Top of the eleventh inning.
Seidō High School Baseball Team was on the attack.
Zhou Hao stepped up first—
Crack!
A clean, perfect swing sent the ball soaring over the fence for a home run.
One run. 4–3.
Yuki followed with a line drive. Azuma Kiyokuni after him—another clean hit.
Two more bases.
Another run.
The scoreboard now read 5–3.
Two runs ahead. In extra innings. Against Inashiro Industrial.
For any other team, this would feel like victory already in their grasp.
But Seidō wasn't any other team.
They weren't satisfied. Not even close.
They wanted to bury their long-time rival completely. Grind them into the dirt until there was no chance—no oxygen—for a comeback.
"Don't give Inashiro even a breath of hope."
Shimoi stepped into the batter's box, eyes sharp. With runners on base, the pressure on Inashiro's rookie pitcher, Narumiya Mei, was crushing.
"Don't wait for a perfect pitch," Shimoi thought. "If it's hittable—take it."
Narumiya wound up.
Whoosh!
The fastball came in—still quick, but clearly losing its earlier fire.
Shimoi's pupils widened. This was it.
Crack!
The bat sliced through the air with a sharp whistle. Harada, behind the plate, flinched.
When the game began, Seidō's swings hadn't felt this heavy. But now—deep into extra innings—these guys were still hitting like it was the first inning.
Did they ever get tired?
The ball shot toward shortstop.
Glove down, scoop—perfect transition to second.
Snap! Relay to first—
Thud!
"Out! Out!"
A double play.
Inashiro's fielders and fans erupted. A textbook double play under this kind of pressure—beautiful.
It was a reminder: Inashiro's strength wasn't just pitching. Their defense was elite. And their new Ace… was something special.
Still, the scoreboard glared: 5–3.
No matter how smooth the defense, those two runs hung over them like a mountain.
Two outs. Bases empty.
"Sixth batter—Miyuki Kazuya."
The captain stepped up, bat high. No runners? Didn't matter. If he could tack on another run here, their lead would be nearly unshakable.
But Narumiya Mei wasn't giving in. Even on fumes, his pitches still cut the air with stubborn precision.
Crack!
Miyuki connected—but only grazed it.
The ball arced high. Inashiro's first baseman settled under it, glove steady.
Snap!
"Out!"
Three outs. Changeover.
Inashiro fans roared in relief. Narumiya had bent but refused to break.
In that moment, he looked more like Inashiro's true Ace than the veteran who had left earlier.
Even Seidō's bench couldn't help but respect him.
"After giving up two runs… he shut us down."
And still—hope lingered for Inashiro. As long as the gap was only two runs, the door wasn't completely closed. Four runs? That would be impossible. But two? In theory, still possible.
"He really is Inashiro's true Ace."
Bottom of the eleventh.
Zhou Hao strode to the mound.
The faces of those praising Narumiya tightened.
Seidō also had a first-year phenom.
And he was their true Ace.
Yoshida wasn't bad—but Zhou Hao was something else entirely.
Every Seidō supporter in the stands believed it:
With him on the mound, this game was already over.
"Eighth batter—pitcher, Narumiya Mei."
Kunitomo didn't even consider a pinch-hitter. He wanted Mei to pitch until the very end.
Miyuki crouched, eyes flicking between the fiery Narumiya and his own pitcher.
Two first-year rookies. The deciding duel of West Tokyo's two giants would come down to them.
"This is your last showdown," Miyuki thought. "Show him everything."
Signal given. Zhou Hao nodded almost imperceptibly.
He wound up—
Whoosh!
The ball screamed in.
In the batter's box, Narumiya's eyes burned.
"I'll take back the runs I gave up—myself!"
Both hands clenched the bat, muscles straining—
and he swung with everything he had.
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