A little earlier—
"Oh! It's coming… almost—ah! What the heck?! The grip is too loose!"
Inside a shopping mall, several members of Ichidaisan High School were gathered around a claw machine. Among them, Takahiro Hirakawa was, as usual, the loudest.
"Stop messing around, Hirakawa," Takahiro Ōmae muttered, his voice low and annoyed.
"Shut up! I'm about to grab it!" Hirakawa shot back stubbornly.
Ōmae frowned slightly.
"…What are we even doing here?"
"Huh?" one of his teammates looked at him.
"What are we doing… in a place like this?" Ōmae repeated, as if asking himself.
A heavy silence fell.
"…We should be watching Seido right now."
That single sentence dragged everyone back into their memories.
The loss.
The frustration.
The lingering bitterness that refused to fade.
"…Let's go watch," Ōmae suddenly said.
"The team's practice?" someone asked.
"No. The match between Seido High School and Yakushi High School."
"What? Whether they win or lose has nothing to do with us anymore!" a teammate protested.
"It does," Ōmae replied quietly.
"I can't move forward unless I see for myself… the real strength of Yakushi the team that defeated us—and how Seido plans to fight them."
His voice carried a rare uncertainty, like someone lost at sea without direction.
No one argued after that.
"Well, you baseball idiot, go by yourself," Hirakawa grumbled. "I'm definitely not going."
…
Sometime later—
The same group arrived at the stadium.
"They're still playing…"
"End of the third inning. We made it in time," Ōmae observed. "Sawamura's on the mound."
"Hey, what's going on?" Hirakawa's voice suddenly rang out from behind them. "Yakushi only scored three runs?"
Ōmae sighed. "So you came after all…"
Before anyone could say more, another voice joined in—
"That left-handed pitcher deserves most of the credit."
They turned to see Manaka Kaname standing quietly nearby.
"Furuya gave up two home runs in the first inning just like I did and got overwhelmed. But Sawamura came in and stabilized things," Manaka explained calmly.
"Even so, he gave up hits in the third and allowed another run. Fortunately, Seido's defense turned a double play to stop the bleeding."
The group fell silent again.
"Then why hasn't Seido scored yet?" someone asked.
Manaka's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That's because of their pitcher—Sanada Shunpei. He completely shut us down before, and now he's doing the same to Seido. No runs. No hits. No one on base."
Seido Dugout
"What should we do, Coach?" Ota asked nervously. "Next up are dangerous batters… and possibly their cleanup."
Chris Yu Takigawa watched silently.
Sawamura isn't at his best… but replacing him this early would leave us short-handed later.
Nearby, Miyuki Kazuya was also deep in thought.
We're already down three runs. If we give up more, this game slips away…
All eyes turned toward one man—
Kataoka Tesshin.
After a moment of silence, he finally spoke.
"Sawamura."
The dugout stiffened.
"You'll finish this inning."
A pause.
"Kawakami will take over next. Tanba, start warming up now. Be ready to enter at any time."
Then his gaze sharpened.
"And for this inning… the strategy is—"
Miyuki grinned slightly and cut in.
"Sawamura, just pitch with confidence. Leave the rest to me."
"Yeah!"
"We've got your back!"
"Three runs down isn't the end!"
"Don't panic!"
Encouragement erupted from all sides.
Sawamura clenched his fists and shouted:
"Yes, sir! I won't let you down!"
His voice echoed loudly enough to reach the stands, stirring the crowd.
In the Stands
"So Sawamura's continuing this inning," Akiko Owada noted.
"An ideal choice," Fujio Mine replied. "Let him stabilize things, then rotate pitchers."
Yakushi Dugout
Todoroki Raizo smirked.
"So they're sticking with him… Kitamura, I was hoping you'd crush the next pitcher outright."
He chuckled darkly.
"But this works too. That lefty's already nearing his limit. We've adjusted. One more solid hit and he's done."
"Coach," someone pointed out, "their ace, Tanba, is warming up."
"So what?" Raizo scoffed. "We're ahead. And that bald guy, what's he going to do?"
His expression turned fierce.
"That first-year pitcher… we're not letting him walk away unscathed."
"Of course not," Fukuda grinned.
"He's been a real pain," Yamauchi added, cracking his knuckles.
"Just wait, kid," someone muttered. "We're about to tear you apart."
A heavy, oppressive aura spread through the Yakushi bench—
The pressure was building.
And the real test for Sawamura Eijun… was just beginning.