Chapter 9: Advanced Drills and the Psychological Edge

The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the gymnasium at Hikari Gakuen Elementary, casting long shadows across the polished floor.

The familiar scent of wood and sweat filled the air as Toujou Hideaki stood on the pitcher's mound, now familiar and comfortable in his stance.

His body had become accustomed to the daily drills, but today, Coach Ichiro Tachibana had something different in mind.

"Alright, Hideaki, we're going to kick things up a notch," Ichiro said, his voice steady as he approached the mound, a bucket of baseballs in hand. "We've worked on your speed and control—now it's time to build your stamina and reaction time. I'm going to introduce some advanced drills."

Toujou nodded, feeling the familiar thrill of anticipation that always accompanied a new challenge. He had been steadily improving, but he knew that this next step would be even more demanding.

As Coach Ichiro set the bucket of baseballs down beside him, Toujou heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Ryoma Tachibana appeared at the edge of the gym, his signature cap tilted back slightly, a grin spreading across his face.

"Mind if I join in?" Ryoma asked, his voice filled with energy. His presence, always brash and confident, was a welcome addition to the training.

Ichiro glanced at Ryoma and then nodded. "Sure, it'll be good for Hideaki to get used to working with you in drills. You two need to form a solid battery."

Toujou couldn't help but smile at the thought. The two of them, a pitcher and his catcher—he had grown comfortable with Ryoma's presence, even if their personalities were starkly different.

Ryoma's outgoing nature balanced Toujou's more reserved demeanor, and their unspoken understanding had made them an effective team, even without much formal practice.

"I'm ready when you are, Hideaki," Ryoma said with a confident wink, already taking position behind the mound.

Toujou nodded, refocusing on the task at hand. The drill was simple in concept but required sharp reflexes.

Coach Ichiro called out directions, and Toujou had to throw to different parts of the strike zone with precision, but now there was an added element—Ryoma would be catching each ball.

"Left!" Ichiro commanded.

Without hesitation, Toujou whipped his body to the side, releasing the ball with a clean motion. Ryoma crouched low, his glove snapping shut as the ball hit the target with a satisfying thud.

"Right!" Ichiro shouted.

Toujou shifted his weight, spinning toward the right and throwing the ball with speed. Ryoma darted to the side, extending his arm just in time to catch the ball as it sped toward him.

"Center!" Ichiro called.

Toujou threw straight down the middle, a fluid, powerful pitch that landed squarely in Ryoma's glove. This time, Ryoma didn't need to move—he just caught it effortlessly, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of the challenge.

As the drill continued, Toujou began to notice something new in Ryoma's movements—an extra level of focus, an added sharpness to the way he framed each pitch. Even as the ball came in with more speed and spin, Ryoma adjusted quickly, his form precise, every catch clean and confident.

After a few rounds, Coach Ichiro gave a brief pause. He looked at Toujou, then at Ryoma, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Good, Hideaki. But now, we'll add another layer: You'll have to control your spin while reacting. I'll call out the type of spin you need to use. Get ready."

Toujou's pulse quickened. This was new ground. He had been experimenting with spin control during his solo training, but now he would have to do it while maintaining the speed and precision required in the reaction drill.

Ryoma positioned himself, his stance firm, his glove held high in anticipation. He was ready for whatever came his way.

"High spin!" Ichiro barked.

Toujou gripped the ball with a curveball spin, adjusting his fingers along the seams. He set himself up quickly, twisting his body into the familiar motion and releasing the ball with force.

The ball arced through the air, the seems to accelerate with precision in the target zone.

Ryoma tracked the ball all the way to the mitt, making the catch with his usual smoothness, though his eyes sparkled with the effort.

Toujou felt a rush of accomplishment, but there was no time to celebrate.

"Low Spin!" Ichiro ordered.

Toujou quickly adjusted his grip, feeling the subtle difference in the way the ball rested in his hand. He adjusted his stance slightly, pivoting his wrist as he threw. The ball sliced through the air, just outside the strike zone but with seems to arrived slowly that would have fooled any batter.

Toujou wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, feeling the exhilaration of the drill.

His body was beginning to respond instinctively, and he knew he was getting better.

But what impressed him most wasn't just his physical progress—it was the clarity of his mind as he executed the pitches. And Ryoma too, he felt like he could throw more accurately in his gloves.

"Not bad, Ryoma. Hideaki," Ichiro said, his tone indicating approval. "You're both starting to sync up. The spin is sharp, and the reactions are quick. But we still need to build more stamina."

Toujou nodded, a small bead of sweat trickling down his temple. He was starting to feel the strain, but the adrenaline of working with Ryoma kept him going.

The two of them, though still early in their journey as a battery, were becoming more connected with each throw, each catch.

As the drill continued, Ryoma's banter and teasing kept the atmosphere light, but there was no mistaking the seriousness behind his words. "Keep it coming, Hideaki. I'll catch anything you throw at me."

Toujou smirked, trying to push the fatigue from his muscles. "You better be ready, then."

Ichiro watched the exchange, a knowing glint in his eye. He had seen this kind of bond before—one that grew from trust, respect, and shared dedication.

Ryoma's natural talent as a catcher and Toujou's evolving skills as a pitcher were starting to blend together in a way that felt right.

---

After the practice, Toujou went home and sat at his desk, his notebook open in front of him. The pages were filled with his thoughts, notes on drills, and calculations.

His observations from the day were a mix of technical details and deeper reflections on his growing connection with Ryoma.

Toujou smiled as he underlined the last part. Battery chemistry. It wasn't just about the ball or the throw—it was about the connection with his catcher, the person who would help him bring his pitches to life.

The bond between him and Ryoma was starting to feel like something real.

He had also been meticulously recording his progress, comparing his self-taught techniques with Coach Ichiro's methods.

The differences were stark.

His self-training had been focused primarily on repetition.

But under Ichiro's guidance, he was now learning to combine his physical training with mental sharpness—quick decisions, controlled spins, and adapting his body to every pitch with minimal thought.

Self-Training Notes:

Focused on accuracy.

Ball speed: 50-55 mph.

Spin control: Basic High and Low Spin Fastball

Coach Ichiro's Notes:

Reaction drills: Improved mental and physical coordination.

Ball speed: 55-60 mph (target: 65 mph).

Spin control: Refined High and Low Spin Fastball

Improved precision under pressure.

Battery chemistry: Ryoma's presence improving timing and reaction.

Toujou underlined the part that stood out to him: Improved precision under pressure. That was the key.

The more he practiced, the more his body and mind began to sync.

He wasn't just throwing pitches anymore—he was making split-second decisions, anticipating the next move before he even made it.

He closed the notebook and went downstairs.

Toujou sat at the dinner table with his family, his mind buzzing with the day's training.

His mother noticed his quiet focus, a slight smile tugging at her lips as she passed him a bowl of rice. "How was practice today, Hideaki?"

"It was good," Toujou replied, glancing up. "Coach Ichiro's drills are getting tougher, but I can feel myself improving."

His mother's eyes softened. "We're proud of you. Keep at it. You'll get there."

Toujou smiled back, feeling the warmth of his family's support. "I will," he said, the determination in his voice clear. "I'm not giving up. Not this time."