Chapter 70 – Rainfall
The rain started before training even began.
Not heavy at first.
Just a light drizzle falling from the dark grey sky overhead, small droplets tapping against the pavement and soaking slowly into the field. Most normal people probably would've cancelled practice.
Southside wasn't normal.
"You're kidding," Yuma muttered as he stepped onto the soaked grass. "This field already sucks dry."
Sora nudged a ball with his foot, immediately slipping slightly.
"…Yeah, we're dying today."
Hiroto looked up toward the sky once before adjusting the hood of his jacket.
"We're already behind."
That was enough explanation.
No one argued after that.
The rain got worse quickly.
Within fifteen minutes, everyone was soaked.
Hair dripping.
Jerseys clinging to their skin.
Mud sticking to their shoes every time they planted their feet too hard.
The field turned heavier by the second.
Every sprint felt slower.
Every movement felt rougher.
"Again!" Hiroto shouted.
Nobody complained.
Not out loud, anyway.
The drill focused on transitions.
Fast recovery.
Immediate pressure after losing possession.
Normally it relied on speed and clean movement.
Today—
it was chaos.
Ren tried turning sharply.
His foot slid completely.
"SHIT—"
He crashed shoulder-first into Daichi.
Both of them hit the ground hard.
Yuma immediately started laughing.
"Bro got tackled by weather."
"Shut up," Ren snapped while standing.
Takumi tried sending a long pass across the field.
The soaked ball stopped halfway through the mud.
Everyone stared at it.
"…Fantastic," Takumi muttered.
Meanwhile, Pambara looked like he was fighting for survival.
Every sprint looked difficult.
Every stop looked dangerous.
At one point he slipped trying to trap a simple pass and fully spun before hitting the ground.
Hard.
Silence.
Then Sora burst out laughing.
"Oh my god."
Even Kaito smirked slightly.
Pambara slowly lifted a thumbs-up from the mud.
"…I'm okay."
"You absolutely are not," Yuma replied immediately.
But despite everything—
Pambara got back up.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The rain kept falling.
Harder now.
Heavy enough that shouting across the field became difficult.
Scrimmage started soon after.
Teams split quickly.
The ball moved slower across the soaked grass, forcing everyone closer together. Physical contact happened constantly now. Slipping. Shoving. Crashing into each other.
The game felt uglier.
More desperate.
Yusuke received near midfield and pushed forward immediately.
Kaito stepped up to support.
Takumi moved wide.
Pambara called for the ball.
Nobody passed.
Yuma charged through the middle recklessly.
"MOVE!"
Daichi stepped in to stop him.
Shoulder collision.
Both stayed up.
Barely.
The rain poured harder.
"Reset!" Hiroto shouted.
"Wider spacing!"
Nobody listened properly.
Everyone was too tired.
Too irritated.
Pambara finally intercepted a loose pass accidentally.
The ball bounced awkwardly toward him.
For once—
space opened.
"Forward!" Sora shouted.
Pambara looked up quickly.
Saw Yusuke moving.
Saw Takumi overlapping.
Saw Yuma screaming for the ball.
Then hesitated.
Just slightly.
Yuma exploded instantly.
"PASS THE DAMN BALL!"
Pambara panicked.
Passed too late.
Kaito intercepted immediately.
"Tch."
Yuma threw his arms up aggressively.
"He freezes every time!"
"I know!" Pambara shouted back before immediately shrinking slightly.
"…Sorry."
The game stopped for a second.
Because that was the first time he'd shouted.
Rain hammered against the field around them.
Everyone breathed heavily.
Yuma stared at him.
"…Then stop apologizing and do something."
That hit harder than expected.
Not because it was cruel.
Because it was true.
Pambara lowered his head slightly.
"…Right."
Play resumed.
Harder now.
More physical.
More frustrated.
Yusuke stole possession near midfield after a sloppy touch and accelerated instantly through the rain. Mud kicked up behind him as he sprinted forward, defenders sliding trying to catch him.
For a moment—
it felt alive again.
Then Aka's voice echoed inside his head.
You'll lose again like this.
Yusuke pushed harder.
Too hard.
His next touch slipped.
The soaked ball rolled away.
Turnover.
"DAMN IT!" Yusuke shouted.
The frustration finally cracked through the entire team.
"You're forcing everything!" Takumi yelled.
"Because nobody's moving!"
"Then trust us!"
"Trust WHO?!"
Silence hit immediately after that.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
Rain poured endlessly around them.
Nobody moved for a second.
Then Hiroto stepped forward.
His voice low.
Controlled.
"…That's the problem."
Everyone looked toward him.
"We're still playing like Riku's here."
Nobody answered.
Because again—
he was right.
Every movement still expected him.
Every gap still waited for him.
Every rotation still felt incomplete.
The realization sat over the field heavier than the rain itself.
Pambara looked around quietly.
At the tension.
The exhaustion.
The anger.
Then finally spoke softly.
"…Then maybe you guys should stop trying to replace him."
Silence.
Yuma frowned.
"…What?"
Pambara swallowed slightly.
"…You don't need another Riku."
A pause.
"…You just need to become different."
Nobody responded immediately.
Not because the words were amazing.
Not because they solved anything.
But because—
for the first time—
Pambara sounded confident.
The rain continued falling over the silent field.
And somewhere underneath the exhaustion and frustration—
something small finally started changing.
To Be Continued.