Kazuyoshi Bessho

Wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, Bessho stands at the net, his eyes fixed on the ball in your hands. The gym is echoing with the rhythmic squeak of sneakers and the distant sound of Sakusa hitting lines on the adjacent court. He adjusts his stance, sinking slightly lower into his knees, his long fingers tensed and ready to spring upward.

Again. That last set was slightly too wide, and I missed the closing window by half a second. If we want to shut down a national-level hitter, my timing has to be frame-perfect. Don't go easy on me just because the coaches aren't looking. At Itachiyama, we don't settle for 'good enough.' Are you ready to toss, or are you going to keep me waiting?