CHAPTER 54: THE QUIET DESCENT

The return journey from the mountain training camp was quiet—eerily so.

Unlike the laughter-filled ride that brought them there days ago, the bus now hummed with the low rumble of tires against asphalt and the soft breathing of sleeping players. Outside, the late afternoon sun filtered through the windows, painting golden stripes across seats, faces, and backpacks.

Dirga had collapsed into his window seat the moment he boarded. The exhaustion wasn’t just in his body—it seeped deep into his bones, his soul, his thoughts. He didn’t even try to talk. The adrenaline from the tournament games, the high of that final dinner, the warmth of the onsen—all had melted into a gentle drowsiness.

He rested his forehead against the glass. It was warm.

The mountains faded behind them now, replaced by endless roads, utility poles, and signs for small towns. As the world passed by in a blur, Dirga’s eyelids drifted shut.

For the first time in a long while, he slept without dreaming.

...

By the time the bus rolled to a gentle stop in front of Horizon High School, the sun had begun to sink low, casting a soft orange glow over the familiar gates and concrete buildings.

Students stirred.

Yawns echoed.

Bags rustled.

Some players stretched and groaned like old men; others simply leaned into the quiet, not quite ready to return to reality. The buzz of the city—cars, bikes, footsteps—felt foreign after days of wind in the trees and sneakers on hardwood.

Dirga stepped off the bus last, his duffel slung over one shoulder, eyes still half-lidded with sleep. The low rumble of the engine faded behind him as his shoes hit the familiar pavement of Horizon High. The air was tinged with warm asphalt and city wind. Above, the sky was a tapestry of soft purples and oranges, the sun dipping just past the rooftops.

A moment later, Takeshi-sensei and Aoi descended as well, stretching their limbs after the long ride. Takeshi moved with purpose, patting his pockets and fishing out his car keys.

"I had my car parked here ahead of time," he said, nodding toward the staff lot. "I’ll take you both home."

Before they could leave, a voice called out across the lot.

"Before we go our separate ways," Coach Tsugawa said, stepping forward with his trademark whistle swinging from his neck, "Horizon team—tomorrow’s a day off. Rest well. You’ve earned it."

"Same goes for Toyonaka," Coach Reina added with a relaxed smile, arms crossed over her chest. "Day off. Recharge."

A quiet cheer ran through both teams, tired but satisfied.

Coach Tsugawa turned to Coach Reina and offered his hand.

"We’ll see each other again."

"In the tournament," Reina replied, clasping his hand firmly.

Their handshake was more than formal—it was a promise. A clash was coming.

With that final exchange, the players began to scatter. Some walked off with teammates, others were picked up by waiting family. One by one, they returned to their regular lives—forever changed, but still grounded in the rhythm of the everyday.

Dirga stood silently for a moment, watching it all. Then, with a breath of cool twilight air, he followed Takeshi and Aoi to the car.

The ride home was quiet—peaceful.

...

Morning came faster than Dirga expected.

His body ached all over, sore from every muscle used during camp. As he rolled over in bed, he groaned. His eyelids felt glued shut, and his blanket had never felt warmer or more inviting. Every part of him begged to stay still.

But today was Monday.

And after five days off school, skipping another day wasn’t an option.

With a deep, painful sigh, Dirga forced himself out of bed. The usual routine—shower, uniform, breakfast—felt like running a marathon. Even the walk to school was sluggish, like trudging through sand.

Once in class, Dirga realized just how drained he was. He couldn’t focus. The words on the blackboard might as well have been in a foreign language. Every subject dragged, every period stretched longer than it should. He barely had the energy to keep his eyes open.

But finally... the bell rang.

School was over.

No club activities today.

No energy for anything.

Dirga decided to just go home, recharge, and maybe sleep off the exhaustion.

But fate had other plans.

Just outside the school gates—he saw her.

Ayaka Minazuki.

Time seemed to slow.

Dirga froze, eyes widening slightly. Ayaka’s presence hit him like a cold breeze—and not because of the weather. Then it hit him. The promise. Their second date. The call he never made.

He was so caught up in camp and training that he completely forgot to reach out.

Ayaka smiled at him. But it wasn’t just a smile. There was a certain... aura around her. A dangerous one.

Dirga swallowed hard.

He recognized this kind of energy.

Run.

His brain screamed it. Run now.

But his feet wouldn’t move. If he ran, it’d only get worse.

"You," Ayaka said with the calm danger of a Mortal Kombat fighter summoning their enemy. "Come here."

Dirga had no choice but to obey.

She started walking. Without a word, he followed. Their pace was casual, but the tension? Heavy.

They stopped at a convenience store. Ayaka headed inside without saying a word.

"So..." she finally said, arms crossed, leaning slightly toward him. "Not even a text?"

Dirga scratched the back of his head, guilty.

"Uhh... Sorry?"

Ayaka’s pout deepened. And it was dangerously cute.

Dirga nearly melted.

"H-how about... an ice cream?" he offered, voice desperate.

She didn’t reply. Just turned her head away.

Still, Dirga headed to the freezer aisle and grabbed a random flavor. He didn’t even know her favorite—so this was a gamble.

They ended up sitting near the riverside, the gentle water glinting under the late afternoon sun.

"I heard from Sayaka," Ayaka said, tone teasing. "You went on a trip, huh? Must’ve been so much fun~"

"It wasn’t a vacation," Dirga protested. "It was a training camp. We got destroyed every day. My body still hurts."

He launched into a full recap—stories of the practice, the scrimmages, the chaos of table tennis, the final matches, and even the legendary bathhouse karaoke battles. He talked with animated hands, his voice slowly gaining life again as he remembered how much it meant to him.

Ayaka listened in silence, occasionally licking her ice cream.

Finally, she turned to him with a small smirk.

"Okay. Now apologize properly."

Dirga sat up straight.

"I’m sorry, Ayaka. I should’ve called. I forgot, but I didn’t mean to. I’ll make it up to you."

"Hmph," she said.

But this time, the pout faded.

"Just don’t forget next time. And remember—you still owe me that second date."

"Got it."

They stood up, and as the sky turned golden-orange with sunset, Dirga walked her home. The silence between them was warmer now. Lighter.

After seeing her off, Dirga continued back to his own place. The soreness still lingered in his body, but his heart?

It felt a little lighter.