In the bottom of the eighth inning, Seidou was on offense. Kominato Ryosuke, leading off, barely managed to track two pitches from the unfamiliar pitcher, Amahisa Kousei, before grounding out on the third pitch.
Next, Yuki Tetsuya stepped into the batter's box, gripping his bat firmly.
"Yuki! Hit it out!"
"Don't let that first-year keep showing off!"
"It's on you, Yuki!"
"Teach him a lesson!"
Seidou's supporters shouted until their voices cracked. They absolutely could not tolerate a rookie pitcher striking out four of their batters in a row.
Perhaps they had already forgotten that Seidou's own prodigy—Kanzaki Ryou—was also a first-year. But Ichidai Third High's fans were already used to this kind of selective outrage.
Yuki's expression remained calm and steady, unshaken by the crowd's roars. This pitcher was tricky. He needed all of his focus.
On the mound, Amahisa Kousei shivered when Yuki's sharp gaze locked onto him—then his entire face lit up with excitement. He loved facing strong batters head-on.
Ichidai's catcher signaled for the pitch. Amahisa nodded, an eager smile on his lips, and hurled the ball.
A high inside fastball!
Swoosh!
Yuki swung with all his strength—
Bang!
The ball ricocheted behind the catcher.
"Foul!"
Yuki pulled his bat back, eyes sharpening.
His pitches are heavy… even the slightest delay turns it into a foul. If I want to send it flying, I need to hit the perfect contact point.
After suppressing Yuki's swing, Amahisa's eyes widened with rising exhilaration.
In contrast, his catcher looked grim. He knew just how terrifying Yuki's power was.
Curveball.
Without hesitation, Amahisa delivered it.
The ball had tremendous spin and a sharp drop. Yuki had never faced him before, but he had studied Amahisa carefully.
Locking onto the lower strike zone, he swung decisively—
Bang!
Another crisp crack echoed.
"Foul!!"
Another foul.
Two consecutive suppressed swings.
Seidou's bench exchanged tense looks. They hadn't expected a newcomer to force Yuki into such a tight spot.
"Come on, Tetsu!"
"Blast it!"
"Strike him out!"
"Let him swing!"
The mixed roars of both schools filled the stadium. Amahisa's blood boiled, especially when he met Yuki's unwavering gaze.
Yes! This is baseball! This is how it should be!
The catcher called for an outside pitch to bait.
Amahisa's expression darkened. He shook his head.
"Huh?"
The catcher blinked. Then he saw that familiar wild gleam in Amahisa's eyes.
Not again.
Rookies were like this—too emotional, too reckless.
The catcher sighed and changed the signal: a Slider low in the zone.
Amahisa grinned.
"This is how it should be—a head-on clash!"
Coach Tahara watched him closely. Strategically, a bait pitch was the right call. Emotionally? He couldn't shut down his ace's fire.
And Tahara believed in him.
Amahisa, however, only thought about one thing:
Beat Yuki Tetsuya in a pure showdown.
The pitch came out fiery—
Swoosh!
Too sweet.
The catcher's heart dropped.
The Slider hung up in the zone.
Yuki would never miss that.
Bang!!
The crack boomed across the stadium as the ball soared high toward center field.
"It's out!"
"Home run!!"
"Yuki!!!"
The stands exploded. A towering home run—in the eighth inning—off Ichidai's miracle first-year.
Yuki dropped his bat lightly, clenched his fist, and began a steady, confident trot around the bases.
On the mound, Amahisa stood frozen, staring at the sky where the ball had disappeared.
The catcher started forward, ready to call time and settle him down—
—but Amahisa suddenly turned around.
He was smiling.
Eyes burning with even more intensity.
This kid!
He had just given up a critical home run—Ichidai was now trailing by four—and yet he grinned like he'd just been handed the greatest challenge of his life.
Suppressing his shock, the catcher turned to face the next batter:
Azuma Kiyokuni.
One of Seidou's most dangerous hitters.
And sure enough… Amahisa wanted another head-on battle.
The catcher swallowed hard and shot a desperate glance at Coach Tahara.
The coach nodded.
So he had to go along with this madness?
This was the finals!
But with Manaka already taken out, Amahisa was their only remaining pitcher who could suppress Seidou.
"Come on!"
Azuma roared, gripping his bat tightly. He wanted to crush the next pitch.
The catcher wiped his sweaty hand on his pants and signaled again—low pitches only. Another mistake could mean another home run.
Amahisa inhaled deeply, calming his raging emotions. He lifted his leg—
Swoosh!
Azuma swung hard.
Slap!
"Strike!"
Power vibrated through the catcher's glove. He exhaled in relief.
The kid had adjusted.
A sweeping Slider followed, making Azuma miss.
Two strikes.
Finally, an inside Curveball forced Azuma into an infield pop-up.
Caught.
One more out.