Chapter 72: Extra: If Only My Left Hand Could Throw a Ball the Catcher Could Handle
Mukai Taiyo's voice was rushed, struggling to keep up with the boy walking in front of him.
"Rinichi!"
The gloomy Rinichi stopped in his tracks, eyes full of frustration and stubbornness. His hand clenched into a fist.
"Taiyo…"
"If the catcher can't catch the ball… then it doesn't count as pitching."
His voice caught in his throat.
"And that means I can't even be called a pitcher…"
Taiyo stared at Rinichi.
For someone as proud as him, this was the hardest thing to accept.
He knew—at the very moment Rinichi was rejected, his pride had been crushed.
Up until now, aside from his parents' divorce, this was the second major setback in his life—and both had happened nearly at once, combining into an even greater weight.
Taiyo didn't know what to say to lift him back up.
...
That night, Rinichi didn't eat dinner.
He curled up in the corner of his bed, hugging his blanket, muffling the sound of his crying. Every so often, a sob still slipped out.
At his door, Ryuichi stood silently for a long time, holding a tray of food.
In the end, he simply placed it down by the door and went back downstairs.
In the dark, Rinichi's eyes froze over with ice. The grief faded, replaced by cold determination. His hands clawed tightly at the blanket.
He opened the door, glanced at the food, and sat down to eat it all.
Each bite was sharper, heavier, like he was venting his feelings through eating.
...
The next day, Taiyo approached him again, uneasy.
"Rinichi—"
But when he saw him, the words he'd prepared all vanished. He couldn't say anything.
Rinichi's gaze fell on him. He turned slightly, a smile tugging at his lips.
"I'll keep playing. I'll play beautifully. And then I'll push that guy off the mound—"
His eyes gleamed with steel, his very being radiating a natural confidence and arrogance.
Taiyo was stunned.
But he didn't doubt him.
He knew—if Rinichi decided to do something, he would accomplish it.
"Taiyo, let's become a battery!"
A battery…
If it was with Rinichi, Taiyo was truly happy.
But…
The reason Rinichi chose catcher now was most likely out of hatred.
The only things that could drive Rinichi were extremes—either deep passion or deep aversion.
He had abandoned what he loved, to force himself into what he hated.
Taiyo answered seriously: "Yes."
But becoming a catcher wasn't so simple. Before this, Rinichi had only played outfield.
His eyes drifted toward the boy wearing No.1, standing proudly on the mound. His heart stirred with longing—
But when he remembered the moment the catcher failed to handle his pitch, he buried that longing deep.
Inside, it hurt.
Clutching the collar over his chest, he gritted his teeth.
....
Later, the two of them found a "secret base" where they could practice. Rinichi squatted behind the plate as catcher while Taiyo pitched.
For every throw, Rinichi gave him feedback.
He even looked up information to share with Taiyo.
Watching Taiyo throw with his left hand, Rinichi got an idea.
If his right hand wouldn't work… what about his left?
Maybe with his left, he could throw a ball the catcher could receive.
Maybe then he, too, could stand on the mound like Taiyo.
A faint sweetness welled up inside him—a fragile hope, but hope nonetheless.
That evening, Rinichi drew a crooked strike zone grid on the backyard wall.
With his left hand, he gripped the ball, and with an awkward, clumsy motion, he threw.
The ball smacked the wall, completely missing the grid.
And the speed—nothing compared to his right hand.
As expected, pitching with his left side felt strange, uncoordinated.
He opened his left hand, staring at it, then clenched it tightly.
This was his only hope. If he gave up, then he would truly have nothing left.
With that thought, Rinichi began training his unskilled left hand.
Writing with it. Eating with it. Throwing with it.
Every step was painfully difficult.
He had no idea when his left hand would ever grow accustomed…
It was like groping blindly through endless darkness.
Seeing the resentment in Yamaguchi's eyes, Rinichi felt nothing inside.
He didn't feel excited about forcing the other boy out of his position—maybe because catcher wasn't what he truly wanted, or maybe because it had been too easy.
Mukai Taiyo stood behind Rinichi, glancing between him and the senior Yamaguchi.
Then Rinichi said casually, "You're in the way."
Before Yamaguchi could respond, Rinichi stepped forward, deliberately bumping his shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance.
There was no way Yamaguchi could swallow such humiliation.
He spun and tackled Rinichi to the ground, and the two began fighting.
But Rinichi refused to back down—hitting harder, with no hesitation in his movements.
The coach panicked and rushed in to pull them apart.
Rinichi was left with a bruise on the corner of his mouth, but Yamaguchi looked far worse—nose swollen, face bruised, even missing a tooth.
That was mostly because Rinichi had slammed Yamaguchi's head down toward the ground, and Yamaguchi, out of fear, had arched back too hard, leading to that result.
Even Yamaguchi himself couldn't understand where Rinichi got such strength.
He pouted, then burst into loud sobs.
Rinichi got to his feet and stared coldly down at him.
Naturally, Yamaguchi's parents demanded answers and medical compensation.
Ryuichi, learning of the trouble Rinichi had caused, sighed and called their father.
But instead of Rinichi's parent, a stranger showed up—with a lawyer at his side.
Yamaguchi's parents, shocked by the scale of the confrontation, nearly found themselves facing a lawsuit.
In the end, they meekly accepted the medical and compensation fees without further protest.
By the next day, Yamaguchi was gone—he'd quit the team.
Just as expected. Rinichi didn't give it much thought.
....
There were plenty of spectators, mostly parents, though some came just to watch the kids play baseball.
"That must be Kamishiro… didn't think he'd be that good in the outfield. And as a catcher, even better."
"And paired with Mukai—those two make a solid battery."
By the third inning, runners were on first and second.
Rinichi thought for a moment, then spread his hands, setting his mitt low and centered.
Don't worry. Leave the runners to me. I won't let them score.
On the mound, Mukai Taiyo exhaled and nodded, aiming carefully for Rinichi's target.
The pitch wobbled a little, but it didn't change the outcome.
The batter gritted his teeth—weak contact. He had no choice but to run. Rinichi ripped off his mask.
The ball bounced, then back into Taiyo's glove. Taiyo quickly tossed it forward into Rinichi's mitt.
Rinichi fired it sharply to the second baseman.
"First base!" he barked.
The second baseman immediately relayed it to first.
Double play!
"Wow, impressive—what an arm that kid has."
"Yeah, and so composed, too." another spectator agreed.
Change of sides.
Taiyo and Rinichi exchanged smiles. They raised their mitts and gave each other a light tap.
"Nice pitching, Taiyo."
....
By sunset, the world was bathed in orange.
The scoreboard read 5–3.
Rinichi and Taiyo's team scored five runs; their opponents had three.
They won by two.
The two boys walked home with their gear, each chewing on an ice pop.
In the sweltering summer, it was perfect.
Even at this late hour, the cicadas hadn't stopped their endless chorus.
Up ahead, someone approached from the opposite direction.
Rinichi caught sight of his face and froze, his steps slowing. As the boy passed, Rinichi glanced back for another look.
But the other didn't so much as glance his way.
Rinichi stopped, turning his head to watch the fading figure.
Taiyo also looked back, puzzled.
"What is it? You know him?"
Rinichi was silent for a moment, then shook his head.
"Just… I've heard from others that he plays baseball too."
He walked on past Taiyo.
Taiyo caught up.
"Who?"
"Seems his name is Shinomiya… something like that," Rinichi said.
"A senior—a year above us."
Taiyo thought for a moment.
"Must be from the school's baseball club."
The school's club wasn't exactly strong.
"Yeah. He's a catcher—" Rinichi added.
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