The baseball was on the verge of sailing straight out of the park.
But suddenly—
The previously clear, windless sky shifted. A strong gust of wind swept across the field, pushing the ball off course by more than ten centimeters.
In the end, the ball drifted foul.
"Foul ball!"
The players and supporters of Inashiro Industrial High School let out a collective sigh of relief.
Meanwhile, groans erupted from Yakushi's dugout.
"Ahhh! What a waste!"
"That would've been a home run if not for that wind!"
"It's definitely the coach's bad luck again!"
All the Yakushi players turned to glare at Todoroki Raizo as if they wanted to beat him up.
Their stares finally broke his composure.
"What are you looking at?!" he snapped. "Don't pin that nonsense on me! I've got a temper too, you know! Keep it up and I'll make you run laps and take a thousand full swings after the game!"
Intimidated, the players immediately looked away and fell silent.
On the field, Narumiya Mei took a few deep breaths to steady himself.
That last hit had nearly cost them a run.
Lucky…
If not for that sudden gust, the situation would have been completely different.
Behind the plate, Masatoshi Harada didn't call for a timeout. He trusted Narumiya. Instead, he calmly signaled the next pitch.
Narumiya didn't disappoint.
"Whoosh!"
The second pitch came in fast—146 km/h—high and tight, with a sharp, tricky trajectory.
Kitamura Kou didn't hesitate.
He swung.
Clang!
The ball nicked the thinner part of the bat and shot backward into the net.
"Foul!"
Third pitch.
Fourth pitch.
Narumiya painted the corners with precision, attacking every edge of the strike zone.
And Kitamura answered every time.
As long as the pitch wasn't too far outside, he swung—and sent it foul again and again.
Kitamura exhaled slowly, adjusting his breathing. He casually smoothed the dirt in the batter's box with his foot.
This guy is tough…
I nearly took him deep, and he still isn't backing down. Not only that—his pitching is getting sharper.
No wonder he's the best left-handed pitcher in Kanto.
But a fastball alone won't stop me… a breaking ball is coming.
His eyes sharpened.
Changeup? Slider? Forkball?
The changeup almost got me last time… but would he really risk it again?
…He might.
Kitamura tightened his grip on the bat, focusing entirely on the next pitch.
Behind the plate, Harada made his decision.
If we can get him to swing at this… there's a 70% chance we take him out.
He gave the sign.
Narumiya nodded and fired.
"Whoosh!"
The ball came in noticeably slower, low and outside.
Kitamura's eyes narrowed.
Not a fastball.
Given what he's shown… high chance this drops out of the zone.
He held back—but stayed ready to react.
Just before reaching the plate, the ball sharply dropped and hit the dirt.
"Smack!"
"Ball!"
Kitamura let out a quiet breath.
That was close… if I swung, I'd be out.
Harada clicked his tongue.
Didn't bite… fine, we'll take him head-on.
Count: two strikes, one ball.
Narumiya still held the advantage.
He raised his arm and delivered the next pitch.
"Whoosh!"
The ball shot high and outside—near head level.
Fastball? Forkball? Slider?
A brutal pitch to judge.
Kitamura's mind raced.
Think—
At that moment—
Everything changed.
The roaring stadium fell silent.
The speeding ball slowed… as if time itself had stretched.
The rotation of the ball—once a blur—became crystal clear.
That spin…
It's a slider.
He had entered it—
The Zone.
A state every athlete dreams of.
It couldn't be forced. It required talent, discipline, and perfect timing.
Even for Kitamura Kou, it had only happened twice in his previous life—
Once in his high school finals…
And once at his peak in the major leagues.
And now—
For the second time in this life—
He stepped into that realm again.
The ball closed in on the plate.
For an ordinary batter, it was already too late.
But not for him.
A flash of lightning cut across home plate.
CLANG!!!