Kawakami looks back at him from the pitcher's mound, mouth drawn down in a frown and eyes wide with worry as he whips his arm around. Kazuya doesn't know what he's worried about, exactly -whether it's Sawamura's condition or Kazuya's.

He knows if asked he won't be able to recall what kinds of pitches he asked for, or who had done what at the plate. He barely remembers to keep track of the pitch counts and the outs, and is secretly relieved and grateful when the younger Kominato takes over for him, fingers counting down the outs -one two three.

It's strange, though, how focused he feels despite the heaviness of his body and the haziness of his mind. The need to finish is a single-minded determination that would put even Sawamura to shame, and the relief he feels when the umpire calls the game comes with a twinge of guilt.

Kuramochi rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes a bit too hard. He gets it.

They line up and take their bow. There's no celebration as the opponent trudges back to their dugout, eyes fixed on the ground in defeat. Kazuya turns his gaze to Kataoka and the rest of his team follows suit, waiting for answers Kazuya doesn't even know he wants to hear.

-TG