The sharp "ping" of the baseball bat echoed across the field. It was a sound Kaito Suzuki had heard countless times, but today, it felt different. As a substitute pitcher, Kaito sat on the bench, watching his teammates struggle. Tonoko Middle School was losing to their rival, 4-2. It was late in the game, and there was no time left to waste.
The game had started with high hopes, but now it seemed like their dreams of advancing in the tournament were slipping away. Kaito knew it wasn't his time yet; he wasn't the ace. That title belonged to Tanaka, who had been leading the team up until now. But Tanaka's body language said it all: he was cracking. The pressure had taken its toll, and his mentality was collapsing. Kaito didn't know if he could handle the situation, but there was one thing he did know for sure—he had to stay calm.
And then, it happened.
"Kaito," Coach's voice was firm as he called out from the dugout, "Tanaka's done. You're up."
Kaito stood up from the bench, feeling the weight of the game pressing down on him. His legs felt heavy as he jogged to the mound. His first pitch would define everything.
As he took the ball in his glove, Kaito glanced at the scoreboard. 4-2. They were still in it, but its already seventh inning and every pitch counted now. His grip tightened around the baseball, and he took a deep breath. The first batter stepped up to the plate, and Kaito knew this wasn't going to be easy.
Kaito's first pitch came in too high. Ball one. He immediately cursed under his breath. His control was always a struggle, and now was no time for mistakes. He couldn't let it shake him, though. He had to focus.
The second pitch was a fastball, but it sailed wide again. Ball two. The batter smirked, stepping out of the box and tapping his cleats on the dirt. Kaito looked to the dugout, where his teammates were shouting words of encouragement. Their faith in him was all he needed to shake off the mistakes and stay steady.
"Let's go, Kaito!" Tetsuo, the catcher, called out. "You've got this!"
Kaito nodded and refocused. He pitched again, a fastball down the middle, but the batter swung and missed. Strike one.
The next pitch was an outside fastball barely on strikezone. Strike two. Kaito exhaled, a feeling of relief flooding over him. One more pitch and he could get momentum on this inning.
The final pitch was another fastball, a little inside. The batter swung but missed. Strike three, Batter out. One down.
The next batter stepped up, a lanky left-hander. Kaito glanced at the scoreboard again—still 4-2. He needed two more outs. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his cool. He threw low and away, but the batter hit it, sending a sharp line drive to the center fielder. The center fielder dove, made a clean catch, and got to his feet with the ball in hand. Two outs.
The final batter of the inning stepped in. He was bigger, taller, and his bat looked menacing. Kaito's grip tightened on the ball as he went into his windup. He threw a fastball that came in a little too high. Ball one.
"Just keep it in the zone," Kaito whispered to himself.
The second pitch was an outside ball, but the batter made contact. It wasn't a clean hit, but it was enough to force a grounder to shortstop. The shortstop scooped the ball, quickly pivoted, and made a perfect throw to second base. The shortstop's throw was on target, three outs.
No runs scored.
Kaito jogged back to the dugout, feeling a surge of relief. He'd done his part, and the team seemed to rally around him, their spirits lifting a little. But it wasn't over yet. The game wasn't in the bag, and they still had work to do.
Then came the shock.
The opposing coach stood up and pointed to the bullpen. Their ace was warming up. The moment the other team called in their ace pitcher, Kaito's heart sank. He had seen the way that ace pitched before, Sato Inoha the star of their Nagano prefecture. He lead this average Chuba Middle School into national competition last year.
Kaito watched, almost in awe, as the ace took the mound and fired a fastball that nearly broke the 140kph barrier. The first batter for Tonoko stepped in, but it was clear he had no idea how to handle the pitch. The batter swung and missed. Strike one. The second pitch was a fastball that seemed to move a bit in mid-air. Strike two. The batter didn't even have time to blink before the third pitch was upon him. Strike three.
The next batter wasn't any better. The ace's fastball blew past him, and the batter's reaction was slow and hesitant. Strike three. The inning was over before Tonoko could even register what had happened. Kaito couldn't help but watch with wide eyes, impressed by the opponent's flawless pitching. Sato had control of the game now, and there was no stopping him.
Tonoko went into the eighth inning trailing. Kaito stepped back onto the mound, determined to hold the line. The first batter of the inning hit a grounder to the shortstop, who made the throw to first for the first out.
But then, the next batter hit a single to left field. Kaito clenched his jaw. He couldn't afford any more mistakes. His fastball was up, and the batter made him pay.
The next batter came up, and after a few exchanges, Kaito gave up another run. 5-2. His body felt heavy, and his thoughts were clouded. But there was no time for self-doubt. He had to finish the inning.
Kaito adjusted his grip on the ball and focused. He threw an inside fastball, and the batter grounded it straight to the shortstop again. The throw to second was perfect, and Tonoko had turned it into double play. Three outs.
In the ninth inning, the first pitch to the batter was a fastball at 120 kph. The batter was the opposing cleanup and he swung hard, sending the ball sailing over the fence. A home run. Kaito stood there, watching the ball fly. It felt like the end of everything.
But then he chose not to give up. After looking at his teammates, he managed to regain his focus, finishing the inning with no more runs conceded. He had done his best, but the damage was done.
The game ended 7-2. The opposing pitcher had dominated, and Tonoko's hopes of advancing had disappeared. Kaito sat on the bench, his head hanging low. His middle school career was over.
Later that night, Kaito sat at the dinner table with his parents. His father, a lifelong baseball fanatic, was staring at him, waiting for the words he had already prepared.
"Kaito, are you sure about this?" his father asked, his voice serious but not angry.
Kaito sighed and set his fork down. "Yeah, I think I'm done with baseball. I'm going to focus on my studies in high school."
His father was quiet for a moment before nodding. "If that's what you want."
Kaito smiled slightly. "I've already been accepted to Ichibu High. It's a great school, and I think it's time for me to focus on my future."
His father leaned back in his chair, the quiet understanding between them thickening the air. "Ichibu, huh? You'll do well there."
Kaito stood up, excusing himself. He walked to his room, a strange sense of finality in the air.