Chapter 85: A Stroke of Genius.
"Block him! Don't let him score, no matter what!!"
Rentaro's voice ripped through the humid afternoon air like a command from an army general, loud and clear, ensuring that every player on the field felt the weight of his demand.
All eyes were on me. The weight of the ball beneath my foot was no heavier than the attention bearing down from every direction. I was the center of their focus, and not just in this moment. It happens in every moment, in every aspect of life. If you stand out, you're in the spotlight. If you don't, you fade into obscurity like the background noise everyone forgets.
There's a common belief that talent is a gift bestowed upon a select few. But that's a misconception. Every person holds some form of talent. Whether it's art, communication, or even something as subtle as listening, we all harbor skills that make us unique. Some people go through life thinking they're untalented simply because their gift remains undiscovered or undervalued. The pressures of society—especially school—bury many potential talents before they have a chance to shine.
"I won't let you!"
Kagami and Mikage charged toward me, their expressions fierce as if daring me to prove them wrong. Their feet moved with the precision of practiced athletes, determined to close the gap.
But they didn't see it—the opening, the crack in their formation.
"Nothing is impossible if you try hard enough… unless it's something ridiculous like breathing in space without a suit. That's impossible."
I couldn't help but laugh to myself as I glanced back at the ball. The sweat dripped down my brow, but the tension in the air seemed to pull the corners of my lips into a grin. The ball was in position. Now, it was time to show them what I could do, something more than just jokes.
'Here goes anything...'
I took a deep breath and kicked the ball.
*Smash!*
The sound of impact echoed and I didn't celebrate.
The ball ricocheted off the goalpost with a resounding thud. I sighed under my breath.
Just as I saw Rentaro, with his monstrous power, launch the ball into the stratosphere. That shot could have sent the ball into orbit.
"Hm... a monster?" I muttered, almost chuckling at the absurdity of it all.
I hadn't even fully processed what happened when I noticed Mikage right beside me, his speed almost supernatural. How did he manage to close the distance so quickly, i wonder?
"...."
I decided to just sit back and watch the match.
•••••
As the ball flew through the air again, a bad pass courtesy of Yuuki, the field descended into chaos. Boys scrambled left and right, their faces contorted with various expressions. Some were grinning, some laughing, others wore a dead-serious look as if the outcome of this game mattered more than anything in the world. But what unified them was the sheer joy of playing. The status of their upbringing, the responsibilities weighing on their shoulders—none of it mattered right now. They were just kids playing soccer, and for a brief moment, they forgot all about the world outside the field.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was about to happen. An awkward situation was brewing, one where we wouldn't be able to determine a clear winner.
That was my–Tarazune akehis prediction.
••••••
There's something unsettling about realizing you're surrounded by geniuses and yet finding comfort in their shared humanity. These boys—my friends—they seem like normal kids, but they're far from it.
They've been burdened with expectations and responsibilities that most of us couldn't even begin to comprehend. Eyes are always on them, waiting for them to fail. And when they do, they aren't just scolded; they're torn apart by those watching. That's what separates them from us. It's a wall, and while they didn't build it intentionally, it's there, keeping everyone at bay.
For the longest time, I thought being in their position would be a blessing. But now, after standing beside them, I realize how suffocating it must be. In comparison, my life seems like a breath of fresh air. Studying, living with my sister, being lazy—that's freedom, a freedom they'll never know while under constant scrutiny.
•••••
Mikage stood at the frontlines of the team, determined to lead us to victory. His leadership had always been our backbone, but today, even he seemed to falter. I could see it in his eyes—the doubt.
We were up against talent far greater than any we'd faced before. No matter how strong his leadership, Mikage knew it wouldn't be enough. We were facing geniuses, and sometimes, even the best leaders have to admit defeat.
•••••
"The ball is up! Up!" Rentaro shouted, his voice ringing through the field as the ball soared through the air once more.
Every player turned their gaze upward, watching it rise and fall. But as they watched, they each made the same fatal mistake.
'No one is in the right position to intercept it,' most of them thought.
Key word: most.
A boy with white hair—Ming Chen—positioned himself perfectly beneath the falling ball, the wind swirling around him. His calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the frenzy of the game. With a swift, practiced movement, he tapped the ball lightly, surveying the field like a general overseeing a battlefield.
He saw something no one else did. Thousands of possibilities flashed before him, but only one path remained.
"My victory," he whispered, his voice lost in the wind.
*Smash!*
He kicked the ball with all his strength, sending it hurtling toward the goal with a force that stunned everyone on the field.
Rentaro, ever the stalwart goalkeeper, was already in motion, positioning himself with the precision of a seasoned veteran. His eyes locked on the spinning ball, predicting its trajectory.
'I've got it,' he thought confidently.
But Chen wasn't just any player. He was a sore loser, a strategist who had meticulously prepared for this moment. Since the beginning of his practice for this day.
The ball slammed into the ground, a bit farther than Rentaro anticipated. He rushed to catch it, but the ball's incredible spin lifted it off the ground at the last second, sailing over his outstretched fingers.
"Shit!" Rentaro cursed, leaping into the air in a desperate attempt to recover, but it was too late.
The ball, carried by the wind and its own unstoppable momentum, twisted toward the goal. Rentaro's fingers brushed the air just beneath it.
*Swish!*
The ball soared past Rentaro and into the goal with a sharp finality, the sound of victory echoing through the field.
*Ding! Ding! Ding!*
The shrill sound of the referee's whistle followed, signaling the end of the game. The 40-minute match was over, and the field fell into a stunned silence.
•••••••
"Amazing…"
"What the hell was that?"
"Was that even humanly possible?"
"I... don't think so..."
Chidori's players were frozen, their jaws slack as they stared at the goal. Roward's players were no different. The shock of what had just happened rippled through both teams.
Namamkemo wiped the sweat from his brow, his breath shaky. "...I don't know how to celebrate this goal."
"Did anyone see that coming?" Akeshi's voice broke the silence as he glanced at his teammates. They all shook their heads.
In the center of the field, Ming Chen stood, his right hand raised in quiet triumph, a soft smile playing on his lips.
'In this world... for us humans, nothing is impossible,' Chen thought, his chest swelling with pride.
In that single moment, Ming Chen had not only won the game, but he had solidified his place as a strategist unlike any other—a boy with the ability to predict the impossible and make it happen.