Chapter 83: Extra: I'll Catch It Even If It Kills Me
After that, Shinomiya even handed Rinichi a small disc. Inside were all the pitching techniques he'd organized—MLB strikeout highlights, pitching form collections, and more.
Rinichi silently accepted it.
Not long after, everyone in Daikyou knew: Shinomiya had quit the team and would no longer play baseball.
With regret in their eyes, everyone slowly turned to Rinichi.
Other than Shinomiya, who else could catch him?
Only the catcher who could handle the ace's pitches could truly become the starting catcher…
But since no one at present could handle Rinichi's pitches, it defaulted to Taiyo Mukai and another catcher.
That made Rinichi seem more like a "fake ace," a title in name only.
Still, nobody dared provoke him—he was the pitcher who had led them to a national championship.
And the truth was clear: an ordinary catcher couldn't handle his throws.
Soon, April arrived. New blood was coming in.
Facing the row of new players lined up, Rinichi couldn't even be bothered to care.
By the time he snapped out of his daze, the self-introductions were already over.
Next was position testing.
Rinichi turned to leave—only for a newcomer to suddenly step in front of him.
"Kamishiro-senpai! I'm a catcher. Let me be the one to catch your pitches!"
Rinichi instinctively stepped back.
"…Who are you?"
The boy blinked, then smiled. "Okumura Koushuu."
Taiyo nudged Rinichi with his elbow and whispered, "Just try throwing one… If he can catch it, then you'll finally be able to pitch again."
Even the coach chimed in with the same thought.
With no way out, Rinichi reluctantly agreed.
Deep down, though, he was hoping this Okumura could really catch his pitches.
Clutching the ball in his hand, his eyes lingered on Okumura's tense expression.
…Can he really do it?
So nervous—there's no way he can handle my pitch.
Rinichi dropped his gaze to his right hand, then deliberately switched the ball into his left.
That alone drew everyone's attention.
Mostly, they were just worried Rinichi would get angry again.
After all, last time Shinomiya had left, the coach paired him with another catcher. That guy hadn't caught a single pitch—and Rinichi immediately stormed up ready to fight, regardless of seniority. If not for others holding him back, it would've gotten ugly.
Even then, Rinichi had shouted, "Why can't you catch it?!"
Ever since, he'd treated that senior coldly, and the poor guy had spiraled into self-doubt—probably because he compared himself to Shinomiya.
This time, though, Rinichi was using his left hand, like when he first arrived. It wasn't as dominant as his right, but still far above most pitchers.
First pitch—popped right out of the glove.
Second—barely snagged in the dirt.
Hope! Everyone thought the same thing.
But beyond that, Okumura missed everything clean.
Obviously, that wouldn't work in a real game.
Rinichi let out a slow breath. The others braced themselves to restrain him—
—but instead, he just said evenly, "Hold the glove steady. Don't move it."
Okumura froze, then quickly nodded, lifting his mitt toward the center zone.
The pitch flew straight, almost rising—his reflex was to shift the mitt, but he remembered Rinichi's order and held still.
The ball smacked the center of his glove… only to drop straight to the ground.
Okumura stared, pupils trembling.
Everyone knew—that was his last chance.
Rinichi lifted his eyes, then shifted his gaze away.
"Waste of time," he muttered coldly, and turned to leave.
That was him being merciful.
But Okumura ripped off his mask and sprinted after him.
"Kamishiro-senpai! Please give me another chance—I swear I'll catch it!"
His face was dead serious.
Even Rinichi was surprised by his stubbornness.
But he said nothing, stepping aside—until Okumura grabbed his shirt.
"Senpai, just one more chance!"
"I'll catch it even if it kills me!"
Everyone: "…" …That's too much.
Rinichi: "…"
"Let go."
"Not unless you agree!" Okumura's voice shook but his grip didn't.
"I don't want to—" waste my time.
But before he could finish, Okumura cut him off:
"Senpai, you want to pitch, don't you? I'll make sure you can."
Rinichi froze. His gaze slipped aside.
"…Before summer tournament… you get ten pitches a day. If by then you can catch me, fine. It's on you."
Taiyo: "…"
So stingy. He'd rather save his throws for the backyard wall. To Rinichi, this newcomer was still worth less than a wall.
But Okumura beamed at the chance. "Yes, sir!"
What Rinichi didn't expect—was that on a weekend off, Okumura actually showed up at his house.
"…What are you doing here?"
"Today's ten pitches!"
"…Who told you I was here?"
"Taiyo-senpai."
"…."
Rinichi was speechless.
So the two of them found a more open space nearby.
Okumura looked at Rinichi.
"Senpai, aren't you a right-handed pitcher? Why are you throwing left-handed now?"
Rinichi shot him a sidelong glare.
"If I pitched right-handed, you'd have even less chance of catching it."
He said it flat out, without the slightest thought for Okumura's pride.
When he threw the promised ten pitches each day, he showed no real patience—it felt more like he was just completing a task.
Rinichi was already starting to regret ever promising Okumura ten pitches a day.
Regret or not, he didn't go back on his word midway.
But today, when Rinichi came out, he was stunned to see someone else—an elderly man in a tracksuit—standing behind Ryuichi.
The old man smiled warmly and waved at Rinichi.
Rinichi: "…"
"…What's this supposed to be?"
Ryuichi explained, "Grandpa heard you've been playing baseball, so he found you a private coach."
Rinichi: "…"
"…I don't need it."
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