Midfield Maestro

The next morning, Takumi woke up with the sun still low in the sky. The soft orange hue of the dawn filtered through the small window of his dorm room, casting a calm glow on the walls. For a moment, he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the events of yesterday replaying in his mind.

The training session had been overwhelming. His lack of control in the midfield had been painfully obvious. He had failed to command the game, unable to dictate the tempo as Coach Sora had expected. Even though his vision was sharper than most, his decision-making had been slow, and he had allowed the pressure of being at Skyline FC to paralyze him.

Takumi closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. He had to forget about yesterday's failure. If he kept dwelling on it, he'd never improve. Today was a new day. A new opportunity to prove himself.

With determination, he swung his legs out of bed, his feet landing softly on the floor. His body felt stiff, sore from the relentless drills the day before, but that was no excuse. He wasn't here to be coddled; he was here to become better. And becoming better meant embracing every moment—no matter how painful.

He stood up and stretched, trying to shake off the exhaustion. A glance at the clock on his desk told him it was nearly time for the morning session.

As Takumi walked toward the door, he heard a knock. He opened it to find Shinji standing there, his ever-present grin plastered on his face.

"Hey, Usui! Ready for round two?" Shinji said, his tone light but full of energy.

Takumi couldn't help but smile in return. Shinji's confidence was infectious, and despite Takumi's doubts, the striker always seemed to believe in him.

"Yeah, I guess so," Takumi replied, attempting to match Shinji's enthusiasm, even though he still felt the weight of his own uncertainty.

"Come on, let's hit the field early," Shinji said, stepping back to let Takumi out of the room. "You need all the training you can get, and so do I. We've got to make it through this. Besides, I heard there's going to be a special drill today."

Takumi raised an eyebrow. "Special drill?"

Shinji shrugged, his grin widening. "I'm sure it'll be fun. Or maybe not, but it'll make us better, that's for sure. Let's go!"

The training ground was already buzzing with activity when they arrived. A few players were running laps, their breaths coming in quick bursts as they pushed their bodies to the limit. Others were practicing ball control, juggling or dribbling in tight spaces, trying to improve their technique.

Takumi, still feeling the stiffness in his legs, couldn't help but admire their intensity. This is the level I need to be at, he thought. The players here weren't just skilled—they were relentless.

Shinji, ever the bundle of energy, waved toward a group of strikers who were warming up. "Hey, Usui! I'll see you later," he called over his shoulder, rushing off to join them.

Takumi nodded and made his way toward the center of the pitch, where Coach Sora was already standing with a few of the other midfielders. The coach's sharp eyes were scanning the field, as if analyzing every inch of it.

"Gather around!" Coach Sora's voice boomed across the field. The players immediately stopped what they were doing and jogged toward him.

Takumi joined the others, his stomach knotting in anticipation. He could feel the pressure building once again. Today was another chance to prove himself, and he wasn't about to squander it.

Coach Sora stood tall, his arms crossed as he surveyed his team. He looked every bit the commanding figure that Takumi had heard about. His piercing gaze made even the most experienced players uncomfortable.

"Today," Coach Sora began, his voice cold and direct, "we'll be working on ball retention, positioning, and decision-making under pressure. The midfield is the heart of the game. If you can't control the ball, you can't control the game."

Takumi swallowed, his heart beating a little faster. The coach was right—he had struggled to control the midfield yesterday. He had hesitated, waiting for the perfect moment to make his move. But in a match like this, hesitation was a luxury he couldn't afford.

"Let's start with a small-sided game," Coach Sora continued. "Four-on-four. The emphasis is on keeping possession, moving the ball quickly, and using triangles to maintain fluidity. If you lose possession, you'll immediately drop to defense and try to win it back."

"Triangular passing?" Takumi whispered under his breath, his mind whirring. He'd heard of the concept before but had never fully understood how it worked in practice. The idea was simple—create passing lanes in the form of a triangle, moving the ball quickly between players. But in the heat of the moment, when the pressure was on, it could be a lot harder to execute.

"Focus," Coach Sora barked, catching Takumi's distracted expression. "This is not just about how well you pass the ball. It's about reading the game. Where are the gaps? Where are the spaces? You need to think two steps ahead."

Takumi nodded, trying to block out the nerves that had begun to creep up again. He wasn't just being tested on his passing today. He was being tested on his vision.

Coach Sora blew the whistle, and the players quickly separated into two teams. Takumi found himself in the same team as Kai Kuroda, the cocky midfielder he had already pegged as one of his main rivals. Kai was fast, skilled, and brimming with confidence—perhaps a little too much.

Takumi could feel Kai's eyes on him as they lined up. The younger midfielder didn't speak, but Takumi could tell that Kai was sizing him up, probably already thinking that Takumi wasn't up to his level.

"Ready to lose, Usui?" Kai said with a sly grin as they lined up in their positions.

Takumi held his ground, refusing to be intimidated. "We'll see."

The game started with a flurry of movement. Takumi quickly found himself at the center of the action, the ball passed to him from the left winger. He controlled it smoothly, his first touch solid, but the pressure was already on. Two defenders immediately closed in on him, anticipating his next move.

Takumi's mind raced. His natural instinct was to retreat, to pass the ball to a teammate who had more space. But Coach Sora's words echoed in his mind: Where are the gaps? Where are the spaces?

He glanced to his right, where Shinji Tanaka was making a run toward the goal. Takumi weighed the options in a split second. He could pass to Shinji, but the angle was tight, and the defenders were closing in quickly. The pass had to be perfect, or they'd lose possession.

Takumi could feel the pressure mounting, but he forced himself to calm down. Think, think, he told himself. His eyes scanned the field, looking for the triangle—the perfect triangle. There it was.

Instead of passing to Shinji, Takumi flicked the ball sideways to Kai, who had drifted into the space between the two defenders. Kai took the ball in stride, using the extra space to move forward, forcing the defenders to shift their attention away from the goal. The defenders moved toward him, opening up a new passing lane for Takumi.

Without hesitation, Takumi moved into the open space and called for the ball. Kai glanced at him and, seeing the opening, sent a quick, sharp pass directly to Takumi's feet.

The ball came at him fast, but Takumi was ready. His touch was soft, just enough to cushion the ball as he faced the defenders. He had only a moment to make a decision.

Shinji's at the far post, he thought, noticing the striker's positioning as he sprinted toward the goal. But there's an opening near the top of the box.

With a quick glance, Takumi sent the ball into space, just ahead of Shinji's path. Shinji, always on the move, raced to meet the ball, his instincts honed over years of training. The defenders were a second too late.

Shinji slid into position, connecting with the ball just as it reached him, sending it crashing into the net.

Goal. Takumi's first assist in Skyline FC.

The whistle blew, and the game halted. Shinji's teammates slapped him on the back, and Takumi couldn't help but smile, his heart pounding in his chest. He had done it. He had read the game, made the right decision, and executed the triangle pass in real-time.

Coach Sora's face remained impassive, but there was a slight glint in his eyes. He nodded slightly, acknowledging the good play. "Not bad, Usui," he said. "But this is just the beginning."

The next few minutes were a blur of intense passing, positioning, and fast decisions. Takumi found his rhythm, moving the ball quickly between teammates, setting up triangles and constantly scanning for the next open space. Kai, despite his cocky attitude, was impressed by Takumi's vision and movement.

As the session came to an end, Coach Sora gathered the players in the center of the field.

"Alright," he said, his voice cold but steady. "You've shown progress today. But remember, this is just the foundation. You're not footballers until you can do this under pressure in a real game."

Takumi felt a sense of accomplishment, but the truth was clear—this was just one small step. If he wanted to make it in Skyline FC, he had to keep pushing. There was still so much to learn.

"Good work, Usui," Shinji said, clapping him on the back as they walked off the field. "You were solid out there."

Takumi nodded, but inside, he knew he had a long way to go. This wasn't the end of the road. It was just the start of something much bigger.

As Takumi headed back to the dorms, he felt a small sense of pride. But it was fleeting. He couldn't rest now. There was always another challenge, another hurdle to overcome.

Tomorrow was another day. And he was ready.