(Scarlet perspective)
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Snow. Out of nowhere, little white flakes falling from the sky. Cute, right? The kind of thing that would make kids huddle and complain about frostbite.
Not me. I grinned. *Well at least we'll give these little freshmen a frostbite they'll remember.*
The whistle blew. My time to shine.
I swept the ball with ease — no resistance, no hesitation. The ball stuck to my foot like it belonged to me. That's when I saw him.
A shadow on the edge of my vision.
Who the hell—?
Before I could even process it, this boy — some no-name freshman — appeared beside me. He caught up? To *me?*
I blinked, stunned, and spat, "Bravo, kid. You get to see this up close. You lose—"
Then he took it. Just like that. Like my speed meant nothing.
I felt my blood boil. Nobody steals from Scarlet. Nobody.
He didn't even *say* anything. Just silence. Cold, calculated silence. It was infuriating — like I wasn't even worth a word. He looked like he was going to shoot, so I prepared to block.
But no. The ball curved away from the goal. It wasn't a shot. It was a pass. Straight to another freshman — Daiko.
Finally, he spoke. His voice cut through the air, sharp and merciless.
"Now that you've seen my moves, what are you gonna do now, you gimmick?"
I froze. He called me a gimmick? *Me?* The fastest player in this entire stadium?
Daiko smirked back, and for a moment, I felt something unfamiliar: unease.
Flow state. My mind clicked. Minato, the freshman goalkeeper, had already entered it earlier. And now Daiko? That meant two freshmen could command flow on the field like it was nothing.
No. Impossible. They're not supposed to evolve this fast.
I charged at Daiko, but he moved it on to Ayame. Ayame danced with the ball, precision in every step. I cut her off, only for her to flick it to Rika. Rika curved it back to… him.
That boy again.
Dusk appeared beside me, speaking low, urgent. "They're making sure you don't get the ball. We'll split. Try to force them."
I nodded, darting right, while Dusk cut left toward him.
He didn't even *look* at Dusk. Just dribbled past him like he wasn't there.
Not this time, Dusk pressed harder, forcing the clash. I watched carefully, ready to strike. Dusk wasn't weak — he was built like a wall, trained for this since sophomore year. He wouldn't lose.
"In terms of strength or brains," Dusk growled, "I'll always win."
For the first time, the boy turned his head. His eyes — no, his silence — unsettled me.
"I guess that's why we never met."
Then he moved. Effortless. He *used Dusk's body* like a springboard, kicked the ball into the air with his right, and I saw it — the weakness. The ball was falling to his left foot. He hadn't used it once. A flaw. His flaw.
I dashed in. My speed would crush him.
But then—
Midair. His left foot swung. Clean. Precise. And the ball curved away. Not to the goal. To Daiko.
…Ambidextrous.
Dusk chased Daiko down, but Daiko just smiled. He flicked the ball into the air. A gap opened, perfect spacing. When it came back down, his left foot slammed it forward.
The net rippled. GOAL.
2-2.
I froze. My eyes widened. Two of them. *Two freshmen ambidextrous players.* Kei — whoever he was — and Daiko. Two in flow state. Two who could strike with either foot.
And Kei… he'd been here for *two minutes*.
This wasn't luck. This wasn't talent. This was something unnatural.
I clenched my fists, forcing the fear back, drowning it with anger. Dusk came beside me, muttering, "New strategy. Keep the ball away from Kei and Daiko. They're too unpredictable."
I nodded stiffly, but inside, my heart pounded.
Who *was* this boy?
And why… did it feel like we were the ones being hunted?
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It was still December 22, 2026, and the game was about to restart. The ref had his whistle in hand, the players were set, and the whole stadium buzzed with nervous energy. I leaned back in my seat next to Mr. Unagi—grumpy old man as always—and, of course, right beside him was none other than Principal Sobu himself.
And then Mei showed up.
She strolled in with that usual smile of hers, a flag football belt tied around her waist like it was a fashion accessory.
"Oh hey, Mei," I said, glancing over. "Aren't you in the next event? Flag football, right?"
"Yep," she said brightly, plopping down next to me. "Aren't you too?"
I smirked, rummaging in my bag. "Yup. Got the gear right here." I held up my own belt for proof.
She grinned. "So… who do you think is gonna win this match?"
I tilted my head toward the field. "Ever since Kei showed up, he's taken control of the entire game. At this point, it's like watching chess with a soccer ball."
Before Mei could respond, Unagi cut in with a sharp "Shush, kids, the game's starting."
I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Oh really, old man? Couldn't tell."
Unagi smirked, side-eyeing me. "Not that old, brat."
"Sixties," I shot back without hesitation. "You're in your early sixties, and your boss is thirty-two."
That one landed. Principal Sobu's head turned just slightly, his expression unreadable.
"Oh crap," I said quickly, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, Principal. Forgot you were there."
But Sobu only smiled. "No harm done."
Mei chuckled under her breath, and then the whistle blew.
The game was on again.
Scarlet and Dusk dashed for the ball, moving with that synchronized confidence that comes with experience. Scarlet collected it smoothly, but Reika was already pressing her. She panicked—well, as much as someone like Scarlet could panic—and dumped it off to Dusk. He trapped it cleanly… and then, out of nowhere, Kei stole it right from under him.
Even from here, I could see the look on Dusk's face. That kind of quiet rage you only get when someone embarrasses you in front of a crowd.
Iron stepped up next, pressing Kei with that towering defensive presence. Now it was three on one—Dusk, Iron, Scarlet—all boxing Kei in.
For a moment, I thought they had him.
And then Kei just… laughed at the idea of rules. He flicked a long curved pass behind him, like he had eyes in the back of his head. The ball found Ayame.
Now, Ayame… I still don't know what the hell I was watching.
She started… dancing. Not just footwork—actual dancing. Like ballet. The crowd murmured, the ref looked lost, and I swear Unagi leaned forward with a vein popping out of his forehead.
"What the hell is she doing?" he barked.
Mei just smiled knowingly. "Wait for it. It's part of her plan."
We all turned and stared at her like she'd grown another head.
"Yeah," Unagi muttered, "well, tell her to revise that plan."
But then a midfielder from the senior side lunged in to take the ball—only for Ayame to leap gracefully, spinning like a ballerina and dodging him completely. She landed smoothly and kept dribbling, her style shifting from ballet to modern pop, feet tapping and sliding like she was on stage.
The seniors didn't know how to respond. Hell, neither did I.
"AYAME!" Rika's voice cut across the stadium. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! GET IT TO THE GOAL!"
Scarlet tried to close in, but Ayame was already past her, still dancing, still controlling the ball.
And then the pass came—perfectly curved, straight back to Kei.
Four players collapsed on him at once, cutting off every angle. He wound up like he was going to shoot with his right, and everyone bit. But at the last second, he shifted, left foot striking clean.
The ball curved—not toward the net, but toward Ayame again.
She was ready.
With an elegant right-foot strike, Ayame fired. The stadium held its breath.
GOAL.
The place erupted. Mei jumped to her feet screaming, "LET'S GO AYAME!"
I just sat there, stunned.
Kei had only been on the field five minutes. Two goals came directly from his presence, his passes, his impossible vision. If he'd stayed any longer… the win wouldn't just be possible—it'd be inevitable.
And then came the announcement: Kei was being subbed out. Relief washed over the seniors, but their joy was short-lived.
Because the replacement was Kaito.
Six foot four. Built like a martial artist. Smirk on his face like he already owned the field.
The score was 3–2 now, the stadium shaking with noise. Ayame and the others were celebrating, the crowd losing their collective minds, and me?
I leaned forward, eyes locked on the field.
"What the hell is going on out there?" I muttered, barely able to believe it myself.
Whatever it was, it wasn't normal soccer anymore. It was war.
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