Archive of Our Own

"Thank you to all the third years for all your hard work and effort," Coach Kataoka said. "We managed to win Koushien because of you. The ones who worked hard on the field and the ones who worked hard to support the ones playing, thank you all so much. I hope you will continue growing to become fine young men that I will be proud of." At the end of his short speech, he bowed.

They cried. They hugged and laughed and cried together. They didn't know if they'd still be in contact after they leave but it didn't matter.

"Your new captain, Sawamura!" Coach Kataoka announced.

"Wahaha!" Their new captain laughed as he walks to stand next to the coach. "To all of you that didn't believe me when I said I was the next captain—take that!"

Haruichi sighed at his friend's antics and stood next to him after the coach announced that he and Kanemaru as vice-captains.

"The numbers will be given out a week before the fall tournament," the coach continued. "That's all!"

The team followed as Sawamura led them in their routine laps around the field. He, because of his ridiculous amount of stamina, had no problem yelling while running at the same time. Although he was loud, the team still smiled because they couldn't imagine having someone other than this boisterous idiot lead them.

Sawamura still worked hard, harder than anyone else. Even though everyone on the team had already acknowledged him as a reliable pitcher, he still pushed himself. Kanemaru kept watch of him to make sure he didn't run himself to the ground because they all knew he'd never pace himself properly. Everyone knew why though; everyone knew it was because he still hadn't had the chance to wear the ace number.

Sawamura Eijun came to Seidou believing that he'd be the ace before realising just how much he lacked to even be considered a decent player. He surprised everyone with how diligent he was with all the effort that he put in. He was crushed when Furuya got the number before he did but he admitted that back then, Furuya was still better than him. He'd struggled more than anyone in the last two years but he wouldn't have it any other way because if it weren't for all his hardships, he wouldn't be as strong both physically and mentally as he was now.

He thought that as long as he worked hard—worked on his stamina, his pitching and his batting—that he'd be able to wear the number at least once in his high school career. He did; he ran the most laps every day, he learned and perfected as many types of pitches that he could, he even managed to become a decent batter. So why, just why, was he gripping a number 10 instead of 1?

"Number 1, Furuya Satoru," Coach Kataoka announced.

Everyone was just as confused as Sawamura, including the monster pitcher himself. Furuya had thought that for sure he'd lose the number to Sawamura and he had long since come to terms with the fact that the southpaw was now better than him in many different ways. He stood wide-eyed and frozen before a nudge broke his train of thought and he took his number from the coach.

Sawamura didn't say anything after that, he got his bat and continued to practice. No one said anything to him as he continued to hit every ball that came his way. No one congratulated Furuya on the ace number and no one tried to disagree with the coach's decision. He just thought about how Furuya had once again beat him.

The southpaw kept swinging at every single ball and hit every single one of them as hard as he could. He was angry and he was frustrated. He hadn't once believed that he was guaranteed the number but he had thought that he had a higher chance this time. All his hard work and all his effort were for nothing, he still wasn't good enough to wear the number. With that thought in mind, he kept swinging and swinging well past midnight before Kanemaru dragged him back to his room.

Furuya got it, he managed to snag the ace number again. As he stared at the number proudly sitting on his desk, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He felt like he didn't deserve it, like he hadn't earned it. He should be happy, shouldn't he? The coach trusted him enough to lead the team one last time. So why was he tossing and turning in bed? Why did he fall asleep thinking that the number would look much better on a certain southpaw?

Sawamura was still the first one on the field running his laps before anyone was awake but that was because he barely slept; he was up at night wondering why he wasn't good enough and what else he could do to get better. He was still the one who ate the most and practised the longest. Even though he hadn't gotten the ace number, he was still the one working the hardest and everyone was speaking so delicately to him. He hated it, he hated their pity. It wasn't anyone's fault but his own for not being good enough.

Three days after the announcement, Sawamura had literally ran himself to the ground. Everyone was in a frenzy as they watched their captain collapse after his fifth lap. Kanemaru reached out to touch his forehead and flinched at the heat radiating off the southpaw.

"He's sick," he called out. Looking closely at Sawamura, Kanemaru noted the dark circles under his eyes and how pale the southpaw's skin had gotten. Sawamura was so feverish that he was shivering and mumbling incoherently. 

They brought him back to his room and got the nurse to come take a look at him. She instructed them on what to do and handed some medication over before leaving. Together with Haruichi, Kanemaru helped change Sawamura's clothes and covered him in blankets before placing a damp washcloth on his forehead.

"I... I should have paid closer attention to him," Kanemaru admitted, guilt evident in his voice. "I should have stopped him from overworking."

Haruichi placed a hand on Kanemaru's shoulder. "It's not your fault," he said softly.

"The idiot finally worked himself to the ground, huh?" Miyuki said as he stepped into the room with Kuramochi following behind him. "He's gonna get an earful from Chris once he recovers."

Kuramochi shut the door and looked at them with a serious expression on his face. "No offence but I think coach made the wrong decision," he confessed. "I don't see why Sawamura didn't get the ace number."

"I agree," Miyuki said. "Furuya isn't bad but Sawamura had been much more consistent."

"I agree too," came a soft voice from outside the door. 

Kuramochi opened it to see Furuya standing there with a solemn expression. "I want to be the ace but I also want whats best for the team and right now, that's Eijun," he explained.

Suddenly, the sound of movement came from where Sawamura was lying and they all snapped their head over to see the southpaw trying to sit up. "W-what's going on?" He mumbled, voice hoarse and sounding weak.

"You've overworked yourself and now you have a fever, Eijun-kun," Haurichi said.

"Why would you do something so stupid?" Kanemaru demanded. "You know you should never overdo it so why didn't you pace yourself?"

Tears started streaming from Sawamura's eyes. "Because I wasn't... I'm still not good enough," he choked out. "I'm still not good enough to wear the ace number. I'm still not good enough for the team. I'll never be good enough to lead Seidou." He sobbed. "Even after everything, I'm still just a relief pitcher. I thought if I worked harder and pushed myself more then maybe coach would acknowledge me and let me start some games."

"You're the captain now, Sawamura," Miyuki stated. "Do you think it's a good example as captain to overwork yourself and get sick when the fall tournament is days away?"

"N-no," the southpaw replied guiltily. "I... I just thought that if I worked hard enough that I'd finally be acknowledged by the team and by coach."

"You're a real idiot, you know that?" It was Kuramochi that spoke up this time. "Do you seriously still think that you'd be captain if none of us acknowledged you? Do you think Miyuki and I would have recommended you to the coach if we didn't think you were good enough?"

Kanemaru sighed. "We don't say it often but we believe in you, Sa-captain. Why do you think no one said a thing when coach announced you were captain?" The southpaw shrugged in response. "It's because none of us could imagine having someone else lead us. We trust you to lead us."

"B-But it doesn't change the fact that Furuya is still better than me," Sawamura tried to argue.

"No I'm not," Furuya replied. "I've never once thought I was better than you. It doesn't feel right wearing the ace number either because I know you deserve it more than me right now."

Sawamura was full on crying now. He was sobbing and snotty and wailing. "I'm s-sorry," he sobbed. They let him cry his heart out and waited patiently for him to calm down. He turned to Miyuki. "Please don't tell Chris-senpai about this," he begged.

Miyuki snickered. "Too late."

Sawamura cried again but this time it was because he knew how disappointed Chris would be with him.

"So you think I made a mistake with giving the ace number to Furuya instead of Sawamura?" The coach repeated.

"Yes," Miyuki replied.

Coach Kataoka replied, "I didn't want to give both the captain and the ace title to Sawamura because he'd be under an enormous amount of pressure."

"Coach, if you knew Sawamura at all you'd know that he thrives under pressure."

Coach Kataoka thought about it for a moment. "Well, you're right. But I've already given out the number so-"

Furuya barged in, jersey number in hand. "I'll give it back so please give it to Eijun."

The coach stared at him slightly wide-eyed with surprise. The rest of the team were behind Furuya. "Please give Sawamura the number coach!" Kanemaru shamelessly requested. 

Coach Kataoka cleared his throat. "You're all in agreement with this?" He asked and the team let out a chorus of 'yes, sir's. He turned to Furuya. "Are you really sure about this, Furuya? This will be the last time in your high school career to call yourself the ace." 

"No one deserves it more than Eijun," he replied without any hesitation. 

The coach sighed in relief. "One of you get Sawamura in here." 

"Yes, sir!" Kanemaru quickly yelled and scrambled out of the room. 

A few minutes later, Kanemaru walked in without knocking, a mumbling Sawamura with his head down in tow. 

"Sawamura." Coach Kataoka wasted no time in getting down to business. "Do you know why you're here?" 

"To tell me I'm not fit to be captain cause I set a bad example by overworking." Sawamura kept looking at the ground, fists clenched by his sides. 

"That is, I admit, not a good example for the other players but that's not what I called you here for." Coach Kataoka placed a hand on Sawamura's shoulder and only then did the southpaw look up and realise all his teammates were in the room. 

"Wh-what are you guys doing here?" He asked, eyes widened in shock. 

"Sawamura," Coach Kataoka drew the southpaw's attention back to him. "Here. I believe you'll lead us well." 

Was Sawamura dreaming? Coach was holding a jersey with a bold number '1' printed on it. But Kanemaru's pat of encouragement on his back made it evident that he wasn't dreaming, it wasn't just an illusion he conjured up. 

With shaky and unsure hands, he reached out a slowly took the jersey from the coach's hands. "A-are you sure I'm good enough?" Sawamura asked in an uncharacteristically small voice. 

"In Furuya's words, no one deserves it more than you," Kanemaru announced what they were all thinking. 

The southpaw's cheeks were wet with tears before he even realised he was crying. All his hard work, every tear and every ounce of sweat he'd shed has led up to this moment, to the moment where he's told he's good enough to be Seidou's ace. 

And so, he will lead this team, his team, as the captain and the ace in his final year. They will stand together, one last time, on the fields of Koushien.