The morning after the second win felt strangely quiet. The academy dorm's usual buzz—the hurried footsteps, the blaring music from some player's room—was subdued, as if everyone was conserving energy for what came next. The semifinal loomed, a clash that would decide who even got the chance to fight for the trophy.
Noah sat at the breakfast table, staring at his oatmeal. His legs were sore, his eyes heavy, but there was a quiet contentment beneath the fatigue. He had done something yesterday he never thought he would: he had faced pressure head-on and bent it to his will.
Riku dropped his tray across from him without a word, just a faint nod as he dug into his food. For a while, there was only the sound of clinking cutlery and quiet chatter from the rest of the team. Then, Riku said, almost casually, "That pass yesterday… the one to Leo."
Noah blinked, unsure how to respond. "Yeah?"
Riku shrugged, not looking up. "It was good. Real good."
It was the first time Riku had given him any kind of outright praise, and it felt heavier than expected. Noah smiled faintly. "Thanks. Means something coming from you."
For a moment, Riku paused mid-bite, then smirked slightly. "Don't get used to it. I'm still better."
Noah laughed. "Sure."
Training later that day was lighter, focused more on recovery and team cohesion. Harper deliberately avoided heavy tactical drills, instead encouraging small-sided games designed to build chemistry. Noah found himself paired with Riku more often than not, and for the first time, there was no edge to their play. Their passes clicked seamlessly, one reading the other without a word spoken.
At one point, Leo jogged past them, shaking his head. "You two are ridiculous now. What happened to all the glaring?"
Riku gave him a deadpan look. "I got tired of carrying him."
Noah elbowed him lightly, grinning. "He's lying. I just finally figured out how to keep up."
Even Harper noticed, his sharp eyes narrowing with a hint of approval. "This is what we need for the semifinal. Chemistry. Understanding. Trust. You boys keep this up, and we'll run that midfield."
After training, most of the team drifted to the lounge. Someone had put on highlights from other tournament matches, analyzing possible opponents. Noah sat on the floor against the couch, sipping an energy drink, while Riku leaned against the armrest, scrolling on his phone.
"You ever think about why you play?" Noah asked suddenly, eyes still on the screen.
Riku didn't answer right away, and Noah glanced up to find him staring off slightly, jaw tight. "Pressure," he said finally. "Japan's got a list of players my age they watch. If you're not on it by eighteen, you're done. My dad calls every week to ask how I'm performing. Says he won't pay for me to stay in England if I'm not worth the money."
Noah frowned. "That's… heavy."
Yeah," Riku said, voice flat. "So I don't play for fun. I play because I have to be better than everyone else." He finally looked at Noah, eyes sharp but not hostile. "You play for fun, don't you?"
Noah hesitated. "I used to. Then I started playing safe because I was scared of failing. Now? I think I play to prove I'm not that guy anymore."
Riku studied him for a long moment, then nodded once. "Good answer."
It was small, but in that moment something shifted. The rivalry hadn't disappeared—it had just evolved.
Later that night, as Noah was heading back to his room, he heard Riku's voice behind him. "Hey."
Noah turned, expecting a jab or a sarcastic remark, but Riku simply said, "Semifinal's gonna be tough. Don't go safe on me."
Noah smiled. "I won't if you won't."
Riku smirked faintly, a rare look of genuine amusement. "Deal."
For the first time since Noah joined the academy, they felt less like rivals clawing at each other and more like something better—teammates sharpening one another, each determined to push the other higher.
That night, Noah lay in bed, staring at the ceiling again, but it felt different than the night before. His heart wasn't pounding from adrenaline or nerves; it was steady, grounded. The semifinal would be another test, maybe the hardest yet, but he had something he didn't have before: trust in himself, and maybe, just maybe, trust in Riku too.