After leaving the cafeteria, Eijun didn't head straight to the dorms—nor did he go to the bathhouse.
Instead, he made his way to a quiet, secluded corner of Seishin Dorm.
Hardly anyone ever passed by this area.
Glancing around to make sure he was alone, Eijun carefully rolled up the sleeve on his left shoulder.
Under the pale lamplight, he examined the entire area with close attention.
No swelling, no bruising, no discoloration.
He pressed on it lightly with his right hand.
Rotated it. Flexed.
Everything seed fine—at least on the surface.
Just as a hint of relief began to appear on his face,
a sudden, sharp jolt of pain shot through his arm, like static electricity.
A stabbing sensation. Weakness.
His expression instantly darkened, a flicker of unease flashing in his eyes.
"Still not quite right, huh…" he muttered under his breath.
His face tensed.
A mix of hesitation and conflict crossed his eyes.
Should he tell the coach the truth?
By his own judgnt, it didn't seem serious.
His normal throwing motion still worked.
But those occasional stabs of pain—and the brief monts of numbness—could spell disaster if they happened during a critical pitch.
And worst of all…
He couldn't be sure how bad the injury really was.
If it involved the tendons—then forcing it tomorrow might only make it worse.
It wouldn't just be irresponsible to the team.
It'd be reckless toward his own career.
But…
If he confessed this to the coach now—there was no way he'd be allowed to pitch in the final.
Not to ntion… Takashima Rei.
Yeah, she'd definitely bar him from the mound if she found out.
Eijun let out a bitter chuckle, imagining her scolding voice in his head like an overbearing mom.
So what now?
Confess?
Or hide it and pray?
He clenched onto a faint hope:
Maybe the pain would be gone by tomorrow.
Or maybe… he could endure it well enough not to ss up.
He had been able to eat just fine earlier.
Normal movents hadn't been a problem.
Even his practice throwing motion had felt okay.
It was just that one sudden stab…
"Winning Nationals… Spring Koshien… Sumr, Fall, Spring—back-to-back-to-back champions…"
His left hand slowly curled into a fist.
"Eijun, I heard you made it to the finals again! Shin and the others are super happy for you. They said you're going to be the strongest pitcher ever. The finals are at noon, right? Uncle, Grandpa, and I will be there to cheer for you! I think Uncle told you already, but Shin and the rest can't make it, so I'll be supporting you extra hard for them too! We really want to watch you grow up close… to see how cool you look on the mound. Eijun, good luck tomorrow! Bring ho the championship!"
A gentle voice from mory.
It carried not just one person's hopes.
It carried her smile.
The faces of his childhood friends.
His teammates' trust.
His fans' expectations.
"I can't let them down…"
Eijun's eyes sharpened with resolve.
Now he understood it—what Miyuki had once gone through in the original story.
The decision Miyuki had made…
Was this the sa feeling?
He looked up.
A strange light flickered in his eyes.
That number on his back.
All the eyes watching him.
The weight of trust and responsibility.
"Maybe… this is what it ans to give sothing up… in order to protect sothing greater."
Once his mind was made up, his shoulders relaxed.
And honestly, he didn't believe the injury was that bad.
If he was lucky, maybe he'd wake up tomorrow and it'd be gone.
And so, as Eijun turned and began walking back toward the dorm—he had no idea soone else had been watching.
Suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared in Eijun's line of sight.
The direction that person was headed… and the odd sensation of being watched earlier—all clicked into place in Eijun's mind.
His eyes narrowed.
A realization dawned.
Without hesitation, Eijun quickened his pace and followed after the figure.
"I can't let him go and do sothing reckless!"
Kuramochi clenched his fists, his steps firm as he made his way toward Coach Kataoka's office.
Even if he couldn't be 100% sure Eijun was injured…
this wasn't sothing that could be left to chance.
As a senior—
as a fellow dorm mate—he couldn't just stand by and watch his junior hurt himself.
This was part of his responsibility as an upperclassman.
But just as he was about to round the final corner near the office—
"Where are you headed, Kuramochi-senpai?"
A calm voice ca from the shadows ahead.
Eijun stepped into view.
Kuramochi's footsteps stopped.
His eyes narrowed at the sight of the boy in front of him.
"Does it matter?" he asked slowly.
"Yeah, it does. Because I think… you might've misunderstood sothing. So I ca to clear it up."
Eijun stepped closer with a firm expression, stopping just one step away from Kuramochi.
"Hmph. Misunderstood, huh? If that's really true… then why are you trying to stop , Sawamura?"
Kuramochi scoffed.
Gone was the usual joking glint in his eyes.
He was dead serious.
Eijun knew imdiately—
Kuramochi wasn't going to be talked down easily.
"You idiot. If you're injured, you can't just hide it. Don't you realize—"
"You really are the sharpest one, Kuramochi-senpai…"
Eijun let out a bitter smile.
Among everyone, Kuramochi was always the most perceptive.
Whether in the original story or in this life, that never changed.
He couldn't believe even those tiny subtle movents had been noticed.
"Kuramochi-senpai, I know what I'm doing. It's not as serious as you think. Tomorrow's the finals. We have to win back-to-back championships. We have to prove that being champions wasn't just a fluke."
"The number on my back doesn't carry weight for nothing."
"We absolutely can't lose here, Kuramochi-senpai.
As the ace, this is my duty—my responsibility.
Isn't it our job to keep winning?"
"You…!"
"Just one day. One match. I'll be fine, really. Look—"
Eijun moved his left arm a bit, showing no signs of pain.
His expression was calm, serious, and full of sincerity.
"Please, Kuramochi-senpai."
Kuramochi's face twisted in frustration.
His raised right hand trembled—and finally dropped, helplessly.
"…Fine. But under one condition."
He lifted his head again, determined.
"Na it."
"If anything feels wrong—any pain, numbness, whatever—you must co off the mound imdiately. And if you don't, I swear I'll go straight to Coach myself!"
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