"Then what should I do?" Furuya asked seriously.
Ushijima looked at him calmly.
"First, remember this—this is Seido."
"This is Tokyo. One of the strongest high school baseball regions in Japan."
"There are no useless players here."
He gestured toward the field.
"Miyuki. Chris. Miyauchi."
"Three catchers who can handle your pitches."
"And behind you," he continued, "are seven fielders ready to back you up."
"You don't have to fight alone like you did in middle school."
"At Seido, baseball is about teamwork—not heroics."
Furuya listened quietly.
"What you need to understand," Ushijima said, "is that here, you are not special."
"You are the weakest one on the field."
The words were blunt—but not cruel.
"Every pitch you throw can be hit."
"And when it is, your teammates will defend it."
"That's their job."
"If you don't trust them, the coach won't let you stay on the mound."
"And if you insist on solving everything by yourself…"
"He won't let you pitch either."
Silence fell.
Furuya slowly looked around.
His teammates were watching him not with doubt, not with resentment.
With expectation.
They're telling me… trust us.
"I understand," Furuya said firmly.
"I'll change."
He bowed deeply to his seniors.
Miyuki couldn't help but grin.
"Alright," Ushijima said. "Now let's talk about pitches."
"Your fastball is powerful. Almost as strong as mine."
A few players twitched at that casual comparison.
"But your pitching style revolves around strikeouts. Even if you say you'll change, it won't happen overnight."
"That's why the first pitch you should learn is the changeup."
Furuya blinked. "Changeup?"
"Yes."
"The arm swing and trajectory look identical to your four-seam fastball."
"But the speed is different."
"If your four-seam reaches 150 km/h…"
"Then your changeup should be around 130."
"A 20 km/h difference is enough to completely destroy a batter's timing."
Furuya nodded slowly. That made sense.
"And then there's the forkball."
Ushijima held the ball between his fingers.
"It matches your style perfectly."
"It looks like a fastball, but right before reaching home plate, it drops sharply."
"If you combine it with your four-seam…"
"Your strikeout rate will increase naturally."
Furuya's eyes lit up.
Then Ushijima scratched his head.
"Though… it suits me too."
"I just haven't learned it yet."
"If I have time, I'll study it as well."
The field went silent.
Everyone stared at him.
This guy… wants to learn another pitch?
He already has five types.
If he adds a vertical-breaking forkball—
How is anyone supposed to guess what he'll throw?
No one dared imagine it.
Somewhere, in high school across the country, analysts were already studying Ushijima Wakatoshi's data and building strategies against him.
He had become that kind of player.
Three days later.
First week of July.
Ushijima checked in as usual.
[Ding! Treasure Chest Opened.]
[Congratulations! You obtained: Silver · Home Run.]
"…Huh?"
For the first time in a while, Ushijima looked genuinely surprised.
A silver reward… and it's Home Run?
Interesting.
Lately, silver chests had mostly given him cash rewards. Skill packs were becoming rarer as his abilities increased.
But this one—
Was different.
"Bang!!"
On the practice field, Ushijima swung.
The sound was sharp.
The ball soared high.
It barely cleared the fence—
But it cleared it.
A home run.
"…He hit one?" Isashiki muttered in disbelief.
"Even if it barely went out, that's still insane," another player said.
"Before this, no matter how he adjusted his angle, he couldn't send it over."
Kominato Ryosuke adjusted his glasses.
"After that summer prelim game… his batting improved again."
He sighed.
"I almost feel sorry for our opponents."
"Opponents?" Yuki Tetsuya replied calmly.
"They're also our future rivals."
"Huh?" Isashiki blinked.
Yuki continued thoughtfully.
"Ushijima's cousin is Chinese. We're Japanese."
"Baseball in China isn't strong right now."
"But if Ushijima continues to grow…"
"And enters university… maybe even professional baseball…"
"Then even China would build a team around him."
The atmosphere turned heavy.
"In future Asian tournaments," Yuki said quietly, "the final might be China versus Japan."
"We're teammates now."
"But one day…"
"We could stand on opposite sides."
The image was terrifying.
High school teammates—
Becoming international rivals.
Isashiki swallowed.
"I can't slack off," he muttered.
"This guy might become my lifelong rival."
"Damn it! I'll train harder!"
"I'll beat him before we graduate," Yuki declared calmly.
But even as he said it—
He knew how difficult that would be.
Still—
A goal once set must be chased.
Even if it feels impossible.