As soon as Takasugi Masahiro opened his eyes, he saw Mihori Yuusuke already fully dressed, standing silently at the foot of his bed—as if he were attending a farewell ceremony for the deceased.
He was instantly infuriated: "Early in the morning, you don’t rest and pull this kind of stunt. What’s the meaning of this?"
Mihori Yuusuke didn’t directly answer the question. Instead, he enthusiastically shouted at him: "Masahiro, let’s go train!"
Upon hearing this, Takasugi Masahiro looked incredulously at his teammate—just for a moment, he wondered if Mihori Yuusuke standing before him had been possessed by someone else.
After all, having played as pitcher and catcher with Mihori Yuusuke for three years, Takasugi Masahiro knew exactly what kind of person his teammate was: Mihori Yuusuke had never been the poster child for hard training; rather, sneaking off and slacking off during practice was more his style—his place as the starting pitcher for East Asia Academy, a near-powerhouse team, was thanks to his talent, not through the so-called "hard work bridging gaps."
So he frowned and asked his pitcher partner, "But after the match yesterday, didn’t Coach Ueda announce a break for this morning?"
After the fifth round of the West Tokyo Conference, on the bus ride back to school, East Asia Academy’s coach Ueda Shigeru announced a half-day team break—although the match against Engineering College was not very exhausting, East Asia Academy, having played a day later, only had one day of rest before facing Waseda Industries in the quarterfinals—giving a half-day off to relieve the fatigue from the tight schedule, then regroup in the afternoon for training, wouldn’t affect the team’s schedule planning.
Mihori Yuusuke nodded: "Yes, the coach gave us half a day off."
"Then why are you getting up early to train?" Takasugi Masahiro, even more puzzled by his answer, sat up straight in bed: "You usually aren’t this diligent in practice?"
"Besides," Takasugi Masahiro tried to mimic his partner’s voice, "I’m a genius, geniuses don’t need to train so hard. During breaks, we should rest well, or where’d we get the strength to pitch during matches? —These are the words you love to say whenever you want to slack off."
Mihori Yuusuke chuckled at his teammate mimicking him: "Haha, that’s right during normal times! But isn’t now a special situation?"
Afterward, Mihori Yuusuke’s amused expression faded, and he spoke seriously: "Masahiro, let me ask you, when was the last time our East Asia Academy made it to Koshien?"
"1989, Heisei year one." Takasugi Masahiro blurted out.
Mihori Yuusuke nodded: "Right, Masahiro, the last time East Asia Academy made it to Koshien was Heisei year one. We haven’t been to Koshien for 22 years now—those old alumni who experienced it back then must be middle-aged men by now?"
"As for me, although I can be lazy sometimes, I don’t want to regret later as a hefty old man for not working harder when I had the chance."
Gazing directly at Takasugi Masahiro sitting on the bed, Mihori Yuusuke declared:
"So, this year we must go to Koshien—Masahiro, you think the same way, don’t you?"
After saying that, he reached out his hand toward Takasugi Masahiro.
Takasugi Masahiro chuckled, then extended his hand to Mihori Yuusuke:
Upon arriving at the baseball training ground, Mihori Yuusuke and Takasugi Masahiro found that a small group had already gathered—looking from afar, it seemed the team’s infielders were practicing with the coaching staff.
As the two entered the field hand in hand, the players training inside all widened their eyes in surprise at Mihori Yuusuke, as if witnessing a rare animal.
"No, are you really that shocked that I came for extra practice? What image do you have of me in your minds?" Mihori Yuusuke asked in irritation, facing his teammates’ scrutinizing gazes.
Recognizing his exaggerated expression, the team’s shortstop Kobayashi scratched his head and chuckled, "It’s not that we underestimate you, Yuusuke, it’s just having played with you for three years, it’s the first time we see you doing extra practice. We just think the sun’s risen from the west."
Mihori Yuusuke snorted, then replied, "That’s because I’m a genius, geniuses don’t need such intense training."
"Why are you thinking of extra practice on the field today?" Inquired Watanabe, the second baseman, standing by.
"That’s because we’re getting ready to play against Waseda soon—there’s a very talented first-year who joined them this year," Mihori Yuusuke paused, "Of course, no matter how formidable, they’re not stronger than me."
"Besides, don’t you all want to go to Koshien?"
In front of his teammates, Mihori Yuusuke repeated the words he said to Takasugi Masahiro earlier, sparking a strong resonance among his teammates.
Motivated by these words, the infielders raised their hands one by one, shouting loudly: "Osu—this year we must go to Koshien! Whether it’s Waseda or Nihon University, bring them on!"
Five minutes later, when the late-coming outfielders stared in surprise at Mihori Yuusuke at the mound in the central field, he had no choice but to repeat his earlier words.
"Osu—must go to Koshien!!!" The boys’ cries once again echoed through the training ground.
In the afternoon, at East Asia Academy’s training ground, the team engaged in routine training.
"Quick, quick, quick, move faster!"
"Complete the ground ball fielding action in the infield!"
"While running the bases, don’t look around, just sprint full-on!"
Takasugi Masahiro, squatting behind home plate, was focused on analyzing the field’s situation, constantly reminding his teammates of various things to watch out for.
"Someone’s stealing a base!!!" Kobayashi, the shortstop, noticed the base runner starting early and quickly alerted his teammates.
"I got it!!!" Takasugi Masahiro, catching the baseball thrown by the pitcher, shouted, "Swish" tossing his catcher’s mask away, swiftly stepped forward, with a smooth swing and threw the baseball towards second base.
The ball flew like a cannonball from his hands towards second base—a throw that, no matter how it’s judged, was nothing short of perfect—without needing any adjustments, the ball soared into shortstop Kobayashi’s mitt; he promptly pushed the glove with the ball toward the runner beneath him.
Watching from the field’s edge, Coach Ueda Shigeru nodded, clearly very pleased with the team’s current condition—especially first catcher Takasugi Masahiro, whose performance was outstanding but more importantly, extremely stable, almost never committing errors.
The catcher, often overlooked by many spectators in baseball, actually holds a significant place in the team—a good catcher can effortlessly control the pace of the entire game and lead the team to victory.
As a baseball coach with over twenty years of high school experience, Ueda Shigeru’s baseball philosophy is "defense decides everything"—the so-called "a thousand-foot building starts from the ground," solid defense is the building’s foundation; with the foundation laid, the team can continually advance and become a formidable force.
After three years of honing, with solid defense as the base, the strong catcher Takasugi Masahiro as the core, supplemented by Mihori Yuusuke’s gifted arm—this year’s East Asia Academy, in Ueda Shigeru’s view, is definitely a force to be reckoned with in the West Tokyo Conference.
They are ready to give Waseda Industries a run for their money.