Playing Alone

The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the school courtyard as Gabriel slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the gates. He had no plans to go to practice. He had proven his point yesterday—there was nothing more to gain from playing with a team that didn't match his level.

Yet, as he walked past the field, he caught sight of Ryota and Kenta among the other players, stretching and preparing for practice. He could hear the coach barking orders, but Gabriel didn't slow down. It wasn't his problem.

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

By the time he reached home, the evening sky had turned a deep orange. Inside, the smell of food lingered, but the apartment was quiet. His mother must have still been at work, and Aiko was probably at a friend's house and Hiroshi he couldn't care less.

Gabriel tossed his bag onto the couch and collapsed beside it, staring at the ceiling. His muscles still burned slightly from the duel of yesterday, but it wasn't exhaustion that weighed on him. It was something else—something he couldn't quite name.

You don't play to win, Gabriel. You play to have fun.

His fists clenched as he remembered his father's voice, firm and unwavering. Football was never supposed to be a war. It was fun.

And yet…

The way Ryota had looked at him yesterday—the way he had challenged him—was different. It wasn't admiration. It wasn't jealousy. Or despise

It was something he never see before and could't put a name on it.

Gabriel exhaled sharply and pushed himself off the couch. He needed to get out of his head.

After a quick shower, he pulled on a fresh shirt and grabbed his phone. He barely use it since he is in japan, but now, his fingers hovered over his messages. There were unread texts from old friend, from back in Brazil.

But not from his father.

Of course not.

Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he grabbed his ball from the corner of the room and stepped outside. If he couldn't get football out of his mind, then he might as well play.

The park near his apartment was mostly empty, save for a few kids kicking a ball around near the benches. Gabriel found a quiet spot near the concrete wall and started juggling.

One. Two. Three.

He moved through drills instinctively—quick taps, flicks, tight control. His body still remembered, even if his mind wanted to forget.

He was so focused that he almost didn't notice when someone sat on the bench nearby, watching him.

"You do this instead of practice?"

Gabriel caught the ball with his foot and glanced up. Ryota.

He leaned back against the bench, stretching his arms over the backrest like he had all the time in the world.

Gabriel sighed. "You stalking me now?"

Ryota grinned. "Nah, I just figured you wouldn't show up. Kenta was pissed. He really wanted a rematch."

Gabriel scoffed. "Didn't i say if i come it wasn't cause of you two."

Ryota laughed. "You're a real ass, you know that?"

Gabriel shrugged. It wasn't the first time someone told him that.

There was a beat of silence before Ryota spoke again, more serious this time. "So? What's your deal?"

Gabriel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You love football. That much is obvious. But you act like you hate it."

Gabriel's foot slipped, the ball bouncing away. He caught it before it rolled too far, but Ryota's words had already hit their mark.

He didn't answer right away. Because the truth was, he didn't know the answer himself.

After a moment, he sighed and picked up the ball. "I don't owe you an explanation, as i know."

Ryota smirked. "Fair enough."

Then, to Gabriel's surprise, he stood up and stretched. "Well, if you're gonna be out here training, might as well have some company."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "You? Train? What i've seen from your team show me quite the contrary."

"Shut up. One-on-one, right now. First to five."

Gabriel looked at him for a long moment. Then, despite himself, he smirked.

"…Fine."

They played until the streetlights flickered on, until their legs burned and their breath came in ragged gasps. Ryota was tough, Gabriel didn't expect this, but he was still on a level he could't reach him. Gabriel won.

But Ryota didn't care about losing. He just grinned, wiped sweat from his forehead, and said, "Damn. You really are good."

Gabriel didn't respond. But as they walked home, something strange settled in his chest.

Maybe Kagoshima High wasn't a lost cause after all.

Maybe—just maybe—he wasn't, either.

Gabriel's body ached when he woke up. His legs were sore, a dull reminder of last night's game against Ryota. He hadn't planned to play, hadn't planned to care, and yet, somehow, he found himself out there.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. His mind was a mess.

You play to have fun.

His father's words again.

Was that really what last night was?

He sat up, shaking off the thought. He didn't need to think about it. He didn't need to think about any of this.

The usual whispers followed him through the hallway when he arrived at school.

"Did you hear? He destroyed Ryota last night 1v1.""Yeah, but he's not joining the team.""I heard the coach don't want to add more player.""What? Why?""No one know."

Gabriel kept walking, shoulders tense. He was surprised people were talking about what happen yesterday, and it annoyed him.

When he stepped into class, Ryota was already in his seat, lounging like he had no care in the world. The moment he saw Gabriel, his usual smirk appeared.

"Yo, superstar."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and dropped into his chair. "Shut up."

A few other classmates turned toward him, curiosity in their eyes. One of the girls, Ayane, leaned forward slightly. "Is it true you beat him that badly?"

"Yeah, he didn't stand a chance," another guy, Daichi, added, grinning.

Gabriel ignored them, flipping open his notebook. "Not my fault if he's bad."

Ryota whistled. "Damn. Cold as ever."

Daichi laughed. "Man, you are cocky."

Gabriel didn't respond. He wasn't in the mood for this.

At lunch, he expected to eat alone. He wanted to eat alone. But Ryota and Kenta dropped into the seats across from him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Gabriel sighed. "What now?"

Ryota grinned. "Relax, we're just here to eat."

Kenta scoffed. "And to talk about how unfair it is that our coach won't let you in."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "That's your problem, not mine."

Ryota leaned forward. "Yeah, but it's weird, right? We need players, and you're obviously better than most of us. But Coach refuses. Won't even tell us why."

Gabriel shrugged. "I don't care."

Kenta stared at him, unimpressed. "You're lying."

Gabriel stopped mid-bite. His jaw tightened slightly. "What?"

"You do care," Kenta said. "I don't know why you're pretending you don't."

Gabriel set down his chopsticks. "I don't."

Ryota watched him carefully. "Then why won't you join?"

Gabriel tensed. He had seen this coming. Kenta wasn't an idiot—he had been poking at him since yesterday.

"I mean, yeah, we suck," Kenta continued, "but that's not a reason to turn us down. It's obvious you love football." He tilted his head. "So why?"

Gabriel clenched his fists under the table.

He doesn't know what he's talking about.

He wanted to shut it down. Wanted to tell them to drop it. But his throat felt tight.

"I have my reasons," he said flatly.

Silence fell over the table.

Ryota and Kenta didn't push, but the weight of the question still lingered in the air.

Gabriel didn't wait for the conversation to pick up again. He stood, grabbing his tray. Without a word, he walked off, leaving them behind.

Back in class, he felt restless. His fingers tapped against his desk, his eyes fixed on a spot on the wall.

Kenta's words wouldn't leave his head.

It's obvious you love football.

His jaw tightened.

Yeah? Then why does it feel like it's the thing suffocating me the most?

And no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it wouldn't go away.