(11) The Slugfest Revelation

Kanemaru sat in the stands, his heart racing as the game between Seidou and Ichidaisan High School unfolded before his eyes. The tension was palpable from the start, and it didn't take long for the game to explode into a back-and-forth slugfest.

Seidou's batting lineup was as powerful as ever. Each player stepped up to the plate with purpose, and Kanemaru watched in awe as they delivered hit after hit, sending balls flying across the field. The score ticked upward quickly, Seidou's offense looking nearly unstoppable.

They're monsters, Kanemaru thought, watching Yuki Tetsuya crush a ball deep into the outfield. The crowd erupted in cheers as another run came home, Seidou pulling ahead once again. This is the level we need to reach if we want to be up there with them.

But Ichidaisan wasn't backing down either. Their lineup was just as dangerous, their batters making solid contact and matching Seidou blow for blow. The scoreline kept swinging, turning the game into a fierce battle of offenses. Kanemaru couldn't help but feel the adrenaline surge through him as each inning passed.

Tanba's Struggle

As the game wore on, the pressure began to mount, not just for the batters but for the pitchers as well. Seidou's ace, Tanba, took the mound with the weight of the team's expectations on his shoulders. Kanemaru's eyes followed him closely, knowing this moment was critical.

Tanba, while experienced and capable, was far from perfect. He started off strong, his fastballs zipping past Ichidaisan's hitters, but as the innings dragged on, cracks in his performance began to show. His control wavered, and his pitches became more erratic. One moment, he would fire a perfect strike, and the next, his pitch would miss its mark entirely.

Kanemaru watched as Tanba let a pitch slip just outside the strike zone, walking the batter. The frustration was clear on Tanba's face, but he quickly wiped it away, trying to focus on the next hitter. Yet, as the inning progressed, it became evident that something wasn't right.

Ichidaisan capitalized on every small mistake. A missed pitch, a poorly placed fastball—each slip gave their batters the opportunity to close the gap. The once-safe lead that Seidou had built was shrinking with every swing.

Tanba's capable, but he's struggling, Kanemaru thought, his heart sinking as Ichidaisan's cleanup hitter sent a ball soaring into the outfield, bringing in two more runs. The score was tight, and Seidou's defense was beginning to falter under the pressure.

Kanemaru could see it—the weight of being Seidou's ace was heavy, and Tanba was shouldering it alone. His body language showed the strain, his shoulders tight as he tried to maintain control of the game. But the instability in his pitching was costing Seidou, and Ichidaisan wasn't letting up.

The Slugfest Continues

Despite the pitching struggles, Seidou's batting lineup refused to go down quietly. They continued to hammer Ichidaisan's pitchers, their bats delivering hit after hit. The lead shifted back and forth, the game turning into an intense slugfest, where offense ruled the day.

Kanemaru found himself gripping the edge of his seat, torn between admiration for the first-string batters and anxiety over Seidou's pitching. Every time Seidou pulled ahead, Ichidaisan clawed back, closing the gap with their own offensive power.

Yuki Tetsuya, always calm under pressure, continued to rally the team. His bat connected time and time again, sending balls rocketing into the outfield. His leadership on the field was undeniable, and Kanemaru couldn't help but feel a surge of inspiration watching him.

This is what it means to lead a team, Kanemaru thought as Yuki stepped up to the plate once more, delivering a line drive that brought in another run. To carry the hopes of everyone and never back down.

But even Yuki's powerful performance couldn't completely shield the team from their weaknesses. With every run they scored, Ichidaisan answered back. It was clear now—Seidou had a glaring problem, and it wasn't in their batting lineup.

The Realization

As the game reached its final innings, the score stood at 7-6, with Seidou barely holding onto the lead. Tanba had been pulled off the mound, replaced by another pitcher, but the damage was already done. The game had been a battle of offenses, and it had exposed Seidou's biggest vulnerability.

It doesn't matter how strong the lineup is if the pitchers can't hold the lead, Kanemaru thought grimly. He looked down at his hands, feeling the weight of the realization settling in. What Seidou needs isn't strong batters... they need reliable, capable pitchers.

Kanemaru's gaze shifted, but this time, it wasn't just the players on the field he was thinking about. His mind drifted back to those left behind at school—Sawamura and Furuya. Both freshmen with the potential to shape Seidou's future, but raw and unrefined.

They're the ones Seidou needs more, Kanemaru realized, his thoughts growing sharper. Their growth as pitchers is what's going to carry this team when it matters. Strong batters are necessary, but without the arms to back it up, we'll keep having games like this.

He watched as Seidou scraped by with a narrow 7-6 victory. The crowd cheered, but Kanemaru felt a strange emptiness. What good is a batter like me... half-baked, unable to hit anything other than fastballs? He realized the gap between the batters on the field and himself. If he wanted to truly contribute to Seidou, he needed more than just the basics.

The final out was made, and Seidou claimed the narrow 7-6 victory. The crowd cheered, but the players knew this win wasn't as satisfying as it should have been. Seidou had barely scraped by, their weaknesses glaring despite their offensive prowess.

Kanemaru stayed seated for a moment longer, lost in thought as the team began to file off the field. If I'm going to stand with them, I need to be better. Much better. The realization hit him harder than ever. Seidou didn't need just strong batters—they needed pitchers who could dominate and shape the course of the game.