Yang gasped, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. For a split second, time itself seemed to slow, each moment stretching into an eternity.
Then a thunderous roar erupted, shaking the very foundations of the stadium.
"Go—GOAL!"
His steps faltered. Slowed. The atmosphere of the stadium transformed around him—a living, breathing entity of sound and fury.
But the audible roar muffled as it reached his ears, like distant cheers carried across a vast ocean. He didn't stop. Not entirely. But his movements became mechanical—lifeless, as a walking corpse dragged forward by momentum alone.
His gaze remained fixed on Hiro.
The sheer brilliance of what he had just witnessed left a lasting impression—a scar etched into his consciousness. Though the moment had passed, he couldn't shake the raw, unfiltered emotions that had consumed him.
The dribbles. The feints. The ability to read the game and that shot that shattered the hopes of their supporters.
