Seido would bat first.
Kuramochi stepped into the batter's box, rolling his shoulders as he glanced toward the mound.
Mishima High School's pitcher wore jersey number 10.
"Number 10?" Kuramochi muttered. "Where's their ace? I thought they had a left-handed pitcher."
The pitcher on the mound began his windup.
Kuramochi narrowed his eyes.
First batter's job: get on base.
But we have zero data on this guy. Swinging blindly would be reckless.
Before he could settle further into his thoughts—
The ball was already out of the pitcher's hand.
It traveled low.
Very low.
And slow.
Kuramochi held back his swing.
Thwack.
"Strike!"
Kuramochi blinked.
"…That slow?"
He almost laughed.
He was used to facing monsters in practice.
At Seido High School, both Furuya and Ushijima regularly threw high-velocity fastballs. Furuya could break 150 km/h. Ushijima could reach 155—though he sometimes reduced speed for control.
Even with that "reduced" speed, Ushijima's pitches were still around 30 km/h faster than what he had just seen.
Kuramochi quickly estimated it.
Around 115 km/h.
Not surprising for a sidearm pitcher.
Sidearm deliveries often sacrificed velocity for deception. The release point was lower, the angle sharper, and the trajectory trickier.
Still—
That arm slot is even lower than Kawakami's…
The ball seemed to float upward slightly before dipping late.
Slow.
But annoying.
In Mishima's dugout, their coach smirked.
"They don't know our pitcher."
"Against an unknown opponent, strong teams hesitate."
"Rule number one of our strategy—strike first."
Back in the batter's box, Kuramochi watched the second pitch.
Low again… probably grazing the zone…
He started to commit—
Too late.
The ball had already sunk into the catcher's mitt.
"Strike two!"
The Seido dugout fell silent.
Everyone understood what Kuramochi was trying to do observe first, gather information.
But—
"He got played," Ushijima muttered calmly.
Shirasu blinked. "Huh? Why?"
"They expected us to watch."
"They knew we'd hesitate early to read their pitcher."
"So they had no intention of throwing balls out of the zone."
"Two clean strikes. No bait."
"Now on the third pitch… Kuramochi will feel pressured."
Ushijima stood up and grabbed his glove.
"In this inning, we're not reaching the fourth batter."
Right as he finished speaking—
The third pitch came.
Kuramochi clenched his teeth.
No more room to wait.
I still have to bring back information to the dugout.
The pitcher released.
Low again.
Kuramochi swung decisively.
Crack—
No.
The ball had bounced in front of the plate.
A "digging sweet potato."
A pitch that hit the dirt before reaching the catcher.
"Damn it… a breaking ball? Slider? Curve?"
The awkward bounce disrupted his timing completely.
He tried to run it out, but the catcher recovered cleanly.
"Out!"
One down.
Back in the dugout, several teammates glanced at Ushijima.
He had called it perfectly.
Even Coach Kataoka gave him a brief, approving look.
Next up: Kominato.
From the batter's box, Kominato glanced toward the dugout, received the sign, and nodded slightly.
"Ushijima, want to warm up?" Chris asked quietly.
"Yeah."
Ushijima headed toward the bullpen area to begin loosening up.
Meanwhile, Kominato made contact—
But the third baseman reacted quickly.
Caught.
Two outs.
"Hmm… was my timing off?" Kominato smiled faintly as he returned.
Isashiki stepped up next.
Without hesitation, he took a massive swing—
Whiff.
From the bullpen, Ushijima scoffed.
"Wow! Great swing!"
"…Don't swing like that next time."
Isashiki froze.
His face turned red instantly.
"Shut up! Focus on your warm-up!"
"You talk too much!"
Ushijima only laughed as he casually threw another pitch into Chris's mitt.
On the field, Isashiki saw the second pitch.
He swung again full power.
This time he connected.
The ball flew high.
But not deep enough.
An easy catch.
Three up.
Three down.
Seido's dugout grew quiet.
"…What's going on?" someone muttered.
"Three batters and not a single baserunner?"
"Are we tight?"
"Bad start," Kuramochi said seriously. "We underestimated them."
Ushijima flexed his fingers inside his glove.
Slow pitches.
Low trajectory.
Relentless strikes.
Mishima wasn't overpowering.
They were controlling tempo.
Which meant—
It was time for Seido's ace to control the game.