Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/16818093087122434729/episodes/16818622176956590160
First year of junior high school, summer. That day’s opponent was a powerhouse that had made it to the top 8 in the prefectural tournament.
However.
“What the hell!?”
The opposing team’s counterattack. I cut off a pass that flew straight from in front of the goal.
“Good.”
36 minutes into the first half. The weather was sunny.
The score was 3-0. Our team was winning.
My teammates were in good form, and I was able to move my body as I had imagined.
“Aota!”
“Yeah!”
A single pass. The ball crossed from the center to the left side and was aimed at Aota’s feet, who had started to accelerate at the front, cutting straight through the field.
“Nice pass!”
My position was what is known as the top-down, or center midfielder.
These days, it is said to be an outdated position that has gradually fallen out of use due to advances in tactics.
But I clung to it. Because I liked it.
The match that day ended in a decisive 5-0 victory.
But…
“In the second half, the seniors up front were slacking off, weren’t they?”
In the locker room after the game, I vented my anger.
“What are you talking about, Hayami? We weren’t slacking off…”
“Then why did you stop moving in the last five minutes? It looked like you were slacking off.”
“You’re just a junior, so why are you acting so cocky?”
“That doesn’t matter on the field or during meetings. If we had kept moving, we could have scored another point.”
“Even so, you should watch your tone. Right, Aota? You think so too, don’t you?”
In a word, I was strict with everyone around that time. …No, it would be more accurate to say that I wasn’t able to be kind to anyone.
“Guys, let’s go practice on our own over there.”
Aota was always the one to calm me down. We often talked about the future after practice or games.
“I’m definitely going to become the best pro.”
That was Aota’s catchphrase in middle school.
He said it all the time, whether he was kicking the ball or taking a break.
And I would respond,
“Aota, that’s impossible. After all, I’m the one who’s going to be the best pro.”
Looking back now, it’s a ridiculous and childish story. Of course, I’m not making fun of Aota’s words.
The one who’s ridiculous and childish is me.
Aota started playing soccer in upper elementary school, while I had been playing since kindergarten. Yet by this point, our skills were already almost equal.
And then, six months later, a decisive event occurred.
“I… was selected for the team?”
That day, it was not me but Aota who was told by the coach that he had been selected for the team.
“What about Ren? How did Ren do?”
“It’s just you. You’re the only one from our team who was called up.”
It would be a lie to say I didn’t feel anything when the coach delivered that ruthless declaration. But…
“Aota, do your best. I’ll take care of the team.”
My heart wasn’t broken yet.
Aota was an amazing guy, and I convinced myself that I was also pretty amazing since our abilities were on par.
So I trained relentlessly.
If I slacked off even a little here, I’d never catch up to him.
But in the end, I got injured. It wasn’t anyone’s fault—it was my own doing.
And to make matters worse.
“Hayami, you’ve been called up to the U15 national team.”
The call came while I was recovering from knee surgery and focusing on rehabilitation.
“I’m sorry, but right now…”
“I understand. It’s a shame, but you need to focus on healing your injury now.”
“…Yes.”
I couldn’t go to my first and last call-up.
And so, my junior high school days came to an end, and I withdrew from soccer.
Shiramine Hisui was alone in the classroom after school.
The setting sun cast a red glow. The curtains swayed gently in the breeze coming through the window.
“…Was that okay?”
──“Can’t you take it seriously?” The words she had spoken were so difficult for him.
Just thinking about it made her feel a heavy weight on her chest.
It didn’t matter how much he hid his true abilities. If that was what he wanted to do, she didn’t mind.
“But… I don’t want to see you lie to yourself about your feelings.”
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