Chapter 47 Quater-Final (5)

The third inning began with a tense silence as both teams and the crowd awaited the first batter. The announcer's voice echoed through the stadium, "Batting first, pitcher Ryoichi Kuroda!"

In the Seimei section of the stands, a group of boys wearing their school colors sat slouched with unimpressed looks.

"Ryoichi? He's pretty shit at batting," one of them muttered.

"He's human afterall," another agreed, rolling his eyes.

Down on the field, Noboru Hayashi, the ace pitcher for Suma Tomogaoka, stood on the mound, mentally preparing himself. His catcher, Masato, noticed Noboru's wandering gaze as he eyed Ryoichi stepping into the batter's box.

Masato, sensing Noboru's distraction, scowled under his mask. "What are you looking at? Don't worry about him," Masato said, thumping his chest with his mitt to keep Noboru focused.

But Noboru wasn't focused on Ryoichi. His eyes were scanning ahead, locking on the on-deck circle where Seimei's captain, Kenji Tadeka, was swinging his bat, preparing to hit next.

"We should walk him," Noboru said, his voice low, a hint of unease creeping into his tone.

Masato turned sharply to face Noboru, his eyes flashing with defiance. "That would ruin our momentum. Just pitch your best, right into my mitt."

Noboru hesitated but gave a short nod, determined to shake off the nerves. He adjusted his grip on the ball, his fingers pressing against the seams as he wound up for the first pitch. The stadium held its breath as the ball left his hand with a sharp, whipping motion.

The ball sailed inside, too close for comfort, almost brushing Ryoichi's face. The crowd collectively gasped as Ryoichi instinctively leaned back.

"Ball one!" the umpire called out.

Masato tossed the ball back to Noboru, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Ryoichi. Noboru followed his catcher's gaze, locking eyes with Ryoichi. It wasn't an apology, it was a challenge—a silent dare.

Ryoichi clenched his teeth, cursing internally. That bastard. Not even an apology? Don't fuck with me…

Stepping back into the box, Ryoichi steadied himself, tightening his grip on the bat. He wasn't known for his batting, but today felt different. The slight hum of tension in the air, the pressure, and that near brush with the pitch had ignited something in him.

Noboru wound up again and sent two fastballs right down the middle, testing Ryoichi's patience.

"Strike one!" the umpire shouted as Ryoichi watched the first one go by without flinching. The second one zipped past his bat, faster than the first.

"Strike two!"

Ryoichi's eyes narrowed, his glare shooting daggers toward Noboru. His fingers tightened around the bat. He could hear the murmurs from the crowd, the taunts from the fans in the stands.

Masato signaled for a breaking ball, wanting to switch things up and confuse Ryoichi, but Noboru shook his head. He wanted to end this at-bat with force. He wound up once more, delivering another fastball down the middle, confident in his ability to overpower Ryoichi.

But this time, Ryoichi was ready. As the ball hurtled toward him, he swung hard. The ping of the bat meeting the ball echoed through the stadium. The crowd went silent for a heartbeat, then erupted in shock.

The ball sailed past the infield, a clean single.

"Ryoichi swung!?!" A boy in the crowd shouted in disbelief.

"No way!" Another chimed in, eyes wide with shock.

Ryoichi smirked as he jogged to first base, glaring back at Noboru. "No one's stupid enough to throw three straight pitches into the same spot, fucker," he muttered under his breath, chest swelling with pride.

Coach Nakamura, watching from the dugout, gave a subtle nod to Ryoichi, signaling for him to steal if the opportunity arose. He then turned his attention to Kenji, who was stepping up to bat. The coach had talked to him before."You know what to do," he said firmly.

Kenji gave a confident nod and walked toward the plate. Noboru, on the mound, cursed under his breath, his confidence rattled after Ryoichi's unexpected hit. Masato sighed internally, throwing a quick glance at Noboru. See? Next time, don't refuse my calls, he thought.

Kenji stood at the plate, twirling the bat in his hands before pointing it directly at Noboru. "Bring it!" he shouted, his voice dripping with confidence. The crowd stirred, feeling the tension building.

In the Suma dugout, Coach Fujimoto leaned toward his assistant, his eyes sharp with focus. "That player, Kenji… he's scored most of their runs this season. We have to make a statement right here and strike him out."

Noboru wound up, throwing a high fastball with a little extra force, trying to blow it past Kenji. Kenji swung, but missed, the ball smacking loudly into Masato's mitt.

The Suma fans erupted. "Nice, Nobo! Nice pitch!" they shouted in unison, their cheers filling the stadium.

Masato's eyes narrowed as he watched Kenji. —This guy!? he has the timing down....he's dangerous

Kenji muttered to himself as he reset his stance, "Feel it with the body…" His eyes widened slightly, a focused intensity overcoming him.

Masato felt the pressure building. He signaled for another high pitch, but this time, the pitch drifted out of the zone.

"Ball!" the umpire called.

Masato cursed under his breath. He's getting rattled. We need to get out of this inning.

From the stands, the Suma fans rallied behind their pitcher, shouting words of encouragement. "It's still early! Don't panic!!! Throw like always!! Noboru, we're behind you!!"

Noboru took a deep breath, their chants echoing in his ears. So many people are counting on me, he thought. I have to strike him out here.

He wound up again, telling himself to relax, to trust his body. As the ball left his hand, Masato's eyes widened behind the mask. The trajectory was perfect at first, but as it approached the plate, something was off. Drop, drop! Masato silently willed it, but the ball didn't break.

Kenji's bat met the pitch with a solid ping, sending the ball flying toward left field. Riku Tanaka the left fielder sprinted back, his heart racing. It's going to be close! he thought, pushing himself for a diving catch. Another player shouted behind him, "Don't be reckless!!"

He dove, his mitt outstretched, the ball glanced off the edge of the glove and rolled deeper into the outfield.

The Seimei players leaped up in the dugout, shouting as Ryoichi tore around third base. The commentator's voice boomed. "The runner on first makes it home! The runner on first is past second base, going for third!"

An outfield player scrambled to recover the ball, throwing a canon to third base as Kenji slid in.

"Safe!!" as the plate umpire called, his arms outstretched.

The Seimei fans erupted in cheers, their voices rising in a deafening roar. The scoreboard updated: 2-2.

Noboru clenched his fist, frustration boiling inside him. Damn it!!

Masato jogged over to the mound, noticing the tension in Noboru's clenched jaw and tight grip on the ball. He slowed as he approached, hands on his hips, a faint smile on his lips.

"Hey," he began casually, "why did the baseball team go to the bakery?"

Noboru shot him a sideways glare, clearly not in the mood. "What?"

Masato shrugged, his tone nonchalant. "Because they needed a batter."

Noboru blinked, staring blankly at Masato as the silence stretched between them.

Masato scratched the back of his neck, sensing the joke had missed.

Noboru let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "That was a terrible joke man...."

Masato smiled, undeterred. "Maybe. But I got you to stop thinking about that last pitch, didn't I?"

Noboru's shoulders relaxed just a bit, his grip on the ball loosening, a determined gleam returning to his eyes. "Yeah. Let's finish this, inning."