CHAPTER 52: "Summer Begins"
The peace tastes like popsicle melting on his tongue.
Takeshi sits on the curb outside the convenience store, legs stretched toward the street, spring air cooling his face. Beside him, Sato hums tunelessly, swinging his own popsicle like a conductor's baton. They haven't trained in three days. Three days without the suffocating urgency that defined every moment since day one. Three days of just existing.
"Still can't believe we did it," Sato says for the hundredth time this week.
"Yeah. 9th place. We're actually safe."
The words feel impossible even now. A week ago, Daichi's foot found the net one final time, and Takeshi's world compressed into a single, unbearable truth: he was second. The cold mathematics of it, five goals to Takeshi's four, had felt like verdict handed down from the gods. But then the whistle came. Then the final match: 1 to 1 against 5th place. Then survival.
The system had gone quiet after declaring Arc 2 complete, and in that silence, something unexpected happened. Takeshi realized he could breathe.
At school, walking through hallways yesterday, classmates congratulated him without the hungry intensity from before. "You guys are heroes," Yuki had said during cleaning period, and Takeshi had felt embarrassed not by the attention, but by how small it seemed. They'd survived. That was the accomplishment. The championship could have gone either way. Survival, real survival against actual odds, was the story worth telling.
Lunchtime today, Akari had asked him, "You look different. Lighter."
"Feel different. Like I can finally breathe."
She'd smiled that warm, knowing smile that made his chest do stupid things, and squeezed his hand under the table. For once, he didn't feel nervous about public affection. They were just two fourteen year olds eating bentos, existing together. The peace of it almost undid him.
"You getting sentimental?" Sato nudges him. "Popsicle's dripping on your hand, dummy."
Takeshi licks the melting edge, and Sato laughs like he's the funniest person alive. This too. Stupid moments with his best friend. This is what he'd been missing during the three year cave. Not football. Football could wait. Just this. Laughter. Ordinary Tuesdays.
Sato finishes his popsicle and stands, stretching. "Come on. We should head home. Your mom's probably making dinner."
Walking back through the quiet streets of Tokyo, past small shops closing for the evening, the spring sun painting everything gold, Takeshi understands why Elsa texted him during his darkest moment: Find the eight year old who laughed.
This is it. This is why he plays.
Wednesday feels different from Monday.
The final exam sits in front of him, Math problems filling the page. Adult mind meets teenage focus, and Takeshi moves through derivatives and vectors with methodical precision. Beside him, Sato gnaws his pencil eraser in panic.
After collecting papers, Sato groans. "I'm going to fail. My parents are going to kill me."
"You got a 73," Takeshi whispers as they leave the exam hall. "That's passing."
"How do you know?"
"Because I can do math, and I saw your paper. You got the last three problems."
Sato's face does something complicated, gratitude mixed with embarrassment at needing help. This is the calculus of friendship: sometimes you save each other on exams, sometimes on the field, sometimes just by showing up at 5:30 AM to run together.
Friday afternoon, as they're cleaning their classroom for summer break, sweeping, wiping desks, folding chairs, Yuki appears in the doorway with that characteristic energy she carries everywhere.
"You guys are actually heroes, you know that?" she announces without preamble. "Tokyo FC from last to safe. That's movie stuff."
Takeshi feels heat climb his neck. "Team effort."
"Yeah, but you're why we watched. You know that, right? Half our class came to the final match because of you." She shrugs like it's obvious. "Just saying. You made something people cared about."
She leaves before he can respond, and Sato elbows him. "She's right. You're famous now."
"Stop."
"I'm serious! You should embrace it. Become an influencer or something."
Takeshi throws a rag at him, and Sato laughs, dodging. Normal. Everything is normal now. No cameras lurking. No Real Madrid scouts. Just teenagers making stupid jokes while cleaning desks.
His report card comes Friday evening: surprisingly decent across the board. Mothers don't have realistic expectations anyway, so academics have slipped during the chaos of survival, but nothing catastrophic. His parents smile at the marks with quiet pride. His sister immediately steals his provisional national team training shirt.
"I'm wearing this to school next year!" she announces, vanishing into her room with the garment.
Saturday, Takeshi takes Akari to the aquarium.
He's nervous about it, which is ridiculous. They've held hands, kissed, had a thousand moments of intimacy. But there's something about a planned, proper date that feels more real somehow. An announcement to the universe that this isn't just chemistry or proximity. This is deliberate. This is choice.
She moves through the blue lit tunnels like she belongs there, talking about species and migration patterns with this passionate intensity that makes him forget to breathe. Her face illuminated by bioluminescent jellyfish. Her hand in his, confident now, no longer tentative. She's beautiful when she's teaching him things.
"This is nice," she says later, ice cream melting in summer heat by the river. "Just being normal."
"Yeah. Really nice."
She turns to face him fully, cross legged on the bench. "Promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Whatever comes next, whatever football throws at you..." She pauses, choosing words carefully. "Remember this feeling. Us. Normal. Don't lose that to the chase."
He kisses her then, awkward nose bump and all, because she's right. He will need this memory. He doesn't know what "next" means yet, but something in his bones tells him it's coming, something big, something that will demand everything from him again.
"I promise," he whispers.
The envelope arrives on a Monday morning.
Breakfast. Father reading newspaper. Sister doing homework at the table. Mother bringing mail from the entrance, shuffling through utility bills and notices, then stopping.
"Takeshi, this looks official."
Envelope with the Japan Football Association seal, crisp and official looking. Everyone stops. Sato had called yesterday saying his arrived. Still, opening it feels like holding your breath.
The paper inside is formal, printed:
=================
JAPAN FOOTBALL ASSOCIATION
U16 NATIONAL TEAM SELECTION
Dear Yamamoto Takeshi,
You have been chosen for the Japan U16 National Team training camp.
Training Camp Dates: June 15 to July 10
Location: JFA National Training Center, Chiba
Tournament: FIFA U16 World Cup (July 15 to August 8)
Host Country: Netherlands
Report Date: June 15 at 08:00
Important: 30 players invited. 23 will be chosen for World Cup squad.
This is a great honor. Represent Japan with pride.
Coach Koji Saito
Japan U16 Head Coach
=================
Silence.
Then his sister screams. Actually screams, knocking her chair backward. "WORLD CUP?! YOU'RE GOING TO WORLD CUP?!"
His mother's eyes fill with tears. "My baby..."
His father stands, wrapping an arm around his shoulders with a grip that says proud, so proud, so incredibly proud.
"It's just preliminary," Takeshi manages. "Might not make the squad."
His mother shakes her head, crying now. "You'll make it. I know you will."
His phone explodes. Sato: "DUDE! WORLD CUP!"
"NETHERLANDS!"
They scream through the phone like animals, and when he hangs up, Takeshi realizes he's shaking. Only two from Tokyo FC. Him and Sato. From the team that couldn't win, to representing Japan at sixteen.
Three weeks until departure. Everything changes again.
The goodbye tastes like salt.
Tuesday afternoon, Tokyo FC gathers at the training ground. Coach Tanaka called an emergency meeting, voice neutral in a way that suggested weight. Takeshi and Sato arrive early, nervous in a new way. This isn't about survival or tactics. This is about leaving.
The team files in. Ryo, Kenji, Yuta, Hiro, the defenders and midfielders and goalkeepers who fought together. The faces of the brothers they built in desperation.
Coach Tanaka stands. "Some of you may have heard..."
He looks directly at Takeshi and Sato.
"Two of our own have been called to the national team."
Silence.
Then Ryo starts clapping. Just stands and applauds, and everyone else joins. The entire team on their feet, clapping and cheering like these two are leaving on victorious crusade rather than rotation to higher competition.
Takeshi's throat tightens.
Coach's voice carries: "This is incredible honor for Tokyo FC. From 13th place to producing national team players. Proof of what you all achieved together."
Ryo steps forward. "You're representing us now. Not just Japan. Us. Tokyo FC. The team that refused to die."
Kenji: "Bring back stories."
Yuta: "Make them remember Tokyo FC."
Hiro: "You guys are our heroes."
Weight of expectations, but also weight of love. Different things entirely.
Afterward, goodbyes happen in smaller moments. Ryo pulls Takeshi aside, hand on his shoulder.
"You changed everything, you know that?" His captain's eyes are serious. "You came back after three years and saved us. Not just the team. Me. My belief. Go show the world what Tokyo FC is made of."
Fist bump becomes hug. Brothers for life.
Kenji approaches next, voice quieter. "Thanks for believing in me. After Kashiwa. After Daichi. That made all the difference."
Yuta: "You taught me being scared is okay. Running anyway is what matters."
Each teammate. Each moment. Each memory of season that transformed them all from 13th place wreckage into something that mattered. That's what will stick, Takeshi realizes. Not the trophies or accolades. The brotherhood. The refusal to quit. The proof that when you're cornered, you fight not for glory but for each other.
Final circle. All of Tokyo FC, hands together in the middle of the pitch they've bled on.
Ryo: "Once more. For the brothers leaving. Who are we?"
"TOKYO FC!"
"What do we do?"
"WE FIGHT!"
Breaking apart, Takeshi and Sato walking away while the team waves. Looking back once. Memorizing their faces. The season compressed into this moment: gratitude, grief, goodbye.
Thank you, his heart says.
For saving me. For becoming family.
That night, Elsa calls.
10 PM Japan time equals 3 PM Norway time. Takeshi answers immediately, and her face fills his screen, already smiling like she knew this was coming.
"You got selected," she says.
"You too?"
"Obviously. I'm Norway's starting midfielder."
Both laughing, but underneath is something deeper. The thing they promised when they were eight years old under Amsterdam stars: meet again as professionals.
"Netherlands," Takeshi says. "Can you believe it?"
"Back where it started. Ajax camp. Eight years ago. We were babies."
"Now we're playing in World Cup there."
Pause. Weight of it settling between them.
Elsa: "I watched your survival matches online. All of them. Every single one."
His throat does something complicated.
"That 75th minute trivela in the final match..." Her voice thickens. "That was Ajax. That was us. From age eight."
"You taught me that curve," Takeshi says quietly.
"I know. I remember."
Different emotion lives in her eyes now than before, not the soft melancholy of unrequited love, but something cleaner. Pride. The pride of seeing someone you care about become exactly who they were meant to be. Elsa has made peace with what could never be, and somehow that makes her more beautiful.
"We're in the same tournament," Takeshi says.
"Might play against each other," Elsa agrees. "Group stage hasn't been drawn yet."
"Would that be weird?"
She considers. "No. It would be right. Full circle. Ajax partners becoming opponents."
"I won't go easy on you," Takeshi says.
"I wouldn't want you to."
Before hanging up, she says: "Takeshi?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm proud of you. Tokyo FC. The survival. Everything. You found your way back."
"Thanks. For not giving up on me. During the cave."
"Never."
Her face disappears from his screen, but her words stay: See you in Netherlands 💙
His phone immediately buzzes with a system notification:
=================
NEW QUEST UNLOCKED
U16 WORLD CUP ARC
Represent Japan in the World Cup
Face your past (Ajax memories)
Honor your present (Tokyo FC legacy)
Build your future (International stage)
Elsa is waiting for you
The world is watching
This is your stage
=================
The week passes in preparation.
School is officially over. Summer break blooms wide and open. Takeshi's mother helps him pack with the focus of someone preparing for war. "Bring warm clothes. Netherlands is cold even in summer."
His sister steals his national team training shirt, the provisional one, and declares her intent to wear it the first day of school next year. His father buys new cleats. "For World Cup," he says simply, and Takeshi understands: this is his family's way of saying we believe in you.
Two days before departure, Takeshi and Akari sit by their river at sunset.
"Three months," she says quietly. "Maybe more if you go far."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. This is your dream."
Comfortable silence. Hands finding each other's.
"I'll call. Every week."
"You better. And text."
"Every day."
She leans against his shoulder. "Go be great. Make me proud."
"Already proud of you," he says.
"I love you," she tells him.
"I love you too. Now go show them what Tokyo FC's demon can do."
That night, lying in bed with bags packed by his door, Takeshi stares at the ceiling. Tomorrow: train to Chiba. National team camp. Three weeks of trials. 23 selected from 30. Then Netherlands.
His phone glows in the darkness:
Sato: cant sleep lol
Akari: Sleep well. Love you ❤️
Elsa: 2 days until I'm back in Netherlands. See you soon 💙
Tokyo FC group chat: Good luck brothers!
Takeshi closes his eyes, thinking about the journey: 34 year old failure reborn as eight year old fighter. Last place climbing to national team. Alone becoming surrounded by love. Dead becoming alive.
Three months ago he was fighting relegation.
Now he's fighting for World Cup.
This is what second chances create.
This is what refusing to quit means.
Tomorrow: new chapter.
Tonight: gratitude.
Sleep finds him peaceful, ready.
The world stage awaits.
[END CHAPTER 52 BRIDGE COMPLETE]
[CHAPTER 53: Japan U16 Training Camp Begins]