The long, resounding final whistle marked the end of the road for Sengoku's journey in the fourth round of the prefectural tournament.
There were no surprises.
No miracles.
With nothing but their serve, the opponent had taken the final, decisive point right from their hands.
Akashi Asuka slowly straightened up, hands on his hips, and looked up into the bright lights above.
How should he put it?
To be honest, he had already prepared himself for this outcome before the match even began. After all, the difference in skill between them and Kitagawa was far from small.
So losing… was only natural.
And yet, he couldn't help but feel a little frustrated.
"Team up!"
After a brief silence, head tilted back, Akashi quickly composed himself, wiped the sweat running down his cheek, and spoke clearly.
But no one responded.
He turned around.
Behind him, the entire Sengoku team stood blank-eyed, stunned, as if they still couldn't believe the match was truly over.
After a long moment...
Oomae Masato was the first to snap out of it, clapping his hands and forcing cheer into his voice. "Come on, everyone! What's with those faces? We've tied the club record this year, we made it into the top 16 in the prefecture! That's something to smile about!"
"Heh… yeah, Oomae's right. This result is the outcome of all our hard work. Shouldn't we end the game with a smile, like we always do?"
"And Kitagawa is a top-tier team in the prefecture. Losing to them is nothing to be ashamed of."
Ryuhei Sanashita clapped his hands too, trying his best to smile. "Alright, alright. Kazama, Kuramae, Oda, wipe those faces clean. Time to line up."
...
"Teams, line up."
"Bow!"
"Thank you for the match! x2!!"
After the formal bow and handshake, both teams parted ways.
Just before leaving, the coach of Kitagawa looked at the backs of the Sengoku players, then glanced toward his own team, specifically at Tobio Kageyama, who now seemed quietly isolated from the others.
He let out a deep sigh.
His worries had come true after all.
Truth was, the coach had hoped that Sengoku might beat Kageyama in the second set, not to win the match, but to make the boy recognize his flaws and adjust his mindset.
Unfortunately, whether due to Kageyama's overwhelming talent or the gap in team strength, Sengoku never had a chance.
In the end…
Kageyama crushed them almost single-handedly.
"If you don't have the strength, even a miracle landing on your head is just a burden you can't carry."
...
After leaving the prefectural gym, Coach Shimokawa kept his promise and treated the team to a meal.
But even with the rare treat of delicious food in front of them, not a single player had an appetite. Their expressions were vacant, and the air hung heavy with silence.
Except for Akashi Asuka.
Whether it was his "King of Tryhards" trait or the system's support functions, the energy that fueled these enhancements didn't come from nowhere. It drew from his own reserves, using them more efficiently.
In a way, it was a form of "equivalent exchange."
Which meant that the more intense his training, the more he needed to replenish himself, otherwise, he wouldn't recover by the next day.
Thanks to this, Akashi's appetite has grown noticeably lately.
"Another bowl of rice, please!"
He called the server over without hesitation.
Coach Shimokawa winced slightly at the sheer volume Akashi was eating, it was practically frightening.
At the same time, though, he felt relieved.
The fact that Akashi could still eat like this proved he hadn't been completely crushed by the loss. After all, compared to physical skill or technique, the human spirit is always harder to train.
"Alright, everyone, dig in. We won't have the strength to move forward unless we eat."
Ryuhei Sanashita, Oomae Masato, and the others exchanged glances, then slowly started picking up their chopsticks.
Somewhere during the meal, soft sobs began to echo.
Everyone turned toward the sound.
The one crying wasn't a starting player.
It was… Nishimori Tomohiko.
Everyone: "(O_O)???"
"Hey, Nishimori, why are you crying? You didn't even play today."
Nishimori wiped at his tears and said, "I know… but I still feel upset. You, senpais trained so hard. If only we hadn't drawn Kitagawa so early, I'm sure we could've gone even further!"
...
Silence fell again.
Coach Shimokawa felt awkward.
Seriously? I'm buying you dinner and you're still dragging out the pain?
"We gave it our all, but our opponents worked even harder. That's why they won. What's done is done. The only thing left to do… is to get our revenge in the future."
"We're not graduating yet. Starting in October, we'll have one more shot, the national tournament."
"If you're frustrated, then eat up, rest well, and train hard. That's what comes next."
"If we get strong enough, sooner or later… we'll meet Kitagawa again."
"That's all there is to it."
Finishing his last bite of rice, Akashi gently placed his bowl down and spoke, one word at a time.
"Thank you for the meal."
"Coach, may I head out first?"
Coach Shimokawa looked surprised. "You're not heading back with us?"
Akashi nodded. "I have a few things to pick up. I'll head home on my own."
"Alright. Be careful on the way."
"I will. Thanks, Coach."
...
After the meal, Coach Shimokawa drove the rest of the team home.
As soon as she got in, Oda Miki dropped her bag and headed for the court with a volleyball in her arms...
Nishimori, tears still clinging to his lashes, quietly resumed his physical training...
Oomae Masato lay on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as scenes from the match replayed in his mind...
Ryuhei Sanashita slammed his fist into the bathroom wall in frustration...
Neko Kurata sat with a game controller in hand, unable to focus on the monsters on screen...
Jujiro Kazama tossed and turned on the sofa, unable to relax...
They lost today.
And though none of them shed bitter tears, neither did they walk off the court with their usual smiles.
The seeds they'd planted had begun to sprout.
But whether those sprouts would wither or flourish…
That was something only they could decide.