Diamond No Ace: Life As Sawamura Eijun

Chapter 292: The Intense Finals Showdown

"Nice pitch, Sawamura! I thought you were going to keep giving up runs, haha!" Kuramochi wrapped an arm around Eijun's shoulders as they returned to the bench, grinning as he spoke.

"Haha, I knew you could do it. Plus, we're still in the lead. We'll score more soon, so you can pitch with less pressure," added Isashiki Jun, ruffling Eijun's hair with a hearty laugh.

"Good pitch," said Yuuki, his usual calm demeanor unchanged, offering a concise yet meaningful comment.

"Don't let your guard down now," Ryousuke chimed in with a playful smile.

"Ugaa!!!"

"Keep it up, Eijun!" Haruichi, his cheeks slightly flushed, encouraged earnestly.

"Good luck," murmured the usually stoic Furuya, his rare words carrying an unmistakable tone of sincerity.

As a fellow pitcher, Furuya might have felt some frustration at not being on the mound, but at this moment, the battle belonged to the entire team.

This was a fight for the pride and honor of everyone in Seidou High School.

The eighteen players on the roster and even those unable to sit on the bench shared the same determination and spirit.

Miyuki and Chris exchanged subtle smiles, while Coach Kataoka maintained his stern expression.

However, behind his sunglasses, a faint glimmer of pride and hope could be seen.

In this moment, Kataoka truly believed that they had the strength and potential to conquer the summer and become the strongest team of the season.

Eijun felt an overwhelming surge of strength from within, fueled by the support of his teammates and seniors.

Only victory could validate this effort and emotion.

Standing at the pinnacle was the only way to honor their hard work.

"Yes, I'll keep giving it my all!" Eijun replied firmly, his expression resolute. They had come too far to let victory slip away now. That championship banner was the ultimate symbol of glory.

"The bottom of the fifth inning. Seidou High's offense begins. Batting ninth, right fielder, Shirasu-kun."

Because of my mistake, I allowed a run.

I will get that run back, no matter what!!!

Shirasu stepped into the batter's box with an uncharacteristic fierce expression, radiating a menacing aura. This time, he would not let the opposing pitcher have it easy.

A short grip on the bat?

Behind home plate, Kanemoto narrowed his eyes. While Shirasu might not be an exceptional batter, he was consistent and lacked any glaring weaknesses.

His balanced abilities made him a reliable threat, even if he didn't possess the explosive power of someone like Yuuki.

However, with his strength enough to counter Kumo's fastballs, gripping the bat short sent a clear message—he was determined to get a hit no matter what.

"!!!"

Kanemoto decided not to play directly into Seidou's hands. Despite the momentum shift from Kumo's earlier run, the game's tempo was still in their control, and there was no need to rush.

"First pitch, low and outside. No need to go head-to-head; let's stick to our strengths."

Kanemoto subtly signaled his plan.

On the mound, Kumo furrowed his brows but complied with the catcher's call. His arm swung, left leg stepping forward. In the next moment, his right arm whipped forward.

Whoosh!

A blazing fastball streaked toward the batter's box, sharp and piercing.

Outside fastball!

The sudden gleam of white entered Shirasu's sightline.

His eyes quickly tracked the ball's trajectory.

Planting his foot firmly, he channeled all his strength into his swing. The bat cut through the air with a resounding whoosh.

The cold metallic shine of the bat reflected against the roaring pitch as the ball surged forward.

Two streaks of light overlapped.

As the ball sped through the air, it deftly avoided the bat in the strike zone, slipping past to land snugly in Kanemoto's mitt behind home plate with a crisp sound.

"Pop!"

"Strike!"

How could the angle be so sharp and precise? And was the speed slightly faster than before?

Shirasu frowned, gripping his bat tightly, his gaze flickering to the electronic scoreboard displaying a pitch speed of 144 km/h.

"They've changed their pitch sequence," Miyuki muttered softly on Seidou's bench, a glint of intrigue flashing in his eyes.

"And the pitch placement is exceptional. This pitcher..." Eijun, seated nearby, wore a serious expression.

Eijun began to realize a miscalculation on their part.

The assumption that this pitcher lacked control was, perhaps, only in comparison to the other three pitchers on Komadai Fujimaki High's team.

By ordinary high school standards, Komadai Fujimaki High's No. 2 pitcher, Kumo, had control far above average.

With his pitching style, taking him down in a short time wouldn't be an easy feat.

"Whoosh!"

"Ping!"

"Thud!"

"Foul ball!"

"The second pitch is also an outside fastball! A foul ball down the third-base line!"

Damn it.

Shirasu's brows furrowed even deeper.

The pitch locations were razor-sharp, making it tough to handle. Should he abandon the short-grip strategy?

He was caught in a dilemma.

But it was clear that Komadai Fujimaki High's battery wouldn't grant him much time to think.

"Third pitch—still outside—a breaking ball!" Kanemoto signaled decisively, as another streak of white light tore through the air.

"Whoosh!"

The swinging bat barely made contact with the ball.

"Ping!"

The ball ricocheted off the third-base foul line before bouncing out of play.

"Foul ball!"

Damn it!

Shirasu suddenly realized his attempt to increase precision at the plate had backfired.

This pitcher's strength was exceptional, making his approach self-destructive.

Unfortunately, Shirasu realized this a moment too late.

The three consecutive outside pitches left a lasting impression.

Taking advantage of this, Kumo decisively delivered his fourth pitch—an inside fastball.

The blazing streak of light made it impossible for Shirasu to respond promptly or correctly.

Or perhaps, the continuous stream of outside pitches had conditioned him, causing a momentary lapse in adapting to the inside ball.

"Whoosh!"

The blinding white light pierced through the air with ferocity.

"Pop!"

The ball landed squarely in the glove with a resounding snap, leaving Shirasu with a grim expression.

"Strike three! Batter out!"