The final whistle had barely faded into the noise of the crowd before the field began to change around Green, with players from the next quarterfinal already waiting near the edge of the Rec while several spectators moved closer to the fence as the organisers started clearing away bottles, checking the goals, and calling for the next teams to stay off the pitch until everything was ready.
Green did not stay on the field, lest the pain of the loss triple.
It was their last time on the pitch, and they did not want to linger any longer than necessary, although they probably could not have stayed even if they had wanted to.
Masaki had already removed his gloves and was walking toward the edge of the field to a woman who might have been his mother, while Hikaru stood with both hands resting against his hips, staring toward the goal where Gold had scored their second.
Daizen was still talking about the final minutes with Kiyoshi, although neither of them seemed particularly interested in proving the other wrong anymore, and Takeru had already started gathering the bags that had been left beside the fence.
Haru remained near the centre circle for a moment longer.
The field beneath his boots was flattened from the game, marked by dozens of studs and the faint trails left by players changing direction, and he could still remember where he had been standing when Green’s goal went in, where he had chased the loose ball, and where Gold had begun pulling them apart after taking control of the match.
He looked toward the opposite side and noticed Gold were already gone, probably back at the futsal court waiting on the semifinal.
Their voices had disappeared into the streets, and the tournament had moved on without waiting for either team to make peace with what had happened.
“Haru,” He turned and saw Kiyoshi holding out a green bib.
“You forgot this.” he said, dangling the bib in front of Haru.
Haru looked down at himself and realised that he was still wearing it.
“Oh, I forgot about it.”
Kiyoshi laughed,”Were you planning on keeping it?”
“No, I don’t want a constant reminder of the lead we blew.”
“Yikes. That’s a land mine.”
The bib was damp with sweat, and Kiyoshi carried it toward the organisers along with the other green bibs while Haru followed the rest of his teammates away from the field.
They passed through the opening in the fence, and the sound of the Rec changed immediately, becoming more distant as the crowd gathered around the next game.
Someone called out that the second-last quarterfinal would begin soon, while another voice shouted for the players to clear the walkway.
Behind him, the two teams waiting for the next match were already taking their places, and the first few balls were being passed between them as they warmed up, but Haru had seen enough football for the moment.
His legs were heavy, his shirt clung to his back, and it did not help that his stomach was empty.
He thought about the game and what could have been done to prevent the loss.
Losing to Gold had not become any easier simply because the tournament had moved on to the next game.
He remained stuck on the what-ifs, replaying moments that could no longer be changed, wondering whether a different decision here or a different movement there might have kept his team in the tournament.
Eventually, however, the thoughts began to lose their purpose as they had played their match and had given everything they had so there was nothing left for them to change.
“You hungry?” Daizen asked as he tapped Haru on the shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go get some food.”
“You buying?”
“Sure. Count it as a reward for the goal.”
They continued down the street with the others, their conversation dissolving into the noise of the afternoon as the Rec disappeared behind the buildings.
There wasn’t one left for him, because his team was out.
All that remained was to find somewhere to sit, drink something cold, and let his legs recover while the tournament continued without them.
Then Haru stopped and Daichi looked at him and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s go back to the futsal court.”
“Why?”
“I’ve got a friend to meet. We’ll grab food later.”
“No, I’m famished. I’ll just head home and save some money.”
“What about my reward?”
“Offer withdrawn,” Daichi replied before jogging away with a smile on his face.
Haru watched him disappear down the street before turning back toward the direction of the futsal court.
The futsal court was quieter than the Rec, though not quiet enough to feel empty, as Gold walked past with their bibs still on, a sign that they were still in the running.
They passed several of Rui’s teammates, who had settled around the court’s edges with food and drinks, while others lay against the fencing or sat on the concrete with their backs against the wall, all of them taking advantage of the break before they had to return for the semifinals.
Haru spotted Rui almost immediately, sitting with the others near the side of the court, one knee raised while he ate.
The conversation around him carried the loose, unhurried rhythm of people who had already played their match and were simply waiting for the rest of the tournament to catch up to them.