Mash-Up: I'm Not A Substitute

"Don't be stupid!"

Takashi stepped forward, leaned in, and with a whip-like motion of his long arm, launched the ball again.

"Beep—162 km/h, strike! Batter out!"

"Switch sides!"

The fighting spirit Chukyo had finally reignited was mercilessly doused again by Takashi.

'That inning ended too fast…'

Furusu Ryota panted heavily, despair settling in.

'Even if we defend with everything we've got, how are we supposed to score against Takashi!?'

Shiyo Koya stared at the boy on the pitcher's mound, his eyes full of hopelessness.

His frame looked so thin, swaying slightly, yet as long as he stood there, he seemed utterly invincible.

"Tenth inning already…"

A girl in Chukyo's cheering section was on the verge of tears.

"Please, just step down…"

A male student from Chukyo started begging.

He was genuinely terrified.

Since the match with Takashi began, their fourth batter hadn't even had a chance.

"Why won't you just go down already?"

Someone started cursing.

"That guy's a maniac. He's absolutely insane."

Fear began to spread.

…

On the field, the eight defenders high-fived and followed Takashi off together.

In the bullpen, Aoba's lead-off hitter stood up, dragging a bat and preparing to step onto the field despite his exhaustion.

"Senpai."

Takashi suddenly called out.

"What is it?"

Noda Yusei stopped mid-step and turned to look at him.

"Don't hesitate. Don't hold back. Swing with all you've got."

Takashi reached out his left fist toward Noda Yusei. "I've got your back."

Looking at Takashi's outstretched fist, Noda Yusei's heart immediately steadied.

Everyone knew how incredible Takashi was as a pitcher.

As long as he was in the dugout, no one panicked.

He simply had that kind of presence.

"I got it."

Noda Yusei bumped fists firmly with Takashi and stepped onto the field once again.

"Aoba, let's win!!!"

"Chukyo, don't give up!!"

As the players took the field, both schools' cheering squads erupted in shouts, trying to drown each other out in sheer momentum.

Even though many had shouted themselves hoarse, they didn't care about the pain—only about roaring louder.

The spectators stared intently, their hearts already set ablaze.

Everyone knew—at this stage, neither side would yield.

Whether they'd return in glory or carry a lifetime of regret—would be decided right here.

Aoba's leadoff batter: Noda Yusei.

Kabe Keita looked at the opponent before him, sensing the intense fighting spirit radiating from him.

He hadn't been like this just a moment ago.

What had Takashi told him?

Noda Yusei gripped his bat, staring firmly at Kabe Keita on the pitcher's mound.

Having experienced despair and now grasping hope—whether they could win and dominate the nation—now it was up to them.

Kabe Keita lifted his leg, swung his arm, and flicked the ball with a subtle twist of his fingers.

Noda Yusei swung without hesitation.

"Beep—149 km/h, strike one!"

The ball had an imperceptible drop during flight, and the leadoff batter missed.

'Too slow.'

Even though Noda Yusei hadn't connected, he could clearly tell the ball's speed wasn't as overwhelming as before.

'Looks like our ace got to him.'

Noda Yusei could roughly guess what was going through Kabe Keita's mind.

If you lose, the team loses. When the entire weight of a team is placed on one person, that kind of invisible pressure can break anyone.

Most importantly, Takashi had been applying constant pressure.

That pressure didn't come from the audience—it came from Takashi's pitching.

One run, and they'd lose. Takashi had kept the opponents under that crushing weight the whole game.

In other words, by this point, even Chukyo's own players probably didn't believe they could score off Takashi.

They just wished he'd step down soon.

A terrifying thought.

It meant Chukyo's focus was no longer on the field.

"Beep—149 km/h, strike two!"

Swing. Miss!

Noda Yusei took a deep breath.

He focused all his attention on the third pitch.

"Beep—147 km/h!"

Even in the bottom of the ninth, still pitching at 147 km/h—Chukyo's pitcher really was strong.

But—

Crack!

"He hit it!!"

Suzuki Ichiro jumped from his seat and shouted.

The ball flew toward the far left outfield.

Noda Yusei didn't care about anything else. He let go of the bat, which clattered to the ground, and sprinted toward first base with his head down.

"Chukyo's left outfielder is going for the catch—oh my god, he fumbled it!"

"Chukyo's defense made a mistake!"

"Noda's going for second base after passing first—how bold!"

"Ah!"

Chukyo's left fielder saw this and hurled the ball to second base with all his strength.

"Ah!"

Noda Yusei also roared, diving headfirst toward second.

The second baseman for Chukyo caught the ball. Just as he let out a sigh of relief, the umpire suddenly shouted, "Safe!"

"Wha—"

The second baseman looked down and realized that in order to catch the ball, his foot had unknowingly drifted 1 cm away from the base.

"Yes!!!"

The Aoba students erupted in cheers.

Noda Yusei climbed up from the ground and immediately took position, eyes locked on third base.

His heart was pounding wildly.

Just a little more, a second later—if he'd slacked off even a day in practice—he might've been out.

Seeing this, Takashi finally closed his eyes in relief.

He didn't have to get back on the mound anymore.

Not only was Kabe Keita's mentality collapsing, the entire Chukyo team was unraveling.

"It's time to end this game."

Takashi said quietly.

"Yes!"

Katsuta Musashi and the others cracked their knuckles, eager to fight. Their eyes locked onto Chukyo's players like predators eyeing helpless prey.

"It's over…"

The Chukyo coach knew he was finished too. He shut his eyes in despair.

"Runner on second, Noda Yusei, starts stealing third."

Suzuki Ichiro continued the play-by-play.

Chukyo's first baseman shouted toward the infield, "Throw it to me! Direct to me!"

"Alright—ah, it's short!"

"No outs, runners on first and third—another defensive error from Chukyo!"

"Aoba's third batter—Katsuta Musashi!"

Katsuta Musashi stepped up, flashed a sinister grin in his batting stance, and said, "I'm sending you all home!"

Just as Kabe Keita got into his pitching stance, both the third and first base runners took off in a double steal.

'What now? Fastball? Or ignore them?'

'But if they make it to home, we lose.'

'But if I throw it too squarely, it'll be a home run.'

Kabe Keita was caught in a firestorm with no time to think—if he didn't pitch soon, Noda Yusei would reach home and score.

He had no choice but to bet on Katsuta Musashi missing the swing.

Crack!

Unfortunately, the crisp crack of the bat shattered Kabe Keita's hopes. He looked back just in time to see the white ball soaring past the right fielder—clean hit.

Game over.

"Congratulations to Aoba for advancing to the finals! Next up—Aoba versus Advanced Nurturing High School!"

"Which school will stand at the pinnacle?"

"Let's wait and see!"

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