5:30 AM. The facility was empty except for Takeshi, who'd decided that if he was going to come back, he couldn't wait for official practice to start. His body needed a head start.
Three laps around the field and he was already broken.
I used to run twenty miles before breakfast.
He collapsed on the grass, gasping like a fish pulled from water. His stomach was doing flip-flops. Everything hurt. D-rank fitness wasn't just a number—it was a sentence. Three years of sitting at home had destroyed everything his eight-year-old self had built.
He vomited into the grass. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
"Figured you'd be here."
Takeshi's head snapped up. Sato stood at the edge of the field, already in training gear, water bottle in hand. How long had he been watching?
"You always were an idiot about training."
Sato helped him up, not judging, just... matter-of-fact. Like this was what they did. Like Takeshi hadn't disappeared for three years.
They ran together. But now Sato easily outpaced him, and Takeshi had to grit his teeth watching his best friend's smooth strides. When did Sato become better than me? The answer was obvious. While Takeshi quit, Sato never stopped.
Days 2 through 6 blurred together.
Every morning: 5:30 AM. Takeshi and Sato alone at the facility before the sun rose. Running, fitness drills, ball work. Takeshi improving incrementally. D-rank to D-plus. His body was screaming, muscles torn from overuse after years of atrophy, but he kept pushing.
Then official practice at 4 PM. Same brutal reality.
He was still the worst player. Always behind, always last. Ryo pushed him hardest, clearly testing if he'd quit again.
"If you can't keep up, get off my field," the captain said more than once.
Kenji and Yuta were still cold, but Takeshi noticed them watching during the early morning sessions. They weren't warming up, exactly, but they weren't hostile either. Just... observing.
Day 4, during morning run.
Flashback hit him like a truck.
Real Madrid's card. The 72-hour deadline. Him sitting frozen in his room, unable to choose. His parents' exhausted faces on video call: "Grandmother has six months without treatment."
"Real Madrid will pay for everything."
Him unable to move. Unable to sign. Unable to say no.
Grandmother in the hospital bed three months later. Dying because he was too scared to choose.
His complete breakdown at thirteen. System going silent. Three years of nothing.
Sato grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-stride.
"You okay? You seem... somewhere else."
"Just remembering."
"Remembering what?"
Takeshi kept running, chest heaving. "Why I quit. Why I ran."
Sato matched his pace, waiting.
"My grandmother died because I was a coward."
The words just came out. Not the full story, but enough.
"Real Madrid wanted me. Money could've saved her. I couldn't handle the pressure. Froze. She died. I quit everything."
Sato didn't respond immediately. Just ran beside him.
Finally: "That's... heavy, man."
"But you're here now."
"Doesn't change the past."
"No. But you can change the future."
Day 6, during official practice.
Ryo pulled him aside after watching him vomit quietly behind the bleachers.
"Yamamoto, center."
Put him in the starting drill position. Not bench, but active participation. Small recognition. But it meant something.
The system chimed:
[DAILY PROGRESS]
Day 1: Fitness D → Pathetic
Day 2: Fitness D → Slightly less pathetic
Day 3: Fitness D+ → Surviving
Day 4: Fitness D+ → Muscle memory returning
Day 5: Fitness C- → Basic functionality restored
Day 6: Fitness C- → Ready for test
Dribbling: C- → C
Passing: C → C+
Stamina: Improving daily
Mental State: Determined
Note: Host training harder than necessary
Recommended: Rest day
Host Response: Ignored
System: Sigh At least you're trying now
Day 7 morning.
After early training, Coach Tanaka gathered the team. His expression was serious in a way it hadn't been before.
"Practice match today. Against the U15 team."
Team groaning.
"They're cocky little bastards who need humbling. And you need to remember how to win. Zero wins all season. This changes today."
The U15 team arrived cocky. They'd heard about the "failed prodigy" joining Tokyo FC. Fifteen-year-olds who thought beating older kids would be easy.
"Isn't that the guy who quit?"
"Bet he's still useless."
Takeshi stayed on the bench. Hadn't earned a start yet.
First half was embarrassing. U18 team struggling, communication broken, morale low. U15 kids playing with energy that only comes from youth and confidence. 0-2 at halftime. Losing to children.
Ryo slammed his locker in the halftime locker room.
"We're losing to children!"
Coach Tanaka just looked at Takeshi.
"You're going in. Second half. 30 minutes. Show me those early mornings meant something."
Sato put his hand on Takeshi's shoulder.
"I'll feed you. Just be ready. Like old times."
Second half began.
Takeshi entered the field with legs shaking. Not from fitness anymore, but from nerves. His adult mind screamed: I've played in front of thousands. Why am I scared?
Because this matters. First real match in three years. First step back.
His first touch was heavy. Passes slightly off. Positioning good (adult mind sharp) but execution poor (rusty body). U15 kids targeted him immediately. Stealing the ball twice in the first ten minutes.
Teammates frustrated.
"Come on, Yamamoto!"
But then Ryo scored. Header. 1-2. Momentum shifting.
Sato got the ball in midfield. Looking for Takeshi. Through ball into space.
Takeshi running. Ball bouncing awkwardly. Two U15 defenders closing. No time to think.
Adult instincts screamed.
TIME RELAY flickered.
Not activating fully, just... stuttering. 0.5 seconds of slowed perception. Enough to see the gap.
Touch redirecting the ball between defenders. Burst of speed. Through!
One-on-one with the goalkeeper.
Adult mind calculating angles. Body responding barely. Shot to the low corner.
Keeper diving.
Ball deflecting to Sato.
Sato tapping into the empty net.
2-2.
Sato immediately pointed at him. "That was all him!"
Running to celebrate. Other teammates joining. Even Ryo: "Nice play, Yamamoto."
First acknowledgment.
Kenji from goal: "Do that more often!"
Even Yuta nodding.
Final fifteen minutes: Takeshi exhausted (C-minus stamina gone) but team energized. Playing with hope for first time. Match ended 2-2.
Not a win. But first non-loss in nine matches.
Team actually smiling.
Locker room felt different.
Ryo: "Still bench for league matches. But... you're getting there."
Kenji: "That turn was clean."
Yuta: "Not completely useless after all."
Sato arm around him: "Told you. Like old times."
That night, Takeshi was icing his legs when his phone buzzed.
Video call: Elsa.
He hadn't talked to her in eight months. Hesitated, then answered.
"TAKESHI!"
She was smiling. Genuine happiness. Norwegian blonde hair, sharp eyes. Like no time had passed.
"You actually answered!"
Him: "Sorry. I've been... dealing with things."
Her: "I heard. Akari told me. You rejoined Tokyo FC?"
"Yeah. Last place team. Perfect fit for me right now."
They talked about her Norway U17 training. The pressure. The joy of it. She was thriving. "Sometimes I remember Ajax. Us six. Feels like a different lifetime."
Then: "How are you really, Takeshi?"
He told her. Not all of it, but enough. Grandmother. Guilt. Quitting. Coming back. Daichi match in fourteen days.
She listened, face serious. "You know what I think? I think you're finally fighting again. Took you long enough."
Oliver's face appeared on screen.
"No way. Takeshi actually exists?"
Awkward laugh. "Hey, Oliver."
"Dude, Arsenal's been crazy. But that's not important. Elsa told me about your match. Against Daichi? That Daichi?"
Oliver showed his phone. Daichi's Instagram. 10-game win streak. Hat tricks. Scouts everywhere. Everyone saying he's future national team.
Latest post: "Can't wait for the easy win against Tokyo FC 😎"
Takeshi's blood ran cold.
"He said that?"
"Yeah. He knows you're back."
Elsa added him to the old Ajax group chat.
Marcus: "THE DEMON RETURNS!"
Kwame: "About time, Yamamoto"
Isabella: "We thought you died!"
All six from Ajax. Everyone knew now.
Marcus's message hit hard: "Beat him. Please. We heard he's been talking trash. Saying Ajax kids weren't that special. Show him what the demon can do."
Pressure mounting. But also... support. They believed in him.
Elsa's private message came after: "I know you're scared. I know 14 days isn't enough. But Takeshi... we didn't call you demon for nothing. Remember who you were at 8. Find him again. We'll all be watching."
That night, alone in his room.
Everyone was watching now. Elsa, Oliver, Marcus, Kwame, Isabella. Sato and Tokyo FC. Daichi waiting to prove he was better. System counting down.
The system chimed:
[SUPPORT NETWORK: ACTIVATED]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Ajax Six: Watching
Best Friend: Supporting
Team: Starting to Believe
Rival: Waiting
New Pressure Unlocked: Global Audience
New Support Unlocked: Found Family
Special Training Regimen Available
Accept Advanced Hell Mode?
Reward: Faster improvement
Cost: Literal hell
14 Days Remaining
Daichi's Team: 11-0 Record
Your Team: 0-2-9 Record (one draw added)
The Gap: Still enormous
But you took first step.
Now take the rest.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Takeshi opened his messages. Group chat still active. Messages of support. Old photo from Ajax. Six kids who believed they'd be great together.
Daichi's Instagram still open. That confident smirk.
Fourteen days.
He texted Sato: "Extra training tomorrow morning?"
Immediate response: "5 AM. Bring your suffering."
"Always do."
"Good. We're going to need it."
"Think we can actually beat them?"
Long pause. Then:
"No. But we'll make them remember us."