"Because his stance is so close to home plate, it completely shuts down the outside pitch," Yuki Tetsuya said calmly.
"When an inside pitch comes in at chest height, the swing space becomes extremely limited. A normal swing would miss."
"But if he swings early—"
"He can use the tip of the bat."
"And guide the ball to the right side of the infield."
As Seido's cleanup hitter, Yuki understood this hit immediately.
Soon after, the rest of the first-string players also grasped what had happened.
And once they did—
Pressure spread through them.
This first-year's batting ability was simply terrifying.
The only saving grace was that Ushijima Wakatoshi's long-range power hadn't fully developed yet.
If it had—
Seido's cleanup spot might not stay unchanged.
Coach Kataoka, standing behind the catcher, turned his gaze slightly toward Ushijima.
From a single pitch, he could already see it clearly.
Tanba had thrown a full-power inside fastball—his specialty in internal matches.
Yet Ushijima, with that extreme stance and posture, still drove the ball out.
A clean infield hit.
If this had been an official game—
With Ushijima's speed, or Kuramochi's, it would have easily turned into a double.
Though the ball landed in the infield, its velocity caused it to bounce hard and skip into right field.
A textbook infield double—for someone fast enough.
"Hoo…"
Tanba exhaled.
He truly hadn't expected that result.
Only now did he fully realize—
This first-year was no joke.
"…Why is the Yuki family like this?"
Tanba grumbled internally.
"One monster batter is already bad enough."
"Why does his cousin hit just as hard?"
"And why do both of them give off that same pressure?"
"…Even the aura color is blue?"
"Tch—so the stamina gets inherited and the color too?"
His complaints stayed locked in his own head.
At that moment, Catcher Miyauchi gave a clear signal.
Breaking ball.
Tanba immediately understood.
They'd all seen Ushijima's batting during practice.
Fastballs were his favorite.
Against fastballs in the 120–129 km/h range, his batting average was nearly perfect.
He could even control where the ball went—something completely abnormal.
Against 140–149 km/h fastballs, his success rate dropped below fifty percent.
As for pitches above 150 km/h—
No one had tested that yet.
But breaking balls were a different story.
Against breaking balls in the 110–129 km/h range, Ushijima's batting average was under thirty percent.
And Tanba's strongest weapon—
Was exactly that.
His large vertical curveball.
It reached up to 120 km/h.
Not quite 130, but fast enough.
That pitch was why he was known as the phantom of internal battles.
"Then I'll use it."
Tanba set his stance.
His right hand tightened around the ball.
Step.
Twist.
Release.
The baseball left his hand at 120 km/h, carving a dramatic arc through the air toward Miyauchi's mitt.
Ushijima saw it instantly.
A curve.
He swung.
Bang—!
The ball snapped cleanly into the catcher's glove.
Miss.
"Strike!"
Coach Kataoka's voice rang out immediately.
"Yes!"
Tanba roared internally.
That had been his decisive pitch.
A vertical curveball with heavy drop, thrown directly into the inside corner.
At that distance—
It was practically aimed at Ushijima's body.
Yet Ushijima didn't flinch.
Didn't step away.
Didn't hesitate.
He swung anyway.
That courage—
That recklessness—
It excited Tanba.
"Ya—hey~!"
Kuramochi and the others reacted instantly.
They could feel it too.
Ushijima's presence.
Facing a ball flying at him at 120 km/h—
And still choosing to attack.
That kind of batter pressures pitchers.
And pressures them in the most dangerous way.
Even Kawakami bit his lip and smiled.
"This first-year…"
"He's terrifying."
Ushijima stood calmly in the batter's box.
His aura didn't waver.
His sharp eyes stayed locked on Tanba.
Then he spoke quietly toward the catcher.
"If the next pitch is the same speed."
"The same curve."
"I'll drive it near second base."
Even Coach Kataoka's eyes widened slightly.
Confidence like that—
Against this pitch?
Miyauchi raised his hand and signaled.
Tanba nodded.
Once more, he entered his pitching motion.
Step.
Twist.
Release.
Whoosh—!!
The baseball soared, then dropped sharply, crashing toward the inside corner once again.
Ushijima's eyes flashed.
He stepped back with his left foot, creating just enough space.
Then—
He swung.
Clang—!!!
The tip of the bat caught the ball perfectly.
The baseball streaked like white lightning past Tanba's left side.
It landed less than a meter in front of second base—
Then bounced hard and shot into center field.
"Oh—oh—oh!"
Isashiki shouted in disbelief.
"He connected?!"
Kominato Ryosuke smiled, eyes narrowed.
"In a real game, the second baseman would've fielded that."
"But still…"
Kuramochi laughed loudly.
"Ya—hahaha! What an insane junior!"
"He figured out Tanba-senpai's ace pitch in just two swings!"
Kuramochi clenched his fists.
He was fired up.
Because Ushijima Wakatoshi—
Was the kind of batter that made pitchers burn hotter.