Crack!
Carlos got the pitch he wanted and sent it sharply into the infield.
The ball bounced toward shortstop, allowing Kuramochi to move in quickly.
Smack!
His glove met the ball just as it took a high hop.
But Carlos was already sprinting down the first-base line.
Whoosh!
Kuramochi fired a strong throw to first.
Whoosh!
Carlos launched himself into a headfirst slide.
Thump!
The baseball landed in Yuki Tetsuya's glove almost simultaneously with Carlos touching the bag.
Both players immediately turned toward the umpire.
The play was too close to judge with the naked eye.
Did Yuki catch the ball first?
Or did Carlos beat the throw?
Everything depended on the umpire's decision.
"Safe!"
The first-base umpire spread his arms.
Instantly, the Inashiro crowd erupted.
"Nice one, Carlos!"
"We've finally got a runner on!"
"Keep the pressure on them!"
The Inashiro supporters clenched their fists excitedly.
At the same time, the Seido stands grew noticeably quieter.
A runner on base meant pressure.
Pressure on the defense.
Pressure on the pitcher.
On the mound, Ushijima glanced toward shortstop.
"That should've been an easy out."
Kuramochi froze.
He knew exactly what had happened.
Ever since Kominato's injury had started affecting him, Kuramochi had been unconsciously worrying about covering second base.
That hesitation had delayed his reaction by a split second.
Normally, Carlos would've been out.
No matter how fast he was.
Kuramochi lowered his eyes.
"Sorry."
But Ushijima simply shrugged.
"It's fine. Just get the next one."
Yuki immediately joined in.
"We can still turn a double play."
Behind the plate, Miyuki became even more focused.
Both he and Ushijima understood the situation.
This inning was critical.
In baseball, momentum can change everything.
If Inashiro scored here, the atmosphere of the game would shift completely.
Carlos reaching base could become the turning point.
Ushijima looked toward the batter's box.
Shirakawa was stepping in.
A cold light flashed through his eyes.
"In that case..."
"We'll crush the momentum before it starts."
Miyuki immediately called for the next pitch.
Shirakawa stepped into the box, remembering his previous at-bat.
The overwhelming speed.
The constant movement.
The inability to predict what was coming next.
Whoosh!
Ushijima delivered the pitch.
The baseball raced toward home plate at roughly 145 km/h.
Shirakawa's eyes widened.
A fastball down the middle?
No!
It's moving!
But which one?
Cutter?
Shootball?
Two-seamer?
Sinker?
The thought process lasted less than a tenth of a second.
He swung.
The ball reached the plate.
Then it broke sharply down and away.
Whiff!
"Cutter!"
Shirakawa cursed inwardly.
It was another cutter.
In his previous at-bat, Ushijima had already thrown multiple cutters.
Logically, there was no reason to open the next at-bat with the same pitch.
But Ushijima did exactly that.
Strike one.
Even Carlos standing on first was surprised.
The Inashiro bench exchanged uneasy looks.
"They opened with a cutter again?"
"That's insane."
In the press section, Reporter Fujio adjusted his glasses.
"Shirakawa struck out last time after being set up by cutters."
"And now they start his next at-bat with another one."
Owada Akiko blinked.
"They're not afraid he'll be waiting for it?"
Fujio shook his head.
"That's exactly why it's dangerous."
"They know Shirakawa is expecting them to change patterns."
"So they're using that expectation against him."
He then glanced toward first base.
"Besides, Inashiro isn't likely to attempt a steal."
"Not after what happened to Hirai."
"Miyuki's caught-stealing rate is absurd."
"And with Ushijima's quick delivery..."
"Trying to steal is almost asking to get thrown out."
Back on the field, Carlos took a slightly larger lead.
Nearly two full meters off first base.
Yet Ushijima didn't even look at him.
No pickoff attempt.
No warning throw.
Nothing.
Carlos frowned.
He's completely ignoring me?
Does he really think I'm not a threat?
The disrespect irritated him.
But he remained patient.
One careless move would cost him everything.
On the mound, Ushijima began his delivery.
Shirakawa immediately locked in.
Whoosh!
The second pitch came in.
Almost identical speed.
Almost identical release.
Shirakawa's eyes narrowed.
This time, he was ready.
He committed earlier.
Faster.
More decisively.
Then the ball broke.
Again.
The same vicious movement.
The same sharp drop toward the outside corner.
"Damn it!"
Even knowing what was coming wasn't enough.
The cutter still fooled him.
Smack!
The ball slammed into Miyuki's mitt.
"Strike!"
The umpire's call echoed across the field.
Shirakawa clenched his teeth.
Two pitches.
Two strikes.
And the worst part?
He knew exactly what had beaten him.
That only made it more frustrating.
At that moment, his resentment toward Miyuki Kazuya reached a whole new level.