"The Nationals... We just need to win this game, and we're in the Nationals." Stepping onto the field, Isagi's breathing grew tense.
"Even though the pre-game favorite, Ryosuke Kira, was knocked out unexpectedly, that doesn't mean our opponents are weaker. On the contrary, the team that knocked out Matsukaze Kokuo High School with a wide margin is undoubtedly a formidable foe." The sturdy middle-aged coach clapped his hands to get the players' attention and began his pep talk.
"But! Their offense relies entirely on their striker, Kanzaki Shinichi. In the previous game, Kanzaki Shinichi was subbed out early once they had a big lead, and Ryosuke Kira scored three goals right after. In other words, their team is essentially a one-man show, both offensively and defensively."
"Isagi! Do you remember the spirit of football?" The sudden question snapped Isagi out of his daze, and he quickly responded with a loud answer, "Uh… Yes! Football is 'one for all, all for one!'"
"Exactly! All for one, and one for all. Football is an eleven-player sport, and the support between teammates makes each of you stronger. This unity is our advantage!" Seeing that Isagi was back in focus, the coach chose not to scold him but instead continued his motivational speech, "Keep that in mind, and play with no regrets!"
"Yeah!!"
.....
"Your name is Isagi, right?" Before the match began, as Isagi was preparing to warm up, a young player walked over from the opposing side's bench.
"I've read up on you. In middle school, you showed skill beyond your peers, but after entering high school, you seemed to disappear."
"Huh? I, uh…" Isagi was unsure if the other player was stating facts or talking trash.
But the boy continued without a care for Isagi's discomfort. "So, I looked up your high school game footage. I don't think it's a lack of talent that's made you ordinary."
"Your talent didn't vanish; it's just been sealed by something else. In this game, I hope you remember that." Having said his piece, Shinichi turned to leave without waiting for Isagi's reply. "Remember, let go of what doesn't matter. I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do."
"...Huh?" Isagi tilted his head, puzzled. "What's with that guy? He just came over, said a bunch of stuff, then walked off. Doesn't make any sense…"
'Wait! Maybe he wants me to feel this way. I can't let him throw me off!' Realizing this, Isagi quickly patted his cheeks to refocus. "Don't overthink it. My only goal is to win this game and make it to the Nationals."
The whistle blew, signaling the start of the match, with Ichinan kicking off. Isagi dashed forward instantly.
'Is it because that guy's on the right side?' He noticed that most of the opponents were grouped on the left. 'What do I do? Should I go head-to-head with their ace, or avoid their strongest player?'
Receiving a pass from a teammate, Isagi instinctively scanned the field. 'No, the left side is too crowded. There's no space to break through. They're baiting us to attack the right side… in that case...'
"Go forward!" Isagi shouted, directing his teammates to move up the field.
He didn't know exactly how strong their ace was, so going head-on would be risky.
But one player couldn't guard all that space alone—as long as his teammates supported him, they could find a way...
"Wait—" Isagi suddenly stopped. 'What? There's no path for a pass at all. He's just standing in front of me, yet any attempt to dribble or pass toward him feels blocked? His positioning… it's too perfect.'
"What's wrong? Not coming at me?" Shinichi asked, noticing Isagi's hesitation. "If you're not going to come over, then I'll just head your way."
'What does he mean? Is he planning to press me? With his defense so exposed behind him? Doesn't he care about the risk of making a mistake?'
Although the game had only just begun, sweat was already trickling down Isagi's forehead.
He kept scanning the field with his peripheral vision, searching desperately for any route that could help him get past Shinichi.
"There's no time for you to stand around thinking on the field, scrub." The moment of Isagi's hesitation was all Shinichi needed to step forward, increasing the pressure.
'He's really coming at me? In that case, I'll just pass it… No way, he's kidding, right?!'
Seeing Shinichi charging in without a second thought, Isagi instinctively tried to pass the ball sideways.
No matter how wide his defensive range was, he was still just one player.
If they could keep moving the ball back and forth a few times, eventually he'd slip up—or so Isagi thought.
But as soon as the ball left his foot, he couldn't believe his eyes.
Shinichi had stopped his approach almost the instant the ball was passed, then launched himself like a coiled spring, his burst of speed nearly matching the ball's trajectory.
'No, the ball is still a bit faster, but the lead isn't enough. By the time my teammate stops it, Shinichi will already be closing in! No—given his skill, he'll barely even have time to control the ball. Relying on him alone, he'll definitely be dispossessed immediately!'
Anticipating what was about to happen, Isagi abandoned the plan to keep passing and quickly positioned himself behind Shinichi, ready to support his teammate.
But what happened next was beyond what Isagi expected—he thought he'd prepared for the worst, but he'd still overestimated his teammate.
Overwhelmed by Shinichi's intimidating presence and the fear of losing the ball, the unknown player made an error in his first touch.
As his foot met the ball, it bounced slightly upward, drifting forward in a slow but deliberate arc.
In a high school match, this might not typically be considered a huge mistake; it was just a slightly poor first touch that left the ball less than half a meter away.
Some might even call it a controlled play. But Shinichi wasn't an ordinary opponent. That small distance was all he needed to take control.
In a flash, Shinichi surged forward, planting himself between his opponent and the ball, his formidable strength of 91 leaving the other player helpless.
Without even touching the ball, Shinichi completely boxed him out. With that, Shinichi fully claimed possession.
'That turnover was way too fast.' Isagi grumbled to himself but didn't waste time, stepping in to face Shinichi directly, forming a two-on-one with his teammate to close in.
Yet Shinichi only slightly angled his body, using his shoulder to block off the other player on his right.
Then, with a deft touch, he pulled the ball back to evade Isagi's attempted steal, flicking it up just past Isagi's outstretched leg.
Shinichi darted to the left, skillfully executing a body-and-ball split to bypass Isagi with ease.
Isagi, thrown off balance by his hasty attempt to intercept, could only lift his leg to block in a last-ditch effort, ending up sprawled on the ground in an awkward half-split, unable to give chase.
With Isagi—the only player capable of containing Shinichi—now out of the play, the remaining defenders, despite their numbers, stood little chance.
They couldn't even manage a tactical foul to slow him down.
All they could do was watch helplessly as Shinichi weaved through their defensive line, effortlessly executing feints and changes of direction, before sealing the play with a clean, graceful goal.
'They don't even need any support from the rest of their team. Just with their ace alone, we can't find a way to defend against them. Their defense is straightforward too—stacking the backline and having their ace cover one side. And now we're trailing. That means, if we want any chance of victory, I have to break through Shinichi's defense and equalize the score.'
The thought only made Isagi feel more restless. 'But how? My dribbling isn't good enough, and that last pass was already pushing my limits. Shinichi's defensive positioning is perfect; he's practically shutting down a 90-degree zone right in front of me, leaving only a horizontal pass as an option. But even a sideways pass isn't enough to escape his pressure.'
Isagi couldn't help but look at the calm young man, surrounded by teammates celebrating, yet unfazed.
For a moment, Shinichi's imposing figure seemed to grow larger in his mind, like an insurmountable wall standing in front of the goal, blocking his path to the Nationals.
The game had only just begun, but a sense of despair already washed over him like a rising tide.
"This… this feels like a checkmate…"
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