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The sight of his fellow first years joining the first string practice while he was relegated to doing basic training on Field B made Toujou’s entire skin itch with irritation. Not with them; they deserved to be on that field. He was annoyed with himself.
Spending all of seniors as the biggest fish in a small pond had made him complacent. Toujou had always disliked people like that, and hated that he had fallen into that trap even more. The worst part was that it put him behind already, and he had just barely arrived at Seidou. People who fell behind here did not usually catch up.
Later that night, Toujou hauled a crate of balls out to the field and loaded up the pitching machine in the batting cage. One after another, he relished the vibration of the bat striking the ball before launching it into the netting. He was almost through an entire crate’s worth of balls before he noticed someone was watching him.
Toujou powered down the machine and leaned against the fence, where Kominato Haruichi watched him carefully. “Were you waiting on the machine?”
Kominato shook his head. “No. I just heard it going and wondered who was out this late. I thought Eijun-kun finally realized his batting is terrible.”
Recalling his fellow first year pitcher’s comically abominable batting skill, Toujou wanted to laugh but couldn’t. Toujou knew he was a good batter and a good pitcher, but even that wasn’t enough to earn him a spot on the first string lineup. He had a lot of work to do, and it would take a lot more than a crate of balls to get there.
He nearly dropped his bat when Kominato said, “You’re an excellent batter, Toujou-kun.”
“What?” Toujou gaped at the first year whose batting outstripped a bulk of their teammates, first string or no. “I’m okay, I guess.”
Kominato reached through the fence and poked Toujou in the arm. “You’re better than okay. You’re fast, and your long throw is great. Have you considered playing another position while you work on your pitching? You would be an excellent center-fielder.”
“Like Jun-san?”
“Like Jun-san.” Kominato opened the door to the cage and picked up a few stray balls. “Get noticed, and when Kantoku sees how useful you are, you can go as far as you’d like.”
Toujou frowned. “But Jun-san isn’t a pitcher anymore. I love being a pitcher. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
With a sly smile, Kominato tossed a ball to Toujou, who snared it out of the air on reflex alone. “You’ll always be a pitcher, Toujou-kun. Furuya-kun plays left field when he’s relieved, and nobody thinks he’s not a pitcher when he does that.”
Eyes wide, it dawned on Toujou that Kominato was right. He would never stop pitching, no matter where he was on the field. Skill came from experience, which he would never get spinning his wheels in frustration. There were two roads ahead of him, and for the first time since that awful game against the upperclassmen, he knew that both of those roads moved him forward and didn’t have to diverge in opposite directions.
“I’ll do it.” Toujou started cleaning up the balls in the batting cage with Kominato’s help, and when they were returned to the equipment shed, they both meandered back in the direction of the dorms side by side.
Toujou bought a couple of iced teas, and they sat on the steps in companionable silence. Kominato truly was the boy who saw everything on the field — even a struggling pitcher who couldn’t crack a lineup. Seidou needed a guy like Kominato, and Toujou would be damned if he wouldn’t make it need him, too.
The next day, Toujou’s energy was through the roof. During batting practice, he sent the ball flying deep in the outfield time after time and kept his movements sharp and compact during fielding drills. He could feel Kantoku’s eyes on him, but he no longer felt like a bug in a jar.
Instead, he was freed.
It didn’t take more than a few weeks before he found himself in Kantoku’s office, standing in front of the entire coaching staff with his back straight and his head up. There were only a few reasons for him to be there, but he was glad for the chance at being noticed.
The offer came, just as Kominato had said, to play center field when the third years retired, and Toujou accepted. He had mixed feelings about not pitching, but as Kominato had also reminded him, he wouldn’t stop being a pitcher no matter where he played.
Outside the office, Toujou wasn’t too surprised to find Kominato waiting for him, and when Toujou gave a tentative thumbs up, he received a grin in response. “I look forward to playing with you in the fall, Toujou-kun.”
“Yeah,” Toujou breathed, more excited than he thought he’d be. “Me, too.”