The System Makes Me a Player

[Ian's POV]

I still remember that first practice, when I was in eighth grade… and you were there, Takumi, in ninth — your last year at school

It was just a scrimmage between younger students and some of the seniors. I was still small, thinner, insecure… a kid with brand-new cleats and a racing heart, hoping to prove I deserved to be there

You were the school's star, already wearing the number 11 back then, with that quiet, serious, and methodical attitude of yours. Everyone talked about you. They said you never missed a pass. That you never smiled, never looked at anyone, as if you were always ahead of us, living in another speed

I just wanted to be noticed

That day, when the coach put me up against you, my chest almost exploded. It was my chance to prove myself

I remember the ball I got in midfield, and somehow, even though I can't remember how, I made a pass — but it was too fast, too violent… it just went out of bounds

You looked at me like I disgusted you

"Your pass is shit, Ian, no one in the world can control a ball sent like that. Try aiming for something more beautiful", you said

I just stared at you. I didn't know what to say, so I just took it

Every time I tried to copy your passes, with those curves you gave the ball, mine didn't even come close

And even so, I kept trying

Every single day after practice, I stayed another hour alone on the school court, kicking the ball against the wall. Hidden, because I didn't want anyone to see how bad I was at something that seemed so easy for you. I set up cones, pretended I had teammates, went around and around until my feet hurt, until the ball lost air

And every time the ball flew away, stiff, straight, soulless… I'd hear your voice echo in my head:

"Your pass is shit, Ian",

Every time in training, you mocked me, put me down, said it was impossible for me to ever go pro — with that disgusting smirk of yours

And that's why I changed. I never again managed to make those fast, wild passes. The ones I used to love… became normal passes. Soulless. Just like you

When you left school, I had to take your position, and the comparisons were brutal. It was always:

— Takumi was better

— Last year's midfielder was superior

And I swallowed it all

Swallowed every comparison

Every compliment still aimed at you, even when you were gone

Even when you didn't play there anymore

At first, I forced myself to smile

Pretended I didn't care. Told myself it was normal… that it was just a matter of time until I surpassed you

But deep down, Takumi — deep down, I hated myself

Not for being me, but for trying to be you

You became the standard. The model. The cursed idol everyone wanted to see again on the court — even if it was through me

And I hated you for that

I hated you for leaving behind a shadow so big I couldn't walk without tripping on it

I hated you for making look easy what, for me, was a daily fight

And more than anything… I hated myself for still wanting your approval

My passes stopped being firm, stopped being instinctive. I started playing the way I thought people expected. Safe touches, predictable, acceptable. Soulless — just like you said

But when I met Kelvin, I realized maybe there was someone who could understand me. In the semifinal match, that instinct I once had returned — and I didn't even notice. In that moment of rage, I made that same pass you once criticized… and he got to it

That's when I realized something

Since you, Takumi, are the elegant midfielder with beautiful passes...

I'll become exactly what you hate the most

I'll be destruction itself on this court

I'll be the goddamn disaster that shatters you and your damn pride. I'll break your beautiful little game, and I'll show you the power of destruction

***

[Back to the match]

The ball rested under Ian's foot, but he didn't seem like the same boy from before

His posture was upright, his gaze heavy, dense… carrying something old, suffocated for years

Leo cautiously approached, but stopped two steps away, frowning

"What the hell", he muttered

It was as if the court around Ian had gotten darker. A strange heat. An intense vibration. A destructive instinct

Ian took a deep breath, his eyes locked on Takumi standing ahead, wearing the same calm, analytical expression as always. But inside, even he could feel the air shifting

And that bothered him

Leo charged again, fast

Ian didn't hesitate

With a dry flick he nutmegged Leo. The ball slipped between his legs before he could even react

The sound of the ball bouncing echoed like a drumbeat. Ian spun around, left Leo behind, and surged through midfield

"Hey, Takumi", he paused, "you can keep your damn beauty. I'd much rather have aggression and destruction… because he's here now"

The words sounded like a sentence. Ian was no longer that hesitant boy from the past, blinded by Takumi's shadow. Now, his eyes burned. Not with hatred… but with a primal instinct. A hunger to break everything. To destroy the "beautiful" game

Takumi stopped at midcourt, ahead of him, and stared back. Silent as always — but with a slightly furrowed brow. It was rare to see him show discomfort

Kelvin, nearby, could feel it too. The air around Ian seemed denser, almost electric. He knew: the pass was coming

Then… Ian took a deep breath

His left foot moved with brutal precision

The ball exploded forward

A dry, violent pass — a low strike that cut across the court like a bullet. The sound echoed through the gym

In the stands, Kazama shot up, jaw dropped

"WHAT KIND OF PASS WAS THAT"

Dante, beside him, widened his eyes

"That… that didn't even seem human"

The ball flew right behind Takumi — so close that the air movement lifted his shirt. He turned, surprised, but it was already too late

Kelvin was already there

[Skill Activated: Offensive Instinct]

As if he had read Ian's mind, Kelvin pushed forward with a single burst of speed

No pause

No touch

He fired it first time

The ball smacked the net violently

GOAL

The net rippled for long seconds. The crowd erupted in celebration

But Ian… he didn't celebrate

He just walked slowly, eyes still locked on Takumi, who stared back

"You understand now, Takumi", Ian said, still breathless, "I never really liked beautiful things, you know? I've always preferred destroying them"

Kelvin reached his side, panting, smiling

"Dude… what the hell was that? Your pass was insane"

"Insane", Ian smirked, "we're gonna win this match, Kelvin"

In the stands, Kazama and Dante remained frozen. Silence between them. Until Dante muttered, almost breathless

"Ian… he's different"

Kazama crossed his arms, his gaze sharp

"I think he finally showed his true self"