The sky had begun to dim, streaks of orange bleeding into the horizon as the practice game reached its final act. Both benches were quiet, though for very different reasons.
On Inashiro's side, confidence filled the dugout. They had Mei on the mound, the score tilted in their favor, and the game all but sealed.
On Seidou's side, tension lingered. Their freshman pitcher stood battered, sweat pouring, body crying out for relief. But still—he stood on the mound.
Top of the 9th – Sendo's Last Stand
"Akira," Kataoka said firmly, before the inning began. His deep voice carried through the dugout. "You will finish this. No matter what happens."
Every head turned.
"Coach…!" Sawamura jumped up. "He's already exhausted!"
"Exactly," Kataoka said, eyes unwavering. "This is the trial he must endure. If he cannot stand here, he cannot stand at Koshien."
Sendo clenched his fist. His chest burned, his legs heavy, but something in him lit at those words. He's not pulling me… He wants me to carry it.
Miyuki gave a small nod, his mask dangling from his hand. "You heard him. Let's finish this the right way."
Leadoff hitter: Inashiro's eighth batter.
Sendo dug into the mound. His fingers gripped the seams, his eyes narrowed.
One more inning…
The first pitch—a fastball. Slower than before, but still sharp enough. The batter swung, popping it foul.
The next pitch—a curveball. Hung too high. The bat cracked.
"Base hit!"
Inashiro's dugout cheered as the runner reached first.
From behind the plate, Miyuki called time, walking to the mound. "Don't force the speed. Control, Akira. Trust the field behind you."
"...Got it."
Next batter: the ninth.
He squared to bunt, testing the rookie. Sendo fired low. The bunt dropped perfectly.
Masuko charged, scooped, fired to first. Out! But the runner advanced.
One out, man on second.
Inashiro's bench called out encouragement."Pressure him!""He's breaking!"
Sendo's breathing grew heavier, but his eyes still burned.
Top of the order: Carlos.
The crowd energy surged. Carlos spun his bat, grinning wide. "Freshman, I'll finish you off proper."
First pitch—fastball inside. Carlos didn't flinch. Ball one.
Second pitch—slider. Carlos crushed it foul down the line.
Third pitch—curveball low. Carlos lunged, sending a chopper toward short.
Ryousuke fielded cleanly, firing to first.
"OUT!"
But the runner advanced to third. Two outs, man on third.
Sendo wiped his face, chest heaving. His teammates' voices carried from the bench.
"Hold it, Sendo!""One more!"
Harada, the captain, stepped up.
His eyes bore into the mound. Calm, steady. "You've done well, freshman. But can you stop me here?"
The duel stretched pitch after pitch. Foul balls, fastballs just missing the zone, Harada refusing to give in.
Sendo's arm screamed, his legs wobbled. But he bit down, forced one more fastball.
Crack! A sharp liner to right—caught by Shirasu!
"OUT!"
Seidou's bench erupted in relief.
Three outs. No runs.
Sendo stumbled off the mound, nearly collapsing, but his teammates caught him.
"You did it!" Kuramochi shouted."Hell of a fight, rookie!" Masuko grinned.
Miyuki, though, simply said: "That was the weight of the ninth. Burn it into your body."
Kataoka's eyes lingered on the freshman. He didn't smile, but a glimmer of approval shone. You didn't crumble. That's enough for today.
Bottom of the 9th – Mei's Iron Curtain
Seidou's dugout buzzed with nervous energy. Their last chance. Two runs down. Against Narumiya Mei.
Kuramochi stepped to the plate first. His bat wagged low, his eyes fierce. "One hit, just one spark…"
First pitch—fastball. Strike.Second pitch—curveball. Strike.Third pitch—slider outside. Kuramochi chased. Strikeout.
He slammed his bat into the dirt. "Damn it!"
Inashiro's dugout cheered loudly. Mei didn't even blink, already waiting for the next hitter.
Ryousuke came up next. He tried patience, fouling off pitches, but Mei's fastball painted the corner. Strikeout looking.
Two outs. Silence fell over Seidou's side.
Last hope: Miyuki Kazuya.
He exhaled slowly, stepping into the box. At least take something from him…
The first pitch, a fastball, zipped inside. Ball one.The second, another fastball, perfectly placed. Strike one.
Miyuki fouled off the third, then the fourth, refusing to end quietly. The count went full.
Mei smirked faintly for the first time all game. He wound, delivered—a high fastball with late life.
Miyuki swung—missed.
"STRIKE THREE!"
Game over.
Inashiro erupted, their players swarming Mei at the mound.
Final score: Inashiro 2 – Seidou 0.
After the Match – Respect and Resolve
Both teams lined up, bowing in unison.
"Thank you for the game!"
After, the players mingled briefly near the foul lines.
Carlos slapped Sendo on the back, grinning. "Not bad, rookie. You had me in the first half."
Sendo gave a tired nod. "...Thanks."
Harada approached next. His eyes were sharp, but his words even. "You lasted longer than expected. Keep climbing. We'll see you again."
Sendo bowed deeply. "I'll be stronger next time."
Finally, Mei walked past. His gaze flicked briefly to Sendo, then away. "Too green." That was all he said.
But those words cut deepest.
In Seidou's dugout, the mood was heavy.
Kuramochi broke it with a groan. "Man, that guy's a monster…"
Masuko sighed. "We couldn't touch him. Not even once."
Miyuki crouched near Sendo, who sat drained, head down. "Don't let it crush you. You stood on the same field as Narumiya Mei. You saw the wall with your own eyes. That's the first step to climbing it."
Sawamura chimed in, voice loud as ever. "Yeah! And hey, you didn't lose control. That's way cooler than I could've done first year!"
The seniors gathered, patting Sendo on the shoulder, their words firm but kind.
Finally, Kataoka addressed the team. His voice was steady, commanding.
"Today, you witnessed the difference between potential and mastery. Sendo—your fire is real. But fire alone won't carry nine innings. Build your body. Sharpen your mind. Only then can you call yourself Seidou's ace."
Sendo looked up, sweat and dust streaking his face. His chest still burned, but his eyes glowed fiercely.
"I understand, Coach. I'll… I'll get stronger."
The team erupted in support, their voices filling the dimming field.
And though the scoreboard read defeat, in that moment, it felt like the start of something greater.