Chapter 566: The True Battery
"Furuya."
Miyuki called softly to the calm-faced Furuya standing beside him.
"Yes, Miyuki-senpai."
"This inning—no holding back. Pitch the way you like best. Use your pitches to crush the senpai's momentum!!"
"Yes!!"
Top of the second inning.
Batting sixth for the third-years—Catcher, Takigawa.
My first showdown since entering Seidou… Chris-senpai. This time, I'll repay that loss from junior high.
Staring at Chris stepping into the batter's box with a faint smile, Miyuki's eyes flashed with sharp light.
The very person he admired was also the one he had to surpass. Back when Miyuki chose Seidou, it was with that resolve burning inside him.
A fighting spirit soared sky-high.
Even Chris, standing in the box, could feel it clearly—the challenge radiating from Miyuki.
This wasn't just a matchup.
It was a declaration: Who is Seidou's strongest catcher?
"!!!"
Behind the plate, Kataoka's booming voice rang out.
At the same time, Miyuki's eyes narrowed. His fingers twitched beneath his mitt, signaling.
On the mound, a flash of white light answered.
"Whoosh!"
A pitch streaked forward, sharp and fierce.
First pitch: vertical slider.
Backed by Furuya's power arm, the ball easily broke past 140 km/h, screaming toward home plate.
Chris's eyes snapped wide. His foot slid across, body twisting decisively as his left leg stepped out.
"Boom!"
Wind pressure howled with the pitch's arrival.
He swung.
"Clang!!!"
Metal met ball with a violent crack.
"Whish—Bang!"
The ball shot foul.
The vibration from that collision made even Chris's expression tighten slightly.
A full-power swing against a blazing fastball… not something just anyone could withstand.
"So, he was still holding back in the first inning…" Chris's eyes glimmered with sudden realization.
Miyuki's style was clear—hide weaknesses, maximize strengths, drag out every ounce of potential from his pitcher. That was the mark of his catching.
"Then show me, Miyuki… just how much power you can draw out of Furuya."
Chris steadied himself in the box, gripping his bat tighter.
Second pitch—low and away fastball.
"Right!"
Furuya lifted his leg high, driving forward. His arm whipped violently.
"Whoosh!"
A glint of white light cut through the air—
"Swish!"
"Clang!!"
Pure power. A direct challenge.
The answer Miyuki gave the seniors was simple—overwhelm them with force.
"Whish—Bang!"
The ball rocketed foul again.
It's tough to suppress this kind of pitch… That sheer velocity. To hit it clean, I'd need to catch it just off the sweet spot, using a little give to kill the power.
If even the breaking ball has this weight… then the fastball must be even fiercer.
Trying to fight it head-on was reckless.
Chris had already adjusted after one pitch. He choked up on his bat and positioned himself deeper in the box, maximizing every small advantage to weaken Furuya's velocity.
But—
Miyuki wasn't about to let him get the pitch he wanted.
His brow arched, his eyes glinting with mischief and menace. Fingers flicked another sign.
"Whoosh!"
On the mound, Furuya reared back, arm snapping forward, a torrent of white light roaring straight for the plate.
That flawless arc cutting across the sky—
At the plate, Chris's eyes couldn't hide a flicker of surprise.
"Swish!"
"Pop!"
The bat sliced through empty air.
The ball, flashing past, missed contact perfectly at home plate—
—and landed cleanly in Miyuki's mitt with a sharp, ringing sound.
"Strike!!!"
So fast!
Even Chris showed a rare look of shock.
If you can't hit it… then it means nothing, right, Miyuki?
In that instant, Chris understood Miyuki's intent.
His plan to choke up, to defuse Furuya's velocity—Miyuki had seen straight through it. And this was his answer.
He wasn't going to give Chris the time to adjust.
Almost immediately, Miyuki called for the next pitch.
"Whoosh!"
"Clang!"
"Bang!"
"Foul!"
"Whoosh!"
"Pop!"
"Ball!"
The assault never stopped.
Raw power, pushed to the very extreme.
It might lack a little polish or finesse—but against sheer velocity, few batters could stand their ground.
Very clearly—this inning, Miyuki was dragging every ounce out of Furuya's arm.
And with his fastball now breaking 155 km/h, Chris's ability to respond was being pushed to its very limit.
"Whish!"
The alternating mix of heaters and breaking balls kept coming. At first Chris managed to hold his ground, but under the relentless assault, his timing began to slip.
"Whish!"
He lagged, just a fraction—enough.
"Pop!"
A ruthless heater right down the middle.
"Strike three, batter out!!!"
Miyuki and Furuya had struck down Chris himself.
Beautifully done, people thought.
A catcher's sharp guidance—and a pitcher who trusted completely and fired with all his strength.
That was a proper battery.
Every catcher has their own unique style.
Miyuki's greatest gift was always this—drawing out every last unique weapon his pitcher possessed.
It was his joy, and his duty.
After felling Chris, Miyuki and Furuya stuck with their pure power approach.
Though Sakai managed to shoot a clean single into right field, the eighth batter, Monden, and the ninth batter, Tanba, were smothered without trouble.
The top of the second ended scoreless.
The second-years had held the seniors down—and with a quickened rhythm, the game surged into the bottom half of the inning, Seidou's turn to bat!!!
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