The stadium hadn't even finished exhaling from the last shockwave of a goal before the game was forced back into motion again.
"Well… we have a kickoff straight after a kickoff. With PXG starting the play this time."
The commentator's voice cut through the lingering noise as the ball was nudged into play.
Charles started the play, as he pushed the ball forward—straight into Rin's path.
Rin Itoshi stepped into it seamlessly.
The moment the ball met his stride, his body leaned forward, his pace building gradually—but his path was immediately obstructed.
Two figures closed in almost instantly, like walls slamming into place.
Kaiser.
Kunigami.
They moved straight towards him.
Kaiser's expression was tight, frustration still simmering beneath the surface.
That goal scored by Kunigami was supposed to be his.
The memory of being beaten in that split-second race still burned, sharp and irritating, clinging to him as he squared himself in Rin's path.
Kunigami, on the other hand, moved with blunt force.
His steps were already eating up the distance between them, his body angling in to crush the advance before it could even begin.
But Rin did not have any intentions to slow.
"Here! Rin-san!"
Nanase's voice came from the left, rushed and urgent as he sprinted into position, creating a passing lane.
"I—I'm open!"
Tokimitsu's voice followed from the right, tense but determined, his movement mirroring Nanase's as he pushed forward to offer support.
Rin made his decision instantly.
With a sharp, controlled touch, he sent the ball toward Tokimitsu. But he didn't linger to watch it connect.
He was already gone.
The moment the ball left his foot, Rin's body exploded forward, slipping past Kunigami with a sudden burst of speed that felt almost violent.
His acceleration tore through the narrow gap, his movement sharp and cutting, like he had carved open a path that didn't exist a second ago.
Behind him, Tokimitsu reacted instinctively.
No trapping.
Just a simple one touch.
The ball redirected immediately, snapping toward Charles with surprising cleanliness for someone under pressure.
And all the while—
Rin kept going.
Driving forward.
Plowing through the defensive shape as it struggled to re-form around him, his presence dragging attention, pulling structure apart just by existing in motion.
Charles watched it all unfold.
The pass arrived at his feet, but his eyes weren't on the ball.
They were ahead.
Tracking the movement.
The chaos.
The opening that was beginning to form—not clean, but something far more interesting.
His lips curled.
"...Well… that seems fun…"
The words slipped out under his breath, light, almost playful.
"Fine! I'll play along…"
And then—
He struck it.
Hard.
No cushioning. No setup.
Just a direct, forceful kick that sent the ball screaming forward, cutting through the space ahead with speed and intent.
It wasn't aimed safely, nor carefully placed.
It was provocative.
Because the trajectory leaned dangerously close—
Toward Isagi.
And as the ball tore across the pitch, a wicked smile formed onto Charles' face.
'What…?'
The thought slipped through Hiori's mind the moment the ball left Charles' foot.
That pass.
It was wrong.
His eyes tracked the ball as it tore forward, cutting across the field with a strange kind of intention.
Rin was already accelerating toward it, his body aligned perfectly with the trajectory—but even at a glance, Hiori could tell.
Rin wouldn't get there first.
No—
He couldn't.
Given the pace, the angle, the spacing—
Isagi would reach it first. And not by a slim margin either.
It would be clean. Easy. Almost handed to him.
That alone made no sense.
Hiori's gaze sharpened, his thoughts accelerating to keep up with the unfolding play.
From their research, they already knew that Charles wasn't the type to make a meaningless pass.
So why—
Why send a ball that practically invited Isagi to take it?
His mind began dissecting it instantly, breaking apart the layers, searching for the hidden intention buried beneath the surface.
The positioning.
Rin's run.
The defensive pressure.
The spacing between players.
And then—
It clicked.
'That's it!'
The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity, his body already reacting before the thought had even fully settled.
His feet pushed off hard against the ground as he turned and sprinted back, urgency flooding his movement.
Meanwhile—
The ball continued its relentless path forward, skimming across the pitch with unwavering speed.
Isagi moved.
His body aligned naturally with its trajectory, steps precise, his pace building just enough to meet it at the perfect point.
From the opposite side—
Rin surged forward as well.
For a split second, the scene mirrored what had happened moments ago.
The same chase. The same convergence. The same setup where Isagi had simply taken control without resistance.
But this time—
Something was different.
"Let me in already!!"
The voice exploded from Isagi's left.
Shidou.
He came crashing into the space like a force of nature, having initially pushed up toward the goal line before suddenly dropping back into the play.
His movement was wild, aggressive, completely unrestrained as he slammed into Isagi's shoulder.
The impact rang out—
But it did nothing.
Isagi didn't falter.
Obviously.
His stride held steady, his balance unwavering as if the collision had been nothing more than a passing breeze.
But the space—
The space changed.
It compressed.
Bodies closing in.
Angles tightening.
Time shrinking.
And in that suffocating convergence—
Isagi smiled.
That same sharp, dangerous serene smile returned to his face, flickering with something almost exhilarated.
'Alright... I'll play along as well...'
His left hand shot out instinctively, his palm pressing firmly against Shidou's chest—not to push him away entirely, but to control the distance.
Then—
He leapt.
Even though the ball was still slightly ahead.
He jumped anyway.
One could feel it in the way his body moved.
He was enjoying it.
But then—
Mid-air—
Something shifted.
A presence.
From his right.
Subtle, but undeniable.
"I'm here as well…"
The voice cut in, low but firm.
And in that same instant—
Nanase appeared.
He surged into the gap from Rin's left side, his timing precise, his expression locked with determination as he launched himself into the same contested space.
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.
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15 Days Ago
"Please make me your disciple! I don't care even if I'm just a pawn!"
Nanase's voice broke through the silence, sharp and desperate, as his body bent forward in a deep bow.
His head stayed lowered, his posture rigid—not out of discipline, but out of sheer urgency.
In front of him, Rin Itoshi paused mid-motion.
A water bottle hovered near his lips for just a second longer before he lowered it slightly, his expression already flattening into disinterest.
"Huh? No way in hell, you loser."
The words came out cold immediately.
He didn't even look at Nanase properly as he spoke.
And then he turned.
Already walking away.
Since this conversation never mattered for him to begin with.
"W-wait!"
Nanase's voice cracked as he scrambled forward, panic bleeding into every movement.
His composure broke entirely as he rushed after Rin, hands reaching out instinctively like he was trying to grab onto something.
"As things are going, I won't get to play in any matches! Please!"
His words tumbled over each other, breath uneven.
"Even though I'm ambipedal, it's not enough to get into the line-up! Please, I'm begging ya!"
And then—
He dropped.
His knees hit the ground first, but he didn't stop there. His body collapsed forward as both hands shot out, grabbing onto Rin's foot before he could take another step.
It wasn't graceful.
It was desperate.
Rin stopped.
Obviously not because he cared.
But because of a single word.
Ambipedal.
His eyes shifted downward slowly, the faintest flicker of interest cutting through his otherwise cold expression. For the first time since Nanase had spoken—
Rin actually looked at him.
Properly.
He was about to speak—
To question it.
To test whether that claim held any real value.
But Nanase didn't give him the chance.
"I—I'll do anything! I'll become a pawn!"
His fingers tightened around Rin's shoe as if letting go meant disappearing entirely.
"I wanna survive the Neo Egoist League… I'm offering everything up to you, Rin-san…!!!"
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Present
'I'm gonna make it…!'
Nanase's thoughts burned through him as his body surged forward, every step heavier than the last—not from fatigue, but from the weight of what this moment meant.
The ball was descending into a space that didn't belong to anyone anymore.
Isagi.
Rin.
Both were there.
Both were close.
But not close enough.
So Nanase chose—
To force himself into that gap.
He leapt.
His body cutting into the ball's path before either of them could claim it, inserting himself into the play with sheer will rather than positioning.
At the same time—
Shidou was locked down.
Isagi's presence didn't overpower him, didn't crush him—but it restricted him just enough.
The space Shidou wanted to explode into was no longer open, his movement delayed by that constant, suffocating interference.
And that single delay—
Was everything for him.
Nanase came in from Rin's left.
But Rin—
Rin didn't jump.
Didn't contest.
Didn't even look at the ball.
Instead, he dropped his center of gravity low, his body twisting sharply to the left in one clean, fluid motion.
A setup.
And Nanase saw it.
His eyes locked onto that movement, onto the exact angle Rin had created, onto the space that now existed for just a fraction of a second.
That's where…
His left leg extended.
Muscles straining.
Balance teetering mid-air.
But his focus didn't break.
'Thanks for discovering my potential… Isagi-san!'
The thought surged through him—not as doubt, not as hesitation, but as resolve.
Then—
Impact.
Instead of controlling the ball—
Instead of stopping it—
Nanase redirected it.
'I'll make sure to give my best as well…!!'
With a sharp, desperate motion, he flicked the ball backward mid-air, his body folding into the motion as he executed a clean, instinctive bicycle kick.
The ball snapped away from him.
Into the exact lane Rin had just carved open.
A through ball.
Perfectly weighted.
Perfectly timed.
Perfectly for Rin.
"Wha—?"
Shidou's voice slipped out, caught off guard as his head whipped around, his body instinctively beginning to turn toward the new direction of play.
Rin surged forward, his stride lengthening as the ball dropped perfectly into the path.
The play had unfolded exactly as intended—chaos manufactured, space distorted, and the final touch delivered into the one lane only he could exploit.
For a moment—
It looked complete.
"That was quite a cute play… trying to act like Snuffy and all…"
The voice cut in.
Sharp.
Unbothered.
Rin's eyes shifted, just slightly—
And that was all it took.
"But did you not get the memo, Rin…?"
Hiori.
He was already there.
Rin's face distorted as he gritted his teeth at the sight of Hiori.
Hiori's body was mid-motion, foot drawn back, perfectly aligned with the ball's arrival as if this moment had been decided long before it actually happened.
"That version of Isagi is long gone…"
The words landed—
And so did his foot.
TWHACK!
Hiori didn't cushion it.
Didn't hesitate.
He smashed through the ball with a clean, decisive strike, redirecting its entire momentum forward in a single motion.
The pass Rin was supposed to receive—
Was gone.
Erased before it could even exist.
And ahead—
Isagi was already moving.
The moment his feet had touched the ground, he had transitioned seamlessly back into motion, his body flowing forward like he had never stopped in the first place.
That same smile lingered on his face.
Certain.
Because he knew it all along.
Everything.
Charles' intent.
Rin's positioning.
Nanase's desperation.
None of it had been hidden.
It wasn't subtle.
It was designed to create chaos—
But chaos only worked on those who couldn't read it.
And both—
He and Hiori—
Had already seen through it.
And Isagi didn't do anything about it.
He had simply… waited.
Watched it unfold.
Let every piece fall into place—
Because he could.
Because he knew exactly where it would end.
And now—
It had.
The ball rolled cleanly into Isagi's path, almost as if it had been meant for him from the very beginning.
No contest.
No resistance.
Just control.
His foot met it effortlessly, absorbing the pass as his stride continued without interruption.
Behind him—
PXG's attack collapsed again.
Without any great difficulty either.
Then—
Tokimitsu came in.
Not from a distance.
But right beside him.
"I—I'm supposed to stop you, Isagi-san…"
His voice trembled, tight with pressure, as he matched Isagi stride for stride.
There was no hesitation in his body, though—only tension wound to its limit. His arm shot forward, hand pressing firmly against Isagi's chest, trying to disrupt his rhythm, to anchor him, to slow him down.
It wasn't a reckless decision.
It was calculated.
Tokimitsu's stamina bordered on absurd levels—endless, relentless.
His build wasn't just for show either; his frame carried real weight, real resistance. If anyone on PXG could afford to stick to Isagi, to cling, to drag him down over time—
It was him.
He didn't need to win cleanly.
He just needed to hold on.
And for a fraction of a second—
It looked like he might.
But Isagi didn't break his stride to entertain anyone.
Didn't even acknowledge it as resistance.
He simply—
Kept going.
His body leaned forward slightly, momentum building, his steps falling with quiet precision as if Tokimitsu's grip wasn't something to overcome—
But something already irrelevant.
The difference in intent showed immediately.
Tokimitsu was trying to stop him.
Isagi was already past that idea.
The pressure on his chest didn't slow him—
It collapsed.
Tokimitsu's footing faltered.
His balance, stretched too far in his attempt to latch on, gave out under the sheer forward force Isagi carried. His hand slipped, his body pitching forward as his center of gravity betrayed him.
And then—
He fell.
Face-first.
Left behind in an instant.
Just then—
Isagi made his move.
With barely a shift in rhythm, his foot slid under the ball and flicked it leftward into the air, lifting it just enough to escape immediate pressure—
And right on cue—
Zantetsu came flying in.
A sliding tackle, fast and reckless, his body cutting across the turf with explosive speed as he aimed to steal the ball in that exact moment it left Isagi's control.
But—
Isagi had already seen it.
His body reacted instantly, his legs coiling before he leapt, cleanly vaulting over Zantetsu's slide as if it had been nothing more than a line drawn on the ground.
"I saw that! Mr. Extraordinary!"
Karasu's voice cut in immediately after.
Unlike Zantetsu, he wasn't chasing the ball blindly—he had read the sequence.
He entered precisely at that fragile instant where the ball hovered free, where Isagi should have been vulnerable.
He jumped into that gap.
Perfect timing.
Perfect interception point.
But—
Isagi was already there again.
Before the ball could even drop—
His foot met it mid-air.
Another touch.
Another flick.
This time, sharper.
Higher.
The ball lifted just over Karasu's reaching frame, gliding above his head as his attempt fell short by inches.
Two defenders.
Two perfectly timed interceptions.
Both bypassed—
In a single continuous motion.
Isagi didn't slow.
He just kept going.
Driving forward like the resistance in front of him didn't exist in the same space as him.
PXG's defensive line tried to close in.
Chapa stepped in.
Michelin followed.
Gabin moved to seal the angle.
Three bodies.
Three attempts to compress the path ahead—
But Isagi slipped through them.
Like water finding its way through cracks that shouldn't even be there.
Effortless and Untouchable.
Even Kunigami, who was pushing forward toward the goal line, became nothing more than another passing presence in Isagi's path.
And still—
He didn't shoot.
The goal had been within his shooting range for a while now.
Any earlier moment—
A strike would've been possible.
But Isagi kept advancing.
As Isagi closed in on the box, the air around him tightened.
The goal loomed just ahead.
The goalkeeper's complexion went pale, as if his biggest nightmare stood right in front of him.
And without even noticing it, his eyes slightly closed as if he had already accepted his fate.
But he wasn't alone for long.
"That's brutally quick!"
Shidou's voice tore in from the left, sharp with excitement rather than frustration.
He had made it—finally.
All those seconds PXG had burned trying to slow Isagi down had bought just enough time for their most dangerous wild card to re-enter the play.
And Shidou didn't hesitate.
He surged in, body angled aggressively, ready to collide, to disrupt, to turn this into something violent.
"Right! We are just getting started!"
And from the right—
Entered another mischievous bastard.
Charles.
His approach was completely different.
Where Shidou brought chaos, Charles brought precision.
No wasted movement.
No unnecessary force.
His foot sliced forward in a clean, calculated line toward the ball at Isagi's feet, aiming not to clash—but to take.
To end the sequence in a single, accurate motion.
Two threats.
Two philosophies.
Converging at the exact same moment.
And in between them—
Isagi.
"...Finally."
His voice was low.
Calm.
Just loud enough for both of them to hear.
"I thought I'd die waiting for your slow, pathetic asses to show up…"
There was no strain in his tone.
No rush.
Then—
A shift.
The ball rolled slightly toward his left foot as he nudged it across his body, the motion subtle enough to avoid telegraphing—but deliberate enough to change everything.
Charles' strike came in—
And missed entirely.
His foot cut through nothing but air.
At the same time—
Isagi's left foot moved again.
He dragged the ball behind his standing leg in one smooth, controlled motion, pulling it out of Shidou's reach just as the forward lunged in.
For a split second—
It looked like time had desynced around him.
Reclaiming the space that had just been taken from him.
His left foot stayed glued to the ball, dragging it in a tight, circular motion around his body.
The movement wasn't wide or flashy—it was compact, controlled, suffocatingly precise.
As he pivoted, his shoulder rotated with it, his frame shifting just enough to break the angle Shidou had on him.
Shidou's arm, which had been pressing in to pin him down—
Slipped.
Forced off Isagi's chest by that subtle, deliberate turn.
Both Shidou and Charles reacted instantly.
They weren't late.
They weren't slow either.
Their bodies moved the moment the shift happened—
But Isagi moved within that reaction.
His hands shot out.
His back pressed into Shidou's chest, locking him behind for that brief, crucial instant—just enough to disrupt his reach, to turn his aggression into dead weight.
At the same time, his left hand extended outward—
Catching Charles.
Holding him in place.
And through all of that—
The ball never left him.
Still under his left foot.
It slid across his body as he dragged it leftward.
Then—
He killed it.
A sudden stop.
A fraction of a second where everything froze.
His left foot planted.
And then—
It snapped.
The outside edge of his left foot struck the right side of the ball with a sharp, slicing contact.
The angle was exact—slightly downward, slightly across—just enough for the ball to grip against his boot for the briefest instant before releasing.
And in that instant—
He shaped it.
The contact did two things at once.
The ball popped upward off the ground—
And more importantly—
It spun.
A tight, snapping sidespin injected into it, forcing its path to bend as it rose.
It curved.
Drifting across his body, pulled by that spin like it was following a line only he could see.
For a fraction of a second—
It hung there.
Suspended.
Balanced perfectly between control and chaos.
And Isagi was already there to meet it.
His right foot came up beneath it in one seamless continuation, his body still anchoring Shidou behind him, still limiting Charles to his side—
And then—
The flick.
Sombrero.
The ball lifted sharply, popping up and over—
Above his own head—
Above Shidou's—
Breaking free from the space they had tried to trap him in.
"Woah—?!"
"Damn!"
Both reactions came almost at the same time.
Charles' precision had been broken.
Shidou's aggression had been lifted clean off the ground.
Their eyes followed the ball as it arced away, rising above them before beginning its descent into open space—space that no longer belonged to them.
And Isagi—
Didn't chase it.
He turned his head instead.
Just slightly.
Looking over his shoulder, not at where the ball was—
But at where it would land.
His gaze sharpened, locking onto a movement already unfolding beyond them, already ahead of the play.
"You better be there…"
The words slipped out low, steady, like a command disguised as a whisper.
Because he knew.
He had already seen it.
"...Ya satellite."
And right on cue—
Kurona appeared.
His run had been timed perfectly, his positioning aligned so cleanly with the ball's drop that it looked less like movement and more like inevitability.
As the ball bounced into his path, his body was already set, his leg drawn back with mechanical readiness.
"Aye aye, sir."
Kurona's voice came out calm—
But his eyes told a different story.
Focused.
Sharp.
That familiar intensity burning through them, like smoke trailing behind his vision as he locked onto the ball.
Everything had led to this.
The chaos.
The feints.
The compression of space.
All of it had been peeled away—
To leave this single moment behind.
Kurona stepped into it.
Prepared—
To finish.
Then suddenly—
"You felt it, didn't you? That little spark of victory…"
The voice came from behind.
Cold.
Cutting through the moment just before it could be completed.
Kurona's body had already committed. His leg swung forward, precise and clean—everything aligned for the finish—
But the ball—
Was gone.
Dragged away in the instant before impact.
His foot cut through empty air.
A hollow motion where certainty had just existed.
Kurona's eyes widened slightly, his body trying to correct mid-motion as he twisted around, sweat scattering around, searching for what had just been taken—
And then he saw him.
Rin.
"Shame it dies here… you Isa-ycophant braided runt!!"
His voice was laced with venom, raw and unfiltered, nothing like the quiet, calculating tone he usually carried.
Veins bulged along his forehead, his jaw clenched tight enough to make the tension visible, his grip on the ball sharp and possessive as he pulled it fully under his control.
He hadn't just intercepted it.
He had ripped it away.
From the one place it was meant to end.
From the one moment that had been built so carefully.
Rin stood there with it at his feet—
Like he had torn the final page out of Isagi's script just before it could be read.
Behind him, Kurona's movement stalled, the shock still lingering in his body.
Ahead—
The flow had been broken.
Snapped.
And now—
It belonged to Rin again.
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