Just as Miyuki Kazuya watched in anticipation, expecting the baseball to suddenly slow down and drop—
Reality crushed that hope.
"Thump!!!"
The ball showed no sign of decelerating. Instead, it slamd heavily into Akaishi Osamu's glove with a dull, explosive sound.
Only after it had already landed did Miyuki's bat finally complete its swing.
"Strike! Batter out!!!"
A suffocating despair engulfed Seido High School's bench.
One more out… and their sumr would be over.
How could they not despair?
Still unwilling to give up, Coach Kataoka made his final gamble—one he wasn't even sure was truly a trump card.
Kominato Haruichi stepped up as a pinch hitter, replacing the already exhausted Furuya Satoru. Since the start of the Sumr Tournant, Haruichi had maintained a perfect batting record.
But even that… proved aningless.
Kitamura Kou made it clear with his pitching—
No matter how hard they struggled, the outco would not change.
Two blazing fastballs at 145 km/h.
Two swings.
Two misses.
Seido High School stood at the edge of collapse, with nowhere left to retreat.
Though he had only swung twice, the crushing pressure radiating from the pitcher's mound made Haruichi's heart tighten. A chill surged from his feet to his head, cold sweat soaking his back.
"...Are these the kind of monsters my brother has been facing?"
Yet even so—
His dream of playing baseball with his older brother, Ryosuke Kominato, at Koshien Stadium kept him standing.
It gave him the courage to face this invisible pressure head-on.
"You still haven't given up?"
Kitamura Kou revealed a faint, aningful smile.
"Fine. As a sign of respect… I'll use this pitch to perfectly end my first appearance."
"…Though I hope Coach doesn't kill after the ga."
With that thought, he picked up the rosin bag, lightly pinching it between his fingers to keep them dry—ensuring he wouldn't lose control of such a decisive pitch.
He tossed it aside.
Then—
As if background music had begun to play in a world where none existed, he raised both arms high. His expression turned deadly serious.
Stepping forward, he whipped his arm forward—
And hurled the white ball toward Akaishi's glove, set firmly at the center of the plate.
"BOOM!!!"
This was the fastest pitch Kitamura Kou had thrown all day.
The ball tore through the air with a terrifying howl, like a raging storm.
Having learned from his previous swings, Haruichi knew—
With his current ability, a normal swing wouldn't even co close.
If he wanted to hit it…
He had to swing early.
Even as the pressure made it hard to breathe, Haruichi forced his body to move. Before the ball had even fully left Kou's fingertips, he swung with everything he had—
"Clang!!!"
Whether it was his determination…
Or the countless prayers from the stands…
The widest part of the bat t the ball perfectly.
Right at its core.
"Hit!!"
Joy surged through Haruichi.
Carrying the expectations of the entire team and Coach Kataoka's trust, he had endured that overwhelming pressure—
And finally responded.
But that joy lasted only an instant.
Reality dragged him back down.
"Bang!!!"
"Thump!!!"
With a deafening explosion, the bat shattered upon impact.
The unstoppable pitch tore straight through it, reducing it to fragnts—
Before slamming into Akaishi Osamu's glove once more.
Silence.
The entire stadium froze.
Players, coaches, spectators—
All stared in stunned disbelief.
The once roaring field beca so quiet… you could hear a pin drop.
Even witnessing it with their own eyes, they could hardly believe it.
A first-year high school student—
Throwing a pitch powerful enough to shatter a bat?
It was absurd.
Unreal.
"S-Strike… Strikeout! Batter out! Ga over!!!"
Even the seasoned umpire hesitated for a mont before snapping back to reality and announcing the result.
Only then did the pressure on Haruichi's body finally disappear.
He gasped for air, his uniform drenched in cold sweat.
…We lost?
Seido's players stared blankly at the towering scoreboard.
8 – 5.
That rciless number told them the cruel truth.
Their sumr… was over.
Their dream of returning to Koshien after five long years—
Shattered.
"Tick… tap… tick… tap…"
"Huh…?"
Furuya Satoru stared at his trembling hands, now empty after being replaced.
"Why… is my vision blurry?"
Droplets fell onto his hands.
"…Are these… tears?"
"Why does my chest hurt so much…?"
"So this… is what losing feels like…?"
Guilt swallowed him whole.
If only he hadn't collapsed so early in the ga…
If only he hadn't disrupted the team's plans…
If only he had been stronger—
Would the outco have been different?
For the first ti, Furuya felt a pain deeper than anything he had ever experienced.
Even deeper than the loneliness and rejection he faced in middle school.
Not far away, Sawamura Eijun was no better.
He had lost countless gas before—he should have been used to it.
And yet—
This defeat hurt far more.
Despite the seniors' strength…
Despite their relentless training…
They still lost.
And he—
Had contributed nothing.
Worse, he had only caused trouble.
That crushing sense of failure dragged him into a spiral of self-bla and doubt.
The rest of Seido High School was no different.
Tears welled up in their eyes as the bitterness of defeat sank in.
As for the third-years—
They could no longer hold back.
All their effort over the past two and a half years…
All their struggles to reach this level…
All their dreams of shining at Koshien—
Gone.
They had fallen…
In the quarterfinals.
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