This meeting with Grandpa Fujiwara was unexpected for Takashi —but a pleasant surprise nonetheless.
The Fujiwara family is a political dynasty, and their influence in politics goes without saying.
The top contenders for the next Prime Minister are Chika's father and Ayanokoji Kiyotaka's father.
That was also why Takashi gave Ayanokoji some face last time in the garage.
"In business, one must understand politics. In politics, one must work with business."
Takashi wasn't sure how things worked in the Japanese business world, but in his home country, companies had to maintain good relations with those in power.
"Young Master Takashi, we've arrived at the Nishifuroka Hotel."
As Takashi was mentally reviewing his conversation with Grandpa Fujiwara, he didn't even realize the car had stopped.
The driver reminded him.
"Oh, right. Sorry to trouble you."
Takashi came back to his senses and gave the driver a friendly smile, his demeanor polite.
Even if the other party was "just a driver," this was someone who had made it through layers of strict screening.
Takashi never looked down on someone just because they drove a car.
"Let's go, let's go!"
Chika perked up upon hearing they'd arrived and pushed him out of the car.
"Young Master Kitahara, what time will the banquet end?"
Takashi thought for a moment. "I'll message you when it's close to over."
To celebrate winning the Koshien championship, the school's board members were attending, and they'd booked the five-star Nishifuroka Hotel to host a banquet for the Aoba baseball team.
Dinner started at six, and afterward there was karaoke. As for when it would all end, Takashi didn't know how long everyone would party.
"Understood."
The driver nodded. Urged once more by Chika, Takashi finally entered the hotel.
There were no paparazzi at the entrance—it had been thoroughly cleared.
The moment he stepped in, even before he could say anything, a staff member recognized him and led both him and Chika inside.
The hotel's main hall was stunningly luxurious.
Golden and silver lighting glittered across thick columns and chandeliers, dazzling the eyes.
The high ceilings gave a spacious feel.
Snow-white gypsum statues imitating Western deities—one male, one female—stood solemnly by the wall.
The banquet was already in full swing, lights bright, the atmosphere festive.
No words could fully describe the grandeur of the hall.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, and long tables were lined with a variety of dishes.
As the main doors creaked open, everyone inside instinctively turned to look.
"Well, well, well—look who finally showed up!"
"Isn't that our very own Mr. Billion-Yen Aoba?"
"Billion? Try ten billion!"
"Making everyone wait—you sure know how to make an entrance!"
As soon as Takashi appeared, the entire banquet hall erupted with noise.
His classmates jeered and joked.
"The main character's always the last to arrive, isn't he?"
Takashi wasn't someone to get stage fright in front of fifty thousand people—naturally, he walked confidently toward the center of the banquet.
Standing there were the principal of Aoba and several board members.
"Young man, you've done excellently."
The principal was the first to approach, warmly shaking Takashi's hand.
It wasn't the first time they'd met.
Aside from seeing him from afar during the opening ceremony, the principal had also been present on his interview day.
That memory stirred something in Takashi .
"Principal, do you remember what you asked me during the interview?"
The principal paused, then smiled after a brief thought.
"What can you bring to Aoba?"
That had been his question back then—posed spontaneously, intrigued by how calm Takashi had appeared.
Takashi smiled confidently and pointed toward a banner at the banquet: "That's what I've brought to Aoba."
Everyone instinctively turned to look where he pointed.
The championship banner fluttered in the air, silently proclaiming the glory he had brought to Aoba.
Looking at the deep crimson and navy flag, all members of the baseball team straightened their backs with pride.
Especially the seniors.
After this year, they will graduate.
New students would arrive in waves, the legacy would continue—but their time on this stage was ending.
Perhaps in three years, five years, no traces of them would remain in this school. It would be as though they were never here.
But that championship banner would tell future generations what a beautiful journey their predecessors had given Aoba.
Aoba might have new legends in the future, but they were already Aoba's legends.
"I'm truly grateful that you chose Aoba."
The principal gave Takashi a deep bow.
The other board members also gave him slight bows of respect.
It was no longer Aoba that had chosen Takashi—it was Takashi who had chosen Aoba.
Without him, there would be no crimson banner.
What he brought wasn't just a summer Koshien championship.
Heritage is the foundation of a school.
True cultural strength is the mark of a mature and powerful institution.
Standing on the foundation of rich culture and honor, a school can chart its blueprint for development.
Aoba didn't lack cultural depth.
What it lacked was glory and medals.
A school doesn't exist apart from society; it needs public attention and strong social connections.
And the most measurable standard of a school's success is often these medals and honors.
The more awards, the stronger the school's public image—and the higher its reputation.
More glory means more excellent students.
And top students are critical to a school's success.
For many parents and students, the criteria for choosing a school can be vague—so good marketing, and hard "currency" like honors, makes all the difference.
"It's my honor to have chosen Aoba."
Takashi gave a respectful nod.
He was fortunate to have chosen Aoba.
His success wouldn't have been possible without the school's support, the coach's indulgence, and the trust of his teammates.
If he had gone to another school—like Shuchiin, for example—even if he had the ability to be a starter, they wouldn't have let him.
And with his personality, he would've been ostracized.
Because he was poor.
And poor people don't fit into the circles of the wealthy.
If he had gone to Shuchiin, he'd just walk the same path as Shirogane Miyuki—excluded, friendless, eating alone.
That wasn't what Takashi wanted.
After shaking hands with the principal, he went on to shake hands with the board members.
Aoba's board members were from the Five Regent Families.
He didn't see Hitomi—in her place stood a middle-aged woman. He had no idea where Hitomi had gone.
Once the greetings ended, the adults left the hall to the students.
Only then did the banquet officially begin.
"Takashi, why did you bring her?"
Narii was the first to rush up, eyes full of vigilance as she stared at Chika.
Before Takashi could speak, Chika grinned mischievously. "Good evening, Aunt Narii~"
"I'm not your aunt! Your whole family are aunts!"
Narii flared up, ready to charge.
"Uncle! Auntie is bullying me!"
Chika darted behind Takashi, using him as a human shield.
The two circled around him a few times, with Narii unable to catch Chika.
Frustrated, she stomped her foot. "You little brat, get out here!"
"Bleh~!"
Chika stuck out her tongue from behind Takashi, then wrapped her arms around his waist with a teasing voice, "Uncle~ Auntie's so fierce. I'm scared~"
"Touch Takashi again, butterfly hippo, and I swear I'll chop your hand off."
Narii was burning with anger. Any pretense of being ladylike was gone as she hurled insults at Chika.
"Hippo… Hippo?!"
Chika trembled all over. Despite the summer heat, her hands and feet were ice cold.
There isn't a single girl who doesn't care about her weight.
Like Adagaki Aki, Chika loved to eat. But unlike Aki, who never gained weight, Chika did.
She exercised regularly—not out of passion, but fear of getting fat.
And now Narii had struck her where it hurt most.
"Where do you see fat?!"
Furious, Chika pushed Takashi aside and confronted Narii head-on.
"You're not fat?"
Narii gave her a once-over, pinched her belly, and sneered,
"From the front, no ears. From the side, no nose. You stand in front of me and I'd think the Mountain Demon—Pogon—just broke its seal."
"You sit down and the whole of Tokyo feels the tremor."
"Can you even see your toes when you look down? Or are they blocked by your stomach?"
Chika looked like she was about to cry.
Takashi quickly covered her mouth. "Don't listen to her nonsense. You're not fat—just slightly chubby."
"Plenty of guys love girls like you."
"Really?"
Chika looked up at him, eyes teary.
"Would your uncle lie to you?"
Seeing Otani Shota watching with popcorn in hand, Takashi grabbed his tray and shoved it into Chika's arms.
"Go eat to your heart's content."
With Takashi's gentle coaxing, Chika sniffled and wandered off with her food.
"You—why are you picking fights with her?"
Once Chika was gone, Takashi let go of Narii and scolded her, clearly annoyed.
"She's always getting close to Shinomiya Kaguya. I don't like her. You should stay away from her too."
Narii turned away with a pout.
Takashi rubbed his forehead in frustration. Just then, Tanaka Kota kindly offered him a glass of lemon water and gave him a sympathetic look.
Too many women—too much hassle.
Takashi took a sip and began chatting with the baseball team.
"Our club budget's probably going to increase next year, huh?"
"Winning the summer Koshien—rumor is we'll even get bonuses. Maybe five or six hundred thousand yen per person."
"Whoa, that much?"
Through the conversation, Takashi finally realized—there was prize money for winning championships.
This bonus wasn't the same as a scholarship, but it would be distributed together with it.
It was the school leadership's way of thanking everyone for their efforts.
In addition to that, all expenses incurred from attending the competition—including those of accompanying family members—would be reimbursed, and club subsidies could also be claimed.
Private Aoba Academy didn't lack money. What it lacked was achievements and honor.
"Kitahara, come over here."
While everyone was chatting happily, Takashi was casually eating food fed to him by Narii, when he heard Amatani Kensuke call out to him.
He turned his head and saw Amatani waving at him from a short distance away. After saying something to Narii, he walked off.
"Let's find a quiet spot to talk."
Amatani seemed to have something personal to discuss and suggested they go somewhere private.
"Sure."
They walked all the way to the second-floor balcony. Once there, Amatani pulled out a can of beer from his pocket and handed it over. "Ever had this before?"
"I have."
Takashi didn't hesitate. With a crisp pop, he opened the can and clinked it with Amatani's.
"I'm planning to resign."
Amatani leaned against the railing and spoke calmly.
Takashi paused, looking over at him.
"Because of me?"
The conflict between them hadn't been resolved—just shelved.
At the time, with the championship within reach, anyone with a bit of sense wouldn't start a fight then.
Now that they'd won, it was time to face the unresolved matter.
Who would lead Aoba's baseball team?
"No."
Amatani smiled and shook his head.
Takashi stared at him silently.
After a moment of eye contact, Amatani gave in. "Okay, I'll admit—part of it is because of you."
"If it's because of me, I can leave."
Takashi took a sip of beer and spoke calmly.
"Aoba baseball can go on without—"
"You can't leave."
Amatani cut in, serious. "If you leave, the Aoba baseball team is finished."
Takashi chuckled. "Coach, you're exaggerating. Wasn't Aoba baseball functioning just fine before me?"
"That's because they'd never stood on the summit."
Amatani stared at him, enunciating every word. "Once someone tastes that, they either fall fast—or keep climbing."
"Aoba's baseball team can do without anyone—but not without you, Takashi ."
"You're the core of this team. Its soul."
Takashi had awakened Aoba's thirst for victory.
He was like the alpha leading the pack.
That's why Amatani was stepping down.
Even if he didn't step down, he couldn't win against Takashi.
Because Takashi had led them to a championship.
During his own coaching tenure, Amatani had never won a single title.
"Coach, even someone as strong as me needs teammates."
Takashi gave a bitter smile, gazing up at the night sky.
In a big city, you could only see the moon, never the stars.
"I can win once or twice, but I can't keep winning forever."
Amatani understood his concern.
"I know. Staying the course is hard."
Choosing to endure seemed simple, but it was the hardest path of all.
To fall from the peak and climb back again—it was a grueling journey.
"But that's what makes it worth it, isn't it?"
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