A boy walked through the busy streets of Tokyo. His shirt was torn at the sleeves, and his bare feet squished against the grimy asphalt. He didn't own sandals. He had never known the warmth of family parents, home, love and he had long stopped expecting it. His life was empty, routine, cold. But today… today would change everything.
His name was Senjetsu Moichirō, eight years old, small for his age, and alone in the world. He avoided people as a matter of habit, never wanting to be noticed, never daring to speak. Yet as he rounded a corner, he noticed a crowd gathering in front of a small store. Normally, he would have walked past. But something tugged at him curiosity, fragile and unexpected.
"What's happening here? Is something wrong?" he muttered under his breath.
He edged closer and saw a television mounted on the wall. People were glued to it. The sound reached him first:
"FRANCE IS LEADING! GOAL! THIS IS IT! FRANCE IS GOING TO WIN THE 2018 WORLD CUP!"
The voices, the energy, the thrill it consumed him. His small chest rose and fell as if he were breathing fire.
"Amazing… they're playing… I want to be like them."
Nearby, someone scoffed:
"France is better than Croatia. It's obvious."
"I-is that… football?" Moichirō whispered, awe in his voice. "Wow… it's amazing."
For the first time, his eyes sparkled like stars. He turned and ran, heart pounding, but halfway home, reality hit him like a wall.
"I can't… I can't become like them. I don't have money. I don't have clothes. If I ask my aunt for anything… she'll kill me."
He thought of other kids, of friends, of fathers and mothers:
"Dad… look at these boots! Mom bought them for me! I'm going to become like Cristiano Ronaldo! I'll play with Dad's club please, Dad!"
He clenched his fists. Tears blurred his vision.
"They have everything… I have nothing."
Moichirō pushed open the door to his small room or, more accurately, a storage space crammed with old furniture and dust. Sounds came from the next room, strange and unsettling, but he ignored them. Soon, two people emerged: a woman and a man. The woman was his aunt. The man… he didn't know.
"Come back anytime. It's only ten thousand yen per hour," the woman cooed to the man. "We can do five hours… come on, darling."
The man shook his head politely. "Sorry, my wife was calling. I'll come back tomorrow."
They kissed, and he flinched, hiding in the corner.
"Moichirō? Are you there?" his aunt called.
He revealed himself, trembling.
"Oh, my little kid… I got the money. What do you want? I'll buy you anything."
A glimmer of hope shot through him.
"Aunt… I want a pair of boots. I want to play football."
Her face twisted into anger.
"What football? Who do you think you are? You don't have parents, your grandparents were the reason I took you in… and now you ask me for boots? You won't eat until tomorrow."
"Sorry… sorry… please, don't hurt me…" he whimpered, curling into himself.
Her voice softened briefly, then hardened again.
"The neighbor bought a new necklace and ring. Go steal it. Give it to me. If you do, maybe I'll buy you boots."
Hope and despair collided in his chest. He could finally play football. Pain, hunger, fear it didn't matter. He nodded.
The next day, he wore a clean shirt and crept to the neighbor's house. His hands shook as he snatched the necklace and ring and ran back.
"Aunt… I got it. This is what you wanted!"
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the room. Police.
"Mrs. Ren? The neighbor reported a stolen necklace," one officer said. "The child was seen running."
Her tears were instantaneous, perfectly timed.
"Why, Moichirō? You stole? I have money… why? I never want to see you again!"
The officers looked at him. She backed away.
"Take the child. I don't want to see him again."
And just like that, Moichirō's life, already broken, took its first step into a world that would never be gentle.
Seven years later.
The air buzzed with excitement. A massive crowd had gathered around the field — it was the Nagoya Blades Youth Academy Trial Day, one of the biggest events in Japan's football scene.
Players from every corner of the country had come — Tokyo, Ehime, Nagoya, Osaka — all chasing the same dream: to join one of the best academies in the J1 League.
"Come on, come on! The trial's starting! Look over there — that's Ouro High School's right winger, Kenechi Rintarō, the U18 national player! He's so cool!"
> Kenechi Rintarō
Age: 16
From: Yokohama
Position: Right Winger (Japan U18 National Team)
Girls in the crowd whispered excitedly.
"Rintarō's so cool! I want to be his girlfriend!"
"No way, I bet he already has one. But look — who's that next to him?"
A man standing nearby answered with pride.
"That's Hari Sarutobi, a defender from Fujin Academy High School. He's also the captain of Japan's U17 National Team."
> Hari Sarutobi
Age: 16
From: Kyoto
Position: Defender / Playmaker (Japan U17 Captain)
"I can't believe it," someone muttered. "This year's trial is insane. The Nagoya Blades are going to get monsters."
---
Nagoya Blades Youth Academy
J1 League's top club
Three consecutive-time champions
Known for producing Japan's brightest young stars
---
"Wait, look over there," another spectator whispered. "Isn't that kid from Sendai Cranes?"
"No way. Sendai won the Premier Youth League last year! Why would one of their players be here?"
> Gilbert Ayako
Age: 16
From: Sendai (Tohoku)
Position: Striker
The crowd's cheers grew louder as a tall foreign-looking boy stretched his legs near the sideline.
Moments later, a whistle blew. A tall man with sharp eyes and a clean white tracksuit walked onto the field. The murmurs stopped.
"That's Coach Elstein, the head coach of Nagoya Blades Youth. They say he's the best in Japan."
He raised his hand.
"Alright, everyone! Thank you for coming today. This is the selection trial for the academy. Only a few will make it. Play your best — show us what you've got!"
---
Players began splitting into teams.
"Hey, look at that lineup! Kenechi, Sarutobi, Gilbert — all on the same team! That's basically the dream team!"
"Yeah, but who's that other kid with them? Never seen him before."
---
The players gathered on the field.
"Long time no see, Kenechi," Sarutobi said with a grin. "After the Nationals, huh?"
"Yeah. If we're on the same team, this game's already ours," Kenechi replied confidently.
He glanced toward the quiet boy standing behind them — a boy with red hair and a serious face.
"Hey, who's that? He doesn't look like he belongs here."
"I don't know," Sarutobi muttered. "Never seen him before."
Kenechi smirked and stepped forward.
"Hey, kid. What's your name?"
"Senjetsu Moichirō," the boy said quietly. "From Tokyo. Position: Midfielder."
Kenechi scoffed. "Midfielder? This isn't a playground. You sure you can play football?"
Moichirō raised his head, eyes burning.
"Yeah. And I know who you are — U18 winger Kenechi Rintarō. But I didn't come here to see you. I came here to become a pro. So don't give me your crap. If you want to ignore me, fine. If you want a fight, I'm ready."
"What did you say, you—!" Kenechi started forward, anger flaring.
Sarutobi quickly grabbed his arm.
"Hey, calm down, Kenechi! He's just a kid."
Then he turned to Moichirō. "Sorry about him. He's been like this since we were little. I'm—"
"Hari Sarutobi," Moichirō interrupted. "U17 Japan captain. I know."
Sarutobi blinked, then chuckled. "Guess that makes things easier. Let's just focus on the match."
The sharp voice of Coach Elstein cut through the air.
"Hey! What are you kids doing? If you're not ready, get off the field!"
The whistle blew.
Piiiii!
The match began.
Moichirō's eyes narrowed.
"This is my last chance. After everything I went through, I have no other path. I will become a pro — and I'll defeat all of them."
The tension on the field exploded as the ball rolled, the crowd roaring.
The battle for a spot in Nagoya Blades Youth Academy had begun.
Somewhere beyond mortal comprehension…
A palace floated in a sea of light — endless skies, shifting clouds of gold, and the hum of divine energy. Countless celestial beings knelt as two radiant figures faced each other in the Hall of Eternity.
A woman cloaked in white flames turned sharply, her voice echoing like thunder.
> "Taishara… what did you just say?"
Across from her stood a tall figure, his body shadowed in black and blue divine energy — God Taishara, the Keeper of Balance and Shadow.
He slowly opened his glowing silver eyes.
> "I said... I have found my successor."
The hall fell silent. Even the winds seemed to hold their breath.
Another god, robed in azure mist, stepped forward, disbelief on his face.
> "Impossible. No mortal can withstand your power. Your essence destroys everything it touches."
Taishara raised a hand, and the stars above dimmed slightly.
> "Not everything… He can."
The woman's expression hardened.
> "Who is this mortal you speak of?"
> "A boy," Taishara said softly, gazing into the clouds below the divine realm.
"A soul born in a world of fleeting light… his name is Senjetsu Moichiro."
The gods exchanged looks — shock, confusion, even fear.
> "That human?!" one god shouted.
"He's just a child kicking a ball of leather — not a warrior, not a sage!"
Taishara's eyes narrowed.
> "Yet in his heart lies what none of you possess — defiance against fate itself."
---
Meanwhile — Earth, Nagoya Blades Academy, Japan.
The match roared with energy. Players shouted, boots struck grass, and the sound of cheering echoed.
Moichiro sprinted across the field, sweat dripping down his face, eyes locked on the ball.
> (I'll show them... I'll show everyone that I belong here!)
He dribbled past defenders — one, two, three — his movements fueled by raw passion.
But as he looked up, he saw the ball rolling beyond the fence — onto the nearby road.
> "I'll get it!" Moichiro yelled, dashing after it.
The other players shouted.
> "Wait—Moichiro! Don't—!"
SCREEEEEECH!
A blinding light. A loud crash.
Time froze.
The truck's horn echoed into the heavens. The world went silent.
Moichiro's body lay motionless, his fingers still brushing the football that had rolled onto the street.
---
Back in the divine realm…
The gods stood, watching a single glowing thread rise from Earth — Moichiro's soul.
The woman god clenched her fists.
> "Taishara… don't tell me…"
Taishara's eyes softened.
> "The ritual begins now."
Golden circles formed beneath his feet — sacred runes spinning around his divine form.
The sky above the heavenly realm darkened.
Thunder rolled, lightning laced with divine power struck the clouds. The entire realm trembled.
> "Taishara, this is madness! You'll burn his soul to ash!"
> "No." He raised his hand, voice calm yet commanding.
"He will not burn. He will be reborn."
The gods shielded their eyes as the light burst across the sky — an explosion of white and shadow intertwining.
Taishara's figure began to fade, his divine essence flowing downward, chasing the falling soul of Moichiro.
> "May your new life be your true beginning… My successor."
---
Elsewhere…
The cry of a baby echoed softly.
A small hand reached upward toward the glowing sunlight filtering through a wooden ceiling.
He had no memories, no words — only a strange warmth pulsing in his chest.
The woman beside him smiled gently.
> "He's beautiful… what should we name him?"
The man smiled, holding the baby close.
> "Let's call him... Rael."
The baby blinked, his bright blue eyes reflecting a faint shadow of divine power.
And thus, the soul of Senjetsu Moichiro — the boy who defied fate — was reborn into another world.