Chapter 64 Semi-Final (3)

Shinjiro dropped onto the bench with a satisfied sigh, feeling the adrenaline still buzzing through his veins. Kenji, their captain, gave his hair a ruffle as he sat beside him.

"That was some hit," Kenji said, shaking his head in amazement. "Put me on, what are you using?"

Kenji eyed him suspiciously as the other players gathered around. Shunichi, leaned closer, curious as well. "Yeah, come on, what's the secret? How'd you nail that throw?"

Shinjiro paused, removing his helmet and gloves with deliberate slowness, enjoying the moment as the team waited expectantly.

"You guys really want to know?" Shinjiro asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

They nodded, leaning in closer. "Yeah, spill it!" they urged.

Shinjiro turned his gaze to Emiko, who was busy sorting equipment on the sidelines. She sensed his stare and looked up, a bit flustered.

"What?" she asked, her face starting to turn red. "Why are you looking at me like that!?"

Shinjiro pointed at her, his expression turning deadly serious. "Her."

The players blinked, glancing from Shinjiro to Emiko in confusion. "What about her?" they asked.

Shinjiro slowly reached into his bag and pulled out a thermos, the metal canister reflecting the afternoon sun. His face was unreadable as he unscrewed the top.

"This right here is my secret weapon," he said gravely, holding it up for all to see.

The players exchanged puzzled glances. Kenji grabbed the thermos before anyone could stop him. "Gimme that!" He took a big gulp, his face contorting immediately.

The game resumed, and the commentator's voice echoed

, "The score is still 2-0, Seimei in the lead as we head into the top of the third inning. Ryo Watanabe hit a sac fly to center, advancing the runner to first base. Now, with one out, Shukugawa's captain, Rikuto Sakurai, steps up to bat."

The Shukugawa fans were in full force, beating drums and singing their team's anthem, their voices growing louder as Rikuto made his way to the batter's box. His imposing frame cast a long shadow across home plate, his grip on the bat tight as he glared toward the mound.

Daiki, Seimei's catcher, sized up the Shukugawa captain. He's crowding the plate, looking for something inside? I'll give it to you. Daiki's fingers flashed the sign for an inside fastball, and Kazuya nodded from the mound. His breath came in steady but heavy as he wound up, the ball leaving his hand with a sharp crack of his wrist.

The fastball zipped toward Rikuto's chest. He let it go, watching the ball sail just inside the zone.

"Strike one!" the umpire called, his voice cutting through the roar of the crowd.

Rikuto's expression didn't change. He adjusted his stance, still crowding the plate. He dug his cleats into the dirt, his eyes locked on Kazuya, daring him to throw it again.

Daiki called for another fastball, this time low and away, Kazuya's muscles tightened as he delivered, the ball coming in hard and fast. Rikuto, eager to connect, swung with all his strength, but the ball darted beneath his bat, sailing into Daiki's glove with a loud pop.

"Strike two!"

Rikuto cursed inwardly. Damn it, he's better than I expected. How is he a backup pitcher....

The Shukugawa fans, sensing the mounting tension, began to chant louder. Their drums echoed through the stadium, but Rikuto tuned it all out. He needed to adjust.

Daiki signaled for a forkball to finish him off. Kazuya wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded, winding up again. The ball flew toward the plate with deceptive speed, its trajectory dipping sharply at the last second. Rikuto swung, but the ball dropped out of his reach. His bat cut through nothing but air.

"Strike three! Batter out!"

The crowd, both Seimei's and Shukugawa's, fell silent for a moment as they processed what had just happened. Shukugawa's captain, the pillar of their offense, had just struck out. The sound of drums faded, replaced by quiet disbelief from Shukugawa's supporters.

In Seimei's dugout, the players cheered, their energy renewed. The players clapped Kazuya on the back as he walked off the mound, grinning from ear to ear. "That's how it's done! Let's keep this up!"

Kenta Imamiya approached the plate next, ready to redeem his team. The Shukugawa supporters began to stir again, their cheers growing louder.

Meanwhile, on first base, Ryo Watanabe was taking a larger and larger lead, his eyes constantly darting between Kazuya and the first baseman. Kazuya could feel Ryo's presence, a nagging thought in the back of his mind. That's a big lead! he thought, he threw to first base.

Unable to ignore the threat still, Kazuya threw to first again, but Ryo dove back to the base just in time.

"Safe!" the umpire called, but Ryo's lead didn't shrink. He smirked, his confidence growing with each throw.

In the next pitch Kenta hit a line drive to right field. The ball had found the gap between the infielders, allowing Ryo to score easily from second base. Now, the score was 2-1, with Kenta standing on first base, his cleats firmly digging into the dirt.

Kazuya's mind raced as he looked toward Daiki Matsuda, his catcher. Daiki knew the stakes—their lead had just been cut in half. The energy from the crowd was shifting, with the Shukugawa fans roaring louder after the run. Coach Nakamura stood on the top step of the dugout, arms crossed, observing the situation closely.

Daiki walked out to the mound, frustration written across his face. He placed his glove on Kazuya's chest, forcing the pitcher to look him in the eyes. "This is not like you man. Stop worrying about the runner. We need this out."

Kazuya nodded, but Daiki wasn't done. "I don't know what's on your head right now, but don't fight alone. Look around, Kazuya. We're all behind you."

Kazuya's gaze flicked toward Kenji Tadeka, Seimei's captain, standing out in center field. His eyes were locked on Kazuya, the intensity in his gaze impossible to ignore. Kenji's presence was steady, unwavering, and Kazuya felt a flicker of the conversation they'd had during practice replaying in his mind.

---

The field had been empty except for Kenji and Kazuya, the two of them lingering after practice. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the diamond.

"If we lose the next game, I'm done with baseball..." Kazuya had said, his voice flat, but the weight of the words had hung heavy in the air.

Kenji had stopped mid-throw, turning to face him. "What!? Why would you quit?"

Kazuya hadn't looked up. "I made a promise with my dad. I promised him I'd quit this season anyways, if we don't make it to the Meiji Jingu tournament, that determines the falls champions this would be my last tournament.

Kenji had taken a few steps toward him, his voice urgent. "No way....let's tell the others. We can maybe..."

But Kazuya had shaken his head. "No. It's my burden to carry."

---

Kazuya took a deep breath, shaking off the memory. This isn't just about me. I have to trust Daiki and throw right into his mitt.

Daiki jogged back to his spot behind the plate, crouching low as he gave the signal. Seiji Uebayashi, Shukugawa's center fielder, was next at bat.

Kazuya wound up and delivered the first pitch, a low pitch and inside. Seiji didn't swing, watching it carefully as it sailed just out of the zone.

"Ball one."

Daiki nodded at Kazuya, giving him a small gesture of encouragement. The second pitch was a fastball high in the zone. Seiji swung hard, but the ball sailed over his bat.

"Strike one!"

Kazuya exhaled, feeling the pressure begin to ease. The crowd was loud, but his mind was clear now. The third pitch was a fastball in the outside corner. Seiji swung, but his timing was off.

"Strike two!"

Seiji muttered under his breath, adjusting his stance. He'painting the corners. I need to time this right.

In the stands, Renjiro, one of the reporters covering the game, nudged his colleague, Yamamoto. "He's hitting his spots perfectly."

Yamamoto nodded. "Yeah,he's quite good and this is against Shukugawa, if this were any other team, Kazuya would be the ace."

Daiki signaled for a changeup, knowing Seiji was now desperate to make contact. Kazuya nodded, focusing on Daiki.

Kazuya nodded at Daiki's signal for the changeup, gripping the ball tightly as he wound up. The stadium felt like it was holding its breath, everyone waiting for the next move. His motion was smooth, the ball slipping from his hand as it dropped toward the plate with less velocity than the previous fastballs.

Seiji's eyes widened. He had anticipated something faster, but it was too late. He swung hard, his bat slicing through the air, but his timing was completely off.

The ball barely made contact, dribbling off the end of Seiji's bat toward the mound.

Kazuya reacted immediately, charging forward to field the ball. His glove scooped it up smoothly, and in one fluid motion, he fired it to first base. Haruto, Seimei's first baseman, stretched out his glove as the ball smacked into the pocket with a solid thud, then he sent it to second.

"Out!" the umpire called, his voice echoing through the stadium.

The Seimei fans erupted into cheers, their voices rising in unison, while Kazuya stood tall on the mound, exhaling deeply. The tension that had gripped him earlier had finally begun to release. The Shukugawa fans groaned as their chance to extend the lead slipped away.

In the dugout, Kengo and Take watched intently. Kengo stood up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles. He had been studying Kazuya's pitching, watching his tempo and rhythm.

"Looks like he's gaining some momentum," Take murmured, his voice low.

Kengo flashed a grin, his gaze sharp as he turned toward the field. "Doesn't matter. When it's our turn again, we'll put him right back under pressure."

Take grinned back, adjusting his catcher's gear. "Just trust your fastball. We'll let the defense do the work."

Coach Taira, Shukugawa's head coach, stepped up behind Kengo and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Stay aggressive. Let them hit your fastball, and trust your infielders."

Kengo nodded confidently. "Yes, sir."

As Kengo stepped onto the mound for the bottom of the third, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The game was balanced delicately, with Seimei holding a 2-1 lead, but Seimei's batters were still dangerous, and Kengo knew they wouldn't back down easily.

The first batter up was Koji Nakamura, Seimei's third baseman. Koji had been studying Kengo from the dugout, watching how he handled the first two innings. Kengo's fastball was deadly, but it was his unpredictable knuckleball that Koji feared the most. He adjusted his batting gloves, taking a deep breath as he stepped into the box.

Kengo wound up, his motion fluid as he released the first pitch—a fastball down the middle. Koji reacted quickly, but the ball blazed past his bat, catching the inside corner.

"Strike one!" the umpire called.

Koji gritted his teeth, stepping back to readjust. Kengo's fastball was faster than it looked from the dugout, and Koji had misjudged the timing.

In the next batter's circle, Kenji Tadeka, Seimei's captain, watched intently. His arms were crossed as his eyes followed Kengo's every movement.

Kengo wound up again, this time sending a knuckleball toward the plate. The ball danced in the air, its unpredictable path throwing off Koji's swing. He lunged at the pitch, but it dipped out of reach, dropping into the strike zone.

"Strike two!"

Koji stepped up to the plate, his mind racing as he recalled Coach Nakamura's words: "Wait for the last minute to hit those fastballs. Let the movement work against him." Koji knew Kengo's pitches had late movement, but if he waited just a fraction longer, he could make contact.

Kengo delivered a fastball, and Koji swung, making weak contact. The ball dribbled toward Shukugawa's third baseman, who charged in, fielding it cleanly before firing it to first base.

"Out!" the umpire declared, his voice cutting through the crowd's mixed reactions.

In the Seimei dugout, Coach Nakamura folded his arms, eyes narrowing. Not enough. We need more than weak contact if we're going to break through.

The stadium buzzed with tension as Kenji Tadeka, Seimei's captain and center fielder, strode up to the plate. The Shukugawa fans began muttering, sensing a moment of danger, while Seimei's supporters leaned forward in their seats. They knew Kenji was capable of shifting the game's momentum with one swing.

Take, Shukugawa's catcher, signaled to Kengo for a high fastball. Kengo nodded, winding up and firing the pitch with velocity. Kenji reacted instantly, swinging hard. The crack of the bat echoed as the ball shot up but toward the foul line.

The Seimei dugout erupted in collective anticipation, players jumping to their feet, watching as the ball soared… and hooked foul, landing just outside the right field stands.

"Ahhh, so close!" the Seimei players groaned, clapping their hands in frustration.

The Shukugawa fans exhaled in relief, some muttering nervously, while others exchanged worried glances. That swing had power. Too much power. They could feel Kenji had dialed in on Kengo's fastball.

On the mound, Kengo clenched his jaw, his mind buzzing. That was way too close. Fuck, he almost got all of that one.

Kenji tightened his grip on the bat, rolling his shoulders to shake off the near miss. It moves a lot, he thought, recalling the sharp tail at the end of Kengo's fastball. But what I really want… is that knuckleball. His eyes focused, determined, locking onto Kengo. Throw me that knuckleball...

Take studied Kenji's intense focus and felt a knot form in his stomach. He's locked in. He's going to hit anything we pitch. The thought of facing Kenji with another strike gnawed at him. Should he call for the knuckleball? No… too risky. He's expecting it.

Take stood up, glancing at Kengo and signaling for an intentional walk.

"Ball four!" the umpire called.

Kenji dropped his bat with a satisfied look, strolling to first base.

Yamashita Kazuki was up next, a solid hitter, and Kengo's mind quickly snapped back to the task at hand. He had to get through Yamashita with Kenji now on base.

Take squatted down, signaling for a knuckleball. But Kengo ignored the sign, shaking his head. No. Fastball. He wound up and fired a pitch right down the middle.

"Strike!" the umpire called as the ball zipped past Yamashita, who let out a small grunt of frustration.

Kengo wasted no time, quickly delivering another fastball that caught the edge of the plate. "Strike two!" Kenji, standing at first, saw his chance. With Kengo's focus on the batter, Kenji took off, sprinting toward second base.

As Take caught the pitch and he immediately fired to second, but Kenji's jump was too good. He slid into the base just as the throw arrived.

"Safe!" the umpire called, and the Seimei fans roared in approval.

Take threw the ball back to Kengo, who gave him a hard look. Take tried to brush it off. "Don't worry about him. He won't steal again." But Kengo was irritated.

As if reading Kengo's mind, Kenji edged further off second, eyes locked on the pitcher. Kengo wound up again, but Kenji's body tensed, ready to sprint. The pitch was wide, a ball, and Take fired to third as Kenji broke into a sprint.

The throw was close, but Kenji's slide beat the tag by inches.

"Safe!" the umpire hesitated, then confirmed.

"Shit!" Take muttered under his breath. This guy's too fast.

Kenji dusted himself off, standing confidently at third, his eyes gleaming with determination. Now it's up to you, Yama. Bring me home.

Yamashita stepped back into the box, his mind racing. I have to hit something. Anything to bring Kenji home. He looked over at Coach Nakamura in the dugout, who gave a subtle signal: Bunt.

Yamashita's heart skipped a beat. A bunt? Right now? But there was no hesitation in his execution. He adjusted his stance, tightening his grip on the bat as he prepared for the next pitch. Kengo wound up, unaware of the change in Yamashita's approach.

As the ball left Kengo's hand, Yamashita shifted his bat into a bunt position. Kengo's heart sank the moment he saw the bat angle. A bunt!?

The ball had little movement this time, heading straight for the bat. Yamashita dropped it down perfectly along the first base line. Kengo rushed forward, fielding the ball as quickly as he could, but his only option was to throw to first.

The throw to first was in time, and the umpire called the second out of the inning. But it didn't matter. Kenji had broken for home the instant the ball was down, flying down the line like a blur. He slid into the plate, his hand brushing the white chalk before Take could receive the throw.

"Safe!" the umpire shouted.

Kenji's hand slapped the plate, and the Seimei crowd erupted into wild cheers. Take cursed again under his breath as he pulled off his mask, glaring at Kenji. Too fast… too damn fast.

The score was now, 3-1 and the momentum had shifted in Seimei's favor. The energy in their dugout was electric as they celebrated Kenji's speed and Yamashita's perfect bunt.

Kengo, standing on the mound, clenched his fists. He glanced toward the Shukugawa dugout where Coach Taira gave him a reassuring nod. Kengo shook off his frustration.

But inside, Kengo's heart was pounding. He knew he couldn't let his emotions get the best of him. This game had just started, and now the real test of his resolve was about to begin. I'll finish this.

As Kengo prepared for the next batter, he exhaled slowly, pushing away the weight of the moment. The stakes had risen, and both teams felt it. Every pitch, every swing, every movement carried the weight of their season on its shoulders.

Nakashima Kaito stepped into the batter's box, his face steely with resolve. The pressure was palpable, but he welcomed it. He glanced over at Kengo on the mound. Kengo's knuckleballs had been unpredictable, but Nakashima was determined to make contact. He couldn't let this opportunity slip by, especially with Kenji having tied the game. The stakes were too high.

Shinjiro, standing in the on-deck circle, watched Nakashima closely, gripping his bat tightly. Come on, senpai… just get on base, Shinjiro pleaded silently. His heart pounded, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, nervous anticipation making his fingers itch to grip the bat and take his turn. He knew if Nakashima could just get on base, there would be a chance for Seimei to finish this game.

Kengo wound up, eyes laser-focused on Nakashima. The first pitch was a fastball, low and away, right on the corner of the plate. Nakashima reacted immediately, swinging hard, but the ball shot off the bat with a sharp ping, soaring toward the back netting.

"Foul!" the umpire shouted as Nakashima reset himself, shaking out his arms. He was dialed in, but so was Kengo.

The Shukugawa fans, sensing the tension, began beating their drums louder, their voices chanting in unison as Kengo wiped the sweat from his brow. Take, crouched behind the plate, signaled for another fastball. Nakashima had fouled off the first pitch, but Kengo had no intention of giving him anything easy to hit.

The second pitch came in hot, another fastball, but this time higher. Nakashima fouled it off again, sending the ball skimming over the third-base dugout. It clattered into the stands as the fans scrambled to grab it.

"Foul!" the umpire declared, and Nakashima clenched his teeth. I've got to get it right this time.

Shinjiro watched from the on-deck circle, his heart in his throat.

Kengo wound up for the third pitch, his eyes fixed on the strike zone. Take signaled for a knuckleball this time, hoping to catch Nakashima off guard with a slower, more unpredictable pitch. Kengo nodded, his grip tightening around the ball.

The pitch came in slower, wobbling and dipping as it approached the plate. Nakashima's eyes widened as he realized the ball was going to break hard, but he couldn't hold back. He swung, making solid contact this time, sending the ball toward the left side of the infield. For a brief moment, it looked like a clean hit, but Shukugawa's shortstop, Hasegawa Taiga, reacted in a flash.

Hasegawa dove, throwing his body into the air with the kind of acrobatic grace that made the crowd gasp. His glove extended just in time, the ball smacking into the webbing with a dull thud. As he landed, Hasegawa's body twisted, and without missing a beat, he rose to his feet, spinning to make the throw to first base.

Shinjiro's heart dropped as he watched Hasegawa's quick recovery. No way…

Hasegawa's throw to first was a bullet, cutting through the air like a knife. Nakashima, sprinting full speed, stretched his legs toward the bag, but the ball reached first base a split second before his foot.

"Three outs! Change!" the umpire called, his voice booming through the stadium.

The Shukugawa fans exploded in cheers, their drums and chants reaching a fever pitch as Hasegawa's teammates rushed toward him, slapping him on the back. "That's how it's done!" someone shouted, their voices lost in the roar of the crowd.

Nakashima skidded to a halt, his hands on his knees as he bent over in frustration. He had come so close, but Hasegawa's brilliance had snatched the moment away. He walked slowly back to the dugout, shaking his head.