Chapter Text
On his fifth birthday in the summer of 2001, Sawamura Eijun received a copy of Power Pros 4 for the Nintendo 64. His parents had no idea it would change the trajectory of his life.
Eijun was absolutely hooked. He played the game obsessively, trying to get his timing down for batting and pitching. He found the game incredibly cool and played it all of the time. It kept his 5-year-old brain occupied like no other activity.
This event marked the start of Sawamura Eijun’s love for baseball.
When Eijun entered 1st grade, he joined a local baseball club. When Eijun invited his friends to join him, they happily obliged him, deciding that it would be a fun activity that they could all participate in together.
Together, they learned how to catch, how to keep their eyes on the ball, all of the basic principles. They learned to bunt, too. That was one aspect of baseball that Eijun picked up fairly quickly.
“Ei-chan,” Nobu called out to him. “That bunt was, like, perfect!”
“It’s not that impressive.” Eijun didn’t get the purpose of bunting, he’d rather hit a big one any day than bunt. Hitting home runs was much more impressive to him.
In between practices, Wakana, Nobu, and the rest of Eijun’s friend group (people seemed to love Eijun wherever he went) would play catch and hit off tees in his backyard.
Eijun learns, later, that pitchers get lots of attention on the mound. He heard older players talk about the thrill of striking out opponents. Then, he saw it for himself in a game. The sound of the ball hitting the mitt sounded different that day. He decided right then and there that he would be a pitcher. His ball moved without any explanation, making it hard for batters to hit.
He trained his pitches, he trained batting, he trained fielding, and he excelled at all of it. With his flexible joints and strong shoulder, he was cultivated as a pitcher that would subdue all batters, striking them out with little difficulty, especially at the little league level where children were still learning not to be afraid of the ball. He honed his control into a finely tuned weapon. Being a southpaw was another advantage.
“Man, when that kid gets to middle school, he’s gonna be a beast,” people would say.
“The kid’s got quite an arm for sure. He’ll go far,” other would say, seeing the raw potential in the kid.
When they became older, the friend group all went to Akagi Junior High and joined the baseball team.
They trained diligently to improve their craft, having already learned the basics in primary school.
Eijun’s ball control continued to get better, his batting skills improving as well under the tutelage of Tanaka Kantoku. He still used his “moving fastball” as it had been dubbed, but he developed other weapons to use against batters.
“They can hit it if they know what’s coming, after all!” he stated during practice, hands on his hips.
During a practice game, their regular catcher injured his wrist, an injury that would keep him from catching for the foreseeable future.
The team was at a loss. You need a dedicated catcher to have a successful team, and suddenly, they were left without one. Nobody on the team had played catcher before. Nobody wanted it.
Their coach, Tanaka, encouraged Eijun to be a catcher due to his talent for the game and observation skills as well as his ability to motivate other players. Tanaka saw potential in him. Other players loved the glory, loved being seen, but Sawamura was here for the love of the game.
Tanaka approached him with the idea later in time.
“I want to be a pitcher, though," Eijun objected.
“I know you want to be a pitcher, and you can still practice pitching, but this team won’t go very far without a dedicated catcher. I think you would be perfect for the role. Maybe it would teach you how to be a better pitcher, too.”
“...Can I… think about it?” Sure, catchers are important leaders on the field, but it wasn’t the job Eijun wanted.
“Sure, kid.”
Eijun pondered on the decision for several days, ultimately deciding to become a catcher. Kantoku is right, he thought. If I don’t become a catcher, who will? Plus, he said I could still pitch. When we go to high school, I can be a pitcher again.
“Kantoku!” At the start of the next practice, Sawamura approached his coach. “I’ll be a catcher!”
More often than not, Sawamura Eijun and his friends could be found playing catch in the backyard, practicing hitting balls, or, most commonly, throwing balls for Eijun to catch.
After every practice, Eijun’s knees would complain. His thighs would burn from transitioning from the crouching to the standing position again and again and again.
He adjusted, trying to do right by his teammates.
The frustration came. Catching real pitches was way harder than catching simple tosses. It took weeks of dedicated repetition to be able to see the ball clearly, to train his eye and hand to keep up with the ball.
He adjusted eventually, getting the hang of simple fastballs, able to throw to base right after for pickoffs.
He learned the value of game-calling, of being able to read batters. Over the course of two years, he became an excellent catcher, being able to guide pitchers and make plays, shutting down opponents. His teammates grew too, under Tanaka’s tutelage. They learned how to field, fumbling balls less and less as time went on. They became a respectable underdog team.
It was the bottom of the ninth. The score was 3-4 in Akagi’s favor. 1 out, runners on 1st and 2nd with a full count. The runner on second had taken a huge lead. Eijun could see the nervousness starting to creep onto Nobu’s face. The pressure from the batter and the runner must be getting to him. Eijun had seen this look before in practice matches; it’s a look that said he’s gonna throw a wild pitch. They couldn’t afford it right now.
Eijun beamed at Nobu from behind the plate, freeing him from his nervous, desperate stupor. Just do your best and focus on the batter, his smile said. He held out his mitt.
Windup, release. The runner on 2nd took off, looking to get a steal.
The ball came roaring towards him. The batter swung, expecting an impact with his bat that never came.
Thwack.
The ball came to rest in Sawamura’s mitt, right where he had positioned it.
“Strike three!”
Sawamura quickly rose from his crouch, switching the ball from his mitt to his hand. “3rd base!” he yelled, sending the ball towards the left side of the field.
The third baseman caught it, foot on base.
All was still for a moment.
“Out! Ball game!”
A cheer rose from the dugout and the crowd. Sawamura basked in it.
They had won. This was not the end of Akagi Junior High this season.
Rei Takishima attended the game on a whim, not expecting to find anything. The fielders on both teams were average at best, the pitching not much better. There was a boy, though, that caught her eye. He led his team as the Captain and the catcher, making plays that wouldn’t be possible without a skilled catcher calling the game.
She was intrigued by him. The kid reminded her of another catcher that she had recruited. She resolved to recruit him for Seido.
“Seido High School?”
“It’s a famous baseball school that has been to Koshien numerous times!” Sawamura Eitoku supplied.
“Is that supposed to be amazing or something?”
Looks of shock could be seen on every face in the room, save Eijun’s. Takishima herself was floored.
“You play baseball, and you’ve never heard of Seido?” Eijun’s grandfather asked him, flabbergasted.
“Not once,” Eijun stated simply.
Sawamura’s grandfather moved to whisper in his ear. “There are tons of professionals on TV who’ve graduated from Seido.”
Eijun giggled, breaking out into his signature beam. “It’s more fun to actually play baseball than to watch it on—”
“Shut your mouth!” Eitoku yelled. Eijun was incapacitated, lying on the floor. Eitoku turned right back around to the table, bowing his head towards Takishima. “Please excuse my grandson’s ignorance.”
Takishima was taken aback. “N-no problem.”
He raised his head. “But why would a famous school from Tokyo come here looking for him?”
“I was present at the game he played the other day…” Takishima began. “...and saw great skill and leadership in him. His ability to lead pitchers and make plays would be a great asset to Seido. I also saw how quickly he could throw to get runners out.”
Sawamura’s family immediately turned to him, wicked grins on every face. “This is your chance, Eijun!” his father said. “Tell her you’ll accept the offer before she changes her mind!” his grandfather continued. His mother declared, “We need to celebrate with a feast tonight!”
Eijun pushed himself up from the floor. “What? Hold on…”
“Do you have something to say?” Eitoku demanded of his idiot grandson.
“I’m gonna go to Tokyo just to play baseball? I don’t want to play in such a stuffy environment.”
“Do you know what you’re saying?”
“Do you have any idea of how amazing this offer is?”
“Seriously! This is your best bet for high school!"
“It’s true that Seido may be a great school, but I’ll be chasing the same dream wherever I go. I’d much rather chase that dream with the teammates I have right now,” Eijun said, rather earnestly, completely in character for him.
Takishima watched the scene unfold before her silently, taken aback by the resoluteness and honesty of the boy before her. “I see,” she said, pushing up her glasses. Eijun looked pleased with himself, sure that he had ended it just then.
“So, when would you like to pay us a visit?”
“Wait…” he objected.
“We’re just going to get busier, so it would be best if you could come as soon as possible.”
Is she even listening to me right now?
“A baseball field is a mirror that reflects the players spirit.” Takishima ignored the looks on the Sawamura Family’s faces as she continued. “It’s the only place you can find the truth, Sawamura-kun.”
“The truth?”
“That game… That final ball you caught… The pitcher was nervous, you could see it. The fortitude you showed from behind the plate was infectious for your teammates. You caught that ball without a hint of doubt in your mind then threw it, ending the game in your favor. It was truly beautiful. Your natural ability to prevent an unfavorable outcome truly showed. You gave the pitcher the strength to be able to take that batter down and you showed that you can make plays in a tight spot.”
“The last ball I caught?” Eijun questioned. All he did, in his mind, was encourage his friends and do his best. Seido wants to recruit him for that?
“I saw the qualities of a great leader and captain in you. Back to the point; you should come see one of our practices. Seido is a great place that can challenge you to become a better player worthy of the national stage, if you truly want to go, that is. You should gain something from seeing a top-level practice.”
Nationals. Is it just me… or is she doubting my junior high team? You’d better be kidding me. Eijun wanted nothing more in that moment than to wipe the stupid smirk off of her face.
“Very well! I’ll take a look at your so-called ‘top level’ school.”
Wakana and the rest of Eijun’s friends show up to his house like clockwork. This was the time that they spent practicing together.
“Eijun’s in Tokyo right now?” Wakana asked.
Eijun’s mother confirmed that Eijun was, in-fact, in Tokyo.
“Oh,” Nobu said, looking dejected. “The airhead would forget to mention something like that,” he said to himself. “Do you when he’ll be back?” he inquired.
“He should be back later tonight. It’s just a day trip.”
“Thank you, Sawamura-san. Can you tell him we stopped by?” Wakana added.
“Yes, when he gets home, I will.”
Eijun was frozen, shocked at the size of the fields, the equipment, the facilities. Damn this rich school and their fancy equipment!
“These are our baseball fields,” Takishima explained, satisfied with herself at her ability to get Sawamura to visit, despite his insistence otherwise. “... and there is an indoor practice area that way. Most of the members live in the dorms.”
Eijun wasn’t listening to her at all. “What is this fancy machine? There’s so much stuff I’ve never seen before!” Rei looked at him, smirking slightly. Eijun turned to her, indignant. “This doesn’t mean I’m coming to this school or anything! I was just caught off guard.”
Sure, you may have been, but I’ll convince you to join us soon enough, Takishima thought. “Is that so?”
“You don’t even need all of this fancy equipment to play baseball, anyway. You gather the best players from around the nation. No wonder you’re good. I’d hate to lose to a top tier team that’s given all that they want.”
Rei chuckled to herself, pushing her glasses up.
“I won’t deny that. Half of our team members are from outside the prefecture. They’re here to play baseball abroad, so to speak.”
So you do gather the good players.
“However, this is the age where Japanese high school baseball is known to be the best in the world. Scouts come from the major league to invite players to their teams. ‘I want to be the best player ever.’ 15 year old boys leave their homes to hone their abilities, chasing a dream. I respect all players who have that determination and aspiration,” Rei finished.
Determination. Sawamura glanced at the field at the player pushing themselves to their absolute limits in hopes of being the best. He saw the resoluteness in their faces as they practiced. She’s right. I can sense it in the air.
“Are you kidding me, Kawakami?” A jeering voice cut through the air, breaking Sawamura out of his focused stupor. Sawamura turned to face the voice. “You throw like a girl! How about you try pitching with some feeling.”
“Who is this kid, challenging Azuma like that?”
“He’s gonna get himself hurt.”
“Azuma’s been trying to lose that weight for a while, too.”
Rei was shocked at Sawamura’s audacity. “Sawamura, apologize right now.”
Sawamura’s demeanor was icy, vastly different from the bright kid behind the plate that Rei had seen when she vowed to scout him for Sedio.
Several players tried to hold Azuma back, fearing for the bold kid who seemed to have a death wish.
“Maybe everyone here has aspirations, but being better doesn’t give you the right to treat other people like trash,” Sawamura said, coldly. “He made fun of his pitches and told him to go home. Even if nobody else does anything about it, I can’t let that slide.” It hit especially close to Sawamura’s heart, as pitcher was his true preferred position. Kawakami reminded him of himself. “You can’t play baseball by yourself.”
Sawamura faced Azume, yelling. “Did this school not teach you that baseball is a team sport?” Azuma glowered down at Sawamura, but the kid held his ground.
None of the Seido players agreed with what Azuma was doing, but nobody could find it in themselves to make any effort to get him to stop terrorizing younger players.
Kawakami looked on from his spot, confused. Why is this kid defending me? He doesn’t know me; why does he care? Where did he get the guts to confront Azuma like that?
A thought dawned on Rei. Sawamura is very protective and supportive of his teammates, it shouldn’t be any surprise that he’s defending Kawakami. He cherished his teammates. Rei quickly approached Azuma. “Sorry, Azuma-kun. He just came out of the countryside and he’s clueless about the real world.”
Ouch, Sawamura thought.
“He’s a catcher. Do you mind showing him what batting at the high school level is all about?”
…What?
“Sure. I’ll show him.” Azuma glowered down at him once more. “That won’t stop me from destroying both him and Kawakami. By the end of it, they’ll both be begging for mercy.”
Miyuki Kazuya watched from his spot along the fence at the events unfolding before him, laughing his twisted laugh to himself. The kid has guts.
Sawamura stared up at Azuma for a beat.
“Wait… I never asked to have a match with a jerk like him.”
“Sawamura.” Takishima’s immediate reply stunned him. “This is a baseball field. If you have anything to say, say it through baseball.”
What an odd thing to say.
“Now, go get changed.”
“Rei-chan, this looks like a lot of fun. Can I show him where the spare uniforms are?” Miyuki asked from his spot against the fence.
Who is this smug looking bastard? “Who is he?” Sawamura asked of Rei, still looking at Miyuki.
“Miyuki Kazuya. He’s a catcher, too.”