"Tsk tsk… Ryou, at this rate you're going to offend half the seniors by summer," Miyuki whispered, glancing at his partner.
Even though they were warming up in the bullpen, they could still clearly hear the conversation happening on the field.
Ryou snorted and threw the ball back. "I'm not worried at all. You're the one panicking."
Miyuki laughed as he caught the ball—then froze when he saw Tanba trudging back toward the bullpen with a gloomy expression.
Both Ryou and Miyuki stopped talking immediately. It was clear Tanba's mood was terrible.
Out on the mound, Nanjo Taishi—fresh off earning an extra inning—felt excitement pounding in his chest.
I must pitch well. I can't disappoint Coach Kataoka…
He inhaled deeply and threw the first pitch of the inning.
Tanaka Wataru's eyes widened.
"Oh no!"
Crack!
The bat connected squarely. Tanaka jerked up his mask and yelled:
"Right field!!"
The ball dropped cleanly between first and right field and bounced toward Araki, who fielded it cleanly and threw it back in.
A runner on first wasn't a problem yet. Nanjo exhaled slowly.
The next batter stepped in. Neither he nor Tanaka took the previous mistake too seriously. It was already the fifth inning—one off-target pitch wasn't unusual.
Coach Kataoka on the bench also remained calm.
But Nanjo's next pitch—
—missed again.
Tanaka had called for a low cutter on the outer corner.
Nanjo threw it straight down the middle.
"Damn it!"
Another sharp crack rang out. The ball shot high toward center.
"Catch it!!"
"It's coming down!!"
"Isashiki!!!"
Shouts erupted from the crowd.
Isashiki Jun sprinted back at full speed, eyes locked on the ball. With a solid smack, it landed safely in his glove.
"Whew…"
A collective sigh echoed through the stadium. That ball had nearly been a home run.
Nanjo felt his heart seize. His face turned pale as he watched the ball return to the infield.
He glanced toward the Seidou dugout—only to see Coach Kataoka wearing his usual expressionless mask.
Shame hit him like a punch.
He had been entrusted with another inning. And he responded by throwing two terrible pitches.
Why…?
Why did my control suddenly collapse?!
Tanaka Wataru, seeing Nanjo's expression, immediately called for a timeout. After receiving the umpire's signal, he jogged to the mound.
"What happened? Are you hurt?" Tanaka asked, scanning him carefully. "You pitched flawlessly earlier. Then suddenly—this? If it's physical, say it."
Nanjo shook his head. "I'm fine."
"You sure?"
"Really. I'll pitch properly next one," Nanjo insisted, forcing himself to meet Tanaka's eyes.
Tanaka exhaled and patted his shoulder. "Alright. Hang in there."
Nanjo inhaled deeply, steadying his nerves.
In the bullpen, Ryou and Miyuki both focused on Nanjo's next pitch, their earlier warm-up forgotten.
Tanba and Miyauchi kept throwing, but their eyes occasionally flickered toward the field.
"Did you figure out what's wrong?" Miyuki asked.
Ryou shook his head. "Not sure. His stamina should still be fine. Probably something mental."
"Pressure, huh…" Miyuki murmured, tapping his chin. As a catcher, he imagined what he'd do if his pitcher suddenly collapsed mentally in-game.
Meanwhile, Ryou analyzed silently. For a pitcher, sudden collapse came from two things:
Physical disruption.
Or mental collapse.
Either way, he knew he had to avoid the same mistake someday.
Nanjo's deep breaths finally worked.
He secured two outs, allowed another hit, resulting in runners on first and second—but still managed to battle through the inning without giving up additional runs.
Finally…
Exhausted and drenched in cold sweat, Nanjo walked off the mound. He knew without a doubt that Coach wouldn't let him pitch the sixth inning.
He avoided making eye contact with Coach Kataoka and was about to step into the dugout—
"Nanjo."
Nanjo froze. "Y–yes, Coach!"
He braced for criticism.
Instead…
"You did very well just now," Kataoka said calmly. "It's normal for a pitcher's condition to fluctuate during a game. Handling such moments is one of the qualities an excellent pitcher must have. I'm pleased to see you manage it."
Nanjo's eyes went wide.
He had expected anger. Instead—praise?
Before he could respond, Kataoka added—
"But don't get carried away."
Nanjo's budding smile froze into an awkward shape, his face turning beet red.
Only then did he fully understand.
His collapse earlier wasn't fatigue.
It wasn't luck.
It was—
He got too happy.
Too excited.
Too eager to impress after being trusted.
"I–I understand, Coach! It won't happen again!" Nanjo shouted.
"Go rest."
Rest…? Nanjo blinked. Wasn't he supposed to be moved to the outfield?
But Coach Kataoka didn't elaborate.
With only four innings left—even if the game went into extras—Tanba and Kanzaki Ryou were enough.
In the bottom of the fifth, Seidou went on offense.
Matsumoto Takumi, Inashiro's Ace, remained as sharp as ever—still maintaining strong control deep into the game.
Azuma hit a double to right, bringing brief excitement, but Tanaka and Isashiki couldn't follow up.
The inning ended scoreless.
And so the tight battle continued.