Chapter Text
They lost.
A statement that otherwise wouldn’t have been too much of an issue held a sort of tense ambiance to it because it wasn’t any normal loss.
A score of 3 to 5.
Normally, this would seem like it’d been a close game. One where both teams played to the best of their abilities, duking it out on the field where balls were flying everywhere and each team was pumping with adrenaline.
This was nothing like that.
Seidou had gotten 2 of those runs early in the game, setting the momentum, but it quickly went downhill from there.
It was during the fifth inning when it happened—Furuya had been off his game all day, and yet no one mentioned or even so much as put in a single thought to a pitcher shift when it was clear that Ichidaisan were getting a better read on his, fairly unstable, pitches.
The crowd, hyped for the Seidou ace to return to his true form, were left utterly flabbergasted when the black-haired teen not only gave up multiple runs during this inning, but loaded up the bases for their cleanup to potentially bring home.
What was going on? What was happening? How did this happen?
Those were the questions floating through the audience’s heads, each one of them getting more and more confused as to what was wrong with the teen, and why his coach was saying and doing absolutely nothing about it—clearly the boy was having some trouble. Seidou had two capable pitchers to relieve him—why was the coach keeping him in?
Sure, plenty of people were eager to see the ace regain his footing, but it was clear to everyone watching that he needed to be switched out, especially since the poor boy hardly looked up to the task of striking out the enemy team’s cleanup.
So, with all bases loaded and only one out, the other team’s cleanup coming to bat, it was then, and only then, that Seidou’s coach finally made the call to switch pitchers.
Many people in the stadium, both on and off field, felt particularly bad for the southpaw as he took the mound, put into a situation that was, in no doubt, probably the most stressful predicament the poor brunette had ever been in to date, but what happened afterwards shocked everyone.
Not only did the southpaw relief not lose his cool, but he also managed to earn two strikeouts without letting any of the people on base score another point.
It was amazing—it was unthinkable. And, yet, as the brunette cheered and the crowd went wild, the once tense atmosphere broke and everyone felt as if things were going to get back on track—that Seidou would pull back and win this game once and for all.
The end score was both a slap in the face and a vicious mockery to those that left the stadium that day.
The boy who took over at the end of the fifth inning, Sawamura Eijun, was a breath of fresh air everyone from the outside looking in knew they needed.
Why wasn’t he brought in earlier? Why was the ace, Furuya Satoru, left in so long, when it was clear he was pitching unstable at best and outright horribly at worst?
No one knew, but that didn’t stop the onlookers from whispering to each other as they exited the stadium, quiet murmurs of jeers and accusations as well as genuine confusion blanketing the area.
One woman in particular stood outside of the stadium, cigarette in hand as she let out a long sigh, the smell of nicotine brushing against her nose as the puff of smoke blew forward.
In her other hand was a phone, which she had been holding for a few moments, staring out at the blue sky in contemplation, tapping the case of the device in her hand for a second or two before lifting it up and quickly dialing a number, bringing it to her ear as she heard it ring.
It took a few moments, but the call was eventually answered and a tired, gruff voice echoed in her ear, “y’ello?”
Taking another drag of her cigarette, she blew out the residual smoke in her mouth as she spoke. “I think I found the last one we were looking for.”
The other person on the other end of line stayed silent for a minute, her words taking a while to process, but, when they did, the previous exhaustion was replaced with giddy excitement. “Wait, really? You’re serious?”
She grinned, knowing how happy both of them were to finally find the last person they’d been searching for, even switching back to her native tongue in her zeal. “ He’s a real interesting one, that kid. I’m sure you’ll like him a lot. ”
Her companion guffawed loudly, voice dripping with mirth as he spoke. “Well, then. I guess I’ll have to come see him for myself, then, now won’t I?”
Humming in agreement, she glanced once she noticed the team of the person she was talking about leaving the stadium slowly, every one of them looking contemplative as they passed her. “ You’d best hurry up, before someone else comes and snatches him up. Though, from what I’ve gathered, that might not be too big of an issue at the moment. ”
“If he caught your eye, I’m sure he’s practically overflowing with talent—though, if what you’re saying on both accounts is true, then everyone else must have shit in their eyes or something.”
Hearing that, she couldn’t help but snort. “And you tell me to watch my language.”
“Hey, hey, I at least got to keep up appearances, alright? I’ll be there soon, wait for me, ‘kay?”
“Ha. Hurry up, old man. Make sure you don’t break any more bones when you get out of bed.” Hanging up before the other could yell at her, her gaze flickered over to the young boy whose head was down, face hidden behind his bangs as he followed his team to their bus.
A smile pulled at her lips and she took another drag of her cigarette, watching as the team piled into the vehicle before driving off, excitement thrumming in her veins as she reminisced about the game she’d just watched.
Sawamura Eijun, huh… Well, young man. I hope you don’t disappoint me.
-
Eijun ran across the empty field, the rope around his waist pulling at him roughly as the tire on the other end did its best to hold him back, though it was getting smoother and smoother over the year and bit, reminding him he should probably replace it at some point.
It was the day after the game with Ichidaisan High, and he couldn’t get all the things said and done during it out of his head, his thoughts swimming with doubts and self-blame.
One thing, in particular, haunted him the most, making him unable to sleep as he tossed and turned in bed, those simple words haunting him as he tried to sleep.
“You saved me. Sorry. Good job shutting them down.”
In any other context, those words probably wouldn’t have bothered him as much.
Nine simple words, ones of an apology, no malice to be heard, and yet… and yet…
They mocked him. Taunted him. Told him that his contributions were only a means to an end.
You saved me.
You saved me .
What did Boss have to do with it?
Was it a pride thing? Was that it?
Was Eijun’s worth simply on whether or not he could keep Boss’, keep Kataoka’s, pride intact and unwounded?
Not only that, but was it so surprising that he got the remaining batters out, that he did his job like he was meant to, that everyone, absolutely everyone, had been utterly shocked and surprised by it?
Sure, Eijun wasn’t like Furuya—he couldn’t throw a pitch that sounded like a roaring car engine just went off, but he always did his job. After he’d gotten over his yips, he’d always done his best—he’d gotten consistent strikeouts and played well, really well in the games he was in, in his humble opinion.
So why?
Why was it, when Furuya was clearly having trouble, whether it be because of something physical or mental, that he was allowed to stay in, yet, if it were Eijun, or, hell, even Nori-senpai, they would never, ever have gotten that same treatment.
Actually, maybe Nori-senpai would have. He was a reliable pitcher, after all. Unlike Eijun.
Sawamura Eijun. The relief pitcher in the same year as Furuya Satoru. A person who made a mockery of himself by falling flat on his face at Koshien, who was loud and obnoxious and unreliable.
I mean, he must be, right? At every important moment, Eijun always found some way to screw up.
The finals against Inashiro.
The trip up at Koshien.
And, now… His inability to score anything back at the semifinals against Ichidaisan.
Sure, he held them off, but what good was that when he couldn’t even turn the game around to score afterward?
His mind in turmoil, Eijun stopped running, sweat dripping down his face as he clothes clung to him uncomfortably, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath, wiping at his mouth as the taste of salt hit his tongue.
It was fairly quiet, with everyone else off doing their own practice, leaving Eijun on his own as he ran, now standing there as he debated on whether he should keep running or ask someone to help practice his pitches.
Too absorbed in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice a pair of people approaching him until he heard someone clearing their throat, making him jump as he whirled around, blinking up at the two people behind him owlishly.
To his left was a woman of immeasurable beauty, shining red hair glimmering in the afternoon light, bright green eyes staring at him in amusement, the beauty mark on the corner of her lip lifting up as she grinned slightly.
On the left was an exceedingly handsome man, with jet black hair pulled into a low ponytail and light gray eyes staring at him intently.
Both were dressed in fancy suits, each one complementing their figures greatly, though Eijun couldn’t recognize them from anywhere, much less any place at this school.
“Pardon us. Are you Sawamura Eijun?” The man asked, snapping the brunette from his daze.
“Huh? Oh, uh, yes, sir!” He replied, nodding slightly.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sakai Akihito, and this is Annabeth Hart. We’re from the National Youth Prodigy Baseball team.” He said, pulling out a small business card and handing it to the young boy.
Eijun blinked, taking it hesitantly, racking his brain for any information on said team. “National Youth Prodigy Baseball team…? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that…”
“I’m not surprised you haven’t. It’s something that only came into being last year, after all.” The woman, Hart, he believed, said lightly, smiling at him.
“O-Oh.”
“Ahem.” Sakai cleared his throat, getting the boy’s attention once more. “As Anna said, we’re a relatively new team and program meant to scout out and train those we believe to have a large amount of potential that is either not being utilized properly or is underused in their current environment.”
Now that caught Eijun off guard because what. What was this guy talking about?
Sensing his confusion, Hart let out a small laugh, folding her arms in front of her chest as she adjusted her stance slightly. “What this idiot is trying to say is that we’re here to recruit you to join the team, Sawamura.”
He blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then…
“What?”
“I understand this must seem confusing.” Sakai told him, shooting his companion a quick glare as she just shrugged at him nonchalantly, giving him a sly grin as he rolled his eyes. “But we promise you we’re not here to scam you or anything. We have seen your performance at the semifinals against Ichidaisan and wish to work with you in order to help you grow and bring out your full potential.”
Okay, they must be messing with him. Surely they’re joking with him, right? There’s no way they saw that last game and thought to themselves, yes, he’s the one we’re looking for, right?
… right?
“I’m… flattered.” He began slowly, looking between the two of them hesitantly. “But, even if I wanted to accept, I still have practice and such with the team…”
“Ah, that’s no problem.” Hart told him, waving his concerns off. “We practice exclusively on Saturdays, so you wouldn’t be missing much, and even then missing one or two days is completely fine, seeing as how there are plenty of players who can’t make it to every practice for one reason or another.”
In all honesty, the offer was tempting.
To be able to practice with others from, presumably, all over the nation would be really, really interesting, and Eijun was sure he’d be able to pick up a thing or two from watching how everyone else played.
However, he was still torn, unsure on whether or not he should accept or not.
“Can I…” He paused, glancing between the card and them. “Can I have some time to think about it?”
“But of course.” Sakai nodded, giving him a gentle smile. “Take your time. While we would prefer if you could answer before Saturday, as there are some things we need to go over and some paperwork to do before the actual practice can begin, but we’ll wait until next Saturday if necessary.”
“Make sure you think real hard about this, kid.” Hart told him, giving him a knowing look. “I don’t mean to pressure you, but this is an opportunity you only get once in a lifetime. I hope that, whatever choice you make, you don’t end up regretting it.”
Eijun nodded numbly and, with that, they left, leaving the brunette alone once more, but this time even more confused than ever, though perhaps that was better than stewing in his previous thoughts.
Shaking his head, he slipped the card into his pocket and promptly made his way over to some of the others who were outside practicing their batting, wanting to do something, anything, to get his mind off of what just happened.
Making casual small talk before picking up a bat, Eijun began to swing it, letting the rhythmic motion calm his raging thoughts and emotions.
He’ll think about it later. For now, all he wanted was some time of peace and quiet.
-
“Hey, Mochi-senpai.” Eijun began, stuffing rice into his mouth, his older roommate raising an eyebrow in question at him. Swallowing his food, he asked, “do you know who Sakai Akihito is?”
At his question, the entire room went silent, and Eijun paused his eating, looking around, confused.
“What?”
Seto was looking at him as if he couldn’t believe the brunette was being serious. “Are you serious, Sawamura-senpai?”
“Huh? What’re you talking about?”
Kuramochi slammed his head against the table, startling the southpaw, who looked at him in bewilderment as the older teen groaned, loudly. “Of course the idiot wouldn’t know who Sakai Akihito is!”
Eijun frowned, not understanding what was going on. “I don’t get it—is he famous or something?”
“Is he famous— of course he’s famous, Bakamura!” Kuramochi snapped, slapping his across the back of the head.
“Ow! What was that for?!”
“Oi, oi, let off of him, Kuramochi.” Miyuki chimed in, waving their antics off. “With an idiot like him who didn’t even know signs when he first came here, it shouldn’t be that surprising that he doesn’t know who Sakai-san is.”
“Well, I would know if someone told me!” The brunette snapped, glaring at the bespectacled teen who snickered at his frustration.
“Where did this even come from, in the first place?” Kuramochi asked.
“I—”
“Eijun-kun.” Haruichi called out to him, the golden-eyed youth turning towards him as his friend smiled at him gently. “Sakai Akihito is a famous baseball player who turned down numerous offers from professional baseball teams in order to coach younger players.”
Eijun blinked. “Alright? So what was so special about him?”
“‘What was so special about him’, he says,” Kuramochi mocked him, ignoring his roommate’s glare as he rolled his eyes. “Well, how about the fact he’s considered one of the best pitchers in the world.”
“Wait, really?” Now that caught the teen off guard—someone like that wanted to train him? What? Was this some sort of twisted reality tv show where it turned out this was all just some huge prank or something? Wait, now that he thought about it… “Then, what about Annabeth Hart?”
“Ha? Don’t tell me you don’t know about her, too!” Kuramochi accused, and all Eijun could do was blink at him dumbly, effectively answering him right then and there.
Asada stared at his senpai in a mixture of fear and awe, clearly in disbelief at what was going on. “I-It’s kind of impressive that you don’t know who those people are, senpai…”
“Annabeth Hart is an infamous coach with a hellish training style, but she’s known to get very, very good results, so she has people from all over the world lining up to try and get her to train them.” Haruichi informs the ignorant brunette, who looked completely taken aback by all the newly acquired information.
“Where is all of this even coming from?” Kuramochi asked once more, jabbing the younger boy in the side. “This, quite literally, came out of nowhere! Suddenly got enlightened or something?”
Eijun was too busy trying to wrap his head around what he’d just heard to answer, unresponsive to anyone’s questioning and eventually they all stopped bothering him, though there were still a few glances in his direction here and there.
Dinner finished like that, and Eijun was now laying in bed, wondering if this was all some sort of elaborate dream because there was absolutely no way in hell anything that’d happened today was real.
However, as he stared at the card in his hand, it was hard to ignore the fact that, no, this was very much real, and that two apparently very famous and important people in the baseball world came here to scout for him.
Not Furuya, not even Miyuki, but him.
Are they serious? He thought to himself, thumbing over the bold words on the small slip of paper. This isn’t just some elaborate hoax where they were just messing with me to get a funny reaction for some reality show, right?
That night, he once again found it hard to sleep. But, at least, this time, his mind wasn’t haunted by a certain game he’d much rather forget.
I’ll think about it more tomorrow. He told himself, closing his eyes as he buried himself in his sheets, wrapping his blanket around himself tightly. They told me I could wait until next Saturday to answer if I needed to, so I’ll just take my time. There’s no rush, after all.
And with that, he slowly drifted off to sleep, unsure of what was yet to come.