22. after the tears dry (rainbow flowers will bloom)

Raimon vs Ancient Dark begins with horribly skewed odds--- they don't have their Ace Strikers, they don't have their game maker, and they're one member short of a proper team.

Even then, they have to fight.

(No one's ever taught them how to ask for help, because no one's ever given it.)

-

For a terrifying moment, Megane considers cutting out the transmission. The comments are all taking the broadcast with mixed feelings, and while it's good to keep people talking, he can't help but feel as if he's been played.

; Soccer isn't supposed to be violent. Fifth sucks.

; But the amount of people that get severely injured during football games are always high. I'm pretty sure it went down after Fifth took over.

; People get permanent injuries from football, ankle and wrist injuries the most.

; They do in other sports too, idiots.

; I'm pretty sure basketball is the sport with the highest injury rates. You don't see anyone trying to control basketball.

; Well basketball isn't the most popular sport in the world, is it? No one cares what rank your school is in for district basketball prefectures.

; Shit these are KIDS they get injured get over it

; Pretty fucking sure if any of these get disabled for life you're all gonna go oh no who could have predicted this

; Football's stupid, anyways

; I'd say the score orders are smart. Football's never meant to be so damn important, who's idea was it to make it a competition where your entire reputation's on the line if you lose, anyways?

; Didn't you hear the other day some Raimon kids got fucking HOSPITALIZED? Over SOCCER? This world's insane

; Yeah because they were ASSAULTED you nutcase

; over a SOCCER GAME

; We're truly in the darkest timeline

-

"Kirino."

Kirino tries to calm down on the bench as warmups begin. He doesn't have time to falter about it all, but right now, all he wants to do is curl up. His hands are intertwined and he wonders if this is how Jeanne felt on the battlefield— cornered, fearful, guilty, cowardly—

"Can you take this?"

Kirino has to take a moment to remember what the red band in Coach Endou's hand meant as he extended it toward him.

He looks up, and realizes everyone else is staring at him, too.

Sure, Kirino's been acting captain before— before Tenma, the role was Kirino's. Sangoku or Tsurugi could step in when asked to, but Kirino was the one everyone turned to. It went without saying that now, there was no one better to pick up the pieces.

(But how can Kirino manage that, when he's in pieces, too?)

"Yeah," His body and his tongue moved, almost in protest to how pathetic he was acting, and he strapped it up his sleeve, getting up before his mind could reason otherwise.

He has to fix this. He has to fix this somehow, even if it's impossible.

(Tenma always said it'd work out somehow. It has to work out somehow.)

"Let's do this, everyone," he steps toward the team, and through their concerned gazes, he forces a stern smile before turning toward Ancient Dark. "We just have to play our soccer, and it'll all work out somehow."

When the team roars back, bravado more than anything.

This was a losing match. They don't have two of their strongest strikers, their guiding baton has been taken away, and most of all— there's only ten of them left. And Hayami's leg isn't in top condition, even though he can play. Who knows how long Kirino can last?

The odds are stacked against them, and if they're trying to prove a point, they're really grinding it in.

"Then, right away," Kirino turns to the Coach. "Here are my suggestions for the formation."

-

Coach Endou collects them around to begin the briefing.

"We'll go with our usual— four Defenders for a solid back. I want Ichino in the center of the midfielders. Hamano and Hayami, on either side."

Ichino jumps at that. "Me?"

They don't usually only have three midfielders, but in situations they do— that's Shindou's spot. The center of the field, the one leading the entire charge forward— he wants Ichino in there when he's arguably the weakest player?

"I'm all for it, but..." Hayami frowns, confused. "Wait..." he counts on his fingers.

"Wait, Coach Endou!" Tenma realizes what's wrong when everyone glances at him. "Where am I supposed to be, then?"

Aoi turns her board around.

Tenma's eyes bulge and Kurama does a violent double take when he doesn't see it at first. "You're putting him on Forward??"

Kurama whirls on Tenma and Tenma's too jaw-dropped flabbergasted to even turn back to him.

"B- But that's— the—" he looks everywhere before finding Ichino, "wouldn't Ichino-senpai be more suited for that position? He's played forward plenty of times more—"

"Yes, Ichino has more experience than you as Forward, but right now, we need Ichino in the midfield," Kirino takes over to explain. "Right now, we need a gamemaker— and Ichino's much more accustomed to controlling Hayami and Hamano. You're good at bringing the ball up, but now, we need your adaptability to support Kurama."

Tenma couldn't even say anything to that.

Sure, the only difference between a Midfielder and Forward was how far into the enemy territory they usually drove into, and he could do it easily— but being Forward in such an important match was a burden a First-Year was ill-prepared for.

Kirino understood.

But it's necessary.

"Right now, the team only has mine and your Keshin on hand," Kirino says. Tenma tenses at that— "I'll handle the back, and you handle the front. We don't have room to compromise, please understand."

Tenma swallows nervously, but he nods.

"I won't disappoint, Kirino-senpai," he promises.

Kirino pats him on the shoulder assuringly.

On the bench, Midori curses, punching the bench in frustration. "If this weren't technically an official match, I'd be throwing fucking hands," she snarls.

"I'll be real with you," Hamano says, "if this weren't technically an official match, I'd vote for you to be on the team so we wouldn't be fighting this one member down."

"Oh, that's a good ide—"

"No," Hayami emphasizes, "nevermind that she's a girl and thus can't play in our category, I do NOT want her beside Kurama, they will fight!"

Akane hums, "Honestly she could put on pants and call it a day."

"Akane, no," Aoi clarifies, "only registered players can play in official matches."

"Wouldn't it have made more sense that we got someone from Kaiou over here?" Amagi says. "I don't think we'd work very well together, but having someone with a Keshin would've been assuring."

"Same reason— even worse, this time," says Sangoku says, "he's not even registered on our school roster, do you think he'd be able to play representing Raimon?"

Amagi groans. "Well I don't see anyone complaining about Aoba Junior High having exactly zero people from Aoba!"

"Oh we've complained," Kurama murmurs. "We've complained. Like hell."

"Yeah, but Namikawa-san and the others went to raid the place," Shinsuke says. "I didn't want to interrupt."

"If this weren't technically an official match televised on military land," Touko interrupts, "I'd have my SPs raiding this place and a lot of lawsuits on the Holy Emperor's head, but unfortunately, political jargon-this-thats means we can't air our soccer-related dirty laundry in front of the world again or America will take soccer away from us until we behave."

"What?" Kurumada heard all of that but he understood none of it.

"Trainer Zaizen!" Coach Endou calls. "Stop corrupting my children and get over here and make yourself useful!"

"Oh uh— Go kill them all dead, kids!"

"What did I JUST say, Touko!"

"Oh and, Tiny Defender boy, wanna know how to raise a tower?"

"Right now??"

-

They got into formation and waited for the whistle.

"Shuu..."

Tenma faces Shuu, conflicted, but he only gets a firm glare in return.

"Your soccer is so fun and free," Tenma says. "So why? Isn't Fifth Sector doing exactly what the islanders used to do back in the day?"

Shuu's tongue clicks.

"The world won't change for us," Shuu says. "Are you going to stay on the side of the weaklings, or are you going to ally yourself with the strong and come out victorious? I've had enough of losing people I love, Tenma."

"We're not weak!" Tenma insists. "Soccer isn't meant to be played like this— if we play this right, everyone can have fun with it!"

"Hey—" Kurama calls, frowning at their conversation. "This isn't the time—"

"Fun?" Shuu scowls, "in our universe, soccer is just a tool to determine people's value. It doesn't matter what you want. We're cursed, Tenma."

Tenma freezes.

When Shuu says his name then— there's a hint of such indescribable pain in the lilt of his voice. When he breaks into a heartbreaking smile, it's heartbreaking, just how much it's clear that Shuu hates this, too.

"We're cursed by soccer, and I've seen it happen, so I know. There's nothing we can do about it."

The whistle blows for the kickoff to begin.

"Hey!" Kurama calls. "Head in the game, Matsukaze!" Tenma isn't even looking his way— with a curse, Kurama spins, and sends it to Ichino instead.

But before Ichino can do a thing— Shuu swoops right in, and takes the ball.

"Crap—!"

-

As expected, they lost control of the game right away.

Kirino tries not to let the shaking in his hands be too obvious, but there's little he can do except call, "Kurumada-senpai! Shinsuke, go!"

When Shinsuke's sliding tackle is easily leapt over, Kurumada charges, bumping harshly shoulder to shoulder with Shuu for all of a moment before Shuu jerks back— Kurumada loses his balance, and with a drop to the back in a flip, Shuu hooks the ball up into the air, and Kai picks it right up.

Ancient Dark moves on, passing from Kai right back to Shuu, and then, onward.

Kirino glances at Amagi, and a firm nod—

—he wills his mist around him. Deep, hollow breaths— and in a moment, tier field of vision is completely obscured.

"Deep Mist."

Right behind him, there's the slam of a first against the ground as a wall groans to life, erupting from the earth— "Viva! The Great Wall of China!"

Shuu scoffs, pausing right before the deepest point of the mist.

"Sure," Kai chuckles, "can't see our teammates, can't see the goal, and block off the straight road— smart, I'll give you that."

"But it's pointless," Shuu says.

When the purple aura churns up around him, Kirino sucks in a sharp breath— he already knows what's coming. With the ball shrouded by a stream of black energy, Shuu sends it upward— then back down, before launching it toward the goal in a sharp bullet of pure ashen darkness.

"Black Ash!"

It sears through Kirino's mist right by his head, splitting the fog in half. It spears through the Great Wall of China the second it impacted, and then—

"Unassisted Hand!"

Sangoku braced heavily for it, but it still knocked him off his feet on the way into the net.

"[GOAL!]" the announcer screams, "[Ancient Dark takes an instant lead against Raimon!]"

Kirino rises to his feet, unable to even look back at Sangoku to see if he's alright.

His eyes are fixed on Shuu, whose eyes are locked on him too— unreadable stoicism in his expressions.

"You can have all the tactics you want," Shuu says. "You can layer as many shields as you want. If the spear is stronger, none of them will matter."

Kirino's fist clenches.

Shuu turns around, to head back to his side of the field, "we're already doing you a favour. Our defenders aren't even on this side of the field," Shuu says. "Do your best with ten people, alright?"

Kirino bites down on his bottom lip, frustrated, but unable to say a single thing.

They're being looked down upon. They're being mocked. There's nothing they can do even then, because the reality is that they're too weak to change any of this.

(What can he do? Last time they barely scraped by with four Keshin. And that was summoning them back and forth until they couldn't anymore— now, they only had two, and Kirino's a time bomb. Sure, Hakuryuu isn't on the other team, but—)

(Agh, this is impossible. This is impossible, and it's all because Kirino jumped the gun. He's always fallen apart without Shindou by his side. That's never changed.)

(Like Jeanne, all he's ever known to do was sit and wait for the call of his purpose, cowardly and unconfident otherwise.)

"...ino— Kirino!"

Kirino vaguely realizes his shoulders are grabbed and he's being shaken, but he doesn't expect the loud headbutt that smashed against the center of his skull.

"KIRINO!"

With a yelp Kirino stumbles back, arms up to reach for his head, cringing, but the tears prickling out of his eyes from the pain is delayed momentarily by intense ringing in his ears and— oh, someone's standing over him.

He looks up and he's surprised to see it's Ichino, forehead numb and red from— presumably bashing his skull against Kirino's with all his might.

"Did you hear a single thing I said?"

Ichino looked annoyed. Like, pissed. That's so rare that it's all Kirino can do to meekly nod with a nervous, "uh, no?"

Ichino groans, "I said," a deep breath. "That was my bad! I was caught off guard and lost the momentum before any of you could prepare!"

Kirino blinks.

"What? No, we prepared— we just lost anyways—"

"It was MY FAULT," Ichino insisted, loud and voice raised, and that's when Kirino realizes everyone else is keeping a wide berth around them but they're staring. Shinsuke looks conflicted and Tenma is frantic, but every other member of Raimon is keeping them back, because yeah, no.

No one interrupts Ichino when he's like that.

"Got it?" Ichino says, punching at his chest, "that lost point was entirely my fault. Now that we've got that cleared, let's shrug it off, and we'll get the next one!"

Kirino's eyes lift at that.

Ichino's hands are clenched tight and whiteknuckled, so they wouldn't shake. His eyes are filled with concern, but they're pointed straight forward, and his shoulders are pulled back with resolve. His steps are purposeful as he reaches a hand forward and lifts Kirino up to his feet.

His grip is firm.

"Hopeless situations are normal! We've been dealing with them ever since this whole revolution started!" Ichino says. "But panicking now won't get us anywhere. Chewing yourself out for mistakes isn't going to achieve anything! We just have to keep going until we figure something out!"

Ichino turns to everyone with each word he says, and they find themselves nodding back.

"I'm sorry I can't give you guys any better assurance," he says. "But the last thing I want is for Shindou to come back to a team that's just in shambles. So, bear with me and let's hold the fort until then, alright?"

He chuckles as he says the last part.

Some let out a fond smile at that. The loss of the Second Team crushed Ichino's pride deeply back on the first day of this year when Tsurugi struck— but that's exactly why this situation isn't bringing him down as easily.

He already knows he can't win.

He's been stewing, every day from that time, to get his revenge against Fifth Sector. And he's far from being able to actually achieve it yet— but darn, he's clawed his way up from rock bottom and he's going to claw up again.

"Kirino, Raimon's Defense has you as its cornerstone," Ichino says. "So, we'll support you all the way. Please help me with the back, because I can't handle all this alone."

Kirino can't help but smile.

Shindou would never say something like 'please help me', he would simply say 'I'll leave it to you'. But being sincerely asked for help is a new experience. It's almost humbling, and it gives him confidence when he's asked for help, rather than entrusted with the job.

"Kurama-senpai, and Tenma," Ichino says. "If possible, I'd like you both to focus on the upper half of the field. We'll figure out how to get the ball to you, so focus on getting shots."

"Alright," Kurama says.

"Ah— I'll do my best!" Tenma says.

"Hamano, Hayami, I'm hardly as skilled as Shindou, so I'm sorry— you'll have to cover for me, please," Ichino turns to them, but they're both smiling assuringly.

"Leave it to us!" Hamano beams.

Hayami sighs, but it's fond, "well, what can we do?"

Ichino's confidence needs a lot of work, but he can do it when it counts. It's hardly the masterful commanding Shindou brings forth on the field, but it does its job when no one else can.

It makes Kirino think, humbly, ah, what have I been so worried about? Because here Ichino is, weaker than him but still optimistic, trying his best, and looking at all of this from a rational perspective.

"Alright!" Ichino says, "we've barely started! We can still turn this pace around, so let's do this, everyone!"

When Ichino goes back to his position, Kirino knows his shoulders are lighter now. There's a chuckle from everyone else, a newfound confidence rising within them.

Kirino hustles forward to stop Ichino before he's properly in position.

"Huh?"

"This belongs to you."

"Wha—"

Without another word Kirino hurries back to the defense line, leaving Ichino dumbstruck, the Raimon captain's band in his hands.

When Ichino spins around, flabbergasted, looking for some other form of explanation for what just happened to him— he's served with a thumbs up from Hamano and Kurumada. Kurama and Sangoku is hollering for him to put it on so the whistle can begin already. Tenma and Shinsuke are looking at it in awe.

His last hopes are Coach Endou, but he, along with Trainer Zaizen and the managers, are grinning wide and proud will all but affirmative for the decision. There's a breath an Aoi before she and Midori (and a much more subdued Akane) launch into a cheer tirade of his name.

Ichino looks like he's about to cry, but he pulls it on, pulls himself together, and the whistle marks the game's continuation.

-

The first half goes terribly. Of course, they're horribly overwhelmed, and Ancient Dark predicts every move they make. They're almost mocking them, somersaulting over their heads, stealing the ball just to pass it right back before they've fully crossed, giggling.

They already knew from their little practice session, but Ancient Dark is strong.

They haven't taken another point yet— leaving Raimon to flounder, getting as close as the goal just to stop them easily, and start all over from the beginning again.

It's demotivating. Crushingly so.

"Is this really a game?"

Tenma's teeth are gritted.

"This isn't how soccer is supposed to be."

"But it's what soccer has become," Shuu tells him.

"And I'm not accepting that!" Tenma snaps. His voice is raised, "soccer was made for us to have fun! It's not something people can just take away from us because they want to put a new meaning to it!"

"It's out of your control, Tenma!" Shuu snaps back. "Your whole attitude about this is exactly why tragedy has happened in every timeli—!!"

Tenma doesn't even hear the near slipup from Shuu. "And why is it out of my control? Soccer belongs to the people who play it! No one person can own it, everyone around the world plays it with different rules, different skills, so why is Fifth Sector allowed to monopolize it like this? It makes no sense!"

"Because people have power, Tenma," Shuu hisses at him, "they have power, and that's why they have the authority to decide things like this. We're weak, so no matter what they do, we can't do anything but accept it."

"And I said—"

Tenma's voice grinds out low, and the wisps of purplish-blue seep out from his figure.

"—I'm not accepting it! Come out, Demon God Pegasus!"

Shuu steps back, bracing himself for what's coming— but instead, someone comes up from behind him, and he doesn't realize it until the haunting chill of a serpent crawls up his neck, and the fear petrifies him for just a moment too long.

"Hey, brat. Yelling at my juniors is my job."

The ball is gone before Shuu recovers, and Kurama slides the ball to Tenma's feet right as Pegasus takes him on a ride. Kurama scoffs in Shuu's direction before going ahead.

Shuu's honestly impressed.

"Tenma, give it back to me, we're making a shoot chain!" Kurama hollers, and Tenma obediently sends the ball back down in a heel kick.

(Back at the bench, Endou balks. "Ah, wait–"

"From the center of the field, Sidewinder!"

When Kurama sends it forward in a spur of green spiral, the giant snake roaring with a mighty furor greater than usual right through the field— even Kurama's surprised.

"Wait, what? It's not supposed to be that fast," Kurama balks, "crap. He's not going to be able to get it—"

"I CAN!" Tenma roars, and Pegasus soars overhead, zipping through the entire field so quickly, he's a blur against the Defenders. Shuu stays in his spot, honestly starstruck— and with a boost from Pegasus, the second part of the shoot chain connects before the first loses its power.

Tenma slides in beside the snake, a moment of eye contact spurring forth a confident smile, and the Great Snake God lets him through.

"Justice Wing!"

(Coach Endou's hands are holding his head in utter conflicted celebration because, "they just accidentally discovered Twin Boost. Oh god they accidentally discovered Twin Boost. Thank god they didn't hurt themselves with that one but how did they accidentally discover--")

As the whistle screeches out for a momentous first point for Raimon— Shuu turns toward them as they jump and celebrate, Tenma leaping to hug Kurama, who shrieks— and Shuu lets out a sigh that sags his shoulder.

He turns to his team.

"I guess playtime's over."

And from there, Ancient Dark took it seriously, and the game became a one-sided mess.

-

; At this point, 5th's right

; Soccer's gone too far now, and it needs to be stopped

; I mean, are you SEEING this shit? In what universe is this normal?

; If I had a kid, I'd be terrified if they wanted to pursue soccer as a career

-

"I said... don't come near me!"

Minamisawa heard the commotion before he got to the center of it, and he knew from Trainer Kidou's tense shoulders that it wasn't anything good. Shindou catches up, stumbling in from the opposite hallway with Ms Otonashi.

Namikawa, Yoshimine, and Wanda are there.

So is Fudou and Ichinose, but the only thing Minamisawa is aware of now is that half of them were only fresh allies on the fence of things, and this place has hurt them enough for him to not trust a single adult in this place.

Tsurugi's sitting shoulders tight, legs drawn, curling into himself in the corner of this very hallways— and it looks like the three from Kaiou's boxing him in.

Minamisawa felt the anger boil in him, irrationally– "hey, what are you three fucking doing—" He pauses.

Namikawa turns back sharply, hand held out as a warning. A simple shake of the head— and Minamisawa realizes the problem. The air is suffocating with the air of a Keshin, dark and furious— so thickly laid upon, it's constricting his chest.

It's coming from Tsurugi.

Tsurugi, and the deep, purplish energy wafting from him, shrouding his figure so angrily it's a cloak of sheer hatred. The wall behind him is worn out and scratched up, strangely more than anywhere else not around him. There's blood running down stab holes in the center of his palm, and as much as

Tsurugi's eyes gleam a dangerous rim of red, and in a different blink, Minamisawa sees the purple shroud around him flutter with chains.

Minamisawa knows that right now, the only reason he's alright, is because Namikawa is standing before him— and his Keshin is helping them sustain that balance.

"Back off,"

When Tsurugi speaks, his voice is feral, a growl like a wounded beast.

Minamisawa feels a hand on his shoulder, and it's Shindou— his grip firm, but trembling. There's a nervous shake to his gait, and Minamisawa's every breath is laden with a heavy ache.

Ah, what a pain.

What a pain in the ass.

A few months ago, Minamisawa would've done everything in the world to throw Tsurugi Kyousuke off a building while no one was looking.

(But now?)

(Now Minamisawa wants to destroy everyone in this entire fucking building if it means Tsurugi comes out of it feeling just a little better.)

"What now?" Shindou asks, "we need to wrap up those wounds, but..."

"We get that, but we can't go near him," Namikawa says. "Whatever happened to Lancelot, it's not good. If only his partner was here, but..."

"It's no good. They sent Hakuryuu off on another mission," Yoshimine says. There's a tablet in his hand, where he's going through the current attendance record of all SEEDs in the facility. "They must have done this on purpose. And his assigned pair was reassigned to Shuu way too quickly. They were leaving Tsurugi to the fuckin' sharks here."

When Minamisawa glares at Wanda for an explanation—

—Wanda sighs.

"There's nothing we can do, alright? He's at his most vulnerable now, you think he wants any of us in his space?" he grumbles. "That's the whole point of the partner system in Marked SEEDs— went through hell together, but since they're not alone, they're more inclined to stay useful."

It's clear they threw all that into the drain for Tsurugi, though.

"You don't drive anyone to this point, not even in God Eden," Namikawa says. "This is Fifth Sector taking away one of their weapons that Raimon got a hold of. That's all."

Because that's all the SEEDs are, in the end.

Weapons, cultivated to drive their agenda, discarded when they're no longer worth it.

"But what the hell did they do? Even those with Keshin Rejections don't get this bad!" Yoshimine groans. "Dammit, the match's going on, too..."

If there's anyone that could help, maybe they could pin a few names— his brother, definitely. Maybe Coach Endou, he's been doing a decent job. Heck, Tenma or Shinsuke would be fine. Aoi would be absolutely ideal. But Shindou? A toss-up. Minamisawa? Absolutely not, he's done one thing this year and that's utterly despise him.

"Wha— hey!"

"Don't—!!"

"Wait...!!"

Minamisawa doesn't have a moment to falter, because through their struggle to grasp the situation, Kidou Yuuto marching right through them, past the line of former SEEDs and he almost seems to brush the purple fog away like a pesty updraft of cigarette smoke, scowling in distaste before crouching down before Tsurugi.

"Kidou-san?!"

None of the children knew how to stop him. It's at the same moment Otonashi Haruna takes the tablet from Yoshimine with a curt, "I'll be having this," and there wasn't even time to protest.

"Tsurugi—" Kidou begins, but Tsurugi slaps his hand away sharply, shrinking back.

"I said LEAVE!"

Kidou doesn't move away. "The blood on your hand's cold, but your hand's warm. That means it's going to infect soon. So..." he extends his hand, but doesn't reach for Tsurugi, simply laying his hand ready around his knee. "At least let me see it."

Tsurugi looks between his hand and Kidou's gaze behind those goggles— and his fingers curl, hesitant.

"If you stay this close..." Tsurugi starts, voice much more subdued, "I can't guarantee Lancelot won't attack you."

Kidou hums. "I guess," he says. "But I'm an adult, so I can protect myself."

Tsurugi's teeth grinded at that, scowling. "I don't need anyone's help."

"I believe that," Kidou nods again. "But do you want it?"

Tsurugi had to take a moment for that. As if he didn't understand— just what the distinction was, why he had to ask the same question twice. Because they were the same question, right?

(When has he ever been able to ask for help, when here, all that matters is becoming strong enough to save yourself?)

"I'm an adult, so, it's my job," he says. "That's what I'm here for. So, how about it?"

Who cares how strong you are? We live in a society, and society exists to help the weak. Strength isn't meant to be shown off— it's meant to be used for others.

(So, what could Tsurugi do?)

(What could Tsurugi do except take that hand and cling, for the first helping hand that's ever reached him in his life?)

"Shindou, Minamisawa, you two come along, too," Kidou says.

"B- But, Kidou-san," Shindou says, "the match is going on right now. I need to—"

"Everyone's in danger," Minamisawa says. "I need to give this all to El Dorado and—"

"That can wait."

Ms Otonashi says this firmly, and when she takes the hearing aid from Minamisawa, it's gentle. She gets on her knees and holds them close.

"Listen. The most important thing right now for the three of you is to get treated and recover. Your friends will be fine— they're strong. You guys go abc when you're ready."

They fall silent. There's nothing they could say to that, especially when their heavy shoulders craved some rest from the chaos of the days of hell they've endured here.

As Kidou Yuuto picks him up and they make their way to the infirmary they've managed to secure— there's a purpose in Kidou's steps, and a furrow set in his brows, an anger boiling in his veins.

"Just tell me what happened," Kidou says. "And we'll make it right."

-

"You're going to run? After all this?"

Ishido Shuuji manages to find Supporter X, the time bracelet gleaming with coordinates on its screen, moments before activation.

That was close. Almost let them go.

"I've done what I came to do," Supporter X says. "What happens now, it is the problem of this era. My interference ends here... for now."

Ishido Shuuji can't help but hate that.

Nevermind Senguuji. This mastermind pulling the strings— it's impossible to figure what their goal is. Finding Second Stage Children? Cultivating their potential? What on earth are they trying to do to the younger generation, and what are they going to do with them after it all?

(Is this a repeat of the Aliea incident?)

"Don't misunderstand," Support X tells him. "This isn't me letting this situation go. Raimon needs to be erased, and soccer needs to be monitored. This is for the sake of the future."

Ishido Shuuji's fists clench.

"For the far future, maybe, that you claim you come from," his words are laced with spite. "What about the near future? What about the children you see right now, do they not matter if it means the future?"

"The ends justify the means," Supporter X says. "You wouldn't understand. I'm just trying to protect the children that are dear to me, too."

"And why does that mean you can mess us these kids?"

Supporter X gives no answer. The response was already given— there's no right way to go about it. They're both protecting the children closest to them, and if that means children of another era suffer... then the one that has the right to proceed are the ones with the power to see their actions through.

Now, Ishido Shuuji has neither knowledge nor the ability to time travel. How could he do anything but play the long con, sit and watch as the children suffer?

He's helpless.

"...when the Core Timeline was lost, we lost everything," Supporter X tells him.

Ishido Shuuji sees the Time Bracelet light up, but there's nothing he can do.

"We lost knowledge. We lost advancements. We lost the cure, too, and it'll cost far, far too much for a miracle like Chrono Storm to be gathered again to find peace for us. Their sacrifice was for nothing, so now, we have to start from the ground up and find the source again," Supporter X says. "I will stop the growth of the Second Stage gene at its source, and from there... the future will be normal once more."

"...The source?"

Ishido Shuuji doesn't get to ask his next question.

"Who—!?" he curses as Supporter X vanishes in a flash of light. But something was for sure— despite having the ability to time travel, there are still things Supporter X doesn't know.

Who is the ancestor of the Second Stage Children, that curses the future? An indescribable, uncontrollable power dangerous to both the child and to everyone around them— something that, according to Supporter X, must be eradicated.

God Eden was made to find that one child.

(Has Supporter X figured out who it is? It must be a guess, at best. If so, then— then Ishido Shuuji has to move now. Find out who it is, and then...)

(And then, at all costs, protect that child.)

-

With the score at 4-1 in Ancient Dark's favour, the first half is waning to an end and everyone is on the ground, bruised and battered.

Kirino stands before the goal even as Sangoku takes a knee, standing before Shuu once more as the next goal is imminent.

"Why won't you just stay down?" Shuu says. "It'd be easier for all of us."

The midfielders try to get up, but they can't. The Defenders are down, and Sangoku stumbles onto his feet, apprehensive. Kirino stands strong in the center of the goal, looking Shuu firmly in the eye.

"I'm Raimon's Ace Defender," Kirino says. "If it's going down, I'm going down with it. But as long as I'm standing, it's not over yet!"

Shuu frowns.

"Soccer's not worth it," Shuu says. "I thought you, of all people, should have been aware of that."

Kirino stands strong. "Unfortunately, I hold the will of someone who thrives in hopeless situations and turns it around into victory," he says. "I can't bring shame to her name."

"Even after everything?"

Shuu's fists are clenched tight.

"Maybe you can say that so easily," he says, lowly, clearly angered, "maybe you can bear to stand back up again, no matter how many sacrifices are made. Just for your blind hope, people are supposed to endure tragedy, over and over— and they're supposed to just trust you? Because you say it'll be fine, even though you'r ejust blindlyl believing it all too?"

Shuu's next words are a pained plea.

"What do you think we can do by trying harder?" his words are desperate. "Can't you stop being selfish, for all of our sakes? Soccer is a curse, and we just want you to stop. Please... isn't losing your entire world enough?"

Kirino freezes at that.

"Shuu–?"

"Come out! The God of Darkness," Shuu calls, hand raised to the sky. "Dark Exodus!"

Kirino has questions, so many questions. But all of them were blown to the back of his mind when the god of shadows and doom roared above them, the broad axe swung against the air, the hollow of his presence weakening all who dared meet its eyes.

Selfish? Yes. Maybe he's selfish. That's what everyone called Jeanne, too— selfish, for leading soldiers into a battle they would surely die in. They won, miraculous just as she'd predicted, but those lives lost will never come back to them.

(Selfish, that's right.)

(But she had hope to persevere, and she'd do it, over and over, prideful in the name of what she believed in. Even in death, she never let their words define her.)

"Sorry, Shuu," Kirino says.

He lets his fingers intertwine into a prayer, and as he wills Brynhildr to form over him, there is no hesitation in his gaze.

"Even if there's only hell beyond this tunnel... I dug myself into it," Kirino says. "So it's my responsibility to see it all through."

The Battle Flag Bearer, Brynhildr, raises her flag beyond them.

"It doesn't matter how many times you strike me down, as long as I'm alive, I'll be standing right there," he declares. "If hell is where we've come to, then hell is where I'll lead the charge!"

Shuu's eyes soften, almost crestfallen.

"That's what I hate about you all," he whispers. "I hate it so much, that you guys had to be so wonderful, and yet, I have to watch it all get destroyed in the end."

Kirino knows.

Kirino knows they're doomed by the narrative. He comes from a future of disaster, after all— he comes from a future where disaster never ends, and it's always shrouded by the curse of soccer upon this land. It'll never end. With every tragedy, comes the next.

"But even then," Kirino says. "We, the Inazuma Eleven, will continue playing soccer."