A girl in the Soubu High uniform strolled lightly across the grounds, her steps graceful and full of cheer.
The platinum morning sunlight spilled down her hair and shoulders, setting her brown locks aglow as if she were an angel stepping out of the sun itself.
Beneath her short skirt, her long, rounded legs shone with youthful energy, pale enough to seem almost radiant.
Her hands were clasped behind her back as she walked, deliberately showing off just how straight and beautiful her legs were.
Every step landed heel-first, knees unbending, her posture so cute it was almost criminal.
Each step felt like it landed directly on Kyousuke's heart.
"You all think Kyousuke knows nothing about the baseball club? He's not an idiot, you know."
Speaking so, she slipped through the crowd and naturally came to Kyousuke's side.
Without hesitation, she took the bat from his hands and stepped into the batter's box as if she belonged there.
She lowered her head, a few strands of hair falling loose, but ignored them.
Instead, she stamped the dirt twice with her shiny black shoes, scuffing them dirty, but also flattening the ground into the perfect footing.
Then she straightened, raised her chin, and shouldered the bat in a ready stance.
"So then, Captain Tsuchiya, do you know what this place is called?"
Her voice rang out bright and fresh, like morning sunshine brimming with energy, like dew on leaves sparkling with clarity.
The one called, Tsuchiya Ryouta, instinctively snapped to attention. No joking around here—this demanded seriousness.
Finally… my trump card is here!
Even if my so-called trump cards never help when I want them to, just her showing up is already the biggest support I could ask for!
"P-present! It's the batter's box!" he declared with his chest puffed out.
"The batter's box, huh? What a nice name. Sounds way better than something like an octagon cage!"
The girl burst out laughing, and Kyousuke couldn't help but smile as well.
"So this is what the view looks like from here…"
Yamauchi Sakura glanced around, her amber eyes sparkling with delight.
"Somehow… it really suits Kyousuke, doesn't it~~"
Her voice lifted even more cheerfully.
The bat slid off her shoulder—
'Whoosh!'
'Whoosh!'
Her slender arms swung the bat with surprising force, each motion cutting through the air.
Watching her fluid form, Tsuchiya couldn't help but think:
'Yeah, inviting Yamauchi-san to be the baseball club's manager was the right call.'
But… why did she say this position suited Hojou?
He wanted to ask, but didn't dare.
Didn't he see the way Hojou was gazing at her—so full of affection?
Even the kendo club guys who'd been loud just moments ago had all gone silent.
Everyone understood: this was Hojou and Yamauchi's time.
Still, soon he noticed something off.
Sakura's swings weren't just random; each one turned her body in a different direction—toward first base, then second, then third… more like she was pointing something out rather than practicing batting.
Finally, she planted the bat into the ground and exhaled.
"Whew… so tiring. Looks like my body hasn't fully recovered yet."
Then she smiled and said, "This is the position of the gods."
"Gods?" Kisaki chimed in, playing along.
"Mm-hmm. From here, you're looking at the field the way a god looks at people."
She lifted her pale neck proudly and leveled the bat.
"Kyousuke, standing here alone, holds the fate of the nine people before him.
Should he swing? Where should he aim—toward the outfielders, past first base, second base, or should he smash a home run and score in one go?
From here, Hojou becomes their god."
Her clear, joyous voice carried through the field, brimming with happiness—as if nothing pleased her more than seeing her Hojou in such a fitting place.
'That's right. Exactly like that!'
Hojou shone brightest no matter where he stood! Teams, victories—none of that should weigh him down.
All that mattered was that he had fun.
Looking at the girl glowing brighter than sunlight itself, then at Hojou's gentle smile, Tsuchiya began to doubt whether his decision had been right.
Then he remembered why he'd thought of inviting Yamauchi Sakura in the first place.
His eyes grew complicated as he glanced toward his friend, Tamaki Aonobu.
'My friend… was this all in your calculations too?'
"Phew, this bat's heavy. Bet my arms will be sore tomorrow."
Sakura walked back and handed the bat to its rightful owner.
"Good morning, Kyousuke."
"Morning, Sakura. Couldn't sleep in a little longer?" Kyousuke chuckled, leaning the bat against his leg as his hands naturally reached out to gently knead her arm.
"Hehe, I actually woke up on time. Set the same alarm as you. But last night I stayed up too late chatting with Shou-chan, so when the alarm went off, it… politely didn't ring. Just like the Kyousuke who gave it to me—gentle and considerate.
But being too considerate is wrong, so I scolded it properly. Right now, Momotarou's giving it a lecture too."
Only Sakura could make oversleeping sound so mystical.
"This is your first baseball game. How could I miss it!" she said at last, revealing why she was here.
At that, Kyousuke forgot all about Momotarou and the poor alarm clock. Instead, tension crept into his voice:
"And Shouko? She didn't come with you?"
That silly girl had gone to "confess" to Sakura last night.
Even knowing Sakura wouldn't make things hard for her, Kyousuke couldn't help worrying.
"Ehehe~ Kyousuke, are you sure you want me to say it here?"
Hands clasped behind her back, Sakura rose on tiptoe and leaned her mischievous smile close to him.
Seeing that silly, impish grin, the weight in Kyousuke's chest lifted.
"Relax, Shouko went to see Hiratsuka-sensei. Nothing happened, everyone's fine."
But as she said that last line, she stared unblinking into his eyes.
Seeing his reflection in those amber pupils, Kyousuke felt a strange, unsteady flutter in his chest.
"Anyway, let's train! Waking up this early would be a waste otherwise."
Sakura spun around, her skirt fluttering just enough to flash her safety shorts.
'That's it?'
Tsuchiya froze. That didn't answer anything!
"Oh right, Captain Tsuchiya. Don't overthink. Before you invited Kyousuke, hadn't you already decided how you'd handle things?
What did you call him again—Ticket-kun? Haha, such a cute name! I'll have to tell Aunt Mikiko."
She turned back with her usual playful grin.
"But I do have some advice. Depending on others isn't shameful. Having someone to rely on is a blessing.
But relying on someone else isn't easy. When you make that decision, you need the resolve to entrust everything to them. The characters I hate most in movies?
Those who, even when the hero shows up to save them, keep whining and making demands. Can't they see the situation? The hero's busy saving the world—who has time for your nonsense?
It's absurd. Shameless.
Baseball is like life. Until the very end, no one knows the result—that's true. But I prefer another saying: life is like a river; it never flows backward. Once you've made a decision, you can only cry when you finally see where it leads."
Her smile bloomed as brightly as the sun, yet her words chilled Tsuchiya and the baseball team to the bone.
One by one, the strong, broad-shouldered boys froze where they stood, limbs stiff and useless, wishing they could just dig a hole and bury themselves alive.
'Damn it… those kendo bastards were waiting for this show, weren't they?!'
Tsuchiya felt like a giant hand was squeezing his heart.
He didn't dare look at Hojou, though he could feel that sharp gaze burning from behind.
But he knew it had to be his imagination—Hojou wasn't the petty type.
Otherwise, Sakura wouldn't be saying these things for him.
If Hojou had really been offended, the kendo club idiots would've jumped in long before now.
Tsuchiya Ryouta froze.
Thinking back to the words he'd said earlier in the locker room, shame burned through him.
He'd dumped all responsibility onto Hojou, yet here he was demanding Hojou do things his way.
'What… what the hell am I even doing?'
From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his old friend, Tamaki Aonobu.
Sure enough, that smug bastard was grinning in satisfaction.
Ryouta clenched his teeth.
He had to apologize—kneel down if he had to.
Even if it meant smashing his forehead on the field until it turned to concrete, he would show his sincerity and learn his lesson.
This wasn't just recruiting a player—this was inviting a god!
He glanced at Nekota Tojume and the others.
Their eyes met, and he knew instantly—they felt the same.
If they had to do a dogeza, they'd all do it together.
But then—
"Alright, let's start practice. Work on batting first, then pitching."
That clear, confident voice cut through the darkness in their hearts like sunlight breaking through clouds. It was him—their Ticket-kun.
"Like Sakura said, you guys really underestimated me. Why shouldn't I be able to dominate both sides of the game? Am I not strong enough?"
"N-no, that's not it at all!" pitcher Fujikawa Masatake blurted out.
As the team's ace, he desperately wanted to see someone stronger join Soubu High, but that didn't mean he didn't want to see Hojou become a true two-way player.
When Ryouta and the others opened their mouths, Hojou raised a hand to cut them off.
"Enough. Baseball's a team game. Let's practice. You guys don't want people saying Soubu High's baseball club is just 'Hojou Kyousuke and his accessories,' do you?"
"Hahahaha~~!"
The tension shattered instantly. Laughter and lighthearted energy filled the field again.
"Honestly, even if they said that, I wouldn't mind. At least when people analyze our games, they'll say Hojou likes to steal bases whenever I'm at bat. That's pretty badass, don't you think?"
"Pfft! Have some shame. You've gone a whole season without a single home run, and you dare say that?"
"Idiot! That's exactly why Hojou can steal bases—because the other team lets their guard down when I'm up!"
"Then what's your research value?"
"…Good point. Damn it!"
"..."
Listening to their bickering, Yamauchi Sakura raised her lips into a small smile as she walked toward the benches.
What a noisy morning.
She turned, planted her feet in front of the bench, one hand cupping her mouth like a megaphone, the other waving high in the air.
"Do your best, Kyousuke!!"
"OOOH—!!"
Kyousuke swung his bat with a sharp whoosh.
Practice resumed.
He kept swinging, over and over, while the second- and third-years pitched and simulated fielding for him.
Things quickly fell into rhythm—except for one problem.
He was swinging so fast, they were running out of baseballs.
Even with the freshmen scrambling constantly to retrieve them, they couldn't keep up with his pace.
Every time his arms flexed, his muscles swelled like iron cords, brimming with endless strength.
He never tired, never weakened. Each swing sent balls flying higher and farther.
To the freshmen, it was a nightmare without end.
At some point, a quiet figure appeared beside Sakura, sitting down silently.
"Why did you agree to be the baseball club's manager? You don't even care about baseball. Isn't it a waste of time?"
Yukinoshita asked seriously, her gaze sharp.
"I thought you'd rather 'waste' your time just hanging out with Hojou. But now that you're here, Hojou, who used to take everything lightly, will actually start taking this seriously. Isn't that the opposite of what you wanted?"
To her, it made no sense.
Both Sakura and Hojou lived for doing the things they loved, indulging in what others called a waste of time.
Baseball wasn't one of those things. Even if Sakura tried to say—
"Yukino-chan, you think I should spend my last day alive doing nothing, just lying in the grass with Kyousuke, staring at the sky like idiots, don't you?"
"I never said that!" Yukinoshita snapped, brows furrowed, her face turned slightly away.
"But in your heart—"
"Not In my heart either!!"
'Don't twist my half-finished thoughts into a conclusion! That's not logical!'
She wrinkled her small nose, frustrated.
Something was off today.
Normally, Sakura wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, and getting up early should've made her brain even slower.
Yet somehow she was sharper than usual. That wasn't natural!
"The answer's already in what you just said," Sakura said with a sly smile. "Oh, by the way—Kyousuke's going to tutor Megumi tonight. Wanna come too, Yukino?"
"…In what I just said?"
Yukinoshita pressed her fist lightly to her nose, focusing on her breath as she tried to recall her own words.
As for Sakura's second comment, she ignored it entirely.
She wasn't about to risk losing to Hojou in that area—not yet.
…
Time flew when you were focused.
By the time Kyousuke had showered, changed back into his school uniform, and headed toward the academic building, Ryouta was still standing on the field.
He stepped into the batter's box and swung twice, then looked around at all the positions filled by his teammates.
Somehow… it really did feel different. Like he truly held everyone's fate in his hands.
Why had he never noticed it before? Why had he always thought the pitcher was the only god on the field?
"Yamauchi-san… then what about the pitcher's mound?" he asked suddenly.
Sakura turned and gave him a look that said what a silly question.
"Of course that's also the god's position. As long as Hojou's the one standing there—he's the god."
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