(Bonus Chapter!)
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The referee's whistle echoed through the stadium, cutting through the heavy air of shouts and flashing cell phone cameras.
End of the first half.
The score was completely in favor of the home team; Ichinan: 5 | Minamida: 0.
In addition to the three initial goals, Isagi scored two more by the end of the first half!
The fourth goal came from a high cross, too fast for anyone to control, it seemed lost... until Isagi jumped in mid-air and cushioned the ball with the sole of his foot, as if time had stopped just for him. The ball fell exactly where he wanted, floating inches from the ground. Without even letting it bounce, he finished with a trivela shot using his other leg that traced an impossible curve until it burst into the corner.
The fifth goal, however, was pure art. Receiving an improbable pass, he let the ball run behind his body, spun with an elegant movement, and lifted it with the tip of his foot, all in one motion. The defender in front didn't even understand what had happened, and before he could react, Isagi had already launched into a clean volley, of pure technique. The ball rose in a straight line, then descended like a meteor, hitting the post and dying in the net...
The Ichinan fans were still in ecstasy, cheering as if the game had ended right there. The drums kept beating, the flags waved in a sea of black and white, and Isagi's name echoed repeatedly like a chant.
"ISAGI YOICHI! ISAGI YOICHI! ISAGI YOICHI!"
He walked calmly toward the bench, his shoulders relaxed, his breathing steady. For someone who had just destroyed an entire team in forty-five minutes, he seemed surprisingly calm.
Tada and Shiba came right behind, still laughing and shoving each other, while Takeshi commented loudly: "If it keeps going like this, they'll put Isagi on the news before the game ends!"
Coach Saito waited near the sideline, arms crossed, watching his players return. His gaze lingered on Isagi for a few seconds, a discreet smile escaping before he spoke: "Good work, everyone. But there's still another forty-five minutes. Keep your heads in the game."
"Five to zero and he still says that..." Murmured Haruto, laughing as he threw the towel over his shoulders.
"That's Coach Saito," replied Tada. "If he had his way, he'd have us running until tomorrow."
Isagi sat on the bench, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a sip of water. His gaze, however, wasn't on the field.
He was looking at the stands.
There they were, Marin jumping like a maniac, Kaguya quiet, Yuki smiling, Alya and Masha talking: Each reacting in a different way, but all fixed on him.
He looked away, taking a deep breath.
"I have to sort this out before the Inter High..." He murmured, almost to himself.
Tada heard and raised an eyebrow.
"Sort what out? Ah, after today, you're going to be the most popular guy in school, so is it a doubt about which of the girls will be your girlfriend first?"
Isagi glanced at him sideways, laughing lightly. "Shut up and drink your water, Tada."
"Ah, so it's true!" shouted Shiba, teasing, while the whole group laughed.
The atmosphere was light, almost carefree. An absurd contrast to the other side of the field.
The Minamida team returned downcast, their expressions heavy. Aizawa walked slowly, his shoulders tense, his gaze fixed on the ground. No words, just the muffled sound of cleats dragging on the grass.
Mizoguchi kicked the air in anger. "Five goals... in one half. This is a joke."
Aizawa didn't respond. He just took a deep breath, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice when he said: "It's not over yet."
But everyone knew that, in practice, it already was.
After fifteen minutes of rest, the referee's whistle sounded again, marking the start of the second half.
The sun was already lower, casting a golden light over the field, and the air seemed to vibrate along with the shouts from the stands. The Ichinan crowd still hadn't stopped, Isagi's name continued to be chanted like a mantra, a mix of pride, disbelief, and pure excitement.
The ball was at the center, at Takeshi's feet. He looked to the side and laughed.
"Let's see what the 'demon number 11' is going to pull off now."
Isagi just responded with a calm smile.
"Let's play like always."
The referee blew the whistle, and the ball rolled.
Right from the first touch, Ichinan showed they had no intention of slowing down. Tada received on the right, advanced a few meters, and passed to Haruto, who spun quickly and returned the ball to the middle. All clean, fluid, effortless.
Minamida, on the other hand, seemed hesitant, the players still trying to decide whether to mark Isagi in pairs, in threes, or just pray he didn't touch the ball...
But it didn't help.
Gradually, his movement began to disorganize everything again. One step forward, another back, a slight body feint, and the entire defense was already looking the wrong way.
"Stay on him!" Shouted Aizawa, trying to coordinate the chaos.
The problem was that Isagi was no longer "there." Thanks to his absolute mastery over [Misdirection], his favorite skill so far, he seemed to be everywhere at once. He could manipulate the visual and mental focus of his opponents, completely diverting their attention. On the field, he was like a ghost player: disappearing from markings, appearing in impossible spaces, and stealing the ball before the opponent even realized what had happened.
As he had just done, slipping out of the marking without anyone noticing to receive Takeshi's pass in midfield...
He spun naturally and drew two markers at once. One of them tried to anticipate the move, but Isagi just let him pass, moving the ball with the tip of his foot, as if playing around.
The second came more aggressively, trying to steal with a slide tackle. Isagi stopped the ball, stepped back half a pace, and made the opponent slide across the grass, the kind of play that drew a collective "oooooh" from the stands.
Tada ran down the flank, shouting:
"ISAGI, CROSS!"
But he didn't cross. Nor did he respond.
A light heel touch, and the ball passed between another defender's legs. He advanced without haste, his gaze cold and his body relaxed. Aizawa appeared again, determined, his eyes burning with frustration.
"This time, you won't get past!"
Isagi smiled crookedly.
"You've said that three times, captain."
Aizawa tried to intercept, but Isagi spun his body, making the ball roll behind his own leg in a movement too quick to follow. He came out of the spin already facing the goal, with too much space.
The goalkeeper advanced, arms open, shouting something unintelligible.
Isagi leaned his body, faking a left-footed shot. The goalkeeper fell for the feint. Then, without haste, he just tapped the ball with the inside of his right foot, sending it low to the other corner.
A simple shot. Cruelly simple.
GOOOOOOOOOL!
The stadium exploded once more.
A wave of pure ecstasy that seemed to come from the ground, the stands, from every throat in unison. Flags fluttered frantically, drums beat without a defined rhythm, and cell phones flashed like a sea of artificial stars trying to capture that instant.
"ISAGI YOICHI! ISAGI YOICHI! ISAGI YOICHI!"
A sound that vibrated in the stands, cutting through the wind and resonating inside the Ichinan players like an electric shock.
Tada and Shiba ran to Isagi, the first jumping on his back, the second shouting:
"You're a monster, man! HOW DO WE PLAY WITH A GUY LIKE THIS?!"
Isagi just laughed, raised one hand to the fans, and waved casually, doing nothing more.
When the game restarted, Minamida no longer had spirit or anger. There was only the mechanical instinct to keep playing and the suspicion that, at any moment, Isagi would appear where he shouldn't.
But this time, he was in defense.
Catching his breath, the "Unstoppable Striker" had dropped back, positioning himself closer to the backline.
The opposing captain, Aizawa, tried to command an advance.
"Come on! Take advantage while he's back!"
But the phrase had barely left his mouth, and Isagi was already moving.
The ball, which was circulating among Minamida's midfielders, was intercepted before it even crossed the halfway line. Isagi anticipated with an absurd read, cutting the pass with his extended foot, as if he had predicted the path milliseconds earlier. He then passed to Tada, who broke forward with the rest of the team.
Ichinan continued to suffocate the opponent, and even with the already crushing score, their intensity didn't decrease—or rather, his intensity didn't decrease.
Isagi dropped back, advanced, appeared in midfield, on the wing, in defense. Every touch on the ball seemed to dictate the entire game's rhythm. When Minamida tried to counterattack, he was already there, appearing out of nowhere, intercepting with a light touch, an impeccable read, and returning the game to the home team's control.
In one of those plays, Aizawa received a pass and spun quickly, thinking he had space, but he didn't. Isagi appeared from behind, cleanly, stealing the ball with a sharp and elegant movement, almost silent. One touch, and it was already at Haruto's feet.
"Go, finish it!" shouted Isagi.
Haruto carried it and shot...
The ball rose, rose, and ended up almost in the stands.
Tada put his hands to his head.
"MY GOD, HARUTO! What a ridiculous shot that was?!"
Isagi sighed, hands on his hips. "I can't believe it..."
Minutes later, Shiba received a sweet pass from him right in front of the goal. Alone. No marker.
He shot straight into the goalkeeper's hands.
The crowd groaned loudly, the stadium let out a collective "aaaaah," one of those that hurt the soul.
Isagi ran a hand over his face and laughed, incredulous. "Is this for real?..."
"It was bad luck!" Shouted Shiba, trying to justify himself.
"It was lack of technique, really," murmured Tada, laughing.
Another counterattack, another perfect pass from Isagi, now to Takeshi, who dribbled the goalkeeper and lost his balance in front of the empty goal, missing the goal in a pretty stupid way!
The entire stand held back laughter.
Isagi crossed his arms and looked at the sky, exhaling a resigned sigh.
"Sae would say even a monkey could score that goal... I can sympathize with him now..."
Even so, he kept playing, without complaining, just managing the field like a maestro tired of a out-of-tune orchestra.
With every ball recovery, he cleaned up the play and distributed surgical passes, and with every wasted chance, he just breathed deeply and returned to defense.
The truth was that if it weren't for Isagi, the game would have taken a completely different turn. The reality is that Ichinan, on its own, was a mediocre team in every sense. No player had above-average technique, impressive speed, or standout game vision. The team was made up of hardworking athletes, but limited ones, the kind of team that relied more on collectivity and luck than on pure talent.
Without Isagi on the field, ball possession would be easily controlled by Minamida, whose tactical structure and physical preparation were superior. They had more agile midfielders, fullbacks with good game reading, and an attack capable of exploiting spaces efficiently. Under normal conditions, Ichinan would be crushed in a few minutes, with no chance to balance the score.
Isagi, however, completely altered that equation. He was the team's center of gravity, the point of balance and destabilization at the same time. His game reading allowed him to predict every opposing movement, and his precise passes masked his teammates' technical flaws. Besides being practically the perfect striker...
Thanks to him, Ichinan not only stayed alive but dominated. Every play began and ended under his direct influence. He dictated the flow of the match, turning an ordinary team into an offensive machine. The lopsided score didn't reflect the team's real level, but rather the impact of a single player who, alone, had elevated an entire school's soccer to a level unattainable for the others.
In essence, what the public saw wasn't Ichinan's power, but the individual phenomenon of Isagi Yoichi, a player so exceptional that he made a mediocre team seem invincible.
And this proved true once again at the end of the second half.
Ten minutes left.
The crowd was already singing in celebration rhythm, flags waving, his name still echoing from all sides.
That's when Ichinan won a corner on the right.
Tada placed the ball on the ground, ready to take it, but Coach Saito shouted from the bench: "Let Isagi take it!"
The crowd reacted instantly, shouts, applause, even fireworks exploded outside the stadium.
Isagi walked to the corner with calm steps.
He looked at the goal, measured the angle, and without saying anything, decided to test something bold.
In the last game against the Generation of Miracles, he had learned something from Aomine, the legendary [Formless Shot]. Although the Generation of Miracles' scorer hadn't scored many points against him, just by observing, he managed to understand the essence of the technique.
The [Formless Shot] allowed scoring from practically any position and anywhere on the court, even from the most improbable angles; like from behind the backboard itself.
In soccer, replicating something like Aomine's [Formless Shot] is practically impossible. Basketball, as dynamic and unpredictable as it is, still offers the player direct control of the ball with their hands, constant contact that allows instant adjustments, precision of touch, and total dominance over the movement. In soccer, however, that same control is limited, fragmented into milliseconds between passes, dribbles, and shots.
But he understood that the secret wasn't just in the technique, but in the freedom of movement, in the ability to break patterns and act instinctively, without depending on perfect form. Aomine's [Formless Shot] represented exactly that: the denial of predictability, the ability to turn any position into a scoring opportunity.
However, transferring this concept to soccer was a challenge on another level. In basketball, the body is always balanced, and the ball responds directly to the force and angle of the hands. In soccer, any similar attempt involves much more chaotic variables: the ball's weight, the grass, the wind, the body's positioning, and the constant interference from opponents...
Still, he felt he met all the requirements to wield that "weapon."
It wasn't like he could score a goal from midfield yet, but inside the penalty area, and even a bit beyond it, there was no position from which he couldn't finish.
No angle seemed impossible.
In fact, this feeling wasn't new. From the start of the match, he had been applying Aomine's philosophy to soccer, adapting the "formless shot" into something he called formless shot: a fluid style, without technical rigidity, where every movement could become a finish. Any position, any instant, any imbalance, everything could be turned into a goal. Even from behind, in motion, or with his body almost parallel to the ground, he found a way to hit the target.
Proof of that was his first goal in the match, when he used an opponent's back as support before concluding the play perfectly.
But back to that moment of kicking the ball from the corner, he delivered a shot that seemed like a guided missile.
The ball rose in a curve, gaining speed as it drew a perfect parabola, cutting through the air.
The goalkeeper took a step forward, then back, too late.
The ball went straight into the corner, kissing the net perfectly.
For a second, the students fell silent before becoming even more enthusiastic.
The stands seemed on the verge of collapse from so much emotion. Flags waved as if they wanted to fly, and the Ichinan crowd's shout resounded with the force of thunder:
"ISAGI YOICHI! ISAGI YOICHI! ISAGI YOICHI!"
Isagi, with relaxed shoulders and a light smile on his face, just looked at the goal. Tada and Shiba ran to him, jumping and shouting in excitement, but the number eleven striker just raised his hand in a casual wave, without losing his composure.
Minamida still tried to react, but every advance was immediately neutralized. Isagi seemed to be everywhere: in defense, in midfield, in attack. Every step of his drew the attention of two or three opponents, opening space for his teammates. The ball rarely touched the ground when he was nearby, and every pass he received seemed to create an imminent goal opportunity.
Seven minutes from the end, Tada received a lateral pass and advanced, but Isagi was already anticipating the defense's movements. With a quick touch, he evaded two markers and launched Haruto toward the goal. The striker tried the finish, but missed by a little. A murmur of frustration ran through the stands, and Isagi just sighed, arms crossed.
Minutes later, Shiba received another sweet pass from Isagi. This time, he struck hard, but the goalkeeper made a miraculous save, drawing applause and sighs from the crowd.
In the last five minutes, the Ichinan team began to manage possession, maintaining total control. Short passes, constant movement, but without haste. Minamida tried to attack, but seemed increasingly desperate, their confidence crumbled by Isagi's and the opposing team's absolute dominance.
In the final three minutes, Aizawa tried one more attack, but the pass was intercepted by Isagi himself, who quickly returned the ball to Tada, keeping the pressure until the last second.
There were no more clear goal chances for Minamida.
The referee looked at his watch, and when the hand marked zero, he blew hard, ending the match.
The final score?
Ichinan 7 | Minamida 0.
The stands exploded in celebration.
The game had finally come to an end!
And the victory obviously belonged to Ichinan.
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