Kanzaki Ryou felt that the scene he was expecting probably wouldn't happen.
Azuma Kiyokuni and Kawakami had been training intensively these past few days, and it was obvious that Azuma was quite satisfied with his junior's progress. Moreover, ever since Kawakami learned self-hypnosis techniques from Kanzaki Ryou, his mental resilience had become astonishingly strong.
If anything, Kanzaki suspected that Kawakami was now harder to shake than most pitchers on the team.
He walked to the edge of the field, sat down casually, and patted Miyuki's thigh.
"Water. Hand it over."
"Here." Miyuki tossed him the bottle.
Gulp, gulp.
At the same time, on the path outside the baseball field, Sawamura Eijun—looking exactly like a country bumpkin entering the big city for the first time—followed behind Takashima Rei. His head kept swiveling left and right, and every few steps he let out an amazed—
"Wow!"
"What are those people doing? And why are there so many of them?" Eijun asked, pointing toward the spectators gathered outside the field.
"Some are nearby fans. The ones holding cameras are reporters. And the rest are professional scouts and related personnel," Takashima Rei stopped and explained patiently.
"Reporters?" Sawamura blinked. "What do baseball and reporters have to do with each other? And what do professional scouts even do?"
He looked at Takashima Rei with pure curiosity.
He had been playing baseball for years, yet he had never once been interviewed by a reporter.
…
Takashima Rei quietly took two deep breaths.
This kid… was far more naïve than she imagined.
As they got closer, Sawamura's gaze was instantly drawn to the field. He stopped in his tracks, standing completely still, as if rooted to the ground.
On the field, Azuma Kiyokuni sent a ball soaring through the air.
In the next instant, a figure burst forward, leaping at an impossible angle. The ball—one that Sawamura was certain no one could catch—was swallowed cleanly into the glove. Before the player even finished landing, he twisted his body and fired the ball to another position.
"Kuramochi, your movement is too big," a calm voice said. "Just toss it gently. You can do that, right?"
Kominato Ryosuke smiled with narrowed eyes as he spoke to Kuramochi Yoichi.
Scrambling to his feet, Kuramochi snapped to attention like a soldier.
"Yes! I understand, Kominato-senpai!"
"Mm. Don't be nervous," Kominato continued kindly. "If you do that again next time, you can go and rest properly."
To outsiders, it sounded like the gentle guidance of a caring senior.
But Kuramochi knew better.
"Rest properly" meant get lost and stop wasting time.
"Yes!" Kuramochi felt a chill run down his spine and shouted even louder.
Sawamura's gaze drifted across the field—base running drills, batting practice, defensive formations, catching exercises, physical training. Dozens of players were fully immersed in their roles. Commands and shouts echoed endlessly through the air.
The intense, disciplined atmosphere made Sawamura's blood stir.
And at the same time… it weighed heavily on him.
So this is Seido…
Sweat-soaked figures moved tirelessly across the field. Their seriousness and dedication were deeply etched into Sawamura's eyes, striking his heart with undeniable force.
He suddenly remembered the words he once spoke so confidently—
That he would lead his hometown friends to the National Tournament, reach Koshien, and dominate the nation.
At this moment, those words felt painfully inflated.
After witnessing this scene, he couldn't help but question himself.
Can a team like ours really defeat them?
Even if he didn't want to admit it, he knew the answer deep down.
They would probably be crushed without resistance.
His gaze shifted between the two fields. The advanced training facilities, the equipment he had never seen before, and the vast baseball grounds all made his heart pound wildly.
Noticing his reaction, Takashima Rei spoke with confidence.
"How is it? This is Seido's training environment. Even compared to professional teams, our facilities are not inferior."
She believed that after seeing all this, the boy's view of baseball would inevitably change.
Winning—becoming champions—was never achieved by shouting slogans alone.
Scientific training.
Advanced equipment.
Reliable teammates.
Not one of these could be missing.
Yet to her surprise, Sawamura suddenly wiped away the overly envious expression on his face—the one that looked like he was about to drool.
"Well, they're all elite players recruited from everywhere," Sawamura said. "Of course they're amazing. And with facilities like this, it's only natural."
"Huh?"
Takashima Rei genuinely hadn't expected that answer.
Just moments ago, his face had clearly been filled with excitement.
"The more perfect it looks, the more unwilling I am," Sawamura continued firmly. "I really don't want to lose to a team that already has everything!"
Takashima Rei felt a headache coming on.
Why did it feel like bringing him here had the opposite effect?
"…May I ask why?"
"When did baseball become a sport only for people with money?" Sawamura said loudly. "Why do you have to travel so far from home? Aren't companions the most important thing?"
"We don't have fancy facilities," he continued, eyes burning with conviction. "But as long as we have our companions by our side, we can play baseball anywhere!"
His voice rang out, immediately drawing attention.
Several Seido players paused and turned their heads toward them.
Takashima Rei frowned slightly, a trace of displeasure flashing across her face.
"I understand your thoughts, but—"
"Most of the people here left their hometowns at fifteen for the sake of baseball," she said sharply. "They came to Tokyo alone, chasing their dreams."
"I've seen their sweat and hardships with my own eyes. From the bottom of my heart, I'm proud of them—and I respect them."
Her gaze locked onto Sawamura's.
"This…"
Sawamura was rendered speechless.
Her words struck him deeply. Guilt surfaced in his heart—had he said something he shouldn't have?
On the field, the Seido players smiled faintly, then calmly returned to their training.
Just then—
"Oi! You over there!"
A voice rang out.
Everyone looked toward it, only to see Kanzaki Ryou holding a bat, pointing directly at the boy beside Takashima Rei.
"Kid, I can't pretend I didn't hear what you just said."
Kanzaki wore a fierce expression—but deep down, he was barely holding back laughter.
Since Azuma Kiyokuni and Kawakami didn't make a move, then he would.
Please, call me Seido's best actor.
"Huh? Who are you?" Sawamura asked fearlessly.
"Kid," Kanzaki said coldly, his gaze sharp enough to feel murderous, "you said it doesn't matter where you play baseball, as long as you have companions by your side. Right?"
"Of course!" Sawamura raised his voice defiantly. "As long as you have companions and can play baseball happily, nothing else matters!"
Yet everyone could tell—his confidence was wavering.
"You're right," Kanzaki suddenly smiled. "If you're just playing a game of baseball, then the place really doesn't matter."
"A… game?" Sawamura froze.
This guy actually called it a game?!
"But—"
Before Sawamura could explode, Kanzaki's expression turned serious again.
"Everyone here gathered for their dreams," he said firmly.
"Facilities. Equipment. Reliable teammates. A wise Coach. A Beautiful Vice Director. A cute Manager—none of these are dispensable!"
The entire field fell into an eerie silence.
Oi, oi… you're mixing in personal preferences now.
What about me? What about me?!
President Ota pointed at himself eagerly, eyes full of expectation.
Kanzaki ignored him completely.
"Kid," Kanzaki said slowly, "if you truly have a goal you want to reach—"
"Happiness alone is absolutely not enough."