Chapter 2: I tried my best

**GOOOOOAAALLLLL!!!**

The crowd erupted with cheers as the opposing team scored their fourth goal. The excitement in the stadium was palpable; West University was on the verge of breaking East University's long-standing dominance in the finals. It was an unexpected turn of events, given that East University had won every final since the dawn of their time.

But not this time. Thanks to their relentless training and practice, West University had exploited a single glaring weakness in East's defense—Miya Shikamaru.

'Shit, why are my teammates looking at me like wolves?' Miya thought, scanning the angry, disappointed faces of his teammates. The belief they once had in him had all but vanished.

"You friggin' bastard! Can't you see we're losing because of you? If you can't play, then go warm the bench!" one player hissed angrily, storming past Miya, his fists clenched in frustration.

The player probably wanted to punch him, but a red card would only make things worse. Miya felt the weight of his failures crushing down on him. He wondered why he was still on the field, unable to move an inch. Was this truly his will, or was he just paralyzed by fear and guilt?

He glanced over at the coach, searching for any sign of support or guidance. Instead, he received a dismissive wave, a clear signal to get off the field.

'Just as I thought, they don't believe in me anymore...' Miya felt a pang of despair. He trudged along the grass, feeling utterly drained. He knew it was for the best; he was no longer fit to play and—

"Miya! You bitch, what are you doing?!"

Startled, Miya whipped his head around, realizing the game was already back in play. His eyes darted frantically, searching for the ball. There it was, with the opposition, speeding towards their goal. The player, fresh and energetic, was aiming for the weak spot in their defense—Miya's position.

"Out of my way, runt!" The opposing player barreled past Miya, leaving him reeling from the impact. The disdain in his teammates' eyes burned into him.

'This feeling of failure, being kicked off the team, knowing I'll ruin the careers of ten other players... It's really... interesting.' Miya thought bitterly. He dug his shoes into the grass, his body suddenly electrified with a newfound resolve. He swerved sharply and sprinted towards the opposing player.

To everyone's astonishment, Miya caught up with the player in seconds, pressing him and deftly stealing the ball. The opponent stumbled forward, unable to believe what had just happened.

"Hehehehe! This is getting interesting now!" Miya muttered to himself, a manic grin spreading across his face. He took a deep breath and sprang back into action, his mind calculating the possibilities.

Two strikers were racing towards him, flanked by two midfielders—a left and right winger. The forward midfielder was advancing with the strikers. They were all tense, knowing Miya's unpredictable nature and skill could either make or break this crucial play.

Miya surveyed his options. Near the kickoff line was one of his favorite left wingers, Ken Hughes, wearing the green uniform with the number eleven. With a powerful lob, Miya sent the ball curving around the field. His teammates and opponents alike were left stunned, their eyes wide with anticipation.

As the ball arced through the air, it felt like time slowed down. The tension was palpable; everyone held their breath. The ball landed perfectly in Ken's path.

'Nice pass, Miya!' Ken thought, charging forward with renewed vigor. His career depended on this moment, with scouts from various clubs watching intently. Scoring now could be the turning point of his life.

'I've got to score this goal...' Ken pushed himself harder, adrenaline surging through his veins. He entered the penalty box, where two defenders immediately closed in on him.

"Pass to me, Ken!" a teammate shouted, but Ken ignored him.

"I'm open!" another screamed, but Ken's determination to score overshadowed everything else. He believed that being the goal scorer would give him the best chance of being scouted.

This proved to be a fatal flaw.

Unbeknownst to Ken, a defender had crept up behind him. In a split second, the defender executed a perfect slide tackle, stripping the ball from Ken's feet and sending him sprawling to the ground.

'Damn!' Ken cursed, hitting the turf hard. His eyes immediately locked onto the ball, now loose in the penalty area with no one around to take advantage. 'This is my chance! I can't miss it!' He scrambled to his feet, but—

The goalkeeper was quick to react, sprinting towards the ball with all his might. There was only one minute left in extra time, and the East University team wasn't about to let their opponents score another goal.

The West team, too, pushed themselves beyond their limits, driven by a mixture of regret and fierce determination. This was why they played football—not just for a trophy, but to prove something deeper.

"To prove to the world that football is the war that decides if I live or die! Football is the air I breathe, and I'm choking for some air from the net!" Miya's thoughts roared in his mind, fueling his actions.

The crowd was on its feet, the tension unbearable. Then, in a heart-stopping moment, the ball landed at Miya's feet—number twenty-two. He had the ball, and more importantly, he had space. The goalkeeper was out of position, giving Miya a clear shot at the goal.

'I have it... A hundred percent chance to score.'

Everyone's hopes, the fans' cheers, his teammates' faith, and his own career—all rested on this moment. This was not just any goal; it would be Miya's hundredth, a milestone that could define his entire career.

'The only reason I passed to Ken was so I could set this up. This will be my final goal and... my hundredth goal...'

"Miya Shikamaru is about to take the shot and score his hundredth goal! Nothing is stopping him from winning this match but himself!" the commentator's voice boomed, barely audible over the deafening cheers.

In that split second, Miya felt the weight of everything lift. He was in the zone, completely focused. He swung his leg back and struck the ball with immense power.

SPLAKKK!

Just before the ball could cross the line, a defender launched himself from the left, heading the ball with such force that it rebounded off the bar and out of bounds.

"Impossible! But yet, the East team refuses to let West University score!" the commentator exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.

The final whistle blew, and reality hit. They had lost.

Miya dropped to his knees, the weight of the defeat crushing him. The stadium was a mix of jubilation and despair. West University's players and fans celebrated wildly, while East University's side was steeped in disappointment.

Miya stared at the ground, grappling with the bitter taste of failure. They had come so close, but in the end, it wasn't enough. The dream was over, and the reality was harsh.