The locker room of Kashima Antlers smelled of cheap disinfectant and sweaty ambition. Kaito pressed his hands against his thighs to stop the trembling – not out of fear, but from that raw adrenaline that only came when everything was at stake.
Outside, the coaches' shouts echoed:
— GROUP C! ON THE FIELD IN TWO MINUTES!
He looked at the badge hanging on the locker: "SHIROGANE, K. – No. 48". The ink was still fresh.
"Neto… your mom would be proud."
His grandfather's voice hammered in his skull. Why mention her now? Ten years without a word, and today…
A kick on the bathroom door made him jump.
— Where's the new phenomenon? — A skinny kid with thick eyebrows peered inside. — Ah, scared shitless. Classic.
Kaito stood up slowly, until he was face to face with the intruder.
— Get out of my way.
The kid laughed, showing a broken tooth.
— I'm Yuto. Been here for three years. — He extended his hand, but the smile was that of a snake. — I'll give you a tip: quit. No one wants another star on the team.
Kaito ignored the hand and pushed him aside.
— I'm here to stay.
The field seemed smaller under the floodlights. Five against five, with four balls in play simultaneously – a calculated chaos to test decision-making under pressure.
Kaito was assigned to the Red Team, along with:
• Yuto (the broken-tooth guy, clearly his marker)
• Two mediocre players who were shaking like green twigs
• A chubby guy named Tetsuo, who smelled like garlic bread
On the other side, the Blue Team had:
• Two former youth internationals
• A Korean guy as tall as a post
• And worst of all: Renji Miyamoto, the current top scorer of the youth team.
The coach, a short man with a scar on his chin, blew the whistle:
— ONLY RULE: WHOEVER IS LEFT WITHOUT A MARKING IN 20 MINUTES WILL BE ELIMINATED. PLAY.
Kaito didn't blink before Yuto shoved his elbow into his back.
— You'll learn today, rookie.
The first ball came like a missile. Kaito jumped to control it, but Yuto yanked his shorts from underneath. Bad fall.
Laughter.
— Afraid to dirty your shirt, princess?
Kaito got up with dirt in his teeth. It was war.
In the next ten minutes, Kaito was:
• Locked by his marker
• Isolated by his teammates
• The target of uncalled fouls
Until Renji, the blue team's top scorer, picked up the ball in midfield.
— Look at this! — he shouted, aiming at Kaito. — Kenji's little boy!
The world stopped.
How did he know?
Renji dribbled past two easily and came straight for him, eyes gleaming with malice.
— Your dad cried like a baby when they cut him. You gonna do the same?
Something inside Kaito snapped.
The moment Renji set up to shoot, he:
1. Faked a tackle (making the striker hesitate)
2. Swept with his heel (cleanly stealing the ball)
3. Twisted 180 degrees before anyone could react
The whole field became a blurred smear.
Yuto came charging like a bull. Kaito let him pass, using his opponent's momentum as a shield against the next defender.
The Korean jumped. Kaito touched the ball under his open legs.
And then, in front of the goal, with Renji screaming behind, he did the unthinkable:
He kicked with the outside of his foot – exactly like his grandfather had forbidden.
The ball died in the top corner.
Goal.
Silence.
Until the coach started laughing.
— Welcome to Kashima, Shirogane.
After practice, while the others were getting ready, Kaito snuck into the club's archive.
He needed answers.
In a dusty folder marked "Accidents - 2005", he found:
"KENJI SHIROGANE - SEVERE INJURY (ACL)"
Attachment: Medical report indicating 'fall after an unauthorized physical confrontation in a training session'
And below, signed by today's coach:
"Talented, but undisciplined. We do not recommend renewing his contract."
A photo slipped out of the papers: his father, lying on the field, with Renji Miyamoto (younger, but unmistakable) smiling behind.
It hadn't been an accident.
When leaving the stadium, Kaito found Renji smoking near the gate.
— I knew you'd snoop. — The striker blew smoke in his face. — Your old man tried to sue the club, you know? He said I hurt your dad on purpose.
Kaito clenched his fists until his nails cut into his skin.
— That's what happened.
Renji laughed, flicking the cigarette butt on the ground.
— Zero proof. Just a drunk's word against a future national idol. He stepped on the cigarette. — But if you want to continue where he left off…
He handed over a visitor's badge.
— Main training tomorrow. Come see how the real game is played.
When Kaito took the card, Renji squeezed it hard, leaving a shallow cut on his finger.
— You won't cry, right? One failed Shirogane is enough.
The apartment was dark when Kaito returned. Haruto was sleeping on the couch, the TV whispering an old match.
On the table, an envelope: "Trainee Contract - Kashima Antlers".
And a note:
"Sign if you think you're ready. But remember: now they'll hunt you."
Kaito looked at his dad's photo on the wall. The smile seemed sad now.
He picked up the pen.