Back in the dugout, everyone slumped onto the bench.
After a week of brutal training, even simple movents felt heavy.
Listening to the seniors complain about their condition, Ushijima thought for a mont before speaking.
"…Alright."
"I'll hold them down for four innings."
"From the fifth inning on, I'm counting on you guys."
Everyone looked up.
"Four innings?" Kuramochi blinked.
Ushijima nodded calmly.
"At most four."
"After four innings, Kiryu's lineup will start adjusting to my pitches. Once they get used to , they'll probably start carrying the ball."
He glanced toward Kiryu's dugout.
"With their back strength… if they make clean contact, it's over."
"So when that happens, we defend together."
The dugout burst into laughter.
"You brat, you sound way too confident," Kominato said with a smile.
"You think you can shut down the strongest lineup in the country for four innings by yourself?" Kuramochi added, elbowing his chest.
Masuko grunted.
"Don't forget we're exhausted. After this training camp, everyone's body feels like lead."
Isashiki clicked his tongue.
"Normally, yeah, I'd believe you could crush them."
"But right now? With this condition?"
He shook his head.
"Four innings against Kiryu? That's impossible."
Despite the harsh words, everyone knew—
Isashiki actually trusted Ushijima a lot.
Right behind Miyuki and Yuki.
Ushijima just smiled.
"Didn't the coach say we can try anything today?"
"If that's the case…"
"Why can't I hold them down for four innings?"
"…Or maybe I should just use my trump card."
The dugout went quiet.
A chill ran down everyone's spine.
Trump card?
Miyuki's eyes sharpened instantly.
"…Don't tell you—"
All eyes turned to Ushijima.
He looked toward Kiryu's field… then nodded casually.
"Yeah."
"Who doesn't have a few hidden skills?"
"…!"
Everyone froze.
Four-seam. Two-seam. Cutter.
All around 140–145 km/h.
All with great control.
That alone already gave batters nightmares.
And now—
He still had sothing else?
"…Sinker?" Kawakami guessed.
After all, Ushijima had asked him about it over a month ago.
Miyuki leaned forward.
"Can you use it?"
Ushijima scratched his head awkwardly.
"…Sa problem as always."
"If I throw it fast, the control sucks."
"If I focus on control, the speed drops."
"I just learned it. Zero real-ga experience."
He shrugged.
"And today we're facing Kiryu — the strongest offense in the country."
"If I'm going to test it…"
"This is the best practice target."
Everyone: "…Practice target?"
He continued calmly,
"But it also ans we might get crushed."
"So I'll handle the first four innings."
"After that, I'll need the defense to back up."
"If we want to stop them… we do it together."
Silence.
Then—
Coach Kataoka's eyes lit up.
Another pitch.
And a fastball-type, too.
That ant Ushijima's arsenal just got even deadlier.
Yuki stood up.
"Alright."
"Then it's decided."
"You and Miyuki lock them down early."
"We'll score."
"After that, we defend together."
Instantly, the whole team's morale rose.
Even Sawamura and Furuya stared at Ushijima with envy.
So this was the presence of an ace…
Tanba and Kawakami exchanged looks too.
Suppress Kiryu for four innings with just a pitcher-catcher duo?
Only Ushijima would dare say sothing like that.
Defense switched to offense.
Now it was Seido's turn to bat.
Leadoff — Kuramochi.
He stepped into the box and squinted at Kiryu's ace on the mound.
"…Why does this guy look so scary?"
"Compared to him, our pitcher feels way nicer."
"…Okay, maybe not Tanba-senpai."
No one knew what logic he was using.
On the mound stood Kiryu's ace and cleanup hitter—
Taichi Hiromi.
His expression was dark.
Their lineup — the strongest in the nation —
had just been shut down by a freshman.
Three up.
Three down.
Humiliating.
So when Kuramochi stepped in—
Taichi didn't hold back.
First pitch.
Straight fastball.
Nothing fancy.
Right down the middle.
Kuramochi's eyes lit up.
"Haha! A gift?! I'll take it!"
He swung hard.
CLANG!
The mont the bat connected—
His face changed.
"…Heavy?!"
The ball felt like iron.
His tired body couldn't drive it.
Instead—
A weak grounder rolled toward third.
"Damn it!"
Kuramochi still sprinted at full speed.
The third baseman charged, scooped, and fired.
THWACK!
"Out!"
The umpire's arm ca down.
Even so—
Kiryu's infielders looked shaken.
"…That was close."
"If not for the training fatigue, he might've beaten that out…"
Kuramochi jogged back, clicking his tongue.
"Ugh… my legs feel like I'm wearing lead weights."
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