Finally, after wandering around for a while, Hiro arrived at the pitch. Walking out of the tunnel, Hiro stood before the tunnel.
With the absence of the spectators, the stadium was ghastly silent. It was something different from what he was used to.
Having played here under the watchful gazes of thousands of spectators, Hiro wasn't used to the silence. This moment felt like the first time he had visited here.
Then he settled at the center of the pitch.
"This place holds a lot of memories for you, doesn't it?" a middle-aged man dressed elegantly in formal attire asked Hiro.
His short black hair was neatly combed, and he had a rather well-defined jaw with a clean-shaven face. Holding a microphone, he looked straight at Hiro.
Hiro sweeping his gaze around nodded, "Indeed. This place holds a lot of memories. I don't think I'd be able to forget those memories for the rest of my life. Even now as I look around, I feel like I'm at home."