Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Where…the heck was he?

The last thing Ashito remembered was his soft fluffy mattress in Qatar, where Esperion Youth was participating in the tournament against Youth teams in other countries. 

But now he’s sitting on prickly grass, metal pole against his back and sweat rolling down his face. His breathing’s labored and his vision dark as if his head was covered by something ( a white towel? ). 

There were noises coming out from his left, the sound of an older woman nagging, voice high and fast but Ashito can’t make sense of what she was saying. His brain felt scrambled and he wants to panic, but finally the voice registers and he whispers out a soft,

“...Mom?”

A beat passed.

And then another.

Before his forehead suddenly stings with pain and he can’t help but rolled on the ground. 

Oddly enough, the pain cleared his head a bit. He took a look at his surroundings and realized he’s in his middle school jersey, his mom next to him, and they were at that fated tournament where he blew a fuse and got himself a red card. And also, did his mother just headbutted him?? Seriously, he didn’t even said anything bad this time. 

There were suddenly two more people in front of him, his old middle school coach and their manager. They were explaining something about how some principal of a high school football team was watching and bla bla blah Ashito wasn’t listening. He's got more important things to think about. 

He rose to his feet and quickly took off, ignoring his coach’s words and his mom’s screaming for him to get back.

His feet lands him on the road next to the beach. He breathes the oceans’ air in.

Once.

Twice.

Before continuing his trek. He needs to clear his mind more.

Chapter Text

As he was running, Ashito can’t help but think to himself,

Why the hell can’t they , whatever they is that brought him here, sent him back by just a few minutes?? Just  a few moments before he practically bulldozed over that kid who talked shit about his mom ( fuck him, by the way, Ashito still holds a grudge against that snot-faced-brat no matter how old his mental age is ). He wouldn’t be in this situation right now if it wasn't for that. Granted, it leads to that whats-their-name high school declining their offer, which leads to him meeting Fukuda-occhan and making his way to Esperion. 

But still, it was such a bad first impression! It could be what potentially made Occhan hesitate to give him a full scholarship ( and you bet Ashito would push for a scholarship this time, his family’s been scraping as it is and he’s sure Esperion of all clubs could afford to accommodate two scholarship students in his year ). 

To this day, he’s still not sure why Occhan gave him an invitation even after all the ruckus he caused. He knew from his experience (cough eavesdropping cough) in Esperion that Occhan’s dream was to make the perfect team, and he was planning to put Ashito as one of its members. But is it really worth it for Occhan to bet one of his dream team roster to a scrawny kid from the seaside that had zero base skills whatsoever in football? 

Ashito shook his head to clear those sorts of thoughts away. Don’t get him wrong, he’s eons better now at basic skills than he was when he played football for fun, thanks to Asari and Kuroda. He should be fine now, though he still has loads to learn ( he’s an avid believer that you won’t stop learning till the day you die, and not to rely just on his physical prowess or stamina, not that he had either ). Could even bet that he’d manage to amaze Occhan and Nozomi-san in the try-outs.

He could see the old man, in his peripheral vision, acting cool with his phone in hand and motorcycle beside him. Right in the same meeting place they met last time. He couldn’t help to feel giddy at seeing him again. Only a couple hours and he had already missed Esperion and the people in it ( even a certain glaring upperclassman, but you didn't hear that from him ). 

Ashito stops on his tracks, glaring at Occhan with the full distrust of a kid in a town where everyone knows everyone. It wouldn’t do to be overtly familiar, but he also wants to change some things this time around. Preferably smooth talking Fukuda into giving him a scholarship.

“Who are you, old man? You a creep? Should I be informing the locals-”

Fukuda barked a laugh at that, before quickly introducing himself, “No, no. I’m Fukuda Tatsuya. A coach from a football team in Tokyo. I saw you play earlier.”

Huh. A direct conversation this time, is it because he changed things up a bit? 

“Let me ask you just this one question. Come with me.”

Ashito nodded and followed the man down to the beach, where he searched for a stick before squatting, hands deftly drawing the sketch of a football court with the expertise of someone who had drawn hundreds of it before. 

Ashito bored his eyes into his future mentor, “Are we talkin’ tactics? Cause I have zero interest in them.” which made Fukuda chuckle.

“Just humor me for a bit, yeah?”

After scourging his wallet for some coins ( and why the hell does he need that many coins anyway? ) Fukuda then began monologuing the way the goal was made, how somehow the ball kept going back to Ashito, how it’s a one-man-show, and all that. 

Ashito has heard this all before last time, even by other coaches and his own, but it still made something in his heart bubbled inside. Because it was a team goal, dammit. It still surprises him how narrow other peoples field  of vision was, even Occhan who became a legendary player in his own time.

Ashito grabbed the wallet roughly and shook out more coins until all of it represents each and every one of the 22 people in the court. He shouted it loud and clear as last time, his teammates assistance which abled him to score the goal. 

After he finished, he peeked a glance at Occhan. The old mans’ eyes were wide but he was grinning widely, which sent shivers down Ashito’s spine. Really, Occhan should be glad Ashito found him first before the locals did. That look would haunt little kids. 

The man hurriedly went upstairs to his motorcycle, grabbing something in its trunk before going to the sand again, a brown file in his hand. He practically throws the paper in front of Ashito who's still kneeling on the sand ( which, rude) and let Ashito read its contents. 

“An…invitation? To a J-league youth team?” Ashito stared at the piece of paper in his smaller-than-he-remembered hands as if it was precious. And by his eyes, it may as well be gold, or even more than. 

Fukuda nodded as if that answers everything, and turned to leave. 

“Not a scholarship?”

The older man’s steps faltered, and he turned back to see Ashito in a sitting position, hands still on the piece of paper but eyes piercing through Fukuda’s as if challenging him.

Fukuda sighed and scratched the back of his neck, before lowering himself into a squat next to Ashito.

“You know how many kids are dying to be in Esperion Youth? I know you’re from the countryside, but Youth teams aren’t like highschool footballs, where even kids who can’t play football can be in the roster if the numbers lacks. In Youth, all the people there, they live and breathe football. You might shine here, but what makes you think you could survive in a community like that?”

Ah, that’s the Occhan that Ashito knows and loves. For all that Fukuda tried to appear as the ‘fun-teacher’, he’d always revert to tough love when he was being serious. Ignoring him when he has nothing to say, cruelly changing his position with no warning whatsoever, never elaborating what he meant so his students can learn on their own, one hundred percent putting his expectations without any regards whether the person could shoulder it or not. That’s the type of coach Fukuda was like. 

A total 180 to Nozomi-san who looked like a killer-coach at first, but was actually the softest coach Esperion has. Even more than Coach Tsukishima, And that’s saying something.

Ashito had never been deceived by Fukuda’s eccentric mannerisms since day one. He knew there were some screws loose in his coach’s head. He felt newfound respect for Nozomi-san now for dealing with Fukuda-occhan for who knows how long. 

And he could hear the hidden meaning of Fukuda’s words, 

‘Do you think you're worth all the money and time we'll spent on you? ’

He knows. He knows his single performance on that middle school tournament wasn’t enough to land him a full scholarship. But,

But,

Like all the times he plays football, the faces that appears in his head was one of his older brothers’ and his mothers’.

“Then I’d just have to go to a regular highschool, huh Occhan?”

As much as it pains him, he’d never do what he did twice to his only two family members. He was younger then, and more naive. He never took account how much money needed just for sending him to Tokyo, pocket money, football equipments. He didn’t know that Shun-nii practically scraped his life savings just to get him to do the try-outs, or how his mom spent days phoning Hana for budgeting and expenses. 

Looking back, it was selfish of him to leave and live his dreams while the two person that he loved most was struggling to make ends meet. Although he had the nagging feeling that Shun-nii, and even his mother would absolutely support him no matter what.

But this whole thing was for them. Him making it in Esperion was because of them. It was a cruel cycle and Ashito felt conflicted even more because of it.

He might not fare better in high school football, there’s still so much he needs to learn in Esperion, and he will absolutely miss all the people he made friends with there. But he can tough it out with the knowledge he picked until now to be in Japan’s U-18. That’s what Kitano Ren did afterall, and he’s doing more than fine. 

He could see Occhan’s gears turning, deciding whether or not this scruffy kid in front of him was deserving of a youth team scholarship. Ashito could feel him eyeing his dying cleats, mind already making up Ashito’s financial situation even with no words exchanged. 

Ashito huffed. 

“How about this, I’ll participate in the try-outs, and you’ll decide by my performance there whether I’m worth your yens or not.”

Fukuda’s eyebrows raised at the bold statement, but eventually lets out a shark-worthy grin. Ashito would bet his all the money in his frog wallet that the demon-like coach was cackling inside. 

Then, as he watched the waves crashed, his second football journey began. 

Chapter Text

Three days.

It was three days ago that Occhan gave him an invitation to Esperion Youth’s try-outs.

Ashito spent those few days the same as last time…well, mostly. He spent most of his time building back the endurance he lost when he came back to the past. Three days aren’t much, but it’s enough to at least buy him a couple points at the physical tests.

His mother and older brother are the same as ever, his mom bullheadedness against football and Shun-nii’s unwavering support for it. (And if he spent those three days being a tad bit clingy towards both of his family members, regardless of his mother’s suspicious stares as if he’s gone off the rails since they found him at the beach, or his aniki’s worried but welcoming gesture at his behaviour, then it’s his business alone. He hadn’t realized how much he missed them last time ). 

But now he's finally back in Esperion. Well, one step towards it at least. The buildings, stadium, fields, and the abundance of football equipments are as menacing as ever. Ashito stopped for a couple seconds to drink the sight in, when his back suddenly collided with something ( bright orange? And is that a ladder? ) and came face to face with one Hana Ichijou. 

Ah, is this what deja vu felt like?

Unlike last time, Ashito had the mind to help Hana gather the equipments back into her arms, before Hana landed him a disrespectful stare, i’m-holier-than-thou stance, and pointed a finger towards his hair. 

“You’re the one from Ehime?” she said with a menacing tone. 

Still the same Hana Ashito knew. 

Ashito slowly removed Hana’s hand in front of his face and smiled, “Yeah, Ashito Aoi. You must be the old man’s younger sister.”

Hana furrowed her eyebrows at that.

“Old man…?”

Ashito nodded eagerly and answered firmly, “Fukuda-occhan.”

At that, the girls’ cheeks burned bright red. 

“He’s not an old man! He’s only thirty three!”

"That's what, two times your age? A bit more? He's basically ancient!"

“Well-uh, at least he looked good at his age!" Hana screeched as she followed Ashito towards the field where they held the try-outs, gaining some stares from some staff members and other players.

"So you admit he's old?"

"Tha-that's! Ugh! How did you know anyways?!”

Ashito suddenly swirled around to give Hana a big enough grin to reach his eyes, “You two looked alike.”

Ashito already went back on his tracks towards the field not seeing how Hana froze. Cheeks blazing red with a different reason than the first time, more so at the prospect of being called that she looked alike with who basically was (even untill now) her childhood hero.

She went back to her senses when one of the volunteers asked for her help at setting the field.

Jeez, Occhan is trying too hard to look both effortless and scary.

Ashito shifted his feet against the grass, almost yawning through Occhan’s speech (almost, he’s raised with manners, that and his mother is a force to be reckoned with). Ashito never knew what the purpose of the old man speech serves, other than terrifying fourteen to sixteen year old kids and breaking their hopes before they even started. Maybe something about psychological welfare? Ashito’s never been good with those mental stuff, his friend Otomo is far better at it.

Also, Ashito will NOT blurt out nonsensical stuff just for Occhan to give more speech. 

His running time ended up as normal as last time. Ashito huffed a frustrated breath. Of course the 3 days weren’t enough to cram a year’s worth of training, still, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

“Ah…This is crazy. I’m trembling like crazy. Aren't you nervous too?”

Ashito gazed at the person that suddenly appeared next to him. His face pale and sweat pouring like a faucet on his face and hands, but that is unmistakably the first friend he made in Esperion. 

Ashito tilted his head to look directly at his future teammate who’s trying to make a conversation with him. Is this…how Otomo spread his influence subtly? Ashito also only noticed by now that their bib had the same colour and the numbers weren’t that far apart. Oh wow, the guy is amazing. Ashito would always be amazed by how much Otomo could think several steps into the future with social skills on par with an empath. Ashito, who'd often had the subtlety of a bull in a china shop could never. 

“Wh-why are you smiling like that?!” Otomo pointed an index finger at him (oh wow people in Tokyo are so rude), nose flaring. 

Ashito just laughed and grinned, “I’m Ashito Aoi! Congrats, you’re the first person that tried to talk to me. What’s your name?”

“Otomo…Eisaku.”

“Otomo! I can tell that we’d be the best of friends!”

Ashito looped his arm around Otomo as the shorter boy struggled to get out of the headlock.

“O-oi! What the heck’s wrong with you! Also, what friend? You and I just met-”

“Attention everyone! It is now time for a 7 vs 7, you’ll be teaming up with the players with the same colored bibs.”

Ashito loosens his grip on Otomo and couldn’t help but feel the thrill that shivers down his spine.

Otomo could feel other middle schoolers' auras flare at Coach Tsukishima’s announcement, including the weirdo with the weird hairdo next to him and paled even more.

Really.

Youth teams are crazy.

Chapter Text

A seven versus seven mini game.

The most important part of the try-outs. Well, that and the unfair scrimmage with the official Esperion Youth’s members, but that’s neither here nor there.

For Ashito, a scrawny kid from the seaside with no background as an athlete whatsoever, technical plays were his lifeline. He didn’t have neither the bulk nor the tall figure like Togashi, or Kuribayashi, or Akutsu…or most of Esperion’s upperclassmen. But he’s got the drive!

And the smarts!

And that’s all that matters, right?

After all, what did Hana always tell him? That men are but a thinking reed?

He's the most thinking of reed that had ever thunked!

…

…Right. Who was he kidding, the physical differences was one of his biggest hurdles against foreign players with superior physics, but he had eventually overcome it in the future, or, will overcome it? Anyways, what he’s trying to say is that it’s not much of a problem anymore. Especially with the trust he has with his Esperion teammates.

Now the problem is that he’s decidedly not with his Esperion members. Sure, some of them will advance with him to Esperion and gain his trust, the same way he gained theirs, but right now, they’re not the teammates Ashito eat, sleep, and play with for the duration of a year. 

Anyways, why was he currently back in the forward position again…?

Shoot. He was so deep in thought that his temporary teammates were already finding their places in the field, which left only the front.

Why did they leave the forward spot towards him anyways? Did he say this time that he was a forward? He didn’t think so.

So why- oh.

“Why is the teams divided like this…? This is an exam man, this is so unfair.”

He had forgotten. Ashito turned his head towards his opponents. He didn’t remember any of their faces, but he remembered that they were strong. Stronger than his team. Best of the best of their own schools. 

So that’s why no one wants to be in front of this mess. They’d want to stand out, of course every single one of them do. But their instincts also told them to stay safe, picking the middle lanes or the wings where they could showcase their skills enough without being scrutinized on if they failed at scoring.

Well, if that’s the way they think…

Ashito smiled solemnly. 

Ah. 

We’re so doomed.  

Well, not as doomed as he had originally thought, but.

His team’s morale is practically at an all time low. Ashito really wants to boost his team's spirit, really he did. But he’s shit at words (evident from his past-future buttheading with Akutsu-san; or just the mere idea how people would say that his communication skill is basically on par with, god forbid, Kuribayashi-san of all people), they’d just ended up teaming together to beat him up if Ashito tried to cheer now. And that was the point, but not at his expense, of course.

And by god, did Ashito want to bang his head against a pole or something because for some stupid reason his pass couldn’t connect with anyone and he couldn’t figure out why .

He could see the other team was actually not fairing all that well either, it's just that his team was worse off. Wayyyyy worse.

Ashito tsked internally. They're letting their nerves get ahold of them. So what if the other team members were more skilled?

Yeah. At the end of the day, both his team and the opponents consists of middle schoolers. 

‘ It’s not as impossible as you guys think ,’ Ashito thought as he slammed his feet against the ball, scoring the first goal of the match with no assists. 

It’s restricting.

Ashito hates it.

He didn’t remember that being a forward could be so restricting.

He can’t do defense since he’s too far up and his field of vision was cut in half unless he wants to look like those bobbly head toys you put on your car dashboards.

He’d never thought he’d hate this position so much when just a couple months ago he was practically begging Occhan to put him as a forward.

One positive though, is that the enemy’s goal had never looked so close. 

That fact didn’t help one bit when the enemy scored their second goal against them. They haven’t had any more goals since the first one, and their team is in shambles. His lone goal at the start didn’t buy him any favours. It only caused the others to be more selfish and never giving him any pass even though he had no mark on him. 

It was like their way of saying, ‘You had your time to shine, right? So now's mine.’ Which didn’t help their score at all. 

Ashito could feel Kaneda’s sneer, other players heated gaze towards him, and Otomo’s gears practically going haywire on how to save their pathetic excuse of a team.

“Hey, Ehime guy! What are you doing?!”

Speaking of the devil. Ashito winced as Otomo approached him. Body language frustrated but not all that angry just yet,

“Shout to us when you want to do a pass! Or do a signal or, or something! We’re not mind readers you know!”

So yeah, their team’s being a hot mess right now might have been his fault too. Ashito may have overestimated his skills and his teammates just a tad bit. Just a tad. Abysmal really. He should’ve known that just because he has knowledge from the future doesn’t mean that things would just smoothly go his way. The world had never been kind to him in that way. 

He kept making passes for someone that isn’t there ( or wasn’t there yet, to be exact ), or putting his back to teammates that absolutely do not have his back, or even their own backs in that regard. 

“My name’s Aoi Ashito! Get it right! And I am sorry, truly, but I was trying to make a play here-”

“A play? I- no, we , can’t understand what these plays you were trying to make! Like, we didn’t even make any plans prior to this. We won’t understand it unless you tell. us. about it.”

And Otomo does raise good points, Ashito knows that. But ugh , he can’t help but also get frustrated. His teammates in Esperion could communicate with him just fine with just a couple glances or subtle hand signs. But it’s probably unfair of him to put too big of an expectation towards his middle school teammates. He should've known it's too much to expect not even middle school graduates who’d only just met just a few minutes ago to work like a well oiled machine that was Esperion youth. 

“And stop swirling your head around! What are you, a chicken?!”

Ashito had to held back a retort in his mouth, he’s mentally a couple years older anyways. He could be the mature one, for a change.

Fuck that.

“Maybe we all should've been a flock of chickens then, since at least a chicken would’ve noticed when a ball comin’ towards ya.” 

“... HUH?! ”

Ashito smiled to himself as he successfully agitated half of his team members. That’s right. Be angry. Be frustrated. Anything. Just don’t let the circumstances push you down just yet.

“Eh, that Ehime boy is no good.”

Nozomi raised one of his eyebrows at the comment, eyes catching his colleague’s pen scratching across the players’ bio.

“That goal he made in the first few minutes was good, but he hasn't done anything significant since then.”

“Fukuda must be out of his mind bringing that kid all the way here.”

“Maybe he spent too much time in the countryside? Haha.”

“And did he just riled his teammates up?”

“That kid, really…Dare I say that his performance worsens even, as the time goes?”

At that, Nozomi couldn't help but to shift his gaze from the game and asked, “What do you mean?”

The men beside him seemed a bit flustered at first for being the noticed by the famous B team coach with the resting-bitch-face, but gathered their bearings quickly, “It’s just that, he kept wandering about on the field with no qualms towards his positions as a forward, he kept making failed passes, and I don’t know why the hell does he kept spinning that curly head of his around!”

Nozomi hummed, eyes finding the said curly head back with no difficulty whatsoever despite his fellow coach’s rant. Because truthfully, in Nozomi’s eyes right now, that boy was one of the few players that are actually worth his salt in that field. 

“If that is what you genuinely think then maybe you still have a lot you need to learn, coach.”

Nozomi didn’t deign them any response after that despite them squawking about, not understanding what the man’s words meant. 

A failed pass, huh.

Nozomi almost scoffed at that. Almost , but he's too dignified to do that. It's not the kid's fault that the pass didn't connect. In youth, it’s 99% would’ve been the passer’s fault, because the whole point of a pass is to connect one player to another. 

But Nozomi had played league before. Was a starting player of the Esperion first string. The way the kid pass was reminiscent of the way an older Esperion player would pass to a newbie, eyes nowhere, the most subtle of gestures, what looks to be a wayward ball, and the non verbal command to keep the fuck up . 

True, he might be wrong in his assessment. It was insane to compare a 14-ish year old kid to a 38 year old veteran, but he’s rarely wrong at things like this. 

He could feel his eyebrows furrowed as the boy they were talking about suddenly pushed towards the back, way deep into the defensive area to receive a long ball. Only to place himself in the worst spot possible, trapping himself in the corner with two marks, leaving his team’s offense empty and his own defense in shambles.

“Hey, hey, what the hell is that kid doing?!”

“Even though he’s a forward…”

“How selfish can he be, really?”

“Stop hogging the ball!”

“That child really is no good, even though he’d come this far from Ehime…”

“Oi! This is a team sport! You can’t do everything on your own!”

“Hey curly! Pass it!”

Nozomi tried to ignore all the shouts and comments his other coaches, spectators, or even the players on the field were saying. Eyes keeping track of the one who’s still holding the ball against two other players. Just what is his plan…?

Nozomi grew anxious as the five-minute mark was announced and the kid was still defending the ball for dear life. Though from the corner of his eyes he could see Fukuda’s creepy smile plastered across his face even with this distance. Nozomi felt bad for whoever holds the expectations of that insane colleague of his.

Nozomi’s eyes widened as the red bib defense players went closer towards the ball in order to steal it. 

So that’s what his plan was. 

The Ehime boy shook off his two marks enough to run swiftly towards his own goal, inviting the panicked gasps and shocked exclaims of any onlookers. The green haired one ( Otomo, was it? Nozomi could faintly remember Tsukishima praising the kid ) looked to be the only one that realized what the other boy was doing, as he screamed for his other team members to run. 

Aoi ( that’s the name of the kid Tatsuya brought, Nozomi notes), kicked the ball straight and long to the front of the other team’s goal. And, coincidence or not, right in front of Kaneda’s feet, the other forward that responded fast enough to Otomo’s orders. Kaneda scored the goal perfectly with no marks on him, zero difficulty, and the majority of the opponents players on their side of the court.

Nozomi has never seen such a free player in a mini-game like this. His eyes went back to the other side of the field, scrutinizing the white team so-called-forward who was exclaiming hard and smiling bright towards his reluctant teammates, how “It was the greatest assist you’ve ever seen, wasn’t it?!”

Though it was far from the best assist Nozomi has seen (that title went to one infamous Esperion veteran alone), but he had to admit that it was a good assist. A great one. He couldn’t help but be curious on what Fukuda’s plans are for that kid.

Whatever it is, Nozomi hoped the kid’s sane enough to handle the Fukuda Tatsuya as his coach.

Chapter Text

As expected of Esperion Club.

The food has always been heavenly.

He would never take it for granted the obaa-sans that main the kitchens, he practically owe them his life (that was an exaggeration, but seriously, the food is to die for).

Ashito only paused his eating as the other recruits around him voiced out their concerns about the first try out results. Ashito grabbed his cleaned bowls and went for a second serving. It’s not that he doesn’t care about them, he’s just…never seen the point of complaining? The first exam’s over now, there’s nothing they could do about it, so why worry?

But maybe that’s just his opinion. He’s been told from time and time again that his way of thinking is outside the norm, so he’s been trying really hard to understand other people. Evident from his previous efforts to know his teammates better so he could plan plays suited to their personalities, and yes, it was for football, but hey! It’s the thoughts that count, right?

Plus they got closer after that so it’s a win in his book, he’d say. 

He held his bowl out only to come face-to-face with a scowling Ichijou Hana, and belatedly realized his mistake. Ah, this is the one where he’ll get nagged. 

“I can’t give you another serving.”

“C’monnn, cafeteria granny. Can’t you just give me one bowl of rice?”

“I’m not a granny! I’m your age too, mind you! And these are all for the next batch who gets to take the final exams-”

And on and on she goes about stomach capacity, greasy foods, and absorption abilities. Ashito had never been bothered with squeamish stuff, but he could see Otomo in the corner of his eye looking a bit nauseous at the rant. Ashito wondered how a person could be so ambitious about nutrients of all things, but that would be like pot calling the kettle black, cause he’s the same with football. 

“If we shouldn’t eat greasy foods then why did you prepare them for us?” Ashito grumbled. At that, Hana’s cheeks glowed red.

“Be grateful! Honestly. Plus, I have no say on what they’re serving. I’m just here to help.” Hana mumbled the last part to herself, lips pouting. 

“You know…,” Hana stared at him intensely and Ashito knows. Knew the exact phrase Hana would utter. Because he would hold those words close to his heart every time he steps into a football field. 

“You made a beautiful pass back then, and you scored a goal too. But honestly? I think those are just coincidences, isn’t it?” 

Ashito didn’t remember Hana being this condescending (though her laughter after he admitted to not using his head when he plays is a tad bit insulting, not gonna lie), but Ashito regards it as Hana being comfortable enough to joke and be blunt with him from the get go. Ashito wondered how differently his relationships with other people would form and how much his life would differ from the previous one just because of a different first meeting.

The thought for some reason sent a chill down his spine. Having an existential crisis in the middle of a 15-minute break smack dab in the cafeteria was not how he wanted this afternoon to go.

“And if it wasn’t?”

“...what?”

At the confused remark, Ashito quirked his lips smugly. “If I was thinking throughout all of it?”

“That would be amazing of me wouldn’t it?”

Ashito wouldn’t know what Hana was thinking when he gave her his response, but there must be something in his voice, or his mannerisms, that didn’t really align with the ego he was trying to convey, because her eyes softened and she barked out a laugh (not unsimilar to one hobo looking coach ).

“That would indeed be amazing! You might be the only middle schooler who could do it!”

She held his gaze firmly and struck out a hand towards him. “We got off on the wrong foot earlier, so let me introduce myself properly! My name’s Ichijou Hana. I’m coach Fukuda’s little sister, well, sister-in-law really, but that doesn’t matter!”

“A human is but a thinking reed. Do your best, Ashito Aoi, cause I’m rooting for you!”

“Goalkeeper, Fukatsu Yoichi.”

“Defender, Hiroshi Ueda.”

“Tooru Takeshi.”

“Nakano Jun’nosuke.”

“Midfielder, Hasegawa Youdai.”

“Suda Kenji.”

“Izumi Mamoru.”

“Otomo Eisaku.”

“Forward, Kaneda Akinori.”

“Tachibana Souichirou.”

“And lastly…,” Fukuda-Occhan flipped the papers in a snail-like pace, words trailing off as he read the last name that succeeded in placing a spot for the last exam. As much as Ashito knew that his name would be read next, he couldn’t help but feel the nerves that run through his veins. 

This old man, Ashito thought. Always with the theatrics.

“Forward, Aoi Ashito.”

Aah, there it is. He couldn’t hold down the big grin on his face once he heard his name, relief coursing through his body. Though, something Occhan said just proved one of his fears through out this entire try-out.

He totally forgot to fill in his position in the registration form didn’t he?!

Admittedly, it was his own fault for being distracted when filling in the paper, and he took too long on deciding whether to put himself as a fullback or forward that the whistle to start the exams had already been blown. Fukuda-Occhan himself must’ve put his position in by default based on that tournament Ashito played in a couple days ago. 

Ugh, that was careless of him. Hopefully one of the defenders that got in would be willing to change positions with him before they lost horribly against the youth team (because they undoubtedly will, lose horribly that is).

Preferably the fullback.

…Left wing.

That only left…

Ashito’s eyes scanned the faces and if his memories not wrong, the one with that position is the guy with the slicked-back hair, Tooru Takeshi was it?

Oh.

Today must be his lucky day, because Ashito could vaguely remember defending against him in a couple months playing as a forward in a highschool football team. He must’ve had a switch in his football career like Ashito after being rejected by Esperion.

Ashito’s mouth formed a devilish grin that made Otomo shivered. When the time comes, Ashito would take that position from him, whether he likes it or not. 

Plus this could count as Ashito helping him! 

He's just giving him a little push! 

By introducing the marvelous forward spot to another aspiring athlete. 

Ashito’s so nice isn’t he?

The guy should thank him, really. 

He’s practically doing charity work over here.

Ashito looked at the small orange payphones Esperion clubs provided, and promptly walked away.

Last time, he called his family on a whim, because his brain couldn’t comprehend that he’d gotten this far. That he could persist till the end of the try-outs and actually passed. 

He didn’t ask for any encouragements, or advice, or just plain ‘fighting! ’ words. 

Now that he had a second chance, deep down he knew that what he was waiting for was Shun-nii saying, ‘You did well, it’s okay if you failed the next exam .’

Because as much as Ashito’s looking forward to facing opponents more skilled than him, he’s also very familiar with the concept of losing. He originally played football for fun, had never even hoped of winning against opponents with skills way out of his league. He’d be happy just having to play with them on the court.

Shun-nii was a saint for paying the try-outs with his hard-earned money and easing their mother out about him pursuing football as a career whilst knowing that his little brother probably knows jackshit about the sport.

He wouldn’t want to bother him anymore than that.

(Or maybe he just didn’t want to be disappointed a second time when the phone call ended without hearing a peep of his mother’s voice).

“Hey guys, can we talk?”

Ah, deja vu.

Wasn’t it the same thing he said last time? Not the best first words to his temporary teammates, but what else could he say other than that? He’s honestly just taking a page out of Otomo’s book, whatever he wrote after that only god knows what the scribbles say.

“We’re eleven people, right? So, um, 11 vs 11, it’ll be us against other people won’t it? I think it would be beneficial to know how each other play, yeah? You're all in?”

God, why was he stuttering so much. He didn’t remember being this socially inept in the past. He should’ve been more adept after making friends in Esperion shouldn’t he? 

Also, is it just him or the air suddenly felt chilly around his neck?

Ashito watched as half of the team turned their back on him. He huffed. It’s expected. They did the same last time too, but it’s still frustrating every single time he remembers this exact moment. 

“You’ll regret it.”

At that, some of them stopped, though really, Ashito should’ve known better. Some people are just a lost cause. Though it didn't stop him from trying.

“We’re enemies. I’m not here to play house,” One of them said, eyes hard and disgust clear on his face, as if Ashito’s a weirdo for even suggesting such a thing. Ashito didn’t remember the name, but he remembered the midfielder who lost his composure first after Fukuda-occhan broke that godawful announcement. 

“Me. Please. Don’t leave me alone till the final exam starts. Let’s talk. Let's talk about love, let's talk about us, let's talk about life, let's talk about -”

Aaaaand, he’s losing it. Typical Otomo. Ashito’s ought to give him blood supplements sometime with how rapidly his friend’s face was paling.

“Right. Let’s talk. I’m curious about you.”

Ashito could practically feel his heart going do-ki do-ki after hearing Tachibana. The shoujo-manga-like line never fails at making him blush, Ashito swears. How his friend could keep a straight face each time he utter cringe-worthy words Ashito never knows. 

“Can I join?”

“I’m the goalkeeper, let me in too.”

Nakano (oh wow how Ashito missed him) and the goalkeeper said at the same time, both making a circle with Tachibana and Otomo around him.

BAM!

The sound of a large hand hitting the small of his back surprised him more than the slap itself. A small smile formed on his face seeing Kaneda plopping right next to him. Face young and baby fat still visible, as opposed to a year and a couple months from now where he’ll hit his growth spurt and a body that could rival the best physics of Ashito’s upperclassmen in Esperion. 

It only left 6 people, just like last time.

Three forwards, one midfielder, one defender, and a goalkeeper.

It sounds like the start of a bad joke.

That’s okay. Ashito’s used with disadvantages. This is nothing new. 

“Alrighttttt, let’s do an ice breaker first shall we-”

“Don’t start with nonsense please!”

Darn. And that was one of Ashito’s best ideas too. At least it wasn’t a game like he suggested last time. Otomo sighed heavily.

“I’ll start first…”

“I like to do passes like ‘pow’  y’know.”

“Ehhhh, y’all are pretty selfish…”

“Should I buy you a mirror?! Also how do you even understand what he's saying?”

“Eh? Isn’t it obvious? He says he likes the ‘pow’ ones, not the ‘pa-bam ’ or the ‘-ssak’ ones.”

Otomo stared at Ashito incredulously and Ashito stares right back. What he said makes sense right? Of course Nakano liked those ‘pow’  pass, it’s a pretty straight and obvious line pass. It makes perfect sense.

“I really want to be accepted here…This is my last chance at chasing pro.”

“Yeah me too.”

“Same here.”

“We’re basically only on the basement level right now, not even the first floor.”

“Practically bottom of the barrel.”

“If we failed at this, we’ll just play regular football for three years then quit, right?”

“Yeah, I can’t accept that.”

“I absolutely have to pass.”

Okay. How the hell did the mood drop this fast. Ashito couldn’t keep up. Weren’t they just introducing himself and telling each other how each of them play a couple minutes ago? Ashito hadn’t even gotten a turn!

Just as Tachibana ends his life story, the familiar sound of a whistle echoed through the field, signaling for all the recruits to gather.

For the love of-

“Those type of things…,” Ashito muttered, position still in seiza even when the rest of his teammates were already brushing grass off their pants. 

“Don’t discredit all your hard work like that!!”

Scenes flashing in his mind. How every single one of them, in their own time, in their prime environment, with the appropriate guidance, will flourish, becoming one of the best opponents Ashito had ever had the pleasure to play against. 

“Don’t just say stuff in the heat of things!”

Because Ashito knew, for a fact, that those are just unfounded fears they speak of. What if, what if, what ifs. Ashito’s had enough of it. He knew they won’t quit pursuing football. They themselves knew they won't quit football. They’d think, ‘I’ve come this far, I can’t quit now ’. They’ll try, and try, and try again. Because that's just who they are.

Liars. Every single one of them. Ashito couldn’t, and probably would never relate easily with his peers, so he couldn’t help but feel a bit pissed at their way of thinking. 

“Bottom of the barrel this, basement level that. That’s just insulting to me when this is the highest level I’ve ever played football at!”

They’re all staring at him. Eyes wide and mouth slacked. 

Good. Let them hear. 

“There’s a proverb where I’m from, ‘Above the sky there’s still another sky’. But people forgets that there’s always ground beneath the first ones- I’m rambling. My point is , you’re deluding and underestimating yourself, you’d be amazing in the future, trust me, I’m practically a seer, I can see your football career from the water of your faces, so believe in yourselves, every game is an opportunity to polish your skills, no matter who the opponents will be .” He ran out of breath in the end, the sentences blurring into one from how fast his mouth is talking, and the words he spouted didn’t even make one coherent conclusion in his head. What the fuck was that about the seer thing? I sound like a lunatic.

Ashito didn't dare to look away from the grass, head bowed and hands clenching from embarrassment. God, smite me now, he’s really bad at giving pep talk.

“Aoi.”

The tender voice uttering his name startled him, and he raised his head with confusion as he saw the other looking his way, expression unreadable.

“We get it.”

“We’re sorry for making you feel that way.”

“Sorry, Aoi-kun.”

“Thank you for telling us.”

Really , Ashito thought as they helped him stood, he’s really glad he’s got the second chance to do this.

Chapter Text

“These are your final exam opponents,”

“Let me introduce to you…”

“Tokyo City Esperion’s Youth Team.”

What. 

a.

Drama.

Queen. 

Ashito ought to sign the old man to a high school theatre club, he’d reckon the old man would be great at musical drama. The tension, the pause, the reveal! At least, that’s what Ashito thought was happening inside his coach’s head as he stared deadpanned at the man. And by the satisfied look on the older’s ugly mug, Ashito suspicions probably weren’t too far off the mark. 

“THANK YOU FOR HAVING US!”

The greeting echoes through the field, and the first time Ashito heard it, he couldn’t listen to it properly with how loud his own chest was reverberating. Either from excitement, or fear, or a mixture of both. But knowing himself…

It was probably excitement.

It may sound crazy, but he remembered the one thought that flitted through his head, ‘When else would I have the chance to fight strong opponents? ’ 

He’s got a second chance now, and he must say…

The excitement still stays the second time around, as a grin etched its way onto his face.

The parents on the side of the field roared with concern, their kids noticeably higher voices whined their protests. It was a whole mess. One of the more outspoken exam-taker tried to argue, but was quickly shut down by Coach Fukuda himself, voice calm and with a smile on his face, a portrayal of the devil himself.

That was, before a clear laughter ringed through the air.

What sort of madman-?

Heads swirled towards the source of the sound, finding the boy from the countryside doubled over, hands clutching his stomach and tears in his eyes from laughing too hard. Some people looked in confusion, while others, mostly the Esperion Youth members, watched him with dismay. 

Once done, the boy clapped his hands hard, catching the attention of the other recruits who was spiralling at the concept of facing against high-ranking opponents.

“We’d probably have a hard time, huh,” He said, with a smile that made his eyes twinkle. Otomo spluttered, “Y-you, oi! Aoi! You can’t just say that-”

“But we’ll win.”

Otomo’s words stopped in its tracks. He didn't know why, but there’s something in his new friend’s smile and the nonchalant manner he's portraying that just compels Otomo to listen to him, to believe in this weird kid he just met, what, two hours ago? Which is crazy talk because Otomo’s always thought of himself as a logical person, he swears. But he also learned to listen to his guts more often than not. Right now, his guts wants to hurl, but it’s also telling him to trust whatever Ashito throws at him.

“Aoi’s right,” the ever dependable Tachibana started, “We’re only a grade below them afterall. If we face them with a winning mentality, we might just-”

Tachibana's rambling got interrupted by the same laugh they'd just hear a couple minutes ago. Otomo's starting to suspect there's actually some screws loose in his new friend's head or he really should choose who to befriends carefully next time around. Someone who's preferably not the second coming of Joker from the Batman series.

Ashito flicked of his tears from laughing, “Yeah, winning mentality. Keep that thought in your mind.”

“And don’t you guys let go of that thought even once when we’re facing against them.” His eyes that were glazing over glinted something dangerous, and Otomo unceremoniously felt a shiver down his spine.

It was careless, the way Ashito said it. As easy as saying how, ‘the sky is blue’, and ‘the birds are chirping’, and ‘we’ll win ’. But it sounds like a warning to Otomo’s ears. He gulped and threw a last glance at Esperion’s team. Really. His current and future teammates were all scary as hell. 

He's starting to regret ever filling that registration form.

“Aoi, do you mind playing on the right side?”

Actually, yes. Ashito did mind a lot, thank you very much. It was practically the farthest place he could possibly be from his original spot. He jutted his bottom lips when he saw the backs started making defense plans. It should’ve been him over there goddamnit. His past self would kill for this position but he would genuinely call coach Nozomi ‘dad’ if it meant that he could be a fullback-

“OI!” 

Ashito jolted at the shout. Eyes finding themselves over to a frowny Kaneda. Ashito swore he hadn’t done anything to piss off the other forward yet , if his memory serves him right. And Kaneda was such a quiet kid when they first met, a complete 180 from when they met again after Ashito successfully joined Esperion, so why-

“Listen to me when I’m talkin’, idiot,” He growled, and Ashito nodded nervously.

“Yer taking the right side,” Kaneda said as he walked over to his designated spot. Ashito huffed out a breath of relief. Guess Kaneda has always had anger issues from the start. Ashito didn’t know how the guy could hid it so well the first time they met. But that’s a-okay because Ashito’s a frickin master at dealing with people with anger issues. Spesifically his mom, and a certain upperclassman. Kaneda’s a guppie compared to those sharks.

Speaking of sharks ahem Ashito could see the aforementioned future upperclassman walking towards him from the corner of his eye. Ashito inwardly groaned. What did he do this time? Ashito didn’t think he’d actually done something this time to warrant the older man to corner him like this. Again. 

“Hey, what’s with those boots?” 

The same conversation as last time. Though Ashito’s really curious on Akutsu's weird fixation with his boots. Something involving his past maybe? Are football boots a sore spot for him? Did he get knocked on the head with one? What is going on? Ashito really regretted not pushing his future mentor about his past that one time. Sure, that would be impolite of him but think of the ammunition he could get on facing a difficult guy such as Akutsu. Plus, Akutsu-san might’ve tolerated him enough to teach him football, but Ashito’s also a hundred percent sure that the older still hates his guts. Ashito genuinely wanted to make at least a good first impression this time around.

“This…well…” Ashito stared at his dirty boots, taking note of the scratches and scrapes on it. He didn’t even remember how long he'd have those shoes. His mother gave it to him when he first started playing football, a hand-me-down from his brother and three sizes too big. ‘Hopefully you’d grow bored of the sport well before you’d need a new one,’ she said. Jokes on her, because now Ashito’s pursuing football permanently and she couldn’t be prouder. Well. In the future. She’s still a bit hesitant as of now, but she’ll come around. Eventually. With his brother's help (thank god for Aoi Shun. Ashito couldn't have lived without him).

“My momma gave it to me,” Ashito smiled to himself, fingers trailing over the design on his boots.

“So that I’d have something to do other than bothering her, she said,” Ashito laughed. His mom would hate that joke. ‘Made me sound like a terrible mother,’ she'd complain. She's not, by the way. A horrible mother, that is. She just had a hard time expressing her affections. It's a good thing neither Ashito nor his brother were high maintenance children, for his mother's sake. His older brother would often call her a tsundere to tease her everytime Ashito and her had a fight. 

Ashito's smile dimmed, though, when he saw the expression on Akutsu’s face.

What-

It wasn’t the fake smile Akutsu gave him last time. What in the world was that-

This is new.

Ashito had never seen Akutsu make that sort of face. For some reason it made Ashito's heart ached a little. 

The younger tilted his head a little bit, trying to gauge what the hell he’d just seen when Akutsu put his mask back up and offered Ashito a handshake.

“I’m Akutsu. Tokyo City Esperion’s Youth Team first year. Let’s do our best today.” It was the same. The exact same line. But there’s a hint of tremor in Akutsu’s voice that Ashito just couldn’t figure out. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m from Ehime. Name’s Aoi Ashito.” Ashito grabbed the others’ hand dumbfoundedly as Akutsu gave him a smile that’s a little bit more genuine than he’d remembered. Or maybe that was just Ashito’s head playing tricks on him. As much as Ashito desperately wanting that they’d have a better relationship this time around, Ashito's trying to keep his hopes low. In the future, Akutsu-san and him have never had a conversation without some insults (from Akutsu) or arguments (from Ashito) or both from both sides. Ashito had already given up at this point.

Maybe they're both a lost cause.

The mistake they’d made last time was not immediately attacking when Esperion was still calibrating, so Ashito tried his best on correcting that mistake. 

There were gaps in their offense, gaps in their defense, everywhere Ashito could see was opportunities to pass the ball to the optimal spot to attack. Esperion Youth were intimidating, of course, even now. But they’re only a year or so older than him, some are even the same age, and most importantly, they’re also learning. This is the first time they’ve likely ever switched positions, another disadvantage towards his own team Fukuda-occhan allowed to add insult to injury for Ashito’s teammates, that bastard. The old man drew so much joy from their misery Ashito suspected he's secretly a reincarnation of Lucifer. That, or he's just a plain old sadist.

So yeah, Esperion’s still adapting, so this is the perfect time to put some goals in and display their teamwork before they get used to their new positions. The problem was, of course, the only position that didn’t get switched.

"BANG!”

The goalie.

Ashito huffed out a sigh as the ball touched the tips of the goalie’s gloves and swerved towards the goal post. He unconsciously pouted his lips and glared at Esperion’s resident goalkeeper, Akiyama Enshin. That’s just not fair. Ashito also wanted to play in his original position. 

Akiyama-san, noticing Ashito’s eyes on him, gave out a friendly grin and a thumbs up, as if saying ‘nice try, newbie’. Ashito held back a snort at the friendly gesture and threw back a small wave. The guy practically adopted Ashito and the other first years in all ways but blood by the end of the tournaments. ‘The more the merrier,’ he'd joke. Ashito sort of missed him. 

A quick glance told him that the Esperion members were still arguing and regrouping every chance they had. That's good. That means they hadn't gotten a hang of things yet. Ashito's team still got some time to make a score. 

“Tachibana! Don’t hesitate!” He shouted when he realized the other boy's contemplative stance, deciding whether or not there was a trap because the infamous Tokyo City Esperion Youth should not be this easy. His yell earned some glares from the other Esperion members though. He gave them a cheeky grin as the ball rolled back towards Esperion’s side easily, Otomo dribbling past before passing it to Tachibana, who tried and failed to score as the ball bounced high from the goalie’s hands to the top of their heads. 

Ashito could bet it all with a fifty-fifty chance of scoring, by pulling an arguably dangerous stunt that involves potentially cracking his head open on the ground by almost cartwheeling, but he’d learned to be more patient by now to think his options through. The problem though, was one, he’s short, so if he waits for the ball to drop enough he would totally lose against all his upperclassmen. And two, he's not tall enough. Right. Cartwheeling it is.

He jumped and hooked the ball underneath his feet, head trying its very best not to just give up and let gravity take its course. The old him probably would’ve just force a shot in, even knowing that the goalie’s still very much in prime position to counter it, like he’d done so in the past. This time though, Ashito let his eyes wander for even a sliver of other chances in the milliseconds he’s in the air. And there he sees it. 

Left wing. 

The ball leapt onto Kaneda sloppily (Ashito really needs to polish his technique because that was just plain embarrassing at this point). The boy’s expression clearly showing that he wasn’t expecting to get the ball. He’s also a couple meters away from where Ashito would've liked him to be, but he received the ball cleanly enough to slam it back towards the side of the goal, thankfully before Akiyama-san had enough time to get up and interfere. 

Kaneda roared in victory as Ashito let out a sigh. He didn’t know why, but he felt a bit irritated that they'd actually succeeded in scoring a goal this early in the game. Probably because they would be his teammates in the future. And he absolutely hates seeing his teammates losing, even against himself. 

He stared distastefully at the temporary defense line. Eyes taking a double take at seeing Yuuma so far back. This whole flipping positions idea thing Occhan’s pushing really felt like a fever dream. And all of this just for crushing fourteen to fifteen year olds confidence, no less. The old man has no excuse whatsoever for beefing with teenagers. Ashito’s mom would pull the coach’s ears like a big sister would if she was here. 

Ashito stuck a tounge out at Yuuma as the others crowded him and Kaneda for a short victory hug, which Yuuma responded with blowing a raspberry of his own playfully. Ashito laughed quietly at his friends’ antics. He flinched a bit when he heard shouting coming from the side of the fields.

“The hell are ya doing?!”

“Come on, take this seriously!”

“What a fucking let down, really.”

“That’s all you’ve got?!” 

“Ya’ll are nothing without Kuribayashi!”

“Even my five year old could play better than you!”

Oh wow. Ashito didn’t remember the crowd being this ruthless. Plus, they’re children for god’s sakes, they should mind their mouths. Even some coaches frowned upon hearing it, Nozomi-san especially. That’s probably Ashito’s fault though, he realized guiltily. They hadn't managed to score a goal last time at least, but now that Esperion had technically lost a point, the jeerings are even more scathing. 

If Akutsu-san was in the defense line he wouldn’t even let Ashito stay in front of the goal that freely, much less let a ball even an inch within the goalkeeper’s bounds. Ashito might be a little shit sometimes towards the older boy, but he truly respects Akutsu’s expertise in guarding the goal as though his life depends on it.  

Though the problem of course is not only in their defense. Esperion couldn’t complete their passes perfectly, which meant the ball couldn’t even make its way towards the forwards. It’s a whole freaking train wreck with a fender bender on the side.

“It’s as you said, Tachibana.” Ashito broke out of his reverie at Kaneda’s voice. The other forward slotting himself between him and Tachibana, a satisfied grin on his face. 

“We’re playing against their starters here, not the subs. That means that they’re not messing around and are actually taking us seriously as a J-Youth team. We’re that much of an opponent for them not to pull their punches.” He sounded giddy, eyes sparkling not unlike a child. Ashito almost felt bad for what would happen next. Almost. He’s still holding a small grudge from their fight last time.

“I’m getting pumped,” Kaneda’s smile bloomed into a full blown grin. “Right, Aoi?” He bumped Ashito’s side playfully, waiting for an agreement from the shorter boy. 

Ashito frowned at that, not minding the other boy's words and focusing on the other team instead. Forehead scrunching and eyes searching the other team for their damned secret hand signal -aaand there it is. 

“Can we do it?” Akutsu-san smiled as he showed his palms up. All of his teammates answered him with the exact same response, expressions serious and hands raised. Seeing the sight, Ashito could feel a shiver down his spine and jitters on the bottom of his feet. 

He bounced once to get rid of the anxiety before racing back towards his team’s side of the field, earning him confused looks from both teams. 

“Aoi! What the hell are you doing?!” his midfielder asked as the guy ran past him, staring incredulously at Ashito as if the curly haired boy had magically grown a second head. Ashito knows, he knows they’re on the offense right now. So him, a forward, retreating when they have a chance to strike was not making any fucking sense. But Akutsu always taught him not to half-ass his offense nor his defense, and for now the best thing he could do is to head back and stay on guard for when the ball inevitably came.

They could never go past Akutsu-san even as a midfielder (that’s practically cheating, by the way. Occhan should’ve made Akutsu a forward at the very least to give Ashito’s team even a sprinkle of chance on scoring) with the way they are now, no teamwork and still with their every-man-for-himself way of thinking. Also, with that being Esperion’s specialty, there’s no way Ashito’s team could ever hope to stop Esperion in its tracks with the loose formation they’re in. 

When his team, as expected, got thwarted by Akutsu, Ashito scanned his surroundings to the most likely place the ball would be sent to. He cupped his hands around his mouth, hoping to god his voice was loud enough his teammates upfront could hear it too.

“HEAD BACK!”

The members of his teams recoiled at his shout, body freezing from shock instead of obeying their teammate’s sudden command, feet still hesitating and not believing their eyes as the ball got passed from person to person with high accuracy and exceeding ease, leaving them all in the dust with their mouths hanging open. They didn't even have the time to collect their bearings before the ball got sent on to the other side of the court. 

Ashito grumbled internally about stupid teammates with no trust in him whatsoever, before slamming his feet against the ball, making a tackle to…shit. To Kiriki Yoichi, an upperclassman he knew would never let this sleight Ashito just did to him down. The ball rolled its way out of bounds, and Ashito’s sort of hoping he could walk away as easily as the ball did, because the glare Kiriki-san was sending him was basically a promise that Ashito wouldn’t be alive by the end of this. 

“-did you do that?”

“Huh?” Ashito tilted his head at the hand that’s held up in front of him. He accepted the hand and got himself upright, brushing the dirt and grass away from his shorts while still staring at the older dumbfoundedly. “How did you know where the ball was coming?” Kiriki-san repeated, clearly Ashito’s slowness at making a response was irking him, but he’s holding himself back. Unsuccessfully, might Ashito add. He could practically see the veins popping on the side of the redhead’s forehead. 

“Because I have eyes?”

Kiriki-san stared deadpanned at him as Ashito grinned, satisfied at his stupid answer. Ashito's shit at lying, okay? He had to do what he gotta do to keep this whole time-travel thingamajig a secret. Eventually though, the former huffed out a breathy chuckle, earning a confused stare or two from the other players, plus some shocked ones from Esperion because wow that kid just made Kiriki laugh is hell freezing over- . The upperclassman pinched Ashito’s cheek lightly, eyes lighting with mirth and fascination.

“Cheeky,” Kiriki said, before going to the side of the field to deliver a kick.

Ashito rubbed his cheek absentmindedly, before picking up his bearings and swirled around, eyes catching his other teammates. They’re all staring at him, faces at a loss on what to do next after seeing Esperion Youth’s real capabilities. Ashito scoffed at the thought. Esperion still weren't taking them seriously, even now.

They're standing still as if they’re waiting for him to give them another command, and oh. This is way out of his paycheck to play technically give the other recruits guidance while simultaneously act as a coach, but those are basically the same thing as being a playmaker, so it can't be that hard, right? Besides, who was he to say no for having the chance to order his teammates around? At least now Ashito finally feels that he’s on familiar grounds.

He clapped his hands loudly twice to grab their attention before shouting, “Retreat! Prepare for defense!”

It was too perfect. 

The way the kid responded.

His eyebrows knitted when the forward was going deep into his side of the field, way too close to the area where the defense line started. He didn’t even bat an eye at the sudden tactic change, legs running without a doubt in its steps towards his team’s side to help the defense, as if he knows that if, no, when his teammates attack failed Esperion would bite back with ten times more vigour than before. He could see the other coaches frowning at the decision. What, did he just gave up?  Decide by himself that it wasn't worth attacking with what Esperion’s about to do? Well, he was right, of course. Fukuda's plan was to crush the kids from the get-go, but the boy shouldn't have known that. 

Fukuda wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't just the kid's instinct flaring at him that there's danger, guard the goal now or something else that he was missing. He wouldn't go as far as saying that the move was calculated though, so it's most likely that Aoi’s body was moving faster than his brain could think of the situation. Or was he just really perceptive? The kid didn't seem like the type to use his head frequently in games, though, no offense to him. A pity, it would've been such a deadly combination if Aoi could utilize his thinking in games sometime in the future. For now, Fukuda's pretty satisfied with the way the kid he found was playing.

Aoi had cut Kiriki off as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. Kiriki, one of his arguably most aggressive players (only second place by the-one-and-only Akutsu Nagisa himself ). The first year would be holding that grudge for days if given the chance. Plus, intercepting the ‘one-touch passes’ Esperion’s famously known for is a feat in and of itself. 

Even now, the boy from the seaside he mindlessly picked off from was doing a more than fantastic job at predicting the target passes, making his boys falter slightly on working their way through Aoi. Fukuda smirked lightly. That's good. A little challenge here and there won't hurt. It would even help his team grow and learn how to face sharp-eyed opponents such as Aoi.

The curly haired boy’s efforts were admirable, but those of course weren't enough to deter Esperion’s plays. Proven by the goals they're making as of now (geez, Akutsu was ruthless). His team were passing here and there, black and white ball zig-zagging through flustered players as they fluttered around, panic clear on their faces. Fukuda tsked. That won't do. They've still got a long way to even dream of beating Esperion.

Fukuda laughed maniacally as Esperion successfully struck out two goals right before the whistle for the end of the first-half shrilled.

Chapter Text

Good news? He didn’t give himself a nosebleed this time.

Bad news? Well, everything else…?

Ashito took a deep breath as all of the players were preparing to get off the field. The ‘selected’ team were walking to the sides, some with vengeance in their eyes while others with their heads hung low. Ashito was about to join them when he was stopped in his tracks.

“Those shoes. You’re so poor you can’t afford to buy new ones?”

“Didn’t you come from somewhere far away?”

“The ones who gave you money to come here, you don’t pity them?”

Ashito bit his lips at the jabs. Bait. It’s bait. He kept trying to remind himself not to rise to them but oh how he hates this phase Akutsu's going through right now. Ashito never understands what sort of beef Akutsu-san has for him but the one thing Ashito knew for sure was that the guy had always hated Ashito since day one. Ashito has never even had a chance. Is it the way he looks? His voice? His personality? Ashito never knows the reason even months of acquaintance-ship in the future.

Akutsu-san grabbed his shoulder roughly. Ashito saw Fukuda-occhan frowning at them from a distance, trying to stay nonchalant but Ashito could see that the coach was tense.

“How pitiful. You, and everyone else around you.”

“You’re nothing more than a useless garbage, whether in your hometown or here in Esperion’s fields.”

“You’re only dragging them down. You’ll drag us down with you.”

And the thing is, Ashito can’t even hate the man himself for saying all of these. Because Akutsu was right . Ashito could never hate him for saying the truth , can’t he? He was dragging his family down in the past without even realizing it. He was an inconvenience at best to his new teammates in Esperion Youth because he’s a total newbie and had to learn all the basics from zero compared to the others. He didn’t even know the most simple formation, let alone advanced techniques or tactics.

“You think you’re a hotshot? An inspiring story of a nobody from dumbfuck nowhere trying to make his way to the top?”

The older boy leaned into Ashito’s ear, “Wake. The fuck. Up.”

“Do us all a favour and get lost,” He whispered, before giving one last warning look to Ashito before walking away. 

Ashito let out a shuddering breath as he saw him go. 

Akutsu-san never changed.

Ashito didn’t know why but that thought somehow comforted him more than it should've.

“Why didn’t they do that from the start?!” Tachibana made a motion as if he was about to throw his water bottle, but thought better of it before putting it down gently next to his bag. 

“They’re making fun of us,” Kaneda growled. Tachibana nodded in agreement, “They’re putting on an ‘act’. This is just one big hell of a ‘show’ for the crowds.”

“I’m certain we can get a chance to get back on them if we-”

“They were really fucking good though,” Otomo suddenly chirped in, earning a glare from both forwards.  

Kaneda turned his attention towards the other members of their team. “Oi! The rest of you! Aren’t we gonna plan things out?!” The aforementioned recruits paid no heed at his shouts, scoffing and turning their faces away. The action made Kaneda’s blood boil. 

Otomo, the godsend, did damage control before it even happened. Body language relaxed as he approached and eyes smiling as he subtly threatened them. Luckily, there might still be some brain cells left in their heads because they finally acquiesced and sat circled on the grass. 

“Alright. What’s our tactics?” Suda, one of their midfielders asked. 

“Wait. We’re missing someone real important here,” Otomo stopped him in his tracks, hand held out. Tachibana, Kaneda, Nakano, and Fukatsu nodded at him in unison.

“Aoi!”

Ashito choked on his water at the shout. He had opted to slinker towards his bag quietly as his teammates oriented themselves. Feeling a bit out of place since he hasn’t even had the chance to regroup in the past timeline before the second half started because he was getting treated by Hana from a ball to the face.

He hurried over at the wave of Otomo’s hands, sitting himself between him and Kaneda. Ashito sat idly on his legs, hands playing the grass blades.

“...So?”

Ashito stared wide eyed at his teammates when silence greeted him. Why was no one saying anything? 

“Aoi. What…what should we do?” It was Nakano who tentatively asked the question. Ashito tilted his head and pointed a finger towards his chest. He guffawed, jaw hanging open before mouthing a ‘you’re asking me???’ because the prospect of anyone turning to him of all people for instructions is just plain ridiculous. That was, before he realized that the others were also looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for his input. 

“We may not like you at first, but you looked like you knew what you were doing back there on the field,” Takeshi, his position stealer, chimed in. 

“You’re the only one of us who were ready for their passes, dude,” Ueda, a big guy that looked like Hasegawa’s twin added.

Izumi the one with the shining blonde hair beamed at him, “Exactly. When you nyooomed passed me I was like what the fuck is that guy thinking? but then I was like, oh, this guy's good.” His midfield partner Suda nodded his head eagerly in affirmation. 

“You saved my ass back there, man,” their goalkeeper punched Aoi’s shoulder jokingly.

They all turned towards the only one who’s still keeping his mouth shut. Eyes glaring daggers and letting their hands speak in a gesture that says, ‘Well? Aren’t you going to say something?’ Eventually, Hasegawa cleared his throat nervously before huffing out a, “Not bad,” cheeks blazing red in embarrassment. 

‘Oh the old me would’ve let this go to his head,’ Ashito grinned internally.  

But honestly though?

For all that Ashito’s been anticipating this specific moment in the try-outs, he hasn't really thought much of a plan on how to face Esperion’s one-touch-passes. The best thing to do as a weaker team would of course be to use the N-box formation like the Aomori Seiran High School did. Plus, it had proven to be effective in the past against an opponent like Esperion. There’s just one teeny tiny problem.

The problem is that their team was absolutely not Aomori Seiran’s football team.

There’s no way. With the way they are now, there’s no chance they could pull off something only a school like Aomori Seiran can do. Firstly, they had zero experience in that formation. Secondly, they lacked the drive Aomori Seiran had. Third, and the most important one is that he had none of his teammates’ trust and vice versa. It's not that he doesn’t want to have faith in them, it’s just that he would need more than a couple of minutes playing with them to achieve anything close to resembling the conviction Aomori Seiran had. So that idea had to be scrapped from the get go, as much as how fun it sounds. Having the chance to play god sound tempting but right now wasn't the time. Them attempting an N-box would only end in a disaster.

Hmmm what to do, what to do…?

It left only that, huh.

“What if we can’t win this however bad you guys want it, though?”

An uproar sounded at his comment. Ashito hummed. Not the best opening line, he must admit. He really needs to learn how to handle people from Otomo. Also, he’s not wrong. He wasn’t saying that they wouldn’t be able to score a single point, he’s just pointing out that they would need to work hella hard if they really want to win against Esperion Youth. They couldn’t even score more than one goal last time. And sure, he had an upperhand, knowing about the future and all that, but knowledge doesn't actually mean shit in a play where there was so much stuff to account for and hundreds of outside variables that could make things snowball out of your hands fast . 

He’s only one guy. And even if he tells the others what he knows he would bet all his money that it won’t change a single thing. It’s like this, let's say that you’ve memorised a cheatsheet of some game, but only one path, path A for example. You won’t know what would happen if you picked a different thing or if it would lead you to path B, C, or even G. You won’t know if path B is better than path A, or if path D would benefit you the most because you only knew path A. But path A is basically useless at this point so It’s back to flying in blind for you.

Ashito held out his hands placatingly, trying to calm the guys down, “Hear me out, hear me out.” The other guys quietened at that, although begrudgingly.

“We’d need more than just talkin’ tactics if you all are serious about winning, but we could at least stop them from scoring,” Ashito said, trying to make himself seem confident. Well in theory, they could. Technically. But he of all people knows that theory and reality could be like two sides of the same coin. 

“How?” Tachibana asked with steel in his voice. Hearing that, it must be terribly incriminating as a forward. Ashito could empathize. Being told that their team just simply doesn’t have what it takes to score goals enough to win would really dampen someone’s spirits, especially someone whose main job on the field was to make goals. 

“Defense, duh.” Tachibana rolled his eyes while Ashito blew a raspberry at him. Otomo immediately mediated both of them, “Yeah, but how? Do you even have any tactics, Aoi? Some sort of formation or something?” 

Ashito shrugged, “I don’t know man, what’s the standard defensive formation again?”

They all stared incredulously at him. Ashito laughed nervously. Have they regretted asking him for answers now? This might be a new record. 

Takeshi shook his head before adding in his two cents, “You wanna add the backs? We’ve only got three people there.”

Their GK nodded, “I would really appreciate the extra protection.”

“We’re gonna pull down someone from midfield?” Suda asked anxiously. It wouldn’t really mean much in the grand scheme of things, formation changes were nothing new, like forward to midfield or midfield to back and vice versa. But in a try-outs like this, changing positions however minor could mean a huge disadvantage. More so for their individual assessments rather than the result of their match. They could win, and they’d survive, but there’s no guarantee that it’d be enough to pass the exam. No one would want to have nothing less than the best spot to show off their own skills in order to be accepted by Esperion. 

Wait. Why does it have to be a midfielder who moved?

Oh. 

Ashito must have been a goddamn saint in his last life.

He was planning on kicking (ahem, persuading) Takeshi from his spot in the left wing, but with this new development he could just-

“I’ll fall back!”

Ashito raised his hand excitedly. “It’s the perfect solution, right? We could do two forwards, and the mid could stay in their positions. It’d be great if we could have 5 backs but I understand if the midfielders would want to keep their spots. It’d be too much of an overkill anyways, plus, one miscommunication and we'd fall apart as easily as a stack of dominoes. So that’s, what, a 4-4-2 formation? That’s perfect! Maybe a 4-4-1-1 would be much better though-” Ashito rambled on, not realizing the horrified looks his teammates were sending him.

“Aoi. Aoi, please for the love of all things holy, shut up for a sec,” Kaneda cut in, hand massaging his temples in disbelief. 

“You do realize you’re a forward right?”

He stared at Ashito. Ashito stared right back.

“Yeah?”

Kaneda threw his hands up at that. “Okay yeah, just making sure you knew, and not oh I don’t know, ouT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND?!”

Ashito flinched at the booming voice, Otomo and Tachibana tried to hold back the taller boy from approaching Ashito, the Esperion Youth members were poking their heads curiously at the commotion, while the coaches stood tersely by their bench, worried glances thrown their way but making no move whatsoever unless fists started flying.

Hasegawa, surprisingly, volunteered to be the one to ask Ashito, seeing as two of their voices of reason were busy with their team's second problem child. “Aoi, have you ever even played in defense once in your life?” He was saying it slowly, as if he was talking to a child.

“I was a fullback, y’know,” Ashito grumbled. His ears were still ringing from the shout earlier.

“You-...You WHAT?!”

“You were??”

“Why didn’t you say anything, you idiot?”

“What the actual fuck.”

“Why were you playing as a forward then?”

Ashito winced at the exclaims. Being in this team proved to be really bad for his ears, Ashito duly noted. Ashito rubbed the back of his neck gingerly, “I forgot to fill in that part of the forms so Occhan must’ve filled it in based on my last play he’d seen…? My school was having a shortage of strikers so…yeah…” Ashito finished lamely. 

Which is, not a lie. But not the truth either. His school did have a shortage of players, but not strikers. What kid wouldn't want to be the one to score goals anyways? Where he was from, every kid and their fathers who played football always wanted to be strikers. No questions asked. The one who says that they didn’t want to were liars and should not be trusted.

Also let it be said that Ashito Aoi had never been great at making excuses in his life. That award had to be given to both his mom and older brother. Ashito could still remember Aoi Noriko frantically bullshitting to a 5-year-old him about the lemonade she was drinking but somehow Ashito wasn’t allowed to (it was alcohol ) and a teenage Aoi Shun trying to explain to middle school Ashito just why he couldn't come to wherever Shun-nii was going (he was going to an emo band concert ). On second thought, maybe his whole family was shit at lying. 

Ashito could see his teammates having a whole conversation with their eyes on whether to trust him or not. There’s nothing Ashito could do as of now except waiting for their verdict. The ball is in their court.

“Okay.”

Ashito broke out of his reverie. Brain taking precious time to process the context of the information as he stared at them dumbly.

Ueda sighed, “Okay, you’ll be our fourth.”

Ashito’s eyes sparkled before his whole face lights up. He jumped on whoever unlucky sods nearest to him. Which were poor Kaneda and Tachibana. His arms looped tightly around both of them in a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys won’t regret this!”

“I’ve regretted it already,” Kaneda grumbled as he pushed Ashito off of him. Tachibana steadied him when he stumbled from the shove and hugged him again, all the while patting Ashito’s back a couple of times. He released Ashito with a, “Don’t let us down, Aoi.” before sending him a sweet smile. His friend must’ve eaten romance mangas for breakfast because how can a guy be this suave and still not have a girlfriend? Even Ashito could feel the butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh one more thing,” Ashito said, making the others peered at him curiously. “I’m not sure why but I have a feeling the tanuki-like coach is still hiding something in that big hair of his. Something…malicious.” Ashito wiggled his fingers artfully, all mysterious-like,  trying to convey the aura of those fake-street-psychics. He’s running out of ideas on how to send them a warning of what would happen in the second-half without spilling the time-travel-thing, okay? Sue him.

The guys exchanged glances with each other before laughing, obviously not taking him seriously. Others, like Kaneda and Otomo, were looking at him as if he was crazy.

Nakano tried to keep his giggle down, but ultimately failed, wiping tears off of the corners of his eyes. “Is he secretly the nine-tailed fox, Aoi-kun?”

”I just want y'all to be prepared. He’s real sneaky that one,” Ashito pouted.

“What, you’re close to our famous coach, the Fukuda Tatsuya, Aoi?” Otomo teased, elbows nudging Ashito’s side painfully.

Ashito shoved his friend playfully. “Nope. Only knew ‘im like three days ago. He just seems like the typa guy.”

“What did he ever do to you, you make it sounds like he killed your beloved pet fish or something.”

“Well, he almost conned me into thinking that he was scouting me. Turns out I still need to do and pay the try-outs for it,” Ashito grumbled while Otomo gaped at him.

“Just be careful, alright?” He warned the team one last time, huffing when they all waved off his concerns. 

Whatever. 

They better not come crying to him when that devil of a man breaks that godforsaken news.

Chapter Text

Fukuda scratched his chin thoughtfully. 

‘My, my, this year's exam-takers sure are a lively bunch.’

The 33-year-old hummed an old folk song cheerily. You could practically hear the shouts of football-playing-middleschool-children as the background vocals. 

“You’re in a good mood today,” Nozomi, his lifelong coaching partner accused, appearing to his right whilst eyeing him warily. Fukuda put on his best shocked I can’t believe you’d doubt me that way and innocent I’ve never done anything nefarious in my life expression a man could ever see.

“What the hell is all that commotion?” His colleague grumbled as he scanned the 13 to 14 year-olds who looked as if they were seconds away from a scuffle. Fukuda chuckled when the kid he casually plucked from the seaside jumped at two of his teammates, earning him both a tight squeeze and a disgruntled shove. Just a few minutes ago they were ready to jump at each other's throats. Now look at them now.

Roughhousing. 

Not the development Fukuda was expecting, but it’s not not what he’s hoping either.

‘Though,-’

Fukuda tilted his head, not unlike a mangy dog.

They’re acting awfully chummy after all that brawling. They sure are in high spirits.

Plus, are those glimpses of light and hope on their young faces he’s seeing?-

Oh how Fukuda can’t wait to crush their dreams and the glimmers in their eyes.

“Your twisted personality is showing on your face,” Nozomi said, nonchalant. Fukuda sputtered at the remark. 

“Pff- wh- What's wrong with my face?”

“...That’s the part that you're focusing on? Not the personality thing?”

Fukuda waved his hand, “Pssh, nah, I already knew that. Not important. Now, back to my looks. Was my grin too wide? Is it the wrinkles? Please tell me it’s not the wrinkles- no offense by the way. You? You’re rocking it. But me? I just don’t think I could pull off wrinkles as good as you-”

Nozomi let out a long suffering sigh.

“You. Are. Insufferable,” The other man groaned, pinching the base of his nose in disbelief.

“Insufferably handsome?” Fukuda gave him a shit-eating grin as Nozomi stared  deadpanned at him. Eventually, the younger broke eye contact first, retreating to help Fukuda’s sister with water on the other side of the post while mumbling something about how Shiba-san owes me so much for this- and what not.

Fukuda waited and let his smile stay before dropping it in an instant once Nozomi left the scene, focusing back on the recruits team who were discussing their plans for the second half. 

He scoffed internally at their serious expressions. The former football player genuinely applaud them for trying, but sadly, whatever they're planning to do in the second half would be futile. He made sure of it himself when he’s pouring over the exam schematics for this year. He spent hours building and reimagining every possible scenarios. Every leeways shut, every faults erased, every imperfections eliminated, till all the roads could only lead to the one conclusion he’d set. His flawless master plan.

It was always the same with these kids. He knew their personalities like the back of his hands. Egos as big as their dreams and confidence too large for their plates. Eyes always looking up without once noticing that the ground was way closer than anybody could ever realize. 

He’d know.

(He was the same as them once, afterall).

Well.

Maybe there's one exception. 

That curly haired boy from Ehime.

Fukuda didn’t know what compelled him to seek out the child as he did. He was only there to visit his hometown. Though he’d be lying if he wasn’t secretly hoping for a godsend of a player to just drop in front of him, evident by the papers he’d always carry in the trunk of his motorcycle, just in case. 

Aoi was nothing worth noticing at first, except for his ability to attract the ball to wherever he wills it to. If Fukuda had to score him, the kid was average at best. Good, for a country player, but barely anything compared to the city kids Esperion had seen and rejected. 

He trusted his instincts though, cornering the child on to the secluded seaside road (he’d just now realized how creepy it sounds) and finding out that the kid was more than he seemed. So much more. Fukuda somehow basically stumbled across a diamond in the rough, even when he's supposedly taking a break.

But that’s exactly it. The boy was still a diamond in the rough. A dirty, cloudy, and unsanded diamond, but a diamond nonetheless. Fukuda had some rough plans on how to handle him later, once the boy got in Esperion Youth (not if, because Fukuda knew that the boy would absolutely get in), but the youth in front of him doesn’t seem like the one he’d watched by the stands in that one game back in Ehime. 

Still a diamond, still rough around the edges, but he seemed a bit less… unpolished, somehow. Like he just skipped a couple steps in the span of three days, or a lifetime had passed unbeknownst to him and everyone else. 

But that’s just silly isn’t it?

All those sleepless nights planning for exams and plays, not to mention the future of his dream team must be finally getting in his head. 

Maybe the kid was just that good and Fukuda’s just noticing it now. And what would that say to his superb intellect then? He has always been acknowledged for finding new talents. He's getting sloppy. Maybe this is what those old people meant when they say that your thirties will hit you hard (Ugh, was he old now?).

Fukuda sighed when the whistle finally blew, rescuing himself from his thoughts. He sat himself on the bench, Nozomi coming over to take his place right next to him. 

The old thing was really starting to bother him. Maybe what he really needs is a drink or two one of these days. The stress couldn't be healthy for him.

He took a mischievous glance at Nozomi who was concentrating on his clipboard. Perhaps he could drag his cute underclassmen to that new bar across the street and-

Hm?

What is he looking at?

His fellow coach’s mouth was open wide, fingers accidently dropping the cap of a pen he was holding. Fukuda could see Tsukishima on Nozomi’s behind with the same exact expression, eyes wide. 

‘They really should close their jaws before any flies flew into their mouths’, Fukuda thought to himself, snickering, before following Nozomi’s line of sight towards the opposing side of the field, where-

Where- huh? 

Why are there only two forwards? 

Fukuda furrowed his eyebrows. What, was the kid injured? Was he stepping out from the game? No, there’s no way. This is a chance of a lifetime. It’d be too much of a shame to give up for any kind of injury. Especially since the kid looked to be the epitome of health just a couple seconds ago, so where-

Maybe he's changing his position according to their new formation? Yeah, that's probably it. (Though the thought felt somewhat ridiculous. Aoi seemed like the type of kid who'd kick and scream if he was assigned any less than a striker).

So, the center-

He’s not one of the midfielders. 

He’s not one of the midfielders. Which was the logical second thought, so that only left-

There. Right at the back. Furthest away from where Fukuda was standing, furthest away from the original spot he played in the first half. 

Ha. 

He's in defense.

Fukuda couldn't help it. He let out some unceremonious bursts of laughter, perhaps even a loud guffaw, something bubbly tickling his stomach, a giddy feeling. He’s half sure he would’ve gained some weird looks from the other coaches or even some of his Youth members if they weren’t also gawking at their youngest recruit. 

That crazy mother fucker . 

The kid was smiling broadly. With the most satisfied look you could ever see plastered on his face (As he should be! Fukuda honestly didn’t know whether to be proud or rip his hair out). As if he didn’t just throw Fukuda’s whole plan upside down. As if he didn’t just flip several people's perspectives on the way he plays and how to play against him. As if changing his position that drastically was just a minor change to him. 

Fuck. Fukuda grinned helplessly at Nozomi. The other sent an exasperated look back. There goes the surprise.

Nozomi was looking at him as if saying, 'Can't you scout a normal kid for once?', and that made Fukuda howl even more.

Fukuda felt the rest of the laughter rumble and let it die out low in his chest. He combed out his long greasy hair (he really should get a haircut sometime near) before clasping both of his hands right in front of his nose and mouth, though his eyes were still fixed on the magical-son-of-a-gun child Fukuda brought to Tokyo, brain already analyzing the change this switch would inevitably make and what it would mean for his team and this game’s outcome.

It shouldn’t matter much. Theoretically, realistically, it wouldn’t matter much. The players didn’t change, the numbers stayed, and football is still a team sport. One person's position shouldn’t make any significant change, but it did. God help him, it just did. It’s only one person. One kid. But Fukuda, who’d coached someone like Kuribayashi Haruhisa knew exactly how just one kid could change the entire flow of the game. 

And isn’t that an insane thought? Comparing this nobody kid he’d just found not three days ago, who last Fukuda seen played like he had two left feet, who probably never had proper coaching once in his life, be compared to the indisputable genius that was Kuribayashi Haruhisa? The star player of Japanese football's new generation?

Fukuda must be losing his mind. 

He must be losing his fucking mind, because he still can’t believe the conclusion he’d formed in his head. Because if it’s true, if the kid thought all of this on his own, then Fukuda might’ve gotten himself another football genius.

‘Or a freaking madman,’ the voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Nozomi whispered, but he waved that thought away. Fukuda always liked teaching madlads. 

As a forward, Aoi was nothing remarkable, just another run-of-the-mill player who'd play highschool football for perhaps three or so years before retiring quietly without a medal to his name. Originally, Fukuda was thinking of changing the boy’s position into central midfielder, like how the best playmakers in the world were. His impressive field of vision would help him loads to become the perfect playmaker the world has ever seen. The only problem was the boy's huge affinity in anything related to scoring goals (shattering a kid's dream of becoming a forward is an easy fix).

Still, Fukuda was undecided whether it was the right decision or not. It was too heavy of a load for a kid who’d just played actual football to carry, who'd only knew how to play as a forward since the beginning. Play it wrong even a little and the boy would crumble beneath all that weight right under his coaches’ nose, and Fukuda, the headstrong coach that he is, would be far too blind to see it. 

(He knew how genius football players are. The way they think. They would eagerly accept to take it all on without complaints, their egos not letting them ask for any breaks or help, taking any burdens without once thinking of the repercussions in their thirst for victory. 

And they would eventually be crushed underneath those burdens.  

Never again.)

So no, Fukuda might be a cruel coach (something Nozomi liked to occasionally remind him), but he’s a damn good coach. And a good coach should know each of their players' limits.

But this, though? This was a stroke of genius. This just erased every worry Fukuda had regarding the boy’s future (well, every is a hyperbole, but Fukuda had always been hyperbolic of a person. He aims big afterall ). Aoi changed his placement to the most prime position he could ever think of. The optimal spot for those amazing eyes of his to use. The exact place that Fukuda would’ve chosen if he were to ease Aoi from a forward into being a playmaker without overloading him with information from all sides. 

It was brilliant. He can’t believe he didn’t think of it himself. 

Of course, the other team could still very well lose, but that's not the main concern. To Aoi right now, winning or losing didn't matter. His real aim was just to even the odds. If he could be the perfect defense that their team needs, Esperion Youth would have a harder time getting through them. 

Oh, Fukuda loved the way he thinks.

Though truth to be told, Fukuda’s sort of disappointed that his big reveal in the next couple of minutes wouldn’t be as shocking as he hoped it would be. But no matter, this was a nice enough surprise that Fukuda could even consider forgiving the kid for ruining his dramatic announcement later (consider, because Fukuda had and always been petty, ask Nozomi).

Now, Fukuda could only hope that the boy wouldn’t let him down. 

How he couldn’t wait for the second-half to start.

Chapter Text

Ashito took a deep breath as he took in his surrounding and thought, 

‘Man, 

‘The old me would’ve beaten my ass for giving up forward like that.’

Though he can’t say he’d ever regret it. For the first time since he regressed, Ashito finally feels at home. 

Look at all those plots of land! At every person he could take account to! Really, this view is the best and Ashito would never trade it for nothing. 

Unlike before, Kaneda, as one of the forwards, was the one who’d gone head to head with Akutsu instead of Ashito. Ashito could only wince as the other boy went careening to the side at Akutsu’s check. Was Akutsu-san always that strong or was he taking it easy on Ashito because of Ashito’s small stature? 

…

Naah, if anything, Akutsu-san would probably slam him harder. Ashito knows that the older wouldn’t do something such as ‘pity’ him. He should’ve gotten a round of applause for at least managing to stop himself from eating dirt last time. 

Ashito’s still a bit jealous of their physique though, not gonna lie. Just a bit.

Ashito eyed Yuuma as he easily broke through the recruits’ team’s forward, jumping past Otomo. Leaving the shorter boy sprawled on the ground gaping.

‘Aaaah, did it start here?’ Ashito thought detachedly. The start of his team’s downfall (such exaggeration, he knew, Occhan’s theatrics must be rubbing off on him. Ashito shuddered at that.) 

He couldn’t actually do anything in this situation except to cheer Otomo up telepathically, ‘We can do it! Come on, don’t give up, Otomo!’.

It must be working, because Ashito could see his friend’s whole body quiver before snapping his neck towards Ashito’s direction. Ashito sent Otomo what he believed was an encouraging smile. Though he’s not sure he succeeded, judging by Otomo’s befuddled face. 

Right, back to the game.

Yuuma continues on with the ball. Izumi trying and failing miserably to intercept him. Kaneda falling back. Akutsu-san approaching-

Ah, wait.

Kaneda’s falling back???

Ashito hurriedly stepped forward just as Kaneda yanked Yuuma’s shirt back, earning one of the referee’s notice. 

‘Kaneda, no-'

“Pass it back, Yuuma!” Akutsu-san shouted. He was closing in fast, with no marks on him because unlike last time, there wasn’t an Aoi who'd have enough sense to follow Akutsu back. 

They’d block it, Ashito knew. Their goalkeeper would somehow pull a miracle and save them from what could be their third devastating goal. But what if those are just pure luck? As much as luck is on his side from beginning to the end, meeting Fukuda-occhan, getting into Esperion Youth, going to Qatar, getting a second chance via freaking 90s movie sci-fi bullshit, Ashito absolutely abhorred relying only on something as flimsy as luck. And if Esperion actually scored one here, when they could not before? 

Ashito would never forgive himself. 

He forced his legs to pump harder, skidding past Yuuma and Kaneda just as the ball left Yuuma’s feet. 

He won’t make it. Ashito knows he won’t make it to intercept Akutsu’s pass under his feet, his position was even farther now than he was before. So what he could do was-

“Thud-”

- block its trajectory midair. 

Thankfully, Ashito covered enough distance to not use his head instead of his chest, but it still hurts. On god, it hurts. Ashito truly didn’t miss the sweet sweet sensation of kissing a ball with your chest. He had to waste his energy jumping as high as he could, and Akutsu held no mercy on that kick, but it’s all worth it when he saw the ball going past the boundary line.

“Good one, Aoi! N-nicely stopped!” Otomo stuttered out loudly. Ashito appreciates him for being supportive, but all he could manage to do right now was raise a weak thumbs-up as he heaves.

On second thought, maybe stopping a ball that was intended to go high and far to the opposite flank with his whole chest wasn’t his best idea. He’s guaranteed to have a lot of bruises after this. 

Akutsu-san lined up beside him as the others were preparing for the corner kick. Ashito peered his eyes to the side as he waited for a jab, an insult, or, well, anything, really. 

But a couple seconds passed by and Akutsu-san stayed rooted to his spot, staring at Ashito with assessing eyes, as if he was gauging Ashito out. The younger one, of course, held the stare dutifully, head tilting a bit in confusion.

Odd.

“Before the start of the second half… You were making quite a fuss among yourself, weren’t you?”

There’s something different.

“What the hell’s up with that?”

There’s no heat in it, Ashito swore that he couldn’t detect a single malice in his voice. 

“Aren’t dogs supposed to be fighting over the same bone here? Acting friendly and all that…it makes me want to vomit.”

Word per word. It was the exact same dialogue that came out of Akutsu’s mouth as in the past, minus the whole conversation about the first half because Ashito didn’t ask this time. But Ashito couldn’t help feeling there’s something distinctly wrong in the way Akutsu-san talks. 

Instead, the other boy’s expression betrays nothing except for a hint of, Ashito dare say, calculation in his eyes. As if Ashito was someone worth worrying. He was going to rejoice at the thought, but he held himself back. 

This whole time travel thing must be messing with his head. He’s turning delusional. There’s no frickin’ way that someone like him would be in Akutsu’s radar. No, those spots are reserved for players like Kiriki-san, Trepone, Kitano Ren, or even Kuribayashi-san.

Sure, Ashito hoped knew someday that he could become a teammate that’s worthy to play with those guys. Maybe even be as great a player as Fukuda-occhan was! But he knew that day was long to come and the Aoi Ashito right now, even with the added advantage from his time traveling endeavours, still wasn’t someone comparable to the likes of Akutsu.

But, the whole dogs and bone euphemism Akutsu-san was spewing? Now, Ashito knew better than to believe that Akutsu was someone overly individualistic with a shitty attitude. 

(The upperclassman was one of the few people who got affected the most by Taira-senpai’s leaving, Ashito knew. Akutsu-san channeled all his anger towards him afterall. Not that Ashito could blame him).

“We’ll all be teammates sometime in the future though, won’t we?”

You could practically see the veins appearing on his jaw.

Akutsu scoffed, “You think we’d help each other up through the power of friendship? This isn’t kindergarten, kid. You’re better off-”

“Oh! You watched My Little Pony too? It’s been awhile since I had cable and I can’t exactly watch it in the bar my mother works at cause the patrons usually only watch the news channels and Japanese football and those are boooring. So, who's your favorite pony? Mine’s Rainbow Dash.” 

Ashito delightfully watched as Akutsu opened and closed his mouth confusedly, no words formed. The older one was clearly overwhelmed by the sudden change of topic, because what the fuck??? What the heck is this kid on??

Ashito gave the bewildered highschooler one last smile before walking towards his teammates, humming gleefully.

He clapped his hands twice to capture his teammates attention before shouting out, “All right! Put those frowns upside down, guys! They got a corner, so what? Get to defense! This was all in our plan wasn’t it?!”

They all looked at him with wide eyes and terrified faces, faces paling by the second.

Aah, this won’t do.

“We’ll make the best defense line they've ever seen. I’ll even mark that scary ass guy for you!” Ashito jabbed a thumb in Akutsu's direction, there was no reaction from the older, but why could Ashito feel some sort of heat from his back? 

Meeh, it must be all in his head, he’ll ignore it for now.  

“But in order to do that, you guys should at least move your feet!” Bare-fucking-minimum right there, but Ashito didn’t know what else to say. Even expecting them to stay focused was a tall order. They’re all scared right now, Ashito knew.

But even trying was good enough for Ashito.

As expected, Otomo came to his rescue. Sometimes Ashito wonders if one of his parents were a psychiatrist or that he was just really good with pep-talks. “Yeah, that’s right! We already knew those Youth guys were good, didn’t we? It was a surprise to us when they seemed so weak wasn’t it?!”

“Plus, we’re a team built in, what- less than an hour? Forty-five minutes max? Of course we’re gonna mess up every now and then! That’s normal!”

One by one, the others quickly exclaimed their encouragements, much to the dismay of the people in Esperion Youth. Ashito snickered at hearing Otomo’s mumbling, “They’re the ones who’s not normal.” And Ashito couldn’t help but agree at the sentiment.  

Asari took the corner kick, and Ashito nervously eyed the ball that was sailing fast towards him. Now, all he had to do was not bonk his head against one of the people in Esperion Youth with the toughest skull and he should be good to go, but how?? He should jump to interject it from reaching other Youth players, which would lead to a kick so close to their goal.

But he would 100% smash his head against Akutsu again if he jumped. One time was enough, thank you very much. For all that this time travel thing is helping him making better decisions on the field, it really didn’t help his brain capacity to think of other ways because Ashito was panicking and time was running out so the only thing he could do was listen to his instinct and jump-

“CRASH-”

…just like last time. He’d forgotten that this Akutsu-san had always had it out for him, even when he was doing nothing wrong. Even when Ashito thinks that they were making progress with the conversations they had. True, Akutsu didn’t change much from what he last remembered, but the way he talked to Ashito weren’t as downright hostile as Ashito remembered. 

Or maybe Ashito’s too hopeful. He really should keep himself in check.

The collision didn’t hurt.

It shouldn’t hurt this much, at least. 

His head didn’t hurt last time from bumping against Akutsu’s. Probably a bad goose egg here and there on his forehead and he’d be up and running in no time. What really winded him up was Akutsu’s wrist digging into his chest when they collapsed. The initial contact was nothing compared to that.

But this time it felt like someone just grabbed a sledgehammer and swung it on his head. Or shook his whole body so hard his brain rattled in his skull. The added weight from Akutsu when they finally hit the ground didn’t help at all. His breath left him and he could feel himself wheezing, trying to put air back into his lungs.

He could barely hear Akutsu’s and the referees' shoutings, couldn’t even make his eyes focus on the expression on Akutsu’s face like last time because his head is pounding and he’s busy trying to breathe.

His vision flickered, like one of those grainy tv screens his family had in their living room. 

Suddenly, he realized he’s not on the field anymore. Instead of green grass and blue sky, he saw dirty roads and grey buildings, glaring neon lights and the distinct smell of cigarettes combined with sickeningly sweet perfume. He saw a rundown apartment and spray-painted walls, a small room with no heater, cracked walls, and trash on every corner your eyes can see. The smell of garbage and rot permeates around the room.

This all felt like a dream. Was he seeing the future? Time travel wasn’t enough, now he had clairvoyance too? He couldn’t help but feel like the entity that gave him all these powers must think him incompetent or something to give him all these boosts. 

Though, if this is his future, it must’ve been really depressing. Did he do something wrong in this timeline? Or was this his past timeline? Is this even his future? But if not his then who’s-?

There’s a small child, Ashito noticed just now, hidden in heaps of blankets on one of the cleanest corner of the room. Even calling it ‘clean’ was generous. The child had unruly dark hair, his entire body shivering as he sniffled into the blanket. Ashito was half sure the child couldn’t see him, but one moment the kid looked straight into his eyes and the scenery changed abruptly.

Snippets of someone’s life rolled out in front of him. Their childhood, the friends they made, their parents...well, parent. And a shitty excuse of one at that. Ashito could feel his anger swell when the boy’s mother hand him a soccer ball, all the while saying to her only child to ‘-go play and never come back.’, leaving the child with mountains of trash, no electricity, and a lone ball clenched tightly in his little hands.

Ashito could never know the struggle single mothers like his mom and this woman went through. But he knew damn well his own mother would never say something of the sorts to any of her children.  Even when the bar’s not doing too well and their economy was struggling. Even when Shun-nii had his rebellious teen phase. Even when Ashito frustrates her at times. 

A good mother would never.

But Ashito could do nothing except watch, so watch he did. 

Ashito saw the small kid grew up, saw him bleach his hair out, saw him hanging out with the 'wrong' sorts, saw him helping them steal some cigarettes and knick-knacks, and in return they offered him company. Friends to play the ball with. Surrounded by the smell of spray paint and cigarette smoke and oddly enough, laughter. 

Because at the core of it all they’re just kids, finding refuge in a single ball on a world surrounded by harsh concrete. The oldest one there was probably his Shun-nii’s age, cigarette in one hand, but he had an arm wrapped securely around a small child with bruises littering their face. The youngest, other than the little one and the kid Ashito’s been watching, was probably a girl with a cap on. She was petite from malnutrition, but she brandished the baseball bat in her hands as if it was a weapon, eyes glaring darkly as a man with short dark hair approached their group. 

The man called the attention of the one Ashito’s been watching of, halting him from dribbling his ball. Ashito and the girl bristled all the same, feeling oddly protective after seeing the child’s whole life played out in front of him. Ashito took a few steps forward as to look at the face of the newcomer properly, balking when he saw that it was none other than the Fukuda Tatsuya we all know and love.

Ashito’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of them, mind reeling. 

Was Occhan here to recruit the kid?

Then, the kid must be a member of Esperion Youth, right?

Ashito once again took a good look at the snarling kid in front of him. Was there a kid with such a grumpy face anywhere on his team? Ashito honestly couldn’t think of one. Though, the way the brows furrow does remind him of someone. And the way the corner of his lips downturned to make a perfect frowny face. Or the glint in his eyes as he stared distastefully at someone-

Oh my gosh.

How could Ashito not realize this sooner?

Of course, It’s all so clear.

The kid looked exactly like Akutsu.

Which meant…

…

This must be Akutsu’s son!

Ashito must be a genius. Though, if he’s really Akutsu’s son, why does Occhan look so young? He’s even younger than he was in the present time, if Ashito had to guess. What, is he a vampire?

Wait, no, focus, Ashito, think rationally. Well, as rational as you can when you’re experiencing an out of body sci-fi experience. 

If Occhan was younger, that meant that Ashito was currently in the past, so the kid must’ve been…Akutsu?

Ashito really didn't know how to feel about it. On one hand, isn't this basically an invasion of privacy? Though Ashito really didn't have much say on this seeing as he's here by some higher being's will. But on the other hand this is an opportunity to know Akutsu-san further.

'Sorry Akutsu-san,' Ashito apologized internally. But if a higher being saw it necessary for Ashito to see Akutsu's past, then whatever they are must've deem this moment to be important. Ashito still felt guilty though.

The scene flits by with Fukuda-occhan and Akutsu-san on the doorstep of his house, the older one offering a file of Esperion Youth tryout papers, confirming Ashito’s assumptions. The scenery changed again and he’s now in some sort of restaurant, Fukuda in one chair and  an unfamiliar lady in the other. 

Ashito watched as Fukuda-occhan explained the intricacies of Youth’s scholarship, the accommodations and its advantages. Watched as the woman took a deep breath of a cigarette and blew it absentmindedly, body language clearly disinterested in whatever Fukuda had to say. 

“Is he really that good? At kicking balls?” Legs crossed, red lips tugging.

A laugh, condescending, “I didn’t know.”

“Anyway, that’s good,” A heavy sigh, shoulders relaxing.

“That means you’ll take custody of him, right?”

Ashito saw red. 

He moved forward in an attempt to grab the lady’s collar. Because how dare she?

How could she?

But Ashito’s hands grabbed at nothing as the woman and his surroundings vanished, his vision becoming blurry as he suddenly fell.

And fell.

And fell.

And the blank space winked at him before he opened his eyes to blue sky and white clouds and chirping birds and soft grass and suddenly he could breathe—-again.

Back to the land of the living for him, I guess. Time to play football.

Chapter Text

It was scary.

One second those two were in the air, and the next both sprawled on the ground, with only one of them getting up.

And it’s not the one wearing the same bib as him. 

Otomo winced as the Esperion Youth’s member put all his weight on Aoi, feeling his own ribs hurt from the motion. But it’ll be fine, it’s just a minor collision, surely Aoi would recover in a jiff, right?

Right?

But Otomo watched as Aoi curled up in a fetal position, his whole face scrunching up in pain. His eyes flutter shut for a few seconds, before they widen up in a panic, hands desperately clutching the front of his shirt. Otomo hates that he’s such an observant person, because he saw the moment Aoi’s breath stuttered, right before the boy started to dry-heave erratically, face turning pale from the lack of air. 

Otomo saw the tall Youth member’s smug face quickly turn sour. Saw him hurriedly turn Aoi into a better position for his airways to open while Otomo stood there idly, lost on what to do. 

“Paramedic! Now!” The Youth member that was having a one-sided-beefing with Aoi barked out. Otomo flinched at the voice. But it successfully grabbed the attention of alarmed coaches, and thankfully, the paramedics, so Otomo really didn’t mind it much. Not when his new friend teammate was still struggling to do something as easy as breathing right in front of him.

“Hey, are you okay?!” 

‘Of fucking course not’, Otomo wisely kept his mouth shut at that. Because what sort of pointless-ass question was that? The kid was literally turning blue! The referee was even more useless than him, he swore. 

Though all the concern seemed to be all for naught in the end. Because just as the paramedic was about to do whatever the hell it is paramedics do, Aoi straightened up with a string of coughs, his face regaining its previous color. His chest still heaves heavily, but at least it was finally filled with air. 

Otomo let out a relieved sigh, though the same couldn’t be said for the paramedic. The man looked perplexed, frantically asking Aoi some medical-based questions that’s far too quick for Otomo to understand. And by the look Aoi was giving the man, it was far too quick for Aoi too. 

“-an you breathe easily now? No obstructions? Does your chest hurt- or anywhere on your body perhaps?” 

Otomo quietly chuckled when the other boy only responded with a question mark basically plastered on his face. His eyes wandered through his body, as if taking notes, before shrugging and answering, “...No? Nothing hurts. Why?”

As if the paramedic’s the crazy one for asking such questions. As if he wasn't just struggling to breathe a couple minutes ago. As if he didn’t make almost the whole court worried about him. Heck, Otomo could see the long haired coach Otomo still didn't know the name of rising from his seat, intending to make sure everything was all right. He was being held off by Coach Fukuda before he could, however. Probably in order not to overcrowd Aoi and let the medical professionals do their job. A mature decision, though Otomo wasn’t sure he’d have the sense to stay seated if it was one of the kids he’s technically supposed to be responsible for for the time being. Especially, if Aoi’s words were true, a potential scholarship student Fukuda sought out himself.

Though maybe that’s just him.

Otomo took the next moment to squat next to Aoi, grabbing his attention from whatever the paramedic and referee was saying. On whether or not the boy could continue the game, probably. Otomo didn’t really mind it, Aoi looked like the picture perfect health to him, and if the boy insisted on continuing to play then Otomo doubted anyone on the field could convince him out of it.

Well, except for Coach Fukuda maybe.

“Aoi,” he called, and Aoi gave him a grin with a faux innocent “Yes, my dear friend Otomo?” 

His fist reflexly thumped Aoi’s forehead heartlessly, earning an ‘Ow!’ from Aoi and shocked looks from both the paramedic and the referee.

Oh yeah. Technically a patient. Otomo forgots.

“Don’t do that again, idiot. I think my heart just went up to my throat for a second there.” Aoi just laughed at him, which is great that he’s feeling okay enough to laugh, but how dare he do it to Otomo’s face. He was genuinely worried!

“Can’t lose my new friend when I just met him today. Besides, we were supposed to crush this tryout together weren’t we?” 

Fucking embarrassing. Otomo could feel the heat rising on his cheek. He wasn’t the type to say stuff like that, okay? That’s the sort of stuff that Tachibana guy would’ve said, not someone like Otomo. Otomo really had the sudden urge to just jump off a building right there and then.

Though, the twinkling eyes and the bright smile his new friend shot him was more than worth it.

Otomo’s never saying shit like that ever again though.

Fukuda stared intensely as Aoi flailed about, unabashedly asking his ‘future upperclassman’ Akutsu to help him up. Exclaiming loudly as he bonked his head again against the other’s head, much to the older boy’s chagrin. The action successfully elicited a couple of laughs from his teammates, brightening the mood once more. 

“Whoa! That number ten stood up again!” The onlookers exclaimed, their gushing hurting Fukuda’s ears. 

He watched as the kids joked about, saw their resolve strengthen from whatever Aoi’s saying, and decidedly rose from the bench.

“O-oi, Fukuda?! Don’t tell me you- You’re planning to say it now?!” Nozomi, realising the other coach’s intentions, hissed out. Fukuda waved Nozomi’s concern in dismissal

“No better time for it, right?” He shot the other coach a smirk that looked feral, eyes resembling crescent moons as he went.

The audience whispered to each other curiously when Fukuda approached the edge of the court. Fukuda fiddled with the megaphone in his hands before stopping right at the edge of the white lines. Right, here we go.

“Check, 1, 2, 3.”

That immediately captured everyone’s attention, both the players and the spectators. He could feel every eye on him. Oh, how he loves hates being the villain in the story.

“Ahem, to the exam-takers…” Fukuda started. “Before we continue the team, I have an announcement to make.”

A pause, just to heighten the suspense and curiosity.

“Before we started the game, I gave the youth team… well, a ‘handicap’ of sorts. They, are playing with a ‘reverse’ system ,” Fukuda said, expecting a reaction. When none came because –of course, who would actually understand that?–, Fukuda scratched his head in thought.

Hm… How should he rephrase to make it a lot more understandable…

‘Well, one person understood at least,’ Fukuda thought when he saw the little Ehime boy glowering brashly at him. Yeesh, Fukuda really didn’t understand the kid’s problem with him. It felt like Aoi had an eternal grudge on him or something. 

Oh. That’s it.

Fukuda snapped his fingers excitedly, pointing his index finger to the general area where Aoi was, all the while grinning broadly. The boy startled at the gesture, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“You guys remembered what number ten's original position was, right?”

No one was answering outwardly, but there were some hesitant murmurs of the word “forward”s here and there.

“That’s right! Forward!” Fukuda swirled unexpectedly, surprising a couple of onlookers that were outside the fence.

“And now heeeee’s…..?” Fukuda baited patiently, not unlike a teacher in a classroom full of introverts. The answering, “defender”s are louder this time around. And Aoi still had no fucking clue where his coach is going with all this theatrics. 

“That’s right! What I’m saying is, the Youth team is doing just that too! The players who usually played as a forward, are now playing as defenders. Offensive midfielders are playing as defensive midfielders. Aaaand, vice versa,” Fukuda explained, as if there’s no care in the world. 

“So, apart from the goalkeeper, they’ve all been playing in a position that are completely new to them.” The silence that came was loud.

Fukuda chuckled, “We’re trying to play a fair game here. We didn’t want a massive advantage on one side only. In fact, The ‘Youth’ team had to hold their own under these conditions.”

The man paused for a moment, letting the words he just spoken sink deep in everyone who's listening. He let out a careless shrug, 

“Well, that’s it. For the last 10 minutes, let’s all do our best!” 

Cruel.

It was so fucking cruel. Even right now. Even to Ashito, who’ve already experienced this once. 

Ashito grit his teeth and grip his jersey tight, forcing his head to bow towards the ground so as to not see his teammates faces. He still remembered the hurt, their crumbling hope, even months after. He didn’t want to see them lose hope twice.

“What…what’s up with that…? Positions completely new to them? Despite being on a completely different level already?” Nakano whispered as he kneeled. Ashito sincerely wishes closing his ears would also block the whispers of despair.

“Even though they’re only one year older than us… That’s the only difference. What the hell?”

“Can we even become as good as them in just a single year? ”

That snapped Ashito out of his trance. Because they can, god damnit. Ashito was the living breathing proof of it. The first time he went to Esperion he didn’t know shit. He was a rookie with too big of an ego and the dreams of a fish trying to fly. But look at him now.

Look at him now. 

Ashito kneeled right in front of Nakano, his eyes blazing. “Hey, look at me.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but it felt like all of his teammates heard him. Good. Let them hear.

Ashito bumped his head against Nakano’s. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to startle the boy out of his stupor (and alarm some of the coaches). His eyes trembled, but they found Ashito’s after a couple of seconds, though he still looked terrified. “Get your fucking head in the game. We can do it. I know we can. We just need to-”

“It’s totally impossible!” Nakano screeched, sobbing freely now.

‘Who’s he’, Ashito seethe. Who’s he to decide whether something is impossible or not. 

“Says who?” It was dangerous, the way Ashito said it. Tone lower than the usual ones he used, eyes as if looking at prey. His hand found its way to grip on Nakano’s right shoulder, not enough to hurt. Nakano shivered nonetheless.

Ashito huffed, “Nothing’s impossible. I didn’t know the difference between my right or left foot a couple years ago but look at me now. If we just try-”

Ashito felt the front of his shirt being pulled (oh wow it’s been a long time since that happened-) and came face to face with Kaneda, whose face is the epitome of anguish and rage. Lots of rage.

“We’re not YOU!” Kaneda spits in vitriol. As if the very word repulse him. But that makes no sense. Ashito knew they’re not him. So what point was this guy making now-

“We’re not geniuses like you. We can’t just change our playing style in a snap of a finger like you. We’re- we’re not Esperion material…like you.” Genius? That's the first time Ashito heard himself being called genius. He himself? He used to throw that word around in the past. Aoi Ashito, the Genius Forward. Hah. What a load of bullshit.

Geniuses, Ashito founds as he steps his foot onto Esperion grounds, are the people that didn't need hard work to succeed. They didn't need to train as much as normal people. They don't think like how average humans do. They just. Do. And they're hella good at what they do.

Ashito? With all his flaws and his incompetence and his selfish, selfish ambitions would never disgrace the word genius in association with himself ever again. 

Kaneda puts him to his feet slowly, before turning his back.

"It's like playing against eleven of you, with more skills in their arsenal. We had no freakin' chance in the first place."

Ashito stared at his retreating back, before pressing the palms of his hands onto his eyes hard. Ah. Ashito chuckled hollowly in frustration. He didn’t take this into account. His performance, as much as it helped them, was a double edged sword. Made them feel less, made them feel… inadequate.

He glanced sideways, towards Otomo and Tachibana. Did he also unknowingly instill that type of feeling too to both of his friends? Gosh he was such a piece of trash. He didn't always think things through. That's always been his problem.

‘Eyes always towards the goal and nowhere else, huh, Ashito?’ Even after all the stuff he went through, he never changed. Ashito didn’t think that it's for the better.

It’s crumbling.

Whatever it was that held the ‘selected’ team together for the first 30-ish minutes? It’s starting to unravel at the seams fast. Uncoordinated. Messy. It left them defenseless. Too many openings. Too slow. Too untalented. Nobodies, compared to the giants that was Esperion Youth. 

‘Was this the end?’, Everybody thought.

Will it end just like this? With Esperion scoring goal after goal while the ‘selected’ team scampers after them? 

Will the test, once again end with no new recruits for Esperion?

The coaches started scribbling busily. Their deft hands expertly scratched the children’s names one by one. The one who have despair on their faces. The one with terrified eyes. The one who reacted to each kick with fear. 

Fukuda put huge thick lines over their names. All except three people. Tachibana, Otomo, and Aoi. Though, that probably about to change soon. Seeing as the kid he brought all the way from Ehime was standing still at his corner. At least the other two kept on running.

Fukuda narrowed his eyes. He saw the moment the boy locked eyes with him.

‘That’s it? You’re giving up?’ He challenged. He would’ve thought this change would’ve shocked him the least. But it seemed that Fukuda stand incorrect afterall. If this type of thing could make him lose hope easily, then maybe Fukuda was wrong about the boy. 

Fukuda glanced away from Aoi, not noticing the glint in the boy's eyes. 

‘There’s too many of them,’ Tachibana thought as he desperately tried to keep the ball on his feet. He was surrounded. Otomo was on the opposite flank, and the others were too much of a coward to come in and help. Tachibana hates that they don’t fight back. That they don’t at least try. They’ve already sacrificed one goal after the whole announcement. It’s three to one now. They can't afford another, it would ruin them completely.

The others already gave up. With only him and Otomo actively playing, he had to admit that his hopes began to diminish too. They couldn’t even form the most basic form in football. Afterall, you can’t make a triangle with just two people. 

‘Please god,’ Tachibana prayed as an Esperion player tried to take the ball away from him.

‘Just one more person-’

“Tachibana!”

An angel.

“I’ve got you, keep going.”

The gods just sent him an angel.

Tachibana nodded frantically as he kept going, letting Aoi guard the Esperion player with a band over his head that kept trying to intercept him. 

Aoi Ashito wasn’t the type of kid Tachibana would’ve thought to be easily crushed. And he wasn’t! Well, at first. But after that announcement, and his talk with both Nakano and Kaneda (both of which practically drips pessimism before the game starts, by the way), he seemed to mellowed out (He wished he'd been there to keep at least Aoi's spirits up, his folks always said that regrets only came later).

Too mellowed out, now that Tachibana could once again think clearly. 

Did he have a plan…? Tachibana braved a peek towards Aoi, who’s still busy guarding two people at once away from him. Aoi Ashito was the only one of them that could have a real chance at getting to Esperion. He was the one they all depended on when hurdle after hurdle were coming at them non-stop. He’s the only reason they got this far in the first place. 

So him giving up after all that makes no sense to Tachibana. Unless the other boy has something up his sleeve. Well, Tachibana could only hope. 

Cause there ain’t no way Tachibana’s giving up after all he’s sacrificed to get here.

He’ll put all his betting hands on this one kid he barely knew, and hope for the best.

Three minutes left, and one free kick (Thank Yuuma for the handball. Though, Aoi felt bad when Akutsu gave the other boy a mean glare).

“Aoi, Tachibana!” The two boys swiveled their heads at the call.

“Leave this free kick to me, won’t ya?” Otomo cheerily said. Tachibana and Aoi stared at him for a second, before the latter let out a huff of laughter. “Sure, I’m counting on you.” Aoi pat Otomo’s shoulder firmly, letting position the ball. “What, that’s it? You’re just gonna let him?” Tachibana asked. Not meanly, the guy has no evil bones in him whatsoever, but curious. Deeply.

“Yeah, I trust him.” Aoi grinned. “Don’t make me regret it, Tomo-chan~,” Aoi joked, earning Otomo a shiver down his back.

Yeah, Otomo better put his all into this one kick. He thinks he’d hate the thought of disappointing his new friend more than losing the point.

“THUD-”

A kick by Otomo. A header right at the top right corner of the goal by Akutsu. And the ball sails, sails, sailed. Right to the player in white bib with the number ten on it.

‘Too fast.’ Asari thought. He didn’t even have the chance to register that the ball was coming towards him before the other boy took it away. There’s no scuffle, no fight over the ball. Asari just simply, plain, lost. Over someone who had to run all the way from the side of the kicker towards the other side of the field.

He tried to block off Akutsu shoutings and focus on getting the ball back, because the older one had to know. He had to. And from the sudden silence, Asari knew Akutsu realized it too. It was inhumane how this Aoi kid reacted to the ball. It’s like he predicted the trajectory before the ball even connected with Akutsu’s head. The timing was more than perfect.

It’s borderline unnatural.

It freaks Asari the fuck out. 

The only question was how. Asari took off right at Aoi’s tail. Oh, Coach Fukuda absolutely can not let this one go, he thought, not before Asari could learn from him by just being his teammate. He’d write a petition by himself if he had to.

Well, that’s for later. For now, he has a score to win. But first, he has to get rid of this one recruit first (what was his name, Nakano? Asari thought they’ve all given up ages ago). So not the time to suddenly have all that vigour back, Asari tsked. 

Well, Ashito thought.

This part was actually easier this time around. Ashito didn’t know what he was worrying about before. So what if they knew that he’s a more formidable opponent now? That’ll just made them put their guard up around him. And that’s exactly what Ashito needed right now.

He ran straight to the middle, before taking a sharp turn to the left, trying to keep down a grin that was threatening to appear at the sight of more than half of the Esperion players closing in on him.

He saw the moment Akutsu-san realized. Saw his horrified look as the older turned his head and barked up a command to “Go back!”. Ashito smiled, his upperclassman has always been smart. Of course he was. He was, unofficially the great Ashito’s mentor afterall.

But it’s way too late. The ball already soared, right towards Tachibana. He only has to go through one defender. Kiriki-san, Ashito realized. Though Tachibana wouldn’t dare push his luck on Kiriki, Ashito knew. Good, safe, choice, Ashito thinks. Even after knowing the guy, Ashito still wouldn’t want to go head to head against Kiriki-san. The guy was a force to be reckoned with. He’d surely lose. So the only other option was-

A pass. To the center. Towards Otomo. 

The others were distracted. Good. Let them be distracted. The attention was always on the ball.

Always.

A block from Akutsu made the ball soared low. All of the players nearby were unprepared. All except one. 

Akutsu hates, hates. That he knew who’s at the other side of the ball even as it’s still in the air.

It’s always that kid. The bane of his existence. Akutsu can’t even be surprised when the boy scored a clean goal from that kick. Akutsu already saw it. The aptitude. The potential. The threat the boy emitted. It sickens him.

Even more so when the boy gleefully shouted out of joy and hugged two of his teammates to the ground. 

The sounds of happiness and cheers surrounded them.

Akutsu threw his towel onto the ground.

Disgusting.

Chapter Text

Ashito was so fucking sleepy.

They, or whoever’s the name of the organization running this whole thing (well, the Tokyo City Esperion FC committee probably), literally just made them run around for half a day, gave them a full meal twice while it's still lunch, before keeping them there and told them to wait. 

Like some dogs. 

Which, to be perfectly honest, Ashito can't complain. This tactic seems to be really effective. They wait there like good boys while the adults go back and forth doing whatever the hell it is adults do. Adult stuff, if Ashito had to make a guess. Boring, he remembered Shun-nii said one of the times he declined playing ball to do what Ashito now knew was helping their mom counting taxes. Blegh. Ashito shivered at that. 

Also, if he’s a dog, Ashito volunteered to be a border collie. Don’t ask him why, or how he came to that conclusion, or he’ll go on a full tangent otherwise. Though, his mom probably would insist on him being a miniature poodle. Which he’d argue that the opinion’s biased since she'd only assigned him that because of his hair (no, he’s not pouting). Though, he reckons he’d give Otomo a chihuahua from how he reacts under pressure but chihuahua’s definitely not a breed social enough to be Otomo. A Jack-Russell terrier though…yeah. Ashito nodded his head decisively. That might work. Tachibana… now, Tachibana’s hard. Ashito with his short-circuiting brain right now can’t think of one that actually fits him perfectly and it pisses him off. An Australian shepherd? No. German, perhaps? Nah. Komondor? Well, maybe. Bull mastiff? Hmm…The only close one Ashito could think of right now was that dog whose named ‘Beethoven’ but maybe it’s just the aura the dog in that movie was emitting rather than the breed.

He’s rambling. How long were they gonna keep him waiting? Ashito peeked a glance over the infuriatingly shut door for a few seconds before huffing. His posture worsening by the minutes for sitting on those uncomfortable plastic chairs. It’s just the three of them now. Otomo, Tachibana, and him. The others had long gone with dragged feets and tears on their faces.

The three of them again.

Just like last time.

Not exactly the result Aoi was hoping for. He thought being catapulted to the past before these types of moments meant that he's supposed to change something. Anything. This was just him experiencing the exact same past all over again. He thought he could at least bring more people into Esperion. Kaneda, and maybe Nakano. But the result stayed the same.

Nothing changed.

Not even things that didn't matter changed. The scores even stayed the same, more or less. He had been hoping for at least a tie, but he lost his head for a second back there on the field and by the time he sobered up enough to collect his thoughts they already lost a point to the Youth team. A total of 5 points last time, 5 points this time too. Sure, they managed to score one more goal and defend one from being made. But what good did that make?

He dragged his eyes back to the window across the other wall, which gave him a full view of the fields. His mind wanders back to a conversation he had before they were ushered off the field. 

Ashito was packing his scant bag. It’s not even a sports bag. Or that special bag to put your shoes in or whatever it's called like the ones he saw other players had. It’s just a ratty old bag he used to wear to school. It used to have holes on it, used to, courtesy of his mother. It now has patches which are messily (lovingly) hand sewn. Which is the source of his current predicament. His water bottle had rolled off somewhere from one of the holes giving up on him and he couldn't find it for the life of him.

Ashito always had problems with finding things. Especially stuff where it's tidied up, put in tiny lockers and cabinets where it's out of sight and not cluttered in the open. His mother always said that he needs to search with his eyes and not his mouth and how could Shun and she find things better than him when he's the only one in their family with perfect vision? Which, true. And also, not his fault. She got magic hands and only inherited it to Shun-nii. It's not fair.

He was about ready to give up before he saw the bright orange bottle on the corner of his eyes. He immediately brightened and jogged over while it still slowly rolled on the grass, before stopping right next to. A crying Kaneda. Well shit. 

Asito’s sooo not the person to do this. 

He slowly grabbed his water bottle before gingerly squat next to the crying boy. 

“Um…hey.”

Hey? HEY??? A greeting was the first he said to a crying teammate he found on the side of the field?? Ashito needed someone to shoot him in the head right then and there. Please. Release him from this misery. Ashito had no idea what pushed him to sit next to Kaneda rather than just grabbing what he needed before running away, but he can't just leave the guy there right? That's like, number one rule of human empathy. Sympathy. Something like that.

Give him a break, he had no clue how to comfort someone, okay? His mother would call him ‘emotionally constipated’, well, pot calling the kettle black, ma. 

“Um, so. Are you really gonna quit football?”

Nice going, Aoi. That's the best conversation starter he could come up with? Yeah, that’d cheer the guy right up.

Kaneda paused at that though, he's lifting his head from the crooks of his arms, so only his eyes could be seen. But Aoi could see the snot and tears combining to make wet patches on his jersey jacket. 

“What d’you want, Aoi?” He said. Well, it's more muffled and Ashito had to take a second to piece together what the other boy was saying, but he got the gist.

Ashito shrugged. “Dunno. You’re here lookin’ all dejected so I thought I'll keep you company. What was it they say? Misery loves-”

Kaneda faced him fully at that. His face was blotchy from crying and the sudden rage he's displaying at the words Ashito was spouting. “That phrase only works if you're also suffering with me! It doesn't work when I'm here, miserable, while you get your whole future ahead of you! It just doesn't work like that!”

Ashito didn't flinch. He never flinched in front of people yelling in front of his face. Not Togashi, not Akutsu, not even his mom. Because Ashito didn’t believe him. Words weren't enough. Words can be fabricated into a weave to hide your emotions in or a shield to defend yourself. It can be used to distract someone from the things they're trying to hide. No. What Ashito needed was the scrunch of his eyebrows. The trembling of his lips. The unshed tears in Kaneda’s eyes. 

Sadness. Anguish. Rage.

But also. 

Hope. 

Because he's angry. Because he thought he could've done better. And Ashito agrees. 

‘He hasn't given up yet,’ was Ashito’s thought as he moved closer.

“That's it? You're just gonna quit?” Ashito boldly exclaims. Kaneda looked at him as if Ashito’s grown a second head. Ashito wishes he doesn’t. One head already has enough ego.

Kaneda gritted his teeth. “You don't understand. We’re not you,” He spits the last word with vitriol. That again. He's speaking like the word is a slur. It's not, but Aoi can't help but think that Kaneda wishes it was.

“Of course you’re not me. Stupid Occhan won’t know what to do with multiple of me’s.” 

Kaneda huffs out a tiny incredulous laugh, “You’re impossible.” Ashito smiled a little. See? He successfully draw out a laugh. He's not totally hopeless at this cheering people up thing.

It was silence for a while, before Ashito adds on, almost in a whisper, “You can't quit after this.”

His companion was about to object, when Ashito continues, “You won’t. That's just the type of guy you are, Kaneda-san.” The other boy's expression turned serious. It's really giving Kaneda a whiplash. (Kaneda didn’t know what it is, but at the time he felt compelled to listen to whatever the shorter boy say next to him.  He gulped, Aoi has a different feel than earlier. His gaze was intense, and Kaneda didn’t know whether to keep staring or look away. He could feel shivers down his nape and sweat running through his brows and, who is this guy, what is wrong with him-)

Kaneda won’t quit. He can’t. Because in the future he’d be a formidable enough opponent for Ashito to struggle upon. Because not even for Ashito, he’d be a great opponent for the other guys in Esperion. They need someone like Kaneda to learn from, varieties of different styles of the way people play, in order for Esperion to grow. And maybe that made Ashito selfish, for only thinking about Esperion even now, but he can’t find it in himself to feel guilty about it. Not when Kaneda himself will be benefitted by this too, right? Ashito’s convinced that this is a win-win situation.

Anything, for his teammates. 

After a while of non-answer, Ashito sighed heavily. Like it's his second lifetime or something.

“You see that guy? The bald one.”

Kaneda teared his eyes to follow Ashito’s finger to where he was pointing. He could see a lone Esperion member picking up the orange cones they used for the tests earlier. “The guy you foolishly fought head to head on?”

Ashito didn’t react to the dig, his eyes laser focused on one person and one person only.  “Yeah. that guy. He's pretty darn good when he moves forward wasn’t he, even though he’s a defender?”

“Where are you going with this?” Kaneda tilted his head, his eyes filled with suspicion.

Ashito shrugged easily, no weight in his shoulders. “If he really is a forward, with teammates that could back him up perfectly, could you imagine?”

Ashito could see the second Kaneda understood the implications, eyes widened as his head swiveled quick, drinking in the sight of Akutsu as if a man starved. He was now a little ways over the other bench, strong shoulders and big frame covering his other teammates. Ashito flinched when he saw Akutsu noticing him, the usual glare and scowl prominent on his face. Ashito sheepishly gave him a, ‘sorry’ gesture, and somehow that deepened his scowl even more. 

Well, if Akutsu-san knew the context, he'd be even angrier, Ashito supposed. He basically just helped their future enemy, though no one knows but him.

He took a careful look on his convo partner, whose still looking ways ahead, as if forgetting Ashito was even there. He could see the resolve hardens and the hope glittered in his eyes. Ashito smiled to himself. His job here was done.

Aoi Ashito walked in through the door with heavy lidded eyes and heavy limbs, exhausted from all the activities throughout the day. A coach explained to him in curt words that this was just an interview, that he didn’t need to be afraid or stiff, just answer the words that came to his mind. Well, all of it was true, but Fukuda can’t help but feel that the kid was much too relaxed for the supposed “final test’”, as he waved and Aoi waved back with a small ‘hey’. 

Fukuda cleared his throat, “Well then, what’dya think?”

The boy scruched his eyebrows at the question, “...about?”

Aaah right, first question and Fukuda fucked it up already. He could feel Nozomi’s piercing stares from his left, practically telling him to pull himself together. Yeah, yeah. Fukuda can’t help it. He felt giddy. He let out a grin, “About our youth team of course!”

 “They were strong.” The first thing that came to mind. An expected answer. It was boring, but Fukuda could take the compliment. He was the one who trains them after all.

“Everyone was really good. I could see that clearly, even when they’re not in their normal positions. They must've been even more incredible if you let them play in their original placements.”

Compliments. It was compliments after compliments. But why does Fukuda feel like the boy isn't done yet? 

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ in there?” Fukuda trailed off, anticipating.

Aoi Ashito straightened his posture, and stared at them in the eyes. “Sure, maybe they’re not even giving it their all out there and they could still easily crush us. It must’ve been tough training in a position that’s so much different than what you were used to and still could perform a perfect strategy. But I just feel like…” The kid paused, as if afraid to let out his real thoughts. 

Fukuda put his head on his right hand, smiling with glee. His left hand gestured subtly, an encouraging ‘go on’. Aoi steeled himself at that. 

A deep breath. “I just feel like it’s too… perfect. It was executed well. Really well. The strategy, the formation, the tactics. I could see the hours of hard work you all put in. It’s like a well oiled machine. I just think that everyone has things they’re good at. Their individual skills must’ve been top notch. But I feel like there’s a lack of…understanding, among them.”

“Are you…criticizing our team work?” Coach Tsukishima from his corner of the room sounded appalled.

Aoi fluttered at that, “Ah! I wasn't criticizing you or anything! I just thought that it was a shame-”

“A shame?” Nozomi raised an eyebrow. ‘Ooooh~ even Nozomi’s intrigued,’ Fukuda smirked.

The boy stopped himself from fidgeting, his face flushed red. “A shame since they could be even better, of course.”

Fukuda laughed. “I think what our little shepherd is trying to say here is that in theory, they’re great. Amazing even in the eyes of someone like Aoi, maybe. But theory is not real world. Each person has their own style of playing. Have their own unique personalities. Choices in the field that would differ based on those two things. And our players lack the understanding of the way each other play. ” Fukuda explained to his fellow coaches, who looked back at the boy in the room with a new perspective.

"Though, cut us some slack, would you, Aoi-kun. Some of them have just been playing together for about a week, afterall." Aoi looked like a deer in headlights at the statement.

“But you know, regarding that. Because of this little ‘reverse’ stunt, our players now know more about defensive players, and vice versa. I believe that it was a step into the right direction, don’t you think?” Aoi nodded his head vigorously at that. Fukuda smiled in satisfaction.

“Fukuda,” Nozomi called. “Ask him about the passes.”

“Eeeeh… Ask him yourself.”

“...Fine. Throughout the game we could see that the ball somehow always lands towards you, or conveniently goes to the members with the most advantageous places. Could you tell us in detail how you did it, and what you were thinking as you carried out those plays?” Fukuda played with his pen while asking. He, of course already knew about the boy’s large field of vision. But he didn’t know that Aoi could use it to his advantage so much during the game. The kid didn’t play like that the last time Fukuda saw him. Was he hiding it? No, faking a skill like that is much harder than you’d think. It’s oftentimes easier to pretend you're leagues better rather than undermine your own ability.

Aoi tilted his head, taking his time to answer. Fukuda can’t help but feel amused for thinking that answering these interviews is harder for Aoi than being tested in the fields.

“I thought… if I were this guy, where would I send this ball to? What’s the most logical thing to do, that kind of thing…?”

Fukuda frowned at that. “...logic?” He muttered. There’s nothing logical about the way the boy played. 

“Aaah...maybe ‘logical’ isn’t the best way to describe it. It’s more like, it make sense, y’know, that you’d sent it to the most convenient place,” Aoi tried to elaborate, his eyes darting around the room, trying his best to articulate his words. 

“And if the player isn’t convenient? It’s one thing to, what, basically predict your teammates’ moves, Aoi-kun. But you could somehow see through ours too. How?” And isn’t that the million dollar question. Trust Nozomi to ask the important stuff and keep this interview going. Whatever shall Esperion do without Nozomi here. Crash and burn, probably.

Something in the boys’ eyes changed. Light glinted through them. “I thought…if it’s that guy…he’d definitely send the ball there.” He’s frowning himself, as if dissatisfied with his own explanation but can’t elaborate more. 

Tsukishima perked up at that, “So…intuition?”

“Not…really? I tried...to think about it. That’s the best place to send it to, but if he suddenly got blocked, where else? Who’s his most trustworthy teammate? Who is he inclined to pass the ball to? If the play fails, what’s their possible backup plans? I think…I tried to take account of these things.”

And oh,

Isn’t that amazing? 

Fukuda’s grin was wide as he took in Nozomis’ and the other coaches' reaction at that. If the boy agrees that the incredible play was because of something as flimsy as ‘intuition’, they’d end the interview right then and there. There’s not much they can do for a player who relies heavily on intuition. Sure, it’s powerful if used right, but it’s unreliable. Plus, you can’t train intuition. They could accept him to Esperion, but he’ll stay stagnant. He won’t grow, just another stepping stone for the other aspiring players.

But if what the boy said was true. That he actually thought through it all in the milliseconds it took to make a decision, then they’ve basically stumbled into a gold mine. Now, isn’t Fukuda such a great scout? 

“Did you think about anything else?”

The answer, unlike before, was quick, 

“About my mom and my big brother.” 

A sudden change of topic. It took the coaches off guard.

“I was really thinking…that I’m only here thanks to them.”

“Until today I have been playing football in a really selfish manner.”

“What I really wanted isn’t something that can be attained with words alone.”

“I don’t know whether I pass this exam or not. But regarding being selfish, I must stress that, I will not join Esperion without a scholarship.”

“Even so, thank you, Fukuda Occhan, for bringing me here to this place.”

“Whether or not I got into Esperion, I won’t back down on becoming a professional.”

Ha. 

Fukuda must’ve lost his mind.

Because that last line sounds an awful lot like a threat. 

And god help Esperion if they had to go against an opponent like Aoi Ashito.