Chapter 42 Prelude

The Seimei High School team bus pulled up outside the stadium, the engine's hum barely audible over the buzz of anticipation outside. Crowds of fans had already gathered for the quarter final, and their excitement hit a fever pitch as soon as the Nehimon Seimei players began stepping off the bus. The air was alive with energy, banners waved proudly, and a chorus of cheers rang out, punctuated by the occasional scream from young fans.

Ryoichi was the first to step down. His sharp features and confidence made him a magnetic presence wherever he went. Immediately, a group of girls began waving frantically, shouting his name.

"Ryoichi-kun! Look this way!"

"You're amazing, Ryoichi!"

"We love you!"

Ryoichi glanced at them with a smile, raising a hand in acknowledgment. The girls erupted into a frenzy, squealing in delight. His casual grin looked like something out of a movie, and he knew it.

Kenji, right behind him, rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. "He really does love the attention," he muttered.

Not that Kenji wasn't popular in his own right, but there was something about Ryoichi's air that made him seem almost untouchable. It annoyed Kenji to no end that Ryoichi didn't even have to try, and the crowd still ate it up.

As the rest of the team stepped off the bus, Koji sauntered up to Shinjiro, grinning like a mischievous kid. "This is your first time on the bench, right?" he asked mockingly.

Shinjiro scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah... kinda," he replied, glancing down at his shoes. He was still getting used to the fact that he wasn't starting in today's game.

Koji smirked. "Don't worry. You'll get used to the splinters," he teased. Before Shinjiro could respond, Koji patted his shoulder in a not-so-gentle way.

Not far behind them, Kohei was walking with the rest of the team, side-eyeing the exchange. There was something about Shinjiro that irked Kohei. He couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was Shinjiro's quiet confidence, or maybe it was because Shinjiro didn't seem fazed by the usual hierarchy of the team. Kohei scoffed quietly. Hmph, he must've been stuck with those bums in Team C, But still i didn't see him during tryouts in March.....something doesn't add up. This fucker...he just popped out of nowhere and stole my spotlight, and appeared when the third years retired. His eyes narrowed as he sized up Shinjiro.

A tap on his shoulder broke his thoughts. It was Kai, looking animated. "Think you'll close today?" he asked, a bit too excited for Kohei's comfort.

Kohei laughed nervously, quickly waving off the thought. "C'mon, not in a big game like this," he said, feigning humility. But inwardly, his thoughts were far from humble. How dare he touch my heavenly shoulder!? I'll let you off, since you'll be telling your grandkids about this moment.....he recoiled slightly, shaking his head, but played it off with a forced grin.

As they made their way into the stadium, the atmosphere shifted. The tunnel leading to the locker rooms was quieter, darker, but far more intense. The reporters and scouts from professional teams lined the passage, notepads in hand, cameras at the ready, murmuring about who might be their next big prospect.

---

As Noboru Hayashi and Masato from Suma Tomogaoka entered the tunnel, the tension in the air was suffocating. The two teams had met here before, and the memory of their last encounter hung heavily between them. Nehimon Seimei had snatched victory last time, and Noboru had never forgotten the sting of it.

Walking side by side, they nearly collided with Kenji and Ryoichi from Seimei. It was as if the universe itself had orchestrated this meeting, the two sides facing each other like gunslingers in an old Western.

For a moment, no one spoke, and the silence between them felt like the calm before a storm. Then, Masato broke the tension with a sly grin. "The result of this match!" he said, his voice smooth with confidence, "will be different from the last one."

Kenji, standing tall with his arms crossed, didn't flinch. "You wish," he replied coldly, his eyes locked on Masato's. Kenji wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and if anyone thought they'd have an easy win against Seimei, they were in for a rude awakening.

Noboru, standing beside Masato, glared at Kenji. His jaw clenched tightly. "You got a lucky home run off me last time," Noboru spat, his voice carrying an edge of bitterness. "This time, you won't be lucky."

But before Kenji could respond, Ryoichi, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. His tone was calm, collected, but there was a sharpness to his words that cut through the tension. "A dog will always have its day, but not today."

Masato blinked, a bit stunned by the retort, then let out a laugh. "Wow, that's a good one," he said, clearly impressed. "Let's see how you do in the field."

The two teams continued to stare each other down. As Kenji and Masato stepped forward to shake hands, it was anything but friendly. Their grips were tight, fingers digging into each other's arms, neither willing to show weakness. They locked eyes, the intensity of the moment spilling over.

Just behind them, Noboru eyed Ryoichi, and the loathing in his gaze was unmistakable. Noboru had been overshadowed by Ryoichi for as long as he could remember. Back in little league, he had admired Ryoichi, even aspired to be like him. But somewhere along the way, admiration had turned to resentment. Ryoichi was always a step ahead, always the one who got the attention, while Noboru was left in the shadows.

The silence stretched on for another moment, each player silently promising the other that this would be a battle like no other. The passage was thick with tension, the air almost crackling with it.

Kenji released his grip on Masato, stepping back. "We'll see who's standing when the game's over."

Masato grinned and nodded. "We will."

As the two teams finally parted ways, the tension didn't fade—it followed them like a shadow. Noboru's hands shook slightly as he flexed his fingers, but his mind was clear. This time, I'm not just aiming to win, he thought. I'm taking him down.

Back in the locker rooms, the teams prepared for what was sure to be an explosive clash. The tension hadn't just been left in the tunnel—it had carried over, spilling into every corner of the stadium. Fans were filling the seats, reporters whispered among themselves, and scouts from pro teams were already noting down names.

This game was more than just a prelude to the season—it was a statement. And as the players laced up their cleats and pulled on their jerseys, each one knew that today, they weren't just playing for victory. They were playing to prove something.

----

Hiroshi and Yumi settled into their seats, the hum of the crowd buzzing around them. Yumi adjusted her glasses scanning the field, but couldn't spot Shinjiro as the players were lining up. With a sigh, she turned to her husband.

"Honey, you should've told him we were coming," she said softly.

Hiroshi, eyes fixed on the players warming up, shook his head. "No. It'd hurt his pride. Didn't you see his mood yesterday? he won't start."

Yumi frowned, sensing Hiroshi's frustration. "He's been working so hard....."

Hiroshi sighed. "It's not just about hard work anymore. He needs that break. When he gets it, we'll be here, cheering him on."