A/N: Forgot to post this yesterday.
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Koshien—Finals!
The moment the final whistle sounded, the Seido players surged onto the field, shouts and cheers exploding all at once. Azuma Kiyokuni even stood at the edge of the dugout, throwing his head back and roaring toward the sky.
"Finals!!"
"We made it!"
"Kanzaki!!"
"We won!!"
The voices overlapped chaotically, filled with pure, unrestrained joy.
Teammates rushed toward the pitcher's mound and surrounded Kanzaki Ryou, faces flushed with excitement. A few of them even tried to lift him straight off the ground.
"Hey, hey, hey! Aren't you guys a bit too excited?" Kanzaki dodged their hands with quick steps. "Anyone who didn't know better would think we already won the championship!"
"You don't understand!" Shida Shota shot back immediately.
"That's right, you first-year brat!" one of the third-years laughed. "Do you know what making the Koshien finals means to us?"
"Exactly! This bastard reaches the finals in his first year—I'm so jealous I could cry."
Seeing Kanzaki slipping away, the third-year seniors teased him relentlessly, laughter ringing across the field.
"Coach, I—I—we…"
President Ota was so emotional he could barely speak, his hands waving wildly.
"We won!" Takashima Rei's chest rose and fell sharply, her eyes shining as she looked at the celebrating players.
Coach Kataoka quietly watched the young figures on the field. His thoughts drifted back to a distant summer—when he had stood on this same stage as Seido's ace, reaching the finals with his teammates.
Back then, he had felt the same joy.
And yet… they had only ended as runners-up.
This time was different.
Coach Kataoka's gaze hardened slightly. No matter who stood in their way this year, Seido would seize the final victory.
As cheers from Seido's supporters thundered through the stadium, the Osaka Kiryu side stood in stark contrast. Led by Matsugi Musashi, their faces were filled with frustration and regret.
If only he hadn't been so impulsive at the start.
Matsugi lowered his head, replaying the nightmare of the first inning in his mind. Three runs lost in the opening—three runs that ultimately decided the game.
To him, that defeat felt like it rested squarely on his shoulders.
Seeing this, Tahara Kazuki stepped forward and patted him firmly on the shoulder.
"Don't overthink it," Tahara said calmly. "A game's result is never decided by just one person. If we win, it's everyone's credit. If we lose, it's a responsibility we share. You pitched well."
"I…"
Matsugi fell silent. Seeing the disappointment on his teammates' faces only made his chest ache more.
They had reached the semifinals of Koshien.
That alone should have been something to be proud of.
Turning his head, Tahara looked toward the Seido players celebrating wildly across the field, envy and unwillingness flickering in his eyes.
"Let's go," he said quietly. "It's time to line up."
"Thank you for the game!"
"Thank you for the game!"
Both teams removed their caps and bowed. As the players passed one another, Matsugi stopped in front of Kanzaki Ryou.
…Hm?
Kanzaki looked at him in surprise.
What's this guy planning?
"Matsugi Musashi?"
Kanzaki raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
Matsugi took a deep breath, meeting Kanzaki's gaze head-on.
"Win the championship."
Without waiting for a reply, Matsugi turned around and walked away decisively.
Watching his retreating back, Kanzaki couldn't help but grin.
Tsundere, huh.
After thanking the audience, the Seido players returned to the locker room.
"Change your clothes and go eat immediately," Coach Kataoka ordered. "After that, everyone will go to the stands to watch Seihou High School's game."
After the match between Seido and Osaka Kiryu, the other semifinal followed—
The game featuring the top championship favorite: Seihou High School.
"Yes!!"
Everyone jumped to their feet in excitement.
Kanzaki took off his jersey, icing his shoulder as he pulled his phone from his bag.
…No messages.
Kumiko's probably still at training camp, he thought. Working hard for her national tournament.
There were still two days until the finals.
Only now, listening to his seniors laughing and talking loudly in the locker room, did reality finally sink in.
First year.
First time at Koshien.
And already standing on the finals stage.
…Yeah. He really was amazing.
Kanzaki stared at the ceiling and let out a soft sigh. His seniors were already this happy just from reaching the finals. If they actually won the championship, someone might get so excited they'd need to be rushed to the hospital.
But then—
What if they lost?
That would be even more unbearable.
After coming this far, falling one step short—losing when one hand had already touched the trophy—would hurt far more than being eliminated early.
"Hiss…"
Just imagining his senior teammates crying their eyes out made Kanzaki shiver. Especially Azuma Kiyokuni—if that guy cried, it would be downright terrifying.
No.
They absolutely could not lose.
"Hey!"
"Ryou?"
"Kanzaki Ryou!!"
"Huh—who?!"
Kanzaki snapped back to reality just as Miyuki's face appeared less than five centimeters from his own.
Bang!
An uppercut.
"Ouch!!"
Miyuki clutched his stomach and dropped to one knee.
"Pervert. Get away from me," Kanzaki said coldly.
"Y-You bastard…!"
"Stop fooling around, you two. Hurry up and change," Nanjo Taishi said helplessly as he walked past.
Those two had only pitched three innings today and still had the energy to mess around. As for him, he was half-dead from exhaustion and just wanted to eat and collapse into bed.
In the afternoon, Seihou High School's game began as scheduled.
From the Coach to the players, everyone from Seido filled the stands.
As the game progressed, their expressions grew increasingly serious.
By the eighth inning—
11:2.
A shocking score.
This was a Koshien semifinal, yet it had turned completely one-sided.
"Seihou's batting lineup is strong—just like Osaka Kiryu's," Shida Shota said. "But what's really terrifying are their pitchers."
"Mm," Miyuki nodded. "Completely different styles. Either one is no worse than Matsugi Musashi."
"They look slightly weaker statistically because they rotate," Nanjo Taishi said, wrapped in a thick jacket.
"Tch… troublesome," someone muttered. "One Matsugi Musashi was already bad enough. They have two."
Kanzaki chewed his gum and hugged his knees, eyes fixed on the field.
Seihou's two pitchers were exact opposites.
One overwhelmed batters with pure fastballs.
The other confused them with a variety of breaking pitches.
Just when you finally adapted to one style—
They would switch.
And everything would collapse.
It was devastating to a batter's rhythm.
Kind of like Furuya and Sawamura…
Kanzaki narrowed his eyes.
But the pitchers standing on that mound—
They were far stronger than either of them.