After Miyuki Kazuya finished giving the sign, he immediately let Ushijima Wakatoshi begin.
Ushijima understood at once.
The first pitch came.
Whoosh!
Clang!
The baseball arrived at home plate in a blink—and was just as quickly sent flying away.
It screamed past first base and sailed out of bounds.
"Foul!" the umpire announced.
"Whoa ho ho~"
"If that had stayed fair, it would've been a home run to right field."
"Yeah. Captain Tetsu was just a bit unlucky. If the angle were slightly better, that was gone."
On the pitcher's mound, Ushijima Wakatoshi's aura intensified.
That pitch had been dangerous.
He almost took me deep.
Fortunately, the ball had drifted foul the moment it took flight.
Boom!
Ushijima Wakatoshi erupted like a gas canister, blue flames surging around him.
Boom!
In the left batter's box, Yuki Tetsuya did the same his presence flaring just as fiercely.
"..."
The surrounding players fell silent.
Finally, Kominato couldn't help commenting,
"By the way… is that 'gas canister' thing hereditary? Even the color's the same."
"Yeah," Isashiki replied lazily. "Looks like it runs in the family."
Kominato narrowed his eyes.
"Next should be a two-seam, right?"
"It depends," Isashiki said. "On whether that kid has the guts."
Ushijima Wakatoshi was a right-handed pitcher.
When he threw a two-seam, the ball naturally moved to his right.
In simple terms—
Against a right-handed batter, the two-seam would drift inside, toward the batter's body.
Against a left-handed batter, it would drift away, toward the outside corner.
Using the nine-panel grid as an example:
If Ushijima aimed for panel 4, the ball would drift to panel 5 before reaching home plate.
If he aimed for panel 5, it would drift to panel 6.
If he aimed for panel 6, it would drift out of the strike zone entirely.
That last one was especially tricky.
If the batter didn't swing—it was a ball.
If the batter did swing and missed—it became a strike.
Because of this, most right-handed pitchers avoided throwing two-seams to right-handed batters.
One mistake, and it turned into an easy inside pitch to crush.
Crack!
Ushijima Wakatoshi stepped forward aggressively and fired the second pitch.
His arm whipped through the air, releasing the ball with full commitment.
Yuki Tetsuya saw it immediately.
Slower than before.
"A two-seam…? Inside two-seam?"
After making his read, Yuki swung decisively.
But just as the bat was about to meet the ball—
The baseball suddenly slid inward, barely slipping past the bat.
Thud!
The ball slammed into Miyuki's mitt.
Miyuki's posture twisted awkwardly from the force and angle.
If Yuki hadn't swung, that pitch would've been a ball.
But Ushijima's two-seam had forced the swing.
Strike.
"Oh ho ho~" Isashiki exclaimed.
"That bastard actually dared to do it."
"Against Yuki, and he still threw an inside two-seam—and fooled him."
The shock in Isashiki's voice was genuine.
Even Coach Kataoka was surprised.
He understood very well how sharp the two-seam's movement could be.
Aim for panel 4, it drifted to 5.
Aim for panel 5, it drifted to 6.
Aim for panel 6, it drifted out.
The pitch was a gamble.
Even if you guessed the pitch type correctly, you still had to read the exact trajectory.
And clearly—
Yuki Tetsuya had guessed two-seam.
But he hadn't calculated the movement perfectly.
That was unavoidable.
It was the first two-seam he had faced from Ushijima.
"This kid's got nerves," Miyuki muttered, tossing the ball back.
On the mound, Ushijima Wakatoshi lowered his head and scraped the dirt with his cleats.
Then he bent forward, eyes fixed on Miyuki's signs.
After reading the signal, he nodded.
He raised both hands, fingers tightening around the ball.
Then he pitched.
Whoosh!!!
The velocity wasn't high—no more than 140 km/h.
Around 135 km/h, maybe a little more.
The trajectory headed toward panel 3—
A high inside pitch for Yuki Tetsuya.
Inside two-seam?
Will it drift out?
Even though something felt off, Yuki swung anyway.
And then—
Right before contact—
The ball shifted sideways.
But not inward.
It cut sharply toward the outside.
"What—?! A cutter?!"
Clang!
The bat bit into the ball, but the sudden lateral movement jammed him.
The ball was hit—
But weakly.
It dropped right in front of the mound.
Ushijima Wakatoshi reacted instantly.
Two quick steps forward.
Scoop.
Throw.
Slap!
The ball smacked into the first baseman's glove.
"Out!" the umpire called, waving both arms.
"!!!!!!!"
The pupils of Kuramochi, Kominato, and Isashiki trembled.
Behind the plate, Miyuki Kazuya felt his blood surge.
Coach Kataoka's heart raced.
The cutter's release point, arm motion, and initial trajectory—
They were identical to the two-seam.
Only at the very last moment did the difference appear.
For a right-handed pitcher:
A two-seam breaks to the pitcher's right.
A cutter breaks to the pitcher's left.
And the speed—
It was close enough to completely blur the distinction.
Ushijima Wakatoshi's cutter was only Silver-level.
A Diamond cutter could reach 155 km/h.
At Silver, 135 km/h was already excellent.
At that speed—
It was roughly comparable to Sawamura Eijun's cutter.
And yet—
That was enough.