"Game over, 6–0!"
Total match time: 8 minutes and 53 seconds.
"Gulp..."
The entire stadium fell into stunned silence.
Under the crowd's gaze, QP stepped off the court.
"Final score... 3–1. Seigaku wins!"
As the referee's whistle blew, the audience snapped out of their shock.
"They won! Seigaku won!"
"Yoru is amazing! QP is amazing!"
"My husbands are so handsome~"
"Shameless! Who's your husband? 'Husbands'? Have some dignity!"
Of course, it was the girls who erupted into cheers first.
QP walked off the court and noticed Yoru squinting ahead, his smirk harder to suppress than an AK-47's recoil.
QP tilted his head. "Why are you so happy after winning a match at this level?"
"What match?"
"Hm?"
A familiar feeling crept into QP's heart. Following Yoru's gaze, he wasn't surprised—
A group of beautiful high school girls in cute uniforms were playfully shoving each other, some even accidentally flashing a little.
Yoru muttered under his breath: "Being handsome really has its perks..."
He thought back to his past life's appearance.
Back then, not only would girls never fight over him, but even glancing at an old lady on the street would earn him a "Disgusting. I'm calling the cops."
He wasn't ugly, but he was far from handsome.
Average-looking guys never realize just how bold and crazy girls can be.
Now, he finally understood.
Luckily, aside from QP, none of the club members noticed what Yoru was staring at—otherwise, his image would've taken a nosedive.
They were too busy celebrating.
"We won! We beat Rikkai Dai and ended their 13-year reign!"
"This feels like a dream!"
"We're really going to Nationals!"
"When the captain said he'd take us to win Nationals, I thought it was impossible... but now it might actually happen!"
"Long live the captain!"
Kawasaki and the others screamed at the top of their lungs, eyes bloodshot with emotion.
---
"Rikkai Dai's 13-year dynasty has been broken."
Hyōtei's coach, Sukōjiro, wore an expression of envy.
This was the glory he had once dreamed of bringing to Hyōtei.
No one expected that the team to finally dethrone Rikkai Dai would be Seigaku—a school that couldn't even clear the prefecturals last year.
Players and coaches from other schools watched with admiration.
"A new king has risen. The era is changing."
Yamabuki's coach, Mikitaka, slowly smiled.
Though Yoru wasn't the most likable kid, there was no denying that Seigaku flourished under his leadership.
In all his years of coaching, he'd seen countless geniuses and witnessed the fall of many legends.
But Seigaku winning the Kanto Championship?
That was a first in history—something not even Echizen Nanjirō had accomplished.
Yoru was already making history.
---
While the atmosphere around them was electric, Rikkai Dai's side was eerily quiet.
Mitsudō and the others stared blankly at the scoreboard, lost in thought.
After a long silence, Akiba Kōyō patted Mitsudō's shoulder.
"You did well, Akutsu."
Nothing cuts deeper than unexpected comfort.
The guilt bottled up inside Mitsudō burst out—his glasses fogged up as tears streamed down his face.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, everyone... WAAAAH—!!"
He cried loudly, and the Rikkai Dai team quickly huddled around him.
At the end of the day, Mitsudō was just a second-year. They were all his seniors.
Placing the entire burden on the captain was a mistake from the start.
Looking back, the match was lost the moment Seigaku swapped their doubles lineup.
Mitsudō's strategy wasn't flawed—it was just seen through. In tactical battles, one misstep means total defeat.
---
Post-match formalities.
The referee signaled for both teams to gather at the net.
"The Kanto Tournament has concluded. Players, please exchange handshakes!"
The whistle blew, and the noise died down.
Led by their captains, both teams met at the center.
"Congratulations."
Even behind his glasses, it was clear Mitsudō's eyes were swollen.
Ending the 13-year dynasty under his leadership—that kind of pressure would crush even an adult.
Yoru shook his hand and said:
"Mitsudō-senpai, you're a second-year, right?"
"...Yes."
"Then stop crying. What's there to cry about? You'll get used to it next year."
Yoru's face was dead serious.
"..."
Mitsudō's eye twitched—he almost coughed up blood.
Yoru continued, "Actually, you might not even have to wait until next year. There's still Nationals. Plenty of time to cry then."
"Do you always talk like this? It's lacking in sportsmanship."
"Annoyed?"
Yoru chuckled as he let go of his hand.
"Yeah, it's not very sportsmanlike. But you're breathing easier now, aren't you?"
Mitsudō froze.
He couldn't deny it—those two provocations had actually lightened the guilt in his chest.
The boulder crushing his heart had shifted—not gone, but moved elsewhere.
This kind of comfort was unconventional, but it worked for him.
Like how the fastest way to get over a breakup is to find someone new.
The weight of the 13-year legacy was being eased in its own way.
"...Thank you."
As the handshake ended, Yoru led his team away, waving without looking back.
"Looking forward to our next match."
---
Award Ceremony
The organizers worked quickly—within 30 minutes, the Kanto Championship awards were ready.
First up: Hyōtei (3rd Place).
Their 3rd-place match had been a 3–0 sweep the day before.
Led by Mōri Kōshirō, Hyōtei stepped onto the podium.
Holding the familiar bronze medal, a sense of powerlessness washed over him.
Last year, they'd lost to Yamabuki in the semifinals.
This year, they beat Yamabuki—but still fell in the semis. Another bronze.
Next year, as a high schooler, he'd never get another shot at the Kanto gold.
Regret gives life its texture.
---
Next: Rikkai Dai (2nd Place).
When the committee handed them the silver medals, Mitsudō and the others stared blankly.
Twelve years.
Twelve straight championships—ended by their hands.
As captain, Mitsudō's heart ached. But thanks to Yoru's words earlier, he didn't break down again.
The crowd watched with mixed emotions.
Many were Rikkai Dai fans—they never expected an unknown team like Seigaku to dethrone them.
---
Finally—the new Kanto Champions.
The announcer's voice boomed:
"Now, presenting your new Kanto kings—SEI~~~~GAKU!"
The stadium exploded in applause.
Most of the crowd cheered, welcoming the new dynasty.
Under their gaze, Yoru led Seigaku onto the podium.
As the committee handed him the gold medal, Yoru didn't give a speech.
Instead, he raised the medal toward the crowd—and the cheers reached a deafening peak.
---