"What did you just say, Shin?" Soda asked, glancing sideways at me.
"Nothing, forget it, Makoto." I replied, brushing it off. "Let's just focus on the match."
"This long-awaited clash, one of the biggest fixtures of this tournament... is about to begin!" the announcer's voice echoed through the stadium.
The referee blew the whistle.
Musashi kicked off, and the ball landed at Jun Misugi's feet. Two Nankatsu players immediately closed in, so he passed swiftly to Honma on the wing, who began pushing up the field with pace.
Misugi trailed the run, not with the ball, but charging through the center.
"I've got you now." growled a Nankatsu defender as he confronted Honma——but Honma smirked, "Keep dreaming." and sent a sharp cross toward Misugi.
"You won't get past us so easily!" shouted Ishizaki from Nankatsu, closing in near the box. But Misugi called out. "It's yours, Sanada!"
"Brilliant! Sanada is completely unmarked in front of the goal!" the commentator exclaimed.
"I've got it!" Sanada dove forward, heading the ball in full extension, but Morisaki, the Nankatsu goalkeeper, read it well. He leapt and caught the ball cleanly in both hands.
"Damn." muttered Sanada in frustration.
"So close! Musashi were just inches from scoring. The presence of Misugi is already injecting new life into their attack!" the commentator added.
Morisaki immediately kicked the ball back into play.
Misaki started the build-up for Nankatsu, weaving his way up the pitch with elegant control. He crossed into the middle where Tsubasa was already poised for a volley, but out of nowhere, Misugi's foot intercepted the pass mid-air.
"Face me, Tsubasa." Misugi challenged as he stole possession.
"I'm coming, Misugi." Tsubasa replied, locking eyes with him.
"Here it is—our first real duel: Misugi vs. Tsubasa." the commentator declared, his voice hushed with anticipation.
The stadium roared, fans from both sides on their feet, chanting, shouting, living for this very moment.
"What a match." said Tsuji, seated in front of me.
"Misugi has Tsubasa closing in from behind and two Nankatsu defenders blocking his path. What will he do now?" the commentator narrated with intensity.
Misugi started weaving through the defenders with his signature fluid feints. Just as he slipped past them, Tsubasa caught up and attempted a slide tackle.
Misugi leapt gracefully, keeping control of the ball midair, and followed up with a shot—
—but Tsubasa spun back instantly, throwing himself in the way and blocking the strike.
The match carried on, a relentless rhythm of possession shifts and clashes.
"Misugi recovers the ball!" the commentator announced again.
"Ichinose!" Misugi called out, launching the ball forward toward the striker. Ichinose got to it, but. "No! He misses! The shot goes wide!"
From where I sat, I spotted Jun's parents entering the stands and quietly taking their seats.
The match was electric, end-to-end action, a constant back-and-forth laced with fierce duels between Tsubasa and Misugi. But despite the sparks, no goals had been scored yet.
Then, it happened again, a direct one-on-one between the two. This time, the clash was more physical. Misugi charged forward, but mid-run… he winced, clutching his chest near the heart for a split second. That moment of weakness cost him possession as a Nankatsu player swooped in.
"Misugi, are you alright?" Tsubasa asked, choosing concern over pressing the play.
"So... you knew." Misugi replied quietly, referring to his condition.
Then, out of nowhere, with renewed focus, Misugi regained the ball, dribbled ahead with a burst of elegance and will. One opponent after another fell to his dazzling technique, he feinted, cut in, evaded, and danced through the chaos, until finally…
He fired.
Goal.
The stadium erupted.
"Misugi scores! Musashi takes the lead in this monumental semifinal!" the commentator roared.
The match resumed.
In danger, Nankatsu restarted play with a pass to Tsubasa, who immediately linked up with Misaki in a fast-paced one-two.
"The Golden Duo is in motion! They're closing in on the goal!" the commentator shouted, his voice full of excitement.
Misaki lobbed the ball beautifully into the box. Tsubasa charged in and launched into one of his signature bicycle kicks. The ball sliced through the defense and found the net.
Goal. Equalizer.
Shortly after, the halftime whistle blew. But when the second half began, the intensity didn't fade.
Rain began to fall gently over the stadium.
Misugi, calm and composed, issued new instructions before leading another attack. And then a goal. His second.
Musashi FC was ahead again.
On the field, Tsubasa looked drained. His movements slowed.
Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out from the stands.
"Are you really gonna stop there?!" shouted Wakabayashi. "I came here to play the final with you, Tsubasa! So answer me are you giving up?!"
"Wakabayashi..." Tsubasa murmured.
"You can't quit now, not if you're serious about going to Brazil!" added Roberto, his mentor.
"Tsubasa, that's not like you! Win this match!" shouted Sanae this time.
And just like that, the fire returned to Tsubasa's eyes.
With renewed energy, Tsubasa regained his rhythm. Smooth, fast, unstoppable. He found his opening and scored. 2–2.
But Misugi wasn't done. Not by a long shot. Even with his heart condition slowing him down, he pressed forward, ball at his feet.
A new duel began, Misugi versus Tsubasa.
This time, Misugi faltered. He dropped to his knees, clutching his chest.
Nankastu scored the goal.
"Jun!" cried his mother, held back by her husband. The coach called for a substitution.
But Misugi stood up.
"No. I'm finishing this match. All the way."
"Then give it your all, son. No one's stopping you today!" his father roared.
Despite the pain… Misugi scored again.
Final minutes.
Free kick for Nankatsu. Only one minute left. The score: 3–3.
Misugi shouted.
"Get in position! Don't let Tsubasa touch that ball!"
The kick was launched.
"There's only one outcome." whispered Tsubasa.
He leapt higher than ever before, ready to unleash a powerful bicycle kick. But Misugi was right there, challenging him in the air.
Their legs clashed, a fierce midair duel.
Then… they both missed.
"Perfect." Misugi exhaled, thinking they had reached extra time.
But out of nowhere, Misaki came flying in.
A last-second diving header.
'Too bad you have this disease Jun, it's really too bad.' I thought.
The ball hit the net.
Just before the final whistle.
"It's over! Nankatsu wins 4–3!" screamed the commentator, as the stadium stood frozen in shock at the dramatic ending.
After the match, I was in a hallway.
Right in front of me sat Misugi, slumped slightly on a bench, sweat still clinging to his brow.
He looked up at me, his expression calm.
"Unfortunately, I couldn't make it to the final, Shin."