A boy walked through the busy streets of Tokyo. His shirt was torn at the sleeves, and his bare feet squished against the grimy asphalt. He didn't own sandals. He had never known the warmth of family parents, home, love and he had long stopped expecting it. His life was empty, routine, cold. But today… today would change everything.
His name was Senjetsu Moichirō, eight years old, small for his age, and alone in the world. He avoided people as a matter of habit, never wanting to be noticed, never daring to speak. Yet as he rounded a corner, he noticed a crowd gathering in front of a small store. Normally, he would have walked past. But something tugged at him curiosity, fragile and unexpected.
"What's happening here? Is something wrong?" he muttered under his breath.
He edged closer and saw a television mounted on the wall. People were glued to it. The sound reached him first:
"FRANCE IS LEADING! GOAL! THIS IS IT! FRANCE IS GOING TO WIN THE 2018 WORLD CUP!"
The voices, the energy, the thrill it consumed him. His small chest rose and fell as if he were breathing fire.
"Amazing… they're playing… I want to be like them."
Nearby, someone scoffed:
"France is better than Croatia. It's obvious."
"I-is that… football?" Moichirō whispered, awe in his voice. "Wow… it's amazing."
For the first time, his eyes sparkled like stars. He turned and ran, heart pounding, but halfway home, reality hit him like a wall.
"I can't… I can't become like them. I don't have money. I don't have clothes. If I ask my aunt for anything… she'll kill me."
He thought of other kids, of friends, of fathers and mothers:
"Dad… look at these boots! Mom bought them for me! I'm going to become like Cristiano Ronaldo! I'll play with Dad's club please, Dad!"
He clenched his fists. Tears blurred his vision.
"They have everything… I have nothing."
Moichirō pushed open the door to his small room or, more accurately, a storage space crammed with old furniture and dust. Sounds came from the next room, strange and unsettling, but he ignored them. Soon, two people emerged: a woman and a man. The woman was his aunt. The man… he didn't know.
"Come back anytime. It's only ten thousand yen per hour," the woman cooed to the man. "We can do five hours… come on, darling."
The man shook his head politely. "Sorry, my wife was calling. I'll come back tomorrow."
They kissed, and he flinched, hiding in the corner.
"Moichirō? Are you there?" his aunt called.
He revealed himself, trembling.
"Oh, my little kid… I got the money. What do you want? I'll buy you anything."
A glimmer of hope shot through him.
"Aunt… I want a pair of boots. I want to play football."
Her face twisted into anger.
"What football? Who do you think you are? You don't have parents, your grandparents were the reason I took you in… and now you ask me for boots? You won't eat until tomorrow."
"Sorry… sorry… please, don't hurt me…" he whimpered, curling into himself.
Her voice softened briefly, then hardened again.
"The neighbor bought a new necklace and ring. Go steal it. Give it to me. If you do, maybe I'll buy you boots."
Hope and despair collided in his chest. He could finally play football. Pain, hunger, fear it didn't matter. He nodded.
The next day, he wore a clean shirt and crept to the neighbor's house. His hands shook as he snatched the necklace and ring and ran back.
"Aunt… I got it. This is what you wanted!"
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the room. Police.
"Mrs. Ren? The neighbor reported a stolen necklace," one officer said. "The child was seen running."
Her tears were instantaneous, perfectly timed.
"Why, Moichirō? You stole? I have money… why? I never want to see you again!"
The officers looked at him. She backed away.
"Take the child. I don't want to see him again."
And just like that, Moichirō's life, already broken, took its first step into a world that would never be gentle.