Learn To Trust

The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the field as Gabriel and his teammates stood together, their expressions tense with determination. The weight of the conversation with Director Moriyama still sat heavy in his chest, but seeing his friends' resolve only reinforced his own. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but he knew now—he couldn't walk away from this.

That night, Gabriel barely slept. His mind replayed everything: the match, the way they collapsed under pressure, and the director's words. If we don't make it past the prefectural, the team is done. The thought keep hitting him. Football had always been his passion, but now he carried a responsibility bigger than himself.

A few days after, Gabriel arrived at the practice field earlier than usual. The crisp air filled his lungs as he set down his bag and looked out at the empty field. If they wanted to turn things around, they needed to start immediately.

"Didn't take you long to step into the role."

Gabriel turned to see Ryota jogging up, grinning. "You were the one saying I should do it."

Ryota stretched his arms over his head. "And I was right. So, what's the plan, Captain?"

Gabriel sighed. "I'm not the captain."

"Yet," Ryota teased before getting serious. "You're not planning to run us into the ground already, are you?"

Gabriel smirked slightly. "Not yet. But we need to change things. We don't just need to train—we need to play like we mean it."

One by one, the rest of the team arrived, murmuring about the early practice. Takahashi walked in last, his expression unreadable. Gabriel could feel the tension between them, the weight of an unspoken conversation hanging in the air. He had always respected Takahashi as a senior, but even he knew that leadership wasn't about just wearing the captain's armband—it was about being able to carry the team, especially when things got tough.

As the team huddled around, Coach Emaon arrived, watching them quietly before stepping forward. "I hear some of you have already been told," he said, his sharp gaze scanning the players. "Gabriel's been offered the role of vice-captain."

Murmurs rippled through the team. Some looked surprised, others thoughtful. A few, like Daichi and Kenta, looked completely on board. But Gabriel's eyes drifted toward Takahashi, whose expression remained neutral.

Coach Emaon continued, "Nothing changes immediately. But if you want to keep this team alive, we need a new mindset. Gabriel, you wanted this team to be stronger. Show me how."

Gabriel took a deep breath and stepped forward. This was it. His first test as a leader.

"Last Day, we lost because we played scared," Gabriel started. "We gave up as soon as things got tough. That has to stop."

Daichi nodded. "Yeah, but how do we fix something like that?"

Gabriel looked around at his teammates. "We don't just train. We have to change our way of thinking. We need to play every match, like it's our last. We have to push each other to be better."

The team exchanged glances. Some nodded in agreement, others looked unsure. Takahashi finally spoke. "It's easy to say, but harder to do."

Gabriel met his gaze. "Then we prove it on the field."

Coach Emaon smirked. "Good. Then let's see what you've got."

The next two weeks were brutal. Gabriel pushed himself harder than ever, and in doing so, he pushed the team with him. Morning drills started earlier, practice lasted longer, and every mistake was called out. It wasn't just about skill—it was about breaking old habits, about building something stronger.

It wasn't easy. The tension between Gabriel and Takahashi grew. They were both strong personalities, and while Takahashi had the title of captain, Gabriel's influence over the team was growing.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling session, Takahashi pulled Gabriel aside.

"What are you trying to do?" Takahashi's voice was low, but there was frustration in his tone.

Gabriel wiped sweat from his brow. "What do you mean?"

"You think pushing them harder is going to magically fix everything?" Takahashi crossed his arms. "You're making them exhausted."

Gabriel frowned. "You think we'll get anywhere if we keep playing the way we did before? We lost because we weren't ready. If we don't step up now, we never will."

Takahashi's jaw clenched. "I'm the captain, Gabriel."

Gabriel met his gaze, unwavering. "Then lead, remember your the one who ask my help."

Takahashi exhaled sharply but said nothing. After a moment, he turned and walked away.

Gabriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew this wouldn't be easy, but the rift between him and Takahashi had to be addressed sooner or later.

The following days passed in a blur of grueling training sessions, tactical discussions, and endless drills. The air on the practice field had shifted—no longer filled with aimless chatter but with an unspoken determination. Gabriel could see it in the way his teammates moved, the way they pushed through exhaustion instead of complaining, the way they fought for every ball during scrimmages.

But not everyone was adapting at the same pace.

Takahashi, despite his skill, remained distant. He followed the training, played his role, but Gabriel could feel the strain in the air every time their eyes met. He wasn't just resisting the training—he was resisting change itself.

Gabriel knew he had to address it before it became a real problem.

One evening, after an intense practice session, most of the team had already left the field, leaving only a few stragglers stretching or collecting their gear. Takahashi sat on the bench, wiping sweat from his face with a towel, lost in thought.

Gabriel took a deep breath and walked over. "You free for a bit?"

Takahashi glanced at him, then sighed. "What is it?"

Gabriel sat down beside him, choosing his words carefully. "Look, I know this whole situation isn't easy. But I'm not trying to take your place."

Takahashi didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stared out at the empty field, his grip tightening around the towel. "You think I don't know that?" he muttered. "I asked for your help because I knew the team needed something. But now it feels like I'm being pushed aside."

Gabriel frowned. "That's not what's happening. You're still the captain, Takahashi. But leadership isn't about doing everything alone. It's about making sure the team doesn't fall apart."

Takahashi exhaled slowly. "And you think I haven't been trying?"

Gabriel softened his tone. "I know you have. But sometimes, being a leader means accepting help, not just giving it."

Silence hung between them for a moment before Takahashi speak. "You're really serious about this, huh?"

Gabriel smirked. "Wouldn't be here if I wasn't."

Takahashi looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "Alright. Let's see if you can back up all this talk on the field."

Gabriel grinned. "Deal."

A week had passed since the team had intensified their training, and the effects were starting to show. The tension that once existed between Gabriel and Takahashi had settled into a mutual understanding. It wasn't exactly friendship, but they were learning to coexist—both recognizing that their ultimate goal was the same.

After another exhausting practice session, the team gathered around Coach Emaon, expecting the usual review of drills and tactics. Instead, the coach had a different kind of announcement.

"We've arranged a new friendly match," Coach Emaon said, his arms crossed. "It's set for next weekend."

A murmur ran through the team. Friendly matches were normal, but the timing was unexpected. They were still fine-tuning their strategies, still adjusting to Gabriel's influence as vice-captain.

"Who's the opponent?" Takahashi asked.

Coach Emaon's lips curled into a small smirk. "Tsurumaru High."

Silence. Then, a few scattered reactions—some groaned, some tensed, and others exchanged uneasy glances.

Gabriel blinked. The name wasn't unfamiliar. Tsurumaru High… why did that sound so—

Then, it hit him.

The arcade.

His jaw clenched. He glanced at Ryota, who was already looking at him with wide eyes. Kenta, standing nearby, swore under his breath. Even Daichi, who usually wasn't fazed by much, muttered, "Oh, this is gonna be a problem."

Gabriel exhaled sharply. The guys from the arcade—the ones who had been bothering Ayane before things escalated into a fight—were from Tsurumaru High.

"Of all teams, it had to be them?" Ryota muttered.

Coach Emaon raised an eyebrow at their reactions. "I take it some of you are already familiar with them?"

"You could say that," Gabriel said, his tone unreadable.

Takahashi noticed the shift in energy and frowned. "What happened?"

Ryota ran a hand through his hair. "Let's just say we ran into a few of their guys recently. It… didn't go well."

Kenta scoffed. "More like it almost turned into an all-out fight."

Gabriel sighed. "From what I saw, they're the type that like to provoke people."

Daichi crossed his arms. "They didn't exactly seem like the friendly match kind of team."

Coach Emaon listened, then simply shrugged. "Then that makes it even better."

The team turned to him in confusion.

"You're going to face teams like this in the tournament," the coach explained. "Teams that won't just beat you with skill, but will try to get inside your heads, rattle you, and break your focus. If you can't handle them in a friendly, how will you handle them in an actual competition?"

Gabriel couldn't argue with that logic, but something still didn't sit right.

"Just focus on the game," Coach continued. "Whatever happened before, leave it off the field. If they try anything, don't react. Understood?"

There were a few hesitant nods, but the unease in the air was undeniable.

Gabriel stayed behind after practice, his mind still processing the news. He didn't doubt that Tsurumaru would recognize them, and he knew they wouldn't let the arcade incident go.

A friendly match? This was going to be anything but friendly.