He had never imagined he would receive such a reception upon returning to the dugout.
While on the field, he had been completely absorbed in the game, unable to think of anything else.
It wasn't until he left the field and found his teammates surrounding him like stars around the moon that he suddenly realized what he had just accomplished.
Facing one of the top four teams in West Tokyo, and with their team's three core batters stepping up to the plate, he had retired them one after another!
This performance was unquestionably MVP-worthy.
It's just that such praise isn't common in baseball.
He had briefly regretted not being able to test the full power of his Spiral Ball against Nanamori's fifth batter.
Now, that seemed insignificant.
Compared to his performance on the field, it was just a minor interlude.
"We still have three innings left and are down by three runs. We can turn this around!" someone declared with determination.
Seidō had never been short on fighting spirit.
Previously, because their pitcher wasn't strong enough, even bold declarations went unspoken.
But the situation was clearly different now.
From the current state of the game, a comeback was within reach.
"The Ace of Nanamori has already thrown countless pitches. He must be drained. The moment we seize the chance, we'll give it everything we've got!" another urged passionately.
With such a taxing pitching style as the Spiral Ball, even a powerhouse like Midori couldn't keep it up forever.
Everyone nodded in agreement—there was still an opening to exploit.
The Seidō batter who had just stepped up was brimming with determination.
His unwavering resolve to send the ball flying was etched plainly across his face.
"Partner, I owe you an apology," Miyuki kazuya confessed earnestly.
He stepped forward, extending his hand with a sincere smile.
When Takumi first took the field, not only others but even Miyuki Kazuya himself had harbored doubts about his potential.
Pitchers who were dominant in middle school often struggle when they enter high school, especially at prestigious schools.
There are exceptions, of course, but they are exceedingly rare.
What Takumi's situation had been before? He didn't know.
But one thing he was certain of: Takumi had no prior experience pitching in high school.
As the substitute catcher for the First String, he observed the team's pitchers every day.
He could say with confidence that he had never seen Takumi pitch in the bullpen, let alone on the field.
What kind of performance could a pitcher with no high school game or even practice experience possibly deliver on the mound?
Now, it seemed he had gravely underestimated him.
His assumptions had loomed like a towering mountain, blinding him to just how extraordinary his partner truly was today.
Even if Takumi could only throw the Spiral Ball, his prowess among pitchers was undeniably impressive.
'This summer might be a bit rough, but by fall, he can definitely challenge Tanba-senpai,' Miyuki Kazuya mused, a surge of excitement bubbling within him.
By autumn, not only would he challenge his respected senior Takigawa Chris Yū for his position, but this peer might also compete for the Ace spot.
Perhaps, they would become an unstoppable golden duo in the near future.
Having rejected Narumiya Mei to join Seidō, he would be lying if he claimed he had no regrets.
But at this moment, he felt none.
Their future Ace at Seidō might even surpass Narumiya Mei.
Takumi reached out and clasped Miyuki Kazuya's hand firmly.
"That's not your fault. I didn't expect it myself," he acknowledged candidly.
He spoke with genuine humility, though everyone sensed he was downplaying his own talent.
After all, given what had just happened, who would believe that this was his first time pitching on a mound?
The game continued, but Seidō's offense struggled.
They firmly believed Midori was at his limit.
He definitely couldn't last much longer.
What they needed now was to overpower the exhausted pitcher and Nanamori's relief pitcher.
However, to their disappointment, the pitcher did not collapse.
Although his condition was clearly poor, with large beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, the baseballs he threw still carried extraordinary power.
The Seidō batters gritted their teeth and swung their bats, barely making contact with the ball.
Ping!
The ball bounced sharply off the ground.
Nanamori's fielders, clearly well-trained, reacted instantly.
Seeing the ball bounce, their third baseman rushed forward, scooped it up, and quickly threw to first base.
Snap!
"Out!!"
One out, no one on base.
At this moment, Nanamori's coach showed only a faint smile.
"Your hidden Ace caught us off guard," he acknowledged calmly, "but we will still win this game today."
The score stood at 2–5.
Just over two innings remained.
Nanamori still held an overwhelming advantage.
"As long as we keep them scoreless, victory is ours," he declared confidently.
"Midori, summon every ounce of strength you've built up," he urged firmly.
A bulky player's endurance may be limited, but the raw power packed into such a physique is immense.
Just like Midori now, facing Seidō's batters, he had been locked in a fierce battle.
He was so exhausted that he no longer felt the fatigue.
Yet even in this state, the power behind his pitches did not wane.
Not only the first batter, but also the second and third batters all returned empty-handed.
These third-year seniors from Seidō were fighting hard.
The strength they showed today surpassed even their usual abilities.
Yet despite this, they still couldn't hit him.
It was frustrating, but baseball has always been this way.
Hard work doesn't always guarantee results.
Just like at Seidō, where many players practice tirelessly for three years, only to never make it onto the Second String.
If it weren't for the system, Takumi might have faced the same fate.
Three outs, side retired.
The game moved into the top of the eighth inning, with the score still 2–5.
Though Nanamori's players had been in despair earlier—if even their core batters couldn't hit, how could anyone else hope?
Yet at this moment, their teammates were performing exceptionally.
It sparked a flicker of hope in the hearts of those batters.
Could they turn things around and deliver a different performance?