Back on our momentum, the match continued.
Matsuyama pushed forward with the ball, still calling out instructions to his teammates. He approached Soda's side and managed to slip past him—Soda held back, clearly cautious not to risk a second yellow.
Seeing our defense closing in, Matsuyama took a long shot from outside the box. Tsuji went for the save… but the ball slipped through his gloves and into the net.
"Will they make it?!"
2–2.
The match restarted.
Matsuyama quickly won the ball from Ide, who was trying to push through midfield but lacked the energy. I stepped in.
"I'll take that." I said, stealing the ball cleanly.
"No—damn." Matsuyama muttered, trying to react, but it was too late.
I surged forward, and Matsuyama struggled to keep up. Between the knock from Soda earlier and the constant pressure I'd put on him all game, his legs just couldn't respond anymore.
I broke into the center lane, slicing past two more defenders in the run-up, and with my left foot, curled a shot from outside the box.
Straight into the back of the net.
The commentator nearly exploded through the speakers.
"He just won't stop!"
Matsuyama, hands on knees, called out to his team between gasps.
"Come on guys—just a bit more!"
But by then, it was one-way traffic. They made a small mistake in midfield, and we punished it—turning it into yet another goal.
The final whistle blew. 4–2.
"You were the better team today." Matsuyama said, still catching his breath. He held out his hand. I shook it.
"Let's return to Hokkaido with pride." Matusyama told his teammates.
The crowd cheered as both teams lined up to bow and salute.
It was time to leave the pitch and let the next match begin: Musashi FC vs Hitani FC.
We headed back to the locker room for showers and a change of clothes, then returned to the stands to watch the game.
"Go! Go! Go! Hitani!" some girls screamed from the stands nearby.
"Wow, I didn't know Hitani had that many fans." Tsuji said, eyebrows raised.
"Those aren't Hitani fans." Nakai replied, smirking. "They're here for Misugi."
"Wait, why are they cheering for the other team then?" Tsuji asked, genuinely confused.
I leaned forward from the row behind him.
"Because they want Misugi to actually play. If Hitani puts up a fight, it'll force him off the bench."
"Ah… I get it now." he nodded, wide-eyed. "That's crazy. To think, I thought you had a lot of fans." Tsuji told me, I laughed at his comment and the others too.
The first half was tight, tighter than Musashi FC had expected.
To everyone's surprise, they were trailing 2–1 against Hitani at halftime.
"What did you think?!" shouted one of the Hitani players."That we got this far by luck?"
As the teams headed to the locker rooms for the break, a buzz started rippling through the crowd.
Then, just as the second half was about to begin, Musashi made a substitution.
"Number 14, Jun Misugi, known as the Prince of the Pitch, is coming on!" The stadium erupted in cheers, applause, and high-pitched screams from every corner.
"They're so dramatic about this Misugi guy." muttered a Hitani player, clearly annoyed.
But once the whistle blew again, it was clear, the tide had turned.
With Misugi on the field, Musashi's entire playstyle shifted.
Graceful, precise, and effortlessly effective, he scored one goal… then another… and finally, sealed the match with a third.
Final score: Musashi FC 4 – Hitani FC 2.
The semifinals were now set.
On one side: Nankatsu vs. Musashi.
On the other: Meiwa vs. Azumaichi.
The final stretch was about to begin.
[ Kozo Kira's POV ]
"The climb gets steeper from here." We'd won all our matches, but I knew better than to look ahead too far.
"Before even thinking about the final, we'll have to get through Azumaichi." I muttered, scratching my head.
Then—Bzz—a message lit up my phone. "Oh?" I grinned.
"Looks like all the pieces are in place now. The crown can no longer escape Meiwa." I let out a quiet laugh.
[ Shin's POV ]
I was in the cafeteria, on the phone with my grandparents. "Really? You're coming Grandpa?" I asked, surprised but happy.
"Yes, Shin. We'll be there to watch you play." My grandfather's voice always carried warmth and strength. After a short talk, we hung up.
Then, out of nowhere, Hyuga showed up.
"Your parents won't be coming?" His voice was direct, rough as usual.
"My parents passed away. So, no." I answered honestly.
"...I see." He seemed caught off guard. He didn't push the conversation further. He just nodded and walked away.
I knew Hyuga's story.
He wanted to succeed in football to support his mother and siblings, especially after losing his own father. I understood what that kind of weight felt like.
And lately, he must have been feeling even more pressure, with the Toho Academy scholarship hanging in the balance.
I thought I saw their scout, Madam Kaori, in the stands during our last match.
The next day, the semifinals were about to begin.
First up, Nankatsu SC vs Musashi FC.
We were in the stands when both teams made their entrance onto the field, greeted by a roar from the crowd.
"It's finally about to start." Soda said beside me, eyes fixed on the pitch.
The players lined up. From across the field, Jun gave me a subtle nod, his expression calm but full of determination.
Then came the formal handshakes and bows. For the first time this tournament, Jun Misugi was starting the match.
"Go, Tsubasa!" a girl shouted from somewhere to my right. That girl was none other than Sanae Nakazawa, surrounded by the brass band of Nankatsu, playing their anthem with all their heart.
"Let's go, Misugi!" screamed the group of fans on my left, Jun's fan club. Right in front of them stood Yayoi Aoba, silent, not cheering, but clearly anxious, eyes locked on Jun.
I glanced between both sides, then let out a small sigh, a thought just slipped out of my mind.
"Why don't we have a manager?"