Honestly, some people think that in the duel between pitcher and batter, they are on equal footing—whether the batter swings or the pitcher throws, it seems like a fifty-fifty match… But in reality, more often than not, the pitcher faces far more disadvantages.
Take the pitcher-catcher relationship, for example.
It’s frustrating to face a batter who’s calm as a mountain, because you can’t read their thoughts, can’t tell which pitch they’ll swing at.
It’s like a poker face at a casino!
A single at-bat in baseball is a pulse-pounding confrontation.
From raw physical strength to psychological warfare, so many factors come into play.
Consecutive hits, no outs, runners on first and third—and now a first-year batter, enough to give even his own upperclassmen and team aces headaches.
Honestly, at this moment, Kawakami was carrying a shadow in his mind—a shadow that felt almost measurable!
The pressure on the pitcher’s mound is something ordinary people cannot comprehend.
Half-hearted players simply cannot stand there.
And Kanzaki Yuto?
This was a showdown.
A fight where there’s only victory or defeat.
He had already failed once—this time, he would not fail again.
Kanzaki Yuto clenched his fists, and a slight sheen of sweat appeared on his palms, showing that his mind was far from calm.
Calm down… don’t let it jump around, he silently urged himself, hoping to steady his turbulent thoughts.
On the surface, Kanzaki Yuto appeared perfectly calm, standing motionless, solid as a mountain.
Yet internally, he was far from serene.
Even a man who had lived two lives like Kanzaki Yuto would feel more composed than his peers, but that didn’t mean his mind was truly still.
Without experiencing each heated match firsthand, without living through all the trials, some things could not simply be understood or executed.
It’s easy to talk, but hard to act.
Moreover, for those battle-hardened players facing a pivotal moment capable of shifting the game’s momentum in a single strike, the inner tension is obvious.
Very few people in the world can truly maintain composure at all times.
The sweat on Kanzaki Yuto’s brow and the faint nervousness in his eyes betrayed his unusual emotional state.
Unlike his previous at-bat against Tanba, now he suddenly felt an indescribable weight on his shoulders.
Especially seeing Kominato Haruichi on first and Sawamura Eijun on third—the sense of responsibility sprang up from nowhere.
He had to bring them home!
This responsibility became a burden in Kanzaki Yuto’s heart.
Yet this burden wasn’t simply good or bad—some people convert it into motivation, while others slowly wither under it.
Coach Kataoka, standing near Kanzaki Yuto, could undoubtedly sense the subtle shift in his emotions.
No—subtle was an understatement.
It was a turbulent wave.
It was just an intra-squad game, yet the moment felt different.
Kataoka furrowed his brow slightly.
Few knew that he valued Kanzaki Yuto as highly as, if not more than, Furuya.
There’s a saying: in baseball, as long as you don’t give up runs, you can’t lose.
But there’s another truth: no matter how hard the pitcher tries, if the offense can’t score, you will never win.
Pitchers and batters alike—on a team level, offense and defense are equally crucial.
This is self-evident.
And the team’s pillar hitter is even more critical.
In Kataoka’s eyes, Kanzaki Yuto had the potential to become Seidou’s future cleanup hitter.
His mentality, spirit, and talent showed possibilities others hadn’t noticed.
Hence, Kataoka gave Kanzaki Yuto special trust and attention that outsiders couldn’t understand.
“First pitch!” This was a high-stakes pitch.
Could the first-years show their fighting spirit this inning?
It all depended on this at-bat.
No matter how many hits they’d accumulated, if they couldn’t score with bases loaded, it would all be meaningless.
Only runs mattered.
Results were everything.
Forget that nonsense about “it’s the participation that counts.” High school baseball is about results.
No runs, no victories, no Koshien—everything else is meaningless.
Everything hinges on the outcome.
Humans are practical beings.
Hoo!
A streak of white approached as the baseball whistled toward Kanzaki Yuto.
His pupils constricted, and instinctively, he swung.
“SMACK!” An inside slider!
Kanzaki Yuto gritted his teeth, adjusted his stance, but the first swing was a miss.
Perhaps his intense concentration had overstrained him—his eyes momentarily lost focus and failed to track the ball.
He hadn’t even fully seen the inside pitch, so swinging and missing was natural.
This kid…?
If Miyauchi had been cautious before, now he noticed Kanzaki Yuto’s mental state seemed off.
Could it be…?
Miyauchi squinted, slightly uncertain.
Hmph, just as expected, still a first-year brat!
Although nearly certain, Miyauchi couldn’t rule out that Kanzaki Yuto might be faking.
First-year tricksters were not unheard of.
“Kawakami, next, throw an outside ball—a bit off the mark is fine.
Make sure it’s tricky!” Miyauchi’s eyes locked on Kawakami as he signaled.
Kawakami nodded slightly.
Kanzaki Yuto felt his anxiety rising.
Not good… he seemed to be losing control of his emotions.
What’s coming next?
Outside?
Inside?
Should I guess or rely on my eyes?
No… His mind briefly stalled.
“SMACK!” Strike!
The crisp sound of the ball hitting the mitt and Kataoka’s cold voice snapped Kanzaki Yuto back.
He looked shocked at his second swing and the empty stance left behind.
His lips twitched slightly… Two strikes.
The future cleanup hitter, Kanzaki Yuto, was already standing on the cliff’s edge.