Ficool

Chapter 3 - the roots of talent

Seven years had passed like the blink of an eye. The chubby toddler who once chased a ball around the backyard had grown into a lean, agile boy, with white hair cascading softly to his shoulders and those piercing blue eyes, always glowing like sparks under the sun.

Raphael Caicedo had just turned seven years old, and his life was about to change again.

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A New Bond

It was a summer morning when he heard his father's joyous shout echoing through the house. Raphael sprinted to the living room, his heart pounding as if he had just scored a goal. Ferdinand met him halfway, his face lit up with a smile, his eyes glistening with tears.

"Raphael! She's here! She's here!"

The boy froze for a second, then widened his eyes.

"A… little sister?"

"Yes!" Ferdinand cried, lifting him into the air just like he used to when Raphael was small. "You're a big brother now!"

Raphael smiled but said nothing for a few moments. Inside him, a strange feeling bloomed—not sadness, not jealousy, but something else. A new responsibility. A simple yet powerful thought: I'll protect her. Always.

When he saw the baby for the first time, wrapped in a pink blanket in his mother's arms, the world seemed to slow down. Her tiny face, her closed eyes, and dark hair so different from his own.

"Her name will be Maya," Kaede said, her voice tired but glowing with pride.

Raphael reached out with a small, trembling hand, brushing his fingers against hers.

"Hi, Maya…" he whispered, with a tenderness that surprised even his parents.

From that day on, the bond between them was unbreakable.

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Relentless Training

But while love for his little sister filled Raphael's heart, his mind burned with a different obsession: football.

At seven, he wasn't just a kid playing for fun anymore. No. He had already begun to develop a mentality no other child his age possessed. A mentality… of a professional.

Every day after school, he ran to the backyard—whether under the scorching sun or heavy rain. Two hours, three, sometimes four, without stopping.

Dribbling through cones, shooting against the wall, controlling the ball with his eyes closed.

Every movement was fueled by one silent, almost obsessive thought:

I have to be better. Faster. Sharper.

Ferdinand often watched from the window, hidden behind the curtain. He rarely intervened. There was no need to push Raphael—he pushed himself, every single day.

Sometimes, when Maya was asleep, Raphael would tiptoe to her crib, gazing at her with a soft smile.

"One day, you'll come to the stadium to watch me… and you'll be proud," he whispered.

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The Years of Domination

Between the ages of seven and ten, Raphael made a leap no one could have imagined. He joined a small local youth team, and from the first training session, it was obvious he wasn't like the others.

"How old is this kid?" whispered parents on the sidelines as they watched him move with the grace of a seasoned player.

Elegance. Speed. Ball control that hypnotized. He wasn't just good—he was terrifying.

Every match was a show. Dribbling past two, three defenders, threading impossible passes, curling shots that left coaches speechless.

At eight years old, he was scoring over fifty goals a season. At nine, he was already playing two age groups above his own.

And still… it wasn't enough.

Every time he left the pitch, he went home and trained even harder. He watched videos of top players, breaking down their movements, practicing them until exhaustion.

If he failed, he didn't get angry—he became hungrier.

Learn. Improve. Surpass.

It was as if a fire inside him never went out. A fire born from a past life, from a promise made in the dark.

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The Strength of Family

Despite his obsession, Raphael wasn't just a football machine. He was also a loving brother. Maya grew up surrounded by his laughter, clapping her tiny hands every time he showed her a new trick.

"Look, Maya!" he'd say, grinning as he flicked the ball through his legs.

The little girl would squeal with delight, eyes wide in admiration.

Ferdinand and Kaede were proud—but worried too.

"Isn't this too much for his age?" Kaede would often ask.

Ferdinand shook his head. "Raphael… is different. We can't stop him. All we can do is support him."

And that's what they did. They drove him everywhere, cheered him on, but never forced him. Everything came from him.

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The Shadow of the Future

By the age of ten, Raphael had become a legend in local youth leagues. Everyone talked about him:

"Have you seen number 10 from Caicedo? He's a monster!"

"They say he plays like an adult… but he's only ten!"

But deep down, Raphael knew it still wasn't enough. Despite all the victories, despite the youth trophies, he felt the world out there was vast, ruthless.

And he… had to conquer it.

Every night, when the house was quiet and Maya slept in the room next door, Raphael lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He didn't know why, but a strange melancholy crept in during those moments. Memories that weren't memories. Flashes of giant stadiums, an azure jersey, a crossbar trembling under the weight of a shot.

And a voice, distant, whispering:

"Your time will come. But the price will be high."

Raphael clenched his fists.

No matter the price. This time… I will win.

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