At the sidelines, the most nervous spectator was naturally Kojima Kana. She'd been standing since kickoff, too tense to even sit down.
Beside her, Kirisu Mafuyu stood quietly. When she saw the scoreboard still frozen at 0–0, her gaze drifted toward the commentator's booth. "I think I understand why they invited professional commentators now."
"Huh?" Kana turned, distracted, her eyes still fixed on the field.
Mafuyu explained calmly, "Didn't they mention earlier? Toritsu High invited our team because the ace who beat them last year had a very similar play style to Shirase-kun."
"Right, I heard that too!" Kana nodded quickly, her flustered tone making her sound like a student answering a teacher's question.
"Also," Mafuyu continued, "I asked around. Toritsu originally wanted to invite the team that defeated them last year, but that team refused—said they didn't want to reveal their strength. I suspect Toritsu didn't take that well, so they invited us instead, even bringing in professional commentators to hype up this 'friendly' match."
"I see now…" Kana murmured.
So this was basically school rivalry—each side trying to one-up the other.
And with the live commentary and all, Toritsu clearly wasn't trying to keep things quiet. Once the news spread, it would only make the other school look timid for turning them down.
Mafuyu lowered her voice. "I wouldn't be surprised if Toritsu publicized the results afterward. Once it hits social media, you know those anonymous drama-chasers online will start stirring things up."
Kana bit her lip as she watched Shirase sprinting across the pitch. "Shirase-kun and the others have to win. Otherwise, the trolls online will go wild."
Both women had been in the working world long enough to know how easily things could spiral. On certain forums, anonymity only made people bolder—and crueler.
One careless loss could be enough to start an online firestorm.
"Thirty-five minutes into the match, and the first half is nearly over," the commentator's voice rang out. "The score remains tied at 0–0! A surprising result—clearly, we've all underestimated the Aoyama High players, especially their Number 10, Shirase Haruto. Ever since he started marking Hasebe, the latter has been almost completely locked down, unable to display his full skill set. The pressure's now on Toritsu High—can they adjust in time?"
After finishing his remarks, the commentator muted his mic and glanced back at a group of nearby school officials. "Do you happen to have any background on that Number 10, Shirase-kun? And Number 9, Hayama Hayato—I'd like their stats if possible."
The officials exchanged uncertain looks before shaking their heads. "Sorry, no. We're only in charge of organizing the match; we don't have professional data like that."
The commentator nodded, a bit regretful. "That's a shame. Those two boys are remarkable—especially Shirase."
That immediately caught the officials' attention. "He's really that good?"
"Good isn't the word," the commentator said seriously. "He already moves like a professional. Physically, he's well beyond high school level. In fact, based on my years of experience, I'd say his athleticism is on par with top-tier youth academy players. If he joined a lower-tier professional team right now, he'd still make an impact."
The officials exchanged pleased looks—clearly, their idea of recruiting him was the right move.
Turning his mic back on, the commentator glanced sideways at his co-host—the same girl who'd been starry-eyed earlier. He'd assumed she was just another fangirl, but she'd surprised him with solid, insightful comments.
A true soccer fan, then—just one who happened to be smitten.
Refocusing, he began narrating again. "Only a few minutes left in the first half. Toritsu High back on the attack—ah, their ace Hasebe's accelerating now! Looks like he's finally had enough of being shut down all half and wants to fight back… Wait, what's this?"
His tone suddenly spiked in pitch. Hasebe had just linked up with a teammate to shake off Shirase, kicking the ball a meter ahead to start his run—
But in that exact instant, a figure darted in diagonally from behind!
The burst of speed was breathtaking, like a flash of lightning. The player intercepted the ball cleanly under Hasebe's stunned gaze.
Again!
It was Shirase.
Hasebe's face twisted in disbelief. How many times had this happened already? Every time he tried to build an attack, Shirase somehow appeared in the perfect position, as if reading his mind.
Flawless defense. Not one mistake.
Is this guy even human?!
As Shirase turned and charged forward for the counterattack, Hasebe gritted his teeth and sprinted after him.
After his brief shock, the commentator's voice surged with excitement. "Number 10 again! Another stunning interception! That acceleration just now—that's pure pro-level power…"
"Beautiful! Shirase dribbles past one defender—completely outplayed! The others have noticed and are closing in, but at this speed, I doubt they'll catch up—"
The commentator's words proved right.
Shirase sliced past two defenders in succession, the field opening wide before him.
Players from both teams were converging toward the center, making it look as if everyone was rushing alongside him, shielding him as he ran.
Golden sunlight spilled across his face, glinting off his hair with every stride.
But he wasn't running toward the light.
He was running straight for the goal.
Just as the defenders moved to block him, Shirase suddenly passed to a teammate on the right—a boy from the soccer club nicknamed Little Kuroko.
"Pass it back!" Shirase called the moment the defenders shifted.
Without hesitation, his teammate returned the ball.
Then, as the defenders' focus swung back to Shirase, he sent another quick pass in the opposite direction.
The rapid exchange naturally slowed everyone's movement for a split second.
While all eyes were locked on Shirase and his passing partner, the defenders missed one crucial detail—
Hayama Hayato had slipped right behind Shirase.
The defenders' formation was in shambles. Shirase suddenly burst forward again, breezing past them before they could react.
He was now right at the edge of the box.
The commentator's voice climbed with passion. "Another brilliant dribble! Is Shirase showing off his technique now? His composure is unreal for a high schooler. Compared to the genius Hasebe, who's been completely shut down, Shirase looks every bit like a prodigy already on the radar of pro scouts—ah, he's in perfect position to shoot—wait, what?! He passes instead! A heel pass—risky even for pros—"
"But he pulled it off! Behind him, Number 9, Hayama Hayato, receives perfectly!"
Just when everyone expected a shot, Shirase flicked the ball diagonally behind him with a graceful heel touch—like he had eyes in the back of his head.
Hayama, exhausted and sprinting full tilt, didn't dare slow down. A defender was practically breathing down his neck.
The instant the ball reached him, he spotted the open lane on the right side of the goal—an opening Shirase had created.
He shoved the defender off, barely keeping his balance. No time to adjust—if he hesitated, the chance would vanish.
He swung his right foot hard—and fell forward from the recoil just as the ball arced beautifully through the air, grazing the goalkeeper's fingertips before slamming into the back of the net.
Goal!
For a moment, the entire stadium went dead silent.
Then Nakano Yotsuba's loud cheer broke the stillness, followed by Hiratsuka Shizuka waving her beer wildly and the fangirls shouting for Shirase and Hayama.
Their voices echoed through the huge stadium—because on the Toritsu side, no one made a sound.
They couldn't believe what they'd just seen.
They were losing.
And the first half wasn't even over yet.