The count was two balls, no strikes.
Kadota Masaaki stood in the batter's box, feeling the cornered. He never expected to be in such a tight spot against a first-year junior.
Usually pretty low-key, he hadn't faced this kind of challenge before.
But he trusted his skills.
As long as he could see the ball clearly, he was confident he could hit it.
He knew Takumi's Spiral ball was special—he'd seen that yesterday.
Still, he believed that as long as they were on the field together, he could handle it.
Until now.
The 130 km/h four-seam Straight ball was tougher than he thought.
Only when he was actually up to bat did he notice how much the ball moved.
It wasn't just fast—the tailing action was sharp.
That made it really hard to hit well.
Behind Takumi stood his teammates in the field.
Kadota knew how reliable they were.
If the ball wasn't hit well enough into the field, those guys would catch it easily.
If the Straight ball was this tricky, the Spiral ball would be even harder.
For this last pitch, Takumi could throw either one.
Kadota had to be ready.
'Stay calm,' he told himself.
Now more than ever, he needed to keep his cool.
If his mind got scattered, chances of hitting the ball would be even tougher.
Just as he was thinking this, Takumi on the mound had already taken his stance.
Compared to yesterday, his pitching now felt completely different.
Whoosh!
The ball shot over like a bullet.
Straight ball!
Kadota judged quickly and swung the bat.
Ping!
The ball went high into the air.
Their tall second baseman saw it coming and made a smooth, powerful leap.
Like a fish jumping out of water, he moved gracefully.
Snap!
The glove caught the ball solidly.
"Out!" Coach Kataoka, acting as the main umpire, called immediately.
The first-year players watching cheered, their excitement growing.
"Nice!" one exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Two outs in a row!" another shouted with excitement.
Seidō's players were known for their strong hitters.
Their offense was top-notch—not just in West Tokyo, but across the country.
But now, facing a first-year junior, they looked a bit stuck.
Two outs back to back.
"You two, even if you're letting your junior win on purpose, do you have to make it so obvious?" Azuma Kiyokuni snapped, frustration clear in his voice.
"If this keeps up, how are we supposed to make it to Koshien? How can we lead the nation?" he pressed, his disappointment deepening.
As the team's leader, his words carried weight.
A lot of players joined Seidō because of its reputation.
Even though they hadn't made it to Koshien for four years straight, they were still one of the top teams in the country.
For a team like theirs, if they weren't aiming for Koshien and national dominance, then what was the point?
The players naturally believed that Seidō should be that kind of team.
"Azuma-senpai, watch out. That guy seems honest, but he's pretty clever underneath," Miyuki Kazuya warned, still bothered by how Takumi had tricked him yesterday.
He spoke up at just the right moment, helping Azuma zero in on Takumi.
"Is that so?" Azuma replied, with a hint of surprise.
He'd already noticed Takumi's pitching was something special.
His words were meant to lift the team's spirits, which had dipped a little.
As for whether Takumi was cunning? He hadn't really noticed that.
"Honestly, coming from you, that doesn't mean much," he shot back.
Whether Takumi was clever or not, Miyuki was definitely not someone to underestimate.
Usually, Miyuki didn't show much respect to the seniors.
Azuma had long figured out Miyuki's sharp nature and wasn't planning to take advice from him.
"That's just your reputation talking. Who told you, kid, that your own reputation's any better?" Second-year Isashiki Jun sneered with a grin.
"Azuma-senpai, you should teach that kid a lesson," he added, eyes gleaming with challenge.
As a first-year rookie, Takumi's performance was definitely impressive—and maybe a little intimidating.
The person Isashiki looked up to most was Azuma.
From his point of view, as long as Azuma-senpai stepped up, handling Takumi would be a piece of cake.
"Of course," Azuma declared confidently, his words setting the tone and quietly raising the stakes for himself.
As the team's cleanup hitter and one of the best sluggers in Tokyo, it would be embarrassing if he didn't make a solid hit.
He stepped into the batter's box.
With his broad build, he looked like a mountain as he settled in.
Raising the bat high, he fixed an intense gaze on Takumi.
He didn't say anything, but his stance said it all. 'If you've got the guts, throw the ball!'
He was ready to blast the next pitch with lightning speed.
Takigawa, crouched behind the plate, could feel the intensity coming from Azuma.
As the team's leader, aiming for Koshien, Azuma had been in top form lately.
His hitting had been impressive—almost like he was cheating.
Whether in team practice or official games, he had hit multiple home runs.
Even Takigawa, watching from behind the plate, could feel the intense pressure Azuma brought.
Takumi must be feeling it too, right?
Takigawa looked up, ready to give the signal.
But to his surprise, facing a player like Azuma, Takumi's expression remained calm.
He didn't seem the least bit fazed by the pressure.
"This kid…"
Both Takigawa and Azuma exchanged glances, clearly noticing it.
Takumi on the mound looked way too relaxed.
It was like he already had everything figured out.
"You really think you can strike me out?" Azuma challenged, a spark of determination igniting in his eyes.
He was set on hitting the ball—he had to take this guy down.
"Alright, let's see what you've got!" he fired back, ready for the ball.