Welcome back to Out Of Sight! Have fun reading!

~'0'~

The soccer section of high school is even more impressive than the one at junior high. The soccer building is in Raimon's familiar shades of blue, yellow and white, a huge lightning bolt above the entrance. Large windows let in the sunlight and it seems like the building could fit at least two soccer fields and then some.

Tenma, having made his way to the part of the school he has so far avoided, takes a moment to stare at it. A breath of awe escapes him. Raimon really likes to show off where their fame mostly comes from, don't they?

The only building the brunet is aware of that could actually compete with this one is Teikoku's, and that's saying something.

He shakes himself out of his trance and unconsciously straightens as he walks through the glass doors that automatically slide open for him. The inside is as amazing as the outside. Light colors, a high ceiling and more room than seems necessary. There are four large sliding doors, these ones made of shining metal, two in the back wall and one both left and right from the entrance.

In the right side of the room are comfortable couches and chairs, looking way too modern for a mere school club with their blue pillows and shining white metal. On the other side of the room are a few vending machines and tables with chairs. An information desk – and why does a school sport club have an information desk – is directly in front of the entrance, between the two sliding doors. A woman is sitting behind it, typing away at a computer, and there are some other people scattered around the 'lounging' side, but otherwise it's mostly empty.

Tenma frowns at the blatant show-off from the school. Raimon Jr. High might be famous, but Raimon High School is even more so. Soccer is currently the top sport in the world and more than just playing and winning, it's about the sponsors and the fame. It's always been an important sport, but with the creation of hissatsu techniques and every discovery made later on, it's only grown.

It makes his skin crawl, to see things like this. He's always loved soccer and the only reason he played was because he wanted to, but he's well aware that some other people only do it for the fame and the money. In Jr. High, soccer players are still protected from most of it, but High School is free game.

He walks up to the reception desk and clears his throat to get the woman's attention. She looks up and while she smiles, Tenma can see her eyes taking him in sharply, scanning him, assessing him. ''Good afternoon, what can I do for you today?'' she asks politely and friendly.

The brunet would've been fooled if he hadn't dealt with Fifth Sector, El Dorado, the Grand Celesta Galaxy and the sponsors and reporters that came after that. But he won't let her know that so instead he returns her smile. ''Good afternoon, ma'am. I was wondering where I could sign up for the try-outs for the teams?''

''So you want to join the soccer team?'' she asks as she looks for something he can't see. The brunet nods cheerfully and hums in confirmation, and as the woman pulls out a paper, she adds, ''well, it's always great to have more people! I'm Fukuyo Naho, one of the club's advisors, so depending on what team you'll be assigned to, you'll be seeing me around.''

Fuyuko hands him the paper and he thanks her politely, already scanning the paper. Nothing much, just basic information like name, age and class, and a large 48 printed twice in bright blue in the corner. ''Once you actually join the team, you'll get a more serious assessment,'' the receptionist tells him, ''but this is just for the try outs. If you could fill it in and give it back to me now, please?''

Tenma nods, taking the pen she hands him and quickly writes everything down. Once he's done, he gives Fuyuko both the paper and pen, and she tears off one of the blue numbers. ''There you go, just make sure you bring this to the try-outs and exchange them for your jersey at the start. Do you know the details?''

''Ah, no,'' he admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. ''I'm afraid this was kind of a spur-of-the-moment decision.''

The receptionist smiles kindly at him. ''That's fine, too. The try-outs are tomorrow, and start half an hour after classes, but you're supposed to be there fifteen minutes earlier. There will be a few ranking matches and the trainers and older players will be observing them. They'll let players play for a while and judge them and once they know who will fit there best, they'll switch them out. The better players will be allowed to play longer, so that the judges can get a good assessment of their skills.''

Well, that's certainly different from Jr. High – but with more than one team, Tenma has to admit it sounds logical. ''So basically, the longer you're in the matches the higher the team you'll be placed in?'' Fuyuko nods in agreement and the brunet thinks for a moment. ''Hm... how many players on a team?''

''Twenty, give or take.'' At the brunet's wide eyes, the woman shrugs. ''Raimon is the most famous soccer high school in Japan, we're bound to attract lots of students. Three teams is the standard, but most years a fourth and sometimes even a fifth is created. They're disbanded quickly, though, since at least fifteen percent drop out and the rest moves up to the higher teams.''

Tenma grabs the small piece of paper with his number and thanks Fuyuko. Then he quickly leaves the soccer building, thinking over all the new information.

He already knew Raimon was currently the most famous soccer club in Japan, but this is definitely impressive. If there are twenty players for every team, and there are five teams at the start of the year, it means there are more than one hundred members in the club in the first month.

Talk about overkill.

  ~'0'~  

The next day after school, Tenma takes his time changing into his PE clothes and getting to the outside soccer fields, because they obviously need more than one, where the try-outs are apparently located. When he arrives there, it's already swarmed with students – both participants and other students who want to watch.

He moves through the crowd and after a bit of searching, finds the main sign up point. A large table and people dressed in Raimon's jerseys – the second and third-years, probably.

Tenma is quickly approached by one of them. ''Hey, can I help you?'' asks the boy politely, his dark blue shirt showing he's part of the second team.

''Ah, yes, I needed to exchange this for a jersey?'' he shows the boy the piece of paper with his number. The second-year takes it from him, scans it for a moment, and then disappears behind the table, where boxes are standing, but Tenma can't see what's inside them.

Soon enough, the boy returns, handing Tenma a sleeveless, green jersey to be worn over his PE shirt, a large 48 on the back. ''You're on field two, that way. Just cross out your name on the list and wait until they start,'' says the boy, gesturing in the direction of the right field. ''Good luck and have fun!''

''Thank you!'' Tenma moves away from the table, pulling the overshirt on and walking towards the correct field. Other teens are already gathered them, about half of them with green jerseys and the other half with orange ones. He finds the list the boy was talking about, lying on yet another table, and scans the many names until he finds his own. He crosses it out and makes room for others.

It's nosy and crowded, but the atmosphere is light and the brunet can't help but smile a little at all the nervous and excited teens running around. Not only boys, but also lots of girls, and he's glad to find that the new ruling of both genders on a team has gotten such a positive response.

Soon enough, a loud voice asks for attention and despite the loud chatting from his peers, it's heard clearly. The brunet turns to the source as the noise around him dies down.

Tenma's eyes widen just the slightest bit.

Confident in a way that he's seen only a few times before, demanding attention without being forceful. He's standing too far away for the brunet to really make out any details, but his voice is strong and gentle like it's always been and that one reminder leaves him breathless.

''Welcome, everyone! I'm very glad to see we have so many volunteers this year,'' says the young man and there's a genuine smile on his lips as he looks over all the new students. ''Today, I'll be in charge of the second field. I'm also the trainer of the second team, but even if you're on a different team, I'd be glad to help if you need me. My name's Tsurugi Yuuichi and before anyone asks, yes, I'm related to Tsurugi Kyousuke. He's my very annoying emo brother and I don't think he's had his coffee today, so be sure to stay out of his way,'' he adds the last part jokingly, probably trying to reassure the nervous first-years. It works, the teenagers laughing slightly at the way the trainer makes fun of Raimon's stoic ace.

Tenma's blood feels like ice.

Yuuichi had come to visit him in the hospital, despite his obvious reluctance. He tried to hide it and he did a good job, but the slight tension in his shoulders and the lines around his eyes gave him away.

Even so, Tenma had appreciated it.

''Did you know Kyousuke is actually addicted to chocolate? Not even pure,'' joked Yuuichi, his voice lowered as if he was telling a secret, ''but white! I swear, if we ever have some in the house, he'll have found and devoured it within three hours.''

Tenma smiled. ''Really?'' he'd asked, trying in vain to muster up some of his formerly limitless energy.

Yuuichi's own smile had dimmed just slightly, but he'd covered it up quickly. ''Yeah, really. Next time you want something from him, bribe him with it. It's guaranteed to work.'' And he'd placed a hand on the brunet's hair, ruffling it playfully. ''So when you get out of the hospital, we'll just have to try and make some for him, ne?''

It'd been about four weeks after that fateful match and they'd gossiped about Kyousuke and Raimon and soccer in general, and it'd been fun.

Yuuich was as kind and gentle and strong as he always was, joking around and cheering him up and staying, even though his reluctance to visit had been almost palpable at that point.

Come to think of it, that was the last time Tenma talked with him.

They never did make that chocolate.

  ~'0'~  

Most of what follows next passes in a daze.

Tenma is only vaguely aware of moving towards the field and sitting down on the grass. He thought he was prepared for this. Thought he wouldn't have any close contact with the people he used to know and he doesn't, not really, but at the same time... he hadn't expected Yuuichi-san of all people to be here.

His former team – both Raimon and Earth Eleven – is one thing. He can be angry at them, can push everything else to the background and hide it behind a wall of venomous thoughts and the urge to scream and hurt, because anything else is, at this point, still too raw and too painful and he can allow himself to be defensive when faced with his friends, can allow himself to stay quiet and pretend not to be who he is.

But Yuuichi, Tsurugi Yuuichi, is not someone he was expecting. Not someone he knows how to deal with.

Because there's no anger, no barely contained flames that devour everything else. Yuuichi hadn't been his friend like everyone else, he was older and wiser and Tenma never had to be Captain in front of him. He could allow himself to be vulnerable in a different way, be his own age and leave the decisions to the more experienced player without fear, because Yuuichi was kind and understanding and supportive all at once.

And he never had to be there. Never was obligated to visit, yet he did, even though his reasons not to were valid. They were the same as his brother's, but Kyousuke had been his best friend and they'd been closer than anyone else in the team.

Yuuichi didn't have to visit, yet he did.

And then he didn't.

  ~'0'~  

Tenma's watches the match in front of him with weary eyes. He focuses on it, pushes the other thoughts out of his mind, and inspects the hopeful players carefully.

He might not be a strategic genius like some of his teammates, but he was captain for a reason and he knows talent when he sees it. He can pick out those who play for actual fun and those who are arrogant, believe too much in their own skill and not in their teammates.

The best players are a mix between those two ends.

Confident in their own skill, gaining just that little extra that can only be achieved with wanting to win for fun and not to be the best, being able to have fun with the team and be a team.

It's rare to find someone like that who hasn't been part of a team, not just on a team but a part of it, and as he watches, Tenma can't help but see the skill level between him and these new players.

Lots of them have played on teams before, of course, but they haven't been the best in Japan and the best in the Galaxy like he has. There's a lot that's important in soccer – a good team, confidence, a drive to win – but even though it's a team sport, individual skill can make or break it.

And Raimon's first team, undoubtedly, contains some of the most skilled players currently in Japan, even stronger through their bonds but strong enough in their own right.

Tenma might not be part of them anymore, might not have played on a team for three years, but he was their captain and he's given everything and then some to claw his way to where he is now.

And from the few Raimon matches he has seen, he can't help but suspect that he's still very much on their level.

Players are being switched in and out and the brunet can see a few people clad in yellow on the other side of the field, watching the match, judging the new players.

That's going to be the biggest obstacle here.

Not hiding his name, because why would people in the first team learn the identity of every single person in all the four or five teams? Not avoiding them, because he doesn't have to, not really, not with the hair dye and colored lenses.

It's hiding his skills.

Not even that, actually.

It's about hiding his own personal playing style.

They've played together for so long, able to read each other instinctively, knowing when and where the others would be, what they would do. It's a form of closeness that only comes from playing together and then some extra, from facing danger and uncertainty together.

Those bonds might be broken, but the knowledge isn't gone.

He might act flawlessly, pretend he's not who he actually is so well everyone believes it, but if he doesn't change his playing style, it's all over.

Just then there's another player switch. ''Numbers 46 to 50, prepare to get on the field! Players 18, 22, 24 and 47, please leave the field and report to the information desk!''

Tenma stands up from the grass and stretches, loosening his muscles a bit as he follows the other new players. He moves to the side of the field, waiting for the switched out players to get back to bench. The four players on the green team walk towards them, all of them tired and sweating, and as Tenma waits for them to pass them, only one thought rings through his mind.

Can I really do this?

He breathes in slowly, letting his body relax. He's done this so often it isn't even scary anymore, despite all the eyes watching him, all the people judging him. It's familiar ground despite not having stepped on it for so long.

With only a second of hesitation, he steps over the sideline and onto a real field for the first time in years.

I can.

  ~'0'~  

''Isn't this exciting?''

Hayami isn't even surprised when Hamano slings an arm around his shoulders, having gotten used to the other teen's enthusiasm after all the years they've been best friends. Instead he adjusts his glasses and keeps his eyes on the new players entering the field.

They've just assigned four people to the fourth team selections and four new hopeful players are switched in. A quick scan doesn't leave him very impressed yet, but looks can be deceiving.

All four boys seem to be first-years, two with identical faces – twins – while another one has bright orange hair and the last one has dark messy locks.

''They don't look very good,'' says Hamano, falling down on the bench next to him.

''Don't be rude,'' scolds the other boy slightly. ''They could be hiding more than we might think.''

His best friend gives him an overly dramatic look. ''What happened to the you who would agree with me on stuff like this?''

''He met lots of crazy strong players, which taught him not to underestimate other people without knowing what they're capable of,'' Hayami deadpans. ''Now shush, the match is continuing.''

Hamano grumbles something but quickly focuses his attention on the game in front of them. Joking around for a while is one thing, but not doing their assigned tasks is something else entirely.

Nothing really stands out for a while. The new players are good but not impressively so and the match continues on like normal. ''Number 47's pretty good,'' mutters Hamano eventually, eyes focused on the orange-haired boy. ''Nice form, fast too.''

Hayami nods absentmindedly, throwing the subject of their conversation a quick look and sparing a moment of appreciation for his skills, but then his focus returns to the dark-haired boy. ''48 is good too,'' he adds. ''Very fast.''

''Really? I hadn't noticed,'' says his best friend, a little surprised. They stay silent for a while. ''He's fast, true, but not by-''

They both fall quiet when number 48 suddenly breaks past the player guarding him, shoots forward and steals the ball from the other team.

It's fast. Very, very fast.

''Well,'' laughs Hamano softly, ''I've been proven wrong. He's not only fast, but he has balance. Think he's played on a team before?''

Hayami shakes his head. ''I don't recognize him, not even from Jr. High matches.'' His eyes follow the dark-haired boy easily and he whistles. ''Wherever he comes from, he's good.''

His teammate hums in agreement.

  ~'0'~  

Tenma breathes slowly as he sits down on the grass, having finally been switched out.

That... was quite the workout.

He may have been practicing by himself for months, but playing with others is something completely different. And even if it wasn't the level he used to play, he's still exhausted by the end of it.

It's a good exhausted, though.

His muscles burn and his breathing is erratic and heavy, but a weight he didn't even know was there has lifted off his chest.

The brunet grabs his water bottle from his bag and takes a few sips from it, watching the last few minutes of the match. A girl attempts to score, and it's an impressive attempt, but it ultimately fails. Soon after that, the match is called to an end and the trainer in charge of the field – Yuuichi – steps up and smiles at all of the exhausted teens.

''Great job, everyone! I must admit, there was a lot to see today!'' he says, voice and grin encouraging, and gives them a thumbs-up. ''I hope you're all satisfied with the results as well! Anyway, next Monday the new teams will be announced, so be sure to check out the information board in the main hall, alright? Now, have a nice weekend and we'll see you all next week.''

While listening to his noisy peers, Tenma stands up and collects his bag. He doesn't bother changing out of his PE clothes – he'll be going home immediately after this, anyway – and instead swiftly moves through the crowd and away from the fields.

Storm clouds are gathering overhead, and belatedly, the brunet remembers the weathercaster predicting a storm for tonight. A sigh breaks free from his lips and he hoists his bag further up his shoulder, dodging around other people left and right.

As the crowds start to thin a little, the brunet suddenly halts and grimaces.

He forgot his water bottle.

A scowl pulls at his features and he turns around swiftly, heading back towards the field he just left. Luckily, most people seem to have left already – it's quite late and most teens should be getting home for dinner – so when he reaches the field again, there's barely anyone left.

Unfortunately, more than half of those who are left are dressed in bright, familiar yellow.

The brunet pauses for a second and then shakes himself out of his daze, moving towards the bench. Poisonous green eyes narrow when they catch sight of two familiar figures, both tall with pale skin and navy blue hair.

Yuuichi and Kyousuke are talking quietly together, but once he gets closer to them, they fall silent. The elder smiles warmly at him. ''Hello, can we help you with something?''

Tenma has to force himself not to swallow, hyper aware of his suddenly dry throat.

Instead he shakes his head and attempts what hopefully looks like a polite smile. ''Ah, no,'' he says and his voice wavers only slightly, ''I just forgot my water bottle.'' He gestures to the bottle, standing behind Kyousuke on the bench.

The striker grabs it and offers it to him. ''Thank you,'' says the brunet, hoping the other doesn't notice the trembling of his hands.

Please don't say anything, please don't say anything, please don't say-

''You were number 48, right? You're very good.''

Dammit.

Yuuichi seems genuinely interested and Tenma keeps his lips pulled upwards in what he knows is a horribly fake smile. ''Ah, yes, that was me,'' he says. ''Thank you for the compliment.''

His fingers are curled around his water bottle so tightly the skin is turning white, and he has half a mind to throw the object that has landed him in this situation far, far away.

But that would definitely make both of the Tsurugi brothers look at him strangely and he absolutely can't have that.

Unfortunately, Yuuichi already seems to be enjoying their current conversation. ''Have you ever played on a team before?'' he asks, and then pokes his younger brother's shoulder. ''Kyousuke here joined his first team when he was eight, and I swear, he's switched at least five times in as many years. Raimon's the first one he actually stuck with so far.''

Tsurugi merely rolls his eyes, unlike the embarrassed blush and bite he would've gotten three years ago. ''Nii-san,'' he says and somehow manages to convey all his annoyance through that one word.

Yuuichi merely grins. ''I'm just teasing, Kyousuke!'' when all his brother does is roll his eyes again, the young man sighs and turns his focus back to Tenma. ''So? Ever played on a team?''

''A- a long time ago,'' says the brunet, not as smoothly as he would've liked. He can see Kyousuke raise an eyebrow at his answer and hurries to add something. ''It was... nice, for a while, but it didn't really work out.'' He shrugs for good measure. ''Thought I'd give Raimon a chance.''

The eldest Tsurugi brother grimaces. ''That's a shame.''

The sympathy in his expression is genuine and it's like someone punched Tenma in the gut.

He almost takes a step backwards, away away away, but catches himself just in time. The smile he wears is fraying at the edges, coming undone by the lump in his throat and the goosebumps on his arms because no, not this, not ever this, and he tightens his impossibly tight grip on his water bottle even more.

''It's getting late,'' he says, eyes drifting up to the cloudy sky. ''My father will be wondering where I am.''

Yuuichi suddenly seems to realize that he's keeping him and chuckles apologetically. ''Ah, my bad, my bad! You're absolutely right.'' His sheepish grin shrinks to a warm smile. ''So, I'll be seeing you around!''

Thank god.

Tenma forces his crumbling smile to hold up for a little longer and bows politely. ''I'll be seeing you, trainer Tsurugi, Tsurugi-san,'' he tells the two brothers and then finally, finally makes his retreat, turning around and leaving the fields far behind him for the second time that day.

He soon leaves the school behind and saunters through the city. He could've taken the quiet way home, but something urges him to take the long road. Despite the hour, it's surprisingly quiet – most teenagers are already home and the adults are still at work.

The clouds are darkening threateningly, casting a shadow over everything, even if it's already spring. Seems like the storm will start a little earlier than expected. He should've brought an umbrella.

The brunet walks faster, hoping to avoid the rain and mentally cursing himself for not taking the fast way. The streets start becoming emptier, people hurrying to their destinations, and he sees a light flash from the side. A few seconds later, it's followed by ominous thundering.

It's only a minute later that the first drops of rain start to fall.

Within seconds, it's pouring, and ironically the only thing Tenma can think is thank god my bag is waterproof as he breaks into a run.

More flashes of lightning follow, getting louder and brighter as the thunderstorm drifts closer, and it's shocking how fast it has become dark.

The rain drenches his clothes and hair, and his skin stings where the heavy drops hit. It's not far anymore, now, and the prospect of hot chocolate and a warm shower makes him run just the tiniest bit faster. Water splashes up from the puddles he runs through, hitting his bare legs, and he wipes his wet hair out of his eyes.

Another flash of light crashes through the sky, illuminating everything in an eerie white glow for a moment, and a car drives past, its headlights blinding him for a moment.

Then Tenma abruptly stops running as he catches sight of the large digital billboard on the building on the other side of the abandoned road.

It's so bright he has to squint to see it as his eyes adjust to the change in lighting, but he doesn't care.

Tsurugi's enlarged face stares down at him, shaded by a white and blue background. The close-up changes after a moment, instead showing a short clip of the striker scoring a goal with his Death Drop. It switches to a video of Tsurugi high-fiving Shindou, surrounded by the rest of the team.

The screen flashes white and bright blue letters appear.

You can be a champion too.

A logo, of some kind of business group – sponsors of Raimon, most likely – flashes by and settles into a corner of the screen, beneath a large picture depicting the entire team.

They remind the brunet of kings, staring down at the everyday peasants crossing this street, day in, day out.

Their eyes are a challenge. We're on top of the world. You're nothing compared to us, they seem to say, daring anyone to stand in their way.

A quick sequence of flashy pictures follows – Shindou chasing after a ball, Kirino stretching his hand out and mouth opened in a silent scream, Shinsuke clutching a ball to his chest. More follow.

Strong. Undefeated. Unburdened. Victorious.

It's the first time Tenma really realizes that while he spent three years bleeding and crying and hurting, Raimon – his so-called friends – only rose higher.

Their fame exceeds anything he ever could've imagined, even when he was still part of them.

While they reached for the stars, he was stuck on the ground.

''Sorry, you just had the same name as someone we, I, used to know...''

''We're just like that. We never leave anyone behind.''

''I'm also the trainer of the second team.''

And while they rose through the ranks, reached for a stage high above everyone else, they didn't even try to look for him. Didn't search for him, contact him.

They only needed to go to Aki to get his address.

But they didn't.

His mind flashes back to Hikaru's uneasy expression, his hesitance when mentioning his former captain and he wonders, did you think about me while I was gone? Did you think about me at all, or was it just my name, that reminded you?

And as Tenma stares up at the smiling and confident faces of those who he once would've trusted with everything, he doesn't doubt it for a second.

Whatever their reason was, Raimon hadn't sought him out, made not a single attempt to do so.

But is it really so surprising?

A bitter smile graces his features and a flash of cold white lights up the sky.

Out of sight, out of mind, after all.

To be continued...

  ~'0'~  

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

- Yara Meijer