"Now's the time—I've won!" Iida declared confidently.
The young man on the pitcher's mound already envisioned himself claiming the number one jersey.
Who doesn't dream of becoming an Ace pitcher?
At that moment, Takumi stared intently at the incoming ball.
His heart pounded fiercely.
Despite his extreme fatigue, his body felt more alive than ever.
He could see the ball clearly, but if he hit it from this position, it would surely be caught by the opponent.
He could avoid this by adjusting his batting stance mid-swing.
However, changing stance on the fly and still making solid contact was clearly beyond his skill.
Even among Seidō's First String—known for its strong hitters—only a handful could pull off such a feat.
Naturally, he didn't dare wish for something he couldn't do himself.
But that didn't mean he had no strategy.
The opponent had set a pocket, waiting for him to fall right into it.
So why couldn't he tear apart that pocket beforehand?
He took a step forward, swinging the bat with the momentum of his stride.
He knew how risky this move was.
He hadn't fully mastered hitting on the move, but this was his only chance.
As his body surged forward, the bat sliced through the air with a sharp whistle.
Nanamori's catcher, crouched behind the plate, watched the bat swing farther and farther away, his pupils snapping open in alarm.
'This doesn't feel right!' he thought anxiously.
Before Takumi's bat even met the ball, the catcher barked urgently, "Get back!"
Though Takumi's power was limited, his timing and precision struck with deadly accuracy.
As a result, the baseballs he hit often soared great distances.
Now, by stepping forward, he increased the swing's acceleration, ensuring the ball would fly even farther.
Their carefully arranged pocket might catch nothing at all.
Although the catcher's warning came quickly, the players reactions weren't fast enough.
Ping!
By the time they heard the sound, the ball Takumi hit had already landed before their eyes.
Nanamori's fielders, spotting the soaring ball, lunged forward like hounds chasing a frisbee.
"You won't get past us!" one snapped fiercely.
"This game ends here today," another declared grimly.
Seidō had runners on all three bases.
Their eyes widened, tracking the ball's flight with bated breath.
As two Nanamori fielders charged toward the ball's landing spot, ignoring everything else, their hearts tightened with tension.
Could it be…?
Under everyone's anxious gaze, the ball flew straight toward the Nanamori fielder.
But unexpectedly, it showed no sign of dropping and kept soaring forward.
The two fielders, who had pounced like hounds, leapt up instantly.
"Stop it!" they shouted urgently.
They fixed their eyes on the ball, desperate to intercept it with their gloves.
But their gloves remained at least a meter away.
In the end, they could only watch in helpless disbelief as the ball soared over their heads.
Behind them stretched an open space.
"It went through!!" someone shouted breathlessly.
The Seidō players, who had been too tense moments before, suddenly remembered to cheer for Takumi.
At that moment, the team seemed to come alive again, arms waving excitedly.
"Long hit to the outfield!" one called out eagerly.
As the ball landed and bounced, the three Seidō runners on the bases sprinted forward frantically.
Miyuki Kazuya, originally on third base, dashed effortlessly toward home plate.
"Safe at home!"
"Seidō scores its fourth run."
The game was far from over.
Although the ball hadn't traveled very far, there was an open space ahead.
This meant Nanamori's fielders had to chase it down, pick it up, and throw it back.
There was plenty of time.
So much so that the runner originally on second base easily rounded third and reached home plate.
"Fifth run!"
As the second base runner crossed home plate, the players in Seidō's dugout erupted, unable to contain their excitement.
They sprang to their feet, shouting and cheering exuberantly.
"Hooray!" one exclaimed joyfully.
"We've tied the score!" another shouted triumphantly.
Though they hadn't secured a win yet, this tying run was enough to lift their spirits.
One must remember—their opponent was no ordinary team.
They were one of the top four teams in West Tokyo.
While Tokyo was a fiercely competitive zone, the top four teams in West Tokyo were on a different level.
Still, Seidō's players believed that even if their opponent competed in Tokyo's toughest leagues, they'd rank at least among the top sixteen.
Facing a team of this caliber, they had still managed to fight back.
And that feeling was undeniably exhilarating.
Especially for the third-year seniors who never made the First String, this was a perfect conclusion to their high school baseball careers.
"We are strong," one Nanamori player murmured with grudging respect.
The Nanamori fielder had already scooped up the ball and hurled it back.
Just when everyone thought the offensive play was over.
A figure, swift and fierce like a leopard, stepped onto third base.
He didn't stop but kept advancing.
The players in Seidō's dugout watched in stunned silence, their hearts leaping into their throats once again.
"That's way too reckless!" one gasped.
The opponent had already thrown the ball to second base, and their second baseman had caught it firmly.
Under those circumstances, charging home from third base was practically courting death.
Nanamori's coach, still reeling from losing two runs earlier, felt his spirit drain even further.
Yet, when he saw someone charging home now, he sprang up in alarm.
"Stop him!" he barked urgently.
The Nanamori second baseman hadn't expected it either; by the time realization hit, it was already half a second too late.
Still, he thought bitterly that Kuramochi Yoichi was courting death.
"Don't be so arrogant!" he snapped, swinging his arm with full force to throw the ball.
Whoosh!
The ball flew at incredible speed, covering the distance from second base to home plate in less than a second.
But in that brief moment, the leopard-like young man had already covered seven or eight meters.
Smack!
The moment Nanamori's catcher snatched the ball, one hand of the leopard-like runner had already touched home plate.
Coach Kataoka Tesshin, stationed behind the plate, couldn't suppress a satisfied smile.
"Safe!" he called out firmly.
"Another run!!!" someone shouted exuberantly.
The scoreboard flipped instantly from 3-5 to 6-5.
Takumi's single drove in three runs, boldly shifting the momentum and turning the tide of the game.