Vin fell into a dash as he chased after Juke. They ran neck and neck besides each other, the ball barely an afterthought as they juggled it between kicks and lunges. Neither held it for any longer than a second or two, and neither made any ample progress as they danced around the center of the pitch.
"So you do see it!
There was motion to the world. It carried the air and the ground and even space itself…and Vin saw it all as the ball twisted at the base of his boot. He tapped lightly against its slick surface with the outer-edge of his cleat and spun the ball passed Juke. With a lithe step, he pushed passed the scrawny boy and fell into the motion of power that seemed to push him through the world.
"You!"
Vin dribbled past four defenders with minimal effort: a slight adjustment of the ball, a kick to left, and a sharp turn on the right—and he was through. He leveraged his height and body weight against the smaller players when necessary, and abused their focus as they worriedly navigated the tremors he seemed to stir within their minds.
Flicking, Vin kicked the ball into the air and twisted on the spot. As momentum pulled his foot around, he snapped back with his leg and struck the ball with far more power than was necessary. It arced and curved with unnatural trajectory, passing right by Juke's head and into the top-left of the goal once again.
"Gooal! Ashrun have found an ace of their own!"
Another ten minutes passed: four more goals.
It wasn't luck or even a sudden outburst of latent power.
Vin was simply better. He knew it and felt it within…the world seemed to react to his every decision. The ball was simply an outlet for his judgment. Scoring was not wining, however - and Vin knew it. He had been a player before his sudden epiphany…he knew how to play football before playing god.
"Charles!"
Sliding passed both center-mids, Vin tapped the ball gently and passed to Charles. He fell into a sprint behind him and slid right passed the right-back, taking the ball back from Charles as he lunged to the left. The ball curved towards the box as he kicked…and he curved towards the ground as he fell, his balanced suddenly disrupted.
Vin heard the groans and whines of his teammates and the crowd as the ball narrowly missed the goal, but his focus was elsewhere. He gazed down at the large hole he'd dug into the ground…and at the mass of earth clinging to his left-foot.
"Since when could you do that?"
He glanced up and took Charles' hand. Both fell into a light jog as the defenders passed the ball in the back. "Not until just now…it felt wrong, though - it wasn't natural."
"Nutjob," Charles muttered. Vin fell into a slow walk beside him as the ball was stolen from Damien and passed back into their half. "You're moving too quickly…randomly, as well. Doesn't look normal. You sure you haven't taken something?"
Vin shook his head. "No…I haven't—sure as hell feels that way, though. I don't get it…Juke seems to, though."
They both watched as the slender boy weaved in and out of defenders, struggling to find an opening as Darrow and Galen locked him down. He wasn't as quick as Vin had been running, but he clearly had better endurance and experience with whatever this…flow was.
Vin blinked both in confusion and excitement as the ball rolled to his feet. He traced its path along the slick grass to Darrow and Juke as they ran side by side, however…he didn't care for it. Just before they arrived, Vin stepped over the ball and placed a hand between them. "Wait a moment…I've nearly got it."
Less than a week had passed since that Whiteheart game and Vin already felt as though he'd lived a lifetime playing and watching football…all that time and experience seemed to flow through him as he took the ball in his feet. It wasn't just the ball, though - it was everything. Him, the field, the game - victory, all in one.
"You called it flow," Vin mused, eying Juke as he tried pushing passed Darrow. "Flow…I get it now."
Kicking the ball up, Vin lunged into the air and slashed at the airborne sphere with his weak foot. It curved through the air landed directly at Damien's feet. Vin fell and landed on his haunches, but he couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the notion and prospect of flow. Was this what victors experienced? Had the great players of the world lived their entires lives in a constant state of experience, as if they were playing football at all times?
Vin shot to his feet and paced after Juke as he dashed towards Damien. All players stood frozen on the pitch…not frozen…they were moving, but both he and Juke seemed to exist upon a field of their own as they clashed for possession.
Damien staggered backwards as Vin cupped the ball with his foot. He let it roll up the back of his boot and chipped it over Juke as he arrived after him; and he couldn't help but laugh at the him as he stumbled into his teammate.
The world seemed to flow through Vin as he struck the ball. Power, luck, talent - his aspect of the flow surged into the ball and placed it directly in the center of the net as it shot through the Darcrest defense.
There was no screaming crowd or virulent roar of his teammates when he scored. The stadium was silent, and every player marched back to their familiar patch of grass as the game continued. The same whistle signaled the start of it once again, and it set into motion the flow of Vin's aspect as he stole the ball away from Darcrest.
As Vin understood it, his awakening…the uncovering of his aspect, seemed an inevitability. Had he not stumbled upon what it meant to play football a week prior, then perhaps a week later…or a month…or a year - it didn't matter when, only the how and why: Vin possessed both. All that stood in his way was time.
"No team has ever scored fourteen goals." Coach Gath's spoke with the familiar tone of an older man well into his late-forties. The same coarse, scratchy inflection stained his father's voice as much as the coach, however the way in which he spoke…he seemed almost disappointed. "There were scouts today…is that why?"
Vin shook his head. "No."
"No," Gath repeated. "Then what stopped you from performing like this in any other game we played this year? I know we're still early into the first semester, but there were losses that could have been avoided with games like today." He set his notebook down and nodded an affirmative confirmation. "Keep it up, son. I expect the same effort with our provincial run."
"Speaking of which…when is that? Me and the boys wanted to do some scouting of our own…"
The coach chuckled as he sat himself down. Vin knew his parents were waiting outside the office, however he couldn't help but want to satiate his growing desire.
"You play Crestfall next week. They're a first division academy. We lost to them last year in the same tournament...they're probably expecting a similar result." Coach gaff shook his head as he leaned back into his chair. He played with what little remained of his graying hair. "Go get some rest, lad; I'll see you for training tomorrow."