Takumi's take on Natsume's pitching was lukewarm at best.
His teammates gawked at him like he'd just dissed their moms.
Even Kataoka, Mr. Stone-Face himself, cracked a rare smile. "Nice. That's what I wanna hear. Go get 'em!" he exclaimed, with a rare spark of excitement.
That was all Takumi needed. He turned back, eyes gleaming. "Coach, can I pitch?" he asked, barely able to contain himself.
He was itching to get on the mound, knowing that playing outfield wouldn't give him the experience he craved.
"No!" Kataoka's answer was swift and final.
Takumi just shrugged it off, heading to the outfield. As the Seidō players took their positions, they radiated this unmistakable vibe of top-tier athleticism. It was like breathing to them.
It's a thing with athletes – sometimes they don't even need to show what they've got. Just standing there, they give off this vibe.
Hachiya Oji sent a pretty ordinary-looking kid to the plate as their leadoff hitter.
Back in the dugout, his teammates were hyping him up, lighting a fire under him. Their Ace had already set the bar, and they couldn't afford to slack. They needed to show they were all in.
One run was all they needed.
They gritted their teeth, eyes burning with this fierce resolve. They were gonna get it, no matter what.
As the leadoff batter stepped into the box, ready to prove himself, he suddenly felt a shiver crawl down his spine.
He glanced around and saw the Seidō players, their eyes locked on him like a pack of wolves sizing up their prey.
Yoshida, especially, was on the mound, grinning like a predator and chuckling to himself.
He was oozing confidence, sure. But from the batter's box, it probably looked more like a threat.
"Are these guys always this intense?" he muttered, his throat suddenly tight.
Right then, Yoshida fired the pitch.
Swish!
The pitch was on him before he could even blink.
So fast!
His legs felt like jelly. This was nothing like what they'd prepared for.
From the batter's box, Seidō's supposedly "under fire Ace" was dealing with scary precision.
How could someone throw that hard and still nail the outside corner?
The batter didn't stand a chance
Thwack!
"Strike!"
Thwack!
"Strike!!"
Thwack!
"Strike!!!"
"He's out!"
It was all over in a heartbeat, no hesitation.
Yoshida made quick work of Hachiya Oji's leadoff batter.
The Seidō dugout went wild, players leaping up, yelling their heads off.
The stands roared with applause, the sound reverberating around the stadium.
"Oh, I'm on fire today!" Yoshida yelled, flashing a wide, confident grin, teeth bared.
The cheers fueled him. He wound up and threw the next pitch with even more heat.
The second Hachiya Oji batter was about to face something even scarier than what his teammate had just endured.
The ball was hurtling straight for him, and he instinctively flinched, shielding his face.
But then, with a surprising curve, it dropped right into the strike zone.
Thwack!
"Strike!"
Behind the plate, Takigawa gave a subtle nod of respect after snagging the pitch.
Yoshida-senpai's pitching was truly something else.
If he could keep this up, he'd be unstoppable.
It was just a shame...
He flashed Yoshida a quick, reassuring grin.
"One more strike!" he called out, keeping the energy up.
Their Ace was...well, a handful, to put it nicely.
Give him the right kind of hype, and he'd play like a superstar.
But even this guy had a couple of weak spots.
First, his A-game was always a short burst. Three, maybe four innings, then he'd start to lose steam.
And second, he was annoyingly all over the place.
It wasn't always obvious when he was losing it, but once he did, his pitches would go haywire. You just never knew what was coming.
But Takigawa didn't have time to dwell on that. He just needed to rattle these batters.
Swish!
Still rattled from the last pitch, the second batter saw the ball coming at him again.
His first instinct was to bail.
But this time, the pitch was right down the middle.
Thwack!
"Strike!!"
A pitch right down the middle, and he completely blew it?
The batter wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
He should be benched for that. Their Ace is makin' all these promises, and he just blew the golden ticket.
Before he can even start feelin' sorry for himself, Yoshida was already firing the last pitch.
Swish!
The batter takes a deep breath, clenches his jaw, and swings as hard as he can.
Ping!
The ball dribbled weakly off the bat, barely making it past the pitcher's mound.
He'd totally shanked it.
The Seidō players weren't about to cut him any slack. The third baseman swooped in, scooped up the ball, and fired it to first.
Thwack!
"Out!"
Two outs, nobody on base.
Hachiya Oji's third batter trudged to the plate, the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Yoshida, having mowed down the first two batters with terrifying ease, had morphed into a straight-up menace on the mound.
His pitches were lightning-fast and danced like crazy.
Even when the batter managed to get a decent piece of it...
Ping!
The ball limped off the bat, barely crawling ten meters before bouncing harmlessly on the infield dirt.
Seidō's first baseman charged in, snagged the ball, and stepped on first to end the inning.
"Out!!"
Three outs, inning over.
The first frame wrapped up with the score still stuck at zero.
The Seidō fans couldn't hide their disappointment.
They'd heard the buzz, read the articles. Weren't these guys supposed to be a juggernaut this year?
They'd crushed Akikawa, and nobody takes those guys lightly.
So why couldn't they find the same rhythm against Hachiya Oji?
While the crowd's scratching their heads, the game moves to the top of the second, with Seidō coming up to bat.
And who's walking up to the plate?
It's their cleanup hitter, Azuma Kiyokuni!