Kawakami Norifumi's pitching impressed both club presidents of Seidō.
Takashima Rei, especially, praised his recent pitch highly.
He was competitive not only among the current Second String players, but even within the First String.
"After this game, promote him to Second String first. Let him get more playtime, and by the end of the Summer Tournament, he should be ready for further advancement," Kazuyoshi Ōta declared decisively.
As club presidents, their focus wasn't just on the First String—they also had to plan for the team's future growth.
With that in mind, Takashima glanced thoughtfully at Takumi, who looked startled in the batter's box.
Having Kawakami pitch to him was definitely harsh.
But there was no other way; to make him face reality, his illusions had to be shattered.
Baseball wasn't his only path, especially for someone like him with plenty of options.
Not just other sports—even becoming a star, given his looks, was a real possibility.
Of course, if he could bounce back after this, it wouldn't be a bad thing for him, either.
On the mound, Kawakami, having just secured a strike, was in surprisingly good form.
His performance today had been solid; although he'd given up three hits, most were due to the fielder's slow reactions.
For himself, while it wasn't perfect, he'd give it at least a ninety-five.
Now facing Takumi, he felt even more confident.
He could already see himself in the Second String.
He wasn't a prodigy like Miyuki Kazuya, and he didn't expect to jump straight to First String.
He aimed to climb steadily, step by step, eventually joining the First String and becoming the Ace.
That was the path he wanted.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and delivered the second pitch.
Whoosh!
This time, the ball seemed to fly even faster.
Takumi stood in the batter's box, still shaken by the first pitch. He now fully understood that, on his own, there was no way he could hit Kawakami's fastball.
He couldn't even swing where the ball was going.
He just couldn't handle the speed.
The gap between him and Kawakami was huge.
Even though Kawakami was a minor player with little presence at Seidō, his skill was unmatched.
Why had he ever considered giving up and slacking off?
Because no matter how hard he worked, he couldn't catch up.
That was the most discouraging part.
But he was different now.
He lacked over ten years of training and the solid foundation and experience of his teammates.
But he had a secret weapon.
"Sharingan, activate!"
With the Sharingan activated, the world around him seemed to shift and transform.
Kawakami's pitching, once flawless and overwhelming, now looked different.
It wasn't the pitch itself, but the placement that had kept him from swinging.
Now, the ball seemed to slow down dramatically.
He could not only track its path clearly, but he could also pinpoint where it would land.
The first pitch was an off-speed throw; the second, a straight fastball.
Seeing everything so clearly, a surge of determination flooded his heart.
This almost-supernatural vision was unlike anything he'd experienced before.
'I can hit it!' he thought, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
Gripping the bat tightly, he swung the moment the ball crossed into the strike zone.
Buzz!
The bat swung through the air, and just as he thought he'd make contact, he realized his swing was late.
The ball zipped past in front of his eyes.
Thwack!
He swung and missed.
"Strike!!"
The count was two strikes, zero balls.
In just two pitches, he was in a tough spot.
From the dugout came frustrated cries.
"What kind of hitting is that?"
"Can you swing any slower? By the time you connect, the sun would have set."
"You're so slow, you couldn't even catch a cold!"
...
They spoke without holding back.
But right now, he didn't care.
All his focus was on the pitcher.
Failed?
Having just missed the ball, he was stunned.
Even with the Sharingan activated, he hadn't hit it?
If the Uchiha clan knew this, they'd be furious enough to rise from their graves.
Where was the problem?
He quickly realized the key issue.
His eyes were fine; the real problem was that his body wasn't syncing with them.
With the Sharingan sharpening his vision, he could effortlessly track the ball's trajectory and pinpoint its exact landing spot.
There was no flaw in his sight.
In fact, the ball landed exactly where he'd predicted.
In theory, knowing where the ball would land should have made it easy to connect with the ball.
But the problem was his body was too slow.
Even though he saw where the ball would fall, by the time his bat swung through that spot, the ball was already gone.
'One more chance! This time, I absolutely cannot miss,' he vowed fiercely.
Before he could dwell on it further, Kawakami delivered the third pitch.
He didn't waste the strike count and aimed straight for the strike zone.
After two inside pitches, his third was placed on the outside corner.
This inside-outside combination created a real challenge.
Takashima, watching intently from the dugout, suddenly brightened with admiration.
"Beautiful!" she exclaimed.
Not only was the pitch flawless, but the strategy behind it was brilliant.
Judging by the results, Kawakami was already a mature pitcher.
Unlike Takumi, the players on his team had already turned away, not wanting to see him fail.
But just as they looked away, a sharp sound cut through the air.
Ping!
The crisp crack of bat meeting ball.
"He hit it?" someone gasped.
Everyone whipped their heads back in disbelief.
When they looked again, they saw the ball soaring through the air.
The fielders hadn't expected it either; by the time they reacted and scrambled to catch it, it was too late.
The ball landed, bounced, and rolled deep into the outfield.
The runner on second, already prepared, sped past third base and dashed home.
"On base!"
"One run scored!"
"Score tied 5–5."
Everything happened so fast that the Red Team barely registered what had just happened.
"How did he even hit that?" someone whispered in stunned amazement.