Bachira Meguru always seemed to be playing a different game.
Where everyone else measured angles, stamina, and strategy, Bachira ran on instinct. Smiles flashed constantly across his face, sharp and unpredictable, like he was daring someone—anyone—to try and catch him. His eyes sparkled as he skipped past defenders in warm-ups, pretending it was a joke, but the speed was real. Too real.
Riku watched him quietly from midfield. There was no system telling him what to do this time. He didn't need it. Bachira's presence alone made the field unpredictable.
"You see?" Bachira called out to no one in particular. "Football's supposed to be fun! Don't you feel it?"
Kunigami groaned. "Fun isn't a goal. Winning is a goal."
Chigiri stayed quiet, arms crossed, watching Bachira's every movement. The way Bachira twisted past defenders, feinting, spinning—it made Chigiri nervous. Not because he couldn't do it, but because it wasn't supposed to be that easy.
The scrimmage began. Team Z moved more cautiously now, still recovering from Chigiri's breakthrough and the previous losses. Bachira ran circles around their nervousness. He dribbled past defenders as if gravity itself were afraid to hold him down, then passed in unpredictable ways that forced Isagi to think differently, Kunigami to adjust his positioning, and Chigiri to push through hesitation.
"Catch me if you can!" Bachira shouted mid-spin.
The words were loud, but it was the chaos behind them that mattered. Team Z had to respond. They couldn't just move forward; they had to anticipate, adapt, and trust each other.
Riku passed silently, staying low-profile as usual, letting the chaos guide him. And yet, the instinctive pull of Bachira's unpredictability was contagious. He felt the team's dynamic shift in subtle ways. Kunigami began covering spaces proactively, Chigiri's hesitancy turned into bursts of speed, and Isagi's eyes lit with understanding—they were learning, just by reacting to Bachira.
At the end of the scrimmage, the scoreboard didn't matter. Team Z had moved together for the first time. They weren't perfect—but for the first time, they felt alive on the same field.
Bachira landed on his knees, laughing, panting, spinning a ball on his finger. "See? This is what football is! Fast, fun, messy—alive!"
Riku, watching silently, smiled faintly. Chaos like this didn't make sense. But he could feel its purpose.
Even in a system designed to crush ego, sometimes the monster that smiles was the only thing strong enough to wake it.