23. our blue souls (connect us to the next era)

From one half to the next, Raimon picks up their pieces and keep it together, despite the odds. With their key players back by their sides, the counterattack begins.

They've made miracles happen before, and they'll do it again.

-

-

Kirino has no idea when he lost consciousness, but he finds himself rousing, laid across the side of the field near the benches, his head in Aoi's lap.

"Ah– Kirino-senpai!" she exclaims, when she realizes, "Akane-senpai, Coach!"

Disoriented, the world doesn't seem real for a moment.

For a moment he wished everything up until now were a bad dream. That he'd sit up, and the faces of his Raimon would look back at him, run to him, and tell him everything would be alright.

But it wasn't, and when he looked over, it's all wrong.

"Kirino!" Sangoku spins around from his spot in the circle of strategy meeting.

It must be half time, then.

More voices call out in alarm and approach— and Kirino pushes himself up with a groan, coming to face Coach Endou. Akane hands him a water, and he sips it carefully.

No point asking the obvious 'what happened' question. He remembers the ache of that ball that knocked him out very vividly. It's still thrumming in his head, actually.

"Don't need to get up, you've got a concussion."

Kirino pauses at that.

"Why am I not in an infirmary or something then?" because even when god Eden is hell, they kind of have them. They can't just not bring the injured to places, it affects productivity.

"Oh I don't trust them with you," Coach Endou says. "We're actually in Ijigen the Hand right now."

Kirino hums, like that makes sense.

Then he realizes, that really doesn't, and he frantically looks around— oh, that orange glow surrounding them was neither a hallucination, sunlight, nor weird spotlight work. That's a gleaming rising shield of pure aura, stretching out far overhead and encasing them in essentially a gigantic dome of protection.

"It kinda looks like Miyabino's Power Shield," Sangoku observes.

"It's inspired by it, I guess you could say?" Coach Endou says. "But Power Shield protects from the front, while this one slides everything upward. Try hitting the ground sometimes, things might come out."

"Uh. Okay."

Kirino looks around him and he's genuinely gawking. Yeah, legendary Goalkeeper and everything, but did Coach Endou just raise a force field over their entire bench area so they'd have privacy?

"Senpai, are you okay? Want a candy?" there's Tenma and Shinsuke, crouching down beside them. Shinsuke has some sweets between his palms, and Kirino found himself taking one. It's lemon salt candy.

"Trainer Zaizen gave those to us," Tenma says.

For a moment, it was so peaceful Kirino forgot they were in the middle of disaster.

"Kirino! Please don't take a ball to the head again," Hayami heaves a breath, taking Aoi's place behind him as he reached for the now loose hair, "seriously... that Shuu guy just didn't hold back at all."

"Oh? I managed to annoy him enough to make him snap at me?" Kirino perks up at that. "Great. I didn't actually think that was possible."

"Please don't rationally analyze the situation in a time like this," Ichino grounds out, annoyed. "I thought my heart was gonna stop there..."

And then Kurama starts with a growl of "you took a Keshin shoot to the fucking head—"

"Shuu's Keshin was freaky," Tenma remembers, unintentionally interrupting, "it looks so scary and strong! And the sword— it's so cool!"

"Tenma," Hamano begins with a winded chuckle, "are you fanboying about the enemy's Keshin right now?"

"But it was cool, right??"

"Yeah. Yeah it absolutely was."

Kirino finds that exchange endearing. "It's fine, Exodus and Brynhildr aren't very lethal against each other," he assures Kurama. "Shuu's very strong, but even if he doesn't want to, Exodus always pulls his punches at the last second, because he's a pacifist."

This earns him various confused stares.

"Even though he looks so scary?" Tenma asks. "And so... evil demon looking?"

"Of course," Kirino says, ignoring Hayami's exclamation of 'we're not addressing how Kirino is psychoanalysing an astral projection? We're not??' to assure, "Keshin are, in the end, a reflection of your own self. Your own ambitions, and your own strength. Sometimes they know you better than you would know yourself, but no matter how far you stray from your own path, they'll always be there for you when you need it."

That wills most of the team to turn toward Ancient Dark, who are seated by their own bench, looking toward the shield with a sort of fascination.

"I just don't get it," Kurumada sighs. "Sometimes it's like we don't need to fight. But we're here anyways."

"They're good people," Amagi groans. "Kind of assholes, kind of smug bastards, but they're not spitefully violent like the other SEEDs we've fought so far."

"Clearly, they're strong, but they knew how to have fun with soccer!" Shinsuke agrees.

Tenma's fists clench. "They play for Fifth, but when we were in the forest, they weren't about victory at all, they wanted us all to have fun playing together and..."

And yet, they're in this situation, because in the end, Fifth controls soccer.

Neither of them want to fight.

"They're almost like Namikawa and the others," Sangoku begrudgingly agrees. "To them, this is a duty they have to fulfill. It's not about whether they like it or not."

And wasn't that depressing.

The battle almost felt pointless. If they lost they would just prove the Fifth's point that soccer needed to be regulated for safety and fairness. But they couldn't possibly win right now.

"Hey now, what's with this dull mood?!" Trainer Zaizen steps over, having come back from the supplies with her purse. "Chins up, boy!"

She holds it out in Akane's direction, and she takes it to retrieve a pair of hair ties, which Hayami then used to tie Kirino's hair back neatly.

"Looking at our situation, it's pretty bleak if I'm honest," Coach Endou begins. "We're outnumbered, I really don't want to put Kirino back in, and Tenma's pretty worn out already."

Tenma winces at that. A full team of Keshin versus just one of them is pretty devastating.

They could argue that they could fight back without Keshin somehow, but it's hard to be confident when they're multiple players down on top of it all.

Coach Endou then beams. "But are we giving up?"

It was like the darkness just sapped away in an instant, because the moment he even verbalized that question, a raw anger rose up in their chests.

And they all yelled, not in synchronicity, but definitely in unison, "hell no!"

"Over my dead fucking body!" Kurama snarls, and along with Hamano's surprisingly blunt "fuck no" and Amagi and Kurumada's similarly colour swears, there was a whiny "Noooo!!! From Hayami and Ichino, and a few determined "NO!"s from Tenma and Shinsuke.

Then there was Sangoku's pittered "hey language, all of y— fine!" he was defeated when even Midori yelled expletives. "I don't want to give up either!"

Coach Endou's grin was proud.

"Then promise me. No matter what happens after this match, no matter the outcome and consequences..." he hit his chest with a trusting fist, "please don't regret it. I want all of you to be proud of what you did to get this far. And if anything happens, put all the blame on me. On us."

"On all of us," Trainer Zaizen says. "All you kids have to do now is finish the match, and play, in a way that you won't regret. That's how we'll win. Okay?"

Kirino can't help but feel his cheeks rise, lips curling wide at their words.

No matter how devastating the situation was, when they said it like that— he just felt like everything would be fine. Even if the world ended, he wanted to believe he could go on.

(And honestly, isn't that what he's always lived for?)

"I can keep playing," Kirino declares, as Kurumada helps him to his feet. "I'm not all that dizzy, anyways."

"Wha— hey now," Coach Endou falters, "I was serious when I said I really don't want you on the field, alright?"

"But I'm Raimon's Ace Defender," Kirino says. "Everyone's worn out, not just me... I can't stay here and leave Tenma alone against the other Keshin users. What kind of senpai would I be?"

Tenma yelps, "wait, senpai, I'm okay! You don't have to..." but his voice falters. As much as it was reckless to have Kirino on the field, he really wouldn't survive out there.

"Don't sell us short!" Kurama reaches over and grabs Kirino's shoulder. "There's a striker on this field, stop acting like we've only got one fighter."

"I'm sorry, I know," Kirino reasons, "but even if Ichino, the ball's stuck around defense most of the time. If I go..."

The score was 6-1 in Ancient Dark's favour. Without Brynhildr, they'll break the double digits, and that would be a surefire loss no matter what they did. They really struggled like hell to even keep it to six at all.

They all knew the right decision was to keep Kirino out of the game, especially with the concussion risk— but that guarantees their losing game.

And it wasn't just him either— Tenma's been the most targeted, and Sangoku's already on his last ropes even if he's holding himself together. Hayami's stamina was never the greatest (he's a sprinter, not a marathoner) and Ichino's brain is running on overdrive just keeping up with the match at all. The halftime break helped, but not much at all.

"Just take a break, Kirino."

For a moment, Kirino had trouble recognizing that voice. Or rather, he recognized it, but something was wrong— in the sense that this voice isn't supposed to be here.

"Yeah, you guys held out pretty damn well considering the odds..." that's—

Kirino spins around when Tenma's face lights up immediately, Shinsuke not far behind as he registers it. Jaws drop around him and Kirino can't turn fast enough.

"Seriously, what did they do to you guys?"

It's Shindou.

He's covered in scratches, some freshly mended, others left as is. Sections of his body is wrapped in bandages thick, muscle patches making odd bumps where they shouldn't be. Kirino can't possibly fathom what they went through, but the assuring smile on Shindou's face and the firm way his eyes run over every single member is telling enough. He's not okay, but he can still go on.

Kirino knows who the other people are beside him, but before he can register their appearances, Tenma and Shinsuke are charging for the one on the right.

Tsurugi goes down with a startled cry and a string of furious expletives.

Minamisawa, on the other hand, has managed to not get bowled over by Kurama before expertly diverting both of them away from the collateral disaster Amagi and Kurumada charging at them could have caused.

Ichino makes a noise at the back of his throat, and Kirino realizes soon that his eyes are watering.

It's like when Grand Celesta Galaxy happened. Kirino remembers this rise of euphoria, this burst of relief, this liberating sensation of 'ah, yes. He's back. You can rest now'. That warms every nerve in hid body like it's a hug from Jeanne.

His next breath is a long heave— and at the end of it, Kirino lets his knees crumble, until he's seated firmly on the ground. The way he dropped elicits a startled call from Shindou, but Kirino raises a fist in return.

"Welcome back," he says. "Your turn to watch the team."

He feels Shindou's fist bump him right back.

"Yeah," Shindou steps forward, toward Ichino— "thanks, Ichino. You did well."

Ichino's voice comes breathily. Like the weight of the world was finally off his shoulders, "it's the least I could do, Captain."

Shindou pulls the strap of the captain's band back around his shoulders, and turns to the team. Minamisawa has Kurama's arm locked around his shoulders as Aoi hands him his hearing aids with a fresh battery, and Tsurugi has managed to shove off Tenma and Shinsuke's worried fussing with a hand at their foreheads keeping them an arm's length away.

"Alright," Shindou turns to Coach Endou. "Sorry for the wait, Coach!"

Coach Endou is leveling Kidou Yuuto with a frustrated, weighted gaze. Nevermind how Kidou even got inside the barrier, he's clearly here to deliver the kids nad has better things to handle on his plate.

The message was clear in the team.

They'll talk later.

"Alright!" Coach declares, "Ichino and Kirino, sub out! Tenma, I want you back in the middle of the field with Shindou. Tsurugi and Minamisawa, I want all three of you up top with Kurama! We're going hyper-offensive, don't hold back!"

"YES, COACH!"

Now, they had a fighting chance.

-

"So, what did you want to say?" Coach Endou turns to Kidou after he let the kids go back on the field. "You haven't looked so annoyed since we met Demonio."

"And how are the mongrels?" Touko adds. "Oh and, where's Haruna?"

"Right," Kidou huffs, a very pointed disappointed parent grunt, and begins. "So I talked to Gouenji about what's going on, and I saw what was happening inside there."

He pauses.

Endou approaches warily, "how bad is it?"

Kidou's arms are crossed in a way that means he's not relaxed, he's physically reminding himself to stop moving his hands so he can think first.

He enlightens, "I'm calculating the cons of how my career will be affected if I get a manslaughter charge on my record."

There's silence.

Touko glances at Endou and then back to Kidou.

Then, "I'll take the blame, go for it!"

"Wait wait wait hold on!" Endou yells, when Kidou doesn't even hesitate to turn and head for Coach Kibayama at the opposing bench, "Kidou Yuuto! Don't make me put Ijigen the Hand up again! I'll put up a stronger one this time, don't think I won't!"

God help, how is Endou the voice of reason right now?

"Where's Otonashi? And Fudou and Ichinose...?" Endou tries to divert the topic, but Kidou freezes at something else.

"You brought Fudou here?"

Silence.

Endou winces, "if anything explodes we don't have to pay for it right...?"

"No, that works fine. I'm going to blow something up with him, Gouenji said he'll accept accountability for that."

"Oh hell no he's enabling it too!" Endou yells.

-

"In my defense, I didn't agree with Kibayama either," the Holy Emperor groans, "Senguuji-san greenlighted all this. I've been frequenting since I found out about it, but with the SEED records so mixed up with all their birth and education records, I can't exactly just throw them all back into society. Especially some of them who have been here their whole lives..."

Haruna skims through the database with a frown, glasses set over her face.

"They say they're looking for the... source of this weird power that destroys the future?" Toramaru still can't believe how that phrase sounds out loud. It sounds like fantasy, and sci-fi, with all the time travelling talk.

"But that's odd," Ichinose says. "If they're from the future, why don't they know exactly who it comes from?"

"The same way we can't accurately pick out the ancestor of birds from all the dinosaurs of history, Kazuya-san," Yuuka said, picking out several books from the top of the shelves and coming down with them to deposit on the table. "They must be pretty far into the future."

Right. Even if they have suspicions, if they're doing such a huge operation, they must be sure it's in this generation— but they have no idea who it is. And they're planning to control all of soccer, where the source thrives most— so they have no qualms about ruining everything the sport stands for in the process.

"All we know right now is that the Keshin have something to do with that power."

"Yeah, those things definitely weren't a thing back when we were in junior high," Ichinose sighs. "And even now in the adult football, only a few can summon Majin."

Endou and Gouenji being two of the few.

It's considered a rare asset in those categories, so it's definitely alarming that more of the new generation can summon them. The SEED system is definitely contributing to it, but it feels like a scary time in history where they're all witnessing rapid evolution of human genetics. It's terrifying.

"Even earlier than that, it was something only Endou Daisuke and anyone he mentored could achieve," Haruna said. "Doesn't that mean the earliest identifiable source would be... then why did they choose to control this generation? Isn't that counterproductive?"

Gouenji frowns at that.

"Supporter X said it was because this generation was the most... accessible."

Because before that, they dealt with Kageyama Reiji. And Aliea Academy. There was no space for El Dorado to interfere when another huge force was already trying to disrupt the soccer dynamics behind the scenes— that could only mean this generation was supposed to be peaceful, thus they chose this generation to ruin.

That's devastating.

Imagine, the hell they went through, the torture Teikoku went through, the irreparable damage Aliea went through— all of that was the only reason they were spared of having the interference of Fifth Sector much earlier.

It's like a bad joke.

"Hey, Gouenji-kun... where's the information on the kid called Shuu?"

Fudou comes into the room with a frown, the kids from Kaiou right behind him. They're still sneaking around now because the guards outnumbered them greatly— but he's already gone around and gotten kids out here and there.

"Shuu?" Gouenji repeats. "Him. He's one of the main reasons I can't just take the kids out and call it a day."

Haruna skims through file after file at a rapid pace.

"He just showed up one day—" Gouenji says. "We didn't scout him, but he's very talented, and thus, Senguuji's kept him around because he's the ideal SEED. The problem is that because he doesn't have any official birth records in our custody, we can't use him in official matches without manipulating the legality like right now. And even then..."

He looks down at the match happening below.

"...I don't know what he's after. And the good thing is, not even Supporter X knows what to make of him. So certainly, he's the main threat right now... and also our best bet against this entire operation here on God Eden."

They can't get anything done without first getting through to Shuu. Most SEEDs are here on parental or familial obligations, indoctrinated routine, and pure pride— but given enough courage and convincing, they could definitely come to see the other perspective.

Shuu, however, doesn't have any expectations. He's here, because he's on the side of whatever will benefit the future.

If there's anyone that won't be swayed by pretty words, it would be Shuu.

But on the other hand, once they get through to Shuu, this will all go smoothly.

"Well first," Haruna says, "I'm going to need all of these physical documents on the first air freight to the mainland. Natsumi-san and Hiroto-kun can take it from there."

"Has Touko said anything from down there?" Gouenji asks.

"Uh," Toramaru begins, checking messages on his phone, "Touko-san just wired Rika-san a billion dollars, what does that mean?"

"It means she's misusing our national funds," Ichinose says.

Fudou laughs. "Easy! It means Urabe's defending us in court if anything happens," he cracks his knuckles, turning back around to the hallway, "so it's GO TIME!"

-

In the seconds before the whistle blew, it was clear to Kurama that neither Tsurugi nor Minamisawa were in tip-top shape for this match. But they were still playing anyway.

"Hey, Minamisawa-kun," Shuu greets him, like a dear friend, and something about that tone makes the hackles at the back of Kurama's neck rise.

"Hey," Minamisawa's voice had a reasoning edge to it that meant he didn't hate Shuu, even if his voice was cold and detached. He spoke like he would to a classmate.

"And you're Hakuryuu's former partner, Tsurugi-kun, right?" Shuu smiles.

Tsurugi was fixing his wristbands when he responded with a scoff, "figured I was demoted from the position. Would never have thought I'd be replaced by a guy like you."

Shuu chuckles, "yes, it was a controversial decision," he says. "No one thought I'd be able to keep up with his competitiveness, but they always say the greatest tool against antagonism is kindness."

Tsurugi actually cracks into a smirk at that. "You annoyed him to the point where he just gave in and tolerated you."

"Yes!" Shuu beams. "It's actually quite satisfying. It was like taming a dragon!"

"I bet it was," Tsurugi grimaces. "Has anyone told you yet that you're kind of... like Tenma?"

Shuu blinks in surprise at that. "Well, no, but..." he actually ponders that remark with amusement. "It does explain a few things."

Kurama finds that entire interaction just unnerving. But that also explained why Kurama hated Shuu at first sight and has been endlessly annoyed since. Shuu just had something about him that put people at ease, and that makes his power so unexpected, and so genuinely terrifying.

Kurama hates things that look harmless at first glance, but clearly hides a sleeping dragon underneath. Call it animal instinct, if you will.

"Kurama-senpai," Tsurugi calls, and he jerks alert because the word 'senpai' just sounds so weird coming out of Tsurugi's mouth.

It sounds wrong. Sure, he's called people with respect before, but there was something so subdued about the way the words formed on his tongue.

Kurama didn't like that.

"Please leave the ball to us, at least to start. We'll have to adapt."

-

Shindou hated to admit it, but the world felt too vibrant right now. Maybe there's a reason God Eden is such a gloomy, darkly decorated stage with the roof closed over their heads. Maybe there's a reason for those visors every SEED in the audience is wearing.

Shindou kind of wanted one, because he can't help but count the second in beats, and hear the rhythm of everyone's footsteps, knowing exactly when to cut in for a steal— it was just wholly unbearable on the field.

But he was the conductor, and the conductor can't be out of time from the music.

The effects of these few days were clear almost immediately. When the kickoff happened, Shindou instantly guessed where Tsurugi would be— but flinched, when he realized Minamisawa was faster than usual.

Something's wrong.

Everyone's tired, but it's like he's conducting a whole different team than usual. Everyone seemed too slow or too off from his beat, and the inclusion of Tenma and Shinsuke was neither disruptive nor fitting. 

(In that room he was taught to conduct SEEDs. He was conditioned to adapt to any player and read them perfectly.)

(But now, it's like he doesn't know a single person on his side of the field.)

(And when he turns around, not even Kirino is around him.)

(It's like he's a stranger, suddenly dropped into this world where everything looks so familiar yet nothing is right, everything is wrong, and he's forced to adapt.)

(It makes him nauseous.)

"Shindou!"

Kurama's yell pierces his frustration and Shindou gasps, missing a pass that gets snatched up by Kai immediately. Shuu blazes past them both, and they all know the defense stands no chance.

"Shindou," Hamano puts a hand on his shoulder. "Just keep your cool, it's fine. Take your time, but not too long. We'll wait."

Shindou feels so hurt by those words.

It's comfort, but it feels belittling. At least the trainers in that SEED room yelled at him and called him names when he messed up.

Everyone's sympathetic right now.

Shindou's lived the last seventy-two hours doing nothing but stand back up again, and he wasn't going to go down now without a fight.

Tenma and Hayami are sprinting for the defense, the only ones that could catch up at this point— and Shindou knew he had to move.

"Get the ball back for us," he says, like it's simple and so obvious.

Hamano freezes, but not in a bad way. The order elicits a curt and genuine, "will do," from him, and a light, excited grin that's almost strangely pleased.

Shindou turns back toward the front of the field. "Kurama, stay here. Minamisawa, with me— and Tsurugi."

Shindou points toward the other goal.

"Wait for us there."

It's said resolutely, without a single shred of doubt.

The three strikers move immediately, "yes, Captain!"

-

Tenma and Hayami's synchronous dash toward the ball is almost mesmerizing. They're running with every bit of their energy, Tenma's footsteps cruising up a fervent gale in the same way Hayami's every step rips through the grass in a clash of green and blue.

Tenma actually realizes he's falling behind, at some point.

He'd never synchronized with Hayami like this before— it was always him being one step behind, with Hayami trying to get away from him. They were never side by side, with the intent trust of heading toward the same goal.

It felt awesome.

Tenma sped up, ignoring his own ability to pace himself, just to keep up— and Hayami's steps didn't falter.

Tenma knows that look of focus.

They both know Hayami's going to crumple instantly the second whatever this is is over. His stamina was already waning halfway through the first half.

Behind them, they finally have a fighting chance.

They can't fail here. They have to do everything to get that ball, now. So Hayami doesn't care if this is his last gambit here— and Tenma understands this with a furor he's never seen from him before.

With a single glance forward— Tenma sees Kurumada, Amagi, and then Shinsuke. All of them have their gazes drift to Hayami for a moment—

—and it's like they resonate with the same thought.

Instead of running toward the ball and Kai, bringing it toward them— Shinsuke and Kurumada spin back and run toward the center of the field, where Amagi stood.

Tenma doesn't look any longer.

"Now,"

Hayami's voice is just above a whisper.

But Tenma reacts so quickly, like he'd prepared his entire life for this moment. He breaks right into his full speed, but even then, he feels like he's slower.

Hayami shred through the space like a gleam of light, Tenma just half a step behind. That shatter of light razes like a beam straight ahead— Tenma follows, crossing over him like he does every morning around those spots on that sidewalk, following the invisible blue tiles into the field.

Kai turns around, alarmed— and falters.

Even if he could avoid the laser headed straight toward him, he stood no chance as Tenma slid in from the side, right between his feet.

The ball soared off loose from his dribble.

"Crap—!" Kai catches his step, but nothing prepares him for the dust that explodes violently, as if a pair of fighter jets had just churned right by him. He's blown right off his feet with a startled yell, just as Hayami's body flings over him and Tenma's rolled out of control to the side.

Hayami lands harshly, unable to stop his own momentum. Tenma curls up and protects his face as he rolls, but the second he caught himself he rose,

"Did we get it—"

"We did!" Hayami wheezes, covered in grass burns and his glasses oft somewhere as he pushes himself up on his elbows, "the ball's loose, get it!"

"Not so soon! Just because you guys got your members back doesn't mean we'll be giving you guys a chance to take the momentum."

Shuu scoops it up, having turned around from his path toward the goal, He runs right toward the still-airborne ball, and runs right up with a yell. The telltale black wisps swirl into the ball before the arrives—

—and when his foot connects, "Black Ash!"

It shoots forward.

Amagi punches his fist together with a steel-sounding clang, and he roars.

"VIVA! THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA!"

A wall of brick rose just as Kurumada and Shinsuke stepped on the rising platform, and it ascends, rapidly spiralling skyward.

At the peak Shinsuke leaps, descending briefly toward Kurumada's arm— Kurumada riles up a fist, and with a punch, he launches Shinsuke downward with all the might of gravity and Mother Nature itself.

Shinsuke meets the ball headfirst with a feral grunt of teeth.

With a cry he's blown aside, and the ball continues onward, impacting the tower as Amagi holds on. The ball shatters the tower in seconds, though, noticeably— the black energy around it has dissipated considerably.

Noticing this, Shuu's eyes widen.

It's still got all the force of a SEED's kick power in it. In another timeline perhaps, that would still be too much for Sangoku. Shuu's strength is nothing to scoff at, especially for someone who hasn't even scraped the surface of his Keshin's capabilities just yet.

But with a sort of miserable excitement, Shuu found himself hoping.

Raimon always defies all odds. He's loved seeing them defy odds, that's why— will they score another goal today? It's impossible to fathom.

And yet, Shuu knew that if he saw this full-throttle of determination send the ball back forward, he would be so happy, he wouldn't know what to do next.

Sangoku slaps his hands together with a force loud and clear.

The raging, dark red churn of Majin energy gathers in his hands, and he brings them forward with a resolution.

"Unassisted Hand!"

Shuu heard the ball bounce back before he saw it. He felt the way Sangoku caught and kicked the ball long across the field instead of hearing it.

It was as if Hamano rose from the ocean depths as he launched up the field and caught it. Unhindered, he snatches it between his knees, followed the momentum into the air in a somersault. He lands on his hands, maneuvering right past the next steal that comes his way as he hops back onto his feet.

Then,

"Shindou!"

The ball has a clear path to the gamemaker, and Shuu knew that this was where Ancient Dark would start losing. And unlike Raimon, there would be no miraculous comeback from them.

(And he was so, so enthused by it.)

(Because finally, finally... finally, Raimon's here.)

-

Shindou clutches the captain's band at his shoulder. It's warm, worn by Kirino and Ichino in his absence— and it feels wrong, too.

(But it's home, and home can be odd sometimes, but it's never wrong.)

Looking toward the bench, Kirino's seated, but Ichino is standing beside the coach, a fist raised forward in a sign of trust. Shindou nods back.

He'll take this baton pass from one point to the next.

Raising his arms and taking a breath, he wills the astral beast within him to count down with him. On a one, two—

"Let's begin, Instrumentalist Maestro."

-

It was like the air shifted, and a whole other score began at once. If what played before now was a tragedy, now, the air shifted into a symphony of a gallant counterattack.

Kirino felt his soul sing with its tune.

His hands naturally curl into a prayer, and seeing that, Ichino found himself fidgeting too. Sitting down beside Kirino, knowing the both of them won't be on the field anymore for this match, knowing they've done all they could—

—is it really all they could do now?

Ichino's hands fold into a prayer. Sitting beside Kirino, they watched the ball run through the field to the windup of God's Baton. The ball connects from Kurama to Minamisawa, back to Shindou— and then, like it was meant to be, the ball goes high and long.

Tsurugi winds up high into a bicycle kick, and ignoring all the defenders the ball spears through the rest of the field— The goalkeeper stood no chance, and the whistle of the score changing was momentous.

Kirino heard nothing until Aoi and Midori rips into a victorious scream, Aoi launching herself at Akane for a hug as Coach Endou punches the air with a bright grin.

This was a goal scored with every single one of them. That was undeniable.

In Kirino's eyes, the flag that promised victory fluttered strong in the wind, hallmark by the single V sign Shindou pointed his way with a promising smile.

The score read a pathetic yet so beautiful 6 to 2 at the start of the second half, yet, Kirino has never felt more assured in victory in his life. And he was grateful, because maybe in this moment, every timeline along their path resonated with them, lending them the power to make a miracle happen. 

A miracle to save soccer once again.