Nehimon Seimei's ace, stood tall, preparing to face Minatogawa's star pitcher, Hiroshi Aoki. It was the bottom of the first inning, two outs already on the board, and the third batter for Minatogawa was none other than Aoki himself, the prodigious ace who was just as known for his hitting as he was for his dominance on the mound.
Ryoichi adjusted his cap, the brim casting a shadow over his intense gaze. His fingers tightened around the seams of the ball, feeling the texture beneath his skin. The crowd was a blur of noise—chants, cheers, and shouts—but Ryoichi blocked it all out. His focus was razor-sharp. He knew who he was facing, and he welcomed the challenge.
Aoki stepped up to the plate, his expression calm, but inwardly his mind was racing. He twirled his bat slowly, taking a deep breath as he planted his feet in the batter's box. He had seen Ryoichi's fastball—it was raw power, nothing like what most high school pitchers could muster. But this wasn't just a contest of strength. It was a battle of aces.
"This guy's good," Aoki thought, tightening his grip on the bat. "But let's see if you've got more than just heat."
Ryoichi received the signal from Daiki, his catcher, who had called for a high fastball. Daiki's mitt was steady, positioned near his chest, a deliberate location to make Aoki feel cornered. Ryoichi nodded, winding up with a powerful motion, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to explode. He released the ball with a snap, and it screamed toward the plate at 158 km/h.
The crowd was instantly on their feet, the velocity of the pitch something to behold.
Aoki didn't flinch as the fastball whizzed past him, barely missing the upper inside corner of the strike zone. Strike one. The umpire's call was drowned out by the cheers that followed.
Aoki narrowed his eyes, stepping out of the box for a brief moment. "Sheesh he's coming right at me."
He stepped back into the box, adjusting his stance. He wasn't rattled—not yet. But he could feel Ryoichi's energy radiating from the mound. It was intense, almost suffocating. Aoki twirled the bat once more, his heartbeat steady. He had seen fast pitchers before, but none had the same control at that speed.
Daiki crouched behind the plate again, signaling for another fastball. He knew Ryoichi wanted to make a statement here—no fancy tricks, just raw power. Ryoichi nodded, winding up once more. The ball left his hand like a missile, aimed right down the heart of the plate.
Aoki swung, the crack of the bat cutting through the roar of the crowd, but it was too late. The ball sliced through the air at 159km/h, too fast for him to catch up. Strike two.
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The crowd erupted, fans from Nehimon Seimei shouting Ryoichi's name, the cheers growing louder and louder with each strike.
From the stands, a man in his forties wearing a baseball cap turned to his friend, eyes wide with astonishment. "That's 159 km/h? Did you see how fast that was?"
His friend nodded, equally amazed. "This kid's a monster! That's faster than some pro pitchers!"
But on the field, Aoki remained calm, even as his mind raced. "That's it, throw with everything you've got and get tired you monster."
Ryoichi's breathing was steady as he stood on the mound, his eyes locked on Daiki's mitt. Two strikes. One more and he'd shut down Minatogawa's star ace in the first inning. But something gnawed at him.
Daiki signaled for another fastball, but Ryoichi shook his head.
He gripped the ball differently, fingers digging into the seams as he prepared to throw. Aoki was expecting another fastball.
Aoki settled into his stance, his bat resting lightly on his shoulder. He was ready for another fastball. "Come on, throw it," Aoki thought, his heart rate quickening. "I know you won't throw anything else."
Ryoichi wound up, the familiar rush of adrenaline flooding his veins. His motion was fluid, effortless, but as he released the ball, something was different. The ball exploded out of his hand, just as fast as before, but this time, it wasn't a straight line.
Aoki's eyes widened as the ball shot toward him. He started his swing, expecting another fastball, but just as his bat came through the zone, the ball sank. It dropped with a sharp break, diving under the barrel of his bat.
"What the—?!" Aoki's mind screamed as the pitch dropped. His swing came up empty, the ball thudding into Daiki's glove with a satisfying snap. Strike three.
The stadium went berserk.
The sound was deafening—fans on their feet, screaming, cheering, shouting. Nehimon Seimei's dugout erupted in celebration, players pounding the railings, their fists in the air. Kenji, allowed a small grin to stretch across his face. This was Ryoichi's game, and he was making sure everyone knew it.
From the stands, a man couldn't believe his eyes. "Seriously, it sank! At that speed!"
His friend shook his head in disbelief. "He's a freak of nature!"
But on the field, Aoki stood there, momentarily stunned. His mind raced, trying to comprehend what had just happened. It sank. "It sank?!" He had faced fast pitchers before—had hit home runs off them—but this... this was something else entirely.
Ryoichi stood tall on the mound, his face calm, but inside, he was on fire. He had silenced Minatogawa's ace. He had sent a message to the entire stadium. His teammates swarmed him as he walked back to the dugout, Daiki grinning ear to ear as he patted Ryoichi on the back.
"That's the stuff, Ryoichi!" Daiki shouted.
Kenji jogged over from center field, his usual serious demeanor slightly broken by the smirk on his face. "About time you stopped messing around," he said, slapping Ryoichi on the shoulder. "Keep this up, and you might have a chance with my sister!"
Ryoichi laughed, "Hey! I'm not a kid anymore" but his focus was already shifting back to the game. This was just the first inning. There was still a long way to go. But he had made his mark, and Aoki, the ace of Minatogawa, now knew that this wasn't just another game. This was a war, and Ryoichi had just fired the first shot.
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As Ryoichi sat down in the dugout, the crowd still buzzing with excitement, he stole a glance at the Minatogawa side. Aoki had returned to their bench, and though his expression was as stoic as ever, Ryoichi could sense the frustration behind his eyes.
He wasn't expecting that, Ryoichi thought, a small sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest. "Good. Let him stew on it."
Shinjiro, who had been watching from left field, sat down next to Ryoichi, his eyes wide with admiration.
Ryoichi shrugged, wiping the sweat from his brow. "What? want an autograph??" he said casually, though inwardly, he was proud of how well it had worked. Shinjiro shook his head, still amazed.
Kenji, overhearing their conversation, chuckled softly. "Let's not get too comfortable. This is Aoki we're talking about. He's going to come back harder. Be ready."