Distorted heat waves radiated the summer's blaze across the earth.
Cicadas buzzed loudly and crisply, echoing the restlessness of the season.
Packed tightly in the narrow player tunnel, Takashi was soon drenched in sweat.
He wasn't the only one. Every baseball club member in the lineup was loosening collars and fanning their uniforms.
"So hot…"
"When are we finally going on?"
"If we keep standing here, I'm going to get heatstroke before we even play."
The upperclassmen had been to Koshien before. They didn't seem nearly as nervous as the first-years and were chatting casually among themselves.
Hearing the seniors talk, the first-years slowly began to relax as well.
Their bodies, which had been stiff with tension from reaching the national tournament, gradually eased up, and they even joined in on the conversation from time to time.
The atmosphere within the team was warm and harmonious, like one big family. The only exception was Takashi, who seemed to be left out, with no one talking to him.
It wasn't that they were intentionally excluding him—it was simply because they didn't know him well.
Since joining the club, they'd only seen Takashi twice.
Once was when he was dragged in by Otani Shota to fill out the registration form.
The other was just a few days ago when he came to fight for a spot on the first team.
And that was it.
Takashi had never even participated in a single group training session.
What was there to talk about with someone they'd only seen twice?
Of course, there was another small reason—Anai Tatsuya.
Tatsuya had worked hard for three years, and this was his only chance. That chance had been snatched away by Takashi.
To say he didn't feel anything would be a lie.
That was three full years of a boy's youth.
They might not know Takashi, but they had trained alongside Tatsuya for three years. It was only natural that they'd have some resentment toward Takashi.
Still, despite their misgivings, no one deliberately targeted him or caused trouble.
Everyone was just waiting to see how Takashi would perform.
If he performs well in today's match, fine.
If he didn't, they were definitely going to have it out with him.
"Takashi, you'll be the flag bearer."
Amatani Kensuke noticed that Takashi was being isolated but didn't intervene.
Conflicts between players were best left to be resolved among themselves. Some things the coaching staff just couldn't get involved in.
Takashi took the black flag from the team captain.
The school flag of Aoba Private High School was black, with the characters [Aoba]written in gold.
"Aoba team, are you ready?"
As Takashi was examining the flag, the guide standing in front of him called out.
At the sound, all the chatting players instantly went silent.
"We're ready," Takashi replied calmly with a nod.
The guide picked up a walkie-talkie and said something into it.
Moments later, a sweet announcer voice rang out: "Now entering the field, Aoba Private High School!"
"Let's go," Amatani Kensuke said seriously to Takashi.
Takashi unfurled the flag, straightened his back, lifted his head, and marched forward as the lead.
The coaches and players followed behind, filing out one by one.
—
"That—That's Takashi?!"
Otani Shota, who had been lazily watching TV from his hospital bed, suddenly shot upright.
"Am I seeing things?"
He rubbed his eyes hard, a look of utter disbelief on his face.
"It's him," Tanaka Kota replied, biting into an apple while watching the TV.
"He didn't even chase girls this week—just kept training hard, all day every day, trying to make the starting lineup in time."
"You seriously believe what you're saying?"
Otani shot back.
Never mind how crazy it sounded that someone could make the starting team in a week—just the part about not chasing girls was already unbelievable.
Maybe others would buy it, but Otani sure didn't.
"This time, you're really misunderstanding Takashi. I saw it myself—he didn't flirt with anyone. Right after school, he went straight to the batting cage to train. Every day."
Tanaka Kota's honest expression seemed to say: Would I lie to you? Trust me, man.
Otani still had his doubts, but the reality was, Takashi was now standing on the field at Koshien.
Maybe Tanaka was right. Maybe he really hadn't chased any girls this week? (In the front row of the stands, Hayasaka Ai suddenly sneezed. "Ah-choo!")
Otani suddenly remembered what Takashi had said the day Otani gave up in despair: "The championship will stay with Aoba—no one's taking it away."
"I'll walk the path you couldn't finish."
—
Emerging from the dark tunnel into the blinding sunlight, Takashi squinted instinctively, his eyes still adjusting.
"Aoba!"
The moment the Aoba team appeared, the head cheerleader of Aoba's support squad blushed and shouted at the top of her lungs.
"Victory!!!"
The deafening roar of thousands of Aoba students followed.
Those seated in the center section, wearing cheer uniforms, each held up placards that spelled out a huge [Aoba].
Amid the noise, the wind instrument section led by Utaha began to play.
The uniform notes rang out from the various instruments.
Trumpets were loud and clear, snare drums rapid, clarinets deep, trombones proud, flutes bright, saxophones piercing...
The collision of these sounds formed a symphony that stirred the soul.
On stage, led by Ayami Komaki, the cheerleaders dressed in shorts and T-shirts waved pompoms and inflatable baseball bats.
With all the cheering and excitement, and all eyes on him, Takashi felt like this moment—this place—was the whole world.
He felt like he was the protagonist of the world.
His heart pounded so hard, it vibrated in his eardrums.
At that moment, Takashi understood why competitive sports were so captivating.
To stand on the highest stage in the nation, after pushing through crowds and trials, to show all your skill and strategy, to clash with the strongest and emerge victorious under the deafening roar of the crowd—who could say no to such a dream?
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