The bus ride felt longer this time.
Nobody said much.
The usual arguments were gone. No pointless debates. No Yuma complaining about something every five seconds. Even Sora looked quieter than normal, staring out the window while buildings passed by in a blur.
The closer they got to the stadium, the heavier the atmosphere became.
Everyone remembered what happened last time.
Everyone remembered Aka.
Pambara sat near the back of the bus, hands resting on his knees.
His leg bounced constantly.
Not from excitement.
Nerves.
He was starting.
Actually starting.
Not filling in during practice.
Not sitting on the bench.
Starting.
"...You okay?"
Pambara looked up.
Yusuke sat across from him.
"...Honestly?"
"Yeah."
Pambara smiled weakly.
"...Not really."
Yusuke nodded.
That was probably the most normal thing Pambara had ever said.
The bus eventually slowed.
Then stopped.
Nobody moved immediately.
Hiroto stood first.
"Let's go."
One by one, everyone followed him outside.
The cool morning air hit immediately.
And there it was.
The stadium.
Not massive.
But larger than anything Southside usually played on.
Clean grass.
Proper seating.
Professional fencing.
Everything looked sharper.
More serious.
Yuma cracked his neck.
"...Good."
The team began walking toward the entrance.
Then stopped.
Because another team was already there.
Black jerseys.
Silver accents.
Calm expressions.
Nocturne Eleven.
The tension arrived instantly.
Theo Armand leaned against a railing casually while scrolling through his phone.
Marc Pelletier stood nearby talking with Noah Garnier.
Jules Caron laughed about something with Lucien.
Everyone looked relaxed.
Comfortable.
Like they weren't worried at all.
Then Yusuke spotted him.
Réservoir.
Messy brown hair.
Long nose.
Hands in his pockets.
Expression calm as always.
He noticed Southside almost immediately.
"...There they are."
Several Nocturne players looked over.
Yuma frowned.
"Still ugly."
Réservoir smirked slightly.
"...Still angry."
Before Yuma could reply—
another figure stepped forward.
Aka.
The conversation around the entrance seemed to die immediately.
Not because anyone told it to.
Because Aka naturally drew attention without trying.
His eyes moved across Southside.
One by one.
Hiroto.
Takumi.
Daichi.
Ren.
Tsubasa.
Yusuke.
Then—
Pambara.
Aka tilted his head slightly.
"...That's new."
Pambara immediately looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
"...H-hi."
Silence.
Aka blinked.
"...You're replacing him?"
Nobody answered.
Because everyone knew exactly who he meant.
Riku.
Aka's expression didn't change.
But something about him seemed disappointed.
"...Oh."
Just that.
One word.
And somehow—
that annoyed Yusuke more than any insult could have.
"...What's that supposed to mean?"
Aka looked toward him.
"...Nothing."
A pause.
"...You're weaker."
Instantly.
No hesitation.
No trash talk.
No smile.
Just an observation.
Yuma stepped forward.
"The hell did you say?"
Réservoir sighed.
"...He's doing it again."
Aka ignored everyone.
His eyes stayed on Southside.
"...The invisible one challenged me."
A pause.
"...You don't."
Yusuke clenched his fists.
"...We'll see."
For the first time—
Aka smiled.
Not a mocking smile.
Not a cruel one.
An interested one.
"...Good."
A stadium official called both teams inside.
The moment broke.
Nocturne began moving first.
Réservoir walked past Southside calmly.
Then paused beside Yusuke.
"...Try not to lose by more this time."
Yuma immediately shouted something that probably shouldn't be repeated.
Réservoir laughed lightly and kept walking.
Aka followed after him.
But before entering the tunnel—
he looked back once.
Not at Yusuke.
Not at Hiroto.
Not at anyone expected.
Pambara.
"...Interesting."
Then he disappeared into the stadium.
Silence.
The tunnel ahead felt darker now.
Longer.
Heavier.
Hiroto looked around at the team.
"...Forget last time."
Nobody responded.
Because nobody could.
The memories were still there.
The losses.
The humiliation.
Riku leaving.
Everything.
But eventually—
they started walking.
One step.
Then another.
Toward the field.
Toward the lights.
Toward Nocturne Eleven.
Toward Aka.
And as Southside emerged from the tunnel, the roar of the crowd hit them all at once.
The match was about to begin.