Beyond the Pitch

After lunch, the weight of the conversation lingered in Gabriel's mind. He knew something was wrong with this team, something deeper than just fear of Izumi High. And Takeshi—where the hell had he gone?

The thought ate at him the rest of the school day, making it hard to focus. By the time classes ended, his frustration had settled into something heavier, something he couldn't shake.

At home. Gabriel threw his bag onto his bed and collapsed into his desk chair, staring at the ceiling. The anger he had bottled up during practice, during lunch, during the walk home—it was still there, boiling under his skin.

He clenched his fists.

"This team is ridiculous."

He muttered it under his breath, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to shake every single one of his teammates and make them care.

"Giving up before its even starts?" He scoffed. "What kind of athlete does that?"

His eyes drifted to the soccer ball in the corner of his room. Without thinking, he stood up, grabbed it, and tossed it against the wall. It bounced back, and he caught it, squeezing it hard.

A knock on his door.

"Gabriel?" His mother's voice.

He sighed, dropping the ball onto the floor. "Yeah?"

The door cracked open, and his mom peeked in. "You're being loud."

Gabriel rubbed his face. "Sorry..."

She stepped inside, arms crossed. "Rough practice?"

He hesitated. "Something like that."

His mom studied him, then walked over and sat on his bed. "You always get like this when something isn't going the way you want it to."

Gabriel frowned. "I don't—"

"Yes, you do," she interrupted, smiling knowingly. "You bottle it up until you explode."

Gabriel sighed, slumping back in his chair. He stared at the ball on the floor.

"I just don't get it," he muttered. "Why join a team if you're not gonna fight? Why play if you've already given up?"

His mom was quiet for a moment. Then, softly, she asked, "Is this about your teammates?"

Gabriel exhaled sharply. "Yeah. They're all just… waiting to lose. It's like they've already accepted it." His jaw tightened. "It pisses me off."

His mom hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe they have their reasons."

"That's what everyone keeps saying." Gabriel shook his head. "But reasons don't change the fact that we have a game coming up. And if they don't try, we'll definitely lose."

His mom chuckled. "You know, you sound just like your father."

Gabriel blinked, caught off guard. "…Huh?"

She smiled wistfully. "He was the same way when something didn't go like he want, he'd take it personally. Like it was his job to fix it."

Gabriel's throat tightened. He glanced away. "Yeah, well… I'm not trying to fix anyone."

His mom gave him a look. "Aren't you?"

Gabriel didn't answer.

After a moment, she stood up and ruffled his hair. "Just don't let your frustration make you reckless, okay? I don't want something wrong happen like last time... you can't change people overnight."

Gabriel frowned but nodded. "Yeah."

His mom smiled, then headed for the door. "Dinner in an hour."

As soon as she left, Gabriel leaned back and groaned, rubbing his face.

Maybe they have their reasons.

Takeshi. The seniors. Even the coach.

Gabriel scowled. He didn't care about their reasons. He just wanted them to fight.

With a sharp exhale, he grabbed the soccer ball and left his room. He needed to clear his head.

The streets were quiet as Gabriel jogged toward the nearby park, soccer ball tucked under his arm. The cool night air did little to ease the heat burning inside him. His conversation with his mom still echoed in his head.

"You can't change people overnight.""Maybe they have their reasons."

He gritted his teeth. He didn't care about reasons. He just wanted to play—

Arriving at the empty field, he dropped the ball onto the grass and started dribbling. Fast touches. He pushed himself hard, sprinting between makeshift cones—just a few old water bottles he'd grabbed on his way out.

Pass. Turn. Shoot.

The ball thudded against the rusted chain-link fence behind the goalpost. Not good enough.

Gabriel exhaled sharply and went again.

Faster this time. More precise. Every pass, every strike—he wanted it to mean something. Because on the field, it felt like he was the only one who gave a damn.

A voice cut through the night.

"You always train like you're fighting for your life?"

Gabriel turned, breathing hard.

Satoshi stood by the fence, hands in his pockets, watching him with an amused smirk.

"What are you doing here?" Gabriel asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

Satoshi shrugged. "Figured I'd find you here. You stormed off brfore dinner, so I thought, 'Where else would an idiot like you would go?"

Gabriel scoffed. "And you decided to follow me?"

"Look, i know your pissed off by what happening with your team" Satoshi stepped onto the field, stretching his arms. "Besides, I could use some extra practice."

Gabriel watched as Satoshi picked up the ball, juggling it effortlessly. He was good—better than he let look.

"Its been a while i didn't see you play," Gabriel muttered.

Satoshi sighed. "You right." He flicked the ball toward Gabriel.

Gabriel caught it with his foot, his frustration cooling just a little. "Fine. Then let's train."

They didn't hold back.

One-on-ones. Passing drills. Shooting. Gabriel pushed Satoshi, and Satoshi pushed back. It was the most intense training Gabriel had had since joining the team.

He felt less frustrated.

By the time they finished, both of them were drenched in sweat, breathing hard. Satoshi sat down on the grass, stretching out his legs.

"Its been a while since i move like that," he said between breaths, "At least i know your less frustrated."

Gabriel dropped beside him, rolling the ball between his feet. "Im still frustrated but i'm more at ease now."

Satoshi chuckled. "You're insane."

Gabriel smirked. "I just don't like they're reaction give up before it start its the thing i hate the most."

They sat in silence for a while, the sounds of crickets filling the air.

Eventually, Satoshi spoke again. "Look… I don't know what its really happening with your teammates. But don't let your anger and frustration take over you, you know what happened last time i don't want you to be in trouble again."

Gabriel's jaw tightened and he look down. "I know."

 Satoshi stood up, dusting off his shorts. "I'm sure your not alone in your team, there maybe player who think like you."

Gabriel sighed. "Your right." In his thought I'm not alone Ryota, Kenta, Daichi...even if its only us.

 Satoshi stretched, flashing Gabriel a grin. "I'm sure you'll find what to do."

Gabriel stared at the ground.

He exhaled slowly, standing up. "We'll see."

As they both headed back in the house.

The Next Morning, gabriel barely slept. His body ached from last night's training, but his mind wouldn't stop racing.

"I'm sure you're not alone."

Satoshi's words stuck with him.

Ryota. Kenta. Daichi. They weren't like the others. They still had fire. Maybe it wasn't as obvious as his own, but it was there.

Maybe they just needed a push.

As the morning sun streamed through his window, Gabriel sat on the edge of his bed, tying his shoelaces. If this team wasn't going to fight on its own, then he will with or without them.

No more waiting.

At School 

The locker room was unusually quiet when Gabriel arrived for practice. Players sat on benches, lacing up their cleats, their conversations low. It was the same as always—like they were preparing for a funeral instead of a game.

Gabriel's jaw tightened.

Ryota noticed him first and gave a nod. Kenta and Daichi were close by, but the rest of the team barely looked up.

Then, just as Gabriel was about to speak, the door swung open.

Takeshi.

The room tensed.

Gabriel stared as Takeshi walked in, his expression unreadable. It was the first time he'd shown up for practice in days. Even the seniors—usually so indifferent—looked at him with uncertainty.

Takeshi didn't say a word. He just grabbed his jersey, sat down, and started changing.

Gabriel clenched his fists. This was his chance.

He took a step forward.

"Where the hell have you been?"

The room went dead silent.

Takeshi paused but didn't look up.

Gabriel wasn't going to back down. "You vanish for days, show up like nothing happened, and expect us to just move on?"

Ryota winced. Kenta shifted uncomfortably.

Takeshi exhaled through his nose, finally meeting Gabriel's glare. His eyes were sharp, but there was something else there—something heavy.

"Does it matter?" Takeshi said flatly.

Gabriel's temper flared. "Of course it matters! How are we supposed to work as a team if everyone act like he didn't care if we win or lose?"

A few players stirred, glancing between them.

Takeshi stood up slowly, looking Gabriel dead in the eye. "You don't understand anything."

Gabriel scoffed. "Then explain it to me."

Takeshi's jaw tightened. For a second, Gabriel thought he might actually say something.

But instead, Takeshi turned away, grabbing his water bottle. "Just drop it."

Gabriel felt something snap.

"No." His voice was sharp. "I'm not dropping it."

Takeshi stopped, his grip tightening around the bottle.

Gabriel took a step closer. "You say I don't understand? Then make me understand. Because all I see is someone who's already given up. And if that's the case, maybe you should just quit."

A few gasps echoed around the room.

Takeshi's eyes darkened.

For a moment, nobody moved. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating.

Then, slowly, Takeshi turned back around.

"I have no reason to tell you." His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it—like a storm waiting to break.

Gabriel didn't back down. "So you'll just walking away again."

Takeshi exhaled through his nose, then walked past him toward the field.

"If you want to lead your anger do it on the captain of this team not me." As he look at Takahashi

Gabriel frowned, watching him go.