The Spring Tournament Final between Seido High School and Inashiro Industrial had reached the top of the fifth inning.
Score: 3–3.
Inashiro was at bat.
Their eighth batter stepped into the box, his stance aggressive from the very first moment.
The intent was obvious—
he was going to swing, no matter what.
To Inashiro, Kawakami was the clear weak point.
If they kept applying pressure, they might be able to break him completely.
Even with the score tied, none of the Inashiro players felt at ease.
Every one of them was tense.
It felt as though a single mistake could drag them straight into the abyss.
Playing against Seido always came with suffocating pressure.
Even though Inashiro had defeated them last autumn and performed brilliantly in the Spring Koshien qualifiers.
facing the reigning national champions still gnawed at their nerves.
Against a powerhouse like Seido…
they couldn't help but feel a lack of true confidence.
And because of that, they were desperate.
Desperate to make contact.
Desperate to break through.
The eighth batter embodied that desperation.
He raised his bat high, ready to swing for the fences.
From the aura he gave off, it felt like he might actually do it.
On the mound, Kawakami had already cast aside his hesitation after being battered earlier.
He no longer cared about the outcome.
All that mattered now was throwing every pitch with everything he had.
He wanted to show the results of all the work he had put in at Seido.
His arm whipped forward—
and the ball exploded out of his hand.
Whoosh!
The eighth batter immediately sensed the pitch wasn't ordinary.
This quiet-looking pitcher was anything but harmless.
The ball started behind his body before cutting sharply into the zone at an angle—making it extremely difficult to square up.
Even so—
a thought flashed through his mind.
Our top of the order was crushing pitches like this all game.
In that split second, he still committed to the swing.
Crack!
The ball met the bat and shot toward the ground.
The eighth batter's eyes widened.
The pitch had far more movement than he expected—its break and late life completely throwing off his aim.
The ball rocketed off his bat in an entirely different direction than intended.
And Seido's defense—
was not something you could get lucky against.
Even before becoming national champions, they were already a top-tier defensive team.
Now, their fielding was among the best in the country.
A grounder like this?
There was no chance it would slip through.
Smack!
"Out!"
One down. Bases empty.
Out in center field, Zhou Hao clicked his tongue in admiration.
"These guys are basically playing with cheats on…"
The longer he stayed on this team, the clearer it became.
Whether it was his own teammates or their opponents—
the level of play on the field, and the effort behind it, was on another level.
Zhou Hao himself might be a "cheat-level" player, capable of overwhelming most opponents head-on.
But that didn't mean the others were weak.
On the contrary—
everyone on this field deserved respect.
Including Kawakami.
Even if he couldn't hold onto a First String spot forever,
his growth was undeniable.
Just as Zhou Hao was thinking this, Inashiro's ninth batter stepped into the box.
Even as the bottom of the lineup for a national powerhouse, there was no hesitation in his stance.
Bat raised high—
ready to swing at anything.
Clearly, Inashiro had identified Kawakami as the point to exploit.
As long as that weakness existed, they would keep attacking relentlessly.
Whoosh!
Only when the pitch was already on its way did the batter unleash his full swing.
Crack!
The moment the ball came off the bat, every Inashiro player froze.
It was almost identical to the previous hit.
Same trajectory.
Same direction.
"Hah!"
A lean figure darted forward, fielded the bouncing ball cleanly, and fired to first in one smooth motion.
Kuramochi's throw was sharp and effortless—a perfect display of defensive precision.
Smack!
"Out!"
Two outs. Bases empty.
From the Seido stands, cheers erupted instantly.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
"Kawakami-senpai's back!"
"His sidearm is a huge weapon—there's no way he'd be First String without it!"
Now that Seido stood at the top of the nation, earning a spot on the First String roster was harder than ever.
Every player on that roster was a standout among standouts.
Kawakami was no exception—
he was talented.
He just wasn't as overwhelmingly gifted as some of the others.
And as national champions, Seido faced pressure and challenges far beyond what most teams experienced.
That was why Kawakami had looked shaky earlier.
Not because he was weak—
but because the standard around him had risen to an extreme level.
In the dugout, the boy named Sawamura listened to his teammates.
A strange light flickered in his eyes.
As a pitcher, he understood better than anyone how daunting the road ahead was.
He felt for his seniors.
But—
if he didn't surpass them…
if he didn't take one of their spots—
he would never get his own chance to stand on that mound.
Sawamura reached up and touched the cap on his head.
It was a gift from his friends back at Akagi Middle School in Nagano.
Every single one of them had signed it.
Since leaving Nagano, he had never been alone.
He carried all of their hopes with him.
And he would keep moving forward—
fearless.
Relentless.
He would prove to everyone that he could become a great pitcher.
The first step—
break into Seido's First String.
With two outs, Inashiro's leadoff batter stepped into the box.
"Leadoff—Carlos!"
For Kawakami, the real test was only just beginning.
In the batter's box, Carlos—the compact powerhouse—stared at him like a predator sizing up its prey.
He had seen everything Kawakami had just done.
That level of execution—pitching at one hundred percent—wasn't something an ordinary pitcher could pull off.
And doing it against a lineup like Inashiro's made it even more impressive.
Even so—
Carlos was brimming with confidence.
No matter how good the pitch was, he believed he could send the next one flying.
Behind the plate, Miyuki narrowed his eyes.
He had already given the sign.
This batter was on a completely different level from the ones before.
Aggressive. Precise. Dangerous.
There was no room for mistakes.
On the mound, Kawakami gave a small nod.
He drew in a breath—
and fired.
Whoosh!
The white ball cut through the air and reached the plate in an instant.
Carlos's eyes gleamed.
Just as he expected.
Seido's pitcher had quality stuff—
but it hadn't crossed the line he couldn't handle.
Which meant—
if he wanted to, he could crush it.
"Then I won't hold back."
As the pitch entered his zone, Carlos unleashed a full-power swing.
Crack!
The moment the ball exploded off the bat, every Seido player and fan felt their hearts jump.
It was a perfect swing.
Even by their standards.
The exit velocity, the angle—
everything was flawless.
Even the placement had been chosen perfectly.
Carlos hadn't been exaggerating.
He could handle Kawakami's pitches.
The ball hit the ground and shot forward.
Carlos burst out of the box like a cheetah, blazing down the baseline before sliding cleanly into second.
By the time Seido's outfielder returned the ball, it was already too late.
"Safe!"
Two outs. Runner on second.
The tension on the field spiked instantly.
Before they even realized it, Inashiro's lineup had already come full circle.
Up until now, Seido had firmly controlled the game against Inashiro, the national powerhouse.
But now—
the tide was turning.
The score might still be tied.
But the momentum had clearly shifted.
Seido, who had once dictated the pace, was now being forced onto the defensive.
And not just slightly—
they were being pushed back, step by step.
A complete reversal from their earlier dominance.
In Seido's dugout, Coach Kataoka raised his hand and signaled for a substitution.
The moment the players saw it—
their hearts jolted.
If Kawakami was pulled here…
his chances on the team might vanish entirely.
Sometimes, Coach Kataoka was merciless.
It wasn't cruelty—
it was reality.
At Seido, one mistake could cost you everything.
Kawakami understood that better than anyone.
Coach Kataoka acknowledged effort.
But effort alone meant nothing on this field.
Only results mattered.
Only pitchers who could hold the mound under pressure earned their place.
If you couldn't do that—
you would be replaced.
No exceptions.
That was Seido baseball.
That was Coach Kataoka's philosophy.
Of course…
there were exceptions.
And right now, that exception was Tanba.
Tanba Koichiro had made his share of mistakes on the mound.
Yet each time he faltered, Coach Kataoka's response had been different.
Again and again, he had been given another chance.
Now, with the game in a critical phase—
Coach Kataoka had made his decision.
He would entrust the rest of the game to Tanba.
That kind of trust was rare.
Different players required different handling—
and this choice was made entirely with Tanba in mind.
As Seido's ace, Tanba had stumbled under pressure more than once.
But because he was the ace, they had endured it.
That was the burden of the title.
That was the path an ace had to walk.
Now—
two outs.
Runner on second.
Inashiro's lineup hungry to take the lead.
There was no way—
he would allow that to happen.