Chapter 35 : (Title at the End)

The ball was at Rin's feet as the match kicked off, and he was determined not to let things go Isagi's way anymore. This time, Rin was bent on surpassing him, not just in this moment, but in every way possible. Although his mind was focused on crushing Isagi, deep down, he didn't realize he was already viewing him as a player superior to himself—a truth he was unaware of, buried deep in his subconscious.

As Rin kept his run, Aryu and Tokimitsu flanked him on either side, positioning themselves in perfect synchrony, ready for any potential passes. The field stretched out before them, but it was Isagi who stood in Rin's way. As Rin came face to face with him, something changed. His consciousness no longer allowed him to avoid Isagi as he had before, that split-second decision of evasion now lingering in his mind as something almost shameful. It wasn't just a tactical retreat—it had felt like fear. But Rin wasn't going to let that happen again.

This time, he squared up, facing Isagi head-on. With each step, Rin moved with purpose, challenging Isagi directly, not allowing any space for hesitation. Isagi, in turn, mirrored his every move, keeping pace, never giving Rin a moment to slip past him. The battle between them intensified with every second, neither willing to back down, the space between them filled with the electric tension of two players who knew this moment would define them.

Both players moved with explosive speed, their bodies a blur as Rin tried to shake off Isagi's relentless defense. Every time Rin attempted to make a break, Isagi was right there, blocking his path with precision, his eyes locked onto the ball, reading every move. Rin's feet danced around the ball, shifting directions rapidly, desperate to find an opening.

Isagi, however, was quick to react, closing the gaps, and anticipating Rin's every step. He made several attempts to steal the ball, each one calculated and nearly successful. His foot swooped in, brushing the ball just enough to send it skittering away from Rin's control for a split second. For a brief moment, it seemed like the possession would slip from Rin's grasp, but with a swift, reflexive lunge, he regained the ball, his foot pulling it back just in time to keep it from being fully claimed by Isagi.

The battle for possession was fierce, each player fighting not just for control of the ball, but for dominance in this crucial moment. Rin's heart pounded as he lost and regained the ball in the same heartbeat, his focus narrowing down to just the ball and Isagi's shadow, never allowing either to slip away.

Isagi's patience had finally worn thin. He lunged forward, eyes fixed on the ball, planning to send it directly toward Nagi on the right with a well-timed tackle. But Rin's instincts, honed from years of practice and sharp awareness, seemed to take over in that critical moment. In the blink of an eye, Rin executed a move that took everyone by surprise—he flicked the ball up with a rainbow flick, sending it high above Isagi's head, a graceful arc that left the defender momentarily frozen in place.

Although caught off guard, Isagi's focus didn't falter. His leg, which had been mid-air for the tackle, slammed down on the ground the second it landed. Without hesitation, he spun on his heel, his body surging forward with a burst of speed. In an instant, Isagi closed the gap, catching up to Rin. With a calculated movement, he stretched his leg out, aiming to disrupt Rin's balance and reclaim possession of the ball.

But Rin was no longer just reacting. He was in a trance, completely absorbed in the game, his mind and body moving with a singular purpose: to defeat his opponent. Without looking, he tapped the ball to his right. It slipped through the narrow space between Isagi's legs—a perfect nutmeg, just as Isagi had done to him in the previous play.

It was at that moment, with the ball passing smoothly through Isagi's legs, that he noticed something—a subtle but undeniable shift in Rin's demeanor. His face, which Isagi had been too focused on the game to fully study, now caught his attention. Rin's tongue hung out of his mouth, a physical manifestation of the intense concentration and aggression now pulsing through him. His eyes were wide, unfocused, locked solely on the goal, and there was a fierce determination on his face. This wasn't the cool, calculating player Isagi was used to facing. This was something different—a side of Rin awakened by the pressure of their rivalry, a side that was completely consumed by the desire to crush his opponent.

Isagi had sparked it. His dominant performance, his relentless defense, had pushed Rin to this point—to the awakening of something powerful, something raw that shouldn't have surfaced so early. But now that it was unleashed, Rin was a force to be reckoned with.

Isagi's eyes widened in surprise as he watched Rin, his body fully in the zone—this was a Rin he had never seen before, and it both surprised and intrigued him.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The ball was already heading to Tokimitsu, who had positioned himself perfectly to receive it. As Tokimitsu controlled the ball, Nagi, quick as ever, closed in on him, determined to steal it away. But Tokimitsu, with his broad shoulders and powerful build, was like a wall. Nagi, despite his agility, found himself unable to get past, as Tokimitsu kept his ground, holding the ball with surprising ease.

Rin, sensing an opportunity, surged ahead, his legs carrying him with unrelenting speed. Isagi, still processing the rapid shift in the game, followed closely behind, marking Rin with pinpoint precision. He knew that with Rin's newfound drive, any lapse in focus could result in disaster. Isagi kept up, his eyes never leaving Rin, anticipating every move, every slight change in direction, knowing this was far from over.

The tension between them grew. Isagi was no longer just defending Rin—he was in a battle of wills, aware that the stakes had risen, that this was a moment neither of them could afford to lose.

Tokimitsu's cross soared through the air, carrying just a touch too much power. It sailed high, curving toward the left side of the penalty box, teetering on the edge of being unplayable. Rin was already in motion, adapting to the cross with effortless precision, his movements a blend of instinct and calculation. 

But he wasn't alone. A blur of motion caught the corner of his eye—Kurona. Though his legs screamed with exhaustion, Kurona pushed through, his determination burning brighter than his fatigue. His relentless running throughout the match had drained his stamina, but in this moment, he found the strength for one last sprint. Kurona was closing in on the ball, ready to trap it and turn the tide of the play.

Yet, Rin reached it first. 

With a leap that defied the heaviness of the match, Rin soared into the air, his chest meeting the ball with perfect timing. The impact was controlled and precise, the ball cushioned as it dropped back into his possession. Kurona, despite his effort, was a second too late. 

Isagi, who had been watching the play unfold with unwavering focus, was already on the move. He sprinted ahead, positioning himself directly in Rin's path, cutting off any immediate route to the goal. 

Rin landed, the ball at his feet, his sharp eyes meeting Isagi's. For a moment, the world seemed to pause, the intensity between them suffocating. Rin didn't flinch. Instead, he began to move diagonally, stepping outside the penalty box. His back was now to the goal, a seemingly counterintuitive decision that sent alarm bells ringing in Isagi's mind.

'What's he doing?' 

Isagi thought, his instincts on high alert. Rin wasn't reckless—every move he made had a purpose. But stepping out of the box after gaining such an advantageous position was unlike him. The uncertainty of Rin's intent gnawed at Isagi. He couldn't afford to wait and see. 

Isagi surged forward, closing the distance between them. Rin, standing just outside the box, shifted his weight, lowering into a shooting stance. His body language was perfect—textbook execution, a motion drilled into muscle memory through years of practice. Everything about it screamed that he was about to take the shot. 

Isagi's heart pounded, but his focus didn't waver. As Rin swung his leg forward, Isagi prepared to intercept. But then, Rin's foot stopped short of the ball. It was a fake—a masterful one, executed with such precision that even Isagi, with all his anticipation, felt his body instinctively react. For the briefest moment, Isagi's mind flickered with doubt, his balance shifting ever so slightly. 

But Isagi's training, his instinct, and his sheer determination kicked in. He didn't commit fully to the fake, staying on his feet and regaining his footing just in time. His eyes locked onto Rin, his movements sharp and calculated. 

Rin adjusted his stance once more, the ball at his feet as he moved slightly away from Isagi. His body language was deliberate, his every movement brimming with purpose. With his left foot poised, Rin struck the ball with precision, his gaze fixed on the top-left corner of the goal. 

Isagi, sharp and relentless, caught the intent in Rin's posture. His instincts screamed at him to act, and he did. Throwing his leg into the trajectory, he aimed to block what seemed like a clear shot toward the top-left. 

But Rin's brilliance wasn't in the obvious. His calculated focus, the razor-sharp intensity honed through endless practice, had taken this moment to a different level. What Isagi perceived as Rin's aim—a deliberate look toward the top-left corner—was nothing more than a diversion. Rin's true target had always been the top-right corner. 

This deception wasn't just an act of strategy—it was a testament to Rin's growth in the match. The overwhelming need to crush Isagi, to assert dominance, had awakened something primal and creative in him. A no-look shot, a move Rin had never fully considered or trusted himself to execute, now felt within reach. In this heightened state of focus and hunger, he dared to push his limits.

As Rin struck the ball, his body language still sold the illusion of a shot to the left. Isagi's leg extended, anticipating the trajectory. But in reality, Rin's foot angled the ball toward the top-right corner. 

The ball zipped through the narrow space between Isagi's legs—a nutmeg shot so precise it was almost surreal. Isagi's reflexes kicked in, his body twisting to react to the unexpected direction, but it was futile. He was too close, too committed to the fake trajectory to recover in time.

The ball soared, its flight impeccable, arcing toward the top-right corner of the goal with pinpoint accuracy. The shot was nothing short of extraordinary—a move born of desperation, brilliance, and an unyielding desire to dominate. 

In that moment, Rin wasn't just playing against Isagi; he was proving something to himself. The nutmeg shot wasn't just a goal—it was a statement, a culmination of his resolve to break through his limits and leave no doubt about who stood above.

The sharp tone of the intercom rang out, signaling the goal as the ball nestled firmly in the back of the net. The score now stood at 4-2, Rin stood motionless, his chest rising and falling heavily, his expression blank as if his mind struggled to process what had just occurred.

Then, like a dam breaking, it hit him. The weight of what he had just accomplished surged through his veins. The dazed look in his eyes was replaced by unbridled intensity, and from deep within, a triumphant shout tore out of him, echoing across the field. His voice carried the raw emotion of the moment, the culmination of all his frustration, focus, and determination. 

As the adrenaline coursed through his body, Rin finally pulled his tongue back into his mouth, his composure slowly returning. Yet, the fire in his eyes remained, a stark reminder of the awakening he had just experienced.

He had done it. In that fleeting yet monumental moment, Rin had defeated Isagi—not just with brute force, but with skill, cunning, and raw hunger. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Rin had outmaneuvered Isagi, a player who had overshadowed him for the past four goals.

The taste of victory was unlike anything Rin had felt before. After being locked in Isagi's shadow, enduring the relentless pressure and helplessness that came with being outplayed, this goal wasn't just another score. It was vindication. It was proof that he could rise above, that his skills were still unparalleled when pushed to their peak.

He had crushed Isagi in that moment, and it felt nothing short of euphoric.

"Damn, that was crazy. He got you good, huh?" 

Nagi's casual voice cut through the lingering tension as he walked over to Isagi, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his expression as neutral as ever.

Isagi didn't respond immediately, his eyes still locked on Rin, who stood on the other side of the field basking in the afterglow of his moment of triumph. 

"Where the hell were you for that entire play?" 

Kurona's voice came from the ground, filled with irritation as he lay sprawled out, panting heavily. His chest heaved with each breath, exhaustion painted clearly across his face.

"That muscle-head kept me busy" 

Nagi replied, plopping down onto the ground beside Kurona. 

"Didn't let me pass to help in defense. Try going against him yourself." 

He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, relishing the brief moment of rest before the inevitable continuation of the game.

Kurona groaned, clearly unsatisfied with Nagi's explanation. Meanwhile, Nagi stretched his arms lazily and sighed. 

"Man, I wish this match would end already."

At those words, the energy around them shifted. A voice, calm yet sharp, cut through the air. 

"...You want that?"

Both Nagi and Kurona snapped their heads toward the familiar sound, immediately recognizing the figure whose back was turned to them. 

It was Isagi.

His stance was firm, his body radiating determination, but it was his tone that grabbed their attention. It wasn't bitter or defeated. It was steady, curious, almost playful. 

"...What do you mean?" Kurona asked, his irritation giving way to confusion.

"A quick win" 

Isagi said, turning to face them fully. His eyes sparkled with intensity, and a confident smile spread across his face. 

"You want that?"

Kurona and Nagi exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. But before they could say anything, Isagi took a step forward, his presence commanding their attention. There wasn't a shred of despair in him. Losing to Rin in that play hadn't shaken him—it had done the opposite. It had lit a fire.

"Because I don't" 

Isagi continued, his voice unwavering. 

"I don't want this match to end quickly. I want it to go on until I can tear him apart. Until I crush Rin, and show him—and everyone else—what I'm capable of."

Nagi's eyes widened slightly, and even Kurona found himself staring in awe. There was something electric about Isagi in this moment. He wasn't just playing the game anymore; he was living for it, thriving in the chaos and challenge.

"Get ready" 

Isagi said, his gaze shifting back toward the field where Rin stood waiting. 

"Because the next time, it's not going to be him getting the better of me." 

With those words, Isagi began walking back to his position, leaving his teammates speechless. The fire in his eyes made one thing clear: this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

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Chapter 35 : Awakening: Clash Of Titans

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