The sky was already painted in hues of indigo and silver. But at the far corner of the practice field, one solitary floodlight remained lit.
There, drenched in sweat and focus, was Masaki Renjirou.
He wasn't just shooting randomly. No — every movement was intentional.
Cones were set up at tight angles, creating small, suffocating corridors. Masaki sprinted in and out of them while juggling the ball, occasionally stopping to deliver pinpoint low-driven shots into narrow goals placed at odd angles — simulating tight-match situations.
"Too heavy," he muttered after a cross from his left foot missed the top corner by an inch. He adjusted the angle, replaying the shot in his head like a chess master analyzing his blunder.
Then again — thwack!
This time, the ball curled sharply, grazing the post before sinking into the net.
Better.
Next, he placed the ball at midfield. No cones this time — just pure imagination. Masaki closed his eyes. Sweat dripped from his chin.
He envisioned pressure.
A 1v2 situation against elite defenders. He imagined their weight shifts, their blind spots, their poor positioning.
And then — he danced.
A sudden feint. A cut to the left. Spin. A fake pass. Burst of acceleration.
Another shot. Boom.
Straight into the top right.
"Again," he whispered to himself, not satisfied. "No wasted motion. No hesitation."
He took a breath, calming his mind.
From the edge of the field, a small figure peeked out from behind the goalpost.
"Done yet, Nii-chan?"
Masaki turned to see his little sister, Nana, sitting cross-legged on the grass, hugging her knees. Her big, curious eyes sparkled under the sun, and her cheeks puffed in a playful pout.
"How long have you been watching?" Masaki asked with a smile, walking toward her.
"Since your third shot!" she grinned. "You keep kicking so hard. Are you trying to break the net?"
Masaki laughed, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "I'm training, remember? Gotta stay ahead of the others."
"But I waited a whole hour," she whined, standing up and holding out her pinky. "You promised ice cream after practice, remember?"
He blinked, then sighed dramatically. "So, that's why you've been so patient…"
She nodded proudly. "A promise is a promise!"
Masaki knelt down. "Alright, alright. Let's go, Princess."
He scooped her onto his back, and she giggled with delight.
As they walked home under the golden hue of the setting sun, Nana leaned her chin on his shoulder and whispered, "You're amazing, Nii-chan. One day, I wanna be just like you."
His heart softened at her words.
"You'll be someone even greater, Nana."
And with that, their laughter echoed down the quiet street.
⸻
At Home
"We're home!" they called out in unison as the front door opened.
"Welcome back! Go clean yourselves up before dinner," their mother's voice rang from the kitchen, the scent of simmering miso soup filling the air.
"Hai~!" Nana chirped as she kicked off her shoes and darted toward the bathroom.
Masaki followed behind, smiling to himself.
Later, the family gathered around the table, the soft hum of the evening news in the background and the warmth of dinner drawing them close.
Their father took a sip of tea and glanced toward his eldest. "Masaki, have you decided which high school you want to go to?"
Masaki paused between bites. "Yeah. Seikan High."
His father raised a brow. "That's the nearby one, right? What about those pro offers you got?"
"There were a lot of them," Masaki admitted. "Even one from a german league"
"And you turned them all down?"
Masaki gave a calm nod. "Seikan's close to home. Taira's going there too. Besides…"
He looked toward Nana, who was quietly munching on her rice.
"I want to stay with my family for now."
His father gave a small nod of approval. "Do what makes you happy."
Masaki smiled faintly, the weight of another thought behind his calm eyes.
"It's already been fifteen years… since I reincarnated."
⸻
FLASHBACK
At one year old, Masaki could already speak in full sentences and walk with uncanny balance. His parents were dumbfounded.
By age four, while most kids were watching cartoons, Masaki was glued to football matches. Not for the drama or commentary but for the positioning, the tactics, the elegance of movement.
He didn't watch to be entertained.
He watched to learn.
His father, noticing the obsession, enrolled him in a local youth football camp. The coaches expected a shy, awkward child.
What they got instead was a phenomenon.
At five years old, Masaki danced past kids twice his size, his ball control flawless, his spatial awareness unnatural. He moved with the calm and control of someone who had been playing for decades.
Yet, something changed that year.
He became a big brother.
Nana was born.
The moment he held her tiny hand for the first time, something inside him shifted.
Football was his dream.
But she was his purpose.
⸻
Elementary School
Masaki grew into a legend in his district.
On the pitch, he was unstoppable—playing a style far too advanced for his age group. He orchestrated attacks, defended when needed, and always make the pass no one else can did.
The media dubbed him: "Once in lifetime Genius."
But he wasn't alone.
In his final year of elementary school, he met Genichiro Taira, a sharp-eyed, laid-back midfielder with a genius for long passes and rhythm control.
They clicked instantly.
By age 12, he were called up to the Japan U-12 national team. There, Masaki encountered his first true rival: Ryousuke Ikariya—a left-footed forward whose ball control, power, and acceleration bordered on unnatural.
Fiery and instinctive, Ryousuke was the perfect foil to Masaki's cool and calculated presence.
Together, they tore through international youth defenses, scoring and assisting with precision and flair. Their combination became so feared that international coaches began crafting entire formations just to counter them.
⸻
Middle School
At 14, Masaki stood among giants—selected for the Japan U-16 squad.
By 15, he captained the U-17 national team.
Under his leadership, Japan made it to the AFC U-17 Asian Cup finals, qualifying for the FIFA U-17 World Cup.
They shocked the world, placing third—a record high for Japan.
Analysts began calling him "The Genius", while European scouts dubbed him "Football's Treasure."
"He moves like the ball is part of his body."
But Masaki stayed grounded.
He knew something the world didn't.
He hadn't reached his peak.
Not yet.
⸻
Back to the Present
Morning light spilled into Masaki's room as he adjusted his Seikan High uniform. His bag slung over one shoulder, boots in hand.
Outside, Taira leaned lazily on his bike. "Oi! You always take forever, Masaki."
Masaki smirked. "Beauty takes time."
"Right, right. Whatever."
As the two set off, a familiar voice called out behind them.
"Have a good day, Nii-chan! Taira-san!"
Masaki turned and saw Nana waving from the porch, wearing her school uniform and a bright smile.
He waved back. "You too, Princess!"
She giggled, then turned and ran toward her friends.
Taira glanced at Masaki. "You spoil her, you know."
"She deserves it."
They walked on in silence for a moment.
The sun rose above the rooftops.
Masaki looked toward the sky.
This life… this chance…
I won't waste it.
Not this time.