DOOOONG
Hiroki swung with all of his might, hitting the ball dead center. The sound reverberated through the arena, causing a wave of cheers to follow.
“ORYAHH!”
Ken shouted out loud, sounding exactly like their captain Makoto. He couldn’t help himself after seeing the familiar sight of Hiroki hitting a bomb.
Hiroki laughed out loud midway towards first base, feeling the tension leave his body. He watched the ball soar into right field for a while, confirming that it was indeed a ho run.
Gustavo began to seethe on the mound, especially after hearing Hiroki let out a laugh. He gripped his glove tightly and tried to restrain himself as he watched the guy jog around the bases.
As soon as he saw the guy past 2nd base, he saw a pair of eyes staring back at him, causing him to freeze in place.
Jorge looked at him as if he was a piece of trash on the side of the road.
His anger lost its focus, causing him to reflect. Without saying a word, Jorge was able to snap Gustavo out of his dangerous fra of mind and bring him back.
He sent a wordless apology to Jorge before trying to compose himself.
The Cuban coach was already looking for a replacent within their ranks, yet he held his tongue upon seeing the teen regain his composure.
It would look real bad if he were to switch out his starting pitcher in the first inning, particularly after he’d only thrown 5 pitches. That would be like throwing in the towel and giving their opponents a morale boost.
‘I’ll give him till the end of the inning to shape up.’ He thought inwardly as he adjusted his cap.
“Nice hit Hiroki!” Masayuki was waiting at ho plate for the guy, sending a blitzing high five his way.
“Haha, thanks Captain.”
He had a large grin on his face as he made his way back to the dugout. Yet it quickly changed once a rain of slaps atop his helt ensued.
Ken sent him a wicked grin as he stood by the side.
“Feels like ho right?”
Hiroki froze in place before smiling. If he was being perfectly honest, he felt rather nervous coming to another country to play the sport he loved.
Ken’s imitation of Makoto’s catchphrase and the slaps on his helt reminded him of Yokohama. It was likely that Ken had told the team to do so while he was running around the bases.
A surge of emotion rose up from within him at this thought and he looked at Ken in another light.
Despite being younger than him, Ken sotis acted like he was much older and more mature. Tis like this reminded Hiroki of just how cognizant and aware Ken was of those around him.
His train of thought was broken as the announcer called up the next batter to the box.
“Batting 4th, Catcher, Daichi.”
Daichi stepped into the batters box, his face filled with determination. He wanted to get back at the Cuban team who had managed to steal two ho runs off him earlier.
Despite seeing that the pitcher had already cald down from his earlier outburst, he knew that they were in a great position to score so more runs.
Japan were currently leading 3-2 and still had no outs in the first inning.
Gustavo stared down the lane at his catcher, his face now showing no emotion. He nodded in the next mont, accepting the lead.
He wound up and sent the ball whipping out from his arm.
Daichi’s eyes inspected the pitch thoroughly as he made so ntal calculations.
‘Outside and low, plenty of spin. I can hit it!’
He easily identified the pitch as a slider and planted his left foot before swinging wide to chase the ball to the outside.
DONG
“Tch.”
Daichi clicked his tongue, yet threw the bat and ran as fast as he could. The ball sailed towards the the back fence, but the angle and carry was not high enough to make it over for a ho run.
In fact, the ball bounced off the bottom of the wall and rolled back onto the field to where the right outfielder was waiting.
“Third!”
For so reason, instead of stopping at 2nd base, Daichi accelerated. He flew past the second base, doing well to not disrupt his pace as he stepped on the bag.
Even the third base coach was surprised that he continued his run. He watched as the ball was thrown towards him, quickly giving the sign to slide as he watched Daichi approach at top speed.
‘I can make it…’
Daichi pushed through, removing all distractions from his mind in that mont. He dived forward, propelling himself along the ground into a slide, reaching out as if his life depended on it.
And then he felt it. The bag and the tag on his arm at almost the exact sa ti.
Both Manuel and Daichi looked up at the umpire who was just a few feet away from the play, their eyes filled with question.
“S-Safe!”
The umpire extended his arms to the side and shouted safe after a few monts.
The call was accompanied by a cheer from the Japan dugout and a groan of protest by the Cuban players on the field.
“You can’t be serious! There’s no way that he was safe.” Manuel said animatedly. His large stature seed threatening, yet he kept his distance from the umpire.
It was clear that he had a lot more self control than so others on the team.
However, the umpire shook his head and ignored the player. Once he’d made a decision, he wouldn’t take it back.
Perhaps if this was a n’s National Team match they would have instant replay available, but that was not the case now.
Daichi let out a sigh of relief as he got off the ground, making sure to keep at least one part of his body touching the bag at all tis.
Afterwards, he sent a grin to Ken who was walking onto the field before turning his attention to a certain girl in the dugout.
Ken shook his head and let out a hollow chuckle.
‘What a show off.’
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