Once a runner gets on base, a pitcher's mentality can easily collapse. Tanba, Seido High School's substitute pitcher, struggled after that runner reached base. His performance afterward was far from reassuring.
This was currently the biggest problem facing the Seido High School Baseball Team.
"The opponent isn't invincible. We have a chance."
"Let Seido see the spirit of a public school!"
When Tanba ran into trouble on the mound, the players of Metropolitan Third High School immediately perked up.
They suddenly realized that the so-called powerhouse didn't seem as terrifying as they had imagined.
If they pushed a little harder and had a bit more luck, this didn't have to be a guaranteed loss. There was a chance. Definitely a chance.
"Whoosh!"
"Thwack!"
Miyuki threw the ball back to Tanba. The impact rattled Tanba's glove. The first-year catcher was glaring at him.
Tanba's pride took a heavy blow. Since when did he need a first-year junior to worry about him?
Images of his teammates fighting beside him flashed through his mind, along with the earnest gazes of Director Kataoka and the coaching staff. Tanba clenched his teeth. His eyes sharpened.
Miyuki squatted behind the plate, his expression cold.
That's right. How could a pitcher have no temper at all?
"Whoosh!"
The white ball streaked toward the plate. The fourth batter of Third High gritted his teeth and swung.
He missed completely.
"Thwack!"
"Strike!"
"Strike!!"
"Strike!!!"
"Strikeout!!!"
A clean strikeout instantly shattered Third High's unrealistic hopes.
Seido might be careless at times. They might have flaws. But they were still not a team an ordinary public school could challenge.
"That kind of breaking ball dropping from above—who can hit that?"
"No matter what, Tanba is still a Seido pitcher…"
"Heh…"
Hearing the murmurs around them, the Third High players lowered their heads in shame. Just moments ago, they'd felt confident. In less than three minutes, reality slapped them hard.
"Nice pitch!"
"That's it—keep it up!"
On Seido's side, the teammates didn't hesitate to praise Tanba. They were desperate for stable pitching. At this point, even a little good performance was enough to satisfy them.
Even Azuma Kiyokuni, surprisingly, offered praise.
"Still somewhat useful."
Tanba's face flushed. Praise from Azuma meant more than anything.
In the dugout, Coach Kataoka's expression remained cold.
"When you step up to bat, just show what you usually practice."
He said it casually, as if it meant nothing. But the players felt goosebumps rise.
They knew their director well. The calmer he sounded, the more dissatisfied he actually was. When he truly exploded, the problem was often less serious.
The first batter stepped into the box and immediately took a bunting stance.
"Bunting right away?"
"Seido…"
As expected, the stands buzzed.
Third High's pitcher and catcher were clearly confused. With the score tied, Seido obviously held the advantage. Why use such an unexpected tactic now?
They couldn't understand it.
Still, Third High had prepared pitching strategies in advance. The only unexpected change was Seido's lineup. The players on the field weren't the same core from the first game—they were substitutes.
But that also eased their nerves. Facing Seido's main lineup would have been terrifying. Against substitutes, at least the loss might not be too ugly.
To be honest, Third High hadn't completely lacked ambition. At the very start, they'd felt fired up. But Seido quickly pulled them back to reality.
Seido was simply different.
Third High adjusted their expectations. If they didn't lose too badly, that would be enough.
For the third-year seniors, this was their final summer.
Unfortunately for them, Seido's substitutes—finally given a chance to play—had no intention of granting mercy.
"Whoosh!"
As the Third High pitcher released the ball, the Seido batter suddenly pulled his bat back from the bunting stance.
In an instant, Third High realized the trick. The stance wasn't for bunting at all. It was meant to obstruct their view and read the pitch path.
"Ping!"
The ball was struck cleanly. The batter tossed his bat and sprinted to first.
No outs. Runner on first.
The second batter, Kominato Ryosuke—filling in for Tanaka—followed up with an easy hit.
No outs. Runners on first and second.
In the dugout, Manager Ota sighed deeply.
"Kominato is outstanding, both offensively and defensively. It's such a shame…"
Unfortunately, his position overlapped perfectly with Captain Tanaka's. That alone kept him as a substitute.
Kuramochi, now in the second team, felt the same frustration. His performance there was excellent. Once the third-years graduated, promotion to the first string would be natural.
But fate was cruel.
The current first-string shortstop was also a first-year. And in terms of potential, Kuramochi knew the truth.
Defensively, he could match Zhang Han. Their instincts were equally sharp.
But batting? That was impossible.
Zhang Han could already contend with Azuma and Yuuki for the cleanup spot. Surpassing them someday felt inevitable.
Kuramochi knew that no matter how hard he worked, he couldn't reach that level offensively.
"Too many good players…" Ota shook his head and sighed again. "…can be a real problem sometimes."
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