The pace of the game did not slow.
If anything, it sharpened.
Five minutes remained on the clock, and the score sat evenly at 3–3, glowing faintly on the small board near the fence. Breathing came heavier now, less controlled. Every touch mattered.
Elijah wiped his forehead with his sleeve and glanced toward Tyler briefly.
Tyler nodded once.
The ball rolled back into play.
Alfred's team pressed first, probing for an opening, but Elijah's side held shape. A pass cut through midfield. Elijah intercepted and turned quickly, already scanning.
He pushed the ball forward and sent it wide to one of his teammates, a tall second-year with quick legs and restless energy.
The boy took off.
He sprinted down the flank, boots tearing at the grass. Tyler moved with him, not ahead, not behind, keeping pace at his side, eyes flicking between the ball and the defenders closing in.
"PASS!" someone shouted from the sideline.
Tyler angled slightly inward, creating space, ready.
The teammate hesitated.
He cut inside instead, forcing his way forward, trying to take it himself.
Tyler stayed with him, arm pumping, breath steady, trusting the moment.
But the gap closed too fast.
A defender slid in cleanly, toeing the ball away just as the attacker tried to push past.
Gasps rippled through the spectators.
The ball flew loose.
Alfred was already moving.
He received it in stride, composure intact, and surged forward with long, confident steps. His teammates fanned out instinctively, opening lanes without needing to be told.
Tyler turned and sprinted back, but Alfred had space now.
Too much space.
Alfred passed once, smoothly, drawing a defender out, then received it back near the edge of the box.
The goalkeeper tensed.
Alfred didn't hesitate.
The shot was clean.
The net rippled.
For a moment, the field held its breath.
Then the whistle blew.
A low groan rose from one side of the fence. Cheers answered it from the other.
"ALFRED!"
"Captain!"
The scoreboard flickered.
4–3.
Tyler slowed to a stop on the far side of the field.
He bent forward slightly, hands resting on his knees, breathing heavy but controlled. Sweat rolled down his temple and dropped onto the grass below.
He straightened and placed one hand over his wrist, feeling his pulse hammering beneath his fingers.
He smiled faintly, eyes lowered, staring at the uneven blades of grass.
It was close.
A thought brushed against his awareness.
Sharp. Heavy. Guilt-laced.
Tyler lifted his head.
The teammate who had chosen not to pass stood a few meters away, shoulders tense, jaw tight. His thoughts churned, replaying the moment over and over, each version ending the same way.
I should've passed. He was right there. I messed it up.
Tyler met his gaze.
"It was a good play," Tyler said evenly.
The boy blinked, surprised.
Then he laughed softly, tension loosening from his shoulders. "Yeah," he said. "It was."
On the sideline, the noise surged again.
"He's insane," someone said, watching Alfred jog back into position. "That's why he's captain."
"Elijah gave them a real fight though," another replied. "Didn't expect that."
"And that first-year," a third added. "He played way better than I thought."
Near the fence, Chris clenched his fists. "Why didn't that senior pass the ball?" he snapped. "That should've been Tyler's win."
Kai adjusted his glasses, eyes still on the field. "We don't know what happened in the moment."
"But still," Chris argued. "It was Tyler's win."
Noah nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Totally."
Luna crossed her arms, "Look at this guys," she said. "Taking a practice match this seriously."
Aria smiled. "It's not like they're playing a tournament."
Kai exhaled. "That's exactly why you guys taking seriously."
Clara stood slightly apart from them, gaze fixed on the field. Tyler was surrounded by seniors now, their posture relaxed but attentive. She noticed the way they spoke to him, not down to him.
The whistle blew again.
Play resumed briefly, but the edge had dulled. The energy shifted from attack to endurance, from urgency to acknowledgment.
When the final whistle sounded, it didn't explode.
It settled.
Players slowed, some dropping to the grass, others stretching or leaning against each other. Laughter mixed with exhaustion.
Tyler stood near midfield, hands still resting on his wrists, chest rising and falling steadily.
Alfred walked toward him.
Up close, he looked older than his age, confidence worn comfortably rather than forced.
"You played better than I expected," Alfred said.
Tyler lifted his head. "Still a lot to learn."
A couple of second-years laughed.
"At your age?" one said. "You're already ahead of most of us."
Another nodded. "If you'd been here last year, things would've been different."
Elijah stepped in and draped an arm around Tyler's shoulders. "So," he said, grinning at Alfred, "what do you think?"
Alfred looked at Tyler again, this time openly.
"You're good," he said simply. "Are you in?"
The group quieted slightly.
Tyler looked around. At the grass. At the seniors. At Elijah's expectant grin.
Elijah leaned closer. "Just say yes."
Tyler smiled faintly. "Well… I guess we can try."
Cheers broke out immediately.
"YES!"
"Welcome!"
Alfred laughed. "Practice is four days a week. Same as everyone."
Tyler nodded. "Understood."
"Good," Alfred said. "See you day after tomorrow."
He turned and headed toward Coach Ryan, already talking animatedly.
Seniors gathered around Tyler, clapping his back, throwing comments his way.
"First-year, huh?"
"You surprised everyone."
"Don't let it get to your head."
Elijah leaned in again, voice dropping. "So," he said with a grin, "I hear you're messing with Sunny already."
Tyler smirked. "Didn't you say we should bang things up on the first day?"
Laughter erupted.
"Oi," someone teased Elijah. "Your advice is dangerous."
Elijah raised his hands. "Hey, I didn't mean that."
One of the seniors grew serious for a moment. "If Sunny crosses his limits, tell us."
Elijah shook his head, glancing at Tyler. "He can handle small things."
"Sunny's just a baby who needs attention," another added. "Last year he tried to pick on me too."
He looked at Tyler. "Stay alert. He likes blame games."
Tyler nodded calmly. "I'll remember."
Elijah checked the time. "You heading home?"
"With them," Tyler said, nodding toward his friends gathered near the fence.
Elijah smiled. "I'll catch you in the evening."
Tyler nodded and jogged toward his group.
The field slowly emptied behind him.
Tyler slowed as he reached the fence.
The noise of the field stayed behind him. Laughter, whistles, the scrape of boots against grass, all blending into something distant and less urgent. His breathing gradually steadied, chest rising and falling at a calmer rhythm.
Noah reached him first.
He didn't say anything at first. He just stared.
Then he grabbed Tyler by the shoulders and shook him once. "What was that?"
Tyler blinked. "Soccer."
"That was not soccer," Noah said loudly. "That was a public announcement."
Chris arrived a second later, face flushed, eyes bright. "Do you know how loud we were?"
Kai followed, quieter, hands in his pockets, gaze thoughtful. "You changed the pace of the game."
Tyler frowned. "I just played."
"That's the problem," Chris said. "You just played."
Noah laughed. "He's acting like this was nothing."
"It wasn't nothing," Kai said calmly. "You don't get accepted like that for nothing."
Tyler looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "They were already good."
Chris scoffed. "You almost stole the show from their captain."
"That goal," Noah added, eyes sparkling. "That one move? I screamed."
"You screamed a lot," Kai said.
"Because it was deserved."
Eris approached more slowly, expression softer than usual. She stopped beside Tyler, eyes flicking briefly to his face, then to the field behind him.
"You okay?" she asked.
Tyler nodded. "Just tired."
She studied him for a moment longer, as if weighing whether to say something more, then simply nodded back.
Clara joined them then, stepping in beside Sofia, who looked equally impressed and overwhelmed.
She looked at Tyler, smiling openly. "You played really well today."
Tyler turned toward her, met her gaze for a brief second, and nodded. "Thanks."
Then he turned back to Noah as if nothing else needed to be said.
Clara's smile didn't fade, but it softened. She glanced sideways.
Eris noticed.
Their eyes met.
Clara offered a small, polite smile. Eris returned it, just as gently, though something behind her eyes shifted, briefly clouded, before clearing again.
Eris straightened. "We should head out," she said to the group. "It's getting late."
Luna and Aria, who had lingered near the fence, nodded in agreement.
Sofia stretched. "I didn't realize how much time passed."
Eris glanced at Clara. "Clara lives in Midtown too."
Luna's eyes lit up. "Oh, that's great. Chris and Tyler live around there."
Clara looked genuinely surprised. Her gaze flicked to Tyler.
He had already turned away, eyes on the path toward the gate.
"Oh," Clara said softly, then lowered her gaze. "I didn't know."
Chris grinned. "Yeah. That's why she's coming with us."
Everyone nodded as they look towards Tyler.
Tyler turned back. "What?"
Chris waved it off. "Nothing. Let's go."
They started moving toward the school gate together, footsteps crunching lightly on gravel as the crowd thinned around them.
Near the gate, Luna slowed. "We'll head this way," she said, gesturing toward the west road.
Amaya nodded. "See you tomorrow."
Sofia and Aria echoed their goodbyes.
"Tomorrow," Eris said.
They split off, waving casually as the groups separated.
As they walked, Clara glanced at Eris. "I thought you all lived close together."
Eris shook her head. "Luna, Aria, and Amaya live on the west side. We know them from primary school."
Clara nodded. "That makes sense."
The road grew quieter as they moved away from campus.
Noah said "I'm taking the shortcut."
Kai adjusted his bag. "Same direction for a bit."
Chris looked at them. "See you guys tomorrow."
"Don't be late," Kai added.
Noah grinned. "I'm always late."
The silence wasn't awkward, but it wasn't empty either.
Chris broke it first. "So," he said, stretching his arms. "First day and you're already famous."
Tyler sighed. "Please don't start."
Chris laughed. "Too late."
Eris walked a step behind them now, hands loosely clasped, gaze forward. Clara walked beside her, matching pace.
After a few steps, Eris slowed slightly. "I'll take this road."
Chris turned. "Already?"
Eris nodded. "Yeah."
She looked at Clara. "See you tomorrow."
Clara smiled. "Tomorrow."
She turned to Tyler. "Bye."
Tyler met her eyes briefly. "Bye."
Eris lingered for half a second, then turned away, footsteps soft as she disappeared down the side street.
Chris watched her go, then glanced between Tyler and Clara. "Well."
"Well?" Tyler asked.
"Nothing," Chris said quickly. "Just… day one."
They continued walking.
The sky above them had begun to dim, colors softening into evening tones. Streetlights flickered on one by one.
Clara adjusted the strap of her bag. "Central Academy is… different."
Chris laughed. "That's one way to say it."
"So," he said, hands hooked under the straps of his bag, "first day verdict."
Clara glanced at him. "Already reviewing?"
Chris nodded seriously. "Of course. Important life skill."
Tyler let out a small breath that might have been a laugh.
Clara smiled. "It was… a lot. Bigger than I imagined."
"That's Central Academy," Chris replied. "It doesn't ease you in. It just throws you."
Tyler nodded. "And waits to see who stays upright."
Chris pointed at him. "You say that like you didn't just dominate the soccer field."
Tyler shrugged. "I just ran around."
"Liar," Chris said immediately. "You ran around strategically."
Clara glanced between them, amused. "You two have known each other long?"
"Too long," Tyler replied.
Chris grinned. "Since primary school. He was quiet back then too. Just… less dangerous."
Tyler shot him a look. "I'm not dangerous."
Clara laughed softly. "That's usually what dangerous people say."
Chris snapped his fingers. "See? She gets it."