The morning sun stretched long shadows over the academy courtyard, bathing the place in a warm glow that felt almost cruel to Noah Carter. This had been home for months—the training fields where he had broken down his safe habits one drill at a time, the locker rooms filled with laughter, arguments, and moments of quiet resolve, and the cafeteria where half the team's ridiculous debates had taken place. He had arrived as a timid boy afraid to take risks, and now, he was leaving as a player Ajax wanted. The thought should have filled him with pride, yet it only made his chest heavier.
Coach Harper had gathered the entire team early, the first and last time Noah had seen them all this quiet. The locker room was full, every player standing, some leaning against lockers, others holding their gear awkwardly as if none of them quite knew how to say goodbye. Harper stood at the front, his usual strict demeanor softened, though the authority in his voice remained. "Carter's leaving us. Ajax saw what we've seen here every day—that this kid grew beyond what he thought he could be. You've earned this, Noah. Don't ever let fear stop you again." His eyes softened just enough to show the pride underneath.
Noah, hands stuffed in his pockets, felt dozens of eyes on him. A few months ago, he would have shrunk under that kind of attention, would have stared at his shoes and muttered something safe just to get it over with. But today, even if his voice trembled, he forced himself to meet their gazes. "I don't… really know what to say. When I came here, I didn't want to stand out. I just wanted to play it safe and hope no one noticed if I messed up. But you guys—every one of you—you pushed me. You made me better. So… thank you. All of you."
Leo, leaning against a locker with his usual easy grin, stepped forward and gave Noah a quick hug before grinning wider. "Don't get all dramatic, Maestro. You're not retiring. You're just upgrading your kit. Just don't forget to mention me when they ask who taught you to actually pass forward." That drew a round of laughter from the room, and even Riku cracked a smirk, his eyes sharp as ever but tinged with something softer. "Ajax, huh? You better make this count, Carter. Next time we meet on the pitch, I expect a fight."
"Wouldn't want you to go easy on me anyway," Noah replied, smiling despite the lump in his throat.
By the time he left the academy gates for the last time, the memories weighed heavier than the bag slung over his shoulder. He remembered his first week here—keeping his head down, avoiding eye contact, choosing the safest passes he could make so no one would yell. He remembered the first time Harper chewed him out for not taking responsibility, the first moment Leo called him "Maestro" as a joke, and how Riku's sharp criticisms had slowly turned into grudging respect. He remembered the tournament final, that one perfect orchestrated play that felt like it defined him. He wasn't just leaving a building or a team. He was leaving behind the boy who had once been too scared to stand on the ball and dictate a game.
He took the train home for one last visit, and his parents were already waiting at the station. His mother wrapped him in a hug so tight it stole his breath, her face buried in his shoulder as if she could keep him here by holding on long enough. "You've grown so much," she whispered, pulling back to look at him, tears threatening the corners of her eyes. "You came here months ago doubting yourself… and now look at you. You're not running away from life anymore, Noah. You're chasing it."
He smiled faintly, hugging her again. "I'm still scared, Mom."
"That means you care," she replied gently. "That means you're doing the right thing."
His father stepped forward, gripping his shoulder firmly with the kind of quiet pride that needed no explanation. "I'm proud of you, son. You're taking a step most people are too scared to even think about. Don't look back and wonder 'what if.'"
Noah swallowed hard and nodded, his voice barely audible. "I'm going to miss you guys."
"You'll miss a lot of things," his father said, his voice warm and steady, "but that's how you grow. Every step forward means leaving something behind. That's life, Noah. But we'll always be your home, no matter where you go."
Later that afternoon, back at the train station where he would officially leave, Leo and Riku were waiting along with Harper. Leo looked oddly serious for once, but it only lasted a moment before he nudged Noah with an elbow. "We'll see each other again soon. And when we do, I'm taking you down. No mercy."
Riku stood quietly at first, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground, then looked up with that same calm sharpness he always had. "You were scared when we met, Carter. Scared to make mistakes, scared to be seen. Now look at you. Ajax wanted you because you stopped hiding. Don't you dare start hiding again over there. And if you do, I'll know, because I'll be the one crushing you the next time we're opponents."
Noah smiled weakly, his throat tightening. "Guess I don't have a choice but to get better then, huh?"
"Exactly," Riku said, though a rare hint of a smile tugged at his lips.
Coach Harper stepped forward, his hand landing firmly on Noah's shoulder. "You've come a long way from that kid who only passed safe and hoped nobody noticed. This isn't goodbye—it's just the next step. Keep growing. Don't let fear slow you down again."
As the train pulled into the station, Noah looked at all of them—his family, his teammates, his coach—and for the first time, the fear he carried felt different. It wasn't the kind that paralyzed him. It was the kind that reminded him he cared, that he was leaving something worth missing behind. He stepped onto the train, found a window seat, and as the platform began to slide out of view, memories flooded in—the laughter after brutal training sessions, the first time Harper praised him, the way Leo's nickname "Maestro" had gone from a joke to a badge of honor, the way Riku pushed him until he broke through his own limits.
He exhaled deeply, watching their figures shrink in the distance, and for the first time, he smiled without hesitation. He was leaving comfort behind, yes, but he was also leaving behind the boy who had clung to it. Ajax wasn't just an opportunity. It was his chance to become everything he had been too scared to dream about.