Barely six minutes into the start of the game, Ryo was already on the attack. When the opponents extended themselves too much, their forwards became isolated. With no clear way forward, the ball remained stagnant in the midfield, and Ryo wanted to punish them for their mistake.
He observed the ball, and the moment it came towards his side of the field, he ran to apply pressure. Given the slow pace that had persisted since the start of the game, nobody on Alto had been expecting Ryo to suddenly dash for the ball.
The midfielder receiving the pass had his body turned toward the center and never saw Ryo closing in. Only when he saw the panic on his teammates' faces and their frantic gestures did he realize he was being pressed. But by then, it was far too late.
Ryo swiftly took the ball away before the midfielder could control it, and with a seamless shift in movement, he brought the ball upfield. From where he had stolen the ball, most of the opposing players were already behind him, with only a few scattered up ahead.
Running up the left side, Ryo stayed close to the touchline and waited for the opportune moment to send the ball away.
Come on… Open up some space in the middle.
Ryo kept moving forward, his eyes scanned for a weakness—an open spot left unmarked by the defense. If he could see an open space to pass into, then so could his teammates. But he was running out of time.
He was being closed in from every direction: a defender in front, the player from whom he had taken the ball chasing behind, and another midfielder coming in from the side.
I don't have a strong enough attack to justify using misdirection right now. Plus, I don't think I need to use it. They are spread far enough apart that I can play around them.
But Ryo didn't need to dribble past them. With three people coming to pressure him, Alto's entire formation shifted towards the left, leaving some wide-open spaces on the right flank.
And Ryo spotted the best opening, just off the right corner of the penalty box. As his next stride reached the ball, instead of tapping it forward again, Ryo slammed his foot down in front of it, completely stopping his forward momentum and angling his body towards the box. The ball bounced off his foot, and with a slight nudge, Ryo set up the ball and lobbed it across the entire field towards that open space.
And moving into that very space was Ren.
Throughout the year, this had been one of their most effective plays—one they had done countless times. Ryo would run up along the left side, and Ren would stay on the right, where spaces would eventually open up. Whenever that happened, Ryo would send a cross over the heads of several players and have it land where Ren was waiting, often with little opposition.
Of course, Ryo would send the ball to whoever had the most space, but most of the time, that person happened to be Ren. It was, in practice, a play that was quite difficult to defend against. That's what made it so effective. If the opponents decided to go all out in hopes of stealing the ball from Ryo, then the rest of the pitch would be wide open.
On the other hand, if they didn't pressure Ryo hard enough, hoping to actively guard the center, Ryo would have free rein over the left side of the pitch, which was just as dangerous. It took a very precise balance of pressuring Ryo and covering each lane to properly defend against the attack.
So after the ball left his foot, Ryo observed the situation around Ren to determine where to go to support him. Having more options was always better, so that extra support was needed whenever possible. He saw the defenders shift their focus once again, with the one closest to Ren being the first to move.
Is that the defender who was staring me down earlier? Number 4… Wait, isn't the number also printed on the front of his shorts? How did I miss that when he was standing right in front of me?
Alto's tall number 4 ran towards Ren, tracking the ball's descent with his eyes, determined to stop the attack.
Ren, unfazed by the approaching defender, controlled the ball smoothly as it dropped down, and without hesitation, shot the ball with his right foot—all in one motion.
The ball shot away from him, curving towards the top left corner of the goal, hoping that their goalkeeper would stop it.
People in the stands started making noise at the sudden scoring opportunity, their volume continuously rising, and the tension climaxing as the ball spun closer and closer—
CLAAANG!
For a moment, the entire arena froze. The cheering died down, the goalie crashed onto the ground, and the coaches on the side remained silent, all watching the ball land close to the stands.
In a moment of luck for Alto, the ball hadn't dropped enough and hit the crossbar before ricocheting upwards and flying out of play behind the goal. Ryusei didn't even have a chance at a rebound, but the metallic ring of the crossbar still resonated in the arena. Alto's defense had been thoroughly beaten, but they were saved by the crossbar.
Ren clicked his tongue but quickly turned around, already moving into position to receive the goal kick, unaware that everyone was watching him much more intently now.
Damn, Ren barely missed. On top of that, the bounce was really unlucky, so we didn't have a chance for a rebound.
Ryo smiled as he retreated to the midfield to reset.
It's alright, though. We'll have many more chances to score, especially with how rattled Alto looks right now.
—————————————————————————————————
In the commentator booth, both Sakamoto Hiroshi and Inoue Sayaka were shocked by the near miss that had just taken place, but they upheld their professional commentary despite that.
"Wow… that was far too close for comfort. In less than a minute, the mood of the game completely shifted. It started with Ryusei's 18 stealing, then launching a cross all the way to their number 10."
Hiroshi jumped in immediately. "And don't overlook number 10's shot, Inoue-san. He controlled the ball, set up his shot, and swung through all in one smooth, connected movement. He didn't hesitate to take the shot despite being off-center and outside the box."
"Right, of course," she replied, flipping through the rosters spread out in front of her. "We introduced these two players during warm-ups, right?"
"Yes, we did. Number 10 is the team's right forward and ace, Aoyama Ren," Hiroshi said. "As it turns out, he not only is the highest scorer in their league, but also the highest scorer in the prefecture. Across all four groups in the prefecture, he topped the list with an impressive thirty-two goals."
By this point, the game had resumed, but neither commentator expected anything explosive just yet, so they continued talking.
"That's not even the most impressive thing," Hiroshi added. "What's most impressive is that he's only a fourth-year student. If he's already this good, I can't imagine how many goals he'll have in two more years."
Sayaka nodded. "I completely agree, Sakamoto. Since most of the players in the U-12 division are 5th and 6th years, we don't see many 4th years become top scorers in their group. To overcome that difference in age and play better than your seniors requires a lot of skill."
She looked down at the roster again and noticed something she hadn't seen before. "What about Ryusei's 18? He was one of the top scorers in his group, too, right?"
Hiroshi thought for a second before answering. "Yes, Ryusei's number 18: Aoyama Ryo. With twenty-one goals, he is the third-highest scorer in the group, only three goals behind the second-best scorer."
"The fact that two of the best three scorers in their group come from the same school is rather interesting. But they both share the same name—are they related?"
"I'm not sure," He answered after looking down at his roster. "However, I just noticed something else quite interesting."
Hiroshi looked at his colleague, almost dramatically, as if he were about to reveal breaking news.
"Ryusei's number 18 is a first-year student."
Sayaka took a moment to process what he said. She had noticed that the roster listed him as being six years old, but she hadn't put together the fact that it meant he was a first-year student.
But Sayaka didn't have any time to follow up on the topic when Hiroshi suddenly sprang up from his seat, abruptly resuming his commentary on the game.
"Ryusei is launching another attack, once again up the left side of the field! Number 18 has the ball, but nobody is pressing on him. After that last play, they're terrified of leaving space on the other flank."
Sayaka, paying attention to the game once more, joined in on the commentary. "But if they don't pressure him, then he'll be able to run the ball all the way up. Alto is in a tough position here."
"Number 18 is approaching the defending line—what's he going to do? Number 10 is being heavily marked; their other forward is not in a good spot either."
"He's passing it back to his captain in the middle. Alto's defense is closing in—the captain passes it straight to number 10."
At this point, the two commentators were firing off their words rapidly, their thoughts spilling out as the play accelerated.
"Number 18 cut inwards and is now open and asking for the ball. A chance has opened up; number 10 sees him and passes back! 18 is all alone! He takes the shot—"
"Gooaaalll!"
"Goooaalll!"
Both commentators shouted, their voices swallowed up instantly by the eruption of the crowd.