Captain Tsubasa: The Striker

The sky was overcast, casting a pale gray light over the riverbank. Under the bridge, Kaito stood in his usual spot, the air filled with the rhythmic thud of his shots against the cracked wall. Each strike of the ball was deliberate, sharp, and powerful, the sound cutting through the stillness like an unspoken challenge.

Kaito's focus was absolute, his crimson eyes locked on the target. This was his routine, his way of silencing the world around him. But today, that silence was broken.

"Yo, what's this?" a mocking voice rang out, shattering the calm.

Kaito stopped mid-motion, his head turning toward the sound. Three older boys strolled out from the shadows of the bridge, their postures casual but their eyes predatory. The tallest, a muscular teen with a shaved head, smirked as he sized Kaito up.

"You out here playing all by yourself?" the leader sneered. "That's kinda sad, don't you think?"

Kaito didn't answer. He turned back to the wall, bouncing the ball on his foot, but his shoulders were tense.

"Hey, don't ignore us," one of the others said, his tone laced with mockery. "We're just trying to have some fun."

The tallest boy stepped closer, his smirk widening. "What's the deal with you anyway? Practicing all serious like that? You think you're gonna go pro or something?"

Kaito finally spoke, his voice low and cold. "Leave me alone."

The leader chuckled. "Oh, tough guy, huh? Let's see how tough you are."

Before Kaito could react, the boy lunged forward and snatched the ball off his foot.

"Give it back," Kaito demanded, his voice steady but sharp.

The boy laughed, tossing the ball to one of his friends. "Why? You think you're better than us or something?"

They began passing the ball between them, keeping it just out of Kaito's reach. He moved quickly, trying to intercept, but they shoved him back each time.

"Stop it," Kaito growled, his patience wearing thin.

The leader caught the ball again, holding it up as if inspecting it. "This thing's barely holding together. What's the point of training with junk like this?"

Kaito lunged forward, but one of the others grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"Relax," the leader said with a smirk. "We'll take care of it for you."

With a cruel grin, he slammed the ball onto the ground, stomping on it repeatedly until the seams burst. The ball collapsed under his foot, its tattered remains scattered across the concrete.

Kaito froze, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes burned with fury, but he forced himself to stay still, his breathing heavy.

The leader stepped closer, leaning in with a smug expression. "What's the matter? Gonna cry?"

Kaito's restraint snapped. His fist flew out, connecting with the boy's jaw with a sickening crack. The leader staggered back, swearing, and the other two lunged at Kaito in retaliation.

Nearby, Sanae Nakazawa was walking briskly along the riverside path, accompanied by a new face.

Yuko, Nankatsu's new assistant manager, walked beside her. Her snow-white hair fell neatly around her shoulders, and her striking pink eyes scanned the area with quiet curiosity. Unlike Sanae's bright energy, Yuko carried herself with calm composure, her steps measured and deliberate.

"So, this is where he usually trains?" Yuko asked, her voice soft but thoughtful.

"Yeah," Sanae replied. "He's... different. Tsubasa and the guys were really impressed with his shots, but he's not exactly friendly."

Yuko nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Sounds like someone with a lot on his mind."

As they approached the bridge, Sanae suddenly grabbed Yuko's arm. "Wait… look!"

Under the bridge, they saw Kaito surrounded by the three boys. His lip was bleeding, and his movements were slowing as he fought to defend himself.

"They're beating him up!" Sanae exclaimed, her voice trembling with urgency.

Yuko's pink eyes narrowed. "This isn't good. We need help."

Sanae didn't hesitate. "Let's get the team!"

---

At the Nankatsu training field, Tsubasa was running passing drills with Ishizaki, Ryūzaki, and the rest of the team. Roberto Hongo watched from the sidelines, his sharp eyes observing every detail of the players' movements.

"Tsubasa!" Sanae's voice cut through the air as she and Yuko sprinted toward the field.

The players stopped, turning to see the girls running up, both out of breath. Tsubasa jogged over, concern etched on his face.

"Sanae, what's wrong?" he asked.

"It's him!" Sanae gasped. "The guy under the bridge—he's in trouble! Three guys attacked him, and they destroyed his ball!"

Yuko stepped forward, her voice steady but urgent. "He's hurt, and he's outnumbered. We need to get there fast."

Tsubasa's eyes hardened. "Let's go."

Roberto stood, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a sense of urgency. "I'll come too. Let's move."

When the team arrived at the bridge, they found Kaito leaning against the wall, blood dripping from a cut on his brow. The three boys were gone, but Kaito's bruises and the torn remains of his ball told the story clearly.

"Kaito!" Tsubasa called, running over.

Kaito looked up, his crimson eyes blazing with a mix of anger and exhaustion. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to help," Tsubasa said firmly, crouching down beside him.

"I didn't ask for help," Kaito muttered, trying to push himself up. He winced, clutching his side.

Roberto stepped forward, his voice calm but authoritative. "No one said you had to ask. Let us help you."

Kaito glared at him but didn't argue. He was too tired to fight back, and a part of him, buried deep, didn't want to.

Sanae and Yuko exchanged a glance as the team helped Kaito to his feet.

"He's got a lot of pride," Yuko said quietly.

Sanae nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah. But I think they'll get through to him. Eventually."

As they guided Kaito away from the bridge, Tsubasa glanced back at the broken ball lying on the ground. He made a silent promise to himself.

"We'll fix this," Tsubasa murmured. "You're not alone anymore, Kaito."

And for the first time, Kaito didn't push them away.