The late afternoon sun slanted across Seidou's practice ground, casting long shadows over the diamond. Dust swirled faintly in the air as both teams prepared for the seventh inning. It wasn't a stadium, just Seidou's own field, but the atmosphere had grown heavier with every pitch. The dugouts buzzed with voices, aluminum bats clinked, gloves snapped shut—both benches alive with nerves and anticipation.
The scoreboard told the story: Inashiro, 0. Seidou, 0. Six innings down, and neither team had managed to crack the other's ace.
But where Mei Narumiya looked as calm and sharp as when the first pitch had been thrown, Sendo Akira's body was showing signs of strain. His cap brim dripped with sweat, his shoulders rose and fell more heavily, and his fastball didn't explode the way it had in the opening innings.
Even so, his eyes burned. He wasn't letting go of this mound. Not yet.
Top of the 7th – Inashiro's Turn
Carlos, the leadoff hitter for this inning, twirled his bat with a smirk as he stepped in. His uniform was already dirt-stained, a testament to how aggressive he played.
From the Inashiro dugout, whispers carried.
"Look at him… he's slowing down.""His release isn't as sharp. This is our chance."
But Mei, sitting with his arms crossed, didn't even glance at the mound. His voice was cool, cutting through the chatter."He's still standing. Don't underestimate him."
Harada, the captain, gave a short nod. "Carlos. Read him carefully. We break this open here."
Sendo wiped the sweat from his brow and exhaled. Focus. Don't let them smell blood. Even if my body's screaming, I'll hold this mound.
The catcher, Miyuki, crouched and gave the sign. A fastball inside.
Sendo gritted his teeth and delivered.
"STRIKE!"
Carlos blinked. Late. He hadn't expected that much life.
"Still got bite, huh…" he muttered, adjusting his grip.
The next pitch—curveball. Carlos swung and chopped it foul.
"0-2."
The Seidou bench roared encouragement. Sawamura pounded the railing, voice hoarse. "Nice! That's it, Sendo!"
Sendo exhaled. One more. He wound, fired—fastball high. Carlos chased.
"STRIKE THREE!"
The freshman had fanned Inashiro's dangerous leadoff.
But his shoulders sagged as he caught the return throw. Even the bench could see his fatigue.
Harada was next. The veteran captain studied Sendo with sharp eyes as he stepped in. He's tough. But his rhythm's cracking. One mistake, and I'll punish it.
First pitch—fastball on the corner. Harada didn't swing. Ball.
Second pitch—slider. Harada fouled it back.
The battle dragged, Harada fouling off pitch after pitch, forcing Sendo deeper into the count.
Finally—crack! A sharp liner screamed toward short. Kominato Ryousuke dove, glove flashing, snagging it cleanly. He popped up and fired to first. Out!
The Seidou dugout erupted.
But Sendo didn't celebrate. His chest heaved, his breath ragged. His teammates could see it—every pitch was costing him more now.
The third batter grounded out to Masuko at third, ending the inning.
"Three up, three down," the umpire called.
Sendo trudged back to the dugout, sweat dripping from his jaw.
Sawamura leaned forward, his voice a mix of admiration and worry. "He's… still holding them off."
Miyuki crouched beside Sendo, handing him a towel. His smile was faint but encouraging. "Nice work. But you're burning through everything. Can you hold out?"
Sendo wiped his face, eyes blazing despite his fatigue. "I'm not leaving this mound."
Kataoka's stern gaze studied him. The coach didn't speak—just gave a single nod. Show me. Prove you can carry this weight.
Bottom of the 7th – Seidou at Bat
But while Sendo fought to stay afloat, Mei Narumiya strode to the mound like it was still the first inning. His uniform was pristine, his motion fluid, his velocity untouched.
Kuramochi led off, crouching low, eyes flashing. "Time to rattle the prince."
First pitch—fastball, perfectly placed on the edge. Kuramochi swung—missed.
"Che…!" He grit his teeth, stepped back in, but two pitches later he was gone, struck out swinging.
From the Inashiro dugout, a player grinned. "See? Mei hasn't lost an inch."
Carlos leaned back against the bench railing. "That's our ace. Even late, he only gets sharper."
Next up: Ryousuke Kominato. The senior's calm eyes tracked Mei's every move, but even he could only foul off two pitches before Mei froze him with a curveball that broke like glass. Strikeout.
Miyuki followed, but despite working the count, he too fell victim to Mei's precision. A blistering fastball painted the inside corner. Strike three.
The inning ended with Mei fanning the side. He walked off the mound without a word, expression cool, as if nothing about this duel bothered him.
On Seidou's bench, whispers spread.
"He's still that strong even in the seventh…""His stamina's insane."
Sendo sat silently, watching. His fists clenched. That's… the gap. Between me and him.
Top of the 8th – The Wall Appears
By now, Sendo's fatigue was impossible to ignore. His shoulders slumped, his legs felt heavy, and his pitches lost their edge.
The Inashiro bench noticed immediately.
"This is it. He's done.""Time to finish it."
The first batter of the inning slapped a grounder through the infield for a single.
The second followed with a sharp liner to right. Two on, no outs.
The Inashiro dugout came alive, fists pumping. Harada barked from the bench, "Don't let him breathe! Push!"
Sendo tightened his grip on the ball. Stay… stay strong.
But the next hitter cracked a fastball into left-center. One runner scored. Another raced home.
"Safe! Two runs!"
The Inashiro bench exploded in cheers.
Scoreboard: Inashiro 2 – Seidou 0.
Sendo's chest heaved as Miyuki called time and jogged to the mound.
"Breathe," Miyuki said, mask in hand, voice calm but firm. "You're rattled. One out at a time."
"I… I know," Sendo muttered, sweat dripping.
Coach Kataoka stood at the dugout rail, arms crossed. He could see it—Sendo was spent. But still, he didn't move.
This experience… he needs it. Even if he breaks, it's worth it.
Sendo battled, managing to strike out the next batter with sheer willpower. The dugout cheered, but the damage had been done.
Another single threatened more runs, but Seidou's defense held, turning a sharp double play to escape the inning.
Still, the scoreboard glared: Inashiro 2, Seidou 0.
Bottom of the 8th – Mei's Absolute Authority
Seidou needed an answer. But standing tall on the mound, Mei Narumiya gave them nothing.
Masuko, leading off, swung hard but only managed a weak groundout.
The next batter, Shirasu, tried to bunt for a hit. Mei pounced off the mound like a panther, scooping and firing to first with impossible quickness. Out.
Two down.
Sawamura, cheering from the bench, clenched his fists. "Come on, someone! Just one hit!"
But Mei's pitches only grew sharper. The third batter flailed helplessly at a biting slider. Strike three.
The inning ended in silence from Seidou's dugout, the weight of Mei's dominance pressing down on them.
Meanwhile, Inashiro's bench was electric.
"Perfect, Mei!""He hasn't given them anything all game!"
Carlos grinned. "That's the prince for you. Untouchable."
Mei tugged his cap lower as he walked off the mound, expression calm, not even glancing at the Seidou hitters.
The eighth inning ended.
On Seidou's bench, Sendo sat with his glove in his lap, his chest rising and falling, body screaming from the effort. He had held on as long as he could, but the gap between him and Mei was clear for all to see.
Still—he hadn't been pulled.
And as the game moved into its final inning, the freshman ace knew one thing:
This was the kind of wall he had to face if he wanted to stand at the top.