Seidō's baseball field suddenly transformed into a sea of joy.
It began with the Second String players.
They raised their arms excitedly, jumping and cheering.
"We won!"
"We won!"
Especially the third-year seniors, tears welling in their eyes.
They knew deep down this was their last game. They had expected to lose.
But unexpectedly, the tables had turned.
Among the spectators, a first-year rookie who had just joined the team scratched his head, bewildered.
"Is it over?" he asked hesitantly.
Why did he feel their offense wasn't finished yet?
After all, Takumi, who had just hit the ball, had safely reached second base.
If the game continued, they might even score another run.
"Don't be naive. Baseball isn't just about who scores more runs; the key is to win," a kind teammate explained patiently.
"The three runs Yamamoto-san drove in completely flipped the situation. Now we lead by one run. Nanamori has no more chances to bat, so naturally, we've won."
The teammate spoke with pride, even though he wasn't playing now and hadn't made the Second String roster.
But Takumi did.
Watching the rookie, the same age as them, shine on the field.
They felt as if it were themselves out there.
The First String team also paused their training when the game ended.
They faced the Second String players in the practice game and applauded them.
Coach Kataoka Tesshin removed his umpire's helmet, preparing to shake hands with Nanamori's coach.
After the initial excitement, Seidō's players gradually settled down.
Everyone felt deeply satisfied with their victory.
They also prepared to bid farewell to their opponents.
"Thank you for the game!"
"Thank you for the game!!"
The Nanamori players, after their initial shock, gradually regained their composure.
They shared wry smiles as they shook hands with their opponents.
"We thought we were at least a top-four team, but we never imagined losing to your Second String," one admitted ruefully.
Nanamori's coach had originally hoped his team would secure a clean, decisive victory.
Though the opponent was merely Seidō's Second String, they proved to be a formidable powerhouse.
Defeating such a team would have bolstered their confidence and strengthened them for future matches.
Instead, it had all backfired.
Realizing they couldn't even defeat Seidō's Second String struck a heavy blow to their spirits.
How would they face the powerhouses of West Tokyo moving forward?
"We're not all Second String members; Kazuya-senpai and Masaaki-senpai are from the First String," Kuramochi Yoichi remarked with a light chuckle, nodding toward Miyuki Kazuya.
But his attempt to comfort only made Nanamori's players want to crawl into a hole even more.
Only two First String players?
They had expected at least three or four.
"How did you manage to hit it into that gap at the end?" Iida demanded, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Takumi's hand was gripped tightly.
Clearly, even now, Iida, Nanamori's relief pitcher, was struggling to accept the outcome.
He had planned so well, and in their previous encounter, he had clearly defeated Takumi.
But just when he thought he had been reborn and helped his team win.
He was struck hard by Takumi, instantly reverting to his original state.
"You mean that pitch? How could I stumble over the same move twice?" Takumi replied with a confident smile.
Huh?
Iida frowned, deep in thought.
When Takumi didn't mention it, he realized he truly hadn't noticed.
His method of getting him out the second time had already been used in their first confrontation.
So the opponent had seen through it, which was why he took that step forward before hitting.
It was because of that step that the ball traveled so much farther.
His teammates couldn't stop the ball immediately.
"I lost," he admitted quietly.
"Victory and defeat are part of the game; you don't need to take it to heart. I look forward to playing against you again," Takumi replied with a light chuckle.
He found this pitcher named Iida quite intriguing.
If Iida could organize his pitching into a solid system, they might truly face each other again in the future.
"Definitely," Iida affirmed with determination.
Even if young players are deeply disappointed, they bounce back quickly.
Even if this game hit them hard, they would put on a brave face and reflect once back home.
As the players from both teams said their goodbyes, the coaches also shook hands.
"I really envy you," Nanamori's coach confessed with a mix of admiration and regret.
"You're too kind. We still have many shortcomings…" Coach Kataoka Tesshin responded humbly, his voice filled with genuine sincerity.
Although in recent years he had assembled strong teams that competed for a Koshien spot every year,
except for the first year, he had never succeeded in the following seasons.
This made him truly realize that the problem wasn't just with the team—
perhaps he, as the coach, also had significant issues.
"I understand your frustration," he acknowledged thoughtfully. "A few years without making it to Koshien isn't unusual. In a place like Tokyo, even giving your all doesn't guarantee success. The reason you haven't made it may not lie in strength or strategy, but simply a lack of a little luck."
As he spoke, Nanamori's coach cast a glance toward Takumi.
"It seems your luck is shining brightly this year," he remarked with a hint of admiration.
Coach Kataoka Tesshin met his gaze with a knowing smile.
He didn't need the other coach to point it out—he had long recognized Takumi's brilliance.
In today's game, his performance was undeniably outstanding.
First, he got a crucial hit that saved the team's face.
Then, he drove in three RBIs, completely turning the game around.
Not to mention, he pitched the closing innings flawlessly, giving Nanamori no chance to counterattack.
"For a team to win, strong offense and defense are essential. But above all, there must be a true Ace," Nanamori's coach declared solemnly before boarding the bus.
Though he didn't say it outright,
how could Coach Kataoka Tesshin not grasp that he was referring to Takumi?
He was their team's luck—
and their future Ace!!