Boring

The day was cloudy, but not dark enough; at nine in the morning, in the courtyard inside a school, a championship was taking place.

"Only two minutes left in the game! A fierce clash between Richter School's team and our beloved Turing School's team. 3-3 in a fierce battle in the final of the national youth championship!" shouted the game's narrator seated at a table near the futsal court.

The crowd was frenetic and almost deafening; the number of people watching that match was certainly impressive. On the court, everyone ran as if their lives depended on it, the boys from Richter School in yellow and blue uniforms chased after him, doing everything to stop that blond boy who ran tirelessly. The ball at his feet, controlled with the skill of national league professionals. One, two, three opponents advanced towards him only to be dribbled without mercy or a chance to do anything, and then a powerful goal.

"It's over!" shouted the narrator with unparalleled excitement, surpassed only by the crowd. "It's over! In the final seconds of the game, our team captain scored the decisive goal, finally ending this tie! Turing School takes the title as the champion of the National Futsal Championship!"

The Turing School players, wearing white and red shirts, rushed to their captain, a tall, handsome, fit, and somewhat strong boy. They all clustered around him, his teammates praising how amazing he was, so many compliments that would make someone's day.

"You were so good, Alex! Amazing as always."

"Yeah! How do you manage to be so skilled?"

"Dude, you dribbled all of them, how do you do that?"

The boy fell silent for a moment, until a smile appeared on his face.

"Easy, guys, it's not that big of a deal, I just did what I had to do to win."

"How can you say you weren't amazing! You're definitely going to end up in the professional league."

The celebration began moments later and lasted until midnight. Alex was one of the few who stayed there, alone, leaving through the school gates, wearing a coat to withstand the winter cold when he was stopped by a strange figure. He didn't seem intimidated or scared; she was smaller than him, Elizabeth, a girl from his class, a beautiful girl with green eyes and brown hair.

"Elizabeth..." said Alex, surprised to see his best friend alone so late at night.

"Hi Alex, I saw your game," she said with a sweet voice, her gaze fixed on Alexander's face.

"Saw it, huh? What did you think?"

She approached him, standing face to face.

"Everyone must have said this already, but it was amazing. You were once again the best."

"Oh come on, cut it out, I didn't play that well."

"Of course, you did! You scored almost all the goals by yourself."

"I didn't do it alone; I had help from my friends."

"They just stood there watching, they didn't do much; you did everything by yourself."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I just wanted to say how well you played."

"I'm flattered, but it's late, and I need to go," he said, trying to continue his path, but Elizabeth interrupted him.

"I wanted to give you something, but I couldn't because of the celebration." She took something out of her bag, a letter in an envelope, with a heart-shaped seal. This impressed Alex; widened eyebrows revealed that.

"What's this?"

"A letter, I want you to read it but not here, at home, and I want you to give me the answer tomorrow. Can you promise me that?"

"Of course, I give you my word."

She moved forward and hugged him, which surely startled him, but he repeated what she did, wrapping her in his arms. Looking at her once more, with a smile on his face. After a few more seconds, they said goodbye, where the futsal team captain walked the streets to his home while the girl took her path.

"Four goals," muttered Alexander, his pace quickening with each passing second. "Four goals," he muttered again. "Four goals, and those useless pricks did nothing. Attackers who don't attack, defenders who don't defend, a goalkeeper with no strength in his hands, useless, all useless," he muttered, his tone furious, fists clenched, expression filled with anger to the point where veins bulged. Empty eyes, pale, lifeless, soulless. He took the letter Elizabeth had given him, staring at the heart seal on the letter, remembering the feelings the girl had shown to him, that she had always shown to him, and he tore it apart. "Useless."

It seemed that the fury in his body subsided, but he stopped to breathe, perhaps because of the cold gnawing at his nostrils.

"Why... Why is everyone useless, still fawning over me just because I do what needs to be done, boring. Today was the final of the national championship; I should be at home. I missed the Ever Magic event; it was supposed to be the war festival between all the guilds, a total war among the best in the world, all those beneath me who wish to overthrow me in one place, and I missed it! I missed it because I have to represent these useless people, they can't even kick a ball. I missed something that would've been really interesting. I'm quitting this damn team; I'm going to look for something interesting."

He grumbled, looking up, seeing the starry sky, the rare lights of the stars penetrating the dark city. It was beautiful to see, he admitted, but something stopped his observation, lights zigzagging back and forth, bright lights coming quickly towards him, and before he realized it, he was hit.

The sound of the sirens was deafening, both ambulances and firefighters were there, striving to remove that boy from between the wreckage, was the driver drunk? Not much of him was left, just an arm between the crushed metal.

"Damn, are you still alive, kid? He's alive!" shouted one of the firefighters, holding a saw to cut the piece of steel that pierced Alexander's belly. "Kid, what's your name? Tell me your name, keep your head up, don't lower your head!"

"...Boring ..." mumbled pain-filled groans.

"Boring? Keep going, keep talking, tell me your mother and father's name."

"...Boring..." The destroyed face, the body weak, the empty soulless eyes, losing the shine it never had when life left that body. "I just wanted... something interesting."

Alexander Loren, born on August tenth, 2006, deceased on June seventh, 2024, may he rest in peace.

"Heat..."

A voice in an empty place.

"I feel heat in my chest... But it's so cold outside..."

Darkness, darkness, and cold.

"I can't breathe... My chest burns, but I feel trapped..."

A strange sensation, stranger than that, pain, a pain in his head, as if someone had struck him hard.

"My head hurts... Why... cold... heat..."

In that cold and unknown darkness, a beam of light appeared, he opened his eyes, only to witness a light capable of blinding him.

"Shura!"

A voice could be heard, a strange distant voice, calling out to him, pleading.

"Shura!"

Calling for a name, calling for someone.

"Shura!"

He opened his eyes, he was no longer in the darkness, his vision still distorted, his head hurting like never before. There was something in front of him, someone, his hearing still bad, his consciousness nervous, it was a girl.

"Shura! Thank the gods you've awakened."

He tried to raise his arms, his hands still trembling, his body weak and numb.

"I... I... what happened..." he muttered.

"Shura, don't talk, catch your breath. Oh, there's blood coming from the wound..."

What was a voice became a jumble of voices, all with the same tone, desperate, concerned.

"Shura!"

"Son!"

"Brother!"

It was still difficult to understand what had happened, an intense cold in his belly, as if he felt the piece of steel that pierced his stomach in the accident, but there was nothing there. Despite so many things and voices, bad consciousness, bad body, he saw one thing, in the distance shining, it was like a message, a large translucent square.

"!!!Welcome player!!!"