Takumi's heart was pounding, hands shaking like crazy.
Standing on the mound felt unreal, like hitting the jackpot.
He'd basically given up on pitching in the early innings, based on Coach Kataoka's original plan.
Then, outta nowhere, this chance just fell into his lap.
Even though Kataoka told him to hold back and not go all out, he just couldn't do it.
Whether he held anything back was up in the air, but he was definitely gonna make a statement out there.
If he could just crush it on the mound, the team wouldn't have any reason to hold him back, and he'd get more chances to pitch.
"They're putting in a first-year?" someone wondered aloud, scratching their head.
"Are they nuts?" another one added, shaking his head in disbelief.
Even though Seidō was way ahead, their opponents weren't giving up.
Switching to a new player now was a total gamble.
Couldn't they see the fire in the Hachiya Oji player's eyes?
Part of them was probably ticked off.
Their players must have felt like Seidō was looking down on them, using them as a warmup act.
But another part of them saw a chance to turn things around.
Facing Yoshida had been a nightmare for their batters.
People were saying Seidō's ace had flaws, but they couldn't find any when they were up against him.
His pitching was powerful, fast, and precise; they could barely even touch the ball, let alone get a hit.
And even if they somehow made contact, they still had to get past Seidō's iron wall of a defense.
The Hachiya Oji players were starting to lose hope; scoring against Yoshida felt like a pipe dream.
If things kept going the way they were, it was game over.
But then, Seidō threw everyone for a loop.
They put in a first-year?
"Wait, is that the kid who hits like crazy?" someone asked, sounding a bit unsure.
"Yeah, that's Yamamoto Takumi," another confirmed, with a nod.
He was pretty well-known, especially for a Seidō first-year.
His batting had been impossible to ignore.
When the Hachiya Oji players started talking about his plays, a feeling of unease crept in.
That's just how it goes in any competition; a tough opponent makes you uneasy.
And he definitely had that effect.
The Hachiya Oji players were definitely walking on eggshells when they talked about him.
"Okay, but batting's not the same as pitching. Just because he can swing a bat doesn't mean he can throw," one pointed out, skeptically.
"And, let's be real, he doesn't always get a hit," another chimed in, with a hint of amusement.
The last time Takumi faced Natsume, their ace, he struck out.
Now, the Hachiya Oji players finally had something to latch onto.
The stands were mostly filled with Seidō fans.
When Takumi stepped onto the mound, there were some surprised looks, but not much of a reaction overall.
The Hachiya Oji players, on the other hand, suddenly perked up, yelling all kinds of stuff.
"Hey, rookie, show us what you've got!" one jeered, a nasty grin spreading across their face.
"Our batters have seen it all!" another bragged, puffing out his chest.
They were shouting with newfound confidence.
And now, their cleanup hitter was heading to the plate.
Even though their team was known for being academic, their cleanup hitter was a total beast with a cannon for an arm.
He looked like he could launch any pitch into orbit.
The dugout exploded as the players jumped to their feet, lining the railing to cheer him on.
"Knock it out of here!" one roared, full of energy.
"Show that rookie what we're made of!" another whooped, equally enthusiastic.
They were clearly fired up.
Meanwhile, back in the Seidō dugout, everyone seemed completely unfazed.
No one bothered to stand up and cheer for their rookie pitcher.
They were all huddled in their seats, looking like they were about to freeze.
It was like they already knew how the game was going to play out.
But only those close enough could see the barely-there smiles they were trying to hide.
Seeing their opponents thinking they actually had a chance, they could barely keep from cracking up.
Their opponents had no clue that Kataoka had never planned on easing up, not even for a second.
This wasn't some kind of experiment to groom new talent.
He wanted a clean and decisive victory.
So, there's no way he'd put someone out there who wasn't up to the task.
Their opponents were missing the whole point.
Takumi, standing on the mound, definitely noticed the other team's reaction.
But he wasn't going to let it throw him off.
He locked his eyes on Takigawa's glove.
The signal was clear: surprise them.
Takumi nodded, knuckles white around the ball, and went into his windup.
His weight shifted, and his arm snapped around like a whip.
He was putting everything he had into that throw.
The Hachiya Oji players were caught completely off guard.
They hadn't expected such a polished delivery from the Seidō freshman.
But it was just a delivery, right?
Nothing too special...
Just then, the ball zipped toward the plate.
Boom!
The ball exploded toward the plate.
The Hachiya Oji batter stood frozen, like a deer in headlights.
He didn't even flinch.
Snap!
The ball slammed into Takigawa's glove.
"Strike!"
A clean catch.
"Whoa, what the hell was that?!"
It took a second after Takumi's pitch for anyone to say anything.
"Was that a spiral?" someone asked, in disbelief.
"I've never seen one thrown like that before!" another marvelled, their eyes wide with amazement.