Chapter 30 – Raichi’s Looking Glass

Raichi grew up in a normal yet bustling household, with a hardworking father, a loving mother, and an annoyingly overprotective older sister. His parents both worked in the television industry. His father was a prominent host, leading talk shows, game shows, and even prestigious events like the Japan Academy Film Prize when Raichi was around eight to ten years old.

Raichi's family was considered very successful, known not just for their professional achievements but also for their charitable work. They often shone a spotlight on causes such as events for orphans and the less fortunate. But what they enjoyed most was organizing local sports events for their community. These neighborhood games were open to everyone, and Raichi's father, along with his friends, fostered a sense of unity and support among their neighbors.

Young Raichi was mesmerized by the adoration his father received. The respect and admiration his father earned for leading a good life planted a seed deep within Raichi's heart. He wanted that same praise, that same recognition. Determined to follow in his father's footsteps, Raichi quickly developed a boisterous, loud personality, always seeking to be the center of attention at the sporting events his family hosted. Of course, being a kid, he had his share of failures, but his small victories were enough to keep him chasing that spotlight.

As he grew older, Raichi began to understand that success wasn't just about showing up or being noticed. It required effort, perseverance, and hard work—something his parents had mastered. But rather than being intimidated by the challenge, Raichi was excited by it. He made up his mind by the age of ten that he would surpass even his parents' success. He wasn't just aiming for a good life; he wanted greatness.

Raichi threw himself into a variety of extracurricular activities. Sports like track and field, football—which he had dabbled in since he was seven—and swimming became his focus. These were sports that held a place on the biggest stages in the world, and Raichi knew that to achieve true success, he'd have to excel in at least one of them.

He trained hard and performed well in track and field and swimming, even claiming second or third place in several middle school tournaments. But football… football was different. It was harder than the others. In track and swimming, it was all about individual effort, but football required teamwork. It required him to cooperate with others to achieve victory, a challenge that made every match feel like a test of not just his abilities, but his patience.

When Raichi joined his middle school football team, his introduction was bold and unapologetic: 

"My name is Raichi Jingo, and my dream is to win the World Cup!"

His declaration was met with stunned silence. It wasn't every day that someone announced such a grand ambition, especially at the middle school level. The coach, though taken aback, responded with a humoring smile. "That's a good dream, Raichi. Keep it up," he said, though his tone didn't match the seriousness of Raichi's intent.

The introductions continued. "I'm Raito Fuwa," said another boy. "My dream is to be the best winger in the country!"

As the season progressed, Raichi grew more and more frustrated. His teammates seemed indifferent, treating football as just another extracurricular activity to pad their resumes with team experience. For Raichi, football was his path to surpassing his parents' success. He wasn't here to participate—he was here to win.

Tensions boiled over during Raichi's second year of middle school. His team had just lost in the regional finals, narrowly missing the chance to qualify for the National Championship. The locker room was filled with dejection, heads hung low as the seniors tried to console the juniors. There was a sense of bittersweet finality, a mix of sadness for their loss and pride in their journey.

But Raichi felt no such warmth. He was disgusted. The team had played terribly—missed chances, needless fouls, and a complete lack of defense had cost them the match. He couldn't take it anymore.

"You guys are pathetic!" Raichi snapped, his voice cutting through the melancholy like a knife. "You're proud of your failures?!"

"Chill out, man," one of his teammates muttered. "There's nothing we can do about it now."

"We'll just try again next year," another added.

"You let them score on us so easily! Don't dodge the question—don't you want to win!?" Raichi's voice rose with every word, his anger simmering into fury. He began pointing out everyone's mistakes, but his teammates weren't about to take his criticism lying down.

"You're one to talk," another player shot back, listing Raichi's own blunders during the game.

Raichi's face flushed with frustration. "You losers can't even train properly, no wonder we lost!"

That was the final straw for Raito. Quiet until now, Raito stood up from his place on the bench, his expression dark. "That's rich, coming from the most useless player on the team," Raito said as he closed the distance between them.

Raichi's fists clenched. "What did you say?!"

"You're just running around like a headless chicken, wasting energy and messing up our defensive formations," Raito countered, his voice calm but biting.

"And you're the worst of them all!" Raichi shot back, rage fueling his words. "The best winger in the country? You can't do anything but that one stupid trick of yours. Do you even work hard for your dream?"

Raito's expression shifted, something snapping inside him. He grabbed Raichi by the collar, pulling him face-to-face. "Do you think you're the only one working hard for their dream?! How conceited can you be?!"

The argument escalated into a full-blown fistfight, fists flying as the locker room erupted into chaos. Their fight nearly marred their academic records, but through some stroke of luck—or perhaps the leniency of the school—they managed to avoid expulsion, receiving only suspensions from the team and school.

Later, as Raichi walked home with his father after the meeting with the principal, the weight of the day's events hung over him. He couldn't help but ask the question that had been gnawing at him. "How did you do it?" Raichi's voice was hoarse from the shouting. "How did you succeed at everything you do? Everything I try just blows up in my face."

His father walked beside him in silence for a moment, their footsteps echoing along the riverbank. "Why do you think you failed?" his father finally asked.

Raichi thought for a second, his sarcasm slipping through. "Because I was passionate? Because everyone around me is a loser?"

His father shot him a look, urging him to answer seriously.

Raichi sighed, calming down. "Is it because of my temper?"

His father chuckled softly. "That temper comes from your mother. But no, that's not the real reason. You failed because you expect instant results. Success doesn't come right away. You'll fail a thousand times before you succeed."

He stopped and turned to Raichi, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I kept going," his father said, looking him in the eye. "That's the secret. I learned from my mistakes and kept pushing forward."

With a gentle tap on Raichi's cheek, his father smiled. "You'll get there, Raichi. Just keep going."

.

.

.

Raichi's thoughts snapped back to the present as his father's words echoed in his mind. He gripped the ground, tearing out tufts of grass and dirt as he rose from his prone position. His resolve hardened. 'Never quit. Keep going,' he repeated the mantra over and over.

'If wanting a better life and legacy than my father is a sin, then throw me into hell!' Raichi's eyes burned with newfound determination.