The announcement came right after lunch break.
"Football club preliminary sign-ups will be held today after school. Official trials will be conducted once the appointed coach arrives. Final squad selection is at the coach's discretion. Any students interested may report to the field."
Most classrooms reacted the same way.
A few snorts.
Some half-jokes.
"Tryouts? For that club?"
"They need bodies more than talent."
"They should just disband."
Tenma sat at his desk by the window, silent, eyes drifting toward the field.
Evening practice started late.
The sun was still up but low.
Only four people waited on the pitch — Gen, Sera, Tobita, and Hina with the clipboard.
Tenma stayed in class, watching from above.
At first maybe a dozen boys wandered in. None of them looked serious. Curiosity more than interest.
Sera handed them cones.
Light jogging.
Basic touch drills.
Half of them were already yawning.
When the passing drill started, two walked off laughing.
When juggle counts were called, three more quit after failing twice.
"Break," Sera said flatly.
Most didn't come back from the break.
Only one looked like he actually came to try: a first-year with unkempt hair and restless eyes.
Yuki Toma.
When they set up a small 5v5 with volunteers, the "team" was barely patched together — Tobita stood as neutral keeper, Gen defending, Sera rotating touches. Yuki ran everywhere.
Loose ball? He chased.
Space opened? He attacked it.
He even scored twice — simple finishes, but timed right.
The other boys watching didn't clap or comment. They just drifted away, like they'd seen enough.
At the end, only Yuki remained.
He stood there catching his breath, waiting.
Gen walked toward him.
"You didn't run away," he said.
Yuki looked up. "I… want to play."
"You're alright," Gen said. "Your movement was good. You don't freeze in front of goal."
Yuki blinked once, surprised.
"…Thanks."
Sera came up behind them. "Don't misunderstand. This isn't final. When the coach arrives, he decides roster."
"I know," Yuki nodded, still smiling.
Gen (final): But until then, you practice with us."
Yuki (short bow, bright but not loud):
> "Yes!"
Team reaction: small smiles, quiet sense of hope.
Hina wrote his name on the sheet.
Upstairs, Tenma watched Yuki still talking with them — the only one who stayed, the only one who didn't treat it like a joke.
Tenma's lips curved just slightly before he turned away from the window.
[NEXT MORNING SCENE]
The next day started quiet.
Tenma arrived earlier than usual.
The halls were mostly empty.
He cut across the back path near the field.
He heard a thud. Then another.
Someone was already there.
Yuki — alone — trying the same shot over and over.
Ball rolling wide.
Shoulder slump.
Reset.
Tenma slowed without meaning to.
Yuki backed up his run again, struck —
too early on the plant step, contact rushed — the ball skidded harmlessly off the post and bounced away.
He chased it down with a small frustrated breath.
Tenma exhaled quietly.
"…your last step is crowding the ball."
Yuki jerked up a little, not realizing someone was close.
Tenma didn't move closer.
Just stood by the fence.
"If your rhythm is two short touches before the strike, don't kill it with a flat plant.
Let the ball breathe half a beat before contact."
Yuki blinked.
"…ah—"
Tenma lifted a hand slightly, demonstrating only with shape, not motion.
"Run-up. Plant. Pause. Then hit."
Yuki tried it again.
Touch—touch—pause—strike.
Cleaner.
The ball rose and curled neatly inside the side netting.
Yuki's eyes widened. "Oh—!"
He turned back.
"Um— tha—"
But Tenma was already walking off toward the building, expression unreadable.
Yuki stood there for a second, confused… then grinned to himself and collected the ball.
He set it again.
Same rhythm.
Same pause.
Net again.
He pumped a tiny fist by his side, quietly.
The sun was barely up.
No one else had arrived.
But he stayed, repeating the motion, over
and over
and over.