Not enough. It's not enough.

It was never enough to please him, to please Kira Seijirou.

When would he be satisfied and take eye to him? To his supposed pride and joy? His own flesh and blood?

What was lacking of the boy? He had supreme athletic ability, genius brains and dashing looks. Sure, he was wild and refused to go to school. Sure, he had rebelled and gotten a tattoo. Sure, he had a most brutal playing style. But what did those matter? It was the results that should matter right?

Except they didn't. All his 'hard work', all for waste. His training, his self studying, his self care. Kira Seijirou paid no mind.

When he was 7, he had already known how to receive balls coming from any direction. "Father, Father!" he would call. "Look what I can do!" he displayed his hard work and it resulted in the breaking of an antique vase. He'd expected a scolding but he didn't even receive a glance, only hearing words not even meant for him.

A young boy, red haired, his age. He'd kicked a soccer ball to their front yard and all of Kira Seijirou's attention went on him. 'It's okay,' the grey haired boy thought. 'Father will see me tomorrow.'

When he was 11, he had become the valedictorian for the sixth consecutive year. "Old man, I got valedictorian. Again," he would repeat. "I might as well stop going to school at this point." His report card had gotten caught in a stack of waste papers and was shredded. He'd expected a lecture for his carelessness and perhaps for not getting full marks in that one subject that hardly mattered, but the man had gone as quickly as he had come.

The same red haired boy, teal eyes shining, came by again, as he had every week for the past years. He was excitedly sharing how he had finally passed in English and Kira Seijirou was smiling, patting the boy's head and saying how he would have a bright future ahead of him if he'd continued to work hard. 'This is nothing,' the purple eyed boy thought. 'School was useless anyway.'

When he was 14, he had gotten his first tattoo. A blue lightning strike down his left eye. "The old bastard has definitely got to see this," he grumbled to himself. "He'll shit his pants." Gasps of horror from maids and butlers, a scolding from his sister, but his father was no where to be seen.

The fair-skinned boy, tall and proud, had become captain of the newly made Eisei Junior High soccer club. Kira Seijirou was there to officiate the club and of course, he was smiling. 'Enough is enough,' he seethed in his mind. 'Nothing matters anymore.'

Why was it so difficult? To compete against a boy who had lost many things, while he had everything?

'Take it out on them,' his inner devil cooed. 'Make him lose more than he already has.'

'He makes the old man smile,' he fought. 'I'm free to do whatever I want anyway.'

'Ah, but doesn't it seem beautiful? They can't operate the club without you,' the voice insisted. 'Torture them by not showing up, you can forfeit them at the Football Frontier.'

'Shut up,'

'But I'm right,'

'Clearly not in the right mind,'

'But you're better. They need you, you're their only hope. You're the deciding factor,'

'And what does that mean?'

'They should be worshipping you,'

'I am far superior in everything,'

'They'll see you for your worth,'

'I'm a god,'

'You'll make him go to his knees.'

'I will make the decision,'

'Yes, yes you will.'

Conquer, his evils told him. Take, his evils tempted him. Consume, his evils ordered him.

Conquer the field and let no one else disturb. Take the ball and make all the shots. Consume the weaknesses of everyone and have them bow. He had to make himself a god.

And then it happened. He'd chosen to help the red head, the annoying red head who had taken the one thing he could never have. Be the god, his evils screamed. Destroy them.

Yet he couldn't. He just couldn't. For Kira Seijirou was in the audience.

His purple eyes searched for his old man's, waiting to have a taste of his expression of regret, for ignoring him all this time, for never seeing his worth.

But it wasn't there. Sure he was looking at him, sure he was smiling. However, there was nothing in Kira Seijirou's eyes. Nothing of worth, nothing of feeling. It was all just a facade, to fool him so he would stop.

"Are you alright?" the red haired boy approached him, with the same stupid kindness in his voice. He saw his father's eyes change, kinder, softer, vulnerable. Oh why was he always like that around Kiyama Tatsuya?

"Oh shut up, Tatsuya," the grey haired boy growled, slapping the helping hand away. He wasn't going to show he was lacking here. Not here, not now. He was going to show Kira Seijirou that he was more than enough.

"Why would I need your help?"

He mustn't take help from anyone.

"After all, I'm the God Striker,"

He was going to be above everyone.

"Kira Hiroto."