Diamond No Ace: The Strongest Hitter

Chapter 176: Before the Game

Hearing Sendo's words, the two seniors were a little surprised.

"I didn't expect you to think like that."

"Do you think I'm like that idiot Eijun?" Sendo smirked.

"That guy simply loves baseball and doesn't think much beyond that. But all of you seniors came here with your own goals, didn't you? Whether it's becoming a professional player straight out of high school, getting into a prestigious university, or making it to Koshien, every dream depends on results—on making it to the First String.

"If there's no ambition, then studying baseball abroad would be meaningless—unless you're just here to hone your skills. That's why seizing every opportunity isn't wrong at all."

"So, what's your reason for coming here, Sendo? Judging by your attitude, it doesn't seem like any of the reasons you mentioned." Tanba asked curiously.

At this moment, Tanba seemed to have fully acknowledged his junior, no longer feeling the barrier of their age difference.

He regarded Sendo as a peer, someone he could chat with and share common ground.

"Because of Eijun."

"You mean that first-year? The one who struck out Azuma -senpai and threw a curveball during long throws on his first day?"

"Yep. Back in middle school, we promised to go to nationals with our teammates. I was planning to quit baseball after graduating, but during our final summer in third year, we played against the strongest team in our prefecture.

"Unfortunately, I got sick during the semifinals and couldn't play. The team suffered a crushing defeat, and that marked the end of our middle school journey.

"At that moment, I decided I would play baseball with Eijun for three more years in high school. My bat would swing for him… Is that a bit too dramatic?" Sendo scratched his head awkwardly.

"No, it's a touching story!"

"Thank you. I'm ready whenever you are, Tanba-senpai!"

"Hah! If anyone should be thanking someone, it's me!"

"Whoosh!" Tanba's pitching sound effects were unexpectedly amusing.

Pop!

"That's an incredible fastball!" Sendo marveled at the powerful pitch.

"Yeah, Tanba's been in great form recently! Next pitch—a curveball!" Miyauchi said, giving Tanba instructions while responding to Sendo.

"Here it comes—Tanba's signature move!"

Whoosh!

Pop!

Tanba's signature curveball.

Standing in the batter's box, it was an absolutely terrifying pitch.

To a right-handed batter, it appeared to be coming straight for their face before sharply curving into the strike zone at the last moment.

Yes, this curveball would land in the strike zone—a truly fearsome breaking ball.

Even Sendo, caught off guard, instinctively jerked his head back and took a step away.

However, unlike most first-years in practice games, he didn't lose his balance or retreat chaotically.

Still, Sendo couldn't help but wonder if Tanba aimed for the batter's face on purpose.

A pitch like that—even if you knew it was coming and could predict its trajectory—would make most batters hesitate to swing.

It triggered a natural instinct to dodge, and the risk of a mispitch hitting the batter's face was real.

Tanba's pitch velocity wasn't slow either, and a solid wooden ball hitting someone's face could cause serious injuries.

In the worst-case scenario, it might result in facial disfigurement.

That said, such a large curve angle only happened when Tanba was in peak condition.

Normally, his curveball was still intimidating but less extreme.

After seeing the pitch, Sendo felt like fetching a helmet.

"What a scary pitch. Honestly, I'm so glad I'm a left-handed batter… For a moment, I thought it was going to hit my face!" Sendo joked with Miyauchi.

"You're just scared because it's your first time seeing it! Once you get used to it, I doubt it'll faze you," Miyauchi said, poking fun at Sendo for trying to hide his own nerves.

"Still, calling it a magic pitch isn't an exaggeration. The curve is so big that even if a batter doesn't flinch, it's not easy to hit!" Sendo admitted.

"By the way, Tanba-senpai, where were you aiming that curveball?" Sendo asked curiously.

"Uh…" Tanba hesitated.

"No way…" Sendo whispered, swallowing hard.

Miyauchi, overhearing the comment, felt a chill.

To be honest, no one at Seidou had ever thought about where Tanba aimed his curveball.

They just knew it was incredible.

"Tanba-senpai… were you aiming for my face?" Sendo finally voiced his suspicion.

"Well… not directly at your face," Tanba admitted sheepishly.

Confirmed.

Sendo couldn't help but admire those right-handed batters who had faced Tanba's curveball head-on.

How did they deal with the risk of a mispitch?

Then again, with helmets on, slower batters or first-timers—like the first-years they'd play tomorrow—would instinctively dodge.

For high school batters, getting hit on the helmet was just a painful inconvenience, not a serious injury.

Still, it was all in Sendo's imagination; Tanba had never actually hit anyone with his curveball.

In the end, it was a matter of mental pressure, and overcoming it was no easy feat for a high school player.

Nowadays, with advanced scouting and strategies, top teams likely prepared themselves mentally before facing Tanba.

In the past, Tanba's shaky mindset would sometimes turn his curveball into an easy-to-hit pitch.

If not for that, Tanba could be an exceptionally troublesome pitcher.

Even with his hiatus, Tanba managed to hold down Inashiro's batting lineup for at least one round through sheer determination.

If his fastball had no issues and his curveball was at its peak, combined with mastering a splitter and focusing on his fastball, Tanba would be a nightmare for any batter.

"That curveball… if paired with a catcher who knows how to use it to intimidate batters…" Sendo's thoughts trailed off as he pictured the possibilities.

The scenario Sendo imagined was almost too wicked to be real.

Even in actual games, Miyuki, despite his mischievous tendencies, wouldn't resort to such psychological tactics.

Miyuki, in his own way, was an honest player, focused on fair competition, and wouldn't use intimidation to unsettle batters.

Even when throwing inside pitches, he didn't aim to actually hit anyone.

If Sendo were the catcher, he would first call for a high inside ball to force the batter back, then follow up with the curveball to intimidate them.

It wasn't about hitting the batter but using psychological warfare—an admittedly ruthless tactic.

However, Sendo would never intentionally harm someone without reason.

This kind of strategy, though effective, could be seen as extreme.

In Major League games, it might even trigger a bench-clearing brawl.

This highlighted a key difference between Sendo and Miyuki: while their personalities were similar, their approaches were distinct.

Sendo, at times, could be downright merciless.

When angered or driven by some obsession, Sendo's actions could become dangerously extreme.

While he was gentle by nature, that gentleness depended on the person.

For instance, if Sawamura were in a situation where he hesitated after hitting a batter, the next batter might crowd the plate, and Sawamura would hold back, afraid of hurting someone.

Sendo, in the same scenario, would likely throw a fierce inside pitch to force the batter to back off—without actually hitting them but giving them the impression he might.

It was about establishing dominance, ensuring the batter retreated first.

This psychological battle was something Sendo excelled at.

While the batter might intend to lean in to get hit and take a base, a well-placed inside pitch would force their instincts to kick in and dodge.

Batter behavior like this was, in Sendo's eyes, overly aggressive, bordering on unfair.

For now, though, these thoughts remained in Sendo's head.

Miyauchi, on the other hand, was feeling a bit unnerved, while Tanba scratched his face awkwardly with his index finger.

"It's fine! Tanba-senpai has never actually hit anyone with his pitches, right? It's all in our heads, scaring ourselves," Sendo said, trying to ease the tension.

"That's true. When Tanba's off his game, his curveball turns into a weak, easy-to-hit fastball," Miyauchi teased, exposing Tanba's flaws.

"Miyauchi!" Tanba shot back, slightly annoyed at his teammate's bluntness.

This playful exchange helped ease the atmosphere, and Sendo and Tanba's relationship became much more amicable.

With the ice broken, the practice session became more relaxed.

Tanba was in excellent form, and Sendo, still adapting to high school baseball, admitted to himself that if someone like Miyuki were guiding Tanba, he'd be nearly impossible to deal with.

Interestingly, if Miyuki knew what Sendo was thinking, he'd probably reply, "You're just as much of a monster, Sendo! It's just as troublesome trying to pitch against you!"

Sendo's batting style, where he swung at any fastball he felt he could hit regardless of the pitch's location, was the type Miyuki disliked the most.

It left no clear strategy to counter him.

Throwing breaking balls exclusively might work, but it would heavily strain the pitcher, making them vulnerable in the late innings.

In the current era, where reliable relief pitchers were scarce, losing an ace due to exhaustion could be disastrous.

Sendo understood his own style well and decided to avoid breaking balls until he fully adapted to high school-level play.

This approach made him a challenge for any pitcher.

Coupled with his knack for fouling off pitches, he was even more frustrating to face.

However, Sendo disliked using his ability to foul off pitches excessively, as it disrupted his rhythm with fastballs.

He preferred to focus on clean, decisive swings.

Everyone at Seidou knew that once Sendo fully adjusted to the high school game, he would undergo a significant leap in skill.

What level he could reach, however, remained a mystery.

The three continued their training while chatting, and time flew by. At 10:30 PM, they headed back to the dorms, mindful of the upcoming game for the seniors.

Sendo, who didn't have a game, had plenty of free time and decided to film a "documentary" of Sawamura's match the next day.

...

On Sunday morning, the seniors left the dorms early to change, warm up, and get into the game mindset.

Sendo, on the other hand, didn't need to arrive until the game began.

After waking up, he even debated what to wear.

He considered wearing casual clothes, as it was his day off.

However, fearing that the "Sunglasses Uncle" might catch him slacking, he ultimately decided to wear cleats and training clothes.

He also brought a folding chair to avoid dirtying his uniform unnecessarily.

Meanwhile, two hours earlier, Jun, who was lifting weights, had been grumbling about Sendo.

"That bastard Sendo disappears the moment he gets a day off. He doesn't even come for self-practice! Next time, I won't lend him any shoujo manga… though I probably will."

By the time Sendo arrived at the field, the game was about to start.

Players were already warming up, and while he didn't see Miyuki, the stands were packed with spectators, reporters, and OBs (old boys).

Although filming wasn't allowed, many OBs greeted Sendo warmly—he was quite popular.

A quick glance at the teams revealed a stark contrast: the second- and third-years looked ready to devour their opponents, while the first-years resembled frightened hens.

It was clear they hadn't grasped the significance of the game.

This wasn't surprising.

Middle school games prioritized results but often relied on luck due to pitch count restrictions.

The level of competition in high school, especially for First String spots, was far more intense.

"Yo!" Sendo greeted Sawamura, who was by the sidelines.

"You're so slow! The game's about to start!" Sawamura complained, oblivious to the fact that many First String starters were resting for this game.

"It hasn't started yet," Sendo replied casually.

After arriving, he set up his folding chair near the bullpen and sat down, while Sawamura continued warming up.

The two were so familiar with each other that they didn't need to talk much, and there was no awkwardness in the silence.

At that moment, Coach Kataoka entered the field, carrying the umpire's protective gear, signaling that the game was about to begin.

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