Chapter 53 Post-Game

The stadium exploded into thunderous applause and cheers as the match was done. Nehimon Seimei had done it—Ryoichi Kuroda had pushed through, despite all the whispers about his stamina, securing their place in the semi-final of the fall tournament. The Seimei fans, surged to their feet, waving flags and chanting their team's name.

"The Seimei boys have done it! They're moving on to the semi-final of the fall tournament!" the commentator's voice rang out.

In the Seimei section, pure euphoria rippled through the air. Fans embraced each other, some jumping up and down with uncontrollable joy, while others remained in disbelief, holding their heads as if trying to comprehend what had just happened.

"Did you see Shinjiro? Man, that was clutch!" one fan shouted, his voice hoarse from cheering.

"We won because of him!" another fan added, slapping his friend's shoulder. "I didn't think he would make a difference, but that home run...."

Even among the loudest of Seimei's supporters, up in the stands, a group of imposing figures watched the celebration with quiet intensity—the players from Shukugawa High School, a team known for their brute force and towering power hitters. They had already punched their ticket to the semi-finals and had come to see which team would stand in their way.

Rikuto Sakurai, Shukugawa's captain, stretched lazily in his seat, a slow smirk creeping across his face as he watched Seimei's players shaking hands on the field.

"Looks like we'll be facing Seimei next," Rikuto said, leaning back with a grin. "This is going to be fun."

Beside him, Shukugawa's ace pitcher, Kengo Saito, cracked his knuckles absently, his eyes locked on Ryoichi.

"Their ace is good, no doubt," Kengo said in a low voice. "But i doubt he'll start. Hmph even if he did, he'll be lucky to make it through three innings."

Takefase Muraoka, their catcher, leaned forward slightly, his gaze never wavering from the field. "Ryoichi's got control, but that first year, Shinjiro....i remember him, he was shit in little league and quit pitching, looks like he peaked in high school."

Rikuto chuckled, rubbing his hands together as if he was already savoring the upcoming challenge. "Better start preparing, boys. Seimei's about to get a real taste of what real baseball looks like."

Down on the field, the Nehimon Seimei and Suma Tomogaoka teams lined up to bow, showing the traditional respect that came after such a fierce match. The intensity and fire that had fueled both teams throughout the game had subsided, replaced by an unspoken bond of mutual respect.

Kenji, Seimei's captain, extended his hand toward Noboru, who had led Suma Tomogaoka with fierce determination. Noboru had been a powerful presence on the mound, and even though his team had come up short, he had earned the respect of his opponents.

"That was tough," Kenji said, gripping Noboru's hand tightly. "You almost had us."

Noboru, still reeling from the loss, nodded, his expression hard but respectful. "Next time," he said, his voice quiet but resolute, "we won't fall short."

Nearby, the two head coaches approached each other. Coach Nakamura oextended his hand to Coach Fujimoto.

"Your team is strong, we got lucky today." Nakamura said with genuine admiration, his handshake firm and respectful.

Fujimoto, though clearly disappointed, nodded tightly. "We'll see each other again, Nakamura. Count on it."

Ryoichi wiped the sweat from his brow, his entire body aching with the effort it had taken to close out the game. Just as he was about to sit down and take a much-needed breath, one of the team officials approached with a grin.

"Ryoichi, you and Shinjiro are needed for the post-game interview."

Ryoichi nodded, his calm demeanor never faltering. But as he turned to look at Shinjiro, who stood nearby with wide eyes, he could see the younger player's nerves starting to take hold.

Shinjiro's stomach churned as the weight of the moment hit him. He had been prepared for the game, but for an interview? His pulse quickened, and his thoughts raced, scrambling for what to say.

"An interview?" Shinjiro mumbled under his breath, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "What am I even supposed to say!?"

With a calm smile, Ryoichi clapped a firm hand on Shinjiro's shoulder, grounding him.

"Relax," Ryoichi said softly. "You did great out there. Just speak from the heart. They'll ask about the home run—you've got this."

Shinjiro nodded, though the pit in his stomach didn't ease as they walked toward the reporters. The interviewer turned to Ryoichi first, clearly eager to speak with the ace who had held the game together.

"Ryoichi, another brilliant game from you!" the interviewer began, leaning forward eagerly. "How did it feel to push through those last innings despite the fatigue?"

Ryoichi smiled easily, as if the exhaustion he had endured was already a distant memory. His composure in front of the camera was as calm and collected as it had been on the mound.

"It was tough," Ryoichi admitted, his voice smooth and measured. "By the eighth inning, my legs were shaking, but I knew I had to finish what I started. The team was behind me, and we believed in our strategy. That's what carried me through."

Shinjiro stood beside him, watching closely, almost in awe of how effortlessly Ryoichi handled the interview. He made it look so easy. Ryoichi wasn't just an ace on the field—he was a leader. Watching him now, Shinjiro realized how much further he had to go, not just in his skills but in how he carried himself under pressure. That's the kind of player I want to be.

The interviewer then turned to Shinjiro, and suddenly the spotlight shifted. Shinjiro felt the weight of the microphone being handed to him, the camera zooming in, the bright light now feeling unbearably hot.

"And Shinjiro, that home run was incredible!" the interviewer exclaimed. "Coming off the bench to hit a game-changing shot—what was going through your mind during that at-bat?"

Shinjiro swallowed hard, his mind scrambling for the right words. What do I say? His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to remember Ryoichi's advice. Speak from the heart.

"I... I was just trying to stay focused," Shinjiro began, his voice shaky at first but growing steadier as he spoke. "Noboru was throwing tough pitches, and I didn't want to get caught swinging at something bad. When I saw the pitch coming... I just swung."

The reporters chuckled at his honesty, and Shinjiro felt some of the tension ease from his chest.

"Fans are already calling you monster rookie," the interviewer continued. "How does it feel to have that kind of impact in your first year?"

Shinjiro's face flushed, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I wouldn't say it's all me," he mumbled. "We're a team, and I just did my part. Ryoichi carried us with his pitching—I'm just happy I could help."

Ryoichi, always quick to support his teammates, leaned into the microphone with a grin. "Don't let him fool you. He has serious potential."

As the interview wrapped up and the cameras began to move away, Shinjiro let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

As they walked back toward stadium entrance, Ryoichi clapped Shinjiro on the back, grinning. "Not bad, huh?"

Shinjiro returned the smile, "Yeah... Not bad."

As the team began to filter out of the stadium, the cool evening air felt refreshing after the heat and intensity of the game. Shinjiro stretched his arms over his head, his body still buzzing from the adrenaline. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still see the pitch coming toward him, the crack of the bat, and the ball sailing over the fence. It was almost too perfect.

As he neared the stadium's entrance, Shinjiro caught sight of his parents standing just beyond the gates. His mother, Yumi, waved at him enthusiastically, her face beaming with pride, while his father, Hiroshi, stood beside her, hands in his pockets, a satisfied but more subdued smile on his face.

"Mom? Dad?" Shinjiro jogged over to them, surprised. "Why didn't tell me you were coming!?" There was a mix of excitement and confusion in his voice.

Yumi shot Hiroshi a glare before turning her wide smile back on Shinjiro. "It was supposed to be a surprise! We couldn't miss your big game, could we?"

Hiroshi scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously. "We just decided to keep it a secret." He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "Didn't think you'd end up hitting the game-winning home run, though."

Shinjiro glanced down at the ground for a moment, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "It just kind of happened."

Yumi reached up and tousled his hair. "Well, it was incredible! You should have seen the crowd! We were all screaming so loud, I thought we'd lose our voices."

Hiroshi, who was usually more reserved with his emotions, gave his son a firm pat on the back. "You did well, son. We're poud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," Shinjiro said, his voice quieter now. He was beginning to feel the weight of the day's events, both physically and emotionally.

As they began walking toward the parking lot, the sounds of the stadium still hummed in the background—players and fans slowly dispersing.

Yumi, never one to stay quiet for long, broke the silence. "So, what's next? You've got the semi-finals coming up, right?"

"Yeah," Shinjiro finally said, his tone more serious now. "Shukugawa's next. They're no joke."

Hiroshi, sensing the shift in his son's demeanor, gave a small nod. "You'll figure it out. One game at a time, right?"

As Shinjiro rode home with his parents, his thoughts kept drifting back to the game, to his home run, to Ryoichi's resilience on the mound. But more than that, he thought about what lay ahead. Shukugawa wasn't just another team—they were a good team, and everyone knew it.