Chapter 314: Harada-san, Your Entire Persona Just Collapsed!
"Yo! Been waiting long?"
In a plaza somewhere in Tokyo, Harada greeted Sendo, who was sitting on a bench.
"It's fine. I like being alone. …Seriously."
"Sorry for dragging you out at this hour."
"It's nothing. I'm free today anyway. Well, actually I'm free most of the time. Though honestly, it gets annoying here. A bunch of people keep asking me for autographs." Sendo replied as if it didn't matter.
Hearing that, a vein popped on Harada's forehead.
But he understood—Sendo really did hate troublesome things. It was Narumiya at home who made him like that; Harada just hadn't mentally switched from that image yet.
"Free, huh… Shouldn't you be preparing? The Koshien opens the day after tomorrow! Even if your match isn't until the 12th! Dreaming or not, I never thought Yuki would draw such luck." Harada naturally sat beside him.
"It's kinda complicated. Did you watch the drawing ceremony? Honestly, I didn't expect us to get a first-round bye. We only need two wins to enter Top 8.
And neither opponent is particularly famous, either."
"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have watched it.
Defeat your opponent, and then go draw lots—what a concept."
"Do you hate it that much?"
"You're still a first-year, so you don't get what Koshien is."
"Hmm?"
"Well, okay. Even if you did, I doubt you'd feel anything." Harada knew him too well. After all, he was the man that haunted his dreams. (So gay…)
"No. This year, I actually care."
"Oh?" Harada was surprised. In the finals, Sendo showed zero tension or concern.
"For me, the third-years are the best seniors I've ever had. So I want to go—Koshien. With them."
"…I see." Harada stared at him for a few seconds, sighing in mild emotion. (Hey! He wasn't talking about you…)
"Honestly, before the drawing I figured Top 8 would be enough. Never thought Miyuki's luck would be that good."
Sendo recalled how he stared at Miyuki during the ceremony with weird eyes—enough to almost make him flinch.
He really wanted to say: "Watch closely. Learn from me."
"Go for the top." Harada stared straight at him.
"…I know. I'll do my best."
"It's not 'do your best.' It's fight. Otherwise I'm the pathetic one." Harada turned to face him eye-to-eye.
"Harada-san."
"Mm?"
"This doesn't really sound like you."
"It doesn't? Maybe I'm still hung up on losing."
"…I didn't mean that. Also, can you stop staring at me like that?"
Turns out Harada had been staring directly into his eyes, almost freaking Sendo out.
"Hurry up and give it to me then."
"Oh, sorry!" Sendo handed over a bag.
Harada loved history. Sendo loved it too.
"Sorry." Harada took the long-awaited book.
"But is it okay? Shouldn't you be studying?"
"Nope. I'm entering the winter draft and going pro, so I'm pretty free."
"Right, I forgot you're in high demand." Sendo remembered—Harada was a rare all-rounder. Especially as a catcher, brains mattered. His tactical performance in the finals had already made teams drool. And he could hit.
"Uh, can you read it at home?" Sendo stared at him.
Harada was already flipping pages like a kid. His whole persona was collapsing!
"Sorry! I couldn't help it!"
"…Anyway, why are you so free lately? I'm curious."
"Long story short: the coach told me all I need to do is batting practice and face guys like Miyuki in direct showdowns. After that I can rest. So yeah, free."
"Showdowns?"
"Pitching. Haven't pitched in six years though." Sendo said casually; with Harada he didn't bother with senior-junior etiquette.
"Pitching—oh?"
When Sendo turned, Harada was radiating aura!
"Harada-san! Your persona collapsed! Why are you acting like an airhead now?" Sendo really wanted to say that out loud.
"Who caught you? Miyuki?" Of course Harada hated Miyuki.
"Chris-senpai."
"Chris?" Harada immediately calmed.
Chris was the one catcher Harada genuinely admired. In his second year of middle school he was already acknowledged as Kanto's No.1 catcher—perfect in every way. Harada respected him.
"Also… don't you hate pitching?"
"More like I hate being a pitcher. Too exhausting. Not a position for humans. But since it's been so long… bullying people is kinda fun."
"Sounds like you. Results?"
"Four days, no hits. I struck out Miyuki ten times."
"As expected…"
"Perfect. There's a small park nearby with a baseball field. Let's settle this."
"What are you talking about? Did you even bring a ball?"
"Sure did." Harada pulled one from his pocket.
"Uh… why did you bring a ball to meet me?"
"Habit. Without baseball gear, I feel weird. Also works for self-defense." At "self-defense," his eyes flashed.
Sendo was speechless. The number of things to retort about was too high.
"With that build, you don't need self-defense. You trying to kill someone?"
Hardballs may as well be wooden blocks—and Harada's arm strength was ridiculous.
Also, who would be dumb enough to pick a fight with a guy built like Harada?
"Just treat it as a charm." he said awkwardly.
(He definitely wasn't trying to lure Sendo into pitching. Definitely not.)
He glanced at his bag to make sure the glove wasn't showing… (guilt).
"Funny how even when we meet privately, we can't stop talking baseball." Sendo laughed.
"Can't help it. Since elementary school, my brain's been full of baseball."
"Then let's go."
"Huh?"
"You want a rematch like six years ago, right? Also your bag definitely has a glove."
"What a considerate junior. I envy Yuki." Harada thought of his own team of problem children.
"Ours aren't much better. What happened anyway?" Sendo noticed Harada's expression—headache mixed with worry.
"Your fault." Harada sighed.
If he looked a bit more resentful, this could've been from a drama.
Sendo stayed quiet. If Harada didn't continue, it meant it wasn't something he should pry into.
Harada took a deep breath.
"It's Narumiya. He might quit baseball soon."
The atmosphere instantly turned heavy.
"…Because of the finals?"
There was no need to ask.
"More precisely, that last home run. It didn't just shatter our Koshien dream. It shattered Narumiys's confidence. He's been hiding in the dorm since.
At meals he said he doesn't even have the courage to pick up a baseball. And I get it. A genius at his peak, thinking he could do anything—and then absolute power crushes him. One home run might've destroyed a future star."
"I see. What a shame." Sendo replied casually.
Harada frowned—Sendo was carefree, but rarely rude like that.
"Relax. He won't quit that easily. That white-haired guy next year will be a lot tougher. I'm looking forward to it."
"…I see." Harada finally relaxed.
"Don't know why, but when you say it, I want to believe it."
"I hear that a lot. Anyway, let's go. Two guys sitting here might make people think we're 'like that.'" Sendo posed as if they were a couple.
Even knowing he was joking, Harada shuddered.
"That'd be terrible." He walked ahead.
.....
"Here we are."
"Harada-san… do you have a problem with the word 'near'?" Sendo deadpanned.
Harada said nothing, pulling out his glove. Of course it wasn't actually near—he just said that so Sendo would come.
"Here."
Sendo tossed the glove over without even looking after fishing it out.
He still felt a little awkward — he had tricked Sendo into coming all the way out here.
Sendo stared at the glove for a long moment.
Harada, meanwhile, was busy retrieving the bat he borrowed and didn't notice anything wrong.
"Harada-san."
"Hm?" He had just pulled out the bat.
"…Why is this a catcher's mitt?"
"…Eh?"
Harada froze — busted.
"Don't tell me you planned this from the start, luring me out to this deserted place?"
"…Guess I'm exposed."
Harada awkwardly rummaged for gloves.
"Honestly. One after another — baseball idiots.
I get that baseball is fun now, but isn't this a bit much? Harada-san, do you sleep hugging your bat or what?"
"Er… not really."
He didn't dare talk back; he could only tank Sendo's full verbal assault.
"That's not the point! It's a rare break… and we're playing baseball again! Seriously…"
Finished complaining, Sendo started muttering to himself.
Harada stayed quiet — praying it would be over soon.
Seeing Harada's embarrassed, honest-looking face, Sendo felt bad about continuing the roast.
"Fine. Let's just start."
"Huh?"
Harada didn't expect him to stop that quickly.
"Didn't you want a match?" Sendo said gently.
"…Yeah."
"As expected… he really is kind," Harada thought.
But once he stood in the batter's box and looked toward the mound — that gentleness vanished completely.
What replaced it was a crushing sensation of being looked down upon from above.
If Namiki's pitching felt like a king overlooking his subjects, then Sendo's aura was something like a god looking down upon mortals.
Seeing those eyes, Harada felt true coldness — a demon king, almost.
"This guy… whether he's hitting or pitching, he suffocates people with his aura."
Harada thought as he swallowed.
"Decided on the rules yet?"
Sendo asked, while Harada was still being crushed by the presence coming off the mound.
"We only have one ball. Three at-bats. But if the ball gets lost—"
"Relax. It won't get lost. I don't plan on letting you touch it."
Sendo declared, looking down at him from the mound.
"…What did you just say?"
Harada thought he misheard.
When he lifted his head, all he saw was that black, cold gaze looking down from above.
Strikeouts and not even letting the bat touch the ball were two very different things.
"Do you… have any idea what you're saying?"
Harada asked, stunned.
Three at-bats with zero contact — it was beyond arrogance.
"Perfectly clear."
"That contrast is ridiculous…"
Harada wondered where the polite, warm guy from the park had gone.
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