Diamond No Ace: The Strongest Hitter

Chapter 1: My Name Is Actually...

A Hospital in Tokyo, Japan

"I didn't die? But where am I? Is this... have I been reincarnated? And I've just been born?"

When the boy opened his eyes, he saw a white ceiling. As he looked at his hands, he confirmed that he had indeed been reincarnated.

He fell into a daze for a moment, but soon, overwhelming drowsiness interrupted his confusion.

As he drifted into semi-consciousness, he heard voices.

He knew they were speaking Japanese, but in his previous life—or rather, in his past life now—although he enjoyed Japanese anime, that didn't mean he could fully understand the language.

Fortunately, he caught some familiar words.

"...namae..." was one of the words he could make out. After that, he lost consciousness again.

The boy spent most of his childhood in a state of sleep. His parents, reassured by the doctors that everything was fine, thought he was simply naturally sleepy and would outgrow it.

However, the boy himself was unaware of this. In his past life, he had no athletic talent whatsoever.

In fact, when he was younger, he ran even slower than the slowest girl in his class. But he did have a high aptitude for static tasks, whether in sports or academics.

He had an active mind, strong analytical skills, and natural talents in areas like timing perception and dynamic vision, though he never realized he was different from others.

These were all brain-related abilities, so they carried over into this life.

The boy had a habit of constant thinking.

Whenever he found something interesting, he would endlessly analyze and ponder over it.

Even before falling asleep, his mind would be racing, which led to his brain developing extensively. His cognitive abilities continuously improved as a result.

In this new life, however, his brain couldn't handle the level of mental activity, which caused him to be excessively sleepy.

This drowsiness lasted until about a month later, when he finally had periods of wakefulness. By this time, he had fully accepted his new reality.

"I remember hearing something when I was just born... namae... Namae means 'name,' right? So, that must be my name... not sure about the pronunciation though...

...Akira?

Akira? That's probably my name. So my name is Sendo Akira? Isn't that the same pronunciation as Sendo Akira from Slam Dunk? My name is Sendo Akira? No way!"

"Have I been reincarnated into the Slam Dunk world? Or is it just a coincidence? Or maybe I misheard the pronunciation?"

As he pondered over this, the boy, now named Sendo, was once again overcome by exhaustion and fell asleep.

This was just a minor episode. Not long after, the slightly more energetic Sendo realized that he wasn't in the Slam Dunk world, and it was merely a coincidence that he shared the same name.

Perhaps his father was a fan of Sendo Akira.

Sendo learned this when, at a few months old, he saw the date on TV. The events of Slam Dunk took place in 1994, so if he were truly the Sendo from Slam Dunk, he couldn't have been born in the 90s.

Due to his brain's unique development, Sendo learned things remarkably fast.

He learned to speak much quicker than other children, and his family regarded him as a child prodigy. As he grew, he also learned that his father was a very busy man.

Though he wasn't sure what his father did or why he was rarely home, the house decor made it clear that his father liked soccer/football. But that didn't matter much to Sendo.

When Sendo started elementary school, he received his first birthday present: a soccer ball. However, it was obvious to anyone that Sendo lacked the curiosity for new things that other children had. (What adult would be curious about a soccer ball?)

Although his father was a soccer fan, he wasn't the kind of fanatic who would force his son to play the sport. Life continued at a steady, uneventful pace.

A Winter Day, Several Years Later

By next spring, Sendo would be entering the fourth grade. His father, who rarely had free time, had taken the whole family out for an outing.

In his parents' eyes, Sendo appeared far more mature and composed than other kids his age.

Thanks to the Japanese education system, Sendo was raised in an environment that allowed him a great deal of independence. This meant he could easily decline certain activities, like the amusement park rides that other children loved.

Clang!

A sudden metallic sound caught Sendo's attention.

"Sendo, that's a batting center over there. It's a sport where you hit balls with a bat," explained Sendo's father when he noticed where his son was looking.

This sparked Sendo's curiosity. Although he had watched plenty of anime and read many manga in his previous life, he had never seen anything like this in person.

Without saying anything, Sendo's father, noticing his son's curiosity, led the family into the batting center.

Inside, there weren't many people—after all, it was winter—but the constant noise of balls being hit still filled the air.

"Wanna give it a try?" his father asked, seeing that his normally indifferent son finally seemed intrigued.

"Yeah!" Sendo nodded, his curiosity piqued.

"Great! Let me take you to an area more suited for kids."

Sendo's father led him to a section where the pitching speed was appropriate for children. Unlike the main area, this place was filled with parents and their children, some of whom were practicing.

After a brief explanation from the staff on how to operate the machine, Sendo entered the pitching area.

He wandered into a room with a sign reading "100km~120km," his parents watching from the outside.

After a few casual swings to get used to the weight of the bat, Sendo inserted a game token into the machine and stepped up to the left batter's box.

Clang, clang, whoosh!

The machine made a series of mechanical sounds before firing a ball that slammed into the board beside him, startling Sendo.

It wasn't the ball that frightened him, but the loud noise. Other kids and their parents glanced over.

"Is this your first time here? Your kid's too young to be in a fast-pitch zone like that," a kind bystander explained to Sendo's parents, who were unfamiliar with the nuances of batting centers.

"Oh, I see! Thank you! We really don't know much. It's his first time seeing this, and he just wanted to give it a try," Sendo's mother replied, quickly expressing her gratitude.

The interval between pitches wasn't too short, giving Sendo plenty of time to recover from the initial shock.

After the first ball surprised him, he quickly composed himself and realized that he needed to focus on hitting the ball.

Suddenly, the idea of experiencing something for the first time seemed interesting, and a sense of excitement built up inside him.

With newfound determination, Sendo gripped the bat—he wasn't sure if his hold was technically correct, but it felt comfortable and gave him a good sense of control.

Whoosh!

Clang!

The machine fired the second ball, which hit the board behind him once again. This time, Sendo didn't even attempt to swing. He wanted to observe the ball's speed carefully.

Sendo's parents were amused by the serious, adult-like expression on their son's face as he analyzed the ball.

Clang, clang, whoosh!

Clang!

Suddenly, the distinct metallic sound of a bat connecting with the ball rang out.

Though Sendo's swing would have looked awkward and ineffective to a professional, lacking proper form and technique, the speed of his bat was exceptional.

With a completely unorthodox swing, Sendo sent the ball soaring high into the air. On a standard elementary school field, it would have been considered a long drive.

Parents nearby were stunned by the scene.

However, Sendo didn't pay any attention to their reactions.

His eyes lit up—there was an indescribable satisfaction from the bat making solid contact with the ball.

He immediately readied himself for another swing, completely ignoring the compliments from onlookers who exclaimed, "Wow, that was amazing!"

Soon, Sendo was hitting almost every pitch, and with each swing, the ball traveled farther as he became accustomed to the bat's weight.

By his fifth swing, he sent one flying into centerfield for a home run.

And this was off a 100 km/h pitch—something even middle schoolers would find challenging. Hitting a home run, especially to centerfield, was an extraordinary feat.

More and more parents gathered to watch him.

Once he finished his round, Sendo took a few steps back to the coin slot, figuring out how to feed the machine another token. After tinkering with it for a bit, he returned to the batter's box.

Whoosh!

Thud!

The first pitch came, but Sendo didn't swing.

The crowd, however, noticed the ball was traveling much faster this time.

It became clear that this kid wasn't satisfied with the previous speed—he had figured out how to make the machine throw faster!

Whoosh!

Crack!

The second ball connected with the bat, though not perfectly. It wasn't a clean hit, but the ball still shot fast enough to barely clear the infield.

"Wow, incredible!"

"Is this really his first time? That pitch was at least 120 km/h! And he's just a kid—is he a prodigy?"

The murmurs around him grew louder, but Sendo was too engrossed to notice. He was entirely focused on the pitches.

Whoosh!

Clang!

This time, Sendo hit the ball dead-center, sending it rocketing back. The ball bounced after landing, another impressive long drive.

"He's a monster—like a long-ball machine."

Sendo's parents, though not familiar with baseball, could tell from the reactions that their son was doing something remarkable.

That day, Sendo had his fill of batting.

Despite people talking about how fast the pitches were, he didn't feel that they were particularly challenging.

The powerful collision between bat and ball was exhilarating, and he kept swinging for quite some time.

It wasn't until his parents called him to leave that he took a deep breath and stepped out of the box. The compliments from the crowd made him a little embarrassed.

"Sendo, do you want to give baseball a try? You're going to be in fourth grade soon. I overheard some people saying that little league teams are made up of kids from fourth to sixth grade. If you're interested, I can help you join a proper team and learn baseball."

Sendo paused at his father's suggestion.

Although he enjoyed the feeling of batting, he hadn't considered seriously learning the sport.

However, he also realized that staying cooped up at home wasn't going to be an option forever. His dream of being a recluse was probably out of reach.

Compared to running around aimlessly with kids his age, training with a proper youth team didn't sound too bad.

"Next year, I want to join a team. Help me find a strong one, okay? If I'm going to play, I want to join a top-tier team! I'm counting on you, Dad!"

"Leave it to me! I'll find you a great team. Now, let's head home for dinner," his father said, patting Sendo's head with a smile.

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