EP 002: Demon of The Field

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The roar of the stadium had morphed into a deafening, chaotic symphony of anticipation and predatory energy that hung heavy in the humid night air. On the pitch, the atmosphere was thick enough to choke on. The briefly celebratory spirit of the Inakuni-Raimon team had been vaporized in an instant.


Haizaki Ryouhei, the "Devil of the Field," stood at the center circle, a predatory glint dancing in his crimson eyes. His silver-grey hair whipped around his face, catching the harsh glare of the floodlights as he raised a single, commanding arm. He didn't need to speak loudly, the sheer gravity of his presence signaled the end of Raimon’s brief window of hope.


"Here it goes..." Mizukamiya whispers.


"Initiate the Death Zone," he commanded. His voice was a cold, surgical blade slicing through the stadium noise.




The execution was a masterpiece of dark synchronicity. Haizaki took the first touch, the ball sticking to his cleat as if magnetized, while two of his teammates streaked forward like twin shadows. With a sharp, practiced flick, Haizaki sent the ball soaring into the air, a high-arcing projectile that seemed to hang for an eternity against the black sky.






The three Seishou strikers leaped simultaneously, their silhouettes blotting out the stadium lights. They began to spin with terrifying velocity, their movements weaving a geometric trap in mid-air. Thin, jagged rays of violet energy snapped into existence between them, forming a perfect, vibrating triangle with the ball pulsating at its black heart. As the ball absorbed the swirling gravitational force of the void, his teammates prepared the volley, their bodies coiled like springs.








Haizaki ascended last, his shadow stretching across the entire Raimon half. With a ferocious, snapping kick, he connected with the center of the energy.






"DEATH ZONNE!"


The impact sounded like a thunderclap inside a vacuum. The ball screamed across the field, encased in a roiling sphere of destructive purple aura that left a scorched trail on the turf. The Inakuni-Raimon defenders, usually so gritty and resilient, stood no chance. As the dark projectile tore through their ranks, the sheer displacement of air sent players tumbling backward like dry leaves caught in the wake of a hurricane. "Ghraaaahhh!" They all hit the ground hard, the wind knocking them out before the ball even passed him.



Norika stood alone in the box. Her eyes were wide with a primal terror, her pupils reflecting the violet doom rushing toward her. She shook her head, a desperate sob of courage caught in her throat, and leaped forward with her arms outstretched. "Haaaaah!" 




It wasn't even close. The kinetic force of the technique blew her aside like she was weightless. The air around her hissed with ozone as she was thrown into the dirt. "Kyaaaa!!!"




The net shrieked, the white mesh straining to the point of snapping as the ball tore into the back of the goal. The referee’s whistle blew, a sharp, clinical punctuation to the violence.


"Seishou Academy has immediately caught up!" the commentator shouted, leaning so far over his desk he nearly toppled. "The legend of Teikoku’s forbidden fruit lives on in Seishou! The Death Zone has leveled the field!"


The scoreboard flickered, updating with a cold, digital finality: 1 - 1.




On the grass, the Inakuni players lay scattered like debris. Hanta struggled to sit up, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her uniform was stained with green and brown, and her breathing was a series of jagged wheezes. 


"This... this is a real hissatsu technique," she whispered, her voice trembling.


"It's so... powerful," Golem groaned, pushing his massive frame up from the turf. His arms were shaking, and a small trickle of sweat ran down his temple. "Urgh... it felt like a mountain hit me."




"Darn it..." Mansaku hissed, clutching his side. He tried to stand, but his knees buckled for a second. The pressure wasn't only physical, it was also an emotional weight that made every limb feel like it was made of lead.




A shadow fell over them, long, sharp, and cold. Haizaki stood a few feet away, a cruel, mocking smirk playing on his thin lips. He looked down at the islanders with pure, unadulterated disdain, his gaze moving over them as if they were nothing more than insects he had inadvertently stepped on.




"What's wrong?" Haizaki taunted, his voice dripping with an arrogance that felt earned. "The 'miracle' is over. Stand up, you nobodies. Or is this where the fairy tale ends?"


One by one, the Inakuni players forced themselves up. Their movements were slow and pained, but their eyes though shadowed with fear were still locked on the ball. 




"Yeah, that's right. Keep standing," Haizaki smirked, a low, guttural chuckle vibrating in his chest. "This match is just getting started. I haven't even begun to take this seriously. Kekeke~"




He turned his back on them, walking toward his side of the pitch with a chilling confidence that felt heavier than the 1-1 scoreline. Asuto watched him, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. He had never felt pressure like this, a crushing, suffocating realization that they were playing against a different species of athlete. But as he looked at the scorch mark on the grass, a small, stubborn flame flickered in his chest.




"That's the 'Devil of the Field,'" Michinari whispered, his voice steadying as he stepped into his role as captain. "Haizaki Ryouhei..."


"Now, the match resumes!" the commentator barked. "It's a tie, 1-1! Who will the Goddess of Victory smile upon!?"


The referee’s whistle signaled the restart. The ball was back in play, but the air had changed. It felt ionized, electric, and dangerous.




"We gotta do something quick... we can't let them set the pace!" Hiura charged forward, the ball at his feet. He tried to find a lane, a gap, anything.




But as he looked up, he felt an invisible weight pressing down on his shoulders. Seishou were suffocating the pitch. Every time Hiura moved, three Seishou players shifted in perfect unison, blocking his path like a closing trap. 







"This pressure... it’s like they're reading my mind!" Hiura hisses.


Michinari dashed forward, his eyes focused on the Seishou goal, trying to lead by example. 


"Captain!" Hiura saw a sliver of an opening and fired a crisp pass. Michinari trapped it and charged, but the pressure of Seishou was absolute. Before he could even pick his next move, three defenders swarmed him, their movements synchronized and silent. "Their pressure is too quick... I can't find a way out!"


The Seishou Academy's defenders feel Michinari's excitation, one of them dashes and slide tackles.


Michinari's eyes wide open and he jumps up, dodging the charge but suddenly, a blur of silver-blue flashed across his vision. Mizukamiya Seiryuu, the Seishou captain, intercepts the ball. He executed a low, sweeping slide tackle that was as elegant as it was devastating, popping the ball into the air and catching it on his chest in one fluid motion.


Michinari’s eyes went wide as he stumbled. "What the-"


Mizukamiya smirked, his expression one of calm, professional superiority. Without a word, he turned and sprinted, kickstarting a Seishou counter-attack that looked like a tidal wave.


"Go back! Everyone go back!" Michinari shouted, his voice cracking with urgency as he spun around to give chase.


"Okay!" Asuto nodded, his lungs burning like they were filled with hot coals. He sprinted after the Seishou captain, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. 


The Inakuni players retreated, their boots thudding against the grass as they braced themselves for the next assault. Asuto hissed a breath through his teeth, the lights of the stadium blurring into streaks of white. 


"So this is Seishou Academy..." he thought, his vision narrowing until only the ball and the shadows of the "Devils" remained. "They’re monsters. But we’ve come too far to be eaten. Losing isn't an option, not today, not ever!"







...







One Week Earlier.




The majestic, lightning-shaped tower of the new Raimon Junior High stood tall against a clear blue sky. It was a world away from the tiny island school they had left behind.


The Inakuni team stood there, looking around. Despite almost already seeing everything they could around the school, they gazes were once more everywhere, their necks sore from looking up.


"Woah..." 


The collective awe was audible. The school still looked like a high-tech fortress. The main structure rose like a futuristic palace, its architecture sharp and imposing against the blue Tokyo sky.


"The house mountain is huge!" Hiyori cried out, his neck craned so far back he nearly tumbled over. He pointed a shaking finger at the massive Raimon main building. "Gao! Is that where they keep the giants!?"


Asuto stood perfectly still, his hands gripping the straps of his bag. He stared at the surrounding skyscrapers that hemmed the school in, his eyes wide and reflecting the shimmering glass. "Whoa... I didn't think buildings could actually touch the clouds."


Goujin, never one to be outdone by a piece of architecture, puffed out his chest until his jersey threatened to pop. He planted his feet and looked around with a scowl that was 90% bravado. "Hmph! A true warrior must have built this stuff! Just look at it! This is supposed to be a school!? It looks more like a secret base for a superhero team!"


Norika let out a weary sigh, though a small, amused smile played on her lips as she adjusted her ponytail. "You three look like cavemen discovering fire for the first time. Try to keep your mouths closed, or you’ll catch flies. You are all still looking around despite us being here for an hour or so."


Michinari chuckled softly, adjusting his own bag. "Now, Norika-san, give them a break. It’s a lot to take in. It's a completely different world from the island."


"Sick place... right, Hiura?" Mansaku grinned, leaning back as he scanned the sprawling campus. "Wonder if the food here is as fancy as the walls."


"Yeah..." Hiura replied, his voice calm and melodic. He closed his eyes for a second, taking in the breeze that tunneled between the buildings. "It’s so cold and cozy around here. The city climax feels... different."


Hiro adjusted his glasses, the sunlight glinting off the lenses as he tracked the height of the clock tower. "Look at how tall these buildings are. It’s just like on television, but the scale... the scale is logically overwhelming."


"So much noise! And people! It looks like another planet or something!" Hanta chirped from her perch on top of Golem’s shoulders. 


Golem himself looked like he wanted to find a very large hole and hide in it. "Y-yeah... too many things going on at once," he rumbled, his voice shacking.


After a little bit of observation, they stood there looking at nothing with nobody sure of what to do.




"Ehem... Hiro cleans his throat. "I think we should be getting inside the Football Club."


"Yeah..." They nod.


"Alright, I'll going to do it." Norika cracks her fingers.


Norika stepped to the front, the team crowding behind her in a silent, expectant huddle. She reached for the handle of the double doors.


"Okay, let's see what the legendary club looks like!" she said, giving the handle a confident tug. 


*Clack.* The door didn't move.


"Eh?" Norika blinked. She gripped the handle with both hands, her goalie-strong fingers tightening.


She leaned back, digging her sneakers into the pavement. "Urgh!!!!" She pulled. 




"Mhmmm!!!" Her face began to turn a bright shade of pink. "Ghrrrrr!!!" 




The door remained stubbornly, mockingly shut.


"Ehehe... It's probably locked..." Hiro said, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish look. 


"Uhum!" The rest of the team nodded in synchronized realization.


Norika let go of the handle, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. She looked slightly disappointed, her shoulders slumping. "It won't open. I thought a legendary club would always have its doors open to the spirit of football."


"But this place is different from our own school, you know," Hiura added, looking at the security cameras mounted near the eaves. "Everything here is about protocols."


"Right! But I can already feel my energy shooting right up! Ahahaha!" Goujin bellowed, suddenly striking a series of bodybuilding poses in the middle of the path. "A locked door is just a challenge for the muscles of Goujin-sama!"




"Raise your skills instead, muscle head," Kozoumaru muttered, standing off to the side with his arms crossed. He looked entirely uninterested in the architecture or the door. "Vocal cords don't win matches."


"Eh!? Who do you think you are!?" Goujin roared, leaning into Kozoumaru’s personal space. "I’m the fireball of this team! You’re just... a grumpy boulder!"


"Guys, come on now..." Golem pleaded, waving his massive hands in a futile attempt to keep the peace. 


"Ai ai... these two," Norika smiled, shaking her head. 


As Goujin continued to bark at an indifferent Kozoumaru, a group of students walking along the nearby courtyard stopped to watch the spectacle. 




"Are those guys the new team?" one boy whispered to his friend, glancing at their slightly dusty duffels and simple clothes.


"Those?" the other replied with a snicker. "Are those hicks even able to play? They look like they got lost on their way to a farm."




Asuto looked around, noticing the growing crowd of onlookers. He could feel the judgment, the sharp cold air of the city that wasn't just in the weather but in the eyes of the people. "Tsk."


Suddenly, the crowd of students parted. A group of girls approached with a deliberate, rhythmic stride. At the center was a girl who radiated authority. Her strawberry-blonde hair was perfectly styled, and her eyes were sharp, evaluating every member of the Inakuni team with clinical precision.







"You must be the soccer team from Inakuni," she said, her voice cool and controlled.


"Oh?" The team turned, falling silent as they sensed the change in atmosphere.


"Yes, that's us. May I ask who you are?" Michinari stepped forward, his expression polite and open, performing his duties as captain with practiced ease.


"Anna Mikado." She stared at him, her gaze lingering on the worn fabric of his jersey. "As Student Council President, I overlook the management of all club activities at Raimon. Evaluating the new soccer team is also the student council’s responsibility." She placed a hand over her heart, a gesture that felt more like a statement of power than a greeting.




"Nice to meet you, Ms. Anna. I'm Michinari, the Inakuni Soccer Club captain." Michinari smiled warmly and extended his hand for a handshake.


A beat of silence followed. Behind Anna, the other council members laughed softly, whispering behind their hands. Anna looked down at Michinari’s hand as if it were a strange specimen, then back up at his face, making no move to take it.


"Hm..." Michinari slowly pulled his hand back, his cheeks flushing a faint red as he tucked his hand into his pocket.


The team’s eyes went wide. The disrespect was palpable, a cold slap in the face that stung more than the Tokyo's wind.


"Captain..." Mansaku whispered, his yellow eyes narrowing into a sharp glare directed at Anna. "What you have in looks, you don't seem to have in education. On the island, we actually teach people how to say hello."


"How dare you!" one of the student council members snapped back, stepping forward. "You’re lucky to even be standing on this campus!"


"Mansaku, just calm down. It's not a big deal," Michinari said, though his voice was tight. He placed a hand on Mansaku’s shoulder to hold him back.


Asuto stepped up beside Michinari, nodding firmly. "Calm down, Mansaku. We didn't come here to argue."


Mansaku let out a sharp huff and crossed his arms, but he didn't move forward again.


Anna continued as if the interruption hadn't happened, staring down at them with an icy indifference. "I'm here just to deliver a warning. If we find you untrustworthy or if your presence taints the reputation of this school, you will be kicked out immediately. A sponsorless team has no right to the name of Raimon."




"We are here to win." 


The voice was quiet but carried a weight that cut through the council's laughter. Asuto stepped forward, moving in front of his teammates. His expression wasn't angry, it was focused, his eyes locked onto Anna’s.


"Asuto..." Norika whispered.


One of the council girls hissed, "And you are...?"


"It doesn't matter who I am," Asuto said, his voice steady.


Kozoumaru looked away, a small, amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Heh... finally saying something useful."


"You nobodies sure are full of your-" the council girl started, but Anna raised a hand, signaling her to be quiet.


The girls fell silent instantly, stepping back. Anna stared at Asuto, her eyebrows twitching slightly in surprise.


"What matters is what we came here to do," Asuto continued. Behind him, the team began to nod, their individual worries melting into a single, unified front. "We are here to get back something they wanted to take from us. And we won't stop until we get it back."


Anna’s eyes narrowed. She sighed, a long, weary sound as she looked at the boy who dared to stare back. "Do you even know who your first opponent is?"


"Seishou Academy?" Asuto blinked, his eyebrows rising.


"The Seishou Academy," Anna said, the name sounding like a death sentence. "Their ace striker is known as the 'Demon on the Pitch.' Before you even catch his eye, he’ll plunder your team beyond the chance of recovery. That is how countless teams before you were broken."




"Big and bad monster!?" Hiyori squealed, shivering and hiding behind Golem’s leg.


"That... sounds intense," Golem whispers.


"The Demon on the Pitch?" Hiura asked, his voice curious.


"His name is Haizaki Ryouhei," Anna added.


"Now that you say it... I remember something," Hiro interjected, his voice dropping into an analytical tone. "Seishou Academy almost always wins their games by ten points or more. It’s a statistical slaughter. Very, very intense."


Anna gave a cold smile. "But you might be lucky. He only appears in every third game. Maybe you’ll get the luck of the draw and avoid him entirely."


"Luck is for the weak," Mansaku hissed, his competitive fire reignited. "Inakuni plays to win, not to get lucky."


"Uhum!" Hanta nodded vigorously. "We totally got this! Right, Golem?"


"Eh... I really don't know..." Golem scratched his head, looking more overwhelmed than ever.


Anna’s smile softened into something that looked dangerously like pity. "In any case, we’ll be observing what you’ve got in your first match. If you manage to beat the number-one ranked Seishou Academy... well, that’s a million-to-one chance. It would turn the football world on its head."




"Then we’ll just have to win and turn it on its head." Asuto replied, a proud, defiant smile breaking across his face.


Kozoumaru let out a long sigh. "That’s sarcasm for you, idiot. She’s calling us a joke."




The student council members laughed one last time as Anna turned on her heel. "We'll see," she called back over her shoulder as the group walked away, their heels clicking sharply on the pavement.




The team stood in the silence left behind, the excitement of the city replaced by a heavy, looming pressure.


"Tch, what a rude bunch..." Goujin hissed, kicking a loose pebble.


"Well," Michinari sighed, looking at his teammates. "Think about it from their point of view. We’re a bunch of bizarre hicks who just cracked into their school and claim to be as good as a legendary team. We aren't going to be accepted that easily."


"We don't need to be accepted," Asuto said, crossing his arms and looking toward the pitch where they would soon be training. "We just need to show our skills. That's enough to get us through."


"Guess that's the plan," Norika sighed, nodding in agreement.


"Oh! There you all are! Thank goodness!"


The voice was high and bright, coming from across the courtyard. The team turned back in unison. A girl was running toward them, her face flushed with effort and a wide, friendly smile on her face.




"You are the soccer team from Inakuni, right!?"


The voice was like a sudden burst of static in the quiet tension left behind by the Student Council. A girl, her hair bouncing with every step, skidded to a halt directly in front of them. She wasn't wearing the cold, polished expression of Anna, instead, she looked like she was about to explode with pure, excitement. Her eyes crinkled as she beamed at them, a smile so wide it looked like it belonged on a travel poster.


She pointed a finger at the group, her stance wide and confident. "That makes you guys the new Inazuma Eleven!"




The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of that name. For the kids from the island, "Inazuma Eleven" was a myth, a legend of fire and lightning that felt several sizes too big for their dusty cleats and salt-stained jerseys.


"Eh... That's a heavy title... eheheh..." Golem murmured, his massive hands reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. He shifted his weight, his large frame casting a long shadow over Hanta, who looked up at the girl with a skeptical squint.


Hiro adjusted his glasses, the sunlight glinting off the frames. He didn't look impressed at all. "I detected a slight hint of satire in her tone," he whispered, his voice clinical. "The probability of a genuine compliment from a stranger in this city is currently sitting at less than twelve percent."


"Bad girl! Ghrrrrr!" Hiyori growled, his voice a tiny, high-pitched rumble as he retreated behind Golem’s massive leg, peeking out with eyes that were wide and untrusting.


Mansaku didn't move, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looked the girl up and down, his yellow eyes sharp. "Are you here to make fun of us too? You city girls are all the same, all looks and no heart."


"We are here to play football!" Goujin roared, stepping forward until he was nearly towering over the girl. He hissed through his teeth, his face a mottled pink. "We didn't come across the ocean to be jesters for you guys to laugh at! If you want a comedy show, go find a theater!"


The girl blinked, her smile faltering for only a fraction of a second. She looked from Goujin’s angry face to Hiyori’s growling form, her head tilting in genuine confusion. "Eh? What did I say?"


"What are you guys doing!?" Norika suddenly shouted, stepping between the girl and her teammates. She turned on the boys, her hands on her hips. "Did you guys leave your manners back at the island? Along with your luggage? Stop acting like cornered crabs!"


Michinari stepped up beside her, his expression weary but firm. "Now guys, let's calm down. We can't judge people we don't know based on what happened five minutes ago. That’s not how we do things on Inakuni." He turned to the girl, bowing slightly in apology.


Asuto let out a long sigh, his shoulders dropping as the tension bled out of his frame. He looked at the girl, his gaze curious and soft. "Sorry for the mess. It's been a long day. Who are you, again?"


"Oh, allow me to introduce myself!" The girl didn't miss a beat. She snapped into a polite bow, her pigtails swinging forward. "My name is Ootani Tsukushi. It's a pleasure to meet you all! I’ve been following the news about the island, and I hope we can all give our best to win the upcoming Football Frontier!"




"Thanks... Nice to meet you, Ootani," Asuto said, a genuine smile finally breaking through his fatigue.


"Nice to meet you, Ootani-chan!" Norika added, her voice warm. 


She looked back at the boys, her eyes narrowing into a silent command. "Well? What are you waiting for?"


The boys shuffled their feet, looking at each other with sheepish, embarrassed expressions.


"Nice to meet you..." they mumbled in a disjointed, polite chorus. 


Mansaku scratched his head, his posture relaxing. "Sorry for the mean words. You’re kind of the only one giving us any encouragement in this place. We didn't exactly have the best reception when we walked through the gates."


"We were beginning to think Tokyo was made of ice," Hiura added, his voice melodic and calm as he offered a small, respectful nod. "Everyone looks so cold and distant..."


"Ooh! I get it!" Ootani nodded vigorously, her expression softening into one of understanding. "Football is kind of an intense topic around here. After what happened last year, things haven't been going as well as they used to for Raimon. People are... protective of the name."


"That's just more motivation to work even harder," Michinari whispered to himself, his fingers curling into a fist at his side.


"Hmmm..." Goujin suddenly leaned in, his nose only inches from Ootani’s face as he squinted at her. "So you’re our new teammate, huh? You look a bit small for a defender."


"Respect her personal space, man!" Hanta barked, grabbing the back of Goujin’s jersey and hauling him backward with a sharp yank.


"So what will you be helping us with, Ootani-chan?" Norika asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.


"Oh! Yeah! I'm-"


"Gao! O-o-t-a-n-i-chan play ball?" Hiyori asked, tilting his head so far to the side his hair brushed his shoulder.


"Eh... I mean..." Ootani started.


Asuto nodded, his eyes lighting up. "Are you supposed to join our team as a player? We could use another mid-fielder!"


"Ah-"


"Are you our trainer?" Golem asked, his voice a deep rumble of hope. "You’re really good with words, Ootani-chan. Much better than the guys shouting at us earlier."


"Mhmmm..." Ootani tried to speak, but the floodgates had opened.


"What position do you play!?" Goujin shouted, flexing his bicep. "You must be a striker, right? You’ve got that 'fire in the eyes' look!"


"Ootani-chan looks more like a tactician to me," Hiro interjected, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Probably a midfielder. You look like you have the cardiovascular capacity for high-speed transitions."


"Eh... wait..." Ootani looked around, her eyes wide as the entire team surrounded her, their questions overlapping into a chaotic buzz of island energy.


"Now let's calm down a little," Michinari finally intervened, his voice cutting through the noise. "We’re overwhelming Ms. Ootani. Give the girl a second to breathe."


"Sorry!" the team shouted in unison, quickly backing off and looking at their shoes in a sudden fit of embarrassment.


Ootani let out a long, theatrical sigh, but her eyes were sparkling with laughter. She put a hand over her heart and stood up straight. "It’s okay! I like the energy! But to answer your questions... I will have the honor of being the Raimon Soccer Club's Manager. I promise to do my absolute best to keep the club activities in perfect order!"


"Manager!?" The team gasped, their voices echoing off the stone walls of the courtyard. 


"Well," Hiura said with a thoughtful smile. "This is a prestigious school. I suppose it's normal for them to have someone managing the logistics."


"It sounds strange," Golem added, his brow furrowing. "A manager? Like a maid?"


"Just you for all of us?" Norika asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Back on the island, we had everyone's parents helping out with the uniforms and the snacks. Can you really do it all alone?"


"No, no! Don't worry!" Ootani chirped, waving her hands. "The managers from the previous team had to leave for other assignments, so as one of the new managers, I, Ootani Tsukushi, will support you along with a whole new team of managers!"


"A whole team!?" Norika’s eyes went wide. "I was thinking like... two people. Not a whole squad!"


"I'm feeling like a superstar already, hehehe," Mansaku smirked, leaning back and looking quite pleased with himself.


"What a luxury! Don't you think, Golem?" Hanta asked, giving Golem’s arm a playful punch.


"Eh... more people..." Golem murmured, his social anxiety flaring up again as he pictured a dozen managers staring at him.


"Oh yeah! I almost forgot!" Ootani clapped her hands together. "I came here to escort you! The Principal is waiting for you in his office!" She looked at the group, her eyes searching. "Who is the captain?"


"That would be me," Michinari said, stepping forward with a calm, composed air. "But you can just call me Michinari."


"Alright, Michinari-san! Follow me!" Ootani pointed toward the imposing main building, her energy acting like a magnet as she led them away from the clubroom.





...









The interior of the Principal’s office was a stark contrast to the high-tech hallways they had just traversed. It felt old, steeped in a history that smelled of aged paper, leather, and cedar. The walls were covered in framed photographs, faded images of teams from decades past, their faces filled with a raw, unpolished determination.




"So, you're the boys from the island," a voice rasped.


The Principal sat behind a heavy oak desk, his face lined with age but his eyes sharp and clear. He didn't look at them with the disdain of the Student Council, he looked at them with a strange, expectant hope. "I've heard your story. It’s a tragic one, but football has a way of turning tragedy into triumph."


He gestured to the room. "Please feel welcome here. Raimon is a place of legends, and I’m sure you will learn how to master your skills within these walls."


"Yes!" the team shouted in a perfect, booming unison that made the photos on the walls rattle.


"Never saw such a nice principal! Wow..." Hiro whispered to Goujin.


"Yeah! We’re so lucky! Ehehehe," Goujin giggled, his earlier anger completely forgotten.


"Shh! Quiet!" Norika hissed, elbowing them both.


Asuto took a deep breath. The office felt heavy, like they were standing in a temple. He looked at a photo on the wall, a boy with a bright orange headband holding a trophy high. There was a spark in that boy's eyes that Asuto recognized. "Heh..."


Michinari stepped forward, his expression becoming serious. "Sir, I have a question."


"Mhm?" The principal tilted his head.


"May I know... what happened to the original team? The ones everyone talks about?" Michinari asks.


The room fell silent. The Principal let out a long, heavy sigh and staid. "Yes. I should explain the task that our old Raimon Soccer Club has been given."




"Raimon has become a legend in the youth soccer world. They didn't just break the forty-year winning streak of Royal Academy."





"But also defeated Zeus Academy, a team that was considered invincible. They saved Japanese football." He added.





"Yes, they're an inspiration to all of us," Asuto said, his voice filled with a quiet reverence.


"There isn't a single player in this country who hasn't heard of them," Michinari added. "So... why is such an amazing team gone?"


"Right now," the Principal said, his voice growing firm, "the team is putting their efforts into helping Japan reach the world stage as the Football Reinforcement Committee Members."


"Hm?" The team gasped, the term sounding foreign and official.


"In order to raise the level of football across the entire country," the Principal said walking toward the large window that overlooked the school’s main pitch, "the members of the legendary Raimon team have been scattered. They’ve joined various schools throughout Japan, acting as pillars to support those teams and help them improve rapidly." He turned back to them, his silhouette framed by the Tokyo skyline.




"Oh!?" The realization hit them like a shockwave. The legends were now everywhere.


"The teams they’ve joined are gaining strength at an incredible rate," the Principal continued. "They are earning the right to participate in the Football Frontier with ease. I am impatiently waiting for the day when you will be able to play against those teams... against our own Raimon genes."


"Raimon... genes..." Asuto whispered, the words tasting like a promise.


"I expect that you all will not fail your mission," the Principal said, turning to face them with a warm, encouraging smile. "You are the ones who carry the name now. Do not let it falter."




"Yes, sir!" they shouted, though the weight of the responsibility felt like a mountain on their shoulders.


"Oh, one more thing," the Principal added, as if it were an afterthought. "Since you don't have a sponsor, you would technically be disqualified from the Football Frontier. Rules are quite strict about that these days."


The team’s hearts collectively stopped. 


"But fear not!" the Principal chirped, waving a hand dismissively. "The institution is already working on the process. It’s been delayed by some bureaucratic red tape, but you can expect everything to be finalized very soon!"


"EHHH!?" 


The scream of pure, panicked confusion echoed out of the office and across the silent, high-tech halls of Raimon Junior High.




...




After meeting with the principal, The team followed Ootani past a series of manicured lawns and training annexes that looked more like research laboratories than sports facilities. When they finally reached the main club building, it was a sleek, multi-story structure of glass and polished steel that made the small, locked wooden cabin they had seen earlier look like a historical relic.




As they stepped inside, the automatic doors hissed shut behind them, sealing them into a world of climate-controlled precision. The lobby was lined with trophy cases that glowed with a soft, blue light, housing gleaming silver cups and gold-plated soccer balls that seemed to pulsate with the echoes of past victories.


"Everyone, line up!"




The voice was a sharp, military bark that cut through their wide-eyed staring. A tall, impeccably dressed man stood in the center of the main hall, his posture so straight it looked painful. He had a clipboard tucked under one arm and an expression that suggested he had never laughed a day in his life.


The Inakuni players scrambled to find a spot, bumping into each other’s duffel bags before forming a somewhat jagged, awkward line.




The man adjusted his tie, his eyes scanning them like a general inspecting a group of fresh, slightly disorganized recruits. "Welcome to our school. I am Sub-coach. Kameda It is my responsibility to ensure the logistical and structural integrity of this team. Nice to meet you."


"Nice to meet you, sir!" the team shouted in a frantic, accidental unison. They caught each other's eyes immediately after, a few muffled snickers breaking out as they realized they had all reacted like a single hive mind.


Ootani stood off to the side, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled softly at their infectious energy.


"Alright," Kameda said, his face remaining a mask of stoic professionalism. He stepped to the side, gesturing toward the shadows of the inner corridor. "And this is your head coach. Mr. Zhao Jinyun."


A silence fell over the room. Out of the shadows emerged a man who looked like he had wandered out of a completely different story. He wore a traditional Chinese silk outfit, his round frame and gentle, mischievous eyes giving him the appearance of a jovial monk. He moved with a strange, light-footed grace that seemed to defy his size.




"Ohohohoho~" The coach let out a rich, amused laugh that echoed off the high ceilings. He fanned himself slowly, looking at the row of teenagers with a look of pure delight. "Everyone, at ease. Relax your shoulders! You look like you’re waiting for a doctor’s appointment."


Mansaku tilted his head, his yellow eyes wide with curiosity. "Our coach is..."


"Chinese?" Goujin blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. "I thought we’d get some old guy in a tracksuit with a whistle and a bad attitude."


"He’s... huge..." Golem whispered, stepping back slightly as the coach approached.


"G-o-l-e-m-san is huge too! Gao!" Hiyori giggled, reaching up to poke Golem’s arm before bouncing on his toes.


"Eh..." Golem let out a long, defeated sigh.


"As of this moment, you are all officially members of the Raimon Football Club," Sub-coach Kameda announced, his voice regaining its sharp edge. "This is a name that carries weight across the globe. You are expected to behave in a manner befitting that legacy at all times."




"Y-yes, sir!" the team responded, their voices filled with a new, sober sense of pride. 


Asuto looked down at his own sneakers, his chest swelling with a feeling he couldn't quite name. "We did it... we're actually here," he whispered to himself, his fingers curling into fists. "We can do it..."


"Alright! Enough talk!" Coach Zhao Jinyun clapped his hands together, the sound sharp as a gunshot. "The first step to becoming a team is looking like one. Go! Change into your uniforms!"




The players quickly dashed to the locker rooms, they were a marvel of modern design. Individual lockers with biometric scanners, benches made of high-grade carbon fiber, and a scent of lemon and ozone. But the team didn't care about the tech, they only cared about the bright yellow and blue fabric waiting for them.


As they pulled on the jerseys, the atmosphere changed. This wasn't the thin, faded cotton they had worn back on Inakuni. This material was slick, breathable, and felt like it hummed against their skin.




Asuto stood in front of a full-length mirror, staring at his reflection. The bright yellow jersey with the blue lightning-bolt trim seemed to glow. He ran his hand over the fabric, feeling the raised embroidery of the Raimon crest over his heart. "It’s so... it feels like it has a weight to it, even though it's light."


"Soft... It’s so slick and soft... Woah..." Hiura was slowly spinning in front of another mirror, watching the way the light caught the blue fabric of his shorts. He looked like he was in a trance, his usual calm demeanor replaced by genuine wonder.


"Gao! Hehehehehehe!" Hiyori was already a blur of yellow, sprinting in tight circles around the locker room benches. "H-i-y-o-r-i feel fast! The wind just goes right through it! Gao!"


"The quality is statistically superior," Hiro noted, adjusting his glasses and leaning in to inspect the stitching. "The drag coefficient must be incredibly low. It’s a masterpiece of athletic engineering."


"Eh... don't you guys think it's a little too flashy?" Goujin asked, though he was busy flexing his biceps in the mirror, clearly admiring the way the sleeves hugged his arms. "I feel like a giant lemon."




"It’s so cute! It looks like the deep sea!" Norika’s voice rang out from the adjacent changing area. She stepped out a moment later, her goalkeeper kit a striking contrast of dark blue and deep purple. She spun around, her hair whipping through the air. "It feels like an aquatic matchup! I love it!"




"This is so sick! I can't believe I'm actually wearing a Raimon kit!" Hanta’s grin was so wide it looked like it hurt. She adjusted her ninja-style mask, which now perfectly matched the blue of the uniform. "This is exciting, right Golem?"


"Yeah! They even got my size! And it actually fits!" Golem let out a rare, booming laugh, patting his stomach. For the first time, he didn't look like he was trying to hide; he looked like he belonged.


"This rocks! I can feel the energy already!" Mansaku was doing high-knee stretches, his cleats clicking rhythmically against the floor. 




Kozoumaru, meanwhile, was the only one not celebrating. He sat on a bench, stomping his foot against the ground to test the grip and durability of the shoes. He reached up, turning his collar up and adjusting the fit of the shirt until it sat exactly how he wanted it. There was a sudden, sharp intensity in his silhouette.




"Woah..." The team stopped their celebrating for a moment, staring at him. In the Raimon colors, Kozoumaru looked less like a grumpy teenager and more like a professional athlete ready for war.


"Tsk." He turned his back on them, ignoring the stares as he headed for the door.


Michinari looked at his hands, then at his teammates. "We... we are the Raimon Eleven."


The automatic door hissed open and Ootani entered, carrying a box.




 She stopped dead, her eyes sparkling as she took in the sight of the team in their full kits.


"Woah! You guys look... wonderful!" Her voice cracked. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, she quickly put the box down on a bench, sniffing and wiping her face with her sleeve. "Ah~ sorry! This just brings back so many memories. I used to watch the old team from the stands... seeing these colors again... it’s so emotional!"




"We're sorry to make you cry, Ootani-chan," Asuto said, stepping forward with a worried look. 


"Hahh... it’s okay." Ootani took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "We have to focus on the future, right? Hehe!" She slapped her cheeks to steady herself. "There is no time for crying at work! Now, I have something very important for all of you."


She opened the box, revealing eleven sleek, high-tech wristbands. They were matte black with a small, glowing LED screen on the top. 


"What are those?" Michinari raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering over the devices.


"These are mandatory for all players in the Football Frontier system," Ootani explained, handing them out one by one. "They are the Eleven Bands. Go on, put them on!"




The team snapped the bands onto their wrists. They felt light, almost like they weren't there, until the screens flickered to life with a soft blue glow.


"Woah..." 


"These bands do everything," Ootani said, her voice filled with a hint of pride. "They keep track of your heart rate, your stamina, and your exercise amounts. They can even receive direct tactical orders from the coaches during a match."




"So it’s like a tiny computer on our wrists?" Hiro asked, tapping the screen to see a graph of his current pulse.


"Exactly! It checks if you are overdoing it in training or if your physical condition is dipping. It’s here to protect you!" Ootani bowed politely.


*Beep. Beep. Beep-beep-beep!*


"WAA! What’s happening!? Did I break mine already!?" Goujin shouted, waving his arm frantically as the band began to pulse with a red light and a sharp alarm.


"We all broke ours!" Mansaku shouted as a chorus of beeps filled the locker room. 


"Yeah, they’re all going off!" Golem panicked, holding his wrist as if it were about to explode.


"No, no! It’s okay!" Ootani laughed, shaking her head. "It’s not a malfunction. That’s the signal from the coach! He’s calling us to the field! It’s time for your first practice!"


"Let’s go!" the team roared in unison, the anxiety of the "broken" bands instantly replaced by the thrill of the hunt. They surged toward the exit, their new cleats thundering on the floor.






...








The late afternoon sun hung heavy over the Raimon training field, casting long, dramatic shadows across the pristine turf. The air was still, save for the rhythmic *tap-tap-tap* of Sub-coach Kameda’s finger against his tablet. His left eye began to twitch with a life of its own. He gasps, leaning so close to the digital screen that his nose nearly touched it, before looking up at Coach Zhao Jinyun with an expression of pure, unadulterated horror.


Zhao Jinyun sat on a bench, a smug smirk plastered across his face as he fanned himself lazily. 


"Coach..." Kameda’s voice trembled with confusion. "I’ve been analyzing the training menu you uploaded, and... what on earth is this?! I’ve seen some unconventional methods in my time, but this? This is horrible! It’s not even a soccer menu!"




"Is that so? Ho ho ho!" Zhao let out a round, amused belly laugh, his shoulders shaking. 




Kameda blinked, his mouth hanging open. "Do you... do you actually have any knowledge of soccer at all? This looks like a list of chores for a very busy janitor!"


Zhao’s smirk turned into a playful taunt. He stood up, smoothing out his flashy tracksuit. "Knowledge? Just a bit. I told you before, Kameda-kun, I know far more about Kung Fu than I do about soccer. Now, enough talk. Watch this!"




"Eh? But-" 


Before Kameda could finish, Zhao exploded into motion. He was a whirlwind of silk and unexpected flexibility. "Hah! Hiya!" he barked, throwing a lightning-fast palm strike into the air, followed by a sweeping kick that sent a gust of wind whistling past Kameda’s ears. He bobbed and weaved, punching the air with a rhythm that had absolutely nothing to do with a soccer ball.




"H-hold on a second... what is the meaning of this!?" Kameda squeaked, frantically backpedaling as Zhao’s "powerful" Kung Fu moves came uncomfortably close to his nose.


Just as Zhao finished his demonstration with a dramatic pose with one leg tucked behind the other, fingers shaped like claws, the Inakuni team marched onto the field. They moved as a single unit, forming a perfectly straight line, their cleats clicking against the pavement.




"Oh, you are all here already," Zhao said, instantly dropping his fighting stance and flashing a beaming, mischievous smile.


"All eleven of us are present, sir!" Michinari stepped forward, his back straight and his expression grave, acting as the anchor for the group. 




Ootani scurried over to the coaches' side, clutching her clipboard and smoothing her skirt, looking back and forth between the eccentric coach and the terrified sub-coach. 


"Good!" Zhao’s smirk returned, sharper than before. He reached out and snatched the tablet right out of Kameda’s trembling hands. "Now, I will explain the training plan for next week’s game. I want you all to be prepared before we set foot in that stadium. Are you prepared?"




"Yes, coach!" they roared in unison. The sound echoed off the high-tech walls of the Raimon campus, a surge of raw, islander determination.


"Alright, let’s see here..." Zhao tapped the screen, his eyes gleaming.


"Day 1: Run 100 laps along the riverbank. That’s all for Day 1," he announced proudly.


The team’s collective jaw dropped. A heavy silence followed, broken only by the distant sound of a crow cawing. "Huh!?" they gasped, looking at each other in a panic.




"The match is in a week..." Hiro interjected, his fingers frantically adjusting his glasses. "Is running along a riverbank really going to help us against Seishou’s tactical blitz?"


"Is that enough?" Michinari asked, his brow furrowing. "We need to be working on our formations, surely?"


Zhao ignored them entirely, his finger scrolling down. "Day 2: Up and down Inazuma Hill 100 times."


"Eh?" The team flinched as if they’d been struck. Inazuma Hill was legendary for its steepness, 100 times was a marathon, not a drill.




"Day 3: Pull tires in Observatory Park for 100 laps," Zhao continued, his voice upbeat.


"Wha- " Golem’s eyes went wide, his massive hands twitching at his sides.




"Day 4: Gather 100 bags of trash per person in the shopping district."


"EH!?" This time, the cry was a scream. Hanta looked at her hands, imagining the smell of garbage instead of the feel of a soccer ball.


"Day 5: Dribble 100 laps around the outside of Tsurukame Park," Zhao finished with a flourish. He looked up and beamed. "And for the rest of the week... rest. That’s all, folks!"


"EH!?!?" The entire Eleven fell into a state of total shock. 




Ootani smiled awkwardly, her eyes darting around as she tried to find a way to justify this. Even her boundless optimism was hitting a wall. Kameda simply shook his head, looking utterly defeated by the lack of logic.


"Since you all just arrived here," Zhao said, his voice softening into a mockingly sweet tone, "I’m sure things will be tough. You won't fit in easily with the city life. I want you to adapt to this town as quickly as possible! That’s why you're going to the river, the hill, and the shops!"


He let out a long, theatrical yawn and turned his back on them. "Well, that’s it for the day..."


"CO-COACH!" they screamed, reaching out as if to physically pull him back.


Goujin stomped forward, his face turning a vibrant shade of purple. "You’ve gotta be kidding us! We want training that helps us win! Give us stuff for hissatsu techniques! Give us something that explodes!"




"Hmmm..." Zhao paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully without turning around. The team held its breath, staring at his broad back.


"Meh... no need to rush," he said with an indifferent shrug.


"But if we don't win the next match, we lose football forever!" Mansaku shouted, his usual cool demeanor snapping. "The island depends on this!"


"Coach, please... reconsider," Norika pleaded, her voice trembling with a mix of confusion and desperation.


"Hmm, I see," Zhao said. He finally turned around, his smirk replaced by a look of mock intensity. "Then let me ask you this. In order to keep playing football, what do you think you must do?"




"P-practice?" Hanta whispered, leaning forward.


"And then?" Zhao prodded.


"After we practice a lot, we’ll crush Seishou Academy!" Goujin shouted, slamming his fist into his palm.


"And then?" 


"We’ll get a sponsor and keep playing football until we're old!" Hiura added, his eyes burning.


Zhao started swaying his head back and forth like a pendulum. "Tick tock... tick tock..."


"Eh..." The team looked at each other, the momentum dying. They had run out of answers.


"And-" Asuto started, stepping forward with his chest out, ready to deliver a profound realization.


"WRONG!" Zhao shouted, the word exploding from his mouth like a cannon blast.




The whole team flinched, physically stepping back from the sheer volume. 


"H-i-y-o-r-i dont understand! Gao!" Hiyori scratched the back of his head, his hair standing up in even more directions than usual.


"What you need to do in order to keep playing football is..." Zhao lowered his voice until it was a deep, gravelly rumble. The Inakuni Eleven leaned in, their hearts pounding as they prepared for a legendary piece of wisdom that would change their lives.




"...IS TO NOT LOSE! HO HO HO HO HO!"


Zhao erupted into laughter, clutching his stomach as if it were the funniest joke in the history of the world.




A dead silence fell over the field. A leaf drifted lazily past Asuto’s face. Then, as if they were a set of dominoes, the entire team collapsed.


"What a clown..." Kozoumaru cursed under his breath. He picked himself up, brushed the grass off his knees, and simply walked away toward the clubhouse.


"GAHHH! What’s wrong with you, you fatty! Why are you toying with us!" Goujin screamed, springing up and lunging toward Zhao with his sleeves rolled up.




"Goujin-san! Calm down!" Hiro shouted, throwing his arms around Goujin’s waist and digging his heels into the turf to hold the hot-head back.


"Goujin! Stop it!" Norika yelled, waving her hands frantically.


"Eek! Goujin-sama is going all savage!" Ootani gasped, hiding behind her clipboard.


"Don't worry," Asuto said, slowly standing up and crossing his arms. He was looking at the ground, a strange, thoughtful light in his eyes. "He isn't... totally wrong."


"WE NEED WINNING TRAINING, YOU FATTY!" Goujin continued to roar, frothing at the mouth as Hiro struggled to keep him from committing coach-side assault.


"Goujin, let's calm down, please," Michinari sighed, placing a hand on the striker's shoulder, though his own expression was one of profound disappointment.


"Hohohoho! My training instructions are final! Good luck, little islanders!" Zhao laughed at their faces.




"And don't even think about skipping. The Eleven Band on your wrists will warn me immediately! If you stop moving, I'll know! Ho ho ho!"




His laughter echoed across the high-tech campus, leaving the Inakuni Eleven standing in the fading light, staring at their glowing wristbands with a mixture of dread and growing, frustrated annoyance.






...






The sun was a bruised purple smear against the Tokyo skyline by the time the Inakuni Eleven reached the end of their first "official" training day. The Riverbank, which had looked so scenic in the morning, was now a stretch of purgatory. 




"I-isn't there... something... really wrong with this!?" Goujin wheezed, his face a alarming shade of beet-red. His legs were shaking so violently they looked like jelly in a windstorm. Every step was a battle against gravity.


"Less... talking... more... breathing," Hiura gasped beside him, his usual calm composure dissolved into a puddle of sweat.




As the shadows lengthened, the team finally dragged their exhausted bodies away from the water. They moved through the narrow residential streets of the Kogarashi district like a line of ghosts, their cleats clicking hollowly against the pavement.




"I think I’m going to die..." Hiro hissed, his steps heavy and flat-footed. He adjusted his glasses with a trembling finger. "Who does... intense physical conditioning... right before a game against the national favorites? It’s statistically... suicidal."


"We came all this way just for this, huh..." Goujin sighed. For once, he didn't have the energy to shout. He just looked defeated, his head hanging low.


"Hah... but did you see those people?" Norika said, trying to find a silver lining. Her face was flushed, but her eyes were bright. "A lot of people in town called out to support us while we were running. They actually looked... hopeful."


"The Raimon uniform is sacred to these people," Michinari added, his voice thin but steady. "Just like Ms. Ootani said. We aren't just carrying our own dreams anymore. We’re carrying the history of this school."


Asuto suddenly stopped in front of a modest, traditional gate. "Here it is..."


The team looked up, and for the first time since landing in the city, the tension in their shoulders eased. Kogarashi Manor, a beautiful, two-story traditional Japanese house. The wood was a deep, warm amber, and the sliding doors were framed by meticulously pruned pine trees. It smelled of aged cedar and, more importantly, the faint, heavenly scent of simmering dashi.




"So this is where we’re staying, huh..." Mansaku murmured, looking at the stone path leading to the entrance.


"HOME!?" Hiyori’s eyes went wide with awe. He lunged forward, pressing his face against the polished wood of the gate. "Gao! It smells like... like the forest, but better!"


"Wow... it feels brand new! The wood smells so nice!" Norika smiled, her fatigue momentarily forgotten as she stepped into the entryway.


"This is my first time sleeping somewhere other than the island," Golem said, looking around the genkan with a sudden, nervous twitch. He shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other. "I don't even know if I can fall asleep in a place this... quiet."


"You’ll get used to it, Golem! We’re going to be roomies!" Hanta chirped, jumping onto Golem’s back. The massive boy stumbled but caught her with a laugh, his eyes crinkling. "We’ll stay up and plan our secret moves!"


Asuto and Kozoumaru stood near the back. Asuto looked at the manor with a soft, reverent gaze, while Kozoumaru simply leaned against the gatepost, his arms crossed.


"Not only do we get to play football again, but we’re actually in the Football Frontier," Asuto said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't think I ever would have dreamed about something like this... it feels like we’re finally moving."


"Tsk. We’re all toast if we lose, though," Kozoumaru sighed, closing his eyes. "A nice house doesn't win games."


"We will win, be sure of that," Asuto said. His voice was filled with a quiet, ironclad determination, though he kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, as if looking for a star that wasn't there yet.


Kozoumaru glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable.




"Are you the kids from Inagoonie?"


A kind-looking elderly woman stepped out from the hallway, leaning on a small wooden broom. She had a face like a wrinkled peach and eyes that twinkled with a sharp, grandmotherly wit.




"It’s Inakuni, grandma! Get it right!" Goujin shouted, his instinctive loud-mouthedness overriding his exhaustion.




"Goujin!" Norika barked, delivering a swift, stinging punch to his shoulder. "Behave!"


"We’re sorry, ma'am," Michinari said, stepping forward with a deep bow. "He didn't mean to be disrespectful. We're just a bit tired."


"Oh no, no, no, it’s okay," the woman chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "I did get the name wrong, didn't I? I’m not as good at remembering things as I used to be! My brain is like an old attic, lots of stuff in there, but hard to find the right box."


"Are you the landlady, Kazeaki-sama?" Hiura asked politely.


"Yep, Yone Kazeaki, but you can just call me Yone-san," she smiled, her gaze warm as she looked at each of them. "Now, come in, come in! It’s getting cold, and I won't have my guests catching a chill before their big debut!"


"Thank you for having us, Yone-san!" Asuto bowed.




"Thank you for having us!" the team shouted in unison, their voices filling the traditional halls with a life the manor hadn't seen in years.






...









Later that evening, the Manor was filled with the sounds of unpacking and the clatter of dishes. In the main living room, sitting on the tatami mats, a smaller group had gathered around the low table. Mansaku, Michinari, Norika, Hiro, were huddled together and Goujin sleeping like a rock, while Hiyori was in the corner, industriously trying to see how many times he could spin in a circle before falling over.


Mansaku held the worn photograph of the woman in the rose garden. "So this is what Hiyori’s... 'home' looked like," he whispered, staring at the unsettling contrast of the laboratory and the photo.


"This is really too much to understand," Michinari said, rubbing his temples. The weight of the captaincy was visible in the way he slumped. "A secret lab on our island? Abandoned for ten years?"


"We felt the same way when we found it," Hiro said, adjusting his glasses. The lamplight reflected off the lenses, hiding his eyes. "Hiyori’s mother... if she was from the mainland, she could be in a city just a few miles from where we’re sitting. The statistical probability is staggering."


"It’s insane," Norika whispered, looking over at Hiyori. "He’s been carrying this around the whole time."


They all turned to watch the boy. Hiyori was currently running after his own shadow, his energy seemingly infinite. 


"We need to listen to him more," Hiro said quietly. "He more that a wild kid, He really is a survivor."


"Yeah," Michinari agreed, his gaze distant. "He’s been thinking about this since I first met him. Back then, it seemed like nothing, just a kid with a big imagination. We didn't know what to say to him, so we just... ignored it."


"I always felt like he wasn't from the island," Mansaku admitted, leaning back against the wall. "He used to say it so much that I actually started to believe him. But that lab... what was it for?"


"Probably specimens," Hiro suggested, his voice clinical. "Humans, animals... who knows. I’ve seen enough movies to know how those stories go. Biological research, hidden away where no one can ask questions."


"Did the elders say anything else?" Michinari asked, looking at Norika.


"No," she sighed, her shoulders dropping. "Just what we told you. They didn't want to talk about it. It was like they were afraid of the memory."


"Maybe..." Mansaku started, his voice trailing off. The others looked at him expectantly. "Maybe Falcon-sama knows something about it."


Michinari’s entire body tensed. His eyes narrowed, and the air around him seemed to chill. "My mother doesn't know anything about this," he said, his voice sharp and defensive. "If she knew, she would have told me."


"We don't know that for sure," Mansaku pressed, his voice calm but firm. "She was in charge of the village's logistics for years. Maybe you just need to ask-"


"And then what!?" Michinari shouted, slamming his hand onto the tatami. The room went dead silent. "What are we going to do with that information? We’re here to play football! We’re here to save the island!"


"Michinari, just calm down-" Mansaku started.


"We don't even know if Hiyori’s mother still exists!" Michinari hissed, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and a deep, hidden pain. "She’s probably been gone for a long time. Why bother digging up ghosts when we have a game to win? Why give him hope for something that isn't there!?"


Hiyori stopped.


Hiyori froze mid-spin, his small frame silhouetted against the sliding paper doors. The wide, manic grin he’d been wearing slowly, painfully faded. He looked down at his feet, his hands clenching into small, tight fists. The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the sound of the wind whistling through the pine trees outside.


"Gao-san..." Hiro whispered, standing up quickly and moving toward the boy.


"Oh no..." Norika gasped, her heart breaking at the sight of Hiyori’s slumped shoulders.


Michinari let out a sharp, jagged hiss of breath "Tsk." and looked away, his face contorted with immediate regret. He hadn't meant to say it, but the frustration of his own mother's absence at the docks had bubbled over, and Hiyori’s quest had become the target.


Mansaku looked at Michinari for a long, hard second a look of deep disappointment before standing up to join the others around Hiyori. 


In the doorway of the kitchen, Golem and Hanta stood frozen, their hands full of dinner trays. They had heard everything. They looked at each other, the joy of the "new home" completely drained from the air.


Outside, on the porch, Asuto stared up at the moon. He didn't turn around, but his hand tightened over his heart. The "light" he was looking for seemed very far away.








...









The floodlights of the Holy Ground Stadium cut through the night like surgical lasers, illuminating a pitch that had become a battlefield of broken hopes. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of kicked-up turf and the metallic tang of sweat. For the thousands in the stands, the roar was a deafening tidal wave of sound, but for Asuto, the world had shrunk to the width of a white line and the frantic, rhythmic *thud-thud-thud* of his own heart.


He sprinted, his lungs burning as if he were inhaling shards of glass. Every muscle in his legs screamed in protest, but he pushed harder, his eyes locked onto the spinning blur of the ball. The stadium, the flags, the screaming fans, it all faded into a muffled gray static. The only reality was the ball and the terrifying speed at which it moved.


RAIMON 1 - 5 SEISHOU ACADEMY


The scoreboard flickered like a taunt. The announcer’s voice crackled through the speakers, breathless and incredulous. "While Raimon managed the impossible by scoring the opening point, Seishou’s retaliation has been absolute! Their fierce, calculated counter-attack has earned them a five-point lead in the blink of an eye!"


Goujin, his face contorted in a mask of desperation, lunged for a loose ball. He tried to pivot, digging his cleats into the grass to spark an attack, but a Seishou defender appeared like a shadow. 


"You are not going to stop me! Haaah!' Goujin shouts and dribbles pass the defender, The Seishou Academy's defender smirks prepares himself.


The Seishou Academy's defender ran towards runs towards Goujin and jumps in the air, getting into position to slide tackle with their left foot. Once they land on the field, they get covered with flamelike energy and hit their opponent, blowing them away and successfully stealing the ball from them.




"KILLA SLIDOO!!!"




"Urgh... Darn it!" Goujin roared standing up, his voice cracking. He spun around, his eyes wild as he gave chase. "Don't you dare! Get back here!"


"Let's go, guys! Don't let them through!" Michinari’s voice rose above the din, cracking with the strain of leadership. "Close the gaps! Defend with everything you have!"





The whole team goes back to support the defense, following Michinari's lead.





Asuto hissed through gritted teeth, his gaze narrowing until the world was nothing but a tunnel. "Tsk... We won't lose here," he whispered, a mantra born of pure survival. "We won't! Not after everything!"




Leading the charge was Haizaki Ryouhei. He moved with a predatory grace that made the Raimon players look like they were wading through deep water. As he felt Asuto’s presence closing in behind him, a flicker of a memory surfaced him. "Kidou... where’s the merit in fighting these guys?" He whispers to himself.






...







A few days before in showers of the Seishou Academy locker room. The rhythmic hiss of the water was the only sound until a heavy footfall echoed against the tiles. Someone entered the stall directly adjacent to his.




"Haizaki," a voice said, calm, firm, and layered with an authority that didn't need to shout. 




Haizaki didn't turn. He leaned his head back against the cold tile, letting the hot water beat against his chest. "Hah... is that you, Kidou?" He let out a sharp, mocking exhale.




"You’re playing in the next match against Raimon." Kidou added.


"Eh?" Haizaki stares at the void of a wall. "I’ll decide which games I play in. I don't care if you're part of the 'Reinforcement Department' or whatever. I don't take orders from anyone."


Haizaki reached out and gripped the faucet handle, twisting it shut with a delicate snap. He grabbed a towel, calmly drying his messy, silver-blue hair. 




"But you will play," Kidou said, his voice unmoved.


"What?" Haizaki asked, finally looking toward the adjacent stall.


"I’m sure you’ll find... a certain interest in that team," Kidou said. There was a subtle, sharp edge of a taunt in his tone.


Haizaki smirked, his expression radiating arrogance. "Where’s the merit in playing against a team of nobodies? They can’t even use a basic hissatsu technique. It’s like kicking a puppy, Kidou. Boring."




"Who knows?" Kidou says. "I suppose you could say the merit lies in their... 'potential.'"


"Huh." Haizaki stepped out of the shower area, wrapping a towel around his waist. "Kidou Yuuto, the 'Absolute Commander of the Pitch,' is actually interested in a whimsy little band of islanders? That’s rich."




"Right?" Kidou voice drips with sarcasm.




Haizaki hisses, slightly annoyed.


"Stop toying with-" Haizaki started to bark, then checked himself, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. "Whatever."


He started to walk toward the exit, but Kidou’s voice stopped him one last time.


"Haizaki."




"Huh?"





"You’re looking for it, aren't you?" Kidou asked, "Searching for something that will save this world from the darkness that’s swallowing it. For you, Raimon might just be your light."





...



Back on the pitch, the "light" felt more like a flickering candle in a hurricane. Haizaki sprinted down the wing, the ball seemingly glued to his foot. 


"So your strategy is to weaken me and then disappear into the shadows, huh, Kidou?" Haizaki hissed, his eyes glowing with an unstable, manic light. "If they're supposed to be my 'light,' then let's see how bright they can burn before they're extinguished!"




He began a relentless solo assault. He bypassed Asuto and Goujin with a change of pace so sudden it looked like a glitch in reality. 




"He’s too fast!" Goujin cursed, his knuckles white as he tightened his fists. 


"Move up, Goujin! Don't look back!" Asuto screamed, ignoring the gap in skill. He sprinted toward Haizaki, a desperate, lunging pursuit. 


Kozoumaru and Hiura stepped into Haizaki's path, planting their feet and bracing for impact. Haizaki didn't even slow down. He stepped around them with a contemptuous flick of the ball, leaving them grasping at thin air.




"This guy... he’s just a beast," Hiura whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs.


"Don't stand there looking at the view, idiot!" Kozoumaru growled, already pivoting on his heel to chase the Seishou ace.


Haizaki’s smirk widened into a jagged, predatory grin. "If you guys are really this good, then show me! Show me this 'potential' Kidou was babbling about! NOW!"




Haizaki struck a powerful shot, a warning shot that Norika barely managed to see. 




"GUYS!!! DON'T LET HIM THROUGH!!!" Michinari screamed, his voice raw.


"Haaah!" Mansaku threw himself headfirst into the path of the ball, attempting a desperate block. The sheer kinetic energy of the shot slammed into his leg, the pressure so intense it sent him spinning through the air. "Gaaaaah!"


Norika lunged, her fingers inches from the leather, but the ball was a blur of pure spite. It ripped through the air and slammed into the net, dragging her into the goal with it. "Kyaaaa!!!"




The scoreboard spun. 6. 


7. 





Each goal was a hammer blow. Haizaki landed, barely breathing hard, his eyes scanning the broken Raimon players with a look of profound disappointment.


"Move, you idiots!" Kozoumaru shouted, his voice a raspy snarl.


8.




"Don't get beaten by one guy! Come on!" Goujin added, though his legs were trembling.


9.




Hiyori, his eyes wide with a primal, animalistic terror, scrambled back. "DEMON! DEMON!!! BIG SCARY DEMON!!!"


"Hiyori!" Mansaku shouted, though his own eyes were fixed on Haizaki with a look of pure dread.




Hiro adjusted his glasses, his analytical mind reeling. "I can’t stop him... the data doesn't make sense! He’s the Devil of the Field!"


"Block him! Move up! Every man back!" Michinari ordered.




Haizaki stood near the center, the ball at his feet. He leaps on the air and shoots the vall up at the sky and let out a sharp, piercing whistle that echoed through the entire stadium.







From the shadows of the pitch, six penguins erupted from the ground, their forms flickering with dark, violet energy. They circled the ball, their bodies vibrating as they began to drill into the leather, imbuing it with a terrifying, swirling power.






"OVAHEATO PENGUIN!!!!!" Haizaki’s voice was a cruel, melodic roar.




He leaped into the air, flipping his body until he was completely upside down. With a violent, snapping kick, he struck the ball. The six penguins followed it like heat-seeking missiles, their metallic screeches cutting through the roar of the crowd.




"P-penguins?" Hiro’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. "That’s... that’s not physically possible!"


"That's the..." Michinari whispered, recognizing the legendary lineage of the move.


"You... You are not going to score anymore goal!!!" Asuto’s scream was a declaration of war. He didn't care about the physics. He didn't care about the demons. He sprinted forward, his entire body leaning into the wind. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!"




The team gasped in unison. Asuto wasn't running to mark a player or anything, he was running to throw his entire life in front of that shot. 




"Follow Asuto!!!!!" Michinari grabbed Hiyori who had curled himself into a ball of sheer panic and hauled him forward. Hiyori buried his face in Michinari’s shirt, his small hands clutching the fabric as they charged. "Hold on buddy..." He whispers to Hiyori, his eyes filled with determination.




"Let's gooooooo!!!!!!!!" Mansaku bellowed, his fear turning into a reckless, burning rage.


"LET'S GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" 


The Inakuni Eleven abandoned their positions. They abandoned their tactics. They formed a desperate, human wall, a golden wave of jerseys sprinting back toward their own goal. 


"Golem! Now!" Hanta screamed, leaping onto Golem’s massive back to gain height.


"Here we go!!!" Golem roared, his massive frame shaking the earth as he sprinted at a speed that defied his size.


The Overhead Penguin shot flew toward them, a spinning mass of dark energy and screeching birds. It looked like an unstoppable force of nature, a projectile designed to shatter anything in its path. But the islanders didn't flinch. They jumped, they dived, they threw their bodies into the air, creating a chaotic, shield of pure will.




"This is mine... it's mine!" Norika screamed, her voice reaching a pitch that silenced the stadium. She planted her feet, her eyes reflecting the violet glow of the incoming shot.




The weight of the island, the memory of her mother’s "pearl," and the long days on the riverbank all surged into her arms. "IT'S MIIIIIIIIIIINE!!!!!!!!"




She lunged forward, not away from the demon’s shot, but directly into its heart.


The floodlights seemed to pulse with a predatory rhythm as the Overhead Penguin shrieked through the air. Norika went all in, not just catch the ball but also colliding with with it, a physical manifestation of Haizaki’s rage. 


The impact was a sickening thud that vibrated through the entire stadium. Norika’s boots carved deep, jagged trenches into the pristine turf as she was driven backward. "HAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" her voice cracked, a raw, guttural scream of pure defiance. Her nails bit through the synthetic leather of her gloves, the friction generating a searing heat that she barely felt. 


The rest of the Inakuni Eleven were a blur of yellow and green, a desperate wall of human will charging toward her. They were so close, dots of light in a whirling, dizzying world of violet energy and grey smoke. Norika’s vision flickered, her pupils dilating as she poured every ounce of her soul into her forearms.


On the far side of the pitch, Haizaki Ryouhei stood perfectly still. The arrogant smirk that had defined his face for the last ninety minutes had vanished, replaced by a hollow, unsettling sensation in his chest. He watched a girl from a nameless island try to catch a meteor with her bare hands. He let out a sharp, jagged sigh and turned his back. 


He didn't need to see the end. In his mind, it was already over.


Norika’s eyes squeezed shut, her muscles spasming under the impossible pressure. The team was there Michinari, Mansaku, Asuto their voices reaching her like a distant echo from across the sea. 


"NORIKAAAAAAA!!!!"


But the "Devil" was too strong. With a sound like a snapped violin string, the ball spiraled out of Norika’s numb grip. Her eyes flew open for a fraction of a second, watching the sphere escape into the dark sky.




The force of the failed save sent her hurtling backward, slamming into the net with a force that knocked the wind and the consciousness right out of her. Her eyes went blank, her body slumping into the white mesh like a broken doll.




"N-norika..."


One by one, the rest of the team collapsed not able to continue anymore. Asuto stumbled, his legs turning to water. He clawed at the grass, his fingers digging into the earth as if he could pull the island of Inakuni closer to him for protection, before his strength finally failed. He hit the ground face-first, his mind descending into a cold, dark numbness.


The stadium didn't roar or cheer. It fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Even the Seishou fans looked down at the pitch with a sense of grim unease.


The referee blows the whistle.




"I-it’s over!" The commentator’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the carnage on the field. He leaned into his microphone, his hand trembling slightly. "With a colossal score of 10-1, Seishou Academy demonstrates exactly why they are the undisputed number one!"




Haizaki smirks and walks away, his cleats clicking rhythmically against the pavement. "That’s all they’ve got?" he muttered to himself, his voice dripping with a forced boredom. "I’m an idiot for expecting anything else."




As he passed Mizukamiya, the Seishou captain didn't move. He just stared at the fallen Raimon players. "You’re irritated, Haizaki," Mizukamiya whispered, his voice smooth and cold. "You're irritated because, for a second, you actually thought they might win. And you're even more irritated because they didn't stop trying until their hearts literally gave out."


"They aren't corrupted... They are pure as the air we breathe right now..." Mizukamiya looks up to the air.


Haizaki eyes wide for a sec. 




Then he just walked away.


Up in the VIP lounge, the atmosphere was equally clinical. The pink haired guy and the grey haired guy were still watching the game, The pink haired guy rested his chin on his hand, his pink hair catching the artificial light. Beside him, the gray-haired stood like a silent sentinel.


"A natural outcome," The grey haired guy stated, his voice devoid of emotion.




"True," The pink haired guy replied, his eyes following the medics as they rushed onto the field. "But... Nishikage, could you investigate a little more about this 'Raimon'? There was a frequency in their play that I didn't expect."




"Understood." Nishikage nodded, his gaze sharp and professional.


On the Raimon bench, the scene was one of pure, frantic chaos. Ootani Tsukushi was a whirlwind of tears and medical tape. She sobbed loudly, her hands flying between the players as she tried to shake them back to life.


"WAAAAAA! Guys! Please stand up! Please move your bodies!" she wailed, accidentally juggling a water bottle and a towel in her desperation. "You all look like... like... ZOMBIES! Moving, breathing zombies! WAAAAA!"


"W-we’re finished," Hiro wheezed, his glasses cracked and hanging off one ear. He stared at the stadium roof, his analytical brain finally conceding defeat. "The data... it was all for nothing."


"We won't get to play soccer anymore..." Hanta moaned, her head lolling to the side as she lay on a bench. "No more field... no more island..."


Mansaku stared at his bruised shins, whispering to the air. "It ended... all too soon. We didn't even get to see the sun rise on the mainland."


Michinari sat on the grass, his eyes half-closed. Hiyori was sprawled across his lap, snoring like a rhythmic rock, his pent up energy finally spent. 


In the VIP box, the Raimon School Council girl, Anna, stood up with a graceful, icy movement. She looked down at the broken team with a look that was somewhere between pity and disdain. "That's all they could do," she said to the other girls. "At the end of the day, they are just a bunch of stray cats from the boonies who wandered into a lion’s den."




Asuto lay on the grass, the cool moisture of the turf pressing against his cheek. He could hear Ootani’s hysterical sobbing and the distant, fading footsteps of the crowd. 


"Everyone," he whispered. His voice was barely a thread of sound, but it carried a weight that made the nearest players turn their heads.


"Asuto-chan! Please rest up!" Ootani sobbed, trying to push him back down. "Don't expend your energy! You guys did your best! You're heroes! Very tired, broken heroes!"


"Why are you looking like that?" Asuto asked, his eyes fluttering open just enough to see the stadium lights. A small, dizzy smile touched his lips. "It doesn't matter how many... times they knock us off. Soccer... it won't leave us. It's right here."


Anna's eyes wide open, despite all that happen, that Asuto still remains motivated.




"A-Asuto..." Michinari whispered, his voice cracking as he leaned forward.


"Don't give... up on this," Asuto continued, his fingers twitching as he tried to push himself off the ground. "We... we will get back football. Doesn't matter where... we will find it. I see it now."




He paused, his breath hitching as he remembered Zhao Jinyun’s smirking face. "What the coach said... 'To not lose.' He didn't mean the score. He meant that as long as we don't lose heart, a path will open. That week of training... it wasn't for the muscles. It made the town see us. It gave us a reason to surpass our limits..."




"Now w...we are more really than ever for everything..." Asuto forces a smile, his lips trembling a little.


"Asuto-chan..." Ootani sobs, small tears falling down her eyes.


He let out a long, shuddering breath. "We came all the way to Tokyo... so... why don't we all go explore the c...i...t...y..."


Asuto’s head lollled back, his eyes rolling into his head as he finally fainted from pure exhaustion.


"WAAAAAA! ASUTO-CHAN!" Ootani screamed, her eyes turning into literal fountains. 


"A-Asuto!" Michinari scrambled to his feet, stumbling and nearly falling over Hiyori. 


"ASUTO!" Mansaku dragged his bruised leg across the turf, joining the group as they huddled around their fallen forward. 


They stood there broken, beaten, and defeated by ten goals but as they looked at Asuto’s peaceful, sleeping face, the "zombie" look in their eyes began to flicker with a tiny, spark of sadness.






...







Two individuals watched the game. The office they were in was a monolithic chamber of glass and steel, dominated by a screen so large it felt like a window into the soul of the city. On it, the final score of the Raimon-Seishou match flickered one last time before a gloved hand reached out.




"So, as expected by the Ares System, Seishou Academy wins." 


The secretary’s voice was like ice cracking. With a sharp, flicking motion of her wrist, she deactivated the display. The room plunged into a clinical dimness, illuminated only by the faint blue glow of data terminals. 


"Of course. Ares sees through everything... every variable, every heartbeat," a man in a pristine white suit replied. He stood by the window, staring out at the Tokyo skyline, his silhouette sharp enough to cut. He didn't look pleased. "But that Raimon team... something about them... it doesn't feel right. There’s a glitch in the logic."


The secretary adjusted her glasses, her expression one of pure, unadulterated arrogance. "Is that so? They looked like a bunch of country pumpkins to me. A minor anomaly that could be corrected by the weight of a superior program."




The man in the white suit narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps. But pumpkins have a way of taking root where you least expect them."






...









The next morning, the sun rose over Tokyo with a cruel, mocking brightness. Ootani Tsukushi, ever the engine of the team, had decided that "emotional trauma is best treated with a view." She had dragged the entire Inakuni Eleven to the observation deck of the Sunshine Tower.


"Hah..." Ootani took a deep, theatrical breath of the filtered observatory air. "There! Nothing better than fresh air and a high altitude to clear the cobwebs!" She spun around, a bright, slightly forced smile on her face. "I bet you guys never saw anything this grand on the island, right!?"


"Eh..." The response was a collective, ghostly hiss.


The Inakuni Eleven stood or rather, slumped behind her. They were a walking medical advertisement. Bandages were wrapped around foreheads, cheeks, and arms. Goujin had a massive patch over his nose, Mansaku was leaning heavily on a crutch, even Hanta who was sleeping looked like she had been through a laundry cycle. Their gazes were distant, their eyes shadowed with the kind of hollow exhaustion usually reserved for the Victorian era.


"Ahhh! Come on, guys!" Ootani pouted, stomping her foot. "The doctor said mobility and sunlight are the best medicines! You all look like the undead! The 'Living Dead of Inakuni'!" She forces a smile. "Get over here! You guys will love this!"


"Eh..." the team hissed again, moving in a slow, shuffling line like a group of mummies toward the floor-to-ceiling glass.


"Alright! Look now! Really look!" Ootani urged, pointing toward the horizon.


As they reached the glass, the sheer scale of the world finally pierced through the fog of their defeat. The city of Tokyo stretched out beneath them a sprawling, silver-and-blue labyrinth of shimmering glass, pulsing veins of traffic, and tiny, ant-like people living lives that felt light-years away from a football pitch.




"Wow..." Hanta whispered, her breath fogging the glass.


"It’s... it’s a genuinely good view," Hiro admitted. He reached up to adjust his glasses, but his hand shook slightly. "The geometric layout of the metropolitan area... it’s staggering."


"Tokyo sure is amazing," Mansaku muttered, his grip tightening on his crutch. "It’s so big. So... final."


Asuto stood at the very edge, his forehead almost touching the cold glass. His bandages were stark white against his tanned skin. "So this is Tokyo’s peak," he whispered. His gaze wasn't on the buildings; it was on the horizon, toward the distant, invisible ocean.


For a long moment, the only sound was the hum of the tower’s ventilation. Then, a soft *drip* hit the ground. 




Ootani’s eyes widened. "Guys!?"


Asuto was the first to break. A single tear tracked a path down his cheek, followed by another, and then his shoulders began to heave. "I... I thought I had the answer," he choked out, his voice cracking like dry wood. "I...I just..."


He buried his face in his bandaged hands, the weight of his mother's memory and the crushed dreams of his island crashing down on him at once. "Mom... I'm sorry..."




The sound of Asuto’s sobbing acted like a pulled plug. The dam burst, making the whole team start sobbing.







"I wish... I wish we could have played more!" Michinari sobbed, covering his eyes as he slumped against a pillar. "Just one more minute! Just one more play!"


"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"




The observatory was suddenly filled with the raw, messy, unbridled wailing of eleven broken-hearted boys. They weren't "cool" characters in that moment, they were kids who had lost their favorite thing in the world. People nearby, tourists and businessm enstopped in their tracks, tilting their heads in confusion at the sight of a bandaged sports team having a collective meltdown at 600 feet in the air.




Kozoumaru let out a long, shaky sigh. "Come on... here? Of all places?" Even as he spoke, his lip trembled, and he closed his eyes.




"This makes me so sad..." Ootani sobs, whispering to herself...


Hiyori was fast asleep, leaning his weight against Ootani’s leg, but even in his slumber, small drops of salt water leaked from beneath his closed eyelids. They were connected a single, sobbing entity of grief.


But suddenly they heard a voice.


"Hello, Raimon Eleven.~"


The voice was warm, rhythmic, and entirely unexpected. The team froze, their sobbing turning into a series of pathetic hiccups. They turned, wiping their eyes with their sleeves, to see a middle-aged man standing before them. He wore a sharp suit and a smile that reached his eyes a stark contrast to the coldness of Tokyo.




"Your plays were so stirring to me," the man said, nodding with genuine respect. "Truly magnificent. I haven't felt that kind of heat in a stadium in decades."


The team blinked, looking at each other in confusion. 




Ootani stepped forward, sniffing loudly. "Hey... um... can we help you? Are you a doctor? Or... the police?"


"Oh, where are my manners!" The man chuckled, reaching into his pocket and producing a thick, high-quality business card. "I’m the CEO of the Island Tourism Group, Shimabukuro Ikutaro. It is a pleasure to finally meet the legends of Inakuni."


Hiro grabbed the card, his analytical eyes scanning the logo. "Island... Tourism Group?"




"Are they famous?" Goujin asked, scratching the back of his head and accidentally dislodging a bandage.


"It's... it’s a major travel agency," Hiro whispered, his eyes widening. "Global reach. Massive capital."




"Wow..." The team awe in unison.


"You... you watched our game, sir?" Asuto asked. He stood up straight and bowed deeply, his face red with embarrassment. "Thank you very much... even though it was... what it was."




"It was a very touching game," Shimabukuro said, his smile never wavering.


"It was a loss," Golem rumbled, looking at his feet. "10-1. That’s not a game... that’s a demolition."


"Games aren't solely about the numbers on a scoreboard," the CEO replied softly. "You stood up for each other against the 'Demons' of Seishou. You played fairly, you didn't resort to foul play even when you were drowning, and you kept running until you literally collapsed. It was beautiful. It was... human."




"Unfortunately, sir... our football is over," Michinari said, looking out at the city. "No sponsor, no team. That was the deal."


The others nodded, the gloom threatening to return.


"Is that so?" Shimabukuro asked, his eyebrows rising. "Because my company has been looking for a spirit just like yours. The Island Tourism Group will be officially sponsoring the Inakuni Eleven." He paused, his smile widening. "Or should I say... the new Raimon Island?"


The silence that followed was absolute. Then, the air in the Sunshine Tower shattered.


"R-really!?" Asuto’s eyes snapped open, blazing with a sudden, golden light.


"That means...!" Goujin’s voice hit a volume that surely cracked the glass.


"We... we can still play football!!!" Michinari screamed, a grin splitting his face so wide it hurt.


"YEAH!!!!!"


The team exploded. The bandages didn't matter, the bruises didn't matter. They were jumping, hugging, and tackling each other to the floor of the observatory. The negative energy of the previous night vanished in a puff of pure, unadulterated hope.

 



"We did it... we actually did it!" Hiro cried, but these were different tears, hot, happy ones that fogged up his glasses completely.


"It feels so good to breathe!" Hiura laughed, throwing his arms out wide.




"Han-chan! We have football back! We really do!" Golem bawled, scooping Hanta up into a bear hug that made her ribs creak.


"We do! We really do! Waaa!" Hanta sobbed back, pounding on Golem’s massive shoulders in joy.




Kozoumaru watched them, finally allowing a small, genuine smile to tug at the corner of his mouth before he looked away, trying to maintain his "cool" image. 




Ootani watched them, her heart swelling with a pride she couldn't quite describe. "I'm glad... I'm so glad for you guys..." She sobs. "So many emotions..."


Asuto walked back to the glass. The sun was higher now, bathing the city in a warm, golden glow. He looked up at the sky, his eyes clear and focused.




"We're still here, Mom," he whispered, his smile radiant. "Football is still here. And I'm going to bring it back to the island. I promise."


The defeat against Seishou Academy was a scar deep and permanent but it was also a foundation. On that cold morning at the peak of Tokyo, the Inakuni Eleven died, and Raimon Island was born. They had no idea of the shadows watching them, or the "Demons" waiting in the brackets ahead. All they knew was the weight of the ball and the promise of a tomorrow where the whistle would blow once more.


The road to the top was long, and the Potential they had was only just beginning to flicker. But as the boys descended from the tower, their steps were no longer those of the undead. They were the steps of a team that had found its light.





...







"...Heh"













                                            To Be Continued....


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