Chapter Text
Within the world of soccer first class defenders,goalies and midfielders can be raised but strikers are something different entirely
They are born with hunger. Like a hunger game where you need to strike to survive
The Creatures Known As First-Class Strikers...
Newspaper
In the 2018 soccer world cup Japan lost in the best sixteen.
National High School Soccer Championship
Saitama Prefectural Finals
ICHINAN HIGH SCHOOL LOST TO MATSUKAZE KOKUO
(0-2)
"Go, go Isagi, go!!!!”
“This is our last chance, Isagi-chan!!!!”
The voices from the bench blurred together, sharp, desperate, clinging to hope.
Isagi’s teammates sitting on the bench cheered for her.
“If I win this… my team will go to Nationals,” The word repeated in her head like a chant. Burn her spirit to win the game
‘National, National, National, National, National, National…’
She chanted like a mantra in her mind. Her eyes full of strong determination, passion, and fighting spirit to achieve victory. She is willing to push herself to the limit, give maximum effort, and not give up until she wins.
Isagi Yoichi, a female who plays football and a second-year student at Ichinan High School, has been playing football since she was five years old. Her passion for the sport led her to join her school football team despite her gender.
Isagi’s POV
The ball was at my feet. The goal in sight.
My chest burned from the sprint, sweat dripping into my eyes blurring my view but I ignore it. I didn’t blink. I couldn’t. Not now. All my focus is the goal and to win this game. The ball at my feet, waiting for it to be kick into the goal. I could feel it. I could feel my adrenaline increase.
This is it.
The moment I’ve dreamed about since I was five.
Nationals.
As I got closer to the goal, my body aligned without thought hips angled, ankle locked, weight shifting forward the only thing I could think about was shooting the ball—
until Tada-chan called out for me to pass since he was open.
“Isagi! Pass! I’m open!”
His voice stabbed through my focus, making me turn toward him.
Unmarked. Perfect position.
He was open.
Passing meant safety. Points. Victory.
He’s right.
If I pass, we’ll get one point and we could win this match.
But why did I feel it was wrong to pass him the ball? Is there something wrong with me?
Why did my body scream SHOOT IT?
Why did every instinct curl in my gut and whisper-
Don’t pass. Don’t give it away. Claim it. It's Your Time To Shine—
“What are you doing, Isagi?! It’s all over if we don’t get this!!”
My coach’s scream startled me, snapping my thoughts. I looked into his direction, my coach was shouting from the sidelines, his arm slicing through the air as he signaled for me to pass the ball to Tada-chan.
Annoyed but pressured, I still passed the ball to Tada-chan for him to score but...
CLANG!!!
The sound was brutal. Metal against rubber. Hope against reality. It bounced off the post and rolled back into the field like it was mocking me.
He missed.
He fucking missed the goal!!!!
The ball ricocheted like it had personal beef with physics.
I was stunned and didn’t realize the rebound rolled straight to Kira Ryosuke, the enemy team’s ace.
Matsukaze Kokuo’s golden boy.
The sun of the field, with every teammate orbiting around him.
“Kiraaa!! Finish it!”
“Ace! Lead us!”
He moved like the ball belonged to him since birth.
One touch.
One step.
One clean strike.
THUD.
The net shook.
0–2.
The stadium roared. The crowd went wild
I stood there, hollow. Already past the point of feeling the loss.
Not in agony.
Not in shock.
But regret.
I should’ve shot it.
It was mine.
The moment was mine.
If only I had followed my instinct…
I’m sure we would’ve won.
And that’s it.
My team lost 0–2 to Matsukaze Kokuo.
I looked down at my feet, clenching my teeth, trying to stop my tears from falling.
It's frustrating
And then I could hear footsteps approached.
Soft. Light. Almost gentle.
They didn’t rush,they approached slowly, carefully, as if the world itself might recoil at the wrong move.
I looked up to see who it is.
Kira Ryosuke.
Standing in front of me, looking straight into my eyes.
Up close, he didn’t look like a fierce rival or a cocky ace.
He looked… friendly. Too friendly maybe because his charming feature. Bright, almost puppy-like?
“Um…” He scratched his cheek. “Sorry about earlier.”
SORRY?? FOR WHAT?? IS HE MESSING WITH ME?? The question rang over and over as my thoughts spiraled, unanchored, tearing through my mind with no place to land.
“You passed well,” he added with an earnest smile.
He shifted his weight, hands fidgeting at his sides. “The rebound was just unlucky,” he said softly. “You played great.”
My brain struggled to process the words. Am I hearing he right?
Wasn’t he supposed to trash-talk me? He's my oponent. So why did he care?
Or ignore me?
Or… walk away like a normal rival??
But no. He just smiled like an idiot.
“What’s your name?” he asked. He scratched the back of his neck. And locked eyes with me waiting for the answer
“…Isagi Yoichi.”
Upon hearing my name,his eyes widened slightly. There's his face held an expression I couldn’t quite interpret.
He opened his mouth, closed it, then laughed softly. “Yoichi… huh.” His gaze softened. “That’s a cool name.”
His smile grew even brighter.
CAN SOMEONE HAND ME A CARDBOARD BOX TO COVER HIS FACE???
Before I could find the words, his teammates shouted for him. He jogged off, glancing back with a sheepish, apologetic wave.
Leaving me dazed on the field with a heart full of negativity and… something else I refused to name.
After the Game
The sky bled into pale orange and soft purples as I walked home in silence.
The streets were empty.
Only the steady sound of my footsteps echoed softly against the pavement.
My mind was a storm.
Disappointment churned in my chest until tears slipped one by one down my cheeks.
Everything slipped through my fingers… again.
My dream, My hope, Everything shatter to pieces
I bit my lower lip.
Just before the turn into my neighborhood, I stopped.
A figure stood under the streetlamp, a few meters ahead.
Not moving. Just… watching.
His dark coat fit flawlessly, the hem sharp against his trousers.
A white high-collared knit peeked out from underneath, pristine even in the breeze.
His reddish hair was neatly combed back, framing a face too refined and long under‑lashes that give him a sharp look.
Itoshi Sae.
My breath hitched.
My pulse skipped.
He said nothing.
His gaze met mine. Calm, unreadable.
Like he had been waiting for me.
Like this moment was meant to happen.
Then
“Nyaa.”
A cat brushed against my leg, purring softly.
Startled, I looked down.
A stray. Thin, messy fur, sleepy blue eyes.
I bent to pet it.
“Where did you come from…?” I asked
But when I looked up again
Sae was gone.
No sound.
No trace.
Only the wind and the early dawn silence.
My fingers lingered on the cat’s head.
My chest ached in a way I couldn’t name.
Was he really there…?
The cat purred louder, curling beside my foot.
But the moment had already slipped away.
He's gone..
Again.
At Home
CLACK.
“I’m home…” I dragged myself inside, emotionally dead. Funeral march vibes.
“Welcome home, Yochaaaan~!”
Mom peeked from the kitchen, apron frilly, smile brighter than Kira’s.
“How was your game, my cute and beautiful daughter?”
Cute.
Beautiful.
Me?
The universe needed to pick a genre.
“Stop joking, Mom. We lost… I’m hungry… also emotionally crushed… also hungry…” I cried
“Oh nooo, Mommy even made tonkatsu for your victory celebration…”
She pouted.
I gasped dramatically.
“Mom should’ve made the tonkatsu before the match!! I could’ve won with the power of tonkatsu!!” I say as I still trying to take off my shoes
Dad who already sitting at the dining table burst into laughter, flipping his newspaper as if he read the content on it
Mom gasped like I’d committed blasphemy.
“Alright, alright, don’t sulk, Yochan~” she soothed, patting my head.
I melted instantly. Parent pats are cheat codes.
I love having a happy family without trauma.
It’s not like I’m an anime MC or anything.
I made my way to the dining table and lowered myself into a chair, letting out a quiet sigh as I settled in.
“Oh, by the way, there’s something for you!” Mom handed me a white envelope.
Sender:
Japan Football Association
My stomach dropped.
I opened it with trembling hands.
“Player Improvement Project…?”
My voice cracked in shock.
Mom lit up.
Dad pumped his fist.
“That’s great news!”
“Of course they’d pick you!”
But my brain went silent.
Why me?
Why now?
Then I saw it.
GENDER: MALE
“ARKHHHH what the—?!”
I fell off my chair.
Mom leaned over, squinting at the paper while helping me up.
“Dear… did you forget to change our daughter’s gender on her birth certificate?”
Dad froze like a man meeting God.Cold sweat appeared on his temple
“Hehe… I forgot,” he said, scratching his cheek like it was a small problem.
Mom stared at him.
I stared at him.
Grandpa’s portrait probably stared at him too.
As my parents argued about paperwork negligence, I sat there clutching the letter.
My life…
was about to get way more complicated.
In the bus
The ride home was filled with the soft hum of tired athletes and the squeak of damp cleats. Everyone looked drained.
Everyone except Kira.
He sat by the window, staring at his own reflection like it was a portal to a sweeter reality.
His smile hadn’t left since he stepped onto the bus.
After a while finally, a teammate snapped.
“Ummm bro. Stop smiling. You’re freaking me out.” The person who sitting beside him break the silent. He shifted uncomfortably
Another peeked over the seat, squinting.
“Seriously, Kira, are you in pain? Or possessed? Blink twice if you need help.” The one who sat infront of him joked
Kira blinked… once.
Then he sighed, dreamy and hopelessly honest.
“That girl Isagi which we fought today was… kinda cute. I mean.. she really cute” Kira say as he imagine Isagi face in his head
A unified groan washed through the row.
“Oh my god. Not this.” The guy beside him sigh loudly
“You catch feelings ONE time and suddenly our ace striker becomes a lovesick puppy.” he add
“Why do you look like you’re mentally holding hands with her under a sakura tree?” His other teammate who heard the conversation joked
They joked as they start betting if the girl still remember Kira if they met again.
Kira completely ignored them, lost in replaying that moment where Isagi in confusion furrowing her brows, looking like a kitten discovering the concept of physics
He hugged his bag, cheeks warm. Face flushes red like a boy in love
“I hope when i get to meet her again… Maybe we can talk more or maybe get closer.”
The teammates who's hearing that stared at him.
'We’ve officially lost him.'
'Goodbye Kira, you were strong once.
Rest in romance.'
They sighed in perfect synchronization while Kira continued smiling like he had been cast as the main character in a slow-burn love anime.
Meanwhile… Isagi
Isagi, currently on her way to her home, suddenly sneezed so violently
“Huh? Did someone mention me?” she mumbled, rubbing her nose.
A strange shiver ran down her spine.
Then goosebumps.
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at nothing in particular.
“…The universe is being weird again.”
She hugged her arms, glancing around like someone might jump out of a bush shouting her name.
Of course, no one did.
But somewhere on a bus, a certain boy was smiling at a window like a fool in love.