"You're Mine!"
Six years ago, at the top floor of the Mikage Building.
The sprawling cityscape glittered through the massive windows.
Mikage Reo sat comfortably in his bedroom.
Engrossed in a video game.
His fingers tapped away rhythmically.
The soft glow of the screen illuminating his sharp features.
Behind him, the slightly ajar door creaked open.
His parents peeked in before stepping inside.
Shutting the door gently behind them.
Reo glanced back, pausing his game.
"Oh, Mom, Dad. What's up?"
After a brief exchange of hugs, his father spoke.
"Reo, you were born to carry on everything I've built."
His tone was firm.
Carrying the weight of expectation.
"This company—our legacy—will be yours to lead one day. Think of it as the means to achieve whatever goals you seek."
Before Reo could respond.
His mother chimed in with a softer voice.
"Honey, stop with that talk already. Reo has his own life to live."
She turned to her son, her expression warm.
"Reo, if there's anything bothering you, just tell Mommy, okay?"
Reo nodded politely.
But his mind had already wandered.
"Boring. All of this is so boring..."
…
Time passed, and Reo's life seemed picture-perfect.
He was popular in high school.
Effortlessly talented in academics, sports, and socializing.
Yet none of it sparked joy in him.
Everything felt too easy.
As he hung out with a group of friends one afternoon.
His thoughts drifted.
"Things that are easily attainable are dull. I want something unique. My own treasure—something extraordinary."
That realization had struck during his first year of high school.
And it lingered in his mind.
One night, while absentmindedly flipping channels in his room.
Reo stumbled upon a World Cup match.
The energy, the stakes, and the sheer glory captivated him instantly.
"This… this is what I want!"
He exclaimed to himself.
Driven by newfound purpose.
Reo stormed into his parents' office late that night.
The room was grand, with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the glittering city below.
"I want to play football."
Reo announced.
Determination blazing in his eyes.
"I'm going to join a team and compete to win the World Cup."
His father's response was immediate and cold.
"No."
Reo froze.
"Why? You've always supported my goals before."
His father's gaze hardened.
"Because it's unrealistic. Football is for the chosen few. You're not one of them. Stick to what's practical—like managing this company."
His mother added gently.
"We just want what's best for you, Reo. Graduate from an elite university, become an elite businessman. That's your path."
But Reo wasn't listening.
Their words faded into the background as frustration boiled within him.
"They're not the ones who get to decide what I want."
…
The next day.
Reo resolved to lead his school's mediocre football team to the national championship.
He was brainstorming how to elevate the team when something unexpected happened.
Descending the stairs from the second floor.
He muttered under his breath.
"Ah, screw it all!"
Before he could vent further.
His foot lightly bumped into someone sitting on the stairs.
Engrossed in their phone.
"My bad."
Reo apologized immediately.
The phone slipped from the person's grasp.
Tumbling toward the first floor.
Without hesitation, the figure lunged after it.
Leaping down the stairs.
Reo watched, stunned.
As the person landed gracefully.
Trapping the phone under their foot with pinpoint precision.
"Whoa!"
Reo exclaimed.
"That was amazing! Are you in the football club?"
The person muttered.
"Oh, good. Still got HP left…"
Before focusing back on their screen.
Reo dashed down the stairs to meet him.
"Hey, seriously! That was incredible! Do you want to play football with me?"
The person finally turned to face him.
"Oh, you're that rich kid, right? Cool. Hand over some money."
Reo blinked.
"Huh?"
"Football sounds annoying. I'd rather just chill. So, money?"
Reo couldn't believe his ears.
"Wait a second! I saw what you did with your phone. You've got talent!"
He leaned closer.
His excitement bubbling over.
"Play football with me! If we work together, we can go pro!"
The person hesitated.
His gaze flicking back to his phone.
"If I have to work hard, that sounds annoying. No thanks."
Reo's heart skipped a beat.
For the first time, he saw it.
The rare, raw potential his father spoke of.
"This guy is chosen by football. He's the one I've been looking for…"
He thought.
"Fine!"
Reo declared.
Wrapping an arm around the person, startling him.
"Then don't work hard! Just play with me!"
The person scratched his head lazily.
"I just want to chill and play my phone games. Football sounds like a pain."
Reo wasn't deterred.
In fact, the person's dismissive attitude only fueled his desire to convince him.
He crouched slightly.
Meeting his eyes at his level.
"Look, you don't need to worry about all the work. I'll take care of everything—the training, the plans, everything. You just need to show up and do your thing."
The person tilted his head.
Mildly intrigued.
"Huh? You'd do all the hard stuff? So, I don't have to run around and stuff?"
"Exactly!"
Reo grinned.
Clapping him on the shoulder.
"Well, you do have to run here and there. But I'll make it fun for you and you can keep playing your games when we're not on the field."
He continues.
"And if you don't like it after a while, I'll back off… Deal?"
The person stared at him for a moment, considering.
"…Sounds like less effort than other things."
Reo leaned in.
"It's less effort and more rewarding! Plus…"
He paused dramatically.
"I'll buy you a new phone if you agree."
At the mention of a new phone.
Nagi's eyes lit up for the first time.
"A new phone? Really?"
"Top-of-the-line."
Reo promised.
"Whatever you want."
The person sighed.
Finally introducing himself.
"...Seishiro Nagi."
Reo then extended his hand.
"Mikage Reo!"
After a moment's hesitation.
Nagi shook it.
Reo couldn't help but grin widely.
"Let's win the World Cup, together!"