One out. Runners on first and third.
Narumiya faced Yuuki.
He was aware of the two runners. He could not afford to ignore them entirely, but he could not afford to give them too much attention either. Yuuki was standing in the box right now, and Yuuki was the problem that needed solving first.
The fans in the stands, along with most of the players from both teams, had locked their attention onto the duel between the pitcher and the batter. It was the natural place to look.
Which was exactly why nobody noticed the figure moving quietly at the edges of the play.
Small movents. Deliberate, careful, unhurried. Drifting farther and farther from first base without drawing a single eye.
Then, the mont Narumiya turned his head to check the runner at third, the figure broke.
Zhang Han ran directly for second base. No hesitation, no half-asure. A straight steal.
The stands reacted with visible confusion.
A direct steal? From first, with a runner already on third?
The rules permitted it. But it almost never happened, because the success rate was so low as to be nearly worthless. Even with a running start already built, one shout from a fielder was usually all it took for the pitcher to throw and retire the runner comfortably.
"First base!"
Soone called it out imdiately.
Narumiya snapped his head back around. His eyes went wide.
Zhang Han was out there, offering himself up. Running openly toward second base, making himself impossible to ignore.
If Narumiya did not throw, it would be almost unreasonable. He fired to first base without hesitation, clean and decisive.
The mont the ball left his hand, Kuramochi moved.
He ca off third base and pointed himself straight at ho plate.
The picture beca clear all at once. Zhang Han had never been trying to steal second. He had been the bait. The entire sequence had been designed to pull the throw to first and open the door at ho.
At first base, Yamaoka Riku caught the ball and felt a flare of anger. These two again. They had just been turned away at third base, and now they were running the sa concept from a different angle. Did they think Inashiro had not prepared for exactly this?
He caught the ball, turned, and threw directly to ho without bothering with Zhang Han.
Harada caught it almost without shifting his feet. He planted himself, a wall of muscle blocking the plate.
But Kuramochi was already close.
Narumiya's pickoff and throw to first had taken just over a second. Yamaoka's catch and relay to ho had added a touch more. Combined, the entire sequence from throw to catch to second throw had consud sowhere around 2.8 seconds — reaction ti and ball flight both included. In professional baseball, that kind of relay ti was considered close to the limit of what was achievable. Even a professional stolen base specialist would need roughly three seconds to cover the ground from third to ho.
Kuramochi was not a professional. He did not have their seasoned experience or their top-end sprint speed.
But when Harada turned to make the tag, Kuramochi was only five or six ters away.
A wave of shock moved through Harada.
Inashiro had already rated Kuramochi highly before this ga, placing him roughly on par with Carlos. But standing here now, watching him close that distance, Harada revised the assessnt on the spot. In a pure stolen base contest, Carlos might not actually have the edge. Kuramochi's first step was simply in a different category. The acceleration it produced compressed the entire ti window of any play.
Harada steadied himself. He was still in ti. He stood firm and braced, a solid mass between Kuramochi and the plate.
He was not going to let this one through.
Kuramochi showed no sign of slowing. He ca straight at the inside path.
"Dream on."
Harada pulled his glove back to cut off the angle.
Then Kuramochi changed direction.
His body pivoted at full speed, swinging to the outside in a movent that was almost impossibly smooth. The chanics of it were cleaner than what Carlos had shown earlier, and that had already been remarkable. Harada felt the shock layer on top of itself.
What Harada could not have known was the origin of those chanics. Kuramochi had not learned them on a basketball court. He had learned them on the streets. He had once been a notorious delinquent, soone who had fought his way through situations that required taking on seven or eight opponents alone. Sakuragi Hanamichi's physique, he did not have. What he did have was the ability to change direction at high speed while staying in complete control of his body. That was what had kept him standing when the numbers were against him. Brought onto a baseball diamond, those sa instincts beca sothing that even professional players would struggle to replicate.
Harada turned with him, driving his glove down toward Kuramochi's body.
Kuramochi slipped lower, angling himself nearly sideways, sliding along the ground just outside Harada's reach. Harada dropped his glove to compensate, but his legs had not finished turning. The shift in angle stole his center of gravity.
"Thud!"
Harada went down. The ball rolled free.
Kuramochi's hand touched ho plate without any rush at all.
The ho plate umpire had kept both eyes locked on the play from the mont Kuramochi broke from third. After the previous close call with Carlos, he was not about to be caught blinking. There was no conflict in his decision this ti. The result had been clear.
"Safe!"
The run scored. With everyone's attention pulled toward the plate, Zhang Han had quietly advanced to second base without a throw.
Zhang Han himself stood at second base wearing an expression of genuine bafflent.
He had gone into that play fully prepared to be retired. He had offered himself as the sacrifice. And now here he was, standing safely on second, his role as decoy entirely unnecessary.
Why won't you let be out?
He had no idea what to do with that feeling.
It did not affect the result. Seido had scored. The total score moved to 3-2.
One run. That was all that separated the two teams now.
And Yuuki had not yet swung the bat once.
One out. Runner on second base.
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