Chapter 16 Preliminaries (3)

Denji, was unusually quiet as he watched Shinjiro's home run sail into the stands. The stadium still buzzed with excitement, and the Nehimon team was in high spirits, celebrating their newfound lead. The crowd's roar was a backdrop to Denji's inner thoughts, which were brimming with a mix of awe and introspection.

He thought to himself, "Look at Shinjiro, man so inspirational....All those months of drills and hard work are paying off. We're really making it big now!" Denji's eyes followed Shinjiro as he rounded the bases, a broad smile stretching across his face. "Maybe it's time to step up my game, too and study English more to become Shinjiro's interpreter?

The idea excited him. He imagined himself at press conferences, translating for Shinjiro, and facilitating communication with international teams.

As the team continued to celebrate and the energy of the stadium enveloped him, Denji felt a new resolve. "Yeah, that's it. I'm gonna start taking online classes for English. We're going pro."

Amid the chaos, one figure stood out—a slightly disheveled man with thick glasses and a worn-out brown trench coat. His name was Hiroshi Takumi, While reporters were frantically typing notes or making phone calls making enquiries about Shinjiro, Hiroshi calmly flipped through an old notebook he always carried with him.

"Shinjiro Takumi," he muttered to himself with a small smile.

"Shinjiro Takumi, first-year, left fielder," Hiroshi said, his voice firm and authoritative, "Didn't even make the team in the summer due to some unknown issues. Most people don't know, but his father was a professional player, and so was his grandfather."

The other reporters stared at Hiroshi in surprise, their fingers hovering above their notepads.

"He quit little league when he was younger because of his poor talent for pitching," Hiroshi continued. "Switched to fielding this year trying to find a place in the team."

A wave of murmurs rippled through the small group of reporters. They exchanged glances, clearly impressed by the depth of Hiroshi's knowledge.

"Wait, how do you know all this?" one younger reporter finally asked, blinking in amazement.

Hiroshi chuckled softly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You do this long enough, you hear things. Takumi's father played for a mid-level pro team, but his career didn't last long because of injury."

"Unbelievable," another reporter whispered, jotting down notes furiously.

A few others nodded gratefully, murmuring their thanks as well. Hiroshi simply gave them a small nod before turning his attention back to the field. The day wasn't over, and there was still more to see. But he couldn't help the small smile creeping up on his face as the other reporters rushed off, eager to be the first to publish the story of the boy who had once feared his own power—only to now embrace it and lead his team to victory.

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The momentum was entirely with Nehimon after Shinjiro Takumi's electrifying three-run homer. As the game progressed, the tension in the air seemed to loosen, replaced with an air of inevitability. Nishinomiya Kita, once the dominant team in the league, looked shaken.

By the fourth inning, Nehimon had continued to pile on the pressure. With sharp base running and aggressive hitting, they managed to tack on two more runs—one from a sac fly and another from a line drive to left field by Daiki Matsuda. The score had ballooned to 6-0, and Nishinomiya Kita's hope of a comeback was dwindling.

When the seventh inning began, the crowd's noise had turned from nervous energy into an unstoppable wave of excitement. Nehimon's pitcher, a southpaw named Kohei Yoshida, was in complete control. His fastballs zipped into the catcher's glove with a ferocity that left Nishinomiya Kita's batters struggling to keep up. Each strike was a blow to their spirit, and by the middle of the seventh inning, it became clear that their will had been broken.

As the inning ended with another flawless defensive effort from Nehimon, the scoreboard remained lopsided at 6-0. The mercy rule loomed over the game like a dark cloud, but it was still possible for Nishinomiya Kita to mount a miraculous comeback.

Top of the eighth inning. Nehimon returned to the plate with the same laser focus that had carried them through the first seven innings. Kenji Tadeka stepped up, once again intentionally walked—Nishinomiya Kita's pitcher, Yamada, having learned his lesson about giving Kenji anything to hit. Daiki Matsuda, already with two hits in the game, capitalized on Yamada's tired arm and sent a blistering grounder past the infield, advancing Kenji to third base.

Now, with runners on the corners and no outs, Nishinomiya Kita was unraveling. The infielders conferred nervously, their body language betraying their exhaustion. Kenta Yamada's pitches were losing their bite, and his fastballs weren't hitting their spots. As Nehimon's next batter, Kaito Nakashima, approached, it was clear that the knockout blow was coming.

Kaito saw the opening pitch—a slider—and sent it into center field with ease. Kenji scored without contest, bringing the game to 7-0. The noise from the stands rose to a fever pitch as the fans sensed victory was within reach.

The Nishinomiya Kita coach walked to the mound, signaling a pitching change. Yamada handed over the ball, his shoulders slumped in defeat. A new pitcher stepped in, but the damage had already been done. Shinjiro Takumi, was next at the plate. The new pitcher, eager to make a statement, threw a wild fastball that Shinjiro didn't even flinch at. With a 3-1 count, he swung hard on the next pitch and sent the ball screaming into the right-field gap. Two more runs scored, pushing the lead to 9-0.

By the end of the eighth inning, Nishinomiya Kita looked drained. Nehimon's lead felt insurmountable, and as they took the field for what would likely be the final defensive stand, the murmurs of the mercy rule spread through the crowd.

The bottom of the eighth inning went by in a blur. Kohei, still dominant on the mound, struck out two batters in rapid succession, each swing from Nishinomiya Kita's batters more desperate than the last. The third batter hit a weak grounder to Kaito Nakashima at shortstop, who effortlessly tossed it to first base for the final out.

As Nehimon trotted back into the dugout, the umpire signaled to the official scorers. The mercy rule had been invoked. With Nehimon leading 9-0, the game was officially over after seven innings, and the victory was theirs.

The stadium erupted into a deafening roar, and Nehimon's players rushed onto the field, celebrating their triumph. The crowd chanted Shinjiro's name, recognizing his home run as the turning point that sealed the game's fate. Coaches hugged their players, and the teammates congratulated each other with a sense of pride and unity.

Nishinomiya Kita's players, dejected, filed back to their dugout, heads hanging low. They had been outplayed in every facet of the game, and there was no denying Nehimon's dominance. For Nehimon, it was a statement win.