Beyond the Pitch

Gabriel exhaled, steadying himself as he stood at the center of the small-sided pitch. The sun bore down on them, and the air buzzed with anticipation. Players shifted on their feet, muscles tense, eyes locked onto the ball.

The captain Takahashi—stood across from Ryota, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The rest of his team, all seasoned players, positioned themselves around the pitch. They looked confident, controlled. Gabriel knew they'd played together for years, their chemistry strong.

In contrast, his own team had never played as a unit.

This was going to be tough.

One of the player raised a hand.

"Game on!"

The whistle blew, and instantly, the match exploded into motion.

The opposing team started in possession. Their midfielder received the ball cleanly, his first touch controlled, and immediately passed to the wing. Gabriel's eyes locked onto their formation, his mind already working.

Takahashi darted forward, demanding the ball. The pass came quickly, but Daichi was already there, using his size to block off space. Takahashi, however, was sharp. He feinted left, then spun right, sending Daichi stumbling.

"Daichi, stay with him!" Gabriel shouted.

Takahashi fired a sharp pass to his teammate, who took a powerful shot toward the goal.

Takechi reacted fast, diving to his right.

Thud!

The ball slammed into his gloves. A solid save.

Gabriel exhaled. Good. We're not breaking this early.

Takechi quickly rolled the ball out to Kenta, who took off down the side. Gabriel and Ryota sprinted forward, closing in on space. Kenta, under pressure, looked up for options.

Gabriel signaled with a quick nod.

The pass came.

Gabriel took it smoothly with the inside of his foot, feeling the weight of the ball as he turned. An opponent rushed at him, trying to close him down fast.

He stayed calm.

A quick sidestep—then a flick past his marker.

Now, space opened up.

Ryota was already moving, his instincts razor-sharp.

Gabriel didn't hesitate. He threaded a through-ball between two defenders. Ryota exploded forward, his speed unmatched. He met the ball in stride and fired a shot.

The goalkeeper reacted, lunging forward.

Smack!

A desperate save.

Ryota cursed under his breath as the ball deflected out of bounds.

Gabriel took a deep breath. He was beginning to feel it—the rhythm of the game, the push and pull of movement. It was different from his past one-on-one duels.

This was a real match.

And he was back in it.

As the game continued, Gabriel paid attention.

Takahashi was their key player—every attack flowed through him. He was strong, fast, and had an aggressive playstyle. But he also relied on quick one-twos with his midfielders to advance.

Gabriel turned to Kenta. "Mark number ten tighter. Don't let him turn so easily."

Kenta nodded, adjusting his positioning.

On the next play, when Takahashi received the ball, Kenta pressed up immediately, cutting off his usual passing lanes. Forced to hesitate, Takahashi tried to dribble instead.

Gabriel stepped in.

A quick tackle. Clean.

Possession won.

He turned the play instantly, feeding Ryota a pass. Ryota, with his sharp reflexes, flicked it over his defender and volleyed.

Goal.

1-0.

Ryota pumped a fist in the air. "That's more like it!"

Gabriel smirked. But he knew better than to celebrate yet.

This was just the beginning.

The opposition came back harder.

They moved faster now, passing with more urgency. Takahashi stopped holding back. He danced through their midfield, using feints and sharp cuts to bypass Kenta and Gabriel.

Gabriel barely had time to react before a pass was fired through their defense.

A shot came.

Boom!

The net rippled.

1-1.

Gabriel clicked his tongue. He readjusted just as fast as we did.

But he welcomed the challenge.

The game became more intense. Each team pushed harder, neither willing to give an inch.

Ryota scored again with a clinical finish.

Takahashi responded with an assist, leveling it to 2-2.

Gabriel started asserting more control in midfield, dictating their tempo. Kenta supported him well, linking passes, disrupting plays. Daichi, despite still being shaky, held his ground.

Then, Gabriel saw his chance.

He intercepted a sloppy pass near the half of the field.

In an instant, he accelerated forward, pushing past two defenders.

The goalkeeper rushed out.

Gabriel remained composed.

A simple toe-touch lobbed the advancing goalkeeper and the ball nestled comfortably in the net.

3-2.

His first goal.

It wasn't a real game, but the sensations felt at the time were.

Fatigue was starting to show on both sides. Players breathed heavier, movements slightly slower. But nobody let up.

Gabriel's team struck again. Ryota, ever the opportunist, pounced on a loose ball and slammed it home.

4-2.

Just one more goal to win.

But Takahashi wasn't done yet.

He took charge, carving through the midfield. Kenta tried to stop him—failed. Daichi stepped up—got bypassed.

Takahashi shot.

Takechi got a hand to it.

The ball rolled to another player, who tapped it in.

4-3.

The pressure was suffocating now.

Gabriel clenched his fists. This next play decides everything.

Gabriel received the ball in midfield. Immediately, two defenders closed in. He was trapped.

Or so they thought.

A feint. A step-over. A quick change of pace.

He slipped through the gap, breaking free.

Ryota was ahead, making a run. But Gabriel saw another option.

Instead of forcing a direct pass, he faked it—then flicked the ball sideways to Kenta, who had moved into an open space.

Kenta wasn't expecting it, but he reacted fast.

One touch.

Then strike.

The ball curled past the keeper's outstretched hands.

Goal.

5-3.

Game over.

Silence fell over the field.

Then, Ryota let out a loud cheer, punching the air. "Hell yeah!"

Kenta wiped sweat from his forehead, exhaling in relief. Daichi patted Takechi on the back.

Gabriel simply stood there, heart still pounding.

He had done it.

No—they had done it.

Takahashi walked up, looking annoyed but also… impressed. He met Gabriel's gaze. "You're not bad."

Gabriel smirked. "I'm still not in my best form."

The coach, who had been watching silently, finally spoke. "Gabriel."

He turned to face him.

"You're in."

A slow grin spread across his face.

Behind him, Ryota clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to the team."

Gabriel exhaled, tilting his head toward the sky.

Maybe this was exactly where he was meant to be. 

Gabriel let out a breath as he tilted his head back, gazing at the sky. The adrenaline was fading now, replaced by a deep, aching fatigue. His legs felt like lead, and his muscles burned from the intensity of the match. It had been a long time since he had played like that and had felt this kind of exhaustion, the good kind, the kind that came from giving everything on the pitch.

With a sigh, he dropped down onto the artificial turf, resting his forearms on his knees as he tried to steady his breathing.

Ryota and Kenta walked over, both grinning.

"You dead already?" Ryota teased, nudging him with his foot.

Kenta smirked, holding out a hand. "C'mon, get up. You're making us look bad."

Gabriel exhaled a short laugh before grabbing their hands. With a firm pull, they hauled him up to his feet. His body protested, but he rolled his shoulders and shook out his legs.

The sharp whistle of the coach cut through the air. "That's it! End of the training session!"

As the other players began dispersing, the coach's gaze landed on Gabriel. "Gabriel, with me. Club room."

Gabriel nodded and followed him off the field.

Inside the club room, the scent of old paper and sports gear lingered in the air. The room wasn't big—just a few lockers, a whiteboard covered in scribbled tactics, and a desk where the coach sat. What caught Gabriel's attention, though, were the stacks of envelopes piled on the desk. He glanced at them briefly but didn't dwell on it.

He sat down, resting his hands on his knees.

The coach leaned back in his chair, studying him for a moment before finally speaking.

"Let's start the formalities. My name is Rikuo Emaon. I'm the coach of this team, and I expect respect—not just for me, but for the captain and the team as a whole."

Gabriel nodded. "Got it."

Coach Emaon opened a drawer and pulled out a crisp piece of paper, sliding it across the desk.

Gabriel picked it up and skimmed the text. His brows furrowed. "What's this?"

"Your club registration form," the coach replied. "If you want to be considered an official member of the team, I need a signature from your parents."

Gabriel tensed slightly, his fingers tightening around the paper. His expression remained neutral, but inside, something twisted.

"...Does it have to be both parents?" he asked, his voice casual but careful.

The coach raised an eyebrow. "At least one of them has to sign."

Gabriel let out a short breath and gave a small, forced grin. "Fine..."

Coach Emaon didn't press further. "That's all when you got all the info ready just give it to you homeroom teacher. You're free to go." As he simply gestured toward the door. 

Gabriel nodded, standing up and tucking the form into his pocket. As he stepped out of the club room, he was met with a familiar sight—Ryota, Kenta, and Daichi leaning against the wall, clearly waiting for him.

Ryota smirked. "Took you long enough."

Kenta crossed his arms. "So? What did he want?"

Gabriel exhaled, pulling the paper out of his pocket and waving it slightly. "Just the usual. Paperwork."

Daichi raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"

Gabriel gave a nonchalant shrug. "Yeah. I just need to get it signed."

Ryota studied him for a moment before grinning. "Well, welcome to the team, officially."

Gabriel smirked. "Not official yet."

"Sale thing," Ryota shot back. "Now c'mon, let's grab something to eat. I'm starving."

Gabriel glanced at the form in his hand one last time before stuffing it back into his pocket.

But for now, he let himself focus on the here and now.