After processing the previous intelligence report, the scout continued.
"They have another pitcher, third-year Mino Hayato. His skill is very ordinary. His fastball doesn't exceed 140 km/h, and while he's mastered several pitch types, none pose a serious threat to our batting lineup."
"As for their batting lineup," the scout continued, "the third-year core—Ota Isao, Yamauchi Yutaka, and Kobayashi Keisuke—is basically only at the level of our second team. A little attention is enough. But there's one thing that's been bothering me."
Coach Tahara noticed the hesitation and asked, "What is it?"
"Maybe I'm overthinking, but eight of Yakushi High's players are first-years," the scout said.
"Whoa, no way! That's ridiculous."
"First-years making up almost half the main roster? That is strange," Tahara admitted, feeling an odd sensation in his chest. "Have these eight played any games? How's their skill level?"
"A few have," the scout replied, flipping through his record sheet. "Nakanishi Daiki, Masuda Atsushi, Moriyama Makoto. Their skill is excellent—but not enough to turn a game on its head."
"Well, for a small school with limited numbers, using first-years isn't unusual," Tahara said. "It's not like eight prodigies would all gather at the same obscure school—it'd be even more ridiculous."
A teammate spoke up, trying to ease the tension: "That's right. No matter what the opponent does, sticking to our own style should suffice."
"Exactly," Coach Tahara concluded.
Yakushi High School
The team trained with fervor.
"Everyone up! Break's over!" Todoroki Raizo, unusually energetic, carried a large basket of baseballs to Home Plate and shouted at the sprawled players.
Clang!
"Hurry up, Raichi! You're too slow; the ball went right past you!"
"I'm running, you damn old man!" Todoroki Raichi retorted as he sprinted.
Thump, thump, thump, thump. Whoosh! Slap!
Despite the slight chaos, the ball reached Mishima Yuta's glove at first base in time.
"Good. Next, center fielder!"
"Yes!"
Clang!
Yamauchi Yutaka was a step late, letting the baseball slip past. Todoroki Raizo roared from Home Plate.
"Don't be sluggish! Throw to Home Plate!"
"Next ball, shortstop!"
"Yes!"
After training, all members gathered in two rows.
"There's still a game tomorrow, so today's training ends here. The game starts in the afternoon. But Seido High vs. Akikawa Academy is at 10 AM—you're required to watch. Tomorrow morning, stretch and arrive at the stadium before 9 AM. Temperature will exceed thirty degrees, so don't overdo self-practice tonight. Get enough rest. Understood?"
"Yes!!!"
"Listen up! So far, things have gone according to plan," Todoroki Raizo said sternly. "Our next opponents are no pushovers. We've done all the prep we can. The time for the test has come. Next, I'll announce the starting lineup for tomorrow against Ichidaisan High School."
Cleanup hitter, second baseman: Fukuda Daiki
Second batter, left fielder: Akiba Kazuma
Third batter, first base: Mishima Yuta
Cleanup hitter, third baseman: Todoroki Raichi
Fifth batter, right fielder: Kitamura Kou
Sixth batter, center fielder: Yamauchi Yutaka
Seventh batter, catcher: Watanabe Tatsuya
Eighth batter, shortstop: Kobayashi Keisuke
Ninth batter, pitcher: Mino Hayato
"Sanada, be ready at all times. If the game goes poorly, you'll enter immediately. Kitamura, although you won't pitch tomorrow, Ichidaisan High is one of the Three Great Powers of West Tokyo—don't underestimate them. If an emergency arises, you'll take the mound. Mentally prepare. Understood?"
"Yes…"
"Dismissed!"
"Kou, what's next? Watching Ichidaisan High's footage again?" Akaishi Osamu asked.
"No need. The simulation's done. Time to show our strength with the bat," Kitamura Kou said seriously.
"You're really reliable, Kou, hehehe," Nakanishi Daiki said, nudging Kou's arm playfully.
Night – Clover Café
"Welcome… hmm?"
Tsukishima Ichiyo, busy at the counter, noticed a customer. She turned to greet them and saw Kitamura Kou.
"Oh, Kou! Long time no see. How have you been?"
"Busy with practice and games for the Summer Qualifiers. But I've really been craving your meat sauce noodles, Sister Ichiyo," Kitamura Kou said happily.
"You're so tanned! You really look like a high school baseball player now," she laughed.
"Hmph, what's the use? He still hasn't played a game," Tsukishima Aoba's voice came from the side, dripping with mockery. "Yakushi High's played three games already, and a certain someone hasn't had a single minute."
"Who knows? Kou isn't playing because he's a secret weapon," Tsukishima Wakaba defended him.
"What if he's just not skilled enough, and the coach won't let him play? You're too naive to believe that he's a secret weapon," Aoba scoffed, trying to provoke her sister.
"Aoba, Kou wouldn't lie to me," Wakaba said, smiling at Kou.
Aoba, furious, demanded, "What are you doing here? Confess quickly!"
Kou remained calm. "Nothing serious. I just wanted to eat a bowl of meat sauce noodles I haven't had in a while. Oh, and to let a certain stingy person know—I'm in the starting lineup for tomorrow's game."