As the baseball slipped past his glove underneath, traversed through the pitcher’s mound, and pierced the entire infield, Yoshinaga Kentarou felt dizzy, lifted his head, slowly closed his eyes, and let out a heavy sigh.
He knew that with this hit recorded in the statistics, the match was over—the ga was lost, Nihon University No. 3, lost.
In other words, the sumr belonging to this generation of Nihon University No. 3 had concluded with this regrettable defeat: except for when he was a first-year as a substitute in the stands accompanying the team to Koshien, Yoshinaga Kentarou had never stood on the pitcher’s mound in the sumr at Koshien.
Regrettable, isn’t it? Certainly regrettable—after all, Yoshinaga Kentarou prepared a lot for this ga, yet couldn’t change the outco; to say there’s no regret is impossible;
But for so reason, rather than regret, his heart is filled more with a sense of relief:
Setting aside the lantable result, he felt he had given everything in this match, leaving nothing behind—since he still couldn’t defeat the opponent after that, what’s left to regret?
But... why do my eyes feel a bit moist?
To prevent tears from falling, Yoshinaga Kentarou had to keep his head raised like this; until his emotions settled completely, he saw his teammates’ condition:
If Yoshinaga’s heart held more regret for exhausting all efforts yet failing, the other Nihon University No. 3 players felt guilt even more acutely:
In this match, Yoshinaga Kentarou pitched the complete ga, striking out 14, a comndable performance as a starting pitcher—but his teammates couldn’t give enough support during the ga.
The final score was just 1 point apart—yet this small difference stood like a chasm between the two teams, dividing the field into two contrasting scenes.
Under the relentless pressure of guilt, many Nihon University No. 3 players cried on the spot—especially the half-starter second-year players, who cried the most: because they knew they might have another chance next year; but for their seniors on the field, this regret couldn’t be redied.
Slowly approaching the weeping juniors, Yoshinaga Kentarou smiled and patted their shoulders, speaking in a light-hearted manner:
"Alright, everyone, don’t cry anymore—since this is my last ga as a third-year senior, can I ask you all to send off with a smile?"
"That’s life, right? Failure is the the—being able to win the Shengong Conference with everyone, this senior feels quite fortunate; this match, we lost only after giving our all, there’s no need for self-bla."
"Rember the experience of this defeat, learn from it, and strive to show more in the next showdown, that’s the last piece of advice from as your senior."
After saying this, Yoshinaga Kentarou specifically sought out the current second-year, Saito Fudou—he’s the team’s second-year ace, expected to naturally take over the number 1 jersey after he retires.
Saito Fudou was still wiping tears with his hand, Yoshinaga Kentarou began without speaking, simply crouching before him; until the crying subsided, Yoshinaga Kentarou solemnly said:
"Fudou, before I leave, I have a sentence for you—this sentence was given to by my senior, Yamazaki Fuyuki, after we lost last year."
"Fudou, cry as much as you need now—after crying, recover and rise again! The dreams I did not fulfill, from now on... will wholly be handed over... to you!!!"
At the end of this sentence, Yoshinaga Kentarou couldn’t restrain his emotions, tears burst forth; wiping his tears clean with his sleeve, he called his teammates together:
"Let’s go, line up— as the losing side, we mustn’t lose our manners before the winners."
Amidst the audience’s warm applause, Yoshinaga Kentarou led his teammates to line up beside the ho plate—looking across from this perspective, he could clearly see the uncontainable smiles on each Waseda Real player’s face.
Quite enviable indeed...
"Ga over, Nihon University No. 3, 1:2, Waseda Real, the winner is Waseda Real, salute!"
As soon as the umpire’s words fell, everyone in the field simultaneously removed their caps, loudly shouting to the opposite team:
"Thanks for the guidance!!!"
Taking nearly three hours, this protracted West Tokyo Conference final finally ca to an end—Waseda Industries secured the Sumr League ticket for the second consecutive year, stepping forward towards their aim of spring and sumr dominance.
After the post-match tribute ended, players from both teams approached each other, shaking hands and hugging to express their respect for the opponent.
"You played really well... Wishing you success in your upcoming Sumr League journey!" Yoshinaga Kentarou found Lin Guanglai, extending his right hand.
"Thank you." Lin Guanglai extended his hand too, warmly grasping Yoshinaga Kentarou’s extended right hand.
Apart from this word of thanks, he said nothing else—it’s best not to say too much now, or it might seem like flaunting superiority over the opponent.
"If you don’t mind, could we exchange caps?" Yoshinaga Kentarou smiled, handing his cap to Lin Guanglai.
Having completed the last ga of his Takayama career, digging soil from Koshien is unlikely, but Yoshinaga Kentarou wanted to keep sothing for himself as a nto.
After exchanging caps, Yoshinaga Kentarou looked at the white cap in his hand and suddenly laughed:
"Don’t be ashad for laughing, Lin, but before this match, I genuinely believed our Nihon University No. 3 could be the Sumr League champions."
"However, it seems now I might have overthought."
Yoshinaga Kentarou extended his hand, patting Lin Guanglai’s shoulder, encouraging him:
"Make sure to play well at Koshien—having defeated our Nihon University No. 3, I expect not to see you eliminated in the first round!"
"If possible, win the spring-sumr double for West Tokyo!!!"
Lin Guanglai nodded: "Don’t worry, Senior Yoshinaga, we will strive wholeheartedly to achieve this goal!"
Watching Lin Guanglai’s departing figure, Yoshinaga Kentarou muttered the words he couldn’t say aloud:
"At least, if you achieve that, it might make feel a bit better..."
Thinking this, Yoshinaga Kentarou swiftly shook his head, clear of the complex emotions in his mind, turning back, calling to his teammates:
"Alright everyone, stop with the gloomy faces—let’s line up and thank those who’ve tirelessly supported us!"
After the cheering squad appreciation ended, Nihon University No. 3 players tidied their scattered equipnt and left Shengong Stadium under the guidance of their supervisor.
Before entering the player’s tunnel, Yoshinaga Kentarou stood at the back of the team, looked back once, then turned away without looking back.
Goodbye, Yoshinaga; goodbye, Nihon University No. 3.
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