A Humiliating Defeat

The halftime whistle had blown, but no one in the locker room moved.

The air inside was thick, suffocating. The only sounds were the distant echoes of the crowd and the occasional drip of sweat hitting the tiled floor. Nobody spoke. Nobody even looked up.

Ryota sat with his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the ground. Takahashi leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Kenta wiped his face with his jersey, still catching his breath.

Gabriel sat with his head down, hands clasped together. His fingers tightened, frustration bubbling inside him. His heart was still pounding from the first half—not from exhaustion, but from anger.

Then, suddenly—

Bang!

Gabriel shot up from his seat, slamming his fist against the bench.

"This is embarrassing!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the silent locker room. His breathing was heavy, his glare fierce. "Are we really gonna go out like this?!"

Nobody answered.

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. His chest burned—not from the match, but from the helplessness sinking in.

"They're not even trying!" he continued, his voice rising. "Did you see the way Moriyama reacted after scoring? He didn't celebrate. He didn't even care!" Gabriel turned to his teammates, eyes blazing. "Because to them, this match isn't a challenge! They're not playing at full strength! We're out there, giving everything we have, and they're barely breaking a sweat!"

Still, silence.

Ryota shifted slightly but said nothing. Renji kept his head down, staring at the floor. Even Jun, who had been sharp in defense, remained motionless.

Gabriel clenched his fists.

"Are we really this weak?" His voice dropped, but the intensity remained. "Are we really just gonna let them toy with us and do nothing about it?"

Again—no reaction.

The lack of response hit Gabriel harder than anything Izumi had done on the field.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"Fine," he muttered under his breath. Then, without another word, he dropped back into his seat, slumping against the bench.

Frustration gnawed at him.

What was the point of fighting if no one else was willing to?

As the silence stretched on, the weight of the second half loomed over them like an inescapable shadow. 

The silence in the locker room stretched on, heavy and un-moving. No one spoke. No one even shifted in their seats. The only sound was the distant murmur of the crowd outside, waiting for the second half to begin.

Gabriel sat with his arms crossed, jaw tight, staring at the floor. He had given everything—his voice, his frustration, his anger—and none of it had changed anything. The others remained motionless, lost in their own thoughts.

Then—

Tweet!

The sharp blast of the referee's whistle signaled the end of halftime. It was time to return to the field.

Without a word, everyone stood, moving as if they were on autopilot. Takahashi stretched his arms, Jun rolled his shoulders, Kenta took a deep breath. One by one, they walked out the locker room doors, heading toward the tunnel.

Gabriel didn't move.

"Ryota. Kenta."

His voice was quiet but firm.

The two stopped, turning back to him.

Gabriel exhaled, stepping closer. His eyes were sharp, unwavering.

"From now on, I'm only playing with the two of you."

Ryota blinked, surprised. Kenta, wiping sweat from his forehead, lowered his hand.

Gabriel continued, his voice low but intense.

"The others don't care. They've already lost before we've even stepped back on the field. But we're not going out like that." His eyes locked onto them. "If I pass, it's to you. If I move, it's with you. We fight on our own if we have to."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then—Ryota nodded.

"Got it."

Kenta smirked slightly, shaking his head. "Damn, man. You're really stubborn, huh?"

Gabriel didn't answer.

Kenta's smirk faded, replaced by something more serious. He stepped forward and clapped Gabriel on the shoulder.

"I'm in."

That was all Gabriel needed to hear.

The three of them turned and walked out of the locker room together.

As they stepped onto the field, the second half was about to begin.

Across the pitch, Izumi High stood waiting, their expressions unreadable. They weren't even sweating. To them, this game was nothing more than another routine victory.

Gabriel's jaw clenched.

Not anymore.

He turned to Ryota and Kenta, speaking low enough so only they could hear.

"No more overthinking. No more hesitation. We go at them every chance we get."

Ryota nodded, rolling his shoulders. Kenta cracked his knuckles.

The referee raised his whistle.

Tweet!

The second half was underway.

Izumi High immediately resumed their possession-based play, shifting the ball from one player to another, making Kagoshima chase. But this time, Gabriel, Ryota, and Kenta weren't just running aimlessly.

They were waiting.

The moment the ball moved toward Izumi's midfield, Ryota shot forward, closing in on Izu. At the same time, Kenta cut off the passing lane, forcing Izu to take an extra touch.

Gabriel saw his chance.

He lunged in, foot stabbing at the ball—

And won it.

A rare mistake from Izumi.

Before they could react, Gabriel was already surging forward, the ball at his feet.

Ryota sprinted ahead, Kenta moving alongside him. It was just the three of them now.

Gabriel didn't hesitate.

He slotted a sharp pass to Ryota, who took it in stride, pushing toward the box. Izumi's defenders scrambled, their perfect shape suddenly disrupted.

Ryota reached the edge of the penalty area.

He could shoot—

But at the last second, he cut it back.

Gabriel was already there.

The ball rolled perfectly into his path.

One touch.

One shot.

The strike was clean, powerful—

But Izumi's goalkeeper reacted fast, diving low.

A sharp thud rang out as he punched the ball away.

The rebound spilled loose.

Kenta was already moving.

Without breaking stride, he lunged forward and struck it on the half-volley.

The ball rocketed toward the net.

The goalkeeper couldn't reach it.

Goal!

Kenta let out a sharp breath, turning back to Gabriel and Ryota. No celebration—just a nod between the three of them.

The three of them—Gabriel, Ryota, and Kenta—kept pushing, kept fighting. Every time they got the ball, they attacked. Every time Izumi regained possession, they pressed.

But it wasn't enough.

Izumi High, unshaken, started to play differently. Their crisp passes became sharper. Their movements, already fluid, turned deadly. They had been toying with them before—now they were accelerating.

And Kagoshima couldn't keep up.

Izumi struck again.

And again.

And again.

The score climbed to 3-0 before they even realized what had happened. The gap was too wide. The three of them alone couldn't stop an entire team.

Gabriel clenched his jaw, chest rising and falling as he stood in midfield. His body was sore, his breathing heavy, but his anger burned hotter than his exhaustion.

Then, an opening.

Gabriel won the ball back in midfield, dodging a challenge from Izu with a sharp turn. His vision scanned the field in an instant.

And then he saw it.

Takahashi was making a run.

For the first time all match, the captain had positioned himself in a dangerous spot.

Gabriel didn't hesitate.

With a precise flick of his foot, he sent a deep pass curling over the defense, perfectly placed in the space behind Fubuki. The defender wasn't expecting it, but Takahashi had a chance.

For a brief second, there was hope.

But then—

Takahashi slowed down.

His run, instead of accelerating, faltered. He hesitated, running half-heartedly.

That was all Fubuki needed.

Izumi's defender recovered effortlessly, cutting off the pass and taking back possession as if nothing had happened.

Gabriel's stomach twisted.

He stopped in his tracks, watching the scene unfold, watching as Takahashi turned away, head down, without even trying to fight back.

Something inside Gabriel snapped.

His feet moved on their own as he stormed toward Takahashi. Before he could stop himself, his hand shot out—

And grabbed him by the collar.

Takahashi's eyes widened slightly in shock.

"Why did you stop running?" Gabriel's voice was sharp, filled with disbelief. His grip tightened. "You could've had a one-on-one chance! Why did you give up?!"

Takahashi looked away, his jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

Gabriel's frustration boiled over. His fingers dug into the fabric of Takahashi's jersey as he pulled him in closer.

"You're the captain," he growled, his voice low but seething. "A captain is someone who can unite a team—even in the face of failure. But you... you just gave up."

Takahashi's body tensed, but he still refused to speak.

Gabriel's breath was heavy as he stared him down. He didn't care about the score anymore. He didn't care if they lost every game in the season.

"Losing doesn't define us." His voice was firm, unwavering. "What defines us is how we overcome it."

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then—

"Gabriel, enough!"

Renji and Hikaru rushed in, grabbing Gabriel's arms and pulling him back.

Gabriel's hands trembled slightly as he let go of Takahashi's jersey.

He took a deep breath before exhaling sharply.

"One day," he said, his voice softer now but still filled with conviction, "someone told me—To overcome fear, you must face it head-on. There's no other way."

Takahashi still didn't respond. He just stood there, shoulders stiff, eyes cast downward.

Then—

Tweet!

The referee's whistle rang out across the field.

The game was over.