After Kashima secured the final out, he collapsed directly on the pitcher's mound.
In an instant, the entire stadium descended into chaos.
dical personnel rushed onto the field, stretchers and ice packs in hand, and carefully lifted Kashima up. His uniform was soaked through with sweat, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to breathe.
"Don't say anything else," Director Tahara said decisively. "Send him to the hospital imdiately."
"Director, the ga isn't over yet…"The assistant coach hesitated, clearly torn.
Director Tahara turned to him sharply."What matters more right now, a person, or a ga?"
"Of course a person is more important!" the assistant coach replied imdiately. "But if we go to the hospital right now, what can we really do? If Kashima were still conscious, he definitely wouldn't want to leave the field."
The first-aid doctor, who had already finished a preliminary check, also spoke up, "His pulse is stable. Breathing is a little rapid, but his heartbeat is normal. It looks like excessive physical exertion combined with mild heatstroke. He doesn't necessarily need to be sent to the hospital right away."
"Then what do you recomnd?" Director Tahara asked.
"Move him to a cool place first and let him rest. He should wake up soon."
Although Kashima was a bit chubby, he was still a trained athlete with solid physical conditioning. As expected, less than two minutes after being carried off the field, his eyelids fluttered and he regained consciousness.
Only then did the first responders and the Ichidai San players finally let out a huge sigh of relief.
When the fans in the stands heard the announcent, thunderous applause erupted throughout the stadium. It was applause reserved for a captain who had poured everything he had onto the mound.
Total score: 4–3.
Today's Seido High School Baseball Team was terrifyingly strong, especially their batting lineup, which felt almost inhuman. Under such pressure, Kashima had still managed to hold them to just three runs.
Just thinking about it felt unbelievable.
He truly deserved every bit of praise he was receiving.
"Kashima was incredible, 138 pitches," soone in the stands said in awe. "But he's already collapsed once. He probably can't pitch anymore, right? If that's the case, Seido still has the best chance to go all the way today."
"That's hard to say," another spectator replied. "Seido does have the advantage on paper, but there are only two innings left. Ichidai San's second-year pitcher is supposed to be quite good. In such a short ti, Seido might not be able to score again."
No matter how one looked at it, Kashima had done his part. By pushing through the seventh inning, he had greatly reduced Seido's remaining opportunities.
At the very least, the situation was no longer as optimistic as many had imagined.
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"He's okay!"
Inside the Seido High School Baseball Team's dugout, everyone had been holding their breath. When Kashima collapsed, their hearts jumped as well.
Although there was a fleeting, almost guilty sense of relief deep down, concern quickly overwheld it.
Especially Hidezawa.
If his teammates hadn't grabbed him, he might have rushed straight toward the opposing dugout.
"Don't cause more trouble!" soone pulled him back. "If you want to check on him, wait until after the ga. Right now—"
Right now, Hidezawa charging over would only invite misunderstanding and chaos.
Once he confird that Kashima was fine, Hidezawa finally let out a long breath. The tension in his body visibly eased, and his shoulders slumped.
This scene made Zhang Han feel strangely conflicted.
Hidezawa had always targeted Kashima, constantly talking about beating him head-on and proving himself. Zhang Han had assud their relationship was nothing more than surface-level courtesy from their ti as teammates.
But now, it was clear that wasn't true. They weren't just rivals.
They were friends, important ones.
"…I'm starting to believe in friendship," Zhang Han muttered quietly.
Soon, the ga resud.
Fearing that the interruption might affect his players' ntality, Coach Kataoka gathered everyone together.
"Player Kashima's fighting spirit is worthy of respect," he said seriously. "As his opponents, the best response we can give is to go all out until the very end."
Those words resonated deeply with the team.
Kashima's determination and perseverance were a true example of what high school baseball was about. The Seido players admired him—not as an enemy, but as a competitor who gave everything he had.
Hearing Coach Kataoka speak like this, the players subconsciously raised their own expectations.
If it were us… we could do the sa.
Their fighting spirit surged.
Watching from the side, Zhang Han was genuinely amazed. He had always known that Coach Kataoka was skilled at motivating players, but this was on another level entirely.
If Kashima knew that his collapse had been used to rally the Seido players, Zhang Han suspected he would be furious.
After all, when Kashima was on the mound, he wasn't thinking about setting an example. He was simply pitching on pure obsession and willpower.
Top of the eighth inning—Ichidai San's offense.
Fueled by Kashima's sacrifice, Ichidai San's morale skyrocketed. Their players looked at Seido as if they were sworn enemies.
If this weren't an official match with strict rules, it felt like they might have charged forward and fought hand-to-hand.
A young man with a buzz cut took the mound, replacing Kashima. He was not only the new pitcher, but also Ichidai San's cleanup hitter.
Before he stepped onto the field, Kashima struggled to sit up and give instructions.
But he couldn't.
Only now did he realize just how exhausted his body was. Standing was impossible—he couldn't even muster the strength to crawl.
"Senpai, please say sothing!" the buzz-cut boy said anxiously, bending down and placing his ear close.
Kashima wanted to tell him everything—the tendencies of Seido's batters, their weaknesses, the traps Miyuki liked to set.
But his throat was dry, and even forming a single sentence felt like torture.
In the end, all those thoughts condensed into one hoarse line.
"The rest of the ga… I'm counting on you."
"Don't worry," the buzz-cut boy replied firmly, nodding hard.
Seeing this, the Ichidai San players were deeply moved. So even had tears in their eyes.
They silently swore that no matter what, they would score again. They would not let Kashima's efforts go to waste. They would carry him into the semifinals, defeat Inashiro, and march straight to Koshien.
"We're leading," Director Tahara said, hands on his hips. "And there are six outs left. As long as we take those six outs, victory is ours."
"Yes!" the players shouted in unison.
Under the dual inspiration of their ace and their director, the Ichidai San players burned with passion. At this mont, nothing else mattered.
They just wanted to score more runs—and ease the burden on their new pitcher.
Part of that resolve ca from Kashima's example. Without his rallying presence, they wouldn't have been so unified.
But more importantly, they believed in the situation in front of them.
Kashima had already collapsed.
They refused to believe that Hidezawa, whose pitch count wasn't much lower, still had enough stamina left.
An opening would appear. As long as they kept applying pressure and kept attacking, the Ichidai San players were convinced.
They would score again off Hidezawa.
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