With Yuki's home run, Seidou took an early 2–0 lead in the bottom of the first inning.
Batting fifth, Kanzaki Ryou stepped into the box, eyes locked on the mound.
On the mound stood You Shunshin.
The home run from Tetsuya Yuki was already erased from his mind. Right now, nothing mattered except the batter in front of him.
If he wanted even a sliver of hope — he had to get past Kanzaki.
"Let me see just how precise your control really is."
Kanzaki casually loosened his shoulders and settled into his stance.
You Shunshin's control was nearly flawless — he could paint any corner at will.
But his pitches weren't fast.
And to Kanzaki, that was the flaw.
In the Stands
Reporter Fujio fanned himself vigorously.
"This heat is brutal… And now You Shunshin has to face the heart of Seidou's lineup."
Beside him, Akiko observed quietly.
"It already looks one-sided. Akikawa's lineup is on a completely different level."
Fujio nodded.
"Akikawa put everything on You Shunshin. He's the ace, the fifth batter, even their strategic brain. He carried this team here by himself."
"If they had even an average powerhouse lineup to support him… they'd contend with anyone in West Tokyo."
Akiko sighed.
"It's a pity."
First pitch — low and outside fastball.
Kanzaki didn't swing.
He smiled faintly.
"So precise… barely half a ball off."
Watching that pitch up close, Kanzaki couldn't help but think:
If my 160 km/h fastball had this level of control… I'd be unstoppable.
He shook the thought away.
Now wasn't the time.
He'd seen what he needed to see.
Was he being selective? Or did he judge it unhittable?
It didn't matter.
Stick to the plan.
First, reinforce the umpire's perception with edge pitches.
Then, steal strikes with borderline balls.
Even if necessary — walk him.
But…
If I can strike him out here, it changes everything.
Second pitch — nearly identical trajectory.
Only a ball's width difference.
Kanzaki recognized it instantly.
A ball.
He didn't swing.
"Strike!"
The umpire called it.
Two strikes.
The crowd murmured.
Kanzaki might strike out?
Suddenly, Kanzaki stepped closer to home plate.
You Shunshin's eyes narrowed.
So that's your answer…
Standing closer eliminated the outside-edge trick.
Fine.
Then we finish this inside.
At that distance, instinct alone makes most batters flinch.
And with less swing space, power decreases.
The Pitch
The ball came screaming toward Kanzaki's chest.
No hesitation.
He turned on it violently.
CRACK!
"Right field!" the catcher shouted, springing up.
The ball shot past the infield.
Clean hit.
You Shunshin clenched his fist as Kanzaki sprinted to first.
That was the difference.
That pitch had been perfect.
Against most batters, it would've jammed them — foul ball, weak pop-up.
But not this one.
"As expected of the monster with thirty-six home runs…"
A frontal confrontation wasn't enough.
The Pressure Continues
Next up: Chris.
A sharp liner to left field.
Kanzaki advanced to second.
Then Tsunehiro hit a hard grounder toward third.
Hashimoto reacted quickly, charging forward to cut it off.
Force out.
Inning over.
Seidou leads 2–0.
Dugout Reactions
"Tch. Only two runs?" Kuramochi complained.
"Only?" someone shot back. "Greedy much?"
"You Shunshin's control is nasty. Everything's on the edges."
"There wasn't a single pitch over the heart of the plate."
"Then don't wait. Swing with conviction."
Kuramochi looked at Kanzaki.
"You went easy on that first pitch, didn't you? You could've crushed it."
Kanzaki smiled.
"It was the easiest one to hit."
He flexed his glove as he continued:
"I wanted to observe first."
He looked toward the field.
"Next time, I'll blast one."
Top of the Second
Tanba retired Akikawa's cleanup hitter, Shiratori.
Now stepping into the box —
You Shunshin himself.
Not just an elite pitcher — his bat was dangerous too.
Batting fifth, he was clearly their strongest hitter.
Tanba glanced at him calmly.
Even if You got on base, Akikawa lacked the firepower to sustain offense.
The only way they could score was if someone reached before him.
Otherwise?
Minimal threat.
You Shunshin adjusted his glasses and steadied his breathing.
On the mound stood Tanba Koichiro — third-year ace, master of the curveball and vertical drop curve.
The next gap to reveal itself…
Wouldn't just be in pitching.
It would be in team strength.