Chapter 39 Noboru Hayashi (2)

For the next batter, Masato, the cleanup hitter, this was the kind of moment he thrived in. He twirled the bat in his hands, adjusting his stance as the opposing pitcher wound up. The tension in the stadium was thick, with every eye focused on the duel about to unfold.

Noboru stood in the dugout, his breath steady as he watched Masato prepare. He could feel the momentum swinging in their favor, but he knew how fragile that momentum could be. A single mistake could shift the game back to their opponents. His mind raced with the implications, but his heart remained steady.

The opposing pitcher, feeling the pressure, tried to throw a fastball low and inside, but it missed its mark. Ball one.

Masato didn't flinch. He stepped out of the batter's box, took a deep breath, and stepped back in. His eyes locked onto the pitcher, his mind calculating every possible outcome of the next pitch.

The pitcher wound up again, this time aiming for the outside corner of the plate. Masato's muscles tensed, and in that brief second, he saw the ball coming, almost in slow motion. He swung hard, his bat making solid contact with the ball, sending it screaming down the right field line.

The crowd exploded into cheers as the ball sailed over the right fielder's head. Yamada was already rounding third, sprinting toward home with everything he had. The ball bounced off the wall, and by the time the right fielder had thrown it back to the infield, Yamada had crossed home plate, his teammates erupting in celebration.

1-0, Suma Tomogaoka.

Masato pumped his fist as he reached second base, adrenaline surging through his veins. He glanced back at the dugout, where Noboru and the rest of the team were on their feet, cheering him on. This was the breakthrough they had been waiting for.

Kazuya, now standing on third base, clapped his hands and called out encouragement to the next batter, Riku , who stepped up to the plate. With a runner in scoring position, the pressure was on to extend the lead. The pitcher, rattled from Masato's hit, took a deep breath before winding up again.

Riku was known for his patience at the plate, and he wasn't going to swing at anything that wasn't perfect. The first pitch was a cutter that missed low. Ball one.

The pitcher, clearly frustrated, shook his head and prepared for the next pitch. He threw a fastball, trying to regain control, but Riku let it go by—ball two.

Riku's calm, almost zen-like approach was starting to get to the pitcher. The crowd sensed the tension, and the noise level in the stadium began to rise.

Finally, on the third pitch, Riku saw what he was looking for—a loose changeup. He swung, sending the ball bouncing into the gap between shortstop and third base. Kazuya sprinted home as the ball dribbled into the outfield.

2-0, Suma Tomogaoka.

The dugout erupted in cheers once more. Noboru allowed himself a moment of satisfaction, but he knew the job wasn't done yet. They had a lead, but there was still a lot of game left to play, and his role wasn't over.

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As the game progressed into the final innings, Noboru found himself back on the mound, his body tired but his mind laser-focused. The adrenaline from taking the lead had carried him through the previous inning, but now the fatigue was starting to set in. His arm felt heavier with each pitch, and the heat of the day was sapping his energy.

As the eighth inning drew to a close, Noboru glanced toward the dugout, where Coach Fujimoto was watching him closely. He could tell the coach was considering pulling him from the game, but Noboru shook his head subtly. Not yet, he thought. "I've got one more inning in me."

Coach Fujimoto hesitated for a moment before giving a slight nod. He trusted Noboru, and if the ace believed he could finish the game, then he would let him. But there was a quiet tension between them—both knowing that Noboru was pushing his limits.

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The top of the ninth inning arrived, and Noboru took the mound for what would hopefully be the final time. His legs felt heavy, and his arm was beginning to throb, but he blocked it all out. "Just three more outs. That's all I need."

The first batter stepped up, a hulking power hitter who had been quiet all game. Noboru knew that this player could change the game with one swing, and he couldn't afford to make a mistake.

He wound up, his body moving through the familiar motions, and released a screwball toward the outside corner. The batter swung and missed—strike one.

The next pitch was a splitter, and it broke just as it reached the plate. The batter hesitated, then swung late—strike two.

Noboru's heart pounded in his chest as he prepared for the final pitch. He knew he had to dig deep, to push past the exhaustion and deliver one more perfect throw. He wound up, his entire body screaming in protest, and released the ball.

The batter swung hard, but the ball was already past him before his bat made contact.

Strike three.

The crowd roared, and Noboru allowed himself a small smile as he watched the batter walk dejectedly back to the dugout. Two more outs. I can do this.

The next batter was less imposing, but Noboru knew he couldn't let his guard down. He repeated the same process, painting the corners with fastballs and breaking balls, keeping the batter off balance. The result was the same—strike three.

Now, there was only one out left.

Noboru's body was on the verge of collapse, but he refused to give in. "One more," he told himself, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Just one more."

The final batter stepped up to the plate, clearly aware of the stakes. The crowd was on its feet, the noise reaching a deafening level. Noboru took a deep breath, his mind focused on the strike zone, blocking out everything else.

He wound up and threw a fastball, but this time, it didn't have the same velocity. The batter connected, sending a ground ball bouncing toward third base.

Endo, Suma's third baseman, reacted instantly, diving to his left and snagging the ball just before it could reach the outfield. In one fluid motion, he popped up and fired the ball to Akira at first base.

The crowd held its breath as the ball sailed across the diamond. Out.

The umpire's call was almost drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Suma Tomogaoka had done it—2-0, victory secured.

Noboru collapsed onto the mound, exhausted but triumphant. His teammates rushed the field, surrounding him, their cheers blending with the noise from the stands. Noboru allowed himself a moment of pride as he watched his teammates celebrate. "We did it," he thought, a sense of calm washing over him.

In the stands, Shinjiro, Denji, and Emiko were admist the rest of the fans in cheering for their rivals. Shinjiro couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. "Will I ever be able to pitch like that...."

Denji nudged him, breaking through his thoughts. "You okay man? You've been kinda quiet the whole game."

Shinjiro forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine....just thing thinking about our next game."

Denji didn't press further, but Emiko gave Shinjiro a concerned look. "You know, you don't have to keep everything inside."

Shinjiro nodded but didn't respond. Instead, he watched as Noboru stood at the center of the celebration, his expression serene amidst the chaos.