(Eijun's POV)
The faint beeping in my head—Jack's alarm—drags me out of sleep.
I groan, rubbing my eyes before sitting up. Across the room, Masuko-senpai is still snoring away in his bed, one arm hanging over the edge. Below me, on the lower bunk, Mochi-senpai's wrapped in his blanket like a burrito.
I take a deep breath, a smile tugging at my lips. *Man… this feels nostalgic. The whole day's gonna be, huh?*
Careful not to wake anyone, I climb down the bunk and tiptoe to our shared bathroom. A quick brush of my teeth, a splash of cold water, and I'm back—sliding into my practice pants before realizing my shirt doesn't fit. I tug, twist, stretch. No use.
"…You've gotta be kidding me."
*Boss should be in his office by now, right? Let's go ask for a bigger uniform.*
I pull on one of my casual shirts and a hoodie over it, careful not to make a sound, and slip out.
The dorm halls are quiet, faint light spilling through the windows. I glance around as I walk out of the dorm. When I reach Boss's office, I knock.
"Come in," comes the muffled reply.
I push open the door and stand at attention, snapping a salute like a soldier. "Boss! This Sawamura Eijun has something to talk about!"
Boss sets down his pen, peering over his glasses. "What's the issue, Sawamura? And why are you in a hoodie instead of your practice clothes?"
I scratch the back of my head. "Well, Boss, I was planning to go for a short run before practice—just a light version of my morning routine. But when I tried on my uniform…" I tug at my pants and sigh. "Only the trousers fit. The shirt was too tight to move in."
Boss exhales heavily, walking over to a cabinet. "Sawamura, that was a standard first-year shirt." He grabs a box from the top shelf. "Take off your hoodie and shirt. I'm guessing you don't even know your size."
"Eh—Boss, that's kinda sudden—" I start, but he gives me that look. The one that means don't argue. I sigh and pull them off.
When I look up, Boss's sunglasses have slid down a bit—his eyes are wide. I blink. Then frown, looking down at myself. "What's wrong, Boss?"
He clears his throat. "Nothing. It's just… your body doesn't look like a first year's."
I grin, flexing slightly. "I know, right? My mom even had to buy me new clothes! I told you I trained like hell after the tour!"
Boss shakes his head but can't quite hide his smirk. He hands me a new shirt. "Here. That's a second-year size. Try it."
I pull it on—it fits perfectly. Loose enough to move, tight enough to feel good. "Thanks, Boss! This feels way better!"
I turn to leave but pause. "Oh! I actually have two more things to ask."
Boss sets the box back and raises an eyebrow. "What is it, Sawamura?"
I straighten up. "Well, first… I'm a southpaw, but I've trained my right arm to pitch too. If my left gives out mid-inning, I can switch and keep going. That means I use an ambidextrous glove, but both my pitching and outfield gloves are basically falling apart. Should I buy new ones myself, or does the school provide them?"
Boss freezes mid-step, then leans forward over his desk. "Wait. Sawamura—you can pitch both-handed?"
I nod earnestly. "Yes, Boss. My right arm's faster but has fewer pitches and less control than my left. Still, it's about ten miles per hour faster. I think it could hold up fine against most batters."
His eyebrow twitches. "And your… unorthodox form works with both arms too?"
"Yup! It's all about flexibility. My body's balanced on both sides."
He leans back with a smirk. "One more question before I answer yours, Sawamura. Do you think the first-year catchers could handle your pitches?"
That makes me freeze. I glance down, bounce once on my heels, and meet his gaze again. "Honestly, Boss? No. I think only three catchers here could catch my pitches right now—Miyuki-senpai, Chris-senpai, and Miyauchi-senpai. But Chris-senpai's injured, right?"
Boss nods slowly.
"I'd rather not risk him worsening it. My right arm throws harder—he should wait until it heals more. My left should be fine though." I rub the back of my neck. "I'm not trying to sound arrogant. I just… don't want anyone hurt. My left hits 150 mph. My right's around 160. Both break hard."
Boss inhales sharply, staring at me.
"Alright. For the first-year tests, Miyuki will catch for you," he decides. "And for your glove question—yes, the school will provide one. How soon do you need it?"
"Uh…" I open my bag and pull out what's left of my glove. The leather's torn, stitches frayed, barely holding together. "Before you say anything, Boss—I did take care of it every night. Changed the strings once. But it was cheap, and I practiced… a lot."
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'll have Takashima pick one up before practice. Now, what's your second question?"
"What will today's practice consist of? I need to know how much of my morning training to cut back so I don't overdo it."
He crosses his arms. "Before breakfast, introductions and running. After breakfast—tests. Sprints, throws, grip, batting, fielding, and pitching. After lunch? Running until practice ends."
A blue screen flashes before my eyes.
---------------
DAILY TASKS:
4 km run
30 push-ups
30 burpees
30 10m sprints with tyre
30 pull-ups
20 minutes stretch routine
Completion Reward: +10 Attribute Points, +1 for every stat, Recovery Potion
Failure to Complete: Decreased ability during skills tests
---------------
I nod. "Alright, thank you, Boss. I'll tone it down—stretching instead of ballet and yoga."
He sighs but smiles faintly. "Fine. And since I know you'll go crazy if you don't finish your training, I'll allow you to come late to practice. Just this once."
"Thank you, Boss!" I bow deeply.
He groans. "Why do you even call me 'Boss,' Sawamura?"
I grin. "Because it suits you more than 'Coach.'"
He waves me off. "Go."
"See you at practice, Boss!"
I sprint out of the office and head straight for B Field. The air's cool, the grass damp. I start my routine, flying through the tasks like clockwork. Every rep's easy, every breath steady.
By the time I finish stretching, I spot the others lining up on Field A with Boss at the front. I wipe my forehead—barely sweating—and jog over.
Halfway there, I see Miyuki crouched behind the storage shed, trying (and failing) to hide.
"Hey, Miyuki Kazuya, what're you—"
He drags me beside him, slapping a hand over my mouth. "You idiot! If the Coach sees you're late—"
*Oh, this'll be fun. By the way Jack, add all 10 points to Control.*
"So what's the plan, Miyuki?" I whisper.
He glares. "It's Miyuki-senpai, got it?"
"Act like one, then. Now what's the plan?"
He rolls his eyes. "We wait for that guy to finish his introduction, then you run out first, and I'll follow. Got it?"
*I'm not that dumb… anymore*
I nod. Then immediately stand up and walk toward Boss.
Miyuki whisper-shouts, "You idiot—!"
Boss turns as if sensing my presence. "Sawamura."
I bow. "Boss! Sorry for being late!"
He sighs. "Just join the line, Sawamura."
"Yes, Boss!" I salute and march to the first-year line, grinning like an idiot.
Miyuki, thinking the coast's clear, strolls out with a grin. "Sorry for being late, Coach. I'll—"
"Miyuki," Boss cuts in. "Run laps. Until morning practice ends."
Miyuki freezes. I smirk.
"Before you say anything," Boss adds, "Sawamura was late because I allowed him to. Now run."
The upperclassmen snicker as Miyuki groans and starts running.
When its my turn for introductions, I step forward proudly. "Sawamura Eijun! Pitcher! I'll become Ace and lead this team to Koshien!"
The grin on my face is wide enough to hurt. Eyes turn toward me from every direction, and I feel my chest tighten—not from nerves, but excitement.
Boss just sighs. "first years, run till end off practice."
When the run starts, every first-year sprints full-speed like it's a race. I shake my head and settle into a steady jog. One by one, they slow, gasping for air.
After a few laps, I catch up to Miyuki. "Yo, Miyuki Kazuya."
He shoots me a glare.
"Oh, come on, it's your fault you were late, Miyuki-senpai"
He smirks. "You think you can keep up till the end?"
"Would I be here if I couldn't?"
"Sure, sure," he says, speeding up.
I grin. "Don't underestimate me, Miyuki Kazuya!"
We end up running nearly 10 km. When it's over, I'm still breathing easy, barely sweating. The other first-years? Flat on the ground.
I poke Miyuki. "Hey, is that… normal?"
He laughs. "Yeah. You're the weird one, Sa-wa-mu-ra. Keeping up with a second-year."
*They sprinted from the start… but still, they can't even stand?*
I shrug and head toward Boss and Rei-chan. "BOSS!"
They both look over.
"Boss, Miyuki said I'm the odd one out, but look at them!" I point to the collapsed first-years. "It was just 10 km! Shouldn't they be fine? Didn't they train before?"
Boss and Rei exchange glances before Rei-chan smiles. "Sawamura-kun, you're used to 10 km runs, right?"
I nod.
"Well, the others aren't," she says gently.
"Ohhhh." I nod. "That makes sense. Thanks, Rei-chan! Thanks, Boss!"
I jog off toward the cafeteria.
The sign reads: 'Three bowls of rice per meal'
I grin. *Used to be a struggle to finish that much.*
I spot Mochi-senpai and Miyuki waving me over and plop down beside them.
"So, Sawamura," Mochi-senpai starts, "heard you kept up with Miyuki this morning."
I swallow my bite. "Yup. Told him not to underestimate me. But he sped up just to be petty, even though it wasn't my fault he was late."
Miyuki smirks. "Oi, you call Mochi 'senpai,' but not me? I'm hurt."
"Act like one and I will," I shoot back.
Mochi-senpai bursts out laughing, throwing an arm around me. "Hah! I like this kid. Imagine—he pranked me and Masuko last night instead of the other way around, then woke up earlier than us after gaming till two a.m.!"
I blink. "Oh, sorry, Senpai. Did I wake you this morning?"
"Nah, brat. You were already gone. Where'd you go, anyway?"
"I went to Boss's office—my shirt didn't fit, so I needed a new one. We talked about a few other things too."
Mochi-senpai squints. "Didn't fit?"
"Couldn't even lift my arms. It was bad."
He immediately grabs me in a headlock, laughing. "Brat, what do you mean it didn't fit—you're just a first year!"
"I tap out! I tap out, Mochi-senpai!" I yell, flailing as the cafeteria bursts into laughter.
When he finally lets go, I slump back into my seat, gasping. "I thought I was gonna die…"
I shovel another bite of rice into my mouth. "Oh yeah—Miyuki, you're catching for me during the first-year skill test."
Miyuki raises a brow. "Oh? What do you mean by that, Sa-wa-mu-ra?"
I mumble, "Coach's orders…"
He smirks. "Is that so?"
I glare at him.
By the time we finish eating, I can feel the stares of the other first-years burning holes in my back. I gulp. *It's not my fault I can eat three bowls, okay?*
I stretch my arms and grin. *Alright. Next up—tests.*