"Not bad—you actually managed to make contact," Chris said as he looked at Miyuki.
Miyuki chuckled. "Still a bit off. And honestly, no one here is more familiar with Kanzaki's pitching than me."
Chris nodded in agreement. As a catcher, he naturally saw his own pitcher's pitches more than anyone else.
After fouling off the first pitch, Miyuki exchanged a few words with Chris before turning his gaze toward Kanzaki Ryou.
Hehe~
Miyuki grinned provocatively.
Kanzaki rolled his eyes at him, then looked back at Chris with anticipation, eager to see how the next pitch would be called.
Hmm?
When Kanzaki saw the sign Chris gave, his face remained calm, but a ripple of doubt rose within him.
Middle course
A four-seam fastball.
Among his three straight pitches, the trajectories in the first half were nearly identical, making them extremely difficult to distinguish. Was Chris betting that Miyuki wouldn't dare swing at a four-seamer?
Kanzaki considered it briefly.
If he hesitated or tried to feel his way through the pitch, it would only give Miyuki an opening.
Alright… let's gamble.
After giving a slight nod, Kanzaki delivered the ball.
The white baseball shot straight toward home plate.
At that height—
That trajectory—
Miyuki frowned slightly and swung his bat toward the lower part of the strike zone.
A Forkball!
Whoosh!
The ball rushed in as Miyuki swung with full force.
Bang!
The bat clipped the bottom of the baseball.
Miyuki's pupils shrank.
This isn't a forkball—!?
It was just a straight fastball!
The ball soared straight up into the air.
Kanzaki glanced at its trajectory, took two steps back, and raised his glove.
Seeing this, Miyuki could only shake his head helplessly.
This one's getting caught.
But in the next instant—
Everyone saw Kanzaki shift his glove to the side.
The baseball dropped to the ground.
In one smooth motion, Kanzaki scooped it up and fired it toward home plate.
At the same time, Chris sprang up and made a sharp throwing motion toward third base.
"Ah—this…!"
Miyuki froze.
If that had been a real game, this play could very well have resulted in a triple play.
Three outs—on a single pitch.
"Nice," Chris said, giving Kanzaki a thumbs-up. "That would fool a lot of people in an actual game."
After facing the entire first-string lineup, the partnership between Kanzaki and Chris had shown exceptional coordination. Even Chris himself could feel his rhythm gradually returning.
Kanzaki noticed Coach Kataoka watching him intently, as if deep in thought.
Maybe after the Spring Tournament… by the time the Kanto Tournament comes around…
Chris would likely be reactivated.
Even if he didn't immediately reclaim the starting catcher role, Ono Hiroshi would probably be pushed out of the first string.
And when it came to the Summer Tournament—
Whoever earned the starting catcher position would depend entirely on their performance during Kanto.
That evening, in the cafeteria.
Kanzaki Ryou was cornered by his roommate, Arima Kazusa.
"Kanzaki-senpai, your pitching today was incredible!" Arima said excitedly, sitting beside him with starry eyes. "I really want to try hitting it!"
Gnawing on a spare rib, Kanzaki replied vaguely, "You want to hit it? Sure."
"R-really?" Arima hadn't expected Kanzaki to agree so casually.
Not just the first-years—even the second-years and members of the second string wanted a chance to face Kanzaki's pitches.
But Kanzaki was only one person. For more than a year, most club members hadn't even had the opportunity to bat against him.
For the rookies who admired him, the first-string's daily fixed simulated practice was something they could only envy.
Swallowing the meat in his mouth, Kanzaki turned and smiled.
"Hehe. Three pitches. If you hit even one, I'll treat you to ice cream. If you don't, fifty push-ups. How about it?"
Arima hesitated for a moment, then said carefully, "I don't really like ice cream, senpai… If I hit one, could you throw me another pitch for each ball I manage to hit? Is that okay?"
"Alright," Kanzaki nodded.
Encouraged, Arima added, "And if I don't hit any… I'll play the guitar for you?"
"Oh?" Kanzaki laughed. "So you don't want to do push-ups either."
"Hehehe…" Arima scratched his head awkwardly, clearly exposed.
Kanzaki shook his head. "I'm not really into guitar. Can you play the violin?"
"Yes!" Arima nodded vigorously. His mother, Arima Kaoru, was an expert—of course he could. Conveniently, he had brought one with him.
"Then violin it is," Kanzaki agreed.
Although he had no musical talent himself, he had grown up surrounded by music thanks to his sisters. Listening to instruments always relaxed him—almost like purifying the soul.
Honestly, every time he listened to Kumiko play the euphonium, he felt sleepy almost immediately.
Half an hour after dinner, Kanzaki and Arima arrived at the indoor training facility.
"Oh? Kanzaki, bringing a new guy again?" Ono Hiroshi said with a grin. "You're really enthusiastic."
Ono and Kawakami were already warming up.
"You guys are fast," Kanzaki replied. "You just ate—didn't even give your food time to settle."
Ono patted Kawakami on the back. "Kawakami wants to practice his curveball more."
"A curveball, huh…" Kanzaki stroked his chin, deep in thought.
Seeing his expression, Kawakami grew uneasy.
"Kanzaki-san… is there something wrong with my curveball?"
At that moment, footsteps sounded near the entrance.
Kanzaki turned around and saw Ochiai Hiromitsu standing near the door, awkwardly half-hidden like a spy.
"Shh!"
Ochiai pressed a finger to his lips, signaling Kanzaki not to expose him.
Kanzaki was speechless.
You're standing right there—everyone's already seen you.
The man was surprisingly devoted to his little "stealth" games.
"There's nothing wrong with your curveball," Kanzaki said calmly. "I just have an idea."
The moment he said that, everyone's attention focused on him.
Kawakami asked directly, "Kanzaki-san, what kind of idea?"
"Kawakami, the breaking pitches you currently use—the slider, sinker, and curveball—all have different trajectories," Kanzaki said slowly. "Their speeds vary, but the overall drop isn't drastic, and each pitch moves in a completely different way."
"When you face strong hitters, you can only rely on deception through movement and location. You can't overpower them with velocity."
"That puts you at a disadvantage."
This wasn't an exaggeration.
Pitchers like Kawakami, when facing batters with strong power or excellent pitch selection, couldn't suppress them with speed. They had no choice but to gamble on movement and placement.
And that—
Was a double-edged sword.
One small mistake, and it would turn into a bad pitch.