For a Japanese high school student, classes weren't much of a problem for Eijun.
Having once been part of that country, Eijun had already endured the grueling years of senior high school back there. Especially in his final year, he had experienced the most intense stage of that system.
Compared to that, the workload of a Japanese high schooler wasn't particularly heavy. In terms of the actual material taught, the difference wasn't all that big either. Generally speaking, the curriculum back in his country was ahead of most of the world for students of the sa age.
For Eijun, it was the sa. Subjects like math, English, biology, physics, and chemistry were basically the sa, and he found them easy to handle.
On top of that, as a special athletic admit, his academic expectations were even lower. Seidou wasn't a school that prioritized college entrance rates, and with its lower deviation score, special admits had an even lower passing threshold.
Eijun really couldn't think of any reason he'd ever fail—except in two subjects.
The only problem areas for him were Japanese literature and history.
In those two, Eijun was only passable at best.
Huh? You say his Japanese sounds great? Please—speaking Japanese well doesn't automatically an you're good at Japanese literature. In his previous life, Eijun's English had been just fine too, but that didn't an his language arts scores were anything to brag about.
The real challenge ca with classical prose and so of the modern literary works—Eijun honestly struggled to make sense of them.
As for history… well, before coming to Japan, the only nas he really knew were famous figures like Oda Nobunaga or Tokugawa Ieyasu—and even then, he'd learned about them from video gas.
Everything else? He was totally in the dark.
Foreign history was fine—those were more or less universal. But when it ca to Japanese history, he had to start from scratch.
So for these two classes, in the first sester's midterms and finals, and even the second sester's midterms, Eijun had passed just barely, skating right on the line. One tiny slip, and it would've been ga over.
...
"Phew…"
Another Japanese literature class finally ended.
Eijun leaned back in his chair and let out a deep breath.
"That really is exhausting…"
He shook his head, stretching his arms a little, and rolled up his left sleeve. Seeing that most of the swelling had gone down, he allowed himself a pleased smile.
"How's it looking, Sawamura? Has your left arm healed up?"
Sitting nearby, Kanemaru Shinji—already packed up and ready to go—turned to ask. (In this life, Eijun's seat wasn't in front of Kanemaru like in the original story; instead, he had the classic ani protagonist's spot—last row by the window.)
"Yeah, most of the swelling's gone. Another two or three days, and I should be able to train again without any issues," Eijun replied with a smile and a nod.
"Haha, that's good to hear. The team's waiting for you to get back," Kanemaru said with a grin.
"Mm-hmm. By the way, Kanemaru—don't we have practice gas this week?" Eijun suddenly rembered, raising his brows slightly.
"Yeah. After morning practice today, the coach told us we've got one ga on Saturday and another on Sunday. Saturday's opponent is Kuroba High from Kyoto—they've already qualified for next year's Spring Koshien. Sunday's opponent is Aoki High from Aichi, who also played in this year's Sumr Koshien," Kanemaru explained.
"Who's starting?"
"The coach wants to split the first string into two teams. Saturday will be the starting lineup, Sunday will be the bench players. He's also planning to pull in a few guys who've been doing well in training recently to fill out the roster.
"As for starting pitchers—Saturday will be Kawakami-senpai, and Sunday will be Furuya."
"Ohhh!"
Eijun nodded quietly.
He really was envious… being able to pitch in a ga.
Even though it had only been three or four days since he'd last touched a ball, it already felt like months. That restless emptiness was eating at him.
When Kanemaru slung his bag over his shoulder and headed toward the field, Eijun followed suit, packing up his own bag.
The difference was that Eijun headed toward the library.
Since he couldn't touch a ball or even do basic training, he figured he might as well be productive and review his studies. It was better than just sitting around in boredom.
But when he walked into the library and reached the central row of tables, he unexpectedly stumbled upon a rather surprising group.
It was a gathering of third-years under Chris-senpai's lead: the ever-fierce-looking Isashiki-senpai, the calm and composed captain, the handso face of the third years—Kusunoki-senpai, the ever-smiling "demon" senpai, Kominato Ryousuke… and a round, rolling, unidentifiable object.
Kusunoki and Chris both wore gentle smiles as they gave guidance on sothing. The captain and Ryousuke seed fine. Isashiki, on the other hand, looked positively tornted—his usual fierce expression now paired with deep frustration as he scratched his head over the notes and practice problems on the desk.
One glance, and Eijun instantly understood.
The study-cram session of a certain academically challenged senpai.
"Yo, if it isn't our Ace himself."
Isashiki-senpai was the first to notice Eijun's arrival. His eyes imdiately lit up, and he broke into a wide grin as he called out a cheerful greeting.
Of course, anyone familiar with Isashiki's voice could imagine what happened next—his unrestrained shout drew the attention of everyone nearby.
Realizing his slip almost instantly, Isashiki bowed quickly and said, "Sorry, sorry."
When it ca to small points of etiquette like this, Isashiki was actually quite mindful.
His outburst, however, had already caught the attention of Chris and Tetsuya. They both stopped what they were doing and turned their gaze toward Eijun.
So much for Eijun quietly finding a corner to study—he had no choice now but to walk over.
He stepped forward a few paces, bowed slightly, and spoke in a low voice, "Good afternoon, Chris-senpai, Yuuki-senpai, Isashiki-senpai, Kusunoki-senpai… uh… and… this must be Masuko-senpai, right?"
From appearance alone, he honestly wouldn't have been able to tell.
Still, relying on his past familiarity, he managed to identify the rotund, mysterious, rolling figure before him.
After all, in the entire Seidou team, it was unlikely there existed anyone rounder than Masuko.
In the original story's autumn season, after leaving the active roster, Masuko's weight had increased at a geotric rate—bringing him to exactly this "rolling ball" state.
"Sawamura-kun…"
The rotund, mysterious figure—no, Masuko-senpai—could clearly hear the surprise and hint of disbelief in Eijun's tone.
His expression shifted into one of utter resignation, his round face radiating a mix of lancholy and quiet complaint.
The sight sent a chill down Eijun's spine.
Yes—if you imagine an unidentifiable rolling object staring at you with a sorrowful, almost betrayed expression, you can probably understand exactly how Eijun felt at that mont.
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