Back in Nagata's dugout, their cleanup hitter looked thoroughly ashamed of himself.
"So even a 120-kilometre-per-hour fastball is still too much for you to handle?"
Nagata's coach frowned as he spoke.
Amongst Nagano Prefecture's stronger baseball teams, particularly those capable of reaching the quarter-finals or semi-finals, pitches travelling at 120 kilometres per hour or even faster weren't necessarily impossible to hit.
Even Shirin Junior High, which had previously faced Akagi, possessed pitchers of that calibre.
Their first-string ace could throw at around 120 kilometres per hour, with his fastest pitches approaching 130!
However, those schools were amongst Nagano's perennial contenders.
There was simply no comparing them with a team like Nagata, which routinely suffered elimination in the opening round of major tournaments.
Nagata's fourth hitter opened his mouth as though he wanted to explain something.
In the end, however, he remained silent.
Perhaps it was merely his imagination.
Nevertheless, he couldn't shake the feeling that Sawamura's pitches possessed something beyond their extraordinary velocity.
There was a certain quality to that pitcher's deliveries.
Something he couldn't quite put into words.
Following the cleanup hitter's dismissal, the remaining batters fared no better.
Before long, Akagi had completed its defensive duties for the inning.
Despite watching his players suffer one strikeout after another, Nagata's coach wasn't particularly anxious.
After all, when they'd agreed to arrange a practice match against Akagi, he'd already anticipated something like this.
He believed that as the game progressed, his players would gradually become accustomed to Sawamura's pitching speed.
If they were dealing with nothing more than straight fastballs, then a velocity of 120 kilometres per hour wasn't an insurmountable obstacle.
In fact, that was precisely why Nagata had agreed to organise this practice match.
Only by becoming accustomed to pitches of this calibre could his students eventually hope to challenge Nagano Prefecture's stronger schools.
It was now the bottom of the second inning.
Akagi Junior High was on offence.
And the first batter stepping into the box was none other than their ace pitcher and cleanup hitter.
Sawamura Eijun!
"Hah!"
Sawamura gave the bat in his hands an energetic practice swing.
He was practically bursting with excitement.
In his previous life, his batting ability had frequently been the subject of ridicule from the people around him.
Now that he'd been given another chance at life, Sawamura wanted more than simply to fulfil the dreams he'd carried with him from the past.
He also intended to accomplish something worthwhile as a batter!
Come on, then!
The era of Sawamura Eijun, the mighty pitcher and fearsome slugger, begins now!
Sawamura stood firmly inside the batter's box, raising his bat high above his shoulder.
At first glance, his stance appeared serious and imposing, as though he were preparing himself for an intense confrontation.
However, his entire posture was actually remarkably relaxed.
Not a single part of his body was unnecessarily tense.
The bat held high in his hands swayed ever so slightly.
It was almost as though he were searching for a particular moment.
Waiting patiently for the opportunity to deliver a decisive blow.
How irritating.
The first person to notice something unusual about Sawamura's batting stance was Nagata's catcher.
He couldn't explain precisely what was bothering him.
There was simply something deeply unpleasant about the way Sawamura stood there waiting for the pitch.
The constant movement of his bat was particularly distracting.
Without doing anything obvious, Sawamura was effectively drawing the pitcher's attention towards it.
Human beings tended to overlook objects that remained perfectly still.
However, whenever something moved, their eyes were naturally drawn towards it.
And that was exactly what Nagata's pitcher was experiencing.
For some inexplicable reason, the bat in Sawamura's hands seemed larger than it had before.
That bat…
Why does it look so enormous?
It was an extraordinarily peculiar sensation.
Ordinarily, striking an incoming baseball with a bat required considerable practice.
After all, the bat had a relatively narrow hitting surface, and the batter needed excellent timing and coordination to make contact.
But imagine trying to hit the same baseball with a frying pan instead.
Naturally, the task would become considerably easier!
At the very least, making contact with the ball would be far less difficult.
And that was precisely the strange impression Nagata's pitcher was getting.
Somehow, the bat in Sawamura's hands appeared considerably larger than the bats wielded by ordinary players.
Of course, he knew perfectly well that such a thing was impossible.
But no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't shake the feeling.
After all, Sawamura had experienced the rigorous demands of professional baseball in his previous life.
Some of the little habits he'd developed over the years had become so natural that he barely noticed them himself.
Yet those seemingly insignificant habits often served a very practical purpose.
There was an old saying that an expert's abilities could be recognised the moment they demonstrated their craft.
Baseball was no different.
Whenever a genuinely accomplished player stepped onto the field, their experience naturally revealed itself through their every movement.
Their posture, gestures and manner of carrying themselves possessed a certain unmistakable quality.
Here it comes!
From Sawamura's perspective, Nagata's pitch appeared remarkably slow.
Judging by eye, it was probably travelling at around 100 kilometres per hour.
Come to think of it, Sawamura hadn't encountered a pitch this slow in quite some time.
Even Miki, the first-year pitcher from Shirin Junior High, had been capable of throwing at 110 kilometres per hour!
Junior high school players, particularly those in their third year, might not have reached the absolute peak of their physical development, but they were already getting fairly close.
For pitchers of that age, a fastball travelling at around 120 kilometres per hour wasn't especially uncommon.
Even the less impressive pitchers could generally manage something approaching 110.
Yet this fellow could apparently throw at only 100 kilometres per hour!
Could he have some other weapon besides velocity?
The thought crossed Sawamura's mind almost instinctively.
It wasn't that he was being unnecessarily cautious.
Rather, it was a habit he'd developed throughout his professional career.
At the professional level, swinging recklessly was an extremely dangerous thing to do.
One careless decision could allow the opposing pitcher to dictate the entire confrontation.
Consequently, every swing needed to be carefully considered.
Increasing the opposing pitcher's pitch count.
Waiting for the right opportunity to swing.
Anticipating the type and course of the next pitch.
All these considerations had become second nature to Sawamura.
He'd never specifically devoted himself to studying or practising such tactics.
After spending more than a decade playing baseball, however, he'd naturally developed the habit of approaching every at-bat this way.
And now was no different.
"Strike!"
Sawamura didn't swing at the first pitch.
Instead, he calmly watched it pass.
His behaviour didn't seem particularly unusual to the members of Akagi.
After all, in their eyes, practically everything Sawamura did was difficult to understand.
They'd long since grown accustomed to his unpredictable behaviour.
Nagata's players, however, saw things rather differently.
They were genuinely taken aback.
They'd expected a pitcher capable of throwing at over 120 kilometres per hour to be an extraordinary player.
Especially since Sawamura wasn't merely Akagi's ace pitcher.
He was also their cleanup hitter!
Surely someone occupying both positions had to be an exceptional all-rounder?
But now…
Could it be that he's all bark and no bite?
Perhaps he only looks impressive!
Maybe his pitching was outstanding, but his batting ability was nothing special.
Pop!
"Ball!"
"Ball!"
After observing three consecutive pitches, Sawamura gradually began to understand his opponent's actual abilities.
Oh.
So that's how it is.
It wasn't that Nagata's pitcher possessed some mysterious weapon or unusual technique.
Sawamura had simply been overthinking things!
The opposing pitcher's fastball really did travel at only around 100 kilometres per hour.
And the reason he'd been entrusted with the position of ace was remarkably simple.
He could reliably throw the ball into the strike zone!
That was all.
From that fact alone, Sawamura could gain a fairly accurate understanding of Nagata's overall standard.
"Ahem!"
Sawamura cleared his throat awkwardly.
He felt rather embarrassed.
To think someone with my experience actually got intimidated by a little brat like this…
If Kuramochi-senpai ever hears about it, he'll probably laugh himself to death!
Now that he'd seen through his opponent's actual abilities, Sawamura no longer had any reason to hesitate.
He was finally ready to swing.
At that very moment, however, Nagata's catcher was beginning to have doubts of his own.
He hasn't swung at any of the first three pitches.
Could it be that this fellow is only good at pitching?
Maybe his batting is actually terrible!
The more the catcher thought about it, the more reasonable the possibility seemed.
If that's the case, there's no reason for us to keep avoiding him!
Let's settle this with a proper strike!
Having made up his mind, the catcher decisively signalled for a pitch inside the strike zone.
Meanwhile, Nagata's pitcher had gradually regained his confidence.
As he continued throwing, the overwhelming pressure he'd initially felt began to disappear.
On his very first pitch, he'd been so intimidated by Sawamura's presence that he'd accidentally thrown the ball straight down the middle of the strike zone.
Fortunately, Sawamura hadn't swung.
Otherwise, the consequences might have been disastrous.
Looking back on it now, however, the pitcher realised that he'd probably frightened himself unnecessarily.
Because Sawamura was such an extraordinary pitcher, he'd subconsciously assumed that the boy must also possess exceptional batting ability.
But perhaps that wasn't the case at all!
I'll finish you off with this pitch!
Having made his decision, Nagata's pitcher committed himself completely to his delivery.
He put his full strength into the motion, swinging his pitching arm with considerably more force than before.
As a result, the velocity of his pitch increased noticeably.
This time, the baseball was travelling at approximately 110 kilometres per hour!
However, from Sawamura's perspective, the incoming pitch looked absolutely delightful.
Those earlier pitches travelling at around 100 kilometres per hour had been irritatingly slow.
They'd moved like crawling tortoises, making it surprisingly awkward for him to find a comfortable batting rhythm.
But this was different.
A fastball travelling at 110 kilometres per hour?
Now that's much better!
End of Chapter 009