"National Champions!"
"We actually became national champions!"
"Seigaku's tennis team made history—this is their first-ever national title!"
"And they won with an overwhelming 5-0 sweep! Unbelievable!"
Deafening cheers erupted, shaking the venue's walls and rattling the glass panels.
Kaido and the others were beyond ecstatic, shouting at the top of their lungs. Kirihara, caught up in the frenzy, even tore off his jersey, waving it wildly as he sprinted around the court like a monkey freed from a mountain prison.
Then, someone yelled: "The captain's coming down!"
"Quick, lift him up!!"
Without waiting for Yoru's approval, the team swarmed him, hoisting him high into the air before tossing him up again and again.
"Hey! Hey!!"
"What are you guys doing?! Put me down!!"
Yoru struggled at first, but soon, an unexpected sense of joy washed over him.
"Hah… this actually feels kinda nice."
Before long, he burst into laughter—"HAHAHAHA!!"—pushing the celebration to new heights.
"CHAMPIONS!!" he roared, pride and triumph surging through him.
Inspired, the younger players—with Oni Juujirou's help—rushed onto the court to join the festivities, dancing and laughing as they basked in the glory of their hard-earned victory.
---
"Champions, huh…"
QP allowed himself a faint smile.
He had won countless titles before, yet none had ever stirred anything in him—until now.
Though he'd only joined Seigaku midway through the prefectural tournaments, he'd witnessed firsthand the relentless effort the team poured into their dream. Day after day, they trained tirelessly, refusing to let fatigue or monotony break their focus.
No one slacked. No one complained.
They pushed forward, terrified that even the slightest mistake might cost the team everything.
And now, that dedication had borne fruit.
---
"You really did it…"
Coach Ryuzaki's voice trembled, tears glistening in her eyes.
"It's time for me to step aside. The future belongs to you now… May Seigaku reach even greater heights under your leadership."
She had gambled everything the moment Yoru joined the team.
And he hadn't disappointed.
Strategizing. Strengthening the roster. Driving his teammates through grueling training—even at the cost of his own practice time.
Step by step, they carved their path to nationals, etching their names into history.
---
Meanwhile, Nanjirou lay sprawled on the ground, foaming at the mouth while muttering something about "lost purity."
The crowd, swept up in the euphoria, rose to their feet in a thunderous standing ovation.
"Champions…"
"Seigaku actually made it…"
Among the spectators, players from eliminated teams watched with envy. Many were third-years who'd fought for three years yet never touched the trophy.
Perhaps, as the saying goes—"What youth is without regrets?"
---
In the medical tent, the mood was tense.
Fuwa Tetsuhito and the rest of the Shitenhouji team anxiously monitored the unconscious Atobe Keigo.
The doctor's diagnosis wasn't optimistic.
While the external injuries were minor, the internal damage was severe—immediate hospitalization was necessary.
Fuwa was the only one who didn't seem exasperated.
The others had seen it clearly: Atobe had deliberately lunged into the rebound point of the serve, as if craving the full brunt of its destructive force.
Had he not done so, he wouldn't be in this state.
This was entirely self-inflicted.
And perhaps only Yoru truly understood why.
---
Ten minutes later, the award podium was ready.
First up: Mukougawa Gakuen.
Led by Tanegashima and Inui, the team stepped forward to receive their bronze medals.
The weight of the metal felt bittersweet—but still better than silver.
"Losing the finals after fighting all year? Now that would've hurt."
Tanegashima and Inui exchanged a glance, then suddenly burst into laughter for no discernible reason.
Next came Shitenhouji.
Only Ochi Tsukimitsu walked up—the rest had left for the hospital.
"What a hassle~"
The crowd chuckled as Ochi awkwardly held a stack of silver medals. Yet, he seemed oddly pleased.
After two years of no results, graduating with a silver wasn't so bad.
---
"And now… please welcome… SEIGAKU!!"
The announcer's voice boomed across the stadium.
Led by Yoru, the team ascended the podium—and the crowd erupted once more.
The committee chairman handed Yoru the national championship banner.
He gripped it tightly, waving it high.
Cameras flashed, immortalizing the moment.
"So this is the banner Old Man Ryuzaki spent a hundred episodes foreshadowing… Meh, it's whatever."
But the pride in his eyes betrayed him.
Then—
[Ding!...]
A flood of system notifications chimed in his mind.
---