Chapter 76: Extra: I Don't Like Pitchers Who Shake Their Head at My Calls
The sun hadn't fully risen yet, and the room was still pitch black.
The alarm rang out sharply.
Half-asleep, Rinichi groggily stretched out a hand, fumbling across the desk beside him until he found the button to silence it. His eyes were hazy, his hair messy, and he reluctantly dragged himself out of bed.
Yawning, he changed into his training clothes, washed up, and headed out for a run.
Just the thought of waking up this early every day to run already made him feel exhausted. Still, once he got used to it, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
The pre-dawn wind was cool and refreshing, waking him up a little. His mind kept replaying what Shinomiya had told him:
"There are many things you need to overcome… First, running. Your lower body isn't stable enough when you pitch. But this running is extra training—make some time for it. Don't run fast, just jog. I don't expect you to join track and field… And also, our league uses hardballs too. While games are mostly with rubber balls, get used to handling hardballs, get a feel for them. Most importantly, you need to build your grip strength."
Grip strength?
"Do as I say, and I'll make you into a true ace."
Ace…
The word lit a fire in Rinichi. His pace picked up, steps quickening with sudden energy.
Of course, it didn't last. Before long, he was leaning against a wall, gasping, drenched in sweat, cursing himself under his breath.
Since he'd never woken up this early before, by the second period at school he was already collapsed on his desk, half-asleep.
The class around him stared in shock.
"Am I dreaming?"
"Nope, you're not. Kamishiro-kun is really sleeping in class."
"Ahhh, he looks so cute when he's asleep."
"What are you waiting for? Take a picture!"
The room buzzed with chatter. Even the teacher, writing at the board, noticed the commotion—his chalk snapping in irritation.
"Kamishiro! My office after class!"
The shout jolted Rinichi awake.
"…."
After class, he sat through several minutes of scolding in the office. The teacher asked for a reason.
When Rinichi mentioned baseball, the teacher's expression softened.
He asked again—why not join the school's baseball club?
Obviously, the youth league team was better.
Rinichi didn't know how to answer. If he said bluntly that the school's catchers couldn't handle his pitches…
He thought better of it, and stayed quiet.
The teacher sighed, muttered a few words about not neglecting academics, and finally dismissed him.
....
Later…
"You only throw fastballs?" Shinomiya asked in disbelief.
So this kid had been practicing alone in the corner, and all he had was a straight pitch?
Shinomiya rubbed his forehead.
Rinichi averted his eyes. "…" He didn't want to explain again.
"Then learn now. I'll teach you," Shinomiya said.
A catcher teaching a pitcher how to throw? Rinichi thought skeptically.
What Shinomiya taught was the grip for a forkball.
Rinichi found it oddly fascinating.
Shinomiya crouched behind the plate, fist tapping his mitt, then raised the glove as a target. "Go on, throw it."
Feeling a little tense, Rinichi nodded.
He recalled the adjustments Shinomiya had given him yesterday—fixing his pitching form, the way to hold the ball, using both his upper and lower body in unison.
He pitched.
Bang—
The ball landed squarely in Shinomiya's glove.
Even Shinomiya looked surprised.
I only taught him the grip, and he pulled it off? Was that just luck?
He rose, tossed the ball back. "Good ball. Do it again."
Second pitch.
Third pitch.
…Fifth pitch.
No difference. Each one thrown perfectly.
"You really never pitched a forkball before?" Shinomiya asked.
Rinichi shook his head hard.
"…" Shinomiya was speechless.
He stood again. "Alright, let's try a change-up."
He showed Rinichi the grip, then crouched back down with his mitt.
"Throw."
The ball landed cleanly again.
Shinomiya: "…"
The air fell silent.
Meanwhile, Rinichi wondered if maybe his pitch wasn't good enough.
No way… I think I threw it well.
He looked down at his right hand, then glanced up at Shinomiya's slightly darkened expression.
"Are you really sure you've never pitched this before?"
The pressure in Shinomiya's stare made Rinichi freeze, nodding frantically.
Then Shinomiya grinned, though his eyes still carried a hint of fear—fear of Rinichi's sheer talent.
He's got control… he's got velocity… and he picks up new pitches in a single try…
"Don't tell me—if someone throws a pitch once, you can copy it too?" Shinomiya asked, half-joking. That's impossible…
"Probably… yeah," Rinichi muttered after thinking about it. "It didn't seem that hard."
Shinomiya: "…"
He can't be serious… right?
To be sure, he pulled up a video clip of a slider being thrown.
The grip wasn't very clear in the footage.
"Can you throw this?" he asked, playing it only twice.
Rinichi hesitated. "…I think I can."
"…Maybe."
Shinomiya: "…"
No matter. They'd see soon enough.
Back in the bullpen, Shinomiya crouched again, eyes fixed on Rinichi.
When Rinichi began his windup—
That motion… it's exactly the same as in the video!
The release point, the stride, even the trajectory of the ball—perfectly replicated.
It was uncanny.
And Rinichi, smiling in satisfaction, was convinced he'd done great.
"Show me your grip," Shinomiya said.
Rinichi held up his hand, displaying how he'd been gripping the ball.
Even though the grip in the video was blurry, he could still somehow mimic it correctly just by feel…
But Shinomiya didn't smile. His voice dropped low, tinged with displeasure.
"Don't you know how to pitch with your own form?"
Rinichi: "…"
Shinomiya stood up, tossing the ball back to him.
The moment Rinichi caught it, he could sense the older boy's irritation.
Use my own pitching form?
Does it even matter what form I use?
It felt… difficult.
Thinking that, Rinichi reverted to his natural motion and threw again.
The air fell silent once more.
Rinichi: "…"
Did I mess it up?
"Strike."
Shinomiya's smile returned, and Rinichi exhaled in relief.
Removing his mask, Shinomiya's eyes gleamed with a mix of madness and satisfaction.
"Did you follow what I told you to do?"
Rinichi jolted. "Yes! I woke up at five this morning and went running!"
A strange, knowing chuckle slipped from Shinomiya.
"Good…"
"Keep doing exactly as I say… and I'll turn you into the strongest pitcher."
Rinichi looked at him.
There was no trace of a joke in those words.
The strongest…
"But there's one thing you should understand…"
Shinomiya's tone hardened, his smile sharp.
"I don't like pitchers who shake off my signs."
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