Chapter Text
Prologue
The Itoshi Family. Rin Itoshi’s Early Childhood
“We’re home,” said Sae Itoshi as he stepped inside.
He held tightly onto five-year-old Rin’s hand while the door quietly shut behind them.
“Home,” Rin repeated softly, as if only now realizing they had returned to a safe place.
That was the beginning of his childhood.
Their parents were already waiting in the entryway.
Their mother approached Rin and gently touched his face. But her gaze wasn’t warm — it carried a strict sharpness.
“Rin, did you break your toy again? How many is that this month?” she asked with a frown.
The boy dropped his gaze. His lips trembled.
“Uh… I’m sorry…” he started to confess, but his older brother spoke first.
“That was me,” Sae said calmly.
Rin blinked in confusion, turning to him.
“Nii-chan…?”
Their parents exchanged surprised looks.
“Really, Sae?” their mother crouched to his eye level.
“Yes. I got angry and broke it,” he replied confidently, standing tall.
“Come with me for a moment, Sae,” their father said, walking into another room. The mother followed, placing a hand on Sae’s shoulder.
Just before disappearing from view, Sae turned and stuck out his tongue at Rin. Rin, grinning, did the same.
“Bleeeh—”
“Bleeeh—”
They said in unison.
---
The Next Day
Bright morning sunlight poured into the building as Rin, his small backpack on his back, walked into kindergarten with quiet indifference.
In one of the rooms, an anime was playing — a hero on the screen stretched his arms wide, gathering energy.
“Amazing! I can feel my life force being drained!” the TV blared.
“Everyone in the world! Share your energy with Evolman!” the hero cried, absorbing streams of light.
“Life is beautiful! Life is beautiful!” two boys chanted together, copying the character’s movements.
“The last episodes were so touching… I even cried yesterday,” the teacher said as she gently stroked their heads.
Rin watched the scene with cold detachment. It meant nothing to him.
He sat beside a girl, silently playing Jenga.
“Evolman is so cool! Sensei, show us the final boss!” one boy yelled.
“The last episode was fire!” added the other.
Rin stared at them… and suddenly, his thoughts drifted.
He didn’t see himself as a hero.
No… more like a monster.
“It’s Rin-kun’s turn! Jenga, Jenga!” the girl called.
Rin looked at the Jenga tower — and imagined it as a massive building.
Without hesitation, he leapt onto it, destroying it completely.
“Hey!!” the children cried out in protest.
---
Later, Outside
Rin stood atop a jungle gym, gazing down.
Pigeons were walking around the ground below.
“I’m the monster. I’ll catch you,” he muttered, and jumped down.
The pigeons scattered in panic. He didn’t catch a single one.
Instead, he hit the ground hard, and blood trickled from his nose.
The teachers panicked — and sent him home.
---
Evening, At Home
Rin sat on the floor, eyes fixed on the screen.
A cheetah chased its prey, the hunt intense.
Muffled voices came from the kitchen.
“Rin caused another scene at kindergarten today. We had to bring him home because of an injury. He keeps hurting himself… And Sae… he’s starting to change,” the mother said.
“Don’t worry. Boys are like that. They’ll grow out of it,” the father replied.
“What if I’m a bad mother?” she sobbed.
“Don’t say that. You’re doing your best…”
Rin stood near the door, silently listening. His shoulders slumped.
At that moment, Sae appeared beside him.
“Rin, want some ice cream?” he asked.
“…No, I don’t,” Rin replied gloomily.
“Then come to our room. Let’s not listen to all that,” Sae offered casually.
Rin nodded and followed him.
---
In Their Room
Rin flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Sae sat nearby, stretching calmly in a yoga pose.
“Am I weird?” Rin finally asked, turning his head to look at his brother.
“Hm?” Sae raised an eyebrow. “You’re my little brother…”
But he didn’t finish the sentence.
“Do you think people hate being around me?” Rin asked quietly.
Sae kept stretching, but answered:
“You know, people call me weird and annoying too.”
“Then… if we’re both weird, I’m actually glad,” Rin said, turning to his toys.
---
Later
The soft echo of a bouncing ball filled the room.
Rin sat hunched over on the floor while Sae stood in the corner, juggling a ball with his feet.
On the TV behind him, bright anime scenes flashed across the screen.
“Life is beautiful! Let’s go, Evolman!” the character shouted.
Sae finished his juggling, glanced at the screen, then at his brother.
“Rin, you’re watching that anime again?” he asked with a slight smirk.
“My friends say it’s cool too, but… it’s childish.”
But Rin didn’t look away from the screen. His eyes narrowed.
“No, nii-san,” he said quietly.
“I’m not watching Evolman… I’m watching the final boss.”
Sae blinked.
“…The final boss?”
“Yeah. Look how he fights. His body’s covered in wounds, full of holes… he’s almost destroyed, but he keeps going.
He gives everything to fight the hero. Even if it means destroying himself.
He fights to the end. That’s… really cool.”
Sae looked at his brother in surprise.
He hadn’t expected that.
“…Rin…” he said softly.
“I want to meet an enemy like that, too,” Rin added.
“And defeat them. Even if it’s my end.”
He wiped sweat from his forehead. A thin trail of drool slid from the corner of his mouth.
Sae froze.
Something stirred inside him — something strange and unsettling.
> So that’s what’s on your mind, Rin…
“You… you’ve awakened your ego,” Sae muttered.
“I want to support you, but… I don’t see the point in it.”
He turned away, then looked back.
“…Still. I hope we’ll always be together. Like water that can’t be separated.”
---
Years Later…
[Ready to continue whenever you are.]
Behind the wire fence of the football field, Rin Itoshi watched, holding his breath.
His older brother, Sae, effortlessly bypassed the defenders, as if they were mere training dummies.
When the last one was behind him, Sae went one-on-one with the goalkeeper — and didn’t give him a chance.
— “Sae, you’re amazing! You beat them all by yourself!” — the kids cheered, running up to him.
— “How many goals have you scored already?!”
— “Nii-chan, you’re always so cool when you play!” — someone added.
After the match, Sae was called for an interview. A woman with a microphone smiled and asked:
— “Sae-kun, you managed to defeat an entire team today. Tell us, what role do you see yourself playing in the future of football?”
Sae glanced at her sharply.
— “Shut up. I do what I want. I’m leaving. Let’s go, Rin.”
Rin hurried after him, grabbing his brother’s sleeve. As they walked off, they both stuck out their tongues at the cameras.
— “Want some ice cream, Rin?” Sae asked with a smirk.
They dropped by the nearest store and bought surprise ice creams.
Rin took a bite and noticed the word "Victory" on the stick.
— “Oh! I won again!” — he beamed proudly.
Sae frowned.
— “I told you, I decide what to do. And you… you waste your luck on nonsense.
People like that will never become the best in the world.”
Rin smiled.
> My Nii-chan hates losing… but he’s still the best.
---
The Next Day
On a green field, Rin sat playing with action figures, glancing up at Sae, who was once again dazzling on the pitch.
> Will I ever play like him? Rin thought.
I want him to praise me…
Sae beat several players but was pinned by two defenders near the box.
Suddenly, he passed — into an open space.
Everyone was confused.
Everyone… except Rin.
He felt it. He knew where the ball would land.
His body moved on its own.
> Why am I running? How do I know where it’ll be?
He reached the perfect spot, received the ball, and with one fluid strike, sent it soaring into the net.
Then he collapsed onto the grass.
— “Hey, kid! Chubby boy! Get outta here! Don’t get in the way!” one player snapped.
But Sae walked over.
— “Nii-san, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” Rin muttered nervously.
But Sae… was smiling. He ruffled Rin’s hair.
— “That was incredible, Rin. Let’s play together.
If you become the best in the world… after me.”
Rin froze.
> After him…
— “Mhm…” he replied softly, but his heart swelled with pride.
When the brothers started playing together, they knew they were unstoppable.
Rin and Sae — brothers who found joy in the game and in each other’s support from the very beginning.
Sae was finishing elementary school, while Rin, following his brother’s path, was still in the second year.
From the moment Sae invited Rin to play with him, Rin agreed without hesitation.
At first, they just trained at home.
Sae taught Rin the basics — how to hold the ball, run, pass.
Eventually, Rin joined real practices and began playing official matches side by side with his brother — impressing everyone with his potential.
---
Time passed...
Sae finished 6th grade, and Rin was now in 3rd. But Rin struggled in school — he had no interest in studying.
Despite Sae’s reminders and attempts to motivate him, nothing changed.
One day, as Rin stepped out of his room, he noticed their parents looking happy and excited.
— “Rin, come here, sweetie,” his mother called.
— “We have something to tell you: you're going to be a big brother.”
— “A big brother?” Rin asked, puzzled.
— “Yes. Soon you’ll have either a baby brother or sister,” she explained.
He didn’t really understand what that meant — but all he wanted was to get to football practice with Sae.
— “I hope you’ll be a good big brother,” she added with a smile.
Back in his room, Rin felt a strange warmth inside.
Happiness. Responsibility.
---
At School
Rin had almost no friends.
Whenever he tried talking to others, they either ignored him or walked away.
He didn’t understand why — until he met a girl and a boy who became his first true friends.
One day, Rin sat alone in class, watching as everyone else chatted in groups.
Then a girl approached him with a bright smile.
— “Hi, Itoshi-kun. How are you?”
Rin blinked, surprised.
— “I’m fine.”
Her name was Takebayashi. She was cheerful, smart, and kind.
— “Rin, want to come with me to the cafeteria?” she asked.
— “It’s lunchtime, and it’s boring to eat alone.”
He hesitated.
No one had ever invited him like this.
— “Uh… sure. But… why me?”
— “Isn’t it obvious?” she giggled.
— “We’re classmates. And friends. So why not?”
Rin walked beside her, trying to understand.
— “I don’t know… Everyone avoids me,” he admitted.
She looked at him closely.
— “Maybe it just feels that way. I noticed you never really talk to people. You’re a little unpredictable.”
He didn’t fully understand, but he smiled.
They reached the cafeteria, picked food, and sat down.
— “Takebayashi-san, why do you study so hard?” Rin asked.
— “I don’t get the point of school.”
She nearly laughed.
— “Are you serious? Of course I study hard! I have a dream — I want to be successful. Rich, even.”
Rin thought of his brother.
> So that’s why Sae studies after training…
> But I don’t want to fall behind him. I have to be just as good… or better.
And he closed his eyes.
Takebayashi became his first true friend, and thanks to her, Rin slowly began meeting others he could talk to — about football, anime, and more.
---
A few years later…
The Itoshi family welcomed another child — a little girl named Raiha.
She was three years old and quickly filled the house with joy.
Both brothers adored her — especially Rin, who always played with her and tried to protect her.
---
Another Match
Rin and Sae stepped onto the field once more.
They moved with lightning speed, exchanging passes like they could read each other’s thoughts.
Sae kept control of the ball, but an opponent defender pressed him hard. Sae glanced back — Rin was free.
Without hesitation, he passed.
Rin caught the ball and, without wasting a moment, sent a curling shot straight into the top corner — the goalkeeper didn’t even move.
— “These two forwards are insane! How do we stop them?” defenders muttered in disbelief.
— “The Itoshi brothers are monsters!”
Walking back across the pitch, Sae glanced at Rin.
— “Rin, watch your positioning.”
— “Okay, brother,” Rin said, wiping sweat with his sleeve.
But Sae wasn’t satisfied.
— “Can you increase the pace?” he asked, calmly but firmly.
Rin didn’t respond with words. But deep inside — he accepted the challenge.
— “Yeah. I can.”
Sae passed again. Rin took the ball and surged forward, adrenaline coursing through his veins.
> I really love playing football. Especially with my brother.
When we’re together, I feel unbeatable. We’ll become the best in the world.
And once again — goal.
---
After the match, they sat at the edge of a bridge, watching the burning sunset paint the sky in crimson and gold.
In their hands — ice cream. That familiar taste of childhood.
— “Ha! I won again!” Rin grinned.
Sae frowned, lips pursed.
— “Rin, stop wasting your luck on useless things,” he scolded.
Rin grew slightly nervous and, trying to hide it, quickly tossed the popsicle stick into the river beneath the bridge.
— “Ah, um... destroying the evidence!” — he blurted out.
Sae chuckled, then suddenly turned serious.
— “Rin, tell me honestly... why do you play football?”
Rin looked up, thoughtful.
— “No special reason,” he said slowly. “But I like scoring goals. When I run into a danger zone, you always pass the ball to me.”
Sae squinted and leaned back, gazing at the sky.
— “What do you mean by ‘danger zone’?” he asked, still holding his own popsicle stick.
— “Uhm… a position that’s dangerous for the opponent,” Rin replied, a little confused.
Sae smirked.
— “You rely too much on intuition,” he said. “You’ll be fine as long as you keep getting passes from me. But others won’t do that as well.”
Rin asked quietly:
— “What’ll you do when I’m not around?”
— “I dunno... maybe find a replacement,” Sae shrugged.
Without hesitation, Rin kicked his brother in the butt.
— “No way you’ll find one! What do you take me for?” he laughed.
— “Alright, alright — the best footballer in the world is Itoshi Sae!” Rin shouted teasingly, pointing behind them — where suddenly, a black cat darted out of the bushes and sprinted away with a loud “meow!”
Then Sae’s tone dropped.
— “I’m flying to Spain tomorrow,” he said quietly, looking into the distance.
— “I’ll be joining Real Madrid’s youth team… the best club in the world.”
Rin looked at his brother, fully understanding.
— “Why are you telling me this? I already know. You’re going to be the best in the world,” he replied calmly.
Sae exhaled and turned toward Rin with a serious look.
— “Rin, I want you to look after Raiha while I’m gone. And don’t quit football — not until I’m back.”
There was a flicker of tears in Sae’s eyes.
— “I won’t,” Rin promised.
— “I’m going to become the best in Japan. That’s my goal — to get noticed by scouts.”
— “Good.” Sae smiled slightly.
— “Then aim for the whole world. And remember, keep an eye on Raiha — no creepy boys, no bullies, got it?”
Rin nodded and held out his hand.
Sae clapped it firmly.
The next day at the airport, despite the growing sense of loneliness, Rin stood with his parents and little Raiha to see Sae off.
— “Good luck, my son. Take care of yourself,” their mother said gently, holding Raiha’s small hand and waving to Sae.
Blushing and visibly moved, Sae replied:
— “Bye, Raiha! Bye, Mom and Dad!”
Rin silently repeated to himself:
> I’ll catch up to him. I swear I will.
— “See you, Nii-san. Have a safe trip,” he said with a steady smile.
— “Well then… I’m off to become the best in the world,” Sae said as a parting line.
Rin looked at him, eyes shining with resolve and pride.
— “Next time we meet… I’ll be able to reach you, Nii-san.”
They watched as Sae joined the line for boarding.
The golden sunlight began to touch the rooftops as the Itoshi family stood quietly by the terminal.
Sae, a backpack slung over his shoulder, glanced back — at his mother, father, little sister Raiha, and of course, Rin.
His chest tightened.
This wasn’t just a goodbye — this was the start of something new.
Their mother gently squeezed Raiha’s hand. The little girl stared at Sae with wide, curious eyes — her face glowing with childlike innocence and a touch of worry.
— “Mama… will Sae come back?” she asked softly.
Her mother smiled and hugged her close.
— “Of course he will. He’ll become a great footballer — and we’ll all be proud of him.”
Sae crouched down so he could look his sister in the eye and smiled:
— “I promise, Raiha, I’ll come back. Will you wait for me?”
Raiha nodded shyly, blushing a little.
— “Yes… I’ll wait.”
Sae stood up. Their mother gently stepped closer to him and said:
— “Good luck, my son. Take care of yourself.”
Her eyes sparkled with emotion.
Their father — quiet and firm — placed a hand on Sae’s shoulder:
— “Remember who you are. And where you come from. Your family will always be your foundation.”
Rin stood nearby, trying to keep his emotions in check.
But his heart was pounding so loudly it felt like everyone could hear it.
He took a deep breath and smiled at Sae.
— “Goodbye, Nii-san. Good luck.”
Sae walked toward the automatic doors, then paused, turning around one last time.
— “Rin… I’ll come back stronger than ever. Wait for me. And don’t forget football.”
Rin raised a hand in a wide smile, his eyes full of fierce determination:
— “I won’t give up, Nii-san. We’ll both become the best.”
Sae waved one final time and disappeared down the boarding corridor.
Ahead of him lay a whole new world — full of trials and dreams.
His chest still ached, but his passion burned even brighter than the pain.
The Itoshi family stood together for a long while, until Sae vanished from sight — clinging to each other so they wouldn’t cry.
Little Raiha, watching her brothers promise to see each other again, hugged her mother tightly and whispered:
— “I’ll become strong too… so I can welcome Sae home.”
A few weeks after Sae left for Spain, Rin’s world shrank — to the size of school hallways, the training field, and white hospital walls.
He closed himself off more and more, trying to keep a brave face for Raiha, and not show his father how heavy things weighed on him.
School, football, taking care of Raiha — it all pressed on his shoulders.
But more than anything else… it was their mother’s condition that gnawed at him.
Day by day, she seemed to fade — like a candle flickering in the wind. Her face grew pale, her movements weaker, her voice softer.
Rin clung to hope.
> Tomorrow will be better… it has to be.
But one morning, everything collapsed.
He woke to an eerie silence.
Usually, Mom would already be in the kitchen or living room.
He got up and walked out — only to freeze.
She was lying on the kitchen floor.
Her lips were blue.
Her eyes shut.
Her chest barely moved.
— “M-Mom?! MOM!!” — he screamed, rushing toward her in a panic.
His hands shook as he called for an ambulance.
Then he called his father.
His voice trembled, but he tried to speak clearly.
His heart pounded so hard it felt like it would explode.
---
In the Hospital
The white walls felt like a prison.
Time crawled unbearably slow.
Rin, his father, and little Raiha sat in the corridor like statues.
Raiha clung to Rin’s hand, pressing into his side.
Their father stared silently at the floor.
Finally, the door opened.
A doctor in a white coat, face weary and lined with sorrow, stepped into the hallway.
His eyes gave away the news before he even spoke.
— “How is she?” the father asked immediately, his voice shaking.
The doctor took a slow breath and replied:
— “I’m sorry… but your wife’s condition is extremely serious.
She has advanced-stage lung cancer. The metastasis has spread… There’s nothing more we can do.”
The words hit like a knife.
The father took a step forward, like trying to lean on air.
— “What…? How can that be?! She was just walking… cooking… laughing…”
— “Sometimes… it doesn’t show for a long time,” the doctor explained gently.
— “It could be genetic. Or from stress, or lifestyle. But now… we can only offer palliative care.
You may take her home. Let her rest in peace… for her final days.”
The words carved themselves into Rin’s heart.
He clenched his fists around his knees, biting down to stop the tears — but something inside was already breaking.
— “No…” he whispered.
— “No… not this…”
Their father turned away, covering his face with one hand.
His shoulders trembled.
Little Raiha, not fully understanding, looked up at Rin and asked softly:
— “Big Brother… is Mommy coming home soon?”
Rin met her gaze — those innocent eyes full of hope — and clenched his jaw.
— “Yes, Raiha. She’ll be with us soon.
We’ll be together. Always.”
He pulled her into a tight hug.
Tighter than ever before.
That same evening, they entered the hospital room.
She was asleep.
Her face had become thin — almost translucent. Even breathing seemed to take great effort.
But when she heard familiar footsteps, she smiled faintly.
— “Rin… Raiha… you came,” she whispered, barely opening her eyes.
— “Of course we did, Mom,” Rin said gently, sitting beside her.
— “How are you feeling?”
— “Tired…” she smiled softly.
— “But I’m happy… to see you both.”
— “Mama,” Raiha whispered, “I drew a picture of you. Look!”
She held out a piece of paper — a simple drawing, childish and colorful: Mom, Dad, Rin, and Raiha, all holding hands.
Their mother closed her eyes, and a tear slipped down her cheek.
— “It’s beautiful… Thank you, sweetheart.
This… is the most precious thing I have.”
— “Will you get better?” Raiha asked.
— “I want you to read me bedtime stories again…”
Their mother looked at her for a long time. Then turned to Rin.
— “Rin… I know how hard it’s been for you.
But you’ve grown up so much.
Thank you… for everything.”
He gripped her hand tightly.
— “I’ll be strong, Mom. I promise.
Just… stay with us a little longer.”
She smiled faintly, then asked:
— “And Sae…? Does he know?”
— “No,” Rin replied.
— “You asked me not to tell him.
You didn’t want him to worry. You wanted him to stay focused on his dream.”
She nodded slowly, closing her eyes again.
— “That’s right… let him keep flying…
Let him soar higher than any of us.”
The house greeted them with silence.
But from the kitchen came the scent of curry… and a voice.
— “Welcome home, kids,” said their father with a gentle smile.
— “I made dinner.”
Rin blinked in surprise.
— “You’re home? Weren’t you supposed to be at work?”
— “They let me leave early today.
I thought… maybe you needed support.”
He’d already set the table. Rin sat down and stared at the food.
The aroma — it was just like Mom’s.
He took a spoon, tasted it. Warm, slightly spicy, with a hint of sweetness.
— “It’s almost like hers…” he whispered.
His father nodded.
— “I asked her for the recipe. She told me how to make it.
I wanted you to feel her warmth here… even if just for a moment.”
— “We saw her today,” Rin said quietly.
— “She asked about school… football… and Sae.
She said she doesn’t want him to know.
She wants him to keep going forward.”
His father sighed, rubbing his face with one hand.
— “She’s always been strong…
Stronger than either of us.
Even now, she thinks of others…”
— “Dad, I already did my homework,” Rin added.
— “After picking up Raiha from preschool.”
— “Good. Then wash the dishes and get some sleep.
You’ve got a class trip tomorrow.”
Rin looked up in surprise.
— “How do you know that?”
His father smiled gently:
— “Your mother told me.
She remembers everything.
Even now.”
Lying in the darkness, Rin stared at the ceiling.
Thoughts swirled in his mind like fog.
— “Mom is leaving us…” — he whispered.
— “And I have to smile. I have to stay strong.
For Raiha. For Dad. For her.”
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he lay motionless — unable to hold back the storm inside him.
— “I’ll become stronger, Mom… I promise.
I’ll achieve everything, so you can be proud of me…
Even if you won’t be here to see it.”
He closed his eyes.
But deep inside, in a place no one could touch,
a fragile ember of hope still glowed —
that even if she left… her love would remain with them.
Forever.
Gentle rays of sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting a golden glow across the room.
Rin slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the light.
He didn’t want to get up — his body ached from yesterday’s training, and his head was full of worries about the day ahead.
But he knew:
> There’s no time to lie around.
— “Gotta make breakfast, check Raiha’s stuff…
Oh, right — there’s a match today. Damn it…” — he muttered, tossing off the blanket.
He dragged himself to the bathroom and washed his face with cold water to wake up.
Looking at his reflection, he noticed faint circles under his eyes — the price of sleepless nights.
— “Pull yourself together, Itoshi Rin…
You promised Mom and Raiha you’d be strong.”
He took a deep breath, dried his face, and walked down the creaky stairs toward the kitchen, ready to take on the adult role once again.
But then —
he stopped in his tracks.
— “Dad?”
His father stood by the stove, wearing a kitchen apron and stirring a pot.
It was a rare sight — not the usual suit, not the tired look after work, but rather a calm expression.
— “Good morning, Rin. You’re up early. Though… I’m not usually home at this hour either,” he said without turning around.
— “You’re… not going to work today?” Rin asked, not sure what to make of it.
— “No. Took a day off. Wanted to cook breakfast myself. Sit down — it’ll be ready soon.”
Still a bit surprised, Rin sat at the table.
He was used to being the one who made breakfast, packed Raiha’s things, and handled household chores.
Seeing his dad at home like this… felt strange. Almost unfamiliar.
— “How are you feeling?” his father asked, placing a plate of fragrant curry in front of him.
— “Fine. A little tired.”
— “Today’s a big day, right? The school trip to Kyoto — and your match with one of the Kyoto school teams.”
Rin nodded slightly, eyes fixed on his plate.
His father sat across from him, placed his hand on the table, and looked at him seriously.
— “Rin. You’ve been carrying too much on your shoulders already.
I’m proud of you for that.
But don’t forget — you’re still a kid.
Today, just be a student. Play football. Smile.
And… if you can — talk to Takebayashi.”
— “Why?”
— “I’ve seen how she looks at you.
And how you go completely silent whenever she’s near.”
— “D-Dad!” Rin blushed and buried his face in the curry.
His father laughed — and for the first time in a long while, the house echoed with genuine laughter.
Not weary. Not hollow. But real.
The school gates buzzed with activity.
Students with backpacks and suitcases milled about, chattering about the trip, cracking jokes, and calling out to each other.
Rin noticed some of them taking pictures in front of the school building.
— “Rin-kun!” — came a familiar voice.
He turned.
Takebayashi Aki was hurrying toward him, pulling her suitcase on wheels. She stopped, slightly out of breath.
— “I thought you’d already gone in. You’re usually here before everyone else.”
— “This morning was… different,” Rin said softly, adjusting the strap of his backpack.
— “Brought the camera with me.”
— “Oh! The one your dad gave you?”
He nodded.
— “Told me to record whatever feels important.”
Aki looked at him with interest.
— “Then make sure to film us in front of Fushimi Inari Shrine.
Or when we get lost in the bamboo forest!”
Rin gave a small smirk.
— “Try not to get lost before we even get on the train.”
— “Ha-ha, very funny,” she huffed.
The teachers were already gathering nearby.
The loud voice of the homeroom teacher interrupted their banter:
— “Everyone gather up! Time to check the roster! After that — to the station! The train to Kyoto won’t wait!”
Rin looked at his classmates.
Some posed for photos. Others chatted or ran around waving their arms.
> I wonder how this will go… he thought.
School, the match… and Kyoto.
Could this be the beginning of something new?
— “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d show up,” Aki said with a light smile.
— “I figured you’d skip the trip and just go straight to the match.”
— “I’m coming with the group till the station,” Rin replied shortly.
— “Then… I’ll leave for a while and come back later.”
— “Does the teacher know?”
Rin just shrugged.
Inside the building, the hallways buzzed — suitcases, backpacks, loud voices.
Rin walked quietly.
Upstairs, he stopped by a window, pulled out the camera from his bag, and took a photo of the crowd boarding the buses.
— “Hey! What are you doing back there?” Aki called. — “We’re getting called!”
— “Coming.”
When the class lined up, the teacher began reading names.
Rin listened absentmindedly, as if none of it concerned him.
— “Itoshi… Rin?”
— “Here,” he replied, then boarded the train.
He took a seat, placed his bag in front of him, and hugged it, intending to nap.
As more students and teachers filled the carriage, the noise grew.
Despite dozing off, Rin was half-aware of the chatter.
— “Ooh yeah! I win again!” shouted a boy in the row ahead, slamming down a deck of cards.
— “Nagumo-kun, you’re awesome!” laughed another boy.
— “You’re actually good at games, even though your grades suck,” said Aki, sitting right next to Rin.
— “Hey, shut up,” Nagumo grinned, then leaned closer with a shark-like smirk.
— “Now comes the punishment round… hehe.”
The boy beside him grabbed his shoulders, pretending to cry.
— “Anything but that! I’m begging you! Not like last time when you made me eat fish!”
— “I know nothing,” Nagumo smirked.
— “What are you gonna make him do?” Aki asked, sweat forming on her brow.
Rin grumbled quietly.
— “Aki… mind if I switch seats?”
She looked at him, a little flustered, then stood to let him out.
Rin moved down the aisle, trying to escape the noise — but no free seats.
— “Rin, you can sit here. We have space,” Aki said, catching up to him.
— “Ah… okay,” Rin replied and followed her.
— “Rin, I don’t think you’ve met this guy — this is Sanada-kun. Sanada, this is Rin.”
Rin reached out a hand. Sanada shook it.
— “I expected more of a dramatic intro,” Aki sighed, then noticed Rin closing his eyes again.
He was pretending to nap so no one would talk to him — but still listening in.
Then he heard another voice approaching.
— “Takebayashi! Let’s play cards!” shouted Nagumo.
Rin frowned.
— “Okay, but don’t shout so loud,” Aki replied.
— “Bring Sanada too — if we’re doing five-player mode.”
Sanada hesitated.
— “I don’t really feel like playing…”
— “Wait, aren’t we six?” Nagumo blinked.
— “Oh, no. Rin-kun’s not joining us. He won’t start participating until tomorrow,” Aki said.
— “Wait, what’s this?” Nagumo grabbed her math papers.
— “Why are you bringing this on a field trip?”
He tossed the papers to the floor.
Sanada sighed.
— “Look, I brought my console too. Aki, I’ll let you play—”
But she was busy helping Sanada pick up the papers.
Nagumo blinked.
— “Aren’t they childhood friends or something?
They live near each other, their parents are close…
They always go on walks and picnics together.”
Rin felt a pang of loneliness.
He didn’t show it — but it stung.
And then… the train stopped.
The train, gliding softly along the rails, began to slow down and finally stopped at Kyoto Station.
The students stirred, rising from their seats, grabbing backpacks and suitcases.
Amid the crowd and overlapping voices, Rin stood up and stretched before reaching for his bag on the overhead rack.
Inside was his neatly folded football uniform, a bottle of water, and the small camera his father had given him.
> “Film it when you win,” his father had said.
Rin looked out the window at the ancient city, now bathed in the light of morning.
The sky was clear, and the air was fresh — carrying the scent of old temples and bamboo.
— “Kyoto…” he whispered, as if to himself.
Next to him stood Aki Takebayashi — his classmate, study partner, and… perhaps more.
She adjusted her glasses and turned to him with a soft smile.
— “Well, here we are,” she said, gently nudging his arm.
— “Try not to fall asleep like before. Or worse — disappear like you did on the last field trip.”
Rin managed a faint smirk.
— “Don’t worry. If I disappear today… it’ll be with a purpose.”
— “The match, huh?” Aki sighed lightly.
— “You can’t even relax during a school trip, Rin. But… good luck.”
He gave a brief nod and turned away. But then he stopped.
For a few seconds, he stood silently — thinking.
— “Takebayashi,” he said quietly, without meeting her eyes.
— “Thanks. For helping me with school.
For not asking too many questions.
And for… everything, really.”
She looked at him, momentarily surprised, then smiled more warmly.
— “Mhm. Come back with a win.
And make sure you get some good shots on that super-camera of yours. I’ll be checking later.”
Without another word, Rin turned and walked away from the group — clutching the strap of his backpack.
His steps were calm, steady, full of purpose.
He knew where he was going.
And why.
Takebayashi, Sanada, Aki, and the others watched him go, a quiet smile playing on her lips.
> That guy… always alone, but always moving forward.
The sun had risen higher now, casting a soft glow over the green field.
A thin morning mist still hovered above the grass as Rin stepped out from a side alley, his backpack slung over one shoulder and the camera tucked safely into a side pocket.
He looked ahead — toward the football pitch, where his teammates were already gathering.
— “I’m here…” he exhaled quietly, walking forward.
Near the gate, a tall boy with ash-brown hair — the team’s goalkeeper, Hayato — spotted him.
— “Yo, Rin! Just in time! We thought you got stuck with your class!” Hayato called, waving.
Standing nearby were two more players:
the serious, focused midfielder Jun,
and the slightly spacey but fast striker Senji.
— “Spent too long saying goodbye to your tutor?” Senji teased with a grin.
— “She’s just a classmate,” Rin replied flatly.
— “Hah, sure…” Jun muttered, adjusting his cleats.
— “You brought your uniform?”
Rin silently opened his bag and showed the folded #11 jersey.
— “Of course. I brought the camera too. Dad wants me to record the match.”
— “That’s the spirit,” said their coach, walking up.
He was a man in his forties, with a worn but resolute expression. His voice was always firm — but never unfair.
— “Rin. I’m glad you made it. We’re counting on you.
You’ll be starting in the first half, just as planned.”
— “Got it,” Rin nodded.
— “This match isn’t just for fun. There are scouts from two Kanto schools watching.
Show them what you’ve got.”
— “We’ll crush them,” Hayato grinned, clenching a fist.
— “Just don’t go rushing in alone again, Senji,” Jun grumbled.
— “Hey! Who do you think I am?!” Senji protested — but everyone laughed.
Rin stood silently, scanning the field, catching the direction of the wind.
His face remained calm, but his eyes were cold and focused.
— “…I won’t lose. To anyone.”
The coach overheard his whisper and gave a subtle smile.
— “That’s the spirit, Rin. Warm-up in five, kickoff in fifteen.”
Everyone dispersed, but Rin stayed at the edge of the field, pulling his cleats out of his bag.
He glanced at the camera and recalled the look in his father’s eyes when he handed it over.
— “I’ll do this… for myself. And for you too, Dad.”
The opposing team arrived — their presence radiated hostility, as if they were ready to tear each other apart.
The referee’s whistle pierced the air, echoing through the empty stands.
The ball flew skyward from the opening kick. The game had begun.
— “Let’s go!” Hayato shouted, cutting through the noise.
Rin’s team pushed forward immediately.
Jun and Senji controlled the midfield, weaving short passes, while Rin dropped slightly deeper, tracking every movement of the defenders.
— “Rin, left!” Jun called out.
Rin slipped away from his marker and received the ball in stride. It clung to his foot like a magnet.
One touch — and he was flying down the flank.
— “One-on-one, Rin, do it!” Senji shouted.
A towering defender approached. Rin didn’t flinch.
A swift shift to the left, a fake shot, a drag across the body, and he was past him — now facing the box.
— “Is he gonna shoot?!” one of the defenders shouted.
But Rin didn’t.
One more feint — the second defender slipped, losing his balance.
An opening.
— This is it, Rin thought.
He switched to his left and fired low and fast into the corner of the net.
The ball sliced through the grass and slammed into the back of the goal.
GOAL!
The voice of the match commentator echoed from the sideline.
Hayato rushed over, clapping him on the back:
— “What a start, Rin! That’s how it’s done!”
Senji grinned, raising a finger:
— “Filthy! One defender, then the other, all clean!”
Rin turned silently back to midfield, hiding a small smile.
He looked up at the sky and thought:
— This is only the beginning. I’m not just a player. I’ll prove that — here in Kyoto.
---
Second Half
> “Without Sae, the field feels tight. My movement’s restricted — like something’s holding me back. But what? What am I missing?”
Rin raced down the wing, weaving past defenders.
His teammates called for the pass, but he ignored them — focused solely on the goal.
> “I have to control the game. I have to become the center of this team.
That’s the only way we’ll become the best in Japan.”
He paused at the edge of the box — someone was in position.
> “Pass? I wouldn’t have done that before.
But if I want to control the field… I have to learn to trust.”
He sent a perfect assist.
The teammate scored.
Cheers erupted.
> “That’s it. Control isn’t just solo play — it’s directing the whole team.
I’m one step closer.”
GOAL.
The net rippled. The sparse crowd exploded in applause.
A teammate (#7):
— “No way… You passed?! That was genius!”
Another (#11):
— “Thought you’d hog the ball again. Didn’t expect that!”
Rin didn’t respond.
He stood in the goal’s shadow, catching his breath.
Sweat dripped down his chin. Eyes half-shut.
Inside — nothing. No joy, no pride. Only silence.
The second-half whistle blew. The game heated up.
Rin stood on the pitch like a predator — calm, calculating.
— “I can’t lose,” he whispered.
The opponents surged forward.
A dangerous pass — but Rin read it.
A swift tackle. Intercepted.
Gasps from the crowd.
He moved like a dancer in chaos.
— “Fall back! Cover the wing!” the coach yelled.
Rin didn’t listen.
He was already racing forward, one defender — gone.
Another — gone.
His body moved like instinct, possessed by precision.
One-on-one with the keeper.
— “He’s got a shot…” someone murmured.
He struck.
No hesitation. No mercy.
Bottom corner. The keeper dove — late.
GOAL!
Roars from the stands. His name echoed from the benches.
But Rin didn’t smile.
He simply turned away. Cold. Unshaken.
> “Still not enough…”
---
Final Minutes — 2:1
Seconds stretched.
Rin got the ball again.
He scanned. Measured. Calculated.
One fake — past the first.
Speed burst — gone past the second.
Sharp cut inside.
> “If you want to win… become absolute,” a voice from his past echoed.
He stepped into the space — perfect angle — and shot.
BOOM!
The ball tore through the air into the top corner.
GOAL.
The stadium erupted.
Rin stood still, facing the goal.
His hair disheveled. Eyes gleaming.
For a moment — silence. Then a wave of cheering.
His teammates ran toward him.
But he didn’t move.
This wasn’t a goal.
It was a statement.
> His moment. His stage. His self.
---
After the Whistle
The final whistle blew. 3:1.
Victory. Cheers. Hugs. Tears.
But Rin…
Rin just stood.
Expressionless.
Still.
He didn’t feel joy.
Didn’t feel pride.
Just emptiness.
> “Maybe they were just too weak.
This wasn’t a real game.
Just a show.”
A teammate came up, grabbing his arm.
— “Come on! You’ve got to give a comment — MVP and all!”
Rin blinked — not at the hand, but at the memory.
Sae. Cold. Distant. Rejecting interviews.
Pushing everyone away.
Rin smiled — faintly.
— “Let go. I’m not doing interviews,” he said flatly.
The teammate backed off.
Rin walked toward the bench, grabbed his bag, and disappeared into the locker room.
---
Alone in the Locker Room
The water ran hot over his head.
Thoughts, like water, ran heavy.
He dressed.
Took the camera from the bag.
Watched the footage.
Dribbles. Feints. Goals.
He stared.
Then — a smile.
Not of joy.
Of quiet… sadness.
---
He left.
Not a word to the coach.
Not to the team.
Down the road toward Kyoto Tower —
Where his class was waiting.
> “That was a win.”
“Then why do I feel so… hollow?”
Rin (to himself):
Why didn’t I feel anything?
Maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe the opponents were just too weak. Or… has football really become boring?
I didn’t even notice when I started to lose interest.
Has it been like this for a while? Or did it just begin?
And if I quit football… what then?
He recalled a conversation with Sae — the same kind of talk Sae had with everyone. He spoke of football as a path meant for those who walk alone.
Back then, Rin didn’t fully understand.
But now… he was starting to feel that maybe, just maybe, his brother had been right.
By the time he reached Kyoto Tower, the day was already leaning into dusk.
Inside, it was quiet. Cool. Calm.
Rin decided to go up — maybe take a few shots of the city from above.
He pulled out his camera and captured a few panoramic photos. The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky in hues of soft gold and rose.
As he descended the stairs, he passed a side landing… and noticed a silhouette.
A girl, crouched on the steps, face hidden in her hands. Her shoulders trembled — she was crying.
Kyoto Tower. Evening.
The air, thick with the warmth of July, was starting to cool. Shadows stretched longer across the pavement. The city of Kyoto seemed to hold its breath, preparing for the hush of nightfall — for the lanterns to glow, and for the voices to soften as the sun slipped beneath the horizon.
Rin walked further. He was supposed to return to the dormitory where his classmates were staying after the match. But then he noticed a stairway.
Descending it, he decided to rest a little.
He sat, pulled out his camera again, and began scanning the area through the lens, simply observing how the world appeared from his perspective.
Then, suddenly — a stranger approached.
— “Hey, kid! Why are you filming me?”
A woman. She looked at him with sharp, accusing eyes.
— “Sorry, ma’am… I wasn’t filming you,” Rin stammered. “I was just testing the view… I wanted to see how the scenery looked through the lens.”
— “Liar! You were stunned by my beauty, weren’t you?” — she scoffed, clearly enjoying the sound of her own voice.
Rin didn’t know what to do.
What would my brother do in this situation?
A memory flashed — the two of them running away from an angry adult.
“I’ve got it. I can just run.”
But as he turned to flee, he saw her heading toward nearby police officers. He heard her voice, loud and dramatic, accusing him of something he hadn’t done.
Panic flooded him.
Then, two police officers approached.
— “Hey, kid. We heard you took a photo of this woman. Are you here on a school trip? Junior high, right?”
— “I-I didn’t take any pictures of her… I was just interested in the surroundings,” Rin explained, visibly panicking.
— “He’s lying! Arrest that boy!” the woman cried.
— “Ma’am, please calm down. We’ll handle this.” One officer’s voice was steady, serious.
— “Kid, if that’s true, let us see your camera.”
Rin froze. One of the officers reached for the camera, the other stood behind, whispering.
What are they saying? Are they going to take me to the station?
Just then, near the tower’s glass wall, a figure stepped forward — from the shadows near the lower steps.
A girl.
She wore a white dress, and her long, pink hair flowed far past her waist.
— “He didn’t do anything wrong. I saw everything,” she said with a bright smile as she walked up.
Rin blinked in surprise. The officers and the woman looked at her, then backed off.
— “Thanks. Ugh, can’t even be alone in peace anymore,” he muttered.
— “Are you lost?” she asked.
— “No, just… wandering,” he replied with a small smile.
— “Then… want to wander together?” she said with a gentle look.
— “S-sure,” Rin replied awkwardly.
And so, they walked. They talked. They explored.
Eventually, they reached the top of Kyoto Tower.
— “Look! You can see Kyoto Station from here! We were just there,” she said, pointing.
— “Whoa, really?”
Rin aimed the camera. The station came into view — and so did the girl, throwing up a peace sign.
He took the photo.
Surprised at his own action, he stared at the screen.
— “Huh? What’s the picture like?” she asked, leaning in.
— “Whoa… it’s really pretty,”
— “It is, right?” she smiled.
Rin nodded.
Later, they passed a souvenir stand.
— “Wow! Look at those charms! Let’s buy some!” she said, eyes sparkling.
— “Sure. I want to see what they have. Maybe we’ll find something cool,” Rin replied, now smiling openly.
The sky turned dark. They stood near a quiet shrine.
— “Whoa… it got so late,” she said softly.
— “Tch. It’s been night for a while,” Rin muttered.
— “Pffft, hahaha! You’re so cute when you pout, Rin-kun! Did you know that?”
— “Stop it. That’s not funny.”
— “We got lost thanks to you,” he grumbled.
— “But you had fun… didn’t you, Rin-kun?”
— “…Whatever. No point arguing. And you don’t even have a phone.”
— “I guess the teachers are probably out looking for us,” she said guiltily.
— “I want ice cream. Come with me? After that, we’ll catch the bus.”
— “Okay!” she said cheerfully.
— “I spent all my money on charms,” she admitted, peeking into her empty wallet.
— “You idiot,” Rin said, laughing.
— “You probably ran out because you bought five of the same charm. Who even does that?”
He sighed.
— “Fine, I’ll get you some ice cream.”
They bought two cones. Rin chose his favorite — the one he used to eat with his brother.
He took a bite… and noticed a word on the stick.
Victory.
— “Oh, I won again,” he said flatly.
— “What?! That’s so cool!” she beamed.
But Rin just threw the stick in the trash.
— “I’m not wasting luck on this. Better to dispose of the evidence,” he said coldly.
— “Huh…?” she muttered, confused.
They walked toward the bus stop. Rin was ahead. But the girl stopped.
— “Well… I’ve got no money. Take care, Rin-kun,” she called.
He paused. Remembering the shrine behind him, he walked over and tossed in the last 120 yen he had.
— “Why?” she asked.
— “I don’t know. We were here. Felt like the right thing,” he replied.
— “Even though that was your bus money?”
— “Yeah. I guess I could’ve gone to my dorm, but…”
What’s with this boy? she thought, watching him.
— “Rin-kun… do you know what poverty feels like?”
— “I wouldn’t say I’ve lived it, but I get the idea. My dad handles the money now. He used to do it with mom. That was before Ni-san went to Spain. After that… mom got sick. Now I help with my little sister and support my dad.”
— “My mom works herself to exhaustion just to take care of us,” she said quietly. “I don’t mind being poor… but it hurts seeing her suffer.”
— “I understand,” he said gently.
— “Sometimes I wonder if her life would be easier without me. But that’s why I’m going to study hard. Become smart. Get a great job. Make her life better. That’s how I’ll give my life meaning.”
She held out her hands — and in them were the charms.
Rin thought of his brother.
— “You know, I think your dream deserves to come true,” he said, walking closer.
— “Th-thanks… that’s kind of embarrassing,” she replied.
— “I have a dream too. A promise I have to fulfill. For my sister. My brother. My parents.”
— “Then let’s do our best — together!” she said brightly. “You for your family, me for my mom — we’ll give everything for them!”
— “Yeah,” Rin agreed.
— “Oh! You forgot to make a wish with the shrine money. Let’s split it — 60 yen each!”
They put their hands together in prayer.
— “I wish to become the best in Japan… and be able to toss in ten thousand yen someday,” Rin said with a blush.
— “What did you wish for?”
— “Hey! You’re not supposed to say wishes out loud!” she giggled.
A bright light flared behind them.
— “What’s happening? Ah!” she covered her eyes.
— “Yotsuba-kun? What are you doing here?” asked a man.
The man took them to a place Rin hadn’t expected — her dormitory.
Rin waited there until his teacher arrived.
But that day they had spent together… was something he wouldn't forget.
---
The next morning.
Rin sat on the train, lost in thought.
The train moved fast… and yet, so slow.
The sun shone brighter than ever.
Kyoto buzzed with life. Shops opened. Scooters echoed in alleyways. But through the window, Rin saw none of it — only shadows and silence.
—
“That was a mistake.
I shouldn’t have spent the evening with her.
Shouldn’t have allowed myself to feel soft.
That’s weakness.
Attachment… always leads to pain.”
He stopped by a store window. His reflection stood beside a poster — cheerful students, smiles, clubs, laughter.
He looked out of place.
Too out of place.
But then he remembered…
— “You have sad eyes…”
And for the first time in ages… that phrase pierced him.
Not as criticism.
But as a mirror.
He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been wearing that expression.
How long he’d hidden behind indifference.
Behind silence.
Behind walls.
—
“But she saw it.
She simply saw it.
No questions.
No pressure.
And she stayed.”
He sat up straighter. In the train window, the sky reflected back — just as she had reflected his thoughts.
—
“If things were different…
Maybe I would’ve stayed with her.
But I don’t have the right to ‘different.’
All I have is now.
And she… she deserves more than I can give.”
I’ll keep my promise to her.
He clenched his fist. Stood.
And walked forward — vanishing into the morning light of Kyoto.
Four years had passed.
At a match, at the start of winter.
“Rin, don’t play alone,” the coach called.
Behind him stood a scout, thoughtfully jotting notes in a notepad. And behind them was another girl—she was also recording stats on a tablet.
Meanwhile,
Rin bypassed two players with a feint and a fake wind‑up, dribbling the ball between their legs.
"I want to become a footballer who can compete on the global stage…", he thought.
After getting past them, he saw his teammates.
“Rin, pass!” shouted the player on the right.
“I’m open!” said the one on the left.
“No, not that position…” he thought. But as he pushed forward, he reflected,
“Playing without my brother… it’s so much more awkward and holds me back more than I thought…”
A defender slid in, but he managed to jump with the ball.
“Don’t you see, Rin, you have to pass!” the coach shouted from the stands.
His nearby teammates also yelled:
“I’m begging you, Rin!” said the one on the right.
“Make the pass!” cried the one on the left.
“And if he’s not here… I’ll do it myself…”
The teammates running beside him joined in.
“I’m begging you, Rin!” pleaded the right-side player.
“Pass!” yelled the left-side teammate with all his might.
But Rin, gritting his teeth, kept dribbling forward.
“If he’s not here… I have to run to the end myself. Cover the whole field myself. Score the goal myself.”
He made a deceptive move, sharply pivoted his body, and in an instant broke free from the defender. Only then did he notice—three opponents had surrounded him. There was almost no space left.
“A dead end. Alone on the field—no warrior?”
For a split second, his foot hovered over the ball. He saw his teammate opening up on the left—this was the perfect moment to pass.
But…
He didn’t pass.
Instead, he surged forward—the ball slid along the grass as he forced his way through the defenders. One grabbed at his jersey from the side, another reached for the ball.
He barely stayed upright.
“I no longer want to rely on anyone. I don’t need teammates to reach the goal.”
“And if he’s not here… I’ll be his substitute myself,” he thought.
“What do I lack to reach my brother?” Rin passed to the player on the right—“I must get control over these inconveniences.”
A good pass, said one of the players who received Rin’s ball and passed it on to another. When that player got it, he saw Rin, now unmarked and right by the goal.
“Finish it, Rin,” the player told him.
Rin received the pass—“And then I’ll make this a team…” he thought—and he kicked the ball.
The ball flew straight ahead, creeping just over the goalkeeper, who tried to stop it but failed—it was Rin’s goal.
“And I’ll make this team reach the top with my help, and I’ll become the best in all of Japan,” he concluded his thoughts.
When he scored, he raised his arm high, letting out a triumphant shout, and a teammate lifted him up.
During the celebration, everyone was cheering—yet Rin didn’t smile.
He just stood there, breathing steadily. His eyes gazed somewhere beyond, past the field.
He thought that he had once felt happy only when playing with his older brother. “I miss you, big bro. I wonder how you’re doing…”
Evening fell; the field grew cold, floodlights came on. On the pitch remained only three figures.
“You trained well today—stay a bit longer,” one boy said to him.
“Yeah,” Rin replied confidently. “It’s freezing. Let’s go.” The two boys left together; Rin was the only one left.
He stood in front of the goal with a ball at his feet, ran toward it, and kicked it. The ball flew with a curled trajectory into the net.
“Darn, missed a bit,” he muttered, looking down—but then he felt a tiny snowflake land on his nose. “Snow,” he said with joy.
“When will you start watching the ball’s path?” said someone. Rin heard the voice and looked back.
“A bro coming back…” he smiled—until he saw Sae’s face.
He stood there, staring coldly at the ground.
“Yeah, hey,” Sae said in a cold tone.
“We haven’t seen each other for four years—weren’t you supposed to arrive tomorrow?” Rin asked, smiling, as if expecting something.
“Yeah, I got free early,” Sae replied as he looked around.
“Right… You know, I saw you on TV, in the news—you played in matches, even scored. Incredible, bro. But you’ve wasted away, haven’t you?” Rin said, his voice bright with excitement.
“Yeah… Look, Rin—the world’s huge, and I found people far better than me,” Sae said indifferently.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rin asked, confused.
“Listen, Rin—I no longer want to become the world’s best striker,” Sae said, extending his hand.
“I’ve decided I’ll become the world’s best midfielder,” he added with a serious look.
Rin was surprised. “What do you mean? You’re a striker—why become something else?”
“Shut up—only those who haven’t seen the world say that,” Sae replied coldly. His words punched at Rin, who bit his lip.
“What’s this news? You said you’d be the best striker. What about me? We were supposed to play together—you said you’d wait!” Rin demanded without a trace of emotion on his face.
“Yes, that’s why I’m saying I’ll be the world’s best midfielder, and you’ll be the world’s best striker, and together we…” Sae began.
“Bro—stop! What about Mom? What about Dad? What about Raiha?” Rin’s face matched his calm words.
“Don’t you dare bring them into this—they’re not involved,” Sae replied, eyes cold.
“And another thing—why didn’t you tell me about Mom’s condition? You guys had a problem—I could’ve helped,” he said angrily.
Rin fell silent, not knowing what to say.
“Answer me, Rin! Answer—why didn’t you say anything when I came home and didn’t see Mom, when I found her in the hospital in worse condition and learned from the doctor that she didn’t have much time left? Did you do that just because I left?” Sae’s anger didn’t stop.
“One time, Raiha and I visited the hospital, talked about the future, and Mom told me not to tell you anything—she made me promise. I wanted to tell you,” he began.
“And you withheld it? She’s our mother—why didn’t you tell me? That was your reason. If you had told me, none of this would’ve happened,” Sae let his voice calm, but rage still burned inside.
“I don’t know. I just…I thought Dad didn’t tell you, so I shouldn’t either. But Brother—why did you change your dream? You came to tell me your new dream—what is this nonsense? I would’ve understood if you came just to ask about Mom. I never wanted that, and Mom told me not to distract you. And now I see you like this…you never called me or Dad after you left. You’re not my bro—not the one I made a promise with,” Rin said, voice sad; tears ran and he sobbed.
“Crybaby—apparently you don’t get it. To prove it—about football, about what real life sounds like—it you beat me here and now, I’ll take my words back. But if I win, we end this dream, our old bond. You will no longer call me ‘older brother.’” Sae said, cold and resolute.
“Don’t decide that yourself—what if I lose?” Rin said, confused.
“That’s why I’m saying you must beat me here and now—if you’re not ready to learn what those words mean,” said Sae with the same expression.
“Stop talking nonsense, bro—you’ve taken too much on yourself,” Rin answered angrily.
“Let’s start, Rin—first goal,” Sae attacked.
“Why are you doing this, bro…” thought Rin, wondering.
“Wait!” he said as Sae launched forward. Sae used the scissors feint.
“Scissors… how fast!” Rin, still not understanding.
Then Sae used a double touch to bypass Rin.
“I can chase double touch and that quick move,” Rin thought.
Sae stopped the ball with the outside of his foot.
“His dribbling’s on a different level—he didn’t show this in Japan,” Rin thought.
Then Sae unleashed another trick—a magical turn.
“He doesn’t give a chance to think—so this is the level he reached after seeing the world,” Rin thought as he chased Sae.
But then Sae used a rouletta feint, the ball passing through his legs.
“Rin, what have you been doing the past four years?” Sae said indifferently.
“This is the game of the current Itoshi Sae… and there’s such a gap between us,” Rin thought, watching Sae score a goal.
“Done, Rin. Now I’ll tell you something afterward…” Sae began.
“Wait, bro—I told you I would become Japan’s best, like you. I worked hard after you left—for Mom, Dad, Raiha. And as I promised, I became the best in Japan. But I don’t get why…when you left, Mom got sick. I tried everything, studied, helped Dad, raised Raiha, gave her what she wanted. Now I see you, and doubts about you hold me back… I wish I hadn’t started football,” Rin said through tears, looking down.
“Then quit and disappear,” Sae snapped. “You say you didn’t call or message—we tried, but we couldn’t. Do you understand how it felt every day wanting to write, call, know how you were? When I saw Raiha, home after school, in 4th grade, cooking thinking of me—hearing that Mom was sick—do you think I ignored it? You’re an idiot if you think that. You don’t understand what I felt then. What a crybaby you are, Rin, and after all this you came to calm me down? You’re an annoying little brother. ‘Best in Japan,’ my replacement—don’t be ridiculous. You make me sick. Stop using me as a reason for making football or anything else. And you might have seen someone special in me, but to me you’re just an annoying younger brother. Don’t delude yourself—if you think we’re family after all this, you’re worthless. You have no place in my life. Disappear, Rin.” Sae said with a hateful look.
“Bro…” murmured Rin as Sae left.
When his bro walked off into the snowy wind, Rin ran after him—but stumbled and fell.
“No, Sae, why?” he cried hysterically. The world seemed frozen except for him.
When his big brother walked away into the snowy wind, Rin sprinted after him—but he stumbled and fell to the ground.
“Ni‑saaaaan! Why?” he screamed, crying in hysteria. Everything around him froze, and no one but Rin could move. Pulling himself to his feet, Rin ended his training. He gathered his things and left the stadium.
Time passed, and Rin arrived home. He quietly opened the door and slipped inside so as not to disturb his sister and father, who were home at that moment. Rin took off his shoes and began to head upstairs, planning to retreat to his room. But as he was climbing the stairs,—
“Ni‑san, what are you doing? Didn’t they teach you to say you’re home whenever you come in? So, how was practice today?” his little sister appeared and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“I’m fine, Raiha. How are you? How’s school? I hope you did well today,” he said softly, tenderness in his eyes.
“It’s all good, ni‑san. Ni‑san, did you see big brother? He came by and talked to me, then left without saying a word,” Raiha said, sounding a bit sad.
“Yeah, I met him too. We chatted, but he seemed out of sorts—so don’t worry about it,” he replied with a small, sad smile.
“Ni‑san, I thought when big brother came, we’d all go out this weekend,” Raiha said, feeling down.
Rin looked at her in surprise. “Okay, it’s no big deal if ni‑san doesn’t want to go—he’s probably busy. But I promise, once I find a job and earn some money, the two of us will go out together,” he said.
Raiha brightened upon hearing his promise. “Really? Really? Then I’ll ask Dad to find a job for you sooner,” she exclaimed, running off after saying this.
After she left, Rin went upstairs to his room. He sat down and turned on the TV, watching a football match featuring his older brother.
As the TV played loudly, his brother appeared on screen.
“Brother is truly incredible… he was right about everything,” Rin thought. He grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.
“Enough with football. Sae was right—everything I did was wrong. Not telling him about Mom, about our financial struggles… Mom’s time is running out, even though we still visit her. It’s hard for me to see her suffering. I just wanted life with my brother. Maybe I should never have started playing football.”
“But it seems I was only a stepping-stone for his career—when I became useless to him, he forgot me.”
“Was Sae the brother I knew even real? Then I should never have agreed to go with him.”
As he thought this, his body slid out of bed, and he rushed to his wardrobe full of photos and trophies. He swept them to the floor with a gesture, each framed picture shattered—except for one that remained intact: a photo of a girl standing at sunset near the Kyoto Tower.
“No, no, no, no, no…” he stood above the wardrobe, gripping its edge. “These emotions… time spent with him, with the family—it can’t be a lie. I couldn’t have invented it…” His eyes were bloodshot.
“I will destroy that bastard… I will destroy the bastard who destroyed my life,” he thought through clenched teeth, the anger burning inside him.
As he knocked things over, he heard footsteps approaching below.
“Ni‑san, what are you doing up there? Dad called you—please come downstairs,” Raiha called through the door.
He calmed and took a deep breath, cleaning up his things. He threw away broken glass and frames, keeping the intact photo and placing it in an album. He tidied his room, opened the door, and stepped out to take one more look before heading down.
Descending, he noticed his father wearing a serious expression.
“R‑R‑Rin, sit down. I need to talk to you,” his father said, voice trembling. Rin fetched a chair and sat.
“What did you want to discuss, Father? About Sae?” Rin asked coldly.
“No, not that. I want to talk about this… We made a mistake by not telling him about Mom. Now he won’t speak to me. I believe he came to your training this evening, right?” his father began.
“Yes… he did,” Rin answered. His father, realizing Rin would say no more, continued, “But that’s not the main thing, Rin. I just got a call from the hospital… they said your mother… has passed away.”
His father began to cry. “W‑what?” Rin heard and felt something he never expected, as if millions of needles pierced his chest.
Tears filled his eyes. He stood up from the chair and fled the kitchen, heading upstairs and locking himself in his room.
“Rin, wait!” his father cried—but Rin understood it was better not to run away. His father did not follow.
Rin fell into full-blown panic, clutching at his head as memories of his mother raced through his mind:
“No, no, no, no, no… this can’t be happening. It can’t. I don’t believe it… Why, why, why, why? It’s my fault—I couldn’t protect her as I promised my brother. Brother… it’s all his fault. When he left, she got sick. This illness… it was because he came back today and ruined my life. Mom died because of him… I hate him. I’ll destroy him… I’ll destroy him,” Rin told himself as Sae’s face flashed in his mind.
When he finally stopped covering his ears, he climbed into bed and fell asleep—unexpectedly.
---
Two days later, Rin, drenched in depression, said farewell to his mother’s body as she was laid to rest.
A light rain drifted, and snowflakes whispered down onto umbrellas and hooded heads, as if the weather itself held its breath. An earthy scent of moisture, wet ground, and dying flowers filled the air. Everything seemed slowed to a hush. A coffin adorned with white lilies stood by an open grave. The air was heavy and cold—no birds, no wind—just drops and silence.
Rin stood to the left side of the coffin, his face set like stone. Under his eyes were the shadows of sleepless nights. He stared at his mother, as though afraid that blinking might make her disappear forever.
Looking back, he saw his brother standing off apart from everyone else. His appearance was the worst Rin had seen all day. Rin felt anger, but he restrained himself because Mom was still there.
His brother’s jaw was clenched, arms crossed, fingernails digging into his palms. In his eyes burned something unbearably intense: rage, hurt, pain—all mixed into a frozen storm.
Beside Rin stood Raiha. She was crying, her eyes cold as she faced the coffin. Rin didn’t want her to feel what he felt.
“Mommy…” she whispered in a trembling voice and stepped closer to the grave.
Rin slowly bent down and placed his hand on her shoulder. She shivered but didn’t pull away. He wanted to say something, but the words were caught in his throat. All he could do was stand by her side.
Nearby, their father stood tall, his temples graying, clad in an expensive black coat. He looked out of place—as if a stranger at his own funeral. His face was cold, like marble. He didn’t cry—only occasionally sighed heavily, staring away from the coffin, avoiding making eye contact.
He never approached the children.
“Everything’s over,” he whispered, almost to himself, as if drawing a conclusion. “Everything that was, died with her.”
Rin whipped his head around and met his father’s gaze. There was nothing there—no pain, no regret—only coldness. That coldness ignited a fire within Rin.
When Raiha had moved from the coffin toward their father, he remained standing there alone, staring at the grave as others began to leave.
“Mom…” Rin whispered, lowering his eyes. “Forgive me…”