"Tch…" Kuramochi returned to the lounge, clearly annoyed.
"How was it?" Isashiki asked.
"It's even more exaggerated than I imagined! Even though the mound height was increased, it feels completely different from what the coach threw yesterday. That guy's wingspan is insane—his release point is higher and farther forward than normal. The timing is completely off."
Kuramochi's thoughts mirrored those of Ushijima Wakatoshi.
Yesterday's simulation training did raise the mound height, but a coach's wingspan couldn't be changed.
Now, facing Maki—a pitcher standing at 195 cm—it was impossible to adjust in just one round.
Kominato returned while they were talking.
"Strikeout."
He looked utterly exasperated.
"A 33-centimeter height difference… haha."
Kominato glanced helplessly at Ushijima, who was smirking beside him.
"Come on!!!"
A loud roar erupted from the stadium.
The cheers were powerful, though the ones who got out looked completely frustrated.
"Haha~"
When Isashiki's high fly ball was caught again, everyone burst out laughing.
"So weak," Ushijima commented flatly.
"Shut up!"
"You can you up, no can no BB."
"Hahaha!"
That broken English line made the entire Seido team burst into laughter.
Isashiki had learned that phrase from Ushijima—and even tried to "translate" it earlier, which only made things worse.
"They're up!"
"Whoa!!!"
Led by Ushijima, everyone rushed onto the field to prepare for defense.
In the stands, Yuki Masashi muttered, "Finally… it's his turn."
He had watched videos before, but it wasn't the same as seeing it in person.
Now that he was here, he wanted to witness Ushijima Wakatoshi's pitching with his own eyes.
On the mound, Ushijima chewed his gum calmly and bent down to pick up a rosin bag.
He squeezed it lightly, then tossed it aside.
Sensen High School's first batter stepped up.
"Don't worry about his breaking balls—focus on his fastball and slider."
"And ignore the outside pitches. Look for something inside."
"He's the type who attacks the inside corner aggressively."
Sensen's head coach quickly laid out the strategy.
The batter nodded, understanding.
On the mound, Ushijima stared calmly at his opponent.
You made our batters struggle…
Then I'll return the favor.
Seeing Miyuki Kazuya's sign, Ushijima immediately understood.
He placed his right hand in his glove, set his grip, and raised both hands high.
His left leg lifted.
Then—
He drove forward.
His body twisted, and his right arm whipped forward with explosive force.
Whoosh!!!
The baseball shot out like a bullet, tearing through the air toward home plate.
The batter's eyes widened in shock, instinctively stepping back.
Bang!
The ball slammed into Miyuki's glove with a thunderous sound.
"Strike!"
Even the umpire looked surprised as he made the call.
Lucky, Miyuki thought as he stood up.
That pitch had barely clipped the edge of the zone.
Normally, something that tight might've been called a ball but the sheer speed made an impression.
With velocity like that, even borderline pitches looked more convincing.
"Whoa… that had to be over 150 km/h, right?"
"Definitely! Did you see how sharp it was?"
"Terrifying… Seido's first-year ace is no joke."
In the stands, Yuki Masashi's eyes widened.
He stared at Ushijima in disbelief.
"What's wrong?" his mother asked.
But Masashi didn't answer.
His gaze remained locked on the mound.
That power…
Is this really Ushijima's pitching?
His heart raced.
I want to hit that.
If I join Seido… can I face pitches like this every day?
He remembered what his older brother said—Ushijima often pitched batting practice for the team.
Regular starters would face his pitches every other day.
Each of them got dozens of swings.
If I train like that…
I'll definitely improve.
On the mound, Ushijima caught the return throw.
"Nice pitch. Keep it up," Miyuki said.
For the second pitch, Miyuki quickly set his glove.
This time, the ball came in slower than before.
"The speed's lower… right down the middle!"
The left-handed batter swung decisively.
But the moment the bat came through—
The ball suddenly cut inward and dropped.
It slipped past the bat and snapped into the glove.
"Cutter?!"
The batter froze.
"That speed… over 140?!"
"Strike!"
The umpire called it without hesitation.
Miyuki smiled as he tossed the ball back.
Those two pitches… you won't forget them.
He gave the next sign with a subtle grin.
Ushijima nodded slightly.
Then—
Another pitch.
"Fastball? Cutter?"
That brief hesitation was all it took.
A four-seam fastball, nearly 145 km/h, blasted into the inside corner.
Thump!
"Strike three! Batter out!"
The umpire's voice rang out.
The batter stood frozen.
For the first time, he had truly experienced Ushijima Wakatoshi's pitching.
Too strong…
The velocity, the movement, the precision—
Everything was overwhelming.