Chap7: Next Step

The whistle blew — kick-off.

We started with possession, calmly building up play with short passes. The crowd's cheers rumbled.

A few minutes into the game, Nakai slipped a clean pass to Ide near the box, but before he could turn, a defender slid into his legs.

"Foul!" the referee called out, raising his whistle high.

"Orochi, you're taking it!" Coach Ikeda shouted from the sideline.

I stepped up, placing the ball. I took a deep breath, backed up a few steps, then charged.

The shot flew with a perfect curve, bending toward the top corner.

"This one's in…" I thought for sure.

But at the last second, Nakanishi, the Naniwa goalkeeper, leapt into the air and punched it away with both hands.

"Tch… I was sure it was going in."

Before we could react, Naniwa launched a swift counterattack. Their winger burst down the sideline, drawing gasps from the crowd.

But our midfield regrouped fast, Kuramochi intercepted a pass just past the halfway line, regaining control.

The momentum was back in our favor.

The ball was now at Mihashi's feet on the left wing. He sent a sharp pass toward the center, but it took a deflection and rolled toward my side.

I sprinted after it, beating my marker by steps, and took control without slowing down.

Cutting inside toward the box, I lined up the shot — right outside of the boot.

The ball curved as I wanted her to do, catching the goalkeeper completely off guard as it whipped into the far corner of the net.

"GOOOAL!! Orochi scores! 1-0 for Azumaichi!" the commentator's voice exploded over the speakers.

The crowd roared, rising to their feet, I could hear my name being shouted from the stands.

We regrouped quickly, resetting our positions as the match resumed.

A few more minutes of play followed, then the halftime whistle blew. We jogged back to the locker room.

"You're playing well." Coach Ikeda began, arms crossed. "but stop rushing your plays, you're giving the ball away too easily."

We nodded, catching our breath as he gave us a few more tactical pointers. After some water and quick stretches, we returned to the pitch, ready for the second half.

This time, Naniwa kicked off.

They quickly advanced toward our box, moving the ball with sharp passes — but Soda read the play perfectly. With a clean sliding tackle, he stripped the ball from their winger.

"Forward!" he shouted, launching a long pass downfield.

I darted forward, chasing it down. One-touch control. Perfect.

I turned, locked eyes on goal, and cut past the last defender. Now it was just me and the keeper. He rushed out to close the angle.

I didn't hesitate, I chipped it cleanly over him.

"DOUBLE! Once again, Orochi amazes us!" the commentator roared, his voice nearly drowned out by the eruption of the crowd.

2-0.

A few minutes later, we created yet another chance and converted it.

"GOAL by Ide! 3-0! This match is completely one-sided!" the commentator shouted, the crowd roaring in response.

There was a quick kick-off, but the moment they touched the ball, the final whistle blew.

"The winners of the match: Azumaichi! But the overall champions of the 33rd Azumaichi–Naniwa inter-club competition... are Naniwa!"

The crowd applauded both teams, showing appreciation for the effort on both sides. We lined up and bowed, saluting the opposing team and the fans in the stands.

After the formalities, I jogged over toward where my grandparents were sitting.

"That was magnificent!" my grandfather exclaimed with a proud smile.

—

A few days later...

I was in my room at home.

"So that's why you live here now... I get it." Soda said after I'd just finished telling him what led me to leave Tokyo for Osaka.

"Boys, come down and have a snack." my grandmother called from downstairs.

We headed down and thanked her for the gesture. She turned on the TV to the news while we started eating.

"The next step is the national tournament, the real competition." Soda said after taking a sip of his drink.

"Exactly… the real competition," I echoed, narrowing my eyes.

Then the news anchor's voice caught our attention. "We inform you today that Brazil's number 10, Roberto Hongo, officially ends his football career due to a retinal detachment condition."

"No way, he's retiring?!" Soda exclaimed, jumping up from his chair in disbelief.

"He has to, Makoto… If he keeps playing, he could go blind." I replied.

"That's crazy." he said as he sat back down. "...About the national tournament, they ultimately decided not to merge the city teams."

"So there will be no tryouts." I said.

"Exactly. Get this, over in the Shizuoka region, there's a team made up of players from four different schools, I think." he told me.

'He's definitely talking about Nankatsu.' I thought to myself while sipping a glass of juice.

"No matter what." I said. "in the end, we just have to win."

He nodded in agreement.

Later that week, after school, we were towards the end of training…

"Come here for a second, Orochi." said Coach Ikeda, calling me over during a break.

I walked toward him. "What is it, Coach?"

"I've noticed you've been trying to develop your own shot style lately." he said, looking at me with his usual sharp eyes. "How's that going?"

"You're right." I replied honestly. "And to tell you the truth, I think I'm onto something. I just need time to refine it."

"I see. Good." the coach nodded, then added in a firmer tone. "But listen, Orochi, I know right now you probably don't feel like there's anyone around you quite at your level. Still, don't get complacent."

"Don't worry, Coach. I'm well aware of that." I replied confidently, meeting his gaze.

"The level will rise from now on." 

I nodded. 'Even if I stand out here… I haven't forgotten the level of players outside Japan.'