Chapter Text
It was last summer.
The stifling heat of the Nagano mountains seemed to gather inside the old wooden house belonging to Sawamura's grandfather. The incessant chirping of cicadas in the garden mingled with the trembling, mechanical hum of an old paint-peeled electric fan. Yet all those sounds were completely swallowed up by the boisterous roaring coming from the 14-inch CRT TV sitting in the corner of the room.
The TV screen vibrated violently with every stride of the players.
"The Summer Koshien Quarterfinals! The scoreboard is paused at the bottom of the 9th inning, two outs, runner on third! Standing on the mound right now... is none other than the first-year rookie from the reigning West Tokyo champions, Inashiro Industrial—Narumiya Mei!"
The commentator's voice crackled through the static-heavy speaker, breathless with excitement.
Narumiya Mei's forehead was dripping with sweat, his pale blonde hair sticking to his temples. He smirked, gently blowing away a stray strand of hair falling over his eyes, which glinted with a chillingly arrogant light. He twisted his body and whipped his left arm forward with a fluid, whip-like rhythm.
The ball tore through the air. The batter on the other side swung with all his power, but just before the bat could make contact, the ball suddenly seemed to "stop" mid-air before plunging straight down.
Thwack!
The ball settled firmly inside the catcher's mitt.
"STRIKE THREE! OUT! A magnificent changeup! Narumiya Mei closes out the game with a picture-perfect strikeout! Inashiro Industrial advances straight to the semifinals!"
The stands of Hanshin Koshien exploded into a roaring wave of cheers.
"That was... that was insane..."
Sawamura Eijun was kneeling on the tatami mat, clutching his throw pillow tightly. His round eyes were wide open, as if he had forgotten how to blink. He pressed his face so close to the TV screen that his breath fogged up a patch of the glass.
"Grandpa! Did you see that?! He’s a southpaw too! And he's just a first-year!" Eijun spun around, jumping up and down like an overly excited puppy. "That was so cool! What kind of pitch was that just now?!"
Grandpa Tokushima sat by the tea table, slowly sipping his hot green tea while squinting with a gentle smile.
"I saw it, I saw it. That kid throws a sharp ball. His left arm is as flexible as a snapping whip."
"It's way more than just sharp, Grandpa!" Eijun balled his hands into tight fists, turning back to stare at the screen.
On the Koshien field, Narumiya Mei pulled off his visor cap and raised his hand high to greet the crowd. He pouted slightly before breaking into an immensely haughty grin, thoroughly basking in the adoration of tens of thousands of fans. That brazen self-confidence, combined with his overwhelming dominance on the mound, exerted a magnetic pull that made it impossible for anyone to look away.
The local kids gathered around couldn't stop gasping in admiration either.
"I heard he's the number one prodigy in Tokyo right now."
"He's only a first-year and he's already wearing the number 1 jersey for an elite powerhouse like Inashiro..."
"He really lives in a different world. Kids like us couldn't even dream of reaching that level."
Hearing that, Eijun puffed out his cheeks, placed his hands on his hips, and stuck his nose high in the air.
"What's that supposed to mean?! We're all human beings with two arms and two legs! So what if he's a genius?!"
"Oh? So you're planning on surpassing him, dummy?" one of his friends smirked, teasing him.
"Of course!" Eijun declared loudly, his voice echoing through the small room. "If we're both southpaws... then one day, I'm going to stand on that massive Koshien stage too! I'll throw pitches ten times cooler than his! I am definitely going to surpass Narumiya Mei!"
His group of friends burst out laughing at Eijun's usual hot-headed bravado. Meanwhile, Eijun kept his eyes locked on the number 1 on Mei's back on the TV screen. To the fifteen-year-old boy back then, Narumiya Mei felt like a towering mountain peak shrouded in white clouds—brilliant, distant, and seemingly reachable only through a screen.
Eijun whispered softly to himself, his eyes twinkling with the reflection of the TV light.
"I wonder... what kind of guy is he in real life?"
At that moment, Eijun had no idea.
Just a few months later, his baseball journey would take a dramatic turn. He would leave his tiny village in Nagano behind, carrying his naive dream to dive headfirst into the prestigious training grounds of Seidou.
Nor could he have guessed that, through sheer, reckless effort and raw instinct, he would fight his way through a brutal intra-squad game to claim the number 20 jersey—officially earning his spot on Seidou's First Team in the spring of his first year.
And most importantly of all... that proud ace he had once looked up to through an old television screen... would very soon walk right out of that screen and stand face-to-face with him.