[Ian’s POV]
I still rember 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 so 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 thodical 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 up against you, my chest almost exploded. It was my chance to prove myself
I rember the ball I got in midfield, and sohow, even though I can’t rember how, I made a pass — but it was too fast, too violent... it just went out of bounds
You looked at like I disgusted you
"Your pass is shit, Ian, no one in the world can control a ball sent like that. Try aiming for sothing more beautiful", you said
I just stared at you. I didn’t know what to say, so I just took it
Every ti I tried to copy your passes, with those curves you gave the ball, mine didn’t even co 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 sothing that seed 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 ti the ball flew away, stiff, straight, soulless... I’d hear your voice echo in my head:
"Your pass is shit, Ian",
Every ti in training, you mocked , put down, said it was impossible for 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... beca 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 complint still aid 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 ti until I surpassed you
But deep down, Takumi — deep down, I hated myself
Not for being , but for trying to be you
You beca the standard. The model. The cursed idol everyone wanted to see again on the court — even if it was through
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 , 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 t Kelvin, I realized maybe there was soone who could understand . In the semifinal match, that instinct I once had returned — and I didn’t even notice. In that mont of rage, I made that sa pass you once criticized... and he got to it
That’s when I realized sothing
Since you, Takumi, are the elegant midfielder with beautiful passes...
I’ll beco 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 ga, 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 sa boy from before
His posture was upright, his gaze heavy, dense... carrying sothing 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 sa 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 nutgged 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” ga
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 seed 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 movent 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 ti
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"
Reviews
All reviews (0)