"Pop!"
"Strike, batter's out!"
"Three outs! Change sides!"
A razor-sharp fastball left Tanba-senpai with no room to react, completely overpowering him and sealing the third out of the second inning.
"Not the sa as the first inning, huh? This one was pure power pitching."
"Yeah, looks like they were adjusting. Last inning Miyuki seed to be holding back Furuya's velocity and life on the ball, and the third-years pounced on it. Now they've changed the plan."
"Furuya should be pitching like this all along."
"A fastball breaking 150 km/h in high school—that's insane. At this rate, he might hit 160 km/h in the future."
"Hah, very possible. This kid's grown so much in just a year."
"Before we knew it, Seidou's practically beco the kingdom of pitchers."
"Yeah—Sawamura, Furuya, and Kawakami's form is sharper than ever."
"If the new team shes better and the batting lineup levels up, next sumr we might actually see a championship repeat."
"Yeah, I'm honestly looking forward to what these guys will show next year."
"Mm! Mm! Mm!!"
On the mound, Furuya's wild, unrestrained delivery had the fans buzzing, their voices rising in excitent.
Seidou had always been a powerhouse known nationwide for their bats—but for years they lacked a true ace to anchor them.
Strong hitters, a genius catcher—yes. But a pitcher worthy of carrying the team? Absent.
All of that changed this spring.
Furuya's blazing heater had caught everyone's attention right from the start. He was even the first freshman promoted to the first string. At the ti, people assud he was the future ace of Seidou.
And then Eijun burst onto the scene.
If Furuya's 150 km/h heater was a talent visible to the naked eye, then Eijun's teoric rise was sothing no one could have predicted.
Outing after outing, saving his team again and again, showing growth ga by ga, until by sumr's end he had conquered everyone with his fire and grit.
The "Diamond Ace."
Sawamura Eijun.
He beca the player the entire nation turned their eyes toward.
Even now—though this mont on the mound belonged to Furuya—the gaze of many still drifted toward Eijun. Because at Seidou High, "Ace" had beco synonymous with him.
In the dugout on the first-base side, Eijun jogged back in after the inning, hardly noticing the weight of those stares anymore.
Ever since leading Seidou to the national championship, he'd grown used to the spotlight.
Right now, there was only one thing on his mind: beating the senpai standing across from them.
anwhile, on the third-base side, the seniors ignored the buzz of the crowd. To them, one thing mattered above all else: crushing these cocky underclassn.
This was their final battle, the last chance to assert their pride and dignity as seniors. Through this ga, they wanted to pass sothing on to the next generation.
Both sides were already fully committed—this wasn't just a fun OB match. It was war.
"Bottom of the second inning. Batting for the first- and second-years, the fourth batter, catcher, Miyuki Kazuya!"
As Miyuki stepped into the box—
"Play ball!!"
The powerful shout of Coach Kataoka echoed behind him.
In that instant, Chris-senpai behind the plate and Tanba-senpai on the mound exchanged glances. Both nodded.
The battery had made their decision without a word.
Tanba raised his leg high, then drove forward, his right arm whipping through with force. A flash of light cut through the air.
"Whoosh!"
The ball burst into the strike zone.
Miyuki spread his stance, the bat whipping through with a sharp, decisive swing.
"Swish!"
The ball dropped at the last mont, a forkball sinking viciously.
Unmoved, calm eyes fixed on the pitch—
"Clang!!"
The bat t the ball with a sharp crack.
Miyuki's brows knit instantly, feeling the heavy impact reverberate through his hands. It wasn't just raw velocity—it was the deception of Tanba's arm angle. The forkball's sharp dive, made nastier by a subtle adjustnt in release point, had turned the ball into sothing far more dangerous.
So that's it, Miyuki thought. A tiny angle change, and the forkball becos nearly unhittable. Truly, that's Chris-senpai for you.
The ball shot down the third-base line, bouncing foul.
"Out!"
Third baseman Masuko leapt, gloved it clean, and fired across the diamond.
"Whoosh!"
"Pop!"
First baseman Yuuki caught it clean, erasing Miyuki's sprint before he'd covered even a third of the distance.
"Batter out!"
The umpire's voice rang clear.
"Nice pitch, Tanba!!"
"Haha, that's how it should be, Tanba! Show that scheming Miyuki what real senpai power looks like!"
"Yeah, that's right, Koichirou! Teach these cocky brats a proper lesson!"
Miyuki's expression darkened slightly as he stopped along the first-base line. With a small shake of his head, he turned back toward his own dugout.
But on his way back, his ears caught the booming, energetic shout from the outfield—Isashikki-senpai's voice, brimming with vigor.
Miyuki's face twitched, a black line practically crossing his forehead.
Scheming? Really? Why is it always 'scheming'?
Still, beneath the irritation, his sharp eyes narrowed toward the mound.
"But still… this really is nothing like the sumr," Miyuki thought to himself. "The angles, the speed, the late life on the ball, even his delivery… In just three months, Tanba-senpai hasn't regressed at all. If anything—he's beco even more fearso."
Miyuki's gaze lingered on the imposing figure of Tanba atop the mound, a flicker of reluctant admiration in his eyes.
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