Arya stood at the edge of the field, hands buried in his jacket pockets. His eyes followed his teammates as they prepared. Reza was already stretching, other players tying their shoelaces or passing the ball around casually.
He looked down at his own feet. It had been a long time since he last touched a ball seriously. It felt… unfamiliar. Not because he doubted his ability, but because he wasn't sure if he should play.
His gaze shifted to Raka, chatting with someone nearby. Then to Tara, who stood with her arms crossed, scanning the field.
"How many kids from our school are here?" Arya asked, eyes still wandering.
Tara shrugged. "No idea. Elite school kids rarely bother coming to places like this."
Reza, stretching his leg, smirked. "Come on, what are you so afraid of?" His gaze locked onto Arya. "You've got nothing to lose."
Arya hesitated. Maybe his father wouldn't find out. But there was still that person.
Before he could think further, an arm suddenly wrapped around his neck.
"What are you thinking about?" Raka grinned. "Just play. I'll keep it a secret." He gave Arya a thumbs-up.
Arya sighed. There was still a way out of this. A way to avoid playing.
He chuckled awkwardly. "I didn't bring my shoes, so I can't play."
Raka's face lit up with a mischievous grin as he pulled something out of his bag—a pair of old futsal shoes Arya hadn't seen in ages.
Arya's eyes widened. "You bastard—where did you get those?! I threw them away ages ago!" His gaze darted between Raka and Tara. "You guys planned this, didn't you? That's why you brought that big backpack?"
Raka smirked. "Come on, man. I just found them outside your house a while back. No idea who threw them away, but I knew they were important, right? Oh, and I also picked up your football cleats."
Arya clenched his jaw, unsure whether to feel grateful or annoyed. He glanced at Tara, who was smiling slightly—a clear sign that this had been their plan all along.
With a scoff, Arya snatched the shoes from Raka's hands, walked over to a nearby bench, and sat down heavily. He didn't say a word as he yanked the laces loose, shoved his feet into the shoes, and started tying them tightly, almost aggressively.
"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath. "You guys are the worst."
Reza chuckled "Don't worry, if we win, I'll treat you."
Finishing the last knot, Arya exhaled and stood up. "Don't expect much. I haven't touched a ball in forever."
Before stepping onto the field, he turned to Raka. "Hey," he said. "Any ideas on how to keep my face hidden? You know my sister has eyes everywhere."
Raka blinked. He knew exactly what Arya meant, but he hesitated. "You sure you wanna cover your face? I have something, but… it's kinda..... ."
"I don't care. Just give it to me. I also don't want the other team to recognize me," Arya said firmly.
Raka grinned, digging into his bag before handing something over.
Minutes later…
Arya stepped onto the field.
Wearing a pink mask over his face.
Silence.
All eyes turned to him.
The supporters whispered among themselves. Players from the opposing team squinted at him in confusion. Even Tara covered her mouth, clearly holding back laughter.
And Raka?
Raka was already dying of laughter behind him. "Pfft—Hahaha! I thought you'd change your mind, but you actually wore it!"
Arya took a deep breath. "Screw you, Raka…"
As Arya and his teammates entered the field, the players from Grand Fortuna High followed closely behind. Even though this was only a friendly match, they looked far more prepared, wearing high-end futsal boots that screamed "pro athletes." In contrast, Arya's teammates, mostly locals from this neighborhood, wore whatever they could find—some even with worn-out sneakers instead of proper futsal shoes.
A referee, who was just a hired official for the match, stepped onto the field and called for the team captains to gather. Meanwhile, the rest of the players, including Arya, started putting on their training bibs to differentiate their teams, as their uniforms varied in color.
Whispers from the crowd still lingered about the ridiculous pink mask Arya was wearing.
"Is that guy seriously gonna play like that?"
"Man, this is hilarious! Who the hell wears a pink mask on the field?"
Arya tried to ignore the murmurs, though he couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed. He adjusted the mask subtly and took a deep breath. It didn't matter. He wasn't here to impress anyone.
Just then, one of Reza's teammates approached him with a friendly smile.
"Hey, Arya! Sorry to trouble you, but I heard you're pretty good. Let's do our best, yeah?"
Arya nodded, offering a polite smile. "Hey… You're, uh, Farhan, right? Let's work together."
With that, the players took their positions.
On the opposing side, some of the Grand Fortuna players chuckled as they eyed Arya's mask.
"What kind of idiot wears a pink mask on the field?" one of them sneered.
Arya didn't react. His gaze, however, landed on one particular player—Gilang. A senior from his middle school, Garuda Jaya Middle School. The same guy who used to bully him at football club.
Gilang stood on the other side, warming up with slow, deliberate stretches, his eyes half-lidded with a cocky smirk. Every movement was theatrical, almost mocking, like a predator toying with its prey.
The sight of Gilang made Arya's fingers twitch.
At that moment, Reza returned from the referee's discussion and clapped his hands.
"We get the first ball!" he announced.
The team nodded in understanding. Arya stepped closer to Reza and whispered something in his ear.
Reza smirked. "Got it. Classic futsal strategy, huh? I see you haven't changed."
He then jogged back to the center circle, positioning himself for the kickoff. Arya moved to the right flank, his body tensed and ready.
The other players took their positions as well, a sense of anticipation thick in the air.
The referee raised his whistle to his lips.
PRIIIIIIIIIT!
The instant the whistle blew, Reza immediately passed the ball sideways to the right—towards Arya.
And then—BOOM!
Arya's left foot struck the ball with immense power.
The shot was a lightning-fast rocket that curved past the defenders and crashed into the back of the net before anyone could even react.
Goal.
The field was momentarily silent.
The Grand Fortuna players froze. The supporters blinked in disbelief.
Then—cheers erupted.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
"That was INSANE!"
"Did he just score right from kick-off?!"
"BROOO, THAT PINK MAN IS INSANE!! IS HE POSSESSED?!?!"
"I don't know who he is, but I think I just became his fan… even though he looks like a bank robber than a baller."
Arya clenched his fists, his body buzzing with adrenaline. He let out a sharp, triumphant yell, his voice echoing across the field.
From the sidelines, Raka burst into laughter and clapped his hands.
His teammates started crowding around him and praising him for his Rocket goal.
Reza jogged up to Arya, shaking his head with amusement.
"You never change, huh? Always so dramatic," he teased.
Arya huffed. "Shut up."
Meanwhile, the Grand Fortuna players finally snapped out of their shock.
One of them, a tall, muscular guy, retrieved the ball from the net and gritted his teeth.
"...Looks like we underestimated them," he muttered.
Gilang rolled his neck, a sly grin forming on his lips.
"Yeah… Let's show them why that was a mistake."
He cracked his knuckles.
The atmosphere suddenly turned serious.