The noise of 90,000 people seemed distant now, like waves breaking against a faraway beach. Kai Hasegawa lay on the well-manicured grass of Madrid's Santiago Bernabéu Stadium, his long black hair stretched out beneath him like spilled ink. The enormous screen overhead displayed the eighty-seventh minute of the Champions League final, but he couldn't lift his head to see it.

This is not how things were supposed to finish.

His right knee flared with familiar agony—the same knee that had nearly ruined his career when he was sixteen and had now finally finished the job at the age of twenty-six. The team doctor's remarks from that morning rang in his head: "One wrong move, Hasegawa-san, and it could be your last." He should've listened.

However, strikers do not become legendary by playing it safe.

The ball was still moving someplace outside his field of vision, and the match continued without him. His colleagues' yells blended with the referee's whistle and the ultras' thundering chants. "KAI! KAI! KAI!" They still believed in him, even as he lay on the pitch like a fallen warrior.

"Can you stand?" The referee's face appeared above him, with concern etched into the wrinkles around his eyes. Behind him, Kai could see the indistinct figure of Carlos, his claimed best friend and five-year comrade, gazing from a distance. The same Carlos who had warned their opponents about Kai's weakness—his right knee, which remained delicate after all these years.

The tackle had been accurate and focused. Professional. They knew just where they wanted to hit him.

"I just... need a minute," Kai mumbled through clinched teeth, but they both knew he was lying. The medical personnel were already racing onto the field, their boots squeaking on the wet grassMadrid had been hit by a summer storm, which made the field hazardous and slick. perfect conditions for a "accident."

While the medical personnel worked around him, Kai's mind wandered to the path that had led him here. For ten years, he sacrificed everything, overworked his body, and prioritized fame over friendship. He broke scoring records in three leagues, becoming the highest-paid Asian player in European football history, and earned the moniker "The Phantom Striker" for his seemingly magical ability to go undetected in front of goal.

But along the way, he had also lost something. The pure delight of the game, the faith in his teammates, and the idea that talent and hard effort alone could propel him to the top. The football world had taught him a harsh lesson one betrayal at a time.

"We need to get you off the field, Hasegawa-san," the head medic murmured softly in Japanese, respecting their shared nationality. "The damage... it's extensive."

Kai closed his eyes and felt the first hot tears fall down his temples. Above him, the stadium lights flashed like artificial stars, making his world appear white behind his closed eyes. His squad was trailing 2-1. One goal was all they needed to force overtime. One moment of magic that he could no longer offer.

"Help me up," he muttered.

"Hasegawa-san, your knee—"

"Help me up!"

The medical crew exchanged glances before lifting him gingerly. The stadium exploded in applause as he rose to his feet, leaning heavily on the chief doctor. Kai lifted his hand to acknowledge the audience, and the cheers became louder. They thought he was coming back on. They had no idea they were seeing his final minutes on a professional pitch.

As the medical staff assisted him to the sideline, Kai attracted Carlos's attention. His old friend had the decency to turn away, but Kai saw what he needed to see: shame and relief. The betrayal had fulfilled its goal. With Kai gone, Carlos would take over as the team's top striker, just as he had always intended.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the stadium announcer announced, "substitution for Bayern Munich." Coming off, number nine, Kai Hasegawa."

The applause was thunderous. He realized he was receiving a standing ovation. Even Madrid fans rose to their feet to mark the end of an era. Kai felt his chest tightening. They had no idea that this was not just his last game of the season, but also his last game ever.

In the tunnel, away from the cameras and the audience, Kai finally allowed himself to collapse. The pain had been excruciating, blasting through his entire leg like lightning. Team doctors flocked around him, their voices urgent yet distant. He recognized he was going into shock from a distance.

"Stay with us, Hasegawa-san!"

"His pulse is dropping!"

"Get the defibrillator!"

The tunnel's fluorescent lights began to fade, the voices growing fainter. Kai thought of his sixteen-year-old self, full of dreams and potential, unaware of the cruel twists fate had in store. If only he could go back, do things differently, choose his friends more carefully, protect his body better...

If only I had one more chance...

The lights went out completely, and Kai Hasegawa, the Phantom Striker, closed his eyes for the last time.

Until he opened them again, ten years in the past, staring at the familiar ceiling of his childhood bedroom.

The alarm clock on his bedside table read 6:30 AM, April 15, 2014.

His first day at Hoshiyama High School.

His second chance.