Phew—
Nanjo Taishi stepped onto the pitcher's mound at Koshien, the roaring atmosphere washing over him. For a moment, everything felt unreal.
He never imagined he would one day stand on this stage, on this mound. His hands trembled slightly.
"…Coach…"
President Ota noticed the shaking and glanced nervously at Coach Kataoka.
Coach Kataoka didn't say a word. He simply watched Nanjo quietly.
Being nervous at Koshien is normal, he thought.
But whether a pitcher can settle those nerves and perform—that's what separates an ordinary pitcher from a real one.
And Coach Kataoka believed Nanjo Taishi could do it.
At the batter's box, Seika Academy's lead-off batter was also visibly trembling. Compared to Seidou, their experience was painfully thin. Facing this massive stadium atmosphere for the first time, he could barely swallow.
Both pitcher and batter were nervous.
Whoever recovered first would win this duel.
Tanaka Wataru checked the fielding positions one last time, then turned to the batter. According to the scouting report, Seika's lead-off batter was the team's best bunter and fastest runner.
A threat they could not underestimate.
Tanaka signaled.
Nanjo exhaled sharply, raised his leg, and pitched.
Whoosh!
Seika's batter swung instinctively—
Strike!
"Strike!"
Hearing the umpire's voice, Nanjo's pounding heartbeat finally began to settle.
It's the same as always… just another mound.
"Strike!"
Another cutter. Another whiff.
On the third pitch, the batter bunted.
Bang!
The ball rolled sharply toward Third Base.
"Azuma!!" Tanaka barked.
Azuma Kiyokuni—already expecting the bunt—charged, scooped the ball cleanly, and rifled it to First Base.
"Out!"
The batter froze. It was a perfect bunt—yet the throw beat him easily.
"Ga-ha-ha!"
Azuma let out a wild laugh. He wasn't fast, but no one on that field had a stronger arm.
One out. Seidou's nerves faded. Momentum was theirs.
From the dugout railing, Kanzaki Ryou sighed dramatically.
"Ahh… I really want to pitch…"
"What's wrong with you?" Miyuki asked dryly.
"I WANT to pitch."
"Then go to the bullpen. Isn't today your 'acting job'?" Miyuki smirked.
"Tch. I want to play."
Miyuki shook his head. "Even if you weren't injured, Coach wouldn't use you this early. No way he wastes your stamina on early-round games."
"I know… I'm just saying."
The Koshien schedule was brutal. To go deep into the tournament, conserving their ace was essential. Coach Kataoka wouldn't let Kanzaki pitch unless it was necessary. And exposing him early would only give rival schools time to scout him.
While they chatted, Seika's second and third batters were cleanly struck out.
Three up, three down.
Nanjo Taishi walked back to the dugout—calmer now, finally breathing normally.
Kanzaki rushed up.
"Nanjo-senpai! How does Koshien's mound feel?!"
Nanjo chuckled. "Pretty good. Feels solid. Comfortable."
"Were you nervous?"
"Of course. My hands were shaking like crazy at first."
While they talked, Shida Shouta stepped onto the field with his bat. Seika's defense took their positions.
Bottom of the first — Seidou to bat.
Shida, as lead-off, would swing the first bat of Seidou's Summer Koshien.
"What strong pressure…"
Kazashima Eita murmured from the mound.
Unlike his teammates, Kazashima had stood on big stages before. His expression was calm—almost serene.
He received the signal.
Straight pitch, outside corner.
Whoosh!
Strike.
Shida watched calmly. As the lead-off, his first duty wasn't just getting on base—it was gathering information.
Fast velocity. Precise placement.
Not bad for someone who had only played baseball for a year.
The second pitch came quickly.
Shida didn't swing.
"Ball!"
A curveball—poorly controlled. It drifted off the plate.
Nervousness? Or just lack of mastery?
Shida suspected the latter. The fastball was polished, but the breaking pitches were still raw.
One strike. One ball.
Shida judged the next pitch would be a fastball.
Kazashima wound up.
Inside fastball.
Shida's bat whipped through the zone—
Crack!
The ball exploded off his bat and flew toward left field.
"Shida!!"
The crowd roared as he slid safely into First Base.
"No outs, runner on first!"
"Great start!!"
A perfect beginning for Seidou.
Kazashima's catcher gave him an apologetic glance—Shida clearly guessed the pitch.
But Kazashima shook his head. He wasn't surprised. This was Seidou. Nothing would come easy.
He would need every ounce of concentration—120%, maybe more—just to keep the game close.
On the stands, the cheer rose like thunder.
"KOMINATO!!!!"
All attention shifted.
Ryosuke Kominato stepped into the batter's box.
The rhythm had begun.
And Seidou was already on the attack.