Start.

Despite the tension hanging thick in the air, training continued. The drills ran as scheduled, passes exchanged, shots taken, defensive patterns rehearsed—but it was all mechanical. The usual energy was missing, the fire that should have been there in the final days before a crucial match was nowhere to be found.

Gabriel could feel it. The hesitation in every touch, the lack of urgency in their movements. It gnawed at him like an itch he couldn't scratch. Even Ryota and Kenta, who had backed him earlier, seemed distracted, their play lacking its usual edge.

Takahashi played, but his movements were sluggish, like he was just going through the motions. The rest of the team followed his lead, playing with a weight dragging them down. It infuriated Gabriel, but no amount of effort on his part could break through the wall of indifference surrounding them.

The only thing keeping him from exploding again was knowing that words wouldn't change anything—not right now.

So he let his game speak instead.

He ran harder, called for the ball more aggressively, and went in for tackles like his life depended on it. He forced himself into every play, making sure they felt his presence. If he couldn't get through to them with words, then he'd show them what it meant to fight.

But even then, no one matched his intensity.

By the time practice ended, Gabriel was drenched in sweat, frustration boiling beneath his skin. The team gathered near the sideline, catching their breath as Coach Emaon walked over, clipboard in hand.

"Listen up," Coach's voice cut through the silence. "I'm about to name the squad for the Izumi High match. If you're not called, you're not on the list."

A few of the younger players tensed, hoping to hear their names. Others looked indifferent, as if they already knew what was coming.

Coach glanced at his list and started reading.

"Ryota. Kenta. Daichi. Takahashi."

No surprise there—Takahashi was captain, and the other three had been consistent starters.

"Renji. Hikaru. Jun. Akira. Gen."

Gabriel noticed some nodding, others barely reacting. A few of the players whose names weren't called sighed, some already starting to grab their bags.

"Kirin. Joon."

Gabriel felt his pulse quicken slightly. Only one spot left.

"And Gabriel."

Some heads turned at that.

Gabriel clenched his fists. He had expected it, but still… hearing it confirmed made his chest tighten.

"That's the twelve who are being called up for the match," Coach continued. "If your name wasn't mentioned, you won't be playing. Pack up."

The players started to disperse. A few of the ones left off the list muttered amongst themselves, but there were no arguments. No complaints. They just… accepted it.

Gabriel shook his head.

They were too used to losing. Too used to being ignored, discarded.

As the team headed for the locker room, Gabriel caught up to Ryota and Kenta.

"That was pathetic," he muttered under his breath.

Ryota sighed. "I know."

Kenta rubbed the back of his neck. "It's hard to blame them, though."

Gabriel stopped walking. "Why? Because the club's getting shut down?" His voice was sharp. "So what? You think Izumi High is gonna take it easy on us because we've got problems?"

Ryota and Kenta stayed silent.

Gabriel exhaled, trying to steady himself. "We've got one chance to prove we can plays together, then why the hell are we acting like it doesn't matter?"

Neither of them had an answer.

And that pissed him off even more.

As they stepped into the locker room, Gabriel made a silent vow.

If nobody else was going to fight for this team, then he'd just have to do it himself.

The locker room had been quiet after training, but the weight of reality still pressed down on Gabriel's chest long after he left. He walked home alone, hands stuffed into his pockets, his mind still replaying the day's events.

The team had given up before they even stepped onto the field.

Takahashi, their captain, had resigned himself to defeat.

And yet, Gabriel was expected to play alongside them tomorrow against Izumi High—a team that wouldn't hesitate to crush them.

He clenched his jaw, his frustration burning like a wildfire in his gut.

Was he really the only one who still cared?

When he got home, he tossed his bag onto the floor and collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. His body ached from pushing himself harder than anyone else during practice, but his mind wouldn't let him rest.

The reality of the club's situation loomed over him.

If we lose, it'll just prove them right—prove that shutting us down was the right decision.

The thought made his stomach turn.

He wasn't stupid—he knew that one match wouldn't magically fix the school's financial problems. But that wasn't the point.

It was about proving something.

To the school.

To his teammates.

To himself.

He grabbed his phone, scrolling through the team's group chat. Messages were sparse. A few of the non-selected players had sent half-hearted "good luck" texts, but most of the squad hadn't said a word.

Takahashi had left the group hours ago.

Gabriel exhaled sharply.

He was sick of this.

Before he could stop himself, he opened a private chat with Takahashi and typed out a message.

Gabriel: If you're not gonna fight, don't bother showing up tomorrow.

He stared at the screen for a moment, then hit send.

The message was read almost immediately.

But Takahashi didn't reply.

Gabriel tossed his phone aside, his jaw tightening.

Fine. Let him ignore it.

Tomorrow, he'd make sure the team had no choice but to fight.

Even if he had to do it alone.

The stadium wasn't anything special—just an average high school field with worn-down bleachers and a handful of students scattered across them. Izumi High's team was already warming up on the other side, their passes crisp, their shots sharp.

Kagoshima Club, in contrast, looked sluggish.

Gabriel scanned his teammates as they stood in the tunnel, waiting for the signal to enter the field. Their body language said it all—shoulders slumped, eyes distant. Even Ryota and Kenta, the ones who had stood with him in the locker room, seemed hesitant.

Takahashi stood at the front of the line, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

Gabriel's fists clenched at his sides.

No fire. No urgency.

It was like they were walking to their execution.

A sharp voice cut through the air.

"Oi, ain't this is Kagoshima player!"

Gabriel turned, his eyes locking onto a figure standing near the entrance to the field.

Keiji Moriyama—Izumi High's captain.

Moriyama smirked, arms crossed over his chest. "I heard your club's getting shut down." His voice was loud enough for the whole team to hear. "Guess that makes this your last match, huh?"

A few of Kagoshima's players flinched.

Gabriel's blood boiled.

Moriyama's smirk widened. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you go out with a nice, humiliating loss."

Gabriel took a step forward, but before he could respond, Takahashi spoke.

"We'll see," he said simply.

Moriyama raised an eyebrow. "That so?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Man, you guys really are pathetic."

With that, he turned back to his team.

Gabriel exhaled sharply, glaring at Takahashi. "That's it? That's all you have to say?"

Takahashi didn't answer.

The official called for the teams to enter the field.

Gabriel took a deep breath.

This was it.

Whether they wanted to or not, they had to fight now.

And if they weren't ready to—

He'd make damn sure they were by the time the whistle blew.

As both teams lined up for the pre-match introductions, Gabriel scanned the field, sizing up Izumi High's squad. They stood tall and confident, completely unfazed. Meanwhile, Kagoshima's players looked stiff, their body language show that they were uncertain.

The announcer's from Izumi voice rang through the stadium speakers.

"Starting lineup for Kagoshima Club!"

Joon stood between the posts as the goalkeeper, his eyes focused but his body tense.

In defense, Jun and Hikaru took the fullback positions, while Kirin and Akira held down the center. A solid back-line—on paper, at least.

Their midfield consisted of Renji, Kenta, and Gen, tasked with controlling the tempo and shielding the defense.

And then there was Gabriel. The lone attacking midfielder, positioned just behind the strikers, responsible for linking the midfield and attack.

Up front, Ryota and Takahashi were their strikers.

"And now, for Izumi High!"

Their goalkeeper, Ataka, was known for his quick reflexes.

Their defensive line featured Jin, Woon, Fubuki, and Haru—a strong, disciplined back four some to say the best in the region.

In midfield, Ryujin and Izu sat deep, controlling possession and dictating the pace, while Akon roamed ahead as an advanced playmaker he is see as one of the future star of japan and known to share similarities in his game with the Spanish midfielder Isco.

And then there was their deadly attacking trio—Aiko on the left, Kintaro on the right, and Moriyama as the lone striker.

Gabriel's gaze locked onto Moriyama, Izumi's captain.

Unlike Takahashi, Moriyama carried himself like a leader. He smirked as he caught Gabriel looking.

"Try to keep up, will you?" Moriyama taunted as the teams shook hands. "I'd hate for this to be too easy."

Gabriel didn't respond. He didn't need to.

The referee signaled for both teams to take their positions.

Gabriel exhaled sharply, eyes fixed forward.

This was it.

The whistle blew.

The match had begun.