Before anyone realized it, Friday had arrived.
At the Aoba Baseball Stadium, a tall, muscular man wearing brown sunglasses and dark tan skin marched confidently onto the field.
With a sharp whistle around his neck, he blew: Pheeep—!
Sweaty players on the field stopped and quickly ran toward the coach.
In under a minute, all the players had assembled.
With over a hundred people standing in rows like this, you'd think it was a scene from a sports anime.
Standing at the front of the team, Amatani Kensuke looked at everyone directly.
"Based on our practice games up until now, I've decided who will replace the injured Otani Shota in the varsity lineup."
"I'll announce the replacement now."
"The one joining the varsity team is—"
Amatani Kensuke's eyes settled on a well-built, mature-looking boy standing at the far end of the second row.
"Third-year Anai Tatsuya!"
Anai Tatsuya froze for a second, then burst into joy.
In three years with the Aoba baseball team, this would be his first time playing as part of the varsity squad.
And it would be his first appearance—at Koshien, no less.
Would his parents, all the way in Tottori Prefecture, see him on TV?
They definitely would.
"Congratulations, Tatsuya!"
"Koshien is where glory and dreams are born!"
"If you mess up, you're doing everyone's laundry for a week."
His teammates whispered their congratulations.
They kept it low out of respect for those who weren't selected.
For Anai Tatsuya, his summer was just beginning.
But for those who didn't make the cut, their summer was already over.
"That's all for to—"
"Coach, I'm part of the baseball team too. You haven't even tested me."
Before Amatani Kensuke could finish, a voice interrupted him.
Everyone turned their heads.
A handsome, long-legged boy strolled over.
"Kitahara, don't fool around."
Amatani looked at the team mascot with a serious yet helpless expression.
If any other player had interrupted him, he would've cussed them out.
But this was Takashi—his wife's beloved student. If he so much as raised his voice, he might not be allowed home tonight.
Takashi smiled.
"Coach, I'm not joking. I have what it takes to be on varsity."
The moment he said that, every player's expression turned hostile.
What do you mean "what it takes"? Say that again, punk.
"Kitahara, take that back."
Amatani barked, seemingly angry—but in truth, he was trying to protect the boy.
These were high schoolers, easily riled up. If one of them actually hurt Takashi, it wouldn't just be his wife—hell, even the principal would come after him.
Takashi bent down, picked up a baseball, raised his leg, swung his arm, and threw.
The moment the ball left his hand, it sliced through the air with a thunderous whoosh.
Everyone watched as it left a brilliant streak across the sky before slamming into the fence on the other end of the field.
It was dead silent—like a snowfall muffling the world.
Everyone was visibly shocked.
The distance between them and that fence was over 100 meters.
Only professional players could throw that far.
And the scariest part? That throw's sheer speed and power.
It was beyond even the current team ace.
Whoosh!
Before anyone could react, Takashi threw another.
Same distance. Same speed. Even hit the same spot.
Over the past few days, Shohei Ohtani hadn't taught Takashi any fancy pitches like splitters, cutters, or knuckleballs—just focused on control.
Speed was useless if it couldn't hit the strike zone.
Thankfully, Takashi had talent. In just four days, he had made solid progress.
He threw ten pitches in total. Not one dipped below 150 km/h.
"Coach, did I pass?"
Takashi's tone was gentle, his smile charming—every movement exuding the aura of a beautiful boy.
Amatani Kensuke finally came to his senses. After giving Takashi a long, thoughtful look, he replied:
"Approved."
Then he turned to Anai Tatsuya, eyes full of apology, and announced:
"Takashi will join the current nineteen varsity members. That makes twenty for the Summer Koshien."
The moment Anai Tatsuya saw Takashi's pitch speed, he knew his varsity spot was gone. He lowered his head silently.
"For tomorrow's practice, everyone's dismissed. Third-years not selected, please stay behind..."
Takashi also stayed, though he moved to stand under a tree nearby.
"I'm sure many of you are feeling deeply frustrated."
Everyone, including Anai Tatsuya, bit their lips hard, refusing to cry.
Of course they were frustrated.
More than half of them had left their hometowns and come to Tokyo for one reason: to stand on the field at Koshien.
They had fought fiercely for starting spots and endured brutal training for three years.
And what was the result?
Not even a chance to play.
Once they graduate, no one outside their school will even remember them.
"Competitive sports are cruel like that."
"Thank you all for practicing with me until now. You've worked hard."
After saying that, Kensuke Amatani gave everyone a deep bow.
The third-years, who had been holding back their tears, couldn't hold it in anymore when they saw the coach bow.
They had already been prepared for not being selected.
They had resolved not to have any regrets.
But—
But still—
They just couldn't accept it.
They couldn't accept that their summer had ended so abruptly.
That their high school years had come to an end like this.
"Ahhhh!!!"
No one knew who shouted out first in frustration, but one by one, people began to cry loudly.
Kensuke Amatani quietly left the area and walked to the shade of a tree, where he found Takashi.
Watching the players cry, he said, "They're all kids who tried really hard."
Takashi looked indifferent. "Hard work doesn't guarantee success."
Not every effort is rewarded.
If effort alone could bring results, success would be too easy.
"Without talent, no amount of practice matters."
In competitive sports, talent is the most important.
Hard work means nothing in the face of talent.
Kensuke Amatani didn't argue. "Anai Tatsuya had good relationships with the team. Since you took his spot, some people may resent you."
"I don't care. I joined the baseball club to win championships, not to make friends."
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