Kenji Takahashi sat silently on the bench as the rest of the first-years took their turns in the batter's box.
No one could ignore him now.
One swing. One home run. One statement.
The coaches had written his name down instantly. Whispers echoed through the field like wildfire. Most of the other rookies looked at him with awe or unease. A few glared with barely hidden jealousy.
Kenji didn't care.
His eyes weren't on them.
They were locked on the Seidou main field.
The real battlefield.
He could see the upperclassmen training there—Furuya's explosive throws, Sawamura's awkward mechanics, Miyuki's sharp commands. They looked the same as the anime, but somehow more real. More dangerous. More alive.
Kenji could feel it.
This world wasn't just fiction anymore.
It was his life now.
And he had no intention of playing second string.
"Next group! Batting drills — live pitching!"
The coach's shout snapped him back.
Kenji was placed in the second group facing a real pitcher: a second-year lefty known for decent control and movement. Nothing elite, but enough to test timing and reaction.
One by one, the rookies stepped in.
Strikeout. Groundout. Pop fly.
Then came Kenji's turn.
The pitcher narrowed his eyes, recognizing him.
"Let's see if that home run was a fluke."
First pitch came in — a fastball on the outside edge.
Kenji saw it the moment it left the pitcher's fingers.
The rotation. The spin. The arc.
To everyone else, it was a blur.
To Kenji, it was slow motion.
He didn't swing.
The ball landed in the catcher's mitt with a loud pop.
"Strike one!"
Kenji's lips twitched into a faint smile.
That wasn't his pitch.
Second ball — a low curve, breaking late.
Kenji adjusted his stance a fraction, letting it pass.
"Ball one!"
Murmurs rose again. The coaches exchanged glances.
"He's reading the ball..."
"No way a first-year tracks that spin."
Third pitch — inside fastball.
Kenji moved.
CRACK!
The sound was different this time.
The ball shot off the bat like a bullet, screaming past the shortstop and slamming into the outfield fence before bouncing back.
Everyone froze.
That wasn't just timing.
That was control.
As Kenji stepped back from the plate, he met eyes with one of the catchers.
A sharp stare. Half-amused, half-cautious.
Miyuki Kazuya.
The third-year captain had wandered over, pretending to just be observing.
But he'd seen enough.
"That kid doesn't just swing. He calculates."
He turned to Coach Kataoka.
"Let me catch for him next round."
The coach raised an eyebrow but nodded.
"Fine. Let's see what happens."
Kenji heard the exchange.
He smiled quietly.
"So you're testing me already, Miyuki?"
He picked up his bat again, walking toward the plate.
His perfect eyes locked onto the best catcher in the school.
"Good."
"Let's see how Seidou's ace handles someone like me."