Diamond no Ace: Coach, I Want to Be a Batter, Not a Pitcher!

”Wow! Two consecutive Cutters again!” Azuma Kiyokuni exclaimed in surprise.

”Yeah. The pitches Ushijima can throw are incredibly deceptive.”

”The Two-Seam, Cutter, Sinker, and Shootball all belong to the fastball family.”

”Until the ball reaches home plate, they look almost identical to a normal fastball.”

”Even when you recognize it as a fastball at first, by the time you swing, it has already turned into something else. And even if you’re mentally prepared for movement, you still have to guess which pitch it is because each one breaks differently at the end,” Uesugi explained to the people around him.

”Honestly, that kind of pitching is even more exhausting for a batter than a simple mix of fastballs and breaking balls,” Nitta added. As a power hitter himself, he understood how difficult it was to deal with.

”The Four-Seam, Two-Seam, Cutter, Sinker, and Shootball can cover almost every corner of the strike zone.”

”Only a few locations remain uncovered,” Uesugi said quietly.

”That kid can throw a Forkball too. If he wants to, he can attack those spots as well.”

”Tch...”

Uesugi immediately felt a headache coming on.

On the field, Ushijima Wakatoshi watched Shirakawa with a faint smile. The latter’s expression was growing increasingly tense.

Just two days ago, Shirakawa had confidently told Miyuki:

”You’ll regret not joining us. You’ll regret it ten years from now, twenty years from now... maybe for the rest of your life.”

Back then, Shirakawa had been overflowing with arrogance.

Much of that confidence came from standing beside Narumiya Mei.

And today, Ushijima fully intended to make him pay for it.

Will the next pitch be a Cutter? Or a Two-Seam?

Shirakawa found himself hesitating more and more.

Seizing the moment, Miyuki Kazuya hid his hand behind his glove and flashed a sign.

The moment Ushijima saw it, a smile appeared on his face.

If that’s what you want... then let’s do it.

He delivered his third pitch.

Whoosh!

The baseball exploded out of his hand.

This pitch was noticeably faster than the previous two.

So fast!

Shirakawa’s eyes widened.

With two strikes already against him, he couldn’t afford to watch this one go by.

And because of the speed, he didn’t even have time to identify the pitch type.

At that point, all he could do was trust his instincts.

Whoosh!

He swung with all his strength.

But the instant the bat came through the zone, he realized something was wrong.

The baseball suddenly cut sharply toward the outside corner.

Before it even reached home plate, it had already begun breaking away.

Because of its velocity, the movement looked even more vicious.

The ball dropped and darted away, ending just outside the strike zone.

Yet Shirakawa’s swing had already committed.

C-Cutter!

Damn it!

His frustration boiled over.

Smack!

Miyuki cleanly caught the Cutter traveling at nearly 150 km/h.

Even though the pitch finished just off the plate, Shirakawa had offered at it.

Which meant only one thing.

”Strike three! Batter out!”

The umpire’s call hit Shirakawa like a slap across the face.

Standing in the batter’s box, he glared furiously at Miyuki crouching behind the plate.

Again.

And again.

And again.

It had been like this ever since their days in youth baseball.

Back then, Miyuki had struck him out with three pitches on the inside corner.

Three years later, he had already struck out twice against Ushijima’s arsenal.

And now, Miyuki had called for three consecutive Cutters and sent him back to the dugout once more.

It was a complete humiliation.

A blatant challenge.

The crowd erupted.

”Three straight Cutters for the strikeout!”

”That’s brutal.”

”Ushijima is way too strong!”

”Three consecutive Cutters against Shirakawa!”

”What a pitch!”

The Seidou players cheered enthusiastically from the dugout.

Meanwhile, Ushijima looked at the struck-out Shirakawa with a faint sneer.

See? That’s what happens when you’re too full of yourself.

Shirakawa’s face twisted with anger.

Carlos couldn’t help being stunned.

Seriously?

In the first inning, Ushijima had struck him out with three consecutive Two-Seamers.

Now, in the fourth inning, Shirakawa had gone down on three straight Cutters.

These two weren’t a golden battery.

They were a nightmare battery.

A pair of ruthless partners who specialized in tormenting hitters.

”If we got one, let’s get the next one too,” Miyuki said as he stood up.

At that moment, Inashiro’s third batter stepped into the box.

Ushijima rested his hands on his knees and began considering his next approach.

Pitching wasn’t simply about throwing hard.

It required constant thought.

Although he possessed a wide variety of pitches and could throw them all effectively, that didn’t mean he could become careless.

One mistake was enough to change the entire game.

Baseball was that kind of sport.

A single swing could completely alter the momentum.

Ushijima understood that better than anyone.

No matter how many pitches he had, he always approached the mound with caution.

Miyuki clapped his glove.

Then he gave the sign.

Finally, he set his target on the inside corner.

On the mound, Ushijima stood calmly with the ball hidden behind his back.

At the same time, Kuramochi flashed a defensive signal.

Kuramochi shifted toward the hole between second and third, while Kominato adjusted his position near second base.

The infield immediately understood the plan.

Once everything was set, Ushijima began his pitching motion.

But the instant he moved, Carlos broke from first.

”He’s stealing!” Yuki Tetsuya shouted.

”Tch. They picked their timing well,” Miyuki muttered.

Ignoring the runner, Ushijima completed his delivery.

The batter, Yoshizawa, watched carefully from the box.

At first glance, the pitch looked like a fastball.

He held his swing.

Then, just before reaching the plate, the ball suddenly sank toward the inside corner.

A Sinker?

Yoshizawa was startled.

He had originally guessed Two-Seam Fastball.

If he had swung...

Even if he made contact, he likely would have pounded it straight into the ground for an easy double play.

”Strike!”

The home plate umpire raised his hand.

”Safe!”

Almost simultaneously, the second-base umpire signaled Carlos safe on his stolen-base attempt.

That was close...

Yoshizawa quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Fortunately, he hadn’t offered at the pitch.