After the ga ended, the Seido High School Baseball Team players broke down in tears.
The third-year seniors cried the hardest.
Their shoulders shook. Their eyes were red. So of them did not even bother to wipe away the tears that kept falling.
Zhang Han stood among them, feeling a little confused.
For the third years, had not reaching Koshien been their biggest dream? They had accomplished that goal. They had even advanced to the national top eight. Although they failed to move forward today, they had already achieved what they once desperately chased.
So why did it feel like the sky had collapsed for them?
Was there truly a need to cry like this?
Zhang Han, who had made a na for himself in his first year, could not fully understand the feelings of Azuma Kiyokuni, Hidezawa, and the other seniors.
They were not crying simply because they lost. Nor was it purely dissatisfaction with the result.
What truly hurt was that this ga marked the end.
With the final out, the third-year players had effectively reached the end of their high school baseball careers.
No more practices together at dawn. No more exhausting drills in the sumr heat. No more chasing the sa dream in the sa uniform.
The realization pressed down heavily.
As soon as that thought surfaced, the tears could no longer be held back.
On the opposite side, the Osaka Kiryuu High School Baseball Team players were celebrating wildly. They shouted, laughed, and embraced one another as if they had already claid the Koshien championship itself.
In truth, they were only advancing to the national top four.
But that did not matter.
The tension they had endured in the final inning had been suffocating. For a mont, they truly believed the ga would slip away from them.
The fear of losing had been real.
So their celebration was equally real.
If they had prepared fireworks, they might have set them off right there.
Every player wore a deeply satisfied smile.
Through their expressions, one could see how much pressure Seido High School Baseball Team had imposed on them.
They had been pushed to the edge.
Azuma Kiyokuni wiped his tears roughly with his sleeve. He gathered his teammates and walked with them to the center of the field.
"Thank you for the ga!"
"Thank you for the ga!"
The two teams bowed deeply to one another.
It was the final ritual.
Then the Osaka Kiryuu school anthem echoed across Koshien Stadium.
Zhang Han stood quietly.
To be honest, he had not even fully morized Seido High School's anthem. He sotis sang off-key. He occasionally found this part of the ceremony tedious.
But hearing the opposing anthem resound on this field stirred sothing unpleasant in his chest.
It sounded awkward to him.
Perhaps Seido's anthem was not particularly beautiful either, but it was theirs.
That difference mattered.
Several third-year players walked toward the infield and crouched down. They scooped up small handfuls of dirt and carefully wrapped it in cloth.
A souvenir from Koshien. A silent token of their final sumr.
Among the five first and second-year regulars, none of them bent down to take dirt. Seido's younger players held their heads high. In their hearts, this was not the end.
They would return.
This sumr might have concluded here, but they firmly believed that Koshien would see them again.
Komochi and several Osaka Kiryuu players approached Seido's side after finishing their celebration.
"You scared us to death," Komochi said honestly. "For a mont, I thought we were going ho."
His tone was sincere.
Yet to Seido's players, the words did not sound comforting.
"Are you mocking us?"
Azuma Kiyokuni's eyes were still red as he glared.
Individually, Komochi had not gained the upper hand against him today. In fact, Azuma had struck him hard.
"Absolutely not," Masaoka quickly interjected. "We truly an it. Your performance was incredible."
Masaoka's serious expression and steady voice carried weight.
The Seido players sensed no ridicule in him.
"We still lost," Captain Tanaka said calmly as he stepped forward and extended his hand.
"Congratulations."
Masaoka grasped his hand firmly.
"Since you beat us," Hidezawa added, "do not lose in the next rounds."
Masaoka nodded solemnly.
"We will not."
They had survived such a difficult match. They would not waste that victory.
After thanking the fans who had traveled to support them, Seido's players slowly returned to their dugout to pack their belongings.
Their backs looked heavy.
Coach Kataoka watched silently.
He wanted to speak.
He wanted to tell them they had perford brilliantly. He wanted to tell them there was no sha in this defeat. He wanted to say they could hold their heads high.
But the words remained unspoken.
The players already knew. They did not need hollow consolation.
Koshien had broadened their horizons. They now understood clearly where they stood among the nation's strongest teams. They had confidence in their abilities.
Given that, what more could he add?
After returning to the hotel, the team wasted no ti. They packed their luggage and boarded the school bus back to Seido.
At the school gates, the principal and the dean were waiting. A celebratory banquet had already been arranged. Advancing to the top eight of Koshien was no small achievent.
For a school that had missed Koshien for several years, simply returning and performing brilliantly was cause for pride.
Yes, the quarter-final exit stung.
But encountering the Cosmic Team Osaka Kiryuu made that outco understandable.
The principal and the dean valued sothing else even more.
Exposure. Reputation.
The return of Seido's na to the national stage.
Azuma Kiyokuni had hit six ho runs, nearly tying the historical record. His on-base percentage was astonishing. His performance had already earned him recognition as one of the nation's premier hitters.
Even before Koshien concluded, more than a dozen professional scouts had submitted applications to visit and observe Seido's training.
All twelve professional teams from the island nation had shown interest.
Even representatives from Major League organizations were included.
And it was not just Azuma.
Zhang Han, who had broken two Koshien rookie records, had drawn imnse attention.
His performance rivaled Azuma's, and he was only a first-year. His potential seed limitless.
Professional scouts and dia reporters had extended countless olive branches to Seido. The thought alone made the principal beam. The dean smiled so widely that his cheeks ached.
They would not be stingy with rewards. The heroes who brought Seido back into the spotlight deserved recognition.
Yet amid the banquet preparations and the growing excitent about the future, so players quietly touched the dirt they had brought back.
For the third-years, the journey had ended.
For Zhang Han and the others, it had only just begun.
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