25. the reason the flames burn (the warmth of pride)

There's a reason for every role on a soccer field. 

The goalkeeper ensures that the team has a reason to keep playing, while the defenders support him the entire way. The midfielders bring the momentum forward, and the strikers make sure they all go out with a bang.

Minamisawa Atsushi, Raimon's Ace Striker, is tired of being outshone on his own centre stage.

-

-

-

To say chaos ensued would be an understatement.

With every camera in the vicinity pointed at the drama, including the currently most viral livestream on Meme Dorado (Akane, please, stop recording,) the entire world pretty much blew up at the sight of the Legendary Endou Mamoru deciding that enough is enough.

Security ran in to secure the area— or, they tried to.

"Safety Protect!"

Touko plants her feet before them, translucent rows of iron riot shields rising behind her and far overhead, shielding Endou and Kibayama from view of both the cameras and the audience. It surrounds them, a wall closing in all exits except far above.

Touko levels the security guards and God Eden Trainers with an unimpressed stare.

"What are you— you're just leaving them in there unaccounted for?!"

"Move, woman!"

"You can't do this!"

"We have to separate them before either of them gets hurt!"

"Oh?" Touko crosses her arms comfortably, resting her weight on a leg as she smirks. "Why not? I thought violence and abuse behind closed doors was totally fine?"

They hiss, "we are not abusing the children in this facility! But what Endou Mamoru is doing now is definitely senseless violence!"

"The children want to be here, we are training them to become SEEDs! You can't just call it abuse to justify your actions!"

"That video is misconstrued and should not be taken as evidence!"

"Misconstrued?" Touko challenges. "Kibayama hitting children is hearsay, huh? Then Endou punching Kibayama was a friendly gesture. He greets all new people like that, with a God Hand to the face. You can ask Tachimukai Yuuki and Rococo Ulpa for first-hand accounts."

"You cannot be serious—"

"That was a FIST, though?!"

"What?!" Touko returns with a similar tone, gasping in dramatic horror, "you've never seen the legendary Fist of Justice before? Sacrilegious, do you even PLAY football?"

Then her face wrinkles into a sarcastic smug grin.

"Oooh riiiiiight," she drags her words obnoxiously, "you guys don't really care for football, huh? You just like shoving children around and yelling at them, then calling it training."

"You fucking bitch—!!"

"You're getting way too comfortable saying whatever you want! You're just some rich spoilt brat who hasn't had a taste of the real world because your fucking daddy keeps protecting you!"

"And?" Touko's smile doesn't falter. "What are you gonna do, punch me too?" she chuckles, then she sticks her tongue out and makes an annoying cutesy voice, "oh noo, what will my daddy do if he hears about it?"

"YOU—!!"

She dodges the hand that grabs at her, swerving high with the heel of her boot to plant the sole in the man's cheekbone, taking him down.

"Oh no," she feigns, "you want a taste of the real world? Let me tell all the good boys and girls out there listening," she turns to Akane, who is still recording despite Sangoku's posture of despair after failing to retrieve the camera. "Out here in the world of adulthood, money is everything, and morality is a lie! Come see me in court if you dare."

And that's when the crowd erupts, against expectations— in cheers.

It was like the ice had suddenly shattered around their shock, and the fact that someone was giving the adult Trainers here a taste of their own medicine was finally sinking in. And they responded, loud and uproarious.

Someone even throws their visor down, and then more and more come.

"YES!!!"

"HOLY SHIT IS THIS HAPPENING?!"

"HIT HIM AGAIN!"

"GO FUCKING DIE, KIBAYAMA!"

Touko luxuriates in this wonderful madness. She spreads her arms out and beams at the security guard and God Eden Trainers that look shellshocked to be betrayed by their own students all at once.

"You ungrateful—"

"Fucking brats! They've learned nothing!"'

"After all we've done for them?!"

"Go up there and shut them up!' one yells to the security guard, who mobilise and head toward the exit to the waiting rooms and where there were stairs to go up to the audience—

—but Touko lifts her hands to swirls of blue and green, and the earth rises.

"THE WALL!"

A wall rises around the perimeters of the field, blocking off every single exit from this field, trapping every person insides its enclosure. She's blocked off the stairs, too, so since the wall is completely seamless to the shape of the field, there's no hope of getting any help from outside.

"Now, now, gentlemen," Touko soothes, "You've got to understand I'm a defender. You ain't getting to anyone, much less the goalkeeper, until you get through me."

The sounds of cheering continue to reverberate through the stadium.

-

It surprisingly didn't take much longer for Endou to knock on the Safety Protect and Touko to lower the shields, revealing the Coaches, one looking considerably paler than before and the other beaming brightly as if he were absolutely refreshed with a weight of the world finally off his shoulders.

"Hey didn't he knock Kibayama out just now?" Ichino whispers.

Shindou looks away, eyes closed. "Shh. There's three bruises now. Don't ask."

Kurama winces. "Did he knock him back awake? Oh wow I wish I could've seen that."

"Kurama!" Sangoku hisses.

"Ohh, hey," Endou salutes at the kids who are looking at them with anticipation and bafflement. Then, pointing in exasperation, "Yamana, what did I say about livestreaming in the middle of important matches?"

Akane's eyes twinkle with mischief, "only when I can use it for future strategy planning. This is going in the history albums upstairs in the club building, I can't not record."

"Akane," Shindou sounds exasperated and defeated.

"Is she wrong though?" Hamano chuckles.

"Wait," Kai pipes up from the other team, unable to hold back anymore, "you guys have a club building?"

"Kai," his team hisses flustered at him, "Coach Kibayama is staring Kai, Kai—"

Sure enough, Coach Kibayama was giving Kai the stink eye of nightmares the second he did anything except look at the ground waiting to be addressed. Kai, however, was much too preoccupied by the aspect of unnecessary luxury to care.

"YEAH!" Tenma exclaims, just as Shinsuke scales him in three seconds and synchronously shriek 'YEAH' at their faces, earning discombobulated yelps, "the Raimon soccer club has a building, it is SO cool. After this match wanna come? It'll be like a field trip!"

"We can??" Kai's fascinated.

"You—!!" Coach Kibayama takes a furious step forward, and Kai violently flinches back while Shuu puts an instinctive protective hand between them. "It seems the moment I've looked away, you've forgotten basic respect!"

"Now, now," Coach Endou sets a hand on Coach Kibayama's shoulder, earning a jump as the coach falls immediately silent, body freezing instantly.

Coach Endou smiles, stepping forward and holding a hand out before the teams.

"Of course you kids can come by Raimon after this match. But first," he claps twice for attention, as if all eyes in the world weren't already on him, "Coach Kibayama and I had a nice long conversation. And we agreed that from this point on, the coaches are going to stay out of the match entirely!"

He reports, like splendid news.

And it's as if everyone could breathe again, all of a sudden— because it was.

"Wait... completely?" Sangoku asks first.

Hayami, who was on the bench, gapes, "like, laissez-faire and everything? We're free to do whatever we want?"

To which the managers looked at each other, flustered, "wait, that means it's up to us?"

"Yes!" Coach Endou grins, beckoning the referee and someone with a communicator to the announcers. "The both of us are going to be watching. You kids can do anything— change positions, test out untrained strategies— anything! Have fun for the last quarter of this match! We decided that's the best way to truly test out which team is truly the better team, didn't we, Coach Kibayama?"

He turns to Coach Kibayama at the last word, and the man takes a wary step back.

Coach Kibayama clicks his tongue, looking away, muttering under his breath. "You won't get away with this."

Coach Endou's smile is as stable as the astral planets as he declares, "he agrees!" happily, "so, that's the story, kids. Go out there and have as much fun as you want, go give it your all, and whoever wins at the end of the game, it's no hard feelings!"

-

Somehow, that was just... well, that.

With Coach Kibayama splendidly subdued, the walls still up, and the teams left to their own devices— the referee found himself starting the match again.

As players filed back onto the field, Kirino found himself looking at Shuu again.

"I guess this is it for now," Shuu says. They were still in earshot of Endou and Midori, but they didn't pay it any mind.

Kirino hums.

It didn't matter if Raimon won or lost this game. Endou has made a stance very frighteningly clear in the national feed, and the world will, inevitably after this match, dissolve into one of the greatest train wrecks the soccer world will have seen yet.

There's nothing they can do to stop it now. All that's left is for the two teams to enjoy their limited time left here, because it's the last fun they'll have in a while.

"We need to talk," Kirino prompts, sincerely.

Shuu hums back, this time. "After the match. You deserve to know."

When Shuu walks away, Kirino can't follow. Because his feet are still numb, and he truly, deeply, wants to know why, too.

-

"Minamisawa," Kirino catches his attention. With a little hesitation he says, "I won't ask you if you're okay but... do you need a little help?"

Minamisawa proceeds to grimace. "I'm fine."

Kirino chuckles at that. That's very fair, he didn't exactly expect MInamisawa to divulge his problems with feelings or difficulties, especially not with his underclassman. He was just too prideful like that.

But he still asked, anyway. Going through SEED training against his will... it's not something Kirino would wish on anyone. Minamisawa hated things like those. He was always someone that went against the desire for a military order, and that was why Gassan Kunimitsu became perfect for him after they broke through their mould.

"You know," Kirino begins, carefully, "I wasn't trying to summon Brynhildr, the first time I did. I didn't think I could do anything right— I always just thought I was falling behind everyone else, stuck in everyone's shadow. But once I realized I'll always have a place here with everyone, I just knew she was there. So I called... and she responded."

Minamisawa frowns.

"That time during Teikoku wasn't the first time, was it?" he questions.

Kirino hums. "No, it wasn't."

A Keshin is something so visceral to each person. It's a cry from deep in the soul, to become something more than what they are now. A manifestation of a will that's only realized on the field.

(They've seen the video. They know. Minamisawa's head still rings, from dueling against Shuu, forced to surpass his limits or be labeled as a defect.)

(Minamisawa's prideful, strong, and confident. He's not letting it show how much the days have affected him, because he won't let weaknesses like these show. He won't tell everyone he's hurt or weakened, because he's not a child.)

(He hasn't been a child, he's never been. He wasn't raised to be one. He was always someone who was efficient, practical, and never stepped out of the realm of rationality. That's why he quit Raimon last time.)

(This time, he didn't. This time, he stayed, giving in to his own sincere emotions and staying here, even though it made no sense to risk everything and stay.)

(That's probably also why this time...)

"Hey, Kirino... the number ten is pretty damn heavy, isn't it?"

Minamisawa broods over this as he looks over the field, and then to the opposing bench, where Shuu notices him and smiles. This action elicits something that's the equivalent of a growl from Kurama as he hisses and stands between them, snarling.

Kirino supposes it is. "It's very heavy. Everyone's looking at you. It's a good position, isn't it? Less so than the captain, the gamemaker, or even the goalkeeper— people are always looking at the Ace Striker, because he's the star of the show."

It's the best position to be in if you want a good record. You're featured in magazines if you make it big, and you're always the coolest in people's eyes. Especially with the legacy of strikers in Raimon spearheaded by the Flame Striker, there's no way he wouldn't stand out as some kind of spiritual inheritor to expectations.

"I'm so sick of it."

Minamisawa admits that bitterly.

"It's so annoying. I just want to play some soccer, but here we are, in the middle of a revolution, in the center of some spartan training regime meant for superhumans, and me? I'm pitted against those insane SEEDs just because I'm wearing this stupid number. I'm so tired."

He can't even escape. His feet can bring him so far, but it's never far enough. It's too late now, now that he's already defied his parents once, gotten signed off to SEED Training against his will, and right in the middle of El Dorado's core schemes.

Kirino hums.

"Isn't that good?" he says. "You're going to be one of the core reasons this revolution succeeds. Because of the footage you gave us, I'm sure people's minds can still be changed even after that press conference from Fifth Sector. We'll definitely get soccer back, and it's because you revived our chances, you know?"

Minamisawa scoffs at that. "I just did that out of spite for my parents."

"And that's perfect."

"Huh?"

Spite is the perfect motivator for Minamisawa. No matter how much he complains about something, or claims he'd hate to stick his neck out more than necessary, or he'd give up quickly for the sake of peace— but he still hates to lose.

Fifth Sector made a mistake taking him for their SEED cultivation plan, because if there's someone that will never be beaten down into submission, it's Minamisawa.

Tsurugi can be manipulated with his brother as a bargaining chip. Shindou can be pressured into things he doesn't want to do. But MInamisawa?

Minamisawa endures and comes back stronger. He never stays down.

If Kurama fights back the second he's threatened, Minamisawa holds a grudge and destroys you when you've let your guard down. He's patient, and always burning with the anger stifled deep within himself.

He's been raised in a family of expectations and discipline. He holds grudges and rebels more violently than anyone else.

Kirino lets the smirk grow on his face, "you know, Minamisawa-san. You're not the kind to yell at others for not doing as well as they can. You're the kind that'll go at it all three times harder, and wait for them to catch up. If they don't, you leave them behind."

Minamisawa glances at Kurama again.

He's hissing at Shuu now, Kurumada and Amagi sizing them all up from the other end of the bench. Shuu's smiling back, but now Kai and the rest of Ancient Dark are hissing back like cats fighting for territory. Sangoku's going to hold him back and Shindou's heading over to keep the peace.

"You do that best, you know," Kirino says. "You lead by example. You're not like Shindou, who directs everyone with empathy and understanding, or Ichino, who makes sure no one is left behind. You're not like me either, who stands between everyone to hold the fort's balance. You lead at the front, and you're always a little frustrated when we're not as fast as you'd like."

Minamisawa frowns, and says nothing.

He'd yelled at Kurama just now— and that was a mistake, definitely. It wasn't like him at all, but the stress of the few days had caught up to him and burst out at the seams. He couldn't handle it anymore— after days of being thrust into the reality of how inferior he is to anyone else, he hated the idea of still being too fast for the others on his team, and it all surfaced as he yelled at Kurama for the first time out of true frustration.

It wasn't like him.

"Everyone watches you, and they can't help but follow your determination," Kirino tells him. "It's different from Tenma, who's just so fast we can't help but turn to where the wind leads. You lead us forward, Minamisawa, and Raimon can't soar the same way without you at the front."

There's a reason everything started fully crumbling after Minamisawa left. Before Tenma became the new core of the team last time, Minamisawa was their strongest gear, and his leaving shattered everything else. That's why they had to build the team from the ground up again, last time around.

And it's another reason why everyone just understood when Gassan Kunimitsu came around, turning with Minamisawa at their lead. He was always meant for a spot near the front— Minamisawa just couldn't bear the pressure of his spot in Raimon, but Gassan Kunimitsu got him out of his shell to become who he was meant to be.

Maybe, this time, the SEED facility did one thing right.

"Alright, that's enough out of you," Minamisawa grumbles, getting up and taking the water bottle from Akane. He gives Kirino a wry smile, "if you already knew what to say, then maybe next time, skip the sap and save it for someone who's capable of emoting."

Kirino bursts out into laughter at that.

"Where's my thank you?" he teases.

Minamisawa points at the scoreboard, a small smile adorning the edge of his lips. "Wait for the three whistles and look up there."

-

The second half finally restarts, and the air's different.

With 4-3 on the scoreboard and just about fifteen minutes left on the clock, they were going to make the most of the freedom Coach Endou managed to get them.

It was definitely unnerving, the way Shindou would look toward the bench and realize their coach had no intention of even getting up from the bench. He was sipping on a drink that Akane poured for him.

Kirino was just a little uncomfortable with the development, but he supposed things were fine like this. He couldn't help but let his mind wander to Shuu again, though.

They'd talk after this. And Kirino will finally get the answers he's been looking for.

(Is it pathetic that he's kind of scared to know?)

But it really is odd. Asurei Rune helped with the God Eden project to find the origin of the Second Stage Children— which, though they've never managed to pinpoint the most accurate source, the consensus back then was that in this generation, it would be Tenma. The only player that managed to evolve both his Keshin and Soul in this era.

In that case, wouldn't they already have that knowledge, from the Core Timeline?

Why did they build God Eden in this timeline? Why are they still continuing their activities? Is it to maintain the balance of the world and the flow of events? In that case, why isn't Hakuryuu here? And why did they capture Minamisawa and Shindou at the start?

Things were changing, and yes, Kirino had a hand in it— but that made it hard to justify the things Fifth Sector were doing.

It's like they're a hodgepodge, just patching up the situation as they go. As if... as if they didn't know about the mistakes and lessons of the Core Timeline, and thus, they're just as blind as Kirino is when it comes to each others' actions.

(And that thought terrifies him.)

(Has Kirino somehow become the only thing in Ragnarok's way?)

He named the radio El Dorado as a joke. Because the timeline's consequences always sorted itself out eventually— that was how the timeline worked. No matter how hard you shake the basket, things would eventually settle on their own and have its marks in history.

But now, Kirino had to confront the fact that this timeline was of his own making, and when it comes to the future, there's a high chance no one's on his side.

-

The match begins anew— and it's easy to tell who immediately loves the new rules.

Tenma gets the ball from the forwards and— right away, he's charging ahead. He gets past Ancient Dark one after another, most of them still frazzled by the turn of events— and goes even further ahead.

"What the— how is he—"

"HEY TENMA!" Sangoku is first to snap out of it all, "STOP HOGGING THE BALL!"

Ichino is ripped out of his trance too, wailing, "and stay in formation! HEY!"

Like a chain reaction, Shindou is next. "WHY ARE YOU IN FRONT OF THE FORWARDS?! GET BACK HERE!"

Kurumada bursts out laughing. "Alright then! FREE FOR ALL, BOYS!"

"Huh?!" Shinsuke sputters as Amagi does a warcry and charges to the front, "what about the goal? The defense line— GUYS?? SENPAI??" He's near tears when Hamano salutes and goes away, "don't leave me here!!" he's going up too.

"Oh you're just going to abandon me?" Sangoku groans, arms folded.

"Uhm, I'm still here if that's any assurance," Ichino tries.

"You can go too, you unfilial children," Sangoku sounds very bitter.

"I honestly would if my legs weren't shaking," Ichino says. "I tried taking a step just now and my ankle just gave in on me for a second. I got back up but like. Yeah, no."

"Go sit on the BENCH!" Sangoku snarls.

"We have no more subs!" Ichino wails, covering his head like Sangoku would've thrown a bottle at him all the way from the goalpost. To be fair, the keeper has thrown balls clear across the field before. That guy can aim pretty damn well.

Tenma laughs, "it's soccer! Everyone's gotta put in the work!" he spins around another midfielder, and comes face to face with Shuu. His grin widens.

Shuu smiles, like he's meeting an old friend.

When their feet exchange between the ball, it's like a dance. A swerve to the right, a fake to the left, a slide— countered by a hop— Shuu's ankle catches the ball in the middle of a bounce, interrupting its trajectory to Tenma's knee. His heel hooks it to his side as Tenma gasps.

"Better luck next time!" Shuu teases as he takes the ball on a stride.

Tenma whined, giving chase, "I'm not done just yet!"

"Oh dear, already?" Shuu chuckles, endeared when he realizes Tenma is right behind him, "as expected, you're scary fast sometimes. In that case— Kai!"

Shuu's long pass goes toward the center. Kai and Shinsuke leap for it at the same time, and they reach nearly the same height.

"Hey now!"

In a spindle of somersaults, the foot that reaches right between their headers belongs to Hamano. He snatches the ball between his feet, like he's surfing in mid-air— and lands on his hands with a laugh.

"This side is the midfielder's territory!"

"Gah!" Shinsuke balks, "that's unfair! You can't jump higher than me, that's my thing!"

"Oh come on," Kai sighs. "Don't forget you're in our defender territory now!"

Hamano was not prepared for the No Escape that knocked him right on his back. But the ball's back on Ancient Dark's side again.

"Awh man, I'm really bad against bulky defenders," Hamano groans,

"Too bad," the aforementioned bulky defender held out a hand to help him up, "but it's your fault for coming this far into our side."

Hamano grins, "next time I'll dodge!"

"Also, sick flips, dude, you skateboard?"

"No? I cracked my head open one time when I was a kid and Hayami hasn't allowed me to try since. I can surfboard and iceboard, though."

"DASH TRAAAIIIINNNN!!!"

"AAAHHHHH!!! I'M SORRY, I'LL GIVE YOU THE BALL! I'LL GIVE YOU THE BALL I SWEAR DON'T COME AT ME AAAHHH!! I DON'T HAVE THE BALL ANYMORE IT'S OVER THERE GO OVER THERE PLEASE!"

It's an exasperating sight, Kurumada terrorizing the smallest of Ancient Dark. The poor guy really did leave the ball behind and start sprinting for his life. This gives Ichino ample time to jog up to it and carefully slide it to Shindou nearby. It's a weak pass, but everyone's too flabbergasted and no one's in his way.

"Hey! Run sideways! He's like an avalanche, he only goes one direction," Shindou hollers to the poor kid.

"VIVA! GREAT WALL OF CHINNAAA!! HAHAHAHA!!" shrieking ensues as the two bulkiest of Raimon terrorize a child. He's banging on the wall for mercy.

"AMAGI! NO!" Sangoku's yelling falls on deaf ears. "KURUMADA I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!" Amagi's gloating laughter grows more evil.

"IIIIIICAAAANNOoooTsssSTOOOOOOPPP!!!"

"Stop terrorizing him! HEY!"

"Iron Horse Warrior— Knight!"

A Keshin slams a lance down on the wall, shattering it to pieces. The poor sod is rescued by his teammate, and they hug like long-lost lovers in a warzone.

"OI!" Amagi screeches from the rubble, "THAT COULD'VE KILLED ME!"

"You deserved that," Shindou deems.

"That was totally your fault," Ichino nods.

"Are you my teammates or not?!" Amagi protests.

"I'm not that far gone!" Shindou snaps. Necessarily he insists, "contrary to popular belief, I still have SOME semblance of sanity left in me!"

To which Tsurugi grouses, "none of you are sane."

"Ooh! I managed to stop!" Kurumada celebrates from the debris, even though he's covered in wall dust. "I've never tried running straight into Amagi's wall of china before. I should probably do it more often."

"I'm sorry, but have you ever heard of a concussion?" Ancient Dark's defender evokes, fully in bafflement.

"DUDE!" one of the midfielders from Ancient Dark is very flustered about Kurumada, "you're bleeding! Like, really badly! Ref! Whistle?!? Why aren't you stopping the— MEDIC! This guy's bleeding!! Hello??"

"Guys, stop!" Hayami wails from the bench, "at this point we're starting to look like the evil team in the situation!"

"Hey now," the Ancient Dark benchwarmer deadpans from their side of the field, "just because we're called Ancient Dark doesn't mean we're evil. That's like racist or something."

"I'M SORRY!" Hayami screams.

"Hayami, they're not being serious," Kirino assures him. Then he hollers, "please don't bully this guy, he can't take a joke."

"My bad!" comes the response.

"GO KILL THEM ALLLLL!!!" Midori hoots, lightsticks in hand, "MURDERRRR!!!"

Aoi, meanwhile, has grabbed the first aid kit and scampered for Kurumada. "Senpai, I swear, I am MAKING you go see a brain doctor after this!"

Akane takes a picture of Coach Endou's face as Trainer Zaizen loses her shit laughing.

"...yeah, that's somehow worse than I expected," Coach Endou considers, and decides that he wants nothing to do with this. He's washed his hands off this situation. It's not his problem anymore. "Uhm, Yamana. Real question here, is it true that half of the third years here got suspended at some point last year?"

"Not half of them, all of them. Why do you think the principal was so eager to get rid of us? Our first team's soccer skills are the only thing between them and expulsion," Akane doesn't even miss a beat, though she's mildly amused by the comments in the livestream that flooded in from that sentence. "Even Minamisawa-senpai, but to be fair to him, that was honestly Kurama's fault."

"I HEARD THAT, BITCH!" Kurama howls from the center of the field.

"All Minamisawa-senpai did was hide the evidence, technically it was all Kurama's doing," Akane says. And she just stops the sentence there. "They got suspended without proof, but that's because the Vice Chairman actually saw it happen."

"I'm sorry," Trainer Zaizen has to ask, "hide the evidence? To what?"

Akane nods grimly. "Exactly."

Needless to say, Coach Endou and Trainer Zaizen were a little too afraid to ask more.

Finally, the ball is back with Tenma. He cheers as he receives it, though Shindou looked positively miffed that he was the only one that was free. Just as everyone thought he'd hog the ball again—

—Tenma froze.

"Alright, that's far enough," Minamisawa grouses, his voice suddenly much too close to Tenma for his comfort. "Mine now."

Tenma actually yelped and jerked back, stumbling in a lame heap of utter shock— allowing the ball to easily reach Minamisawa's foot. "What— when did you get here?!"

Minamisawa adjusts the hearing aid on his left side, "this part of the field is the domain of us, the strikers," he flicks Tenma in the forehead. "You just sit there and watch."

Minamisawa rolls the ball back, and Tsurugi scoops it up. Tsurugi makes it a few paces before he passes to Kurama near the center, and slides behind one of the defenders to the other end of the field. The three strikers go onward— leaving Tenma in the dust.

Tenma couldn't help but squeak. "What the hell, he's so cool."

-

As much as Minamisawa found the sight of his juniors raiding the field and making a mess of it hilarious— he was, in the end, prideful to a fault. He wasn't a fan of watching the midfielders dominate the pace of the game.

In Raimon, everyone had their eyes on Shindou— the playmaker, the conductor— no one could ever take their eyes off him. Kirino didn't stand out as much, but he was also a central point of command. If there was anything he always had to hear about Raimon— it was the fact that before Tsurugi, their strikers weren't really outstanding in comparison.

They were a team with a solid defensive line and a great momentum of chemistry with its midfielders. The strikers are good, but nothing remarkable compared to Teikoku or even Kaiou, which boasted great offensive power.

Raimon was balanced and consistent, that's all.

(Minamisawa hated hearing all this, because all it meant was that he was mediocre. And he hated it even more because they were right.)

If Tsurugi hadn't joined the team and miraculously turncoated, they wouldn't have ever made it this far.

(And Minamisawa, despite tolerating him enough to actually pass to him now, still hated his fucking guts. The fact that Tsurugi was growing some politeness and respect for his seniors only annoyed Minamisawa even more.)

The number ten for Raimon Soccer Club belongs to him. Him, Minamisawa. He's the ace striker. The area around the opposing goal is meant to be his dominion. He's the core of the attack, not Tsurugi— or, that's how it's supposed to be.

It's not Tsurugi's, not Shindou's, and definitely not Kirino's— so why doesn't anyone understand that? (What does he have to do to make everyone realize this side of the field is his territory?)

The anger and irritation in his chest boils, and boils— and honestly, it's been nauseating since he's entered this damn place. He's not weak, and yet, the past few days have been nothing but reminders of how much he lacks. He didn't sign up for any of this hardship— he never wanted to be the greatest soccer player in the world or anything. All he ever wanted was to do whatever he wanted freely without his parents' expectations weighing him down, so why does he have to be subjected to all this?

(And why, even after all that, does he still come back to soccer? Why, even after all that, does he not want to accept the fact that he's weaker than his peers?)

He won't accept it. He's not going to lose, dammit!

He's sick of being the average player on the team. And if this anger isn't the answer to his questions, then maybe he'll just have to make it so.

He just has to channel this anger into his feet, and maybe he'll just let it bubble over into a boil. Maybe he'll just let this magmatic energy inside him erupt, and if there are consequences—

—then well, it's not like his situation can get any worse.

"Fucking bring it on, whatever the hell!" he snaps, teeth grinding into his jaws. For a second he catches the sight of something purple wrapping over his arms— but he dismisses it. He's tired. "Tsurugi!"

Tsurugi's eyes widen.

The centering Tsurugi gives him goes high— higher over his head than Minamisawa expects it to be, and that irritates him even more. He's always had the second lowest jump height in the team, and that pass seemed like utter mockery. Kurama wouldn't make that mistake.

But he'll chew out the damn junior later.

First— he'll jump. And he'll receive that stupid, shitty pass if nothing else. He's not going to let that be the reason this momentum fails.

He just needs to jump.

No, just once, today, right now— he needs to fly.

"GO!"

Minamisawa is wrenched out of it all by that voice. Tsurugi's voice– -sounding more desperate and resolved than ever, directed at him of all people.

"Don't think about it— just GO!"

And Minsamisawa hesitates, finally, painfully aware of himself— until he realizes that right behind him there's a heat of determination that's more confident in him than he'll ever feel about himself.

Kurama's behind him.

Oh.

No matter what happens, it'll be okay.

Minamisawa clutches his chest and lets it rip, "I'm doing it whether you tell me to or not!" he shouts, and he feels it— the liberation, the power, surging through his very veins, erupting in a burst of great purple haze, forming into a strength that's so overwhelming, yet so comforting, he can't deny the lift in his heart.

The wings spread, bright red and gallant.

He knows his name, somehow— it's like he's always known.

"Sovereign of the Skies— Houou!"

-

Minamisawa doesn't register the shrieking that explodes around him. Doesn't catch the mad laughter roaring from several of his fellow third years. He barely notices his teammates going utterly feral about this development. He can't find amusement in the way Ancient Dark's goalkeeper looks scared shitless, or how the defenders look gobsmacked. He can't appreciate any of this.

Because internally, all he can think is,

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit oh my god holyshitfuckwhatthehelljust—

He had no idea what to do. How to handle it. It's overwhelming, in a terrifying way, and this sense of empty fear makes him lose his grasp on what little he had of control—

"Not yet!" That's Shindou's voice. He seems to be the first to recompose himself, "not yet! Keep going!"

"Fly! You can do it!" The next to realize what's happening is Tenma— predictable. The Keshin users know this struggle, they've managed to overcome it already.

That's bizarrely distracting. Keep going? You can do it— do what? He's never felt this before, he has no idea how to keep doing whatever the hell he's managed to achieve. However he can definitely feel himself losing hold, Houou faltering with his self-confidence.

Minamisawa's eyes catch Kirino's at the bench— the Ace Defender is clutching his chest, a look of resolve and anxiety that just doesn't sit well with Minamisawa right now.

There you go again, worrying about other people.

And Minamisawa remembers that he's here to prove himself. So fuck it, he's not going to crumble here. He'll make it through this shot, whether he's in pieces at the end of it or not. And if Houou won't listen to him, he'll dominate this field on his own.

"Hey buddy, need a lift?"

As usual, the whisper of Kurama's voice behind him is chilling, the way he slithers up to you like a snake, quiet and unnoticed— yet inevitable, a predator.

Minamisawa feels the lift in his footing before he even registers all that, though— a giant serpent, emerging from the ground with a hiss, and though he's touched Snake-God-sama several times before, he's never truly been on it before.

...he has a feeling that Snake God-sama was not this big before.

"C'mon, baby bird," Kurama teases, and Minamisawa looks back just in time to see that obnoxious, competitive, smug grin on his face, "you know how they teach younglings to fly for the first time."

Oh you little shit, I'll get you for this later.

But instead of feeling irritated, Minamisawa's enthused. This is exactly what he needs— a boost off his feet, a momentum to follow up on— he feels his grasp on Houou tighten once again. He knows it's not anything near mastery, but it's enough.

Sidewinder takes him surging past the Defenders, and Minamisawa can't help but laugh. This felt great. This felt awesome, actually, and he can't believe he'd ever thought soccer was just something to pass the time.

How's he ever going to live without this feeling? He doesn't know.

But right now, he feels like he can do anything.

So even when Sidewinder takes him high, and high— and drops him, he doesn't falter. He knows what to do, and Houou are the only wings he needs. He launches the ball toward the goal, feeling his Keshin shroud it in flames.

He already knows. Even though it's incomplete, it'll break so easily past the goalkeeper's hissatsu it'll be like he wasn't even there.

When he lands, a semblance of wings behind his arms— it's light, a gentle descent that defies all he's ever understood about gravity and heights. He feels Houou fade right after it, and with him— all of the energy in his limbs.

The fact that he's crumbled onto the field is less jarring than the ear-shattering shriek that resounds through the entire stadium, though. The whistle is blowing but even the referee is so discomposed he can't get the long whistle out and has to keep trying.

The commentator is a blubbering mess, Kurama and Tsurugi are charging toward him— at least Sangoku, Shindou, Ichino, and Hamano are cheering from where they stand. The managers are frantically shaking and choking Kirino and Hayami at the bench in their excitement, but Trainer Zaizen's doing the same thing to Coach Endou. Tenma and Shinsuke seem to be joining Amagi and Kurumada in their conquest to break the sound barrier, and he hasn't even gotten to the crowd yet.

The crowd of SEEDs that have been training to awaken Keshin, going through hell for that achievement— they're in equal parts excitement and bewilderment and that means there's mayhem up there.

For the first time in his life, Minamisawa is grateful that he can physically shut his ears off.

-

4-4 and no time left on the clock. Minamisawa has managed to get up, but he's probably going to join Ichino on the 'my legs are shaking and I don't want to test it' camper squad for a while.

"Hold on... doesn't that mean we're going into overtime?" Kai realizes first.

Shinsuke whines, "but he blew the three whistles..."

"He blew like, seven trying to get the goal whistle sound," Hamano points out. "And the announcer is still trying to breathe so he can't clarify either."

"Or penalty?" Kurama supposes. "If we're doing that, I guess Tsurugi and I can Rock-Paper-Scissors for it."

This is an official match, after all. As much as the coaches are out of the picture, it's still a tournament. Someone has to advance to the next round.

"No," Shuu interrupts, walking up to them. With a smile he glanced at his team— and declared, "we're forfeiting the match. It's a draw, but officially, it's Raimon's win."

"Huh?"

Everyone spins to the referee, who jumps at the attention.

The referee looks between them and shrugs, "the coaches did say you kids could do whatever you wanted... so if both parties are okay with it..."

Shindou interrupts, not to be rude, but out of genuine excitement, "we're fine with it!" and he turns to Shuu, looking desperate. It didn't take a lot to realize that most of Raimon was frayed at the edges at this point. They could not handle overtime right now.

Shuu chuckles, "then, that's settled!"

The referee looks between them, and nods. With a press of the communicator at his ear he relays the information to the announcer— and blows the whistle, a firm three to signal the end of the match.

Raimon had won.

And this time, Minamisawa just took off his hearing aids in the midst of the incoherent shrieking all around. Groaning in agony.

"Give me some kind of sign after you guys finish destroying your vocal chords. Please."

But turning off his ears did not stop Kurumada from seizing him by the waist and lifting him into the air, spinning him around and around. Minamisawa's pretty sure he shrieked at him for that, but Amagi decided to deal the finishing blow by dogpiling on them along with Tenma, Shinsuke, and Hamano (the opportunistic brats,) so he had better things to worry about than his pride.

"Next time," Shuu shakes hands with Shindou, "let's have a match on a field where we can all have fun, the whole ninety minutes."

Ichino leans heavily on Shinsou's shoulder for support. And Shindou couldn't help but smile back at Shuu in relief. "Of course. We'd take you up on it any time."

The crowd cheered.

It's a bizarre sight. No coaches got up to make final sportsmanship greetings. The crowd was throwing visors at the field and cheering like it was a concert. The winners were Raimon, but they looked beaten and battered in comparison to Ancient Dark.

But at long last, the match was over.

And whatever the hell's going on with Holy Road right now? One thing is for sure— Raimon's made it to the National Stage.