Clang!
Under countless gazes, the baseball soared high into the sky—
and dropped into the right-field stands.
Foul.
"So close!"
"It missed by just a few centimeters!"
"Next one's going out for sure!"
Ichidaisan's side fell from anticipation into frustration, while Yakushi's dugout exhaled in relief. In a single moment, the mood flipped completely.
"That scared the life out of me…" Todoroki Raizō muttered, slumping in his seat and patting his chest.
Around him, the others wiped imaginary sweat from their brows.
"Ah… that was close," Sanada Shunpei said with a grin. Despite the near home run, his smile never faded. If anything, it grew sharper.
He was the type who thrived under pressure.
Across from him, Ōmae Takahiro showed no frustration. He simply reset his stance, his presence growing even heavier.
Sanada's grip tightened around the ball.
Good… come at me.
Even after that near miss, Sanada attacked the same spot—
high and inside.
Clang!
"Foul!"
Clang!
"Foul!"
Clang!
"Foul!"
Pitch after pitch, neither side gave an inch.
Sanada kept challenging the inside corner relentlessly.
Ōmae responded to every single pitch—no hesitation, no retreat.
The entire stadium fell silent, unwilling to disturb the duel unfolding before them.
Then—
"Sanada," Watanabe Tatsuya signaled subtly. "Fastballs alone won't finish him… let's use that pitch."
Sanada's grin widened.
Ōmae's eyes sharpened. He could feel it—
something was coming.
Sanada raised both arms, lifting his leg even higher than before.
Then—
he drove it down.
His arm whipped forward with explosive force.
Call!
Ōmae didn't know what was coming.
With a full count, there was only one option—
Swing!
Whoosh—
At the last instant—
the ball broke sharply.
It veered off its original path and cut straight toward his body.
Smack!
Ōmae's bat sliced through empty air.
"Strike three!"
For a split second, disbelief froze on his face.
Then the reality hit.
The cleanup batter—struck out.
"STRIKEOUT!!!"
The commentator's voice exploded across the stadium.
"Shunpei Sanada takes down Ichidaisan's fourth batter—Ōmae Takahiro! A Koshien powerhouse and two-home-run hitter in this very game—completely shut down! What an incredible performance!"
"Too strong…"
"Yakushi isn't just a dark horse anymore!"
"With a pitcher like this… they're on the level of the top schools!"
"Sanada just changed everything!"
The crowd roared.
"Yakushi! Yakushi! Yakushi!"
The chant spread across the stadium like wildfire.
On the field—
Sanada stood tall, his momentum surging.
The next batter, Hoshida, could only manage a weak pop-up in front of the mound.
Sanada stepped forward—
and caught it cleanly.
"Three outs! Change!"
The tide had completely turned.
Riding the momentum, Sanada dominated.
In the bottom of the seventh, Ichidaisan's core lineup was shut down without a single runner reaching base.
The cheers only grew louder.
But Ichidaisan refused to fall.
Inspired by Sanada's performance, Manaka Kaname answered in kind.
In the eighth inning, he stormed through Yakushi's lineup—striking out two batters in succession.
Even Todoroki Raichi, in his third at-bat, was finally subdued through a coordinated effort.
On the other side, Sanada remained merciless.
With sharp control and overwhelming pressure, he struck out Ichidaisan's sixth, seventh, and eighth batters in the eighth inning.
After eight innings—
the score remained tied.
10–10.
Everything would be decided—
in the ninth.
Top of the ninth.
Manaka, now fully locked in, struck out the first batter.
But the next—
Hirakawa Takahiro—
fought his way on base.
Then—
he stole second.
The pressure mounted instantly.
The second batter laid down a perfect bunt.
Runner on third.
Two outs.
Ichidaisan's chance—
had arrived.
"Third batter—Miyagawa Teru!"
Clang!
"Foul!"
Clang!
"Foul!"
Again and again—
Miyagawa swung at everything.
Five pitches.
Five fouls.
He refused to back down.
"He's desperate now, Sanada-senpai!"
"Finish him!"
"End it here!"
Yakushi's entire dugout was on its feet.
Across the field—
Ichidaisan roared back.
"Swing with everything, Miyagawa!"
"The pitcher's slowing down!"
"Trust your bat! Trust your training!"
"Bring it home!"
Even the crowd stood, voices overlapping, emotions clashing.
All eyes locked onto the mound.
On Sanada.
On Miyagawa.
On the final pitch—
that would decide everything.