At 4:05 a.m., Ushijima Wakatoshi arrived at the field as usual.
Without wasting a second, he began his morning run.
His pace was steady and disciplined, unchanged from day to day.
A full 20 kilometers, completed in one hour.
Coach Kataoka, who arrived punctually at 4:00 a.m., was already standing at the field when he noticed Ushijima running.
As always.
The second person to arrive was Sawamura.
Compared to Ushijima Wakatoshi, Sawamura's stamina was clearly lacking.
For a pitcher, stamina was not optional—it was fundamental.
Pitching a complete game required more than just raw speed or sharp breaking balls.
Without sufficient stamina, even the strongest pitcher would inevitably collapse in the later innings.
A regulation baseball game lasts at least five innings.
In most official matches, especially when both teams are evenly matched, games extend to nine innings.
There were exceptions, of course.
If the gap in strength between the two teams was too large, the game could end early.
For example, in high school baseball:
If one team leads by 10 runs after five innings, the game ends early.
In some formats, if the lead exceeds 7 runs after seven innings, the game is also called.
However, no matter how overwhelming the difference in strength is, a game must still last a minimum of five innings.
Now, let's calculate this conservatively.
In a single defensive inning, a pitcher must retire three batters.
If the pitcher strikes out every batter—which is already an ideal scenario—
each strikeout requires at least three pitches.
That means a minimum of nine pitches per inning.
Over five innings, that's 45 pitches.
And that's assuming everything goes perfectly.
Of course, there are rare cases where:
A batter swings at the first pitch and gets out.
Three batters are retired on three pitches.
But such innings are anomalies.
One inning like that might happen occasionally.
Two innings in a game? Rare, but possible.
Three or more? Essentially impossible.
Even elite pitchers can't maintain that level of efficiency.
In real games, pitchers inevitably mix good pitches with bad ones.
Balls are thrown.
Fouls are hit.
Counts stretch.
It's completely normal for a pitcher to throw ten or more pitches just to get through one inning.
For example:
Against a single batter—
Two strikes
Three balls
That's already five pitches.
If the sixth pitch finally results in an out, that's six pitches for one batter.
Multiply that by three batters.
That's 18 pitches in one inning.
Over five innings?
90 pitches.
And that's still assuming the opposing team is significantly weaker.
In an evenly matched game, things get worse.
Five or six batters might come to the plate in a single inning before three outs are finally recorded.
At that point, the pitch count rises even faster.
Let's imagine a worst-case scenario.
First batter:
The pitcher throws—
Two strikes
Three balls
On the sixth pitch, the batter connects.
A hit.
Runner on base.
And that's only the beginning.
The second and third batters followed the same pattern.
Full counts.
Two strikes.
Three balls.
On the sixth pitch, both reached base.
In the blink of an eye, first base, second base, and third base were all occupied—and not a single out had been recorded.
Six pitches per batter.
That was already 18 pitches thrown.
Then came the fourth batter.
Once again—two strikes, three balls.
This time, on the sixth pitch, the batter was finally retired.
The fifth and sixth batters were no different.
Both were dragged into full-count battles before being put away on the sixth pitch.
In this single inning, no runs were allowed—but the pitcher had faced six batters, all to full counts.
Six pitches per batter.
That meant 36 pitches in one inning.
Now imagine if every inning went like this.
To complete a nine-inning game, the total pitch count would reach—
324 pitches.
Just thinking about it was enough to make one's scalp tingle.
Throwing 324 pitches in a single game…
How much stamina would that consume?
For a pitcher, even completing a normal nine-inning game usually requires at least 100 pitches.
A standard baseball game lasts two to three hours.
Without sufficient stamina, a pitcher simply cannot endure that length of time.
Pitch variety matters.
Control matters.
But without stamina, neither of those things mean anything.
Once a pitcher becomes fatigued, control inevitably deteriorates.
Pitches begin to miss their spots.
Wild pitches appear.
And at that point, the danger isn't just losing the game—it's risking injury.
That was why stamina was the most, most, most important foundation for any athlete.
Not just baseball.
In any sport, endurance and physical strength formed the absolute base upon which everything else was built.
…
Thirty minutes later, Ushijima Wakatoshi had already completed ten kilometers.
Long before that, Sawamura had collapsed from exhaustion.
Even though Sawamura arrived later than Ushijima, the difference between them was painfully clear.
Ushijima continued running with steady breathing and unwavering rhythm.
Sawamura, meanwhile, could barely stand.
He didn't know exactly how deep Ushijima Wakatoshi's stamina went—
But he knew one thing for certain.
Among all the players on the team, including the third-year seniors,
No one could match Ushijima Wakatoshi.
That guy was simply a monster.
"Gather!!!"
At 5:00 a.m., the coach's voice echoed across the field.
No one waited for Ushijima Wakatoshi.
He had special privileges.
Every morning during assembly, Ushijima didn't need to attend unless he chose to.
After finishing his 20-kilometer run, he could return to the dorms, change into dry clothes, and then come back for practice.
"Phew—"
Right on cue, Ushijima Wakatoshi completed his final lap just as the coach called for assembly.
To be honest, it felt amazing.
He truly liked this body—this seemingly bottomless reservoir of stamina.
"Ushijima, go change your clothes and rest for a while," Coach Kataoka said calmly.
"We'll have a pitching test later."
"Yes," Ushijima replied without hesitation.
As he left the field, countless gazes followed his back.
Morning practice officially began, and the players quickly moved into position.
But then Coach Kataoka spoke again.
"First String members, stay behind."
The First String players halted, waiting quietly for instructions.
"For Ushijima's pitching test later," the coach continued,
"you First String starters will cooperate with his pitching practice."
He turned his head slightly.
"Miyuki."
"Yes?" Miyuki Kazuya answered immediately.
"You'll be the catcher."
"Yes!" Miyuki replied, his eyes sharp with interest.