Night had fallen over Seidou Academy.
Most of the players had already returned to the dorms or their homes, chatting about practice or tomorrow's schedules. The field was quiet now, lights dimmed, only a few faint bulbs flickering near the dugout.
But someone was still there.
Kenji Takahashi stood alone in the batter's box.
His shirt was soaked with sweat, knuckles red from countless swings. He had reset the tee over and over again, driving balls into the net with the same unshakable rhythm.
Swing. Reset. Swing. Reset.
Over and over.
He wasn't practicing.
He was fighting something.
His eyes weren't looking at the ball anymore.
They were staring at the past.
His real past.
The life he left behind.
Back then, Kenji wasn't a monster hitter. He was average. He had talent, but no discipline. Confidence, but no clutch instinct. He had choked during his high school tournament — striking out with the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth.
His team had lost everything because of him.
That moment had haunted him for years.
He had trained obsessively, burning his body out just to earn a scholarship to college. But his dream of going pro?
Gone.
Then the accident happened.
And here he was — reborn in a body full of potential, dropped into the world of baseball legends.
A cruel joke?
Or a gift?
Kenji didn't know.
But he did know this:
He would never be weak again.
He would never choke again.
He would never let fear take the bat from his hands.
"This is my second life…" he whispered, shoulders trembling. "I won't waste it."
From a distance, someone watched him.
A girl — holding a clipboard and wearing a Seidou windbreaker.
Itou Hana. First-year student. New assistant manager.
She had come to check the equipment shed but froze when she saw Kenji alone in the dark, swinging like a madman.
She watched as he dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, bat falling beside him.
He looked completely different from the quiet, confident player everyone saw during practice.
Vulnerable. Broken. Human.
Hana bit her lip.
"He's hurting..."
She didn't say anything. Just quietly left.
Back at the dorms, Kenji sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
His hands ached. His wrists were sore.
But he felt more alive than ever.
"Tomorrow's the exhibition game."
His shot to prove he belonged on the first string.
"Let's see what this world really throws at me."
He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
But even in his dreams, he saw it again:
The pitch he failed to hit in his first life.
And the promise he'd made when he woke up in this new one:
"If I get one more chance… I'll crush everything in front of me."