Leaving behind the subtly bittersweet "storm" at the airport, Ryota Kudo took a car back to the hotel alone.
Hiroshima's nightscape shimmered outside the window, but his thoughts seemed to have sunk into deep water.
What echoed in his ears was no longer Eri's bold "declaration" or Shizuka's teasing, laden with meaning, but Eiji Sawakita's casual yet immensely weighty words-"I've secured my ticket to the final."
He pushed open the hotel room door, and a mixture of disinfectant and exhaustion greeted him.
Under the hallway lights, a familiar figure leaned against the wall, his eyes behind his glasses filled with worry and heaviness-it was Kiminobu Kogure.
"Kogure?" Ryota's heart tightened, and he hurried over. "What are you doing here? You look awful. Is it Captain Akagi...?"
Kogure looked up and forced a smile when he saw Ryota, but it looked worse than crying.
He took off his glasses and rubbed hard between his brows, his voice hoarse. "Ryota... I just came from Akagi's room."
"Has the captain's injury gotten worse?" Ryota's heart plunged.
"No... it hasn't gotten worse." Kogure shook his head and put his glasses back on, helplessness filling the eyes behind them.
"He just went back to the doctor for a follow-up. The doctor said... the swelling is starting to go down, and the bruised ligament is healing too, but..."
He drew a deep breath, his tone as heavy as lead. "But the doctor said he's still nowhere near ready to play!
The risk from strenuous exercise is enormous. It could very likely cause another injury, or even... affect him in the future."
Ryota fell silent. The result was no surprise, but hearing it himself still felt like a block of ice striking his heart.
"But..." Kogure's voice grew agitated and worried. "But Akagi... he won't listen at