At the bottom of the third inning, Inashiro came up to bat.
Their lower lineup stood no chance against the combined effort of Kanzaki Ryō and Miyuki. The at-bats were one-sided, almost suffocating.
Kanzaki even played along with their expectations—refusing to throw inside, sticking strictly to outside pitches. Four-seam fastballs, forkballs, cutter-sliders, circle changeups… he rotated through them with precision.
Nine pitches.
Only one batter managed to make contact—and he was immediately caught out.
A clean, efficient inning.
From the stands, Seido's supporters erupted into boos toward Inashiro's side, drawing annoyed reactions from their rivals.
Just like that, the game moved into the fourth inning.
Seido's second batter, Kominato Ryōsuke, stepped into the box.
With a clear objective—to drain Narumiya Mei's stamina—he pushed his batting technique to the limit.
One pitch.
Two.
Three…
Eight pitches.
By the end of it, Narumiya's expression had completely darkened. Standing on the mound, he looked like he was barely holding back from swearing.
Annoying… too damn annoying!
Every time Kominato made contact, it wasn't to get a hit—but to deliberately foul the ball off.
It was psychological warfare.
Kominato noticed the change in Narumiya's expression and smiled faintly.
If he could get a clean hit, of course he would take it. But Narumiya's pitches were simply too sharp—too fast, too precise, too tricky.
So he adapted.
If I can't hit you… I'll wear you down instead.
However—
On the eighth pitch, he finally failed to foul it off.
Crack!
The ball rolled weakly toward first base, stopping right in front of the fielder.
Out.
Even after forcing eight pitches, Kominato clicked his tongue slightly.
"…Would've been nice if I got on base."
Back in the dugout—
"Heh. Ryōsuke-senpai, sometimes you're like a demon," Kanzaki said.
Kominato simply smiled.
"Nii-san… you'll get tired like that," Kominato Haruichi said softly as he walked up behind him.
That level of precision—even without a hit—required immense concentration. Against a pitcher like Narumiya Mei, it was mentally exhausting.
"Heh. Since when do you worry about me?" Ryōsuke replied, rubbing his dry eyes.
"Tsundere."
A voice cut in at the worst possible moment.
The dugout fell silent—
Then several players covered their mouths, trying not to laugh.
They stole glances at Kominato…
—and for once, a faint blush appeared beneath his ever-present smile.
He was embarrassed.
On the field, Isashiki Jun stepped up like a man possessed.
After two consecutive foul balls—
Bang!
He somehow managed to connect with a changeup.
But his timing was too early.
The swing lacked power, sending the ball high into the air—
A routine pop-up.
Caught cleanly by Inashiro's second baseman.
Out.
"Damn that changeup…!"
Isashiki grumbled as he walked off the field.
That kind of pitch completely messed with his style.
On the mound, Narumiya smirked as he watched him go.
Too straightforward.
A hitter like that wasn't hard to deal with.
And yet…
That last swing lingered in his mind.
Despite his form collapsing mid-swing, Isashiki had still forced contact through sheer instinct. It was reckless—almost ridiculous.
But dangerous.
Two outs.
Narumiya and Harada didn't relax for a second.
The next batter was Yūki Tetsuya.
Not just because of his own ability—but because Kanzaki Ryō stood right behind him.
If Yūki reached base, the pressure would double instantly.
To suppress Seido completely—
He must not be allowed on base.
Behind the plate, Harada studied Yūki carefully.
…Nothing.
No tells. No openings.
Both of them were captains. Both cleanup hitters.
Harada considered himself among the nation's best but ever since last summer, Yūki had clearly leveled up again.
At this point, he could easily go pro.
Even though they'd retired him earlier, that meant nothing now.
Especially after he'd already seen Narumiya's pitches.
After a brief pause, Harada gave the signal.
Outside cutter.
Narumiya nodded.
Two outs already.
If he could just get this one—
The next inning would start with Kanzaki.
Fine… I'll just walk him then.
Decision made, Narumiya focused.
Whoosh—
The cutter sliced sharply toward the outside corner.
Yūki's eyes flickered.
Then—
His bat exploded forward like a striking beast.
Bang!!
Perfect contact.
The ball shot off the bat like a bullet, tearing through the infield on a line toward center.
Inashiro reacted instantly—their positioning was solid, their movements sharp.
Carlos fielded it cleanly.
By the time the throw reached second—
Yūki was already standing safely on first.
"Captain!!"
"Tetsu!"
"As expected of Yūki!!"
Cheers erupted.
Yūki simply smiled and gave a small wave.
Behind the plate, Harada frowned.
First pitch.
Outside corner.
And he still swung decisively?
Was he… targeting the cutter?
Questions piled up but there was no time.
Now they had to face Kanzaki with a runner on base.
Walking him was no longer an option.
We can't deal with that monster in scoring position…
On the mound, Narumiya clicked his tongue in irritation.
Yūki was strong—he admitted that.
But that hit… there had to be some luck involved.
Otherwise, how could he connect so perfectly?
Is luck on Seido's side today?
He shook his head.
No distractions.
Next—
That damned "chestnut-haired monster."
Narumiya turned toward the batter's box—
…and immediately felt his temper spike.
"What the hell are you smiling at?!"
Kanzaki Ryō stood there, bat resting on his shoulder, squinting as he smiled—
—perfectly imitating Kominato Ryōsuke.
"…Can you not do that?" Harada said flatly. "It's kind of disgusting."
Kanzaki snorted.
"I'm in a good mood. Got a problem with that?"
Harada sighed.
This guy was clearly provoking Narumiya on purpose.
And Narumiya—
was absolutely falling for it.
Seriously…
Both of them are so damn childish.