Diamond No Ace: Echoes Of The Ace

Chapter 11: Fastball

"Teach me how to play baseball!"

Grandpa Tanaka looked at Eijun, who was bowing deeply before him. Though his heart was a little stirred, he kept a composed exterior.

"Huh? Me? I'm just an old man now. Besides, when you go to Seido, there'll be people to teach you," he replied, squinting one eye and stroking his beard as though impatient, all while secretly observing Eijun.

However, Eijun didn't notice this at all and continued looking at him with firm determination.

"I'm still far from good enough," Eijun began.

"I had an inkling before, but after that match, I've come to deeply realize how immature—no, how inexperienced I am. I left behind my teammates in my hometown to go to Tokyo."

"I don't want to spend my next three years like some of my seniors. They're admirable, fighting hard in tough circumstances, but I've already fallen behind them by a year or two."

"I don't want to be the guy left cheering from the stands. I want to play on the field, to stand on the mound, to pitch. I want to shine brighter and become the ace! Please help me, Grandpa!"

Looking at Eijun's serious expression, Grandpa Tanaka finally broke into a smile.

"Although it seems like there's some strange stuff mixed in, I can see your determination," he thought to himself.

"Well, since you've asked so earnestly, I can't refuse, can I? But remember this, Eijun: the pitcher is the center of the team, the cornerstone of defense. And the ace is the ultimate goal of every pitcher."

"Being the ace isn't about showing off or seeking admiration—it's about responsibility, a heavy one. You should already understand this as the captain and ace of Akagi Junior High, right?"

Eijun nodded slowly, recalling the last game he played in middle school.

Back then, his collapse led to wild pitches, bringing an abrupt end to his three years.

Just as Grandpa Tanaka said, the pain of failure was something only he understood, and the scar it left hadn't healed quickly.

If anything, it had only grown more painful over time.

Perhaps his seniors felt the same.

Reflecting on this, Eijun felt ashamed of his earlier desire to "shine."

Had he lost his mind?

A pitcher exists for the team, for victory.

The role of the ace or personal recognition pales in comparison to that.

Reaffirming his goal, he began his baseball lessons.

Even though he enlisted Grandpa Tanaka as his coach, the elderly man, due to his age, could only provide Eijun with a basic training regimen focusing on foundational physical fitness and simple pitching practice.

The most significant part of their sessions involved watching and analyzing videos during times when intense activity wasn't advisable, like after lunch or dinner.

Grandpa Tanaka also taught Eijun basic baseball knowledge.

During these sessions, Grandpa Tanaka discovered something shocking: Eijun was astonishingly clueless, to the point of absurdity.

After years of pitching, the boy didn't even know the proper grip for a fastball. Instead, he had been using a flawed imitation for all these years.

Grandpa Tanaka wanted to yell, but Eijun's pitches, despite their oddity, were undeniably interesting.

If his middle school coach hadn't been so inexperienced, even with just a slightly better coach, Akagi might have advanced in Nagano.

Eijun, on the other hand, was floored to learn that his supposedly straightforward pitches were actually quirky.

Thinking back on his past boasts, he felt grateful his teammates hadn't beaten him up.

This realization only made him work harder.

If he couldn't even master a fastball, what right did he have to talk big?

To stand on that field with pride, he had no choice but to give it his all.

...

"Eijun, heading out to train again today?" his mother asked.

"Yes! By the way, Mom, can you double my meals starting tomorrow?"

"Double? You're already eating so much!" she exclaimed.

"I want to eat three bowls every meal!"

"Three bowls? Don't overdo it, Eijun."

Mrs. Sawamura couldn't help but worry about her son, who had seemed a bit off since being discharged from the hospital. "Eijun, are you sure you're okay? If you're feeling unwell, don't hide it. Last time, we had to rush you to the hospital—you scared me to death."

"Sorry, Mom. I honestly don't feel bad at all. It just feels like I had a really long dream—exhausting, but not uncomfortable."

As Eijun ate, he thought about that time. He truly hadn't noticed he had a fever back then. And that dream…

"Was it a nightmare?" his mother asked, concerned that her son might be haunted by something troubling.

"Not at all! Although I can't remember the details, it felt like a great dream. It was exhausting, sure, but it left me feeling good," Eijun replied with a bright smile.

Seeing her son's cheerful face, Mrs. Sawamura finally felt at ease.

"I'm done eating, Mom. I'm heading out to practice. I'll be back for lunch."

"Alright. Be careful on your way and do your best at training!" she called after him.

Eijun began his morning routine with a jog around the fields, heading to his secret base at the foot of the mountain.

There, he practiced his batting in the early hours.

Once his breakfast had mostly digested, he shifted to sprinting up mountain trails and stair-jump drills, thoroughly burning off the meal.

Finally, he transitioned to pitching practice.

Grandpa Tanaka had prepared a makeshift target for him—lined with cloth and marked with a nine-grid pattern.

Eijun pitched each ball with full concentration, recalling Grandpa Tanaka's instructions on gripping the ball along the seams—this was how to throw a proper fastball.

Thinking back to the day Grandpa Tanaka scolded him into near-tears, Eijun blushed with embarrassment.

But no matter how he pitched, something felt off.

It didn't seem like the problem was with the pitch itself but with his posture.

"Hmm, I'll ask Grandpa about it this afternoon."

...

Grandpa Tanaka's Observation Time

"Your posture feels wrong?" Grandpa Tanaka asked.

"Yes, it feels loose somehow. There must be a better way to do it," Eijun replied.

"Hmm. Let me see you pitch a few balls."

As Grandpa Tanaka carefully observed, it became clear that Eijun's form lacked openness.

Though Eijun claimed this was how he had always pitched, his glove hand kept dropping.

"Why does your glove hand always sink?" Grandpa Tanaka asked.

"Huh? Probably to use more strength, I guess?"

Grandpa Tanaka twitched slightly at the response.

---This kid… hopeless. Still, something about it seemed familiar.

"Eijun, watch my pitching motion carefully," Grandpa Tanaka instructed.

He then demonstrated a complete pitching motion, starting with a prepared stance, left hand forward, and right hand swinging from behind.

It was a complex motion, nearly landing the old man back in the hospital.

After describing the key points, he watched as Eijun mimicked the movement.

"This feels so uncomfortable!" Eijun whined after trying it once.

"…"

"Then stop swinging your arm like that, you idiot!" Grandpa Tanaka barked, nearly bursting a blood vessel. Despite his irritation, he waved Eijun on to keep practicing.

After a few tries, Eijun suddenly felt the motion click into place. "This feels… smooth. It's so natural," he said, quickly getting the hang of it.

Grandpa Tanaka, now standing at Eijun's front-right, had him try pitching with the baseball.

He immediately noticed how unique Eijun's new posture was.

Combined with his naturally quirky pitches and an obscured release point, it was a weapon in itself.

---This kid… he's definitely strange. How did he even come up with this posture? Pitcher's instincts, maybe?

"Alright, Eijun. Keep practicing this motion to make it second nature. But remember, don't exceed the pitch count I've set for you. It's for your body's sake."

"Ehhh? That pitch count isn't nearly enough, Grandpa! I want to pitch more, a lot more!"

"Think about your future. An ace must take care of their body. I have a few books—take them home and study. But if you can't pitch, you can practice shadow pitching."

"Shadow pitching?"

"Yes, shadow pitching. And on top of that, you need to work on building your stamina and lower body stability."

"Yes, sir!"

...

When Eijun returned home, he called out, "I'm back!"

"Welcome back," his mother replied. "Wash up and get ready for lunch. Go call your dad and grandpa from the backyard, okay?"

"Got it."

After a quick rinse, Eijun headed to the backyard, where he found his father working on a wooden frame while his grandfather enthusiastically supervised.

Only then did Eijun notice something new in the yard. On the other side, directly in front of the frame, there was a small mound of dirt with a crate of baseballs beside it.

At that moment, the wooden frame became clearer in form—it was a pitching target.

The center was made with black tape, and the strike zone was outlined with colorful markers, complete with dividing lines.

Eijun stood frozen, staring at his busy father and grandfather, unable to hold back his voice.

"Grandpa~~~! Dad~~~!"

Startled, the two turned to see Eijun standing there. Their faces immediately flushed red as they averted their eyes, trying to act indifferent.

"Well, seeing how hard you've been working, we thought we'd show a little support, that's all," they said, feigning nonchalance.

Eijun, already overwhelmed with emotion, didn't care what they said.

Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.

His family truly was the best—whether in the past, now, or in the future, they would always be there to support him.

"Ah, there's Ei-chan crying again," came a teasing voice.

"Huh? Why are you all here?" Eijun asked, noticing the arrival of his friends.

The group exchanged smiles and said, "Lately, you've been so busy that we haven't spent much time together. So, we decided to help you train!"

"Everyone…"

Eijun's tears flowed even more freely now. His friends and family looked at him with fondness, their hearts melting at the sight of this earnest, forever-young boy.

"Well, he's one of our own. What can we do but spoil him? Throw him away? Not a chance."

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