Chapter 38 Noboru Hayashi (1)

It was a packed stadium on a Sunday, casting long shadows across the diamond as Suma Tomogaoka High took the field for their third-round match. The tension in the air was palpable, as if everyone knew they were witnessing something special. The stadium buzzed with excitement, with families, students, and die-hard fans all crowding together, eager to see their school battle for a spot in the next round of the tournament.

At the heart of it all was Noboru Hayashi, Suma's ace pitcher, the one everyone had their eyes on.

Up in the stands, Shinjiro, Denji, and Emiko sat among the throngs of spectators, their eyes glued to the field below. Despite the lively atmosphere around them, a strange quietness hung between the trio. Noboru's presence on the mound dominated their thoughts, but there was an unspoken heaviness weighing them down.

Shinjiro leaned forward, his voice barely above a whisper, and eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Noboru held Seimei to one run the last time we faced them in the qualifiers for Koshien," he said, recalling the tension-filled game with a mixture of pride and admiration.

Denji grinned, leaning back in his seat, the excitement bubbling inside him as he recalled that day. "Yeah, Noboru was a beast! But you gotta admit, Kenji's homer was what sealed it for us in the end."

Shinjiro remained silent, his gaze firmly locked on the field, where Noboru stood tall on the mound, his body loose yet focused. His thoughts were miles away, consumed by his own struggles. As he watched Noboru wind up for the first pitch, he couldn't help but admire how composed and calm the pitcher was. Noboru was Suma's pillar, and it was evident that today, more than ever, the team was relying on him.

The sound of Noboru's fastball cutting through the air broke Shinjiro's concentration. He watched as it whizzed past the opposing batter before the player even had a chance to react.

Strike one.

The umpire's call echoed across the stadium, and the crowd roared in approval. Noboru showed no emotion, his face a mask of calm determination as he prepared for the next pitch.

Shinjiro's mind wandered again, this time to his own limitations. He admired Noboru, not just for his physical abilities but for the mental strength it took to be the ace. Shinjiro wondered if he'd ever be able to reach that level, especially now that he was struggling to adapt to pitching with his left hand. "How long will it take?" he thought to himself. "Months? Years? Will I ever step on the mound...."

Noboru wound up again on the mound, and this time the fastball was even faster, a blur of motion that seemed almost supernatural. The batter swung too late, the crack of the bat coming after the ball had already landed in the catcher's mitt.

Strike two.

The crowd erupted in applause, but Noboru remained unfazed. He never let the cheers or jeers get to him. His focus was absolute.

---

On the mound, Noboru wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the next pitch. In his mind, everything went quiet. The noise of the crowd, the pressure of the tournament, even the expectations of his teammates—all of it faded away, leaving only him, the ball, and the strike zone.

He knew the team was depending on him, but that wasn't what weighed most heavily on him. He was his own worst critic, his expectations of himself were far higher than anything the team or coach could put on him. Perfection, he thought as he wound up for another pitch. That's what they need from me. That's what I need from myself.

His threw again and the batter swung helplessly, the ball blazing past him.

Strike three.

The batter cursed under his breath, slamming his bat into the dirt before trudging back to the dugout. Noboru didn't watch him leave. His focus had already shifted to the next challenge.

In the stands, Emiko leaned forward, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of her seat. "He's unstoppable today," she whispered, her voice tinged with awe.

Denji nodded. "Yeah this guy's on another level!"

Shinjiro, though lost in thought moments earlier, couldn't help but agree. Noboru was in the zone, dominating the opposing batters with a relentless barrage of pitches. It wasn't just the speed of his pitches that was impressive—it was the precision. Every pitch seemed to hit its mark with pinpoint accuracy.

---

As the game progressed, the tension continued to build. Suma's defense remained solid, but everyone knew that Noboru was the one holding everything together. The scoreboard remained frozen at 0-0, and the pressure on both teams began to mount.

Noboru's teammates watched him in awe, their confidence in him unwavering. Masato, the catcher, was especially attuned to Noboru's rhythm. Every pitch Noboru threw seemed to come with a kind of electricity, and Masato knew that as long as Noboru was on the mound, they had a chance.

But Noboru wasn't just cruising. Each batter he faced chipped away at his focus, each one trying to unravel his mental fortitude.

He wiped the sweat from his brow again, preparing for the next pitch. The next batter was stronger than the others—he had a solid swing, and Noboru knew he couldn't let his guard down for even a second. He'd seen games turn on a single mistake, and he wasn't going to let that happen today.

The opposing team's cleanup hitter stepped into the batter's box, his eyes locked on Noboru. There was a quiet confidence in the way he stood, the way he held the bat. It was clear he wasn't intimidated, and for a brief moment, Noboru felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him.

He wound up for the pitch, his body moving in perfect synchronization. The ball exploded from his hand, hurtling toward the plate at blinding speed and sank.

Strike one.

The batter didn't flinch. He readied himself again, digging his cleats into the dirt as he prepared for the next pitch.

Noboru's heart raced, but he remained outwardly calm. He wound up again, this time throwing a curveball that dipped sharply as it approached the plate.

Strike two.

The crowd roared, sensing that Noboru was about to finish off another batter. The noise was deafening, but to Noboru, it was just background static.

He wound up one last time, putting everything he had into the pitch. His arm snapped forward, and the ball rocketed toward the plate, a blur of motion that the batter couldn't keep up with.

Strike three.

The crowd erupted in applause, but Noboru didn't bask in it. There was no time to celebrate, no time to rest. He turned back to the mound, already thinking about the next inning, the next batter, the next challenge.

---

The game remained tight, with neither team able to break through. As the innings wore on, it became clear that Noboru's dominance on the mound was the only thing keeping Suma in the game. The opposing team's pitchers were formidable as well, and Suma's batters were struggling to find any openings.

But Noboru didn't falter. Each inning seemed to push him harder, but he embraced the challenge.

In the dugout, Coach Fujimoto watched his ace with a mixture of pride and concern. "He's giving everything he has out there," the coach muttered to his assistant, his eyes narrowing. "But I wonder how long he can keep it up."

His assistant nodded, worry creasing his brow. "He's a machine, the opponents won't even get a run!"

Fujimoto grunted in response. "We need to give him some support. If our bats don't wake up soon, it won't matter how good Noboru pitches."

The game continued, with both teams locked in a stalemate. But in the bottom of the seventh inning, Suma finally broke through. Yamada, the captain, led off with a single, and Kazuya followed it up with a perfectly placed bunt that advanced Yamada to second.

The crowd began to stir, sensing a shift in momentum. Noboru, standing in the dugout between innings, allowed himself a small smile. "This is what we needed," he thought. "Just one more..."

The next batter, Masato, stepped up to the plate with a look of determination.