Thirst (3)
Crack!
“Whoa!”
The batted ball came off with a low launch angle. But the exit velocity was high enough that we still hoped for a hit.
Tch.
“Out!”
Out at first! A spectacular play by the shortstop!
Sugano High’s fundamentals are rock solid, as expected!
The shortstop’s range was excellent, and the throw to first was right on the money.
“So close.”
“Nice try.”
Cleanup hitter Matsuda Masahiro came back to the bench.
“Fifth batter, right fielder, Sanada.”
Seisho’s fifth batter, Sanada, steps into the box.
Only a second-year, but he’s already drawing a lot of attention.
Sanada Atsushi settled into the batter’s box.
Pop!
“Strike!”
First pitch, 153 km/h!
Opposing pitcher Naruse Tomoyuki looked to be in excellent form. I didn’t remember anyone saying his command was that sharp, though.
“Come on, please!”
“No!”
A foul ball down the third-base line. We wanted it to carry just a little farther into the stands, but the third baseman stopped, and the ball settled cleanly into his glove.
Caught for the second out!
Naruse Tomoyuki is working right through Seisho’s cleanup!
“·····”
“Sixth batter, pitcher, Hongo.”
Bottom of the second, two outs, nobody on. I stepped into the box.
Fastball.
That was what I was hunting. Once you fall behind 0-2 against a guy like this, the at-bat gets ugly fast. I had to force the issue early.
And what I need is extra bases.
Stringing together singles against this pitcher looked nearly impossible. Better to get myself into scoring position in one swing—or just send it over the wall entirely.
“·····”
Of course, I still didn’t have an official home run to my name.
First pitcher-versus-pitcher matchup of the day! What kind of battle will we get?
Seisho’s Hongo—look at that frame. He’s built.
Here it comes.
True to form for a Japanese pitcher, he mixed a little variation into his kick. I shifted my weight forward.
Crack!
“·····”
“Foul!”
Foul ball!
Even the third baseman flinched on that one.
I turned on the inside fastball, but it hooked just foul of the third-base line.
The stuff isn’t unhittable.
The board lit up 153 km/h. Still, against velocity like that you have to account for timing as much as pure bat speed.
I reset and stepped back in.
Pop!
“Strike!”
Tch.
Outside slider. The umpire’s hand went up.
Pop!
“Strike three!”
Diving splitter—three-pitch strikeout!
Naruse lets out a roar!
Haha, the guy’s got fire, all right.
“·····”
Just wait.
I headed back, already thinking about the next time.
“Fourth batter, first baseman, Kokubo.”
“·····”
I waited for the hitter to settle into the box.
“There he is!”
“Kokubo!”
“Crush it!”
A left-handed hitter with a thick, muscular build that made you wonder if he was really still in high school.
Last summer’s monster hitter, Kokubo Yasusuke, steps in for his first at-bat of the day.
He was the one they’d flagged as the biggest threat. But I kept my eyes locked on Matsuda’s mitt.
Pop!
“Strike!”
Swing and a miss on the first pitch!
They went to the splitter right out of the gate.
Seisho’s battery is sharp in the chess match too!
The first pitch wasn’t for a strike—it was pure bait. His bat came out for the splitter anyway.
That made life a lot easier from the mound.
Pop!
“Strike!”
Whiff! 154 km/h! No balls, two strikes!
That velocity is filthy.
This time a high fastball up in the zone got the empty swing.
Good.
Cleanup hitter or not, highly touted or not—if I threw my best stuff, it didn’t matter.
I set the ball between my index and middle fingers and drove it straight down.
Crack!
“·····”
He turned on it!
The contact was vicious. My heart lurched.
That one…
The inside splitter hadn’t finished its drop. The second I turned to track the ball—
Over the right fielder’s head! Extra-base territory!
A rocket cleared Sanada’s leap in right and kept going.
“Third base!”
The runner was faster than expected. Our fielders did everything they could on the relay, but—
“Safe!”
We couldn’t cut him off at third.
Cleanup hitter Kokubo’s leadoff triple! Nobody out, runner on third for Sugano High!
What a shot!
“Hoo·····”
Not easy.
I’d told myself throwing my best would be enough. I hadn’t managed it. Now we were staring at a first-run crisis.
“Fifth batter, pitcher, Naruse.”
Seisho’s infield is drawn in! Stepping in is Sugano’s ace, Naruse Tomoyuki himself! Can the ace’s bat deliver the first run?
Infield in. A soft grounder and my teammates would have a play at the plate.
Of course…
A strikeout would remove every variable.
Pop!
“Strike!”
155 km/h!
Is facing Naruse lighting a fire under him, or does he just shine brightest in a jam?
The bat came out on the first pitch. He was swinging aggressively, looking to put the ball in play for a sacrifice.
Pop!
“Strike!”
I wasn’t about to cooperate.
“·····”
Matsuda’s big mitt. I drove my arm toward it.
Pop!
Low and away fastball. The bat came through empty.
“Strike three!”
Swing-and-miss strikeout! One out!
Another 155 km/h! Hongo freezes Naruse with pure heat!
Got him.
One down. If I could punch out the next guy too, the runner became irrelevant—just pitcher versus hitter, every out a win.
I fired hard at the next batter.
Crack!
“Huh?”
He got a piece of it!
The right-handed hitter went the other way on a high outside fastball.
It finds grass! Base hit!
I watched second baseman Minamino Shintaro dive. His weight was already committed forward; he just missed it, then slammed his glove into the dirt in frustration.
Last year’s West Tokyo champions, Sugano High, scratch across the first run against the second-year monster!
Experience still counts.
“Haa·····”
I let out a long breath after giving up the run. In my previous life I’d lived through moments like this every other day. Why did this one leave me so hollow?
“Hey!”
“Huh?”
Before I could fully reset, the infielders were already on the mound.
“The game’s long, Hongo.”
“Matsuda-senpai.”
“You didn’t actually think we were going to reach Koshien without giving up a single run, did you?”
“·····”
Captain Shirakawa Satoru was smiling even in the middle of the jam. I kept my mouth shut. Frustration, guilt, and the resolve to fight through it all tangled together inside me.
Hongo is ready to pitch again.
This is the biggest stage of the year—how nervous must he be?
Crack!
Mishit!
My splitter completely stole the hitter’s timing. His panicked swing produced a weak grounder.
“Out!”
“Out!”
Out at first as well! Double play! Seisho closes the bottom of the second. But Sugano High has the first run of the game and has lightened their ace’s load.
“·····”
It felt like the world had collapsed, but it hadn’t. I walked back to the bench trying to look as composed as I could.
Pop!
“Strike three!”
Right down the middle, 154 km/h! Hongo Yukihisa’s sixth strikeout of the day!
Sugano High goes down without a baserunner in the bottom of the third.
End of the third.
“Tch.”
A strikeout was a strikeout, but right down the middle? I grumbled my way back to the bench.
“·····”
Frustrating.
Weak thoughts kept bubbling up. If I’d only had a little more time, if I’d arrived at this stage a little further along…
But what good did that do me now?
“Third batter, third baseman, Kazuma.”
Top of the fourth, and Naruse is still a fortress! Can Seisho’s cleanup finally break through?
We were still down 0–1. Could we put a run on the board?
I clenched my fists. I wanted my turn at the plate so I could wipe that smug look off the pitcher’s face.
Pop!
“Strike three!”
A filthy splitter! Swing-and-miss strikeout!
The diving splitter. Kazuma Junpei swung through it and let out a frustrated yell.
“Fourth batter, catcher, Matsuda.”
The dominant ace Naruse! But stepping in is Seisho’s cleanup!
Matsuda—and Hongo—have already shown they can put some serious wood on the ball.
“·····”
I watched the duel in silence.
Pop!
“Strike!”
Outside corner! 154 km/h!
He’s turning up the heat against Matsuda.
A fastball painted on the outer edge. Even I would have had trouble with that one.
By the way, last summer’s West Tokyo final…
Yes.
I’ll finish the thought after this pitch.
The pitcher aimed for the outside corner again.
Crack!
“Huh?”
“Ooooh!”
Matsuda glared at the pitcher for a beat, then flipped the bat.
It’s huge! It’s huge!
The ball launched like a rocket straight to center.
Boom!
Gone! Matsuda Masahiro drills the back screen for a solo home run! We’re tied, 1–1!
Wooooah!
“Yes!”
“Wooooaaaah!”
“Matsuda!”
The bench exploded. I was on my feet with everyone else. The stands were standing and clapping. We all crowded around to greet the man who’d just tied the game.
“Nice hit.”
“Thanks.”
Matsuda exchanged a quick word with Coach Maeda and dropped onto the bench.
“Cocky bastard, throwing the same fastball to the same spot twice?”
He chugged water, still looking a little heated.
“·····”
The other upperclassmen had always said Matsuda’s competitive fire ran deep. I was seeing it now. Day to day he came off so cool and collected.
What I was going to say earlier—last year in the West Tokyo final, Matsuda also took Naruse deep.
Is that so! The cleanup bat that just tied the game! After last year’s tearful home run, Matsuda Masahiro goes yard again today! How will this one be remembered?
Crack!
“Tch.”
Timing was a hair late.
The left fielder backpedaled and made the catch. Our half of the fourth was over.
But the score was tied, and my shoulders definitely felt lighter.
“Crush it, Kokubo!”
“Take him down, Hongo!”
Pop!
“Strike three!”
Swing-and-miss strikeout! Inning over!
“Woooah! The splitter!”
“How’d that taste, Kokubo!”
“Haa·····”
Up in the stands, Seisho manager Nagasawa Haruka was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Every single pitch felt like walking on thin ice.
“Hongo-kun is incredible. He got even stronger after giving up the run.”
“Yeah.”
Haruka answered third-year Fukada Riko.
Hongo-kun.
The mound looked lonelier than usual today. She was already losing her mind just sitting in a packed crowd—how much worse must it be for Yukihisa standing out there alone?
High fly ball! Aizawa tips his cap!
The second baseman camps under it and the top of the fifth is over!
Seisho’s fifth-inning attack ended quietly. Sugano’s Naruse Tomoyuki still hadn’t allowed another run.
Crack!
“Out!”
The pitcher fields it himself for the first out!
Naruse’s bat still can’t solve Hongo today.
Pop!
“Strike three!”
Back-to-back strikeouts for Hongo Yukihisa! Another scoreless fifth!
Hahaha, both pitchers are dealing.
“Hongo! Hongo! Hongo!”
“Nice work!”
“Hang in there!”
“Hongo-senpai!”
We head to the top of the sixth!
“First batter, shortstop, Shirakawa.”
Top of the sixth. The 1–1 deadlock still held.
“·····”
I almost want to go throw in the bullpen.
My body felt strangely on fire. It was a ridiculous thought, but I wanted to keep throwing just to stay sharp.
“Shirakawa!”
“Captain!”
“Get on base for us!”
A good spot in the order to start something. Shirakawa Satoru stepped in.
Crack!
He swung at the first pitch.
“Huh?”
The ball takes a funny hop!
Toward first!
A ball that cleared the pitcher’s head. The shortstop fired to first, but—
“Safe!”
Safe! They can’t get him at first!
“Nice, Shirakawa!”
Leadoff baserunner. Our dugout energy spiked instantly.
“Second batter, second baseman, Minamino.”
As expected, he squares to bunt.
Minamino is a master of small ball—Seisho is hunting the go-ahead run.
He hit near the top of the order, but pure contact wasn’t his strongest suit. What he did have was elite bunting and bat control—no one on the team could match him there.
Tap!
Perfectly placed bunt!
Oh no!
The third baseman was waiting, but the bunt rolled too slowly. He rushed the throw to first.
“Yesss!”
I cheered louder than anyone.
The first baseman can’t handle it!
Ohhhhh, and now—!
Minamino was already flying toward second. Shirakawa was racing for third.
Both runners advance an extra base! Nobody out, runners on second and third!
How did that just happen?!
Even one out and a runner on second would have been a win. Instead we had nobody out and two in scoring position. Luck had finally swung our way.
“Third batter, third baseman, Kazuma.”
“Crush it!”
“Kazuma!”
“Finish Naruse!”
The noise from the bench and the stands was loud enough to hurt. On the Sugano mound, the fielders gathered around their pitcher.
“·····”
Naruse Tomoyuki. He was calmly settling his teammates down. That was what an ace looked like, I supposed.
I didn’t have the people skills for that kind of thing.
But that doesn’t matter.
We were going to win. And to do it, we had to score right here.
Sugano’s ace Naruse is facing his biggest crisis of the day.
He’s met a true rival on the mound today. If he allows a run here…
Pop!
“Strike!”
Crack!
“Foul!”
Just foul. Kazuma looked frustrated again.
Naruse came set once more.
Pop!
“Whoa!”
Time seemed to freeze.
“Ball!”
“Hoo.”
“Almost had a heart attack.”
The umpire’s hand stayed down. The whole bench exhaled in relief, half-convinced it had been a strike.
The count still favors the pitcher.
One ball, two strikes!
If he gets the out here, the next hitter will feel the pressure—but that next hitter is Matsuda Masahiro, who already went deep earlier!
“·····”
Naruse nodded and delivered.
Crack!
Splitter?
A diving splitter. But Junpei got the barrel on it.
He got it! And it drops in front of the center fielder for a hit!
Kazuma, already halfway to first, clenched both fists and roared.