The second Takumi stepped into the batter's box, a deafening cheer exploded.
The players in the dugout and the fans in the stands were incredibly loud, then seemed almost embarrassed by how loud they were.
The students in the stands glanced at each other, looking towards Seidō's dugout in disbelief.
As a top national powerhouse, Seidō's students usually supported the team, but this felt different. They understood team pride, but this was something else.
The second and third-year players of Seidō were especially rowdy today. Their excitement was a bit much, making everyone wonder how Takumi had won over so many upperclassmen so quickly.
"He really is something, isn't he, Sayuri-chan?" the girl in the blue dress chirped, nudging her friend with a playful grin.
Nearby, Kuramochi Yōichi, just as enthusiastic, cupped his hands and yelled at him, "Alright, Takumi-kun, show 'em what you've got!"
Since he couldn't play on the First String himself, he was putting all his energy into cheering for Takumi.
Back in the Seidō dugout, the upperclassmen were just as surprised.
If they remembered correctly, Takumi had only played in one official game, and it was on a weekday with a small crowd.
The team had been hoping for a more exciting start to the season.
The timing hadn't been great, and Takumi's debut had been pretty much overlooked.
How had he gotten so much attention now?
"How'd he get so many fans?" Azuma Kiyokuni, the team's cleanup hitter, muttered enviously to himself.
From second base, he could see the whole stadium, and he couldn't help but be surprised.
It had taken him a whole Summer Tournament to make the First String and get noticed, and it wasn't until Autumn that he'd finally built up a following.
Yet this kid, in just one game, had done what it took him a whole Summer Tournament to do.
The thought made his blood boil.
Azuma crouched lower, his muscles tense. As the team's famous "Metabolic-senpai," he was ready to run to third at the first chance he got.
'You've got everyone's attention now, so you'd better make it count,' Azuma grumbled to himself, trying to mess with the pitcher's head. 'Because if you do, you'll be hearing from me later…'
But Natsume, standing on the pitcher's mound, didn't seem to care about Azuma at all.
He totally ignored Azuma's little attempts to get a rise out of him.
He was sure Azuma wouldn't try to steal, so he kept his eyes on Takumi.
Natsume wasn't going to underestimate him just because he was a rookie.
During Seidō's last game, Takumi had made an awesome debut in the Summer Tournament.
He'd hit the ball every single time, with a perfect batting average.
The other team couldn't do anything to stop him.
Because of that amazing performance, a bunch of reporters had called him out in their reports, and he'd become famous overnight.
Now, in only his second game, the stands were packed with fans who were there just to see him.
Two outs, runner on second.
It wasn't the best situation for the team, but for him, it was his perfect chance to shine.
'One swing to win it all, one miss to lose it all,' Natsume thought, a sly smile spreading across his lips.
This was exactly what he'd planned.
Even his teammates didn't know that he'd walked Azuma on purpose, not because he was scared, but because he wanted to face Takumi.
He was sure that if this young star failed, Seidō's spirit would be crushed.
Believing that, he gripped the ball as hard as he could and threw it.
Whoosh!
The ball shot toward Takumi with incredible force.
He'd seen this pitch a million times from the dugout, but it was totally different from the batter's box.
He quietly activated his Sharingan, and the ball became vividly clear.
Even with his Sharingan on full blast, the pitch barely seemed to slow down.
It was still hauling at almost half its speed.
What was going on?
His heart pounded in his chest.
With his Sharingan, he should've seen every little thing about the pitch.
But something was off.
There was something different about this one.
Before he could figure it out, the ball had already zipped by.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
A simple fastball, right down the middle.
Takumi hadn't even swung?
The people who had seen him bat before looked at each other, confused.
It was clear their opponent was playing a whole different game today.
"See? Natsume-senpai's got him right where he wants him!" one player cheered, pumping his fist.
"That's the same kid who had a perfect batting average last game, right?" another chimed in, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Just goes to show how amazing Natsume-kun is!" a third exclaimed, totally impressed.
The Hachiya Oji dugout buzzed with excitement.
Their ace intentionally walked Azuma, confident he could handle the rest.
Even that "miracle boy," Takumi, looked like he was playing right into their hands.
"The miracle ends here," Natsume murmured, full of triumph.
Everyone watched with bated breath.
He fired an inside pitch.
Outside, then inside – setting him up for his slider.
Against Akikawa's pitcher, that'd be overkill.
With his pitching rhythm locked in, he felt invincible.
Whoosh!
The ball hissed through the air, a white blur against the endless blue.
Takumi shuffled his feet a bit in the batter's box, just a half-step back.
Hmm?
Natsume noticed the little move, a weird feeling creeping in.
Then, Takumi swung hard.
Ping!
The ball took off, dropping neatly into the gap.