"What a match!"
"That high schooler was incredible—almost pulled off the upset!"
"Nagai's just too seasoned, though."
Hakuya slowly released the joystick, his chest heaving with a mix of frustration, exhaustion, and a faint, undefined relief.
He stood, bowing deeply to the screen and the audience.
At that moment, Kenta Nagai approached his station.
The man in the red-and-white cap showed no victor's arrogance.
He extended his hand.
"Great match."
His voice was sincere, laced with respect.
"You were the toughest opponent I've faced in this tournament."
"Your Andy has serious potential."
Hakuya, caught off guard, shook Nagai's hand.
Nagai's palm was broad, calloused from years on joysticks.
"Give it your all in the third-place match."
Nagai patted Hakuya's shoulder, flashing a smile.
"I hope we'll represent Tokyo at Budokan together."
With that, he turned, striding toward the winners' area, leaving a confident silhouette.
Together at Budokan…
Those simple words washed away much of Hakuya's disappointment like a warm current.
He straightened, fire reigniting in his eyes.
Right—there was still the third-place match.
He still had a shot!
In the third-place match that followed, Hakuya faced another semifinal loser.
After the intense battle with Nagai, Hakuya felt his mindset and skills had been forged anew.
He played with greater composure and confidence.
Lessons from Nagai—rhythm control, psychological warfare—seeped into his gameplay.
Andy Bogard, under his control, flowed seamlessly between offense and defense, seizing opportunities with precision.
Though the match had its challenges, Hakuya held firm control.
In the end, he won 2-0, securing the victory with relative ease.
When "K.O." flashed on the screen again, Hakuya exhaled deeply.
He'd done it.
The final Tokyo representative spot was his!
Standing, he bowed to the crowd, met with even louder applause than before.
This time, when The Television's female reporter approached with her cameraman, Hakuya was still shy but less flustered.
"Hakuya, congratulations on third place and qualifying for the nationals! How do you feel?"
"Thanks," Hakuya said, trying to sound calm for the camera.
"I'm thrilled."
"My opponents were tough. Earning a Budokan spot… it wasn't easy."
"I'll train harder for the nationals."
His voice was soft, but its resolve carried through the lens.
Meanwhile, at Sega's headquarters, the top-floor conference room buzzed with a different energy.
Takuya Nakayama reviewed the latest operations report, a grin breaking through.
The Television's tournament feature had boosted its sales.
Clips of the matches, edited for a late-night sports segment on a partner TV station, smashed viewership expectations.
The intense duels and players' focused expressions were infectious.
"Nakayama-san, Fuji TV's confirmed," a subordinate said, handing over a file, voice brimming with excitement.
"They've agreed to our proposal—partial live broadcasts starting from the quarterfinals!"
"Fantastic!" Takuya slammed the table.
This was the critical piece of his plan.
TV broadcasts would break the event out of gaming circles into the mainstream.
His eyes scanned the clippings, landing on a short interview with Hakuya and a feature on Nagai's "nationwide training" journey.
"Contact Fuji TV now—start the promotional hype!" he ordered.
"And with The Television, prioritize footage of Hakuya versus Nagai!"
"Push the 'dark horse high schooler' versus 'wandering warrior' narrative to spark buzz!"
"We need the audience to see stories, conflicts, the rise of grassroots heroes!"
His eyes gleamed, as if glimpsing the future of esports.
Days later, in Aomori City's coastal town, the afternoon sun lazed as before.
Daigo Umehara and his friends roughhoused near the electronics shop.
Suddenly, the shop's promotional TV blared rousing music and commentary.
"…Highlights from the Tokyo qualifiers!"
The screen showed Tokyo Tech's gymnasium.
Andy, in his Shiranui ninja garb, clashed fiercely with a red-capped, red-jacketed Terry.
Hakuya versus Kenta Nagai's semifinal!
The broadcast replayed Hakuya's stunning second-round counter, perfectly blocking a "Burning Knuckle" and unleashing a dazzling combo, slowed for effect.
Then it cut to the third round—Nagai's seasoned dominance, capped by a precise "Power Dunk" sealing the match.
The TV commentator roared with fervor:
"High school dark horse Hakuya! He blocks! He counters! Can he pull off a miracle?!"
"Oh, what a shame! Nagai's experience was just too much! He takes this thrilling duel!"
Daigo and his friends froze, abandoning their play, glued to the screen, hearts pounding.
They didn't grasp the complex moves, but the tense atmosphere and the raw impact of victory and defeat set their pulses racing.
The screen shifted to the tournament's logo and bold text.
The commentator's voice surged:
"Ladies and gentlemen, a historic moment approaches!"
"Sega's first Fatal Fury Esports National Finals!"
"This Sunday morning, live from Tokyo's Budokan!"
"Fuji TV will broadcast it live!"
"Don't miss this pinnacle of esports!"
Budokan… Fuji TV… live broadcast…
The words, paired with the flashing visuals and stirring music, hit Daigo's six-year-old heart like molten stones.
His eyes didn't blink, his small fists clenched unconsciously.
That high schooler, though he lost, was so cool.
He memorized the finals' time.
Sunday morning.
He had to watch.