Sawamura got his three outs, and the sides switched.
The game moved to the fifth inning.
Zhang Han remained on the mound. Chris had been moved to catcher. The two had been spending a lot of time practicing together recently, and it showed in how naturally they fell into step with each other.
"Give up now, or fight a little longer?"
Chris asked him directly.
After watching Furuya Satoru pitch, even Chris, who had always had confidence in Zhang Han, had to be honest with himself. As long as Furuya Satoru was around, Zhang Han's right-handed pitching would have very little room to operate.
The difference in what each of them brought was simply too large. Even if Furuya put in one part of effort and Zhang Han put in three, Zhang Han might still not close the gap. That kind of difference was inherent, and effort alone couldn't bridge it.
"I practiced my right-handed pitching for three full years. Even when Coach said it had limited development potential, I never stopped."
Chris understood before Zhang Han finished.
After that much persistence, even knowing it might not lead anywhere, it wasn't something you could simply put down.
"In my experience, you're not usually this stubborn. Do you still have something you haven't shown yet?"
Chris asked it plainly.
"You're all impossible to deal with. There's no secret."
Zhang Han's expression shifted slightly, as if pulling up an old memory.
"Every pitch I've thrown at Seido has been a fastball. But back at Matsukata, I didn't only throw fastballs. Would you like to see my breaking ball, Senior?"
"I'm looking forward to it."
A smile crossed Chris's face.
As a senior, he genuinely cared about his juniors. But caring for them didn't mean standing aside while they showed off in front of him and the rest of the second and third-year seniors.
At this moment, Chris and Zhang Han were on the same side of that line. Whatever it took, they were going to put these younger players in their place.
The game restarted with Zhang Han on the mound.
The freshmen believed their scoreless fourth inning had largely been down to luck, but it had lifted their spirits regardless. When things are going well, the reason doesn't matter much. And after watching Furuya Satoru's performance, they had come to feel that Zhang Han's pitching, while still formidable, didn't seem quite as untouchable as before. Given enough time, given eyes that had adjusted, they still had a chance.
The sixth batter stepped in. Kariba, the catcher, who had come up through little league.
If anyone had seen a high volume of fastballs in their career, it was probably a catcher. Kariba had caught more than most. He believed his eyes had adjusted to Zhang Han's velocity.
He was also clear-eyed enough to know that adjusted eyes and actually making contact were two separate things. So he had worked out a plan. Waiting for the ball to arrive before swinging was not going to work. He would have to commit early, guessing the location in advance.
It sounded reckless. But Zhang Han's delivery had a relatively large motion, and while his control was excellent, it wasn't without patterns. There were traces to read if you looked hard enough.
And besides, as that loudmouth on the sideline kept saying, as long as you swing, you have a chance.
"Here it comes."
Zhang Han's delivery looked the same as every pitch before it.
The ball shot out like a beam of light, covering the distance in an instant.
Kariba didn't wait. He had already committed to his timing and swung before the ball arrived, trusting his read on Zhang Han's straight trajectory. If the bat could intercept the line, he had a chance.
Now.
He put everything into the swing.
Then something unexpected happened.
The ball, which had been traveling straight, dropped sharply as it reached him.
A curveball?
A wave of dread rose in Kariba's chest.
Zhang Han's fastball alone had already been more than they could handle. How did he also have a breaking ball?
How were they supposed to sit on the fastball now?
"Thwack."
Chris caught the ball cleanly and stood up, returning it to Zhang Han with a smile. As he did, he glanced back at Coach Kataoka's expression.
He wondered whether their coaches already knew Zhang Han had a breaking ball at this level. During last year's freshman welcome match, Zhang Han clearly hadn't used one. Perhaps he had been deliberately holding back. If so, holding back had nearly buried his right-handed pitching entirely.
As Chris had expected, Coach Kataoka was very interested.
"Besides that forkball, do you have any other breaking balls? How long did it take you to learn it?"
The game came to an unexpected halt.
Kariba stared at Coach Kataoka.
A forkball? He had been certain that was a curveball.
"I also have a slider. My coach at Matsukata told me that learning breaking balls too young wasn't good for a pitcher's arm, so these two were mostly kept for emergencies. By my third year, I barely threw them at all. The forkball took three days to learn. The slider took about a week."
Coach Kataoka looked at Zhang Han for a long moment and said nothing.
After about ten seconds, his expression returned to normal.
"Continue."
Kariba's legs had gone slightly weak.
Not only a fastball, but a forkball and a slider on top of it. He had just managed to work out a rough approach for dealing with the fastball, and even then, whether he could actually make contact had been uncertain. Now there were two breaking balls in the mix, and Zhang Han had already started using them.
He had no idea what to look for anymore.
The only honest option was to surrender.
"Strike."
"Strike."
"Strike. Strikeout."
Starting from Kariba, the remaining batters went down one after another.
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