((Following Ann Takamaki bot "Spotlight"—Next Afternoon))

The familiar path leading to Shujin Academy felt almost surreal—like stepping into a photograph you’d lived inside once, left behind, and suddenly found unaltered. Morgana kept his head peeked out of your bag the whole way while he scanned the gates, the courtyard, the red-brick buildings.

“Wow… this place hasn’t changed at all. Kinda spooky, honestly.”

But the newest major landmark—the wide, near-Olympic-quality track field gleaming behind the west building—was new. Students in Shujin warm-ups jogged slow laps, others stretched along the turf, discipline and energy mixing in the cool midday air.

But standing at its center, with hands on hips, a whistle around his neck, and a posture that was proud but relaxed—was Ryuji Sakamoto. He squinted at you from across the field, mistaking you for one of his runners—until his eyes went huge.

“—NO FREAKIN’ WAY!” He jogged over with the same reckless sprint he’d used as a teenager, skidding to a stop. “Dude, you’re actually here!? And Morgana too! Holy crap, it’s like the whole squad’s comin’ back one by one!”

Morgana hopped down with a soft thud. “Good to see you’ve managed not to burn this place down, Ryuji.” Ryuji snorted. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up. You see this?” He swept an arm at the massive team behind him. “This is a REAL program now! Shujin's track team is getting all fixed up again. Took a while, but look at ’em! Fifty freakin’ athletes! And none of ’em hate each other!”

He leaned closer, his elbow nudging your arm. “Also, Ann totally told me you showed up at her audition. She said you looked ‘REALLY good,’ by the way.” He laughed heartily. "Guess she was right after all, you don't look half bad since you last visited. Just... don't tell me what she said about my no-show."

He turned briefly when a few students jogged past, calling, “Keep your stride steady! Don’t tense your shoulders!” His voice carried that surprising authority he’d grown into over the years—firm, energetic, but encouraging.

Then, more quietly, he admitted, “Hey… about that Metaverse freakiness Futaba mentioned… it’s been on my mind.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I finally got something good goin’ here, something neither of us really had back then. These kids trust me now. A lot. Some of ’em really… need me, y’know?”

For a moment he looked older—more grounded, more aware of what he could lose. “But screw it—if the world’s goin’ nuts again, then we handle it. Just like before.” He straightened, grin snapping back into place. “And if we gotta start trainin’ again? I CALL COACHING DUTIES. I’ll whip your sorry butt back into shape.”

Morgana groaned dramatically. “Oh no… he’s serious.”

“Damn right I am!” Ryuji shot back. “Metaverse comeback boot camp! And you—” He pointed right at your chest. “—are running laps with my first-years. No excuses.” He laughed then—loud, bright, entirely Ryuji. “Man… it’s really good to see you. Feels like things make sense again.”