Beyond the Pitch

Later that evening, Gabriel sat at the dinner table, absently pushing rice around his plate. His mother and Aiko chatted about their day, but his mind was elsewhere—still lingering on practice, on the team's strange atmosphere, on Takeshi.

"Gabriel."

His mother's voice snapped him back to reality. He blinked and looked up.

"You've barely touched your food," she said, eyeing him with concern. "Is something wrong?"

He hesitated, then shook his head. "Just tired."

Aiko pouted. "You promised you'd eat dinner with us, but you're not even eating!"

Gabriel sighed, giving her a small smile. "Fine, fine." He took a bite to appease her.

Still, even as the conversation continued around him, his thoughts remained elsewhere.

The Next Day

Gabriel arrived at school earlier than usual, hoping to find answers. The halls were mostly empty except for a few students, but near the club-room, he spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall.

Takeshi.

This time, Gabriel didn't hesitate. He walked straight over.

"Hey."

Takeshi barely acknowledged him, his gaze fixed on the floor. "What do you want?"

Gabriel look at him. "Why weren't you at practice yesterday?"

Takeshi scoffed. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," Gabriel admitted. "But something's off with this team, and from what I can tell, you might know why."

Takeshi finally looked at him, his expression unreadable. "You're new. You don't know anything."

"Then tell me."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Takeshi's grip tightened on the strap of his bag before he let out a breath.

"Not here," he muttered. Then, without another word, he pushed off the wall and walked away.

Gabriel frowned. That was the closest thing to an answer he'd gotten yet.

One thing was clear—there was more to this team than what he'd seen so far.

And he wasn't going to stop until he figured it out.

The weight of the day settled in as Gabriel stepped onto the field. The usual pre-practice routine unfolded—players stretching, lacing up cleats, and chatting in low voices. But his mind was still on his conversation with Takeshi.

Not here.

What did he mean by that?

Gabriel glanced around. Takeshi wasn't on the field. Again.

"Hey, you good?" Ryota clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You're being spacing out since this morning."

Gabriel shook his head, pushing his thoughts aside. "I'm fine."

"Well, you better be. Coach isn't in a good mood today."

Before Gabriel could ask why, the sharp sound of a whistle cut through the air.

"Listen up!" Coach's voice was firm. "We've got a practice match today. Two teams, full-length game. Show me what you've got."

A murmur spread through the team. Some looked eager, others indifferent. Gabriel felt that same odd energy—detached, almost uninterested.

What the hell happened to this team?

As they divided into teams, Gabriel found himself on a squad with Ryota, Kenta, and Daichi. On the opposite side, Renji, Hikaru, and the other seniors took their positions.

From the first whistle, Gabriel could tell—this wasn't just practice.

The seniors played hard. Not reckless, but aggressive, as if they had something to prove. Gabriel fought to keep up, pressing forward, linking up with Ryota, pushing past defenders.

Then, just as he broke free near the box, a hard tackle sent him tumbling to the ground.

Gabriel clenched his teeth, looking up. Renji stood over him, offering a hand.

"Not bad," Renji said. "But you're still a step too slow."

Gabriel ignored the hand, pushing himself up. His heart pounded. Not from frustration—but from excitement.

They wanted to go hard on him? Fine. He was more than ready.

As the game went on, Gabriel adjusted, matching their intensity. His passes were sharper, his runs more precise. The ball found his feet just outside the box.

One chance.

He feinted left, then cut right, slipping past Hikaru before firing a low shot past the keeper.

The net rippled.

A moment of silence. Then—

A few claps. Muted approval. No real celebration.

Gabriel exhaled, hands on his knees. Even scoring a goal didn't change the atmosphere.

Why did it feel like something was missing?

As practice ended, Gabriel grabbed his bag and lingered near the locker room. He had to find Takeshi. He needed answers.

Then, just as he was about to leave, he saw him.

Takeshi stood near the fence, staring at the empty field.

Gabriel took a deep breath and walked over.

"You said 'not here." He stopped beside him. "So tell me now. What's wrong with this team?"

Takeshi didn't look at him, but his jaw tightened.

For a long moment, there was silence.

Then, finally—

"They gave up."

Gabriel frowned. "What?"

Takeshi exhaled, his gaze still locked on the field.

"This team… they stopped believing."

Gabriel felt a chill run down his spine.

Takeshi turned, his expression unreadable. "If you really want to know why… meet me after school tomorrow."

Then, just like before, he walked away.

Gabriel clenched his fists.

Whatever happened to this team—it ran deeper than he thought.

And he was going to find out the truth.

The next day, Gabriel couldn't shake Takeshi's words from his mind.

"They gave up."

What did that even mean? How could an entire team—especially one with some talent as this—just stop believing?

Classes passed in a blur. Even during lunch, when Ryota and Kenta dragged him into a conversation about the upcoming tournament, Gabriel found himself distracted. His mind kept circling back to the same question.

When the final bell rang, he wasted no time. Slipping his bag over his shoulder, he made his way toward the back of the school where Takeshi had told him to meet.

The area was quiet, tucked away from the usual foot traffic of students heading home. A few stray leaves rustled in the breeze as Gabriel leaned against the wall, waiting.

Minutes passed. Then, finally—

Footsteps.

Takeshi emerged from around the corner, hands in his pockets, his usual distant expression in place. He stopped a few feet away and studied Gabriel carefully.

"You actually came," Takeshi said.

Gabriel crossed his arms. "You said you'd tell me what's going on."

Takeshi let out a slow breath, then nodded.

"Alright," he muttered. "You want the truth? Here it is."

He turned slightly, eyes narrowing as he stared into the distance.

"Last year… we had a shot. The best shot we'd ever had." His voice was steady but carried an edge of something deeper—bitterness, regret. "We had one of the best lineup, the best chemistry. We made it all the way to the regional quarter-finals."

Gabriel listened in silence, his chest tightening as he sensed where this was going.

"But we lost." Takeshi's fists clenched. "Not because we weren't good enough. Not because the other team outplayed us." His jaw tightened. "We lost because of a mistake."

He turned to Gabriel, eyes sharp.

"Our captain—missed a penalty in the final minutes. And everything we worked for was gone."

Gabriel inhaled slowly.

"And after that…?"

Takeshi's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"Everything fell apart."

Silence stretched between them.

"The team never recovered from that loss," Takeshi continued, his voice quieter now. "Some players quit. The ones who stayed—they act like they're still playing, but they're not. They're just going through it.

Gabriel processed his words, the puzzle pieces start to clicking into place.

That's why the team felt so… hollow. Why the seniors, the most experienced players, barely reacted even when they played well.

They were still haunted by the past.

Gabriel exhaled. "Who was the captain?"

Takeshi's gaze darkened.

"You already know."

Takahashi.

The team's current captain—the one who had welcomed Gabriel but seemed distant. The one who had told him he could ask questions but had never spoken about the past.

He had been the one to miss the penalty.

Takeshi turned away, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

"That's the truth," he muttered. "Now you understand."

Gabriel was silent for a moment. Then, finally—

"No."

Takeshi blinked, turning to him. "What?"

Gabriel straightened. "I get what happened. I get why they feel like this. But I don't understand why you gave up too."

Takeshi's eyes narrowed. "I didn't—"

"You did." Gabriel stepped forward. "You weren't at practice the last two days. You act like this isn't your problem. But you're still here. If you really didn't care, you would've quit too."

Takeshi flinched. Just for a second. But Gabriel caught it.

A beat of silence.

Then Takeshi scoffed, shaking his head. "You don't get it. You weren't there."

Gabriel met his gaze. "No, I wasn't. But i don't understand what the point on just give up."

Takeshi stared at him. "You won't even get it there is more than that... It's pointless now."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.

Gabriel didn't stop him this time.

He only said. "If you never accept the frustration of losing, you'll never grow"

 Listening to what Gabriel had just said, Takeshi gritted his teeth as he advanced.