Back in the dugout, Rinichi set down his bat, took off his helt, and swapped it for his cap.
"Don't worry about it. We'll score later," Miyuki consoled him. "It's the fifth inning now, and Inashiro's lineup is about to hit the heart of their order. Let's show them sothing that'll really rattle them."
As he said that, Miyuki grinned—there was a hint of mischief in it.
Rinichi: "…"
He averted his eyes, looking indifferent. "Do as you like. As long as we win, that's enough."
Picking up his glove, he headed for the mound.
Miyuki: "…"
It felt like Rinichi's energy had dropped. He wasn't nearly as fired up as before the ga or in the opening innings…
The only ti Rinichi really gets fired up is when he's completely dominating and widening the lead.
"Fourth batter, catcher—Harada."
On the mound, Rinichi kept grinding his foot into the dirt. Even though his expression was blank, his body language scread irritation.
"I don't know if this counts as a flaw," Shinomiya comnted, "but Rinichi rarely has the patience to stick with sothing—especially in these grind-it-out gas where he isn't steamrolling the opponent."
Takashima Rei just listened quietly, taking in every bit of information about Rinichi.
After all, this was Seidou's precious true ace. And truth be told, no one probably understood Rinichi better than Shinomiya.
"Foul ball!"
Harada's brow furrowed even deeper.
A high-spin fastball with late life, on the outside corner.
Because of the high rotation, it looked even faster than 150 km/h, making it hard to ti the swing.
"Strike!"
The second pitch—a nasty, sharp-sinking splitter.
Next will be a changeup, Harada thought.
The ball left Rinichi's hand—
A fastball? No—
Harada's pupils contracted. He swung… and missed.
"Strike! Batter out!"
A high-speed slider?!
Rinichi could throw that too?
And despite the velocity, the slider's movent didn't diminish in the slightest.
The mont Inashiro's dugout saw that pitch, their expressions changed—their eyes locked onto Rinichi as if he were so kind of monster.
Miyuki smiled.
That pitch had rekindled Rinichi's interest—the eyes under his cap brim now carried a glint of amusent.
"Strike! Batter out!"
Narumiya, on the other hand, was irritated. He hadn't gotten to see the high-speed slider he'd been expecting.
Why won't he throw it again?!
He even shot Rinichi a glare.
Rinichi: "…"
"Strike! Batter out!"
The crowd roared.
"He's too strong! Not a single baserunner!"
"Rinichi!"
Mine Fujio muttered, "Never thought Kamishiro could throw a high-speed slider…"
"Inashiro can't find a way through at all. It's the end of the fifth, and they still can't break his three-up-three-down streak…"
"Well, think about it—Kamishiro opened with so odd pitches to cut his pitch count, and those weren't even that fast. But by the second trip through the lineup, his velocity shot up again, and now they can't keep up with his speed…"
Top of the sixth—Seidou went down in order.
That made it four consecutive scoreless innings for both teams.
"Rinichi, let's go with the knuckleball this inning," Miyuki said.
Rinichi gave him a surprised look, a faint smile forming as a dangerous glint flickered in his eyes. He agreed with a short nod.
A new pitch had already caught Inashiro off guard. Adding another unfamiliar pitch—even if it didn't throw them into total chaos—would still rattle them.
I won't give you even the slightest chance to score.
"Strike!"
A high-spin fastball on the outside corner, looking faster than 150 km/h.
Third pitch—the seventh batter froze for a split second, eyes widening, then swung and missed. The ball only dropped into Miyuki's glove afterward.
That pitch turned Inashiro's dugout pale.
A knuckleball?
"Strike! Batter out!"
Yoshizawa Hideaki slamd his fist into the railing, teeth clenched. "Just how many pitches does he have?!"
Sweat slid down Harada's temple as he looked at Rinichi on the mound—then shifted his gaze to Miyuki.
This… is serious trouble…
Multiple pitch types, none of them easy to hit—and with Miyuki's pitch calling on top of that…
"You've gotta be kidding … Kamishiro's like a bottomless black hole," Carlos muttered in disbelief.
"Strike! Batter out!"
"Strike! Batter out!"
They were completely shut down—
"Unbelievable. It's already the end of the sixth, and Inashiro still hasn't scored a run."
"Have you noticed how many different pitches Seidou's ace can throw?"
"Now that you ntion it… you're right."
"Co on, Inashiro, score already!"
Even the crowd was getting restless.
"How many pitches has Kamishiro thrown now?" Coach Kataoka asked.
The other three pitchers were curious too—they could all sense that Rinichi hadn't thrown many pitches.
"Forty-five," Chris answered.
Against Inashiro's lineup… only forty-five pitches?!
"The worst-case scenario," Chris continued, "is that we just rely on Kamishiro to keep holding them scoreless, and win with only those two runs."
Coach Kataoka fell silent.
And those nearby heard his words—especially the batters hitting ahead of Rinichi in the order. There was a faint sting of frustration.
Because if that were the case… wouldn't all the burden be on Rinichi's shoulders?
They were senpai, after all!
Suddenly, a stronger fighting spirit ignited within them.
Chris, watching from the side, smiled to himself—his plan had worked perfectly.
When Rinichi returned to the dugout, he was greeted by the sight of his senior teammates brimming with determination.
Rinichi: "…"
…Did sothing happen while I was gone?
Top of the seventh inning.
Inashiro now gave off a completely different vibe.
It was as if Rinichi's new pitch earlier hadn't shaken them at all.
But the scoreboard still read a two-run gap—and that ant the pressure was heavier on Inashiro.
They not only had to keep Seidou from scoring, but also had to find a way to put runs on the board themselves.
Rinichi slipped on his black batting gloves, his fingers hooking around the bat.
Two outs. Bases empty.
"Seventh batter, pitcher—Kamishiro," the announcer called.
Catcher Harada signaled for a low pitch.
You know full well—if you give him sothing hittable, he'll send it flying.
They could not afford to let Seidou's montum grow any further.
First pitch: splitter.
"Strike!"
Swing and miss.
Even though it was a good whiff, Harada still felt sothing was… off. But he couldn't put his finger on it.
Second pitch: changeup.
Now they had him in an 0–2 hole—
That's what you're thinking, right? Rinichi's lips curled into a faint smirk.
His knees bent slightly into an awkward stance, and as the ball ca into the hitting zone, he whipped the bat through.
The ball soared high.
Rinichi tossed the bat aside and started sprinting.
"It's over the wall!"
"Rinichi with another ho run!"
Even the announcer's voice had taken on excitent.
This was Rinichi's second ho run of the ga!
Harada was stunned.
That first splitter—Rinichi had swung and missed on purpose…
Every step of this had gone exactly as Rinichi had predicted.
Up in the stands, Shinomiya chuckled.
"In his past gas… hitting at least one ho run per ga is just his baseline."
His tone was casual, as if describing sothing utterly ordinary.
Takashima Rei, however, felt a storm churning inside her.
One ho run per ga… is just a baseline…
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