No More Running

Gabriel took a sip of his drink and leaned against the kitchen counter. The cold liquid soothed his dry throat, but his mind was still racing with thoughts from the game, from the conversation with Satoshi, and from the message he had sent.

Satoshi watched him, arms crossed, a small smirk on his face. "You know, you're way too serious sometimes."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "And you're not serious enough."

"Hey, I was serious enough to get a job in Kyoto," Satoshi shot back, though his grin faded slightly. "Didn't exactly work out, but still."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and put his glass down. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you tried your best."

Satoshi clapped a hand on Gabriel's shoulder, his tone becoming softer. "Look, I know you don't like talking about it, but… It's good to see you playing football again. Really playing. Not just going through the motions."

Gabriel didn't respond right away. He glanced down at his hands, his fingers tightening slightly. He knew what Satoshi was referring to. There was a time when he had almost walked away from football completely. When every kick of the ball felt heavy, and every game felt meaningless. But now… something was different.

"I guess," Gabriel muttered.

Satoshi leaned against the counter next to him. "So, what's next? You said the prefectoral tournament is coming up."

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah. We have to win if we want to keep the club alive. The school's cutting funding if we don't show results."

Satoshi whistled. "Damn. No pressure, huh?"

Gabriel exhaled sharply. "It's not just about the club. It's about proving that we can go to the nationals."

Satoshi studied him for a moment before grinning. "Well, if anyone can do it, it's you. Just don't let that ego of yours get too big."

Gabriel scoffed. "Says the guy who got fired from Kyoto."

Satoshi clutched his chest dramatically. "Ouch. That was uncalled for."

Gabriel chuckled, shaking his head. It had been a long time since he had laughed like this.

Tomorrow, training would start again. The real battle was just beginning.

And he was ready.

Gabriel woke up early the next morning, the sound of rain tapping softly against his window. His body still ached from the game, but it was a satisfying kind of soreness—the kind that reminded him he had given his all. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before finally getting up.

Downstairs, the smell of coffee filled the house. Satoshi was sitting at the kitchen table, lazily scrolling through his phone with a cup of coffee in hand.

"You're up early," Satoshi said without looking up.

Gabriel yawned, stretching his arms. "Gotta head to training."

Satoshi chuckled. "And here I thought you'd take a day off after scoring your first goal."

Gabriel shook his head as he grabbed a banana from the counter. "No time for that. Prefectural qualifiers are coming up. If we don't keep training, we'll get crushed."

Satoshi leaned back in his chair, smirking. "You really are serious about this, huh?"

Gabriel peeled the banana and took a bite, his expression unreadable. "If we lose, the club gets shut down. I'm not letting that happen."

Satoshi studied him for a moment before sighing. "Well, just don't overwork yourself. You finally found joy in football again, don't ruin it by pushing too hard."

Gabriel didn't respond right away. He knew Satoshi meant well, but he also knew he couldn't afford to slow down. Not now.

The rain had stopped by the time Gabriel arrived at the field. Most of his teammates were already there, stretching and warming up. Coach Emaon stood near the center, clipboard in hand, observing them all with his usual sharp gaze.

"Alright, listen up!" Coach clapped his hands, gathering the players. "Yesterday was a good game, but it's over now. We've got work to do. If we play like we did in the first half, we won't last long in the tournament. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Coach!" echoed from the players.

Coach Emaon's eyes landed on Gabriel. "You finally found the net, Gabriel. Now let's see if you can do it consistently."

Gabriel nodded. "I'll try."

Training began with intense drills. Passing sequences, defensive positioning, quick transitions—every movement had a purpose. Gabriel felt the weight of expectation on his shoulders, but instead of fear, he felt something else.

Determination.

He wasn't just playing for himself anymore. He was playing for his team.

As they moved into a practice match, Gabriel found himself going up against Jun. The two locked eyes, a silent challenge passing between them.

Jun smirked. "Let's see if that goal yesterday was a fluke."

Gabriel returned the smirk. "Try and stop me."

The ball was played into Gabriel's feet, and in an instant, he spun past Jun, driving forward toward goal.

Jun wasn't about to let Gabriel get past him easily. He recovered quickly, stepping up to close the space. Gabriel could feel Jun's presence behind him, but he kept his focus on the ball. With a quick flick, he nudged it forward and accelerated.

Jun lunged for a tackle—clean, but aggressive. Gabriel barely managed to sidestep, but the slight contact threw him off balance. He stumbled, regaining control just as he entered the penalty box.

Ryota was making a run to his right. Gabriel had two choices—shoot or pass.

He knew what the old him would've done. The Gabriel who had played in Brazil, who had been taught to trust his own instincts, would have taken the shot. But this wasn't just about him anymore.

With a slight shift of his foot, he disguised a shot before slotting the ball to Ryota. The defender had already committed to blocking Gabriel's shot, leaving Ryota with a perfect opening.

Ryota didn't hesitate. A quick touch—then a strike.

The ball hit the back of the net.

A moment of silence. Then—

"GOAL!"

Ryota pumped his fist in the air, turning to Gabriel. "Nice pass!"

Gabriel smirked. "Had to make sure you actually scored this time."

Jun, breathing heavily, placed his hands on his hips. He wasn't mad—if anything, he was impressed. He gave Gabriel a small nod.

"Not bad," Jun admitted. "But don't think I'll let that happen again."

Gabriel grinned. "I'm counting on it."

Coach Emaon blew his whistle. "Alright, that's enough for today. Gather up!"

The players jogged over, still catching their breath. Coach Emaon looked over the group, his expression unreadable.

"We're improving," he said. "But we're still not where we need to be. The prefectoral tournament isn't just about skill—it's about endurance, mental strength, and trust. If we fall apart under pressure, we lose. Simple as that."

The team nodded. They knew what was at stake.

Gabriel exhaled, wiping sweat from his forehead. He was pushing himself harder than ever, but he wasn't the only one. The entire team was giving their all.

As practice wrapped up, Gabriel sat on the grass, catching his breath. He pulled out his phone, checking his messages.

A new one from Mom.

Mom: I'm sorry didn't let you know, that we're leaving but knowing you it won't bother you.

Gabriel typed back.

Gabriel: Well, i just hope you pass good time.

Mom: Thanks, Satoshi told me about your game of yesterday, congrats i'm glad to see your taking pleasure back and that your relation with the team goes well.

Gabriel: Thanks.

Mom: I almost forgot, iv'e left something for you in our room, i think you'll like it.

Gabriel feel confuse looking at her last message.

Gabriel stared at the message for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly. Something for me? His mother wasn't the type to leave surprises. In fact, ever since things had gotten tense between them, their conversations had been short, distant. He wasn't sure what to expect.

Sliding his phone into his pocket, he stood up, stretching his sore muscles. The rest of the team was still chatting, but his mind was already elsewhere.

By the time Gabriel got home, the house was quieter than usual. He dropped his bag by the door and made his way upstairs. His parents' room was neat, just like always, but sitting on the bed was a small, wrapped package with his name on it.

He hesitated before picking it up.

Carefully, he unwrapped it, revealing a worn-out studs.

He take one out and look at it, it was an ancient model from Adidas. 

He look at the boot in his hand try to remember of the name of the model he didn't see something like that since…he left Brazil.

Gabriel swallowed hard.

He picked up one boot, running his fingers over the worn leather, the design instantly familiar. It was an Adidas predator, it was not the new model of today but a retro one. As he look he remark some word were write on the back.

SANTAN.

For a long moment, he just sat there, staring at the words. His chest felt tight, but not in a bad way.

gripping them tightly in his hands.

"So you don't forget about him..."

Maybe, just maybe, he was finally ready to move forward.