengthened his stamina. Of course, he didn't bother with dragging tires or other unnecessary torture—there was no need.
But today was different.
For the first time, he wasn't the earliest one on the field.
Under the faint morning sunlight, a figure was already jogging steadily along the track.
Sawamura Eijun.
Kanzaki Ryou nodded slightly, a hint of satisfaction appearing in his eyes.
Coach Kataoka had only added five kilometers to Sawamura's morning run as punishment.
Yet this kid had arrived even earlier than him.