Hey everyone, I finally decided to get my lazy bum into action and write something instead of leeching off other people's work. Yes yes, it IS my first WK fic and it's...strange because I've never written in first person before.  Yeah, so this story is meant to be inspirational with minimum angst,  no gore, and lots of encouragement.  So I hope you guys like it... ^_^0

Pairings: Ken x Omi, bits of Yohji x Aya

Disclaimers: I don't own a thing.

Believing The Dream

Chapter one: Where we meet Ken

Never give up on your dreams.

That phrase has repeated itself more than enough in my life.  Parents, teachers, coaches, professors.  All the same old "If there is a will, there is a way".

Heck, even the cranky old computer teacher, never getting the fact that computers and me just weren't "one".  He knew I didn't like computers. He knew computers didn't like me. He probably even assigned me to the grouchiest computer in the room just to grind on my nerves.  Regardless, he would always chant in his deadpan monotone "You can do it, try it again." Geez, what an evil robot.

But there were nice people too, like my chemistry professor.  She knew I was clumsy and broke more beakers, vials, and lenses than all the other students combined but she was patient.  Her understanding about my passions for other things led me to respect her kind of people.  She was one of the many people who told me, "Never give up on your dreams" but she was the only one I felt that her words actually had an effect on me.

Anyhow...

They would all be really disappointed if they saw me now.

Don't get me wrong!

I had a will.

I had a way.

I had a dream.

But...I guess it just wasn't good enough.

Backing up a bit...

I've always loved soccer. It was just one of my "things" unlike computers.  I loved everything about it. The smell of the grass. The feel of the ball against my feet.  The way the team worked and moved as one.  I had an undying passion for it, never missing a game and always giving it my all.

My coach always said I was a natural. I had a knack for the game, good reflexes, a fair heart.  My team and I always hung out after games, joking around, having fun like young people should. I didn't care much for winning even though I was always proud when I did win.  It was the game that counted in my mind.  You win some, you lose some, that's the way things went.

I had friends, fans, people I could count on.  I was happy, truly, honestly, happy.  And it just got better.

Being the youngest member excepted into the J-League sent my morale soaring higher. 

I swear, there wasn't a happier person in the world.  The cheers, the adrenaline, the stadiums roaring with crowds! I felt like nothing could stop me from going on forever the way I was.  The public was at me heels, the team was supporting me from all sides, the coaches and officials praising me from above.  As far as my little naïve mind was concerned back then, I was invincible.  I had followed my dream and it had led me to greatness.

Too bad.

Because I guess there were some people out there who just did not like me.  Didn't like who I was, what I did, I don't specifically know who did it, or WHY, but the fact that I found myself kicked off the team for something I was framed for knocked into my pride swollen brain that life wasn't just friends and fans.

The reasons and details behind the whole thing never reached my mind though the coherent part of my brain screamed for answers.  However, the other ninety-nine percent of my grey matter was in a state of severe trauma and like it is in most cases, majority ruled and the rest of me was pulled out of my dream world to face the harsh reality.

It was over.

The friends, the fans, the TEAM all left me. I was devastated. What I did manage to learn within the confines of my depression bubble was that somebody had drugged me or something and the public thought it was me who drugged me (as much as I protested). This, of course, resulted in me bidding my career a sorry bye-bye.

Gone were the days of Hidaka Ken: Ultimate, Unstoppable Goalie... now replaced with Hidaka Ken: Druggie. Loser.

Life just wasn't fair.

The public was attacking me too, making me feel even more worthless.  The "how could you"'s and "why did you do it"s and "I believed in you, and you let me down"s all got jumbled together, expanding on my bubble until I was dead to the world.

So, for months after that, I drifted around pointlessly.  Let's face it, my whole life, my whole FUTURE, had just been flushed down the toilet.  There was nothing left to live for.  So there I was, Hidaka Ken: Zombie for about half a year until out of the blue one day, I got a call from my high school buddy, playboy extraordinaire, Yohji Kudou.  Guess a guy can't lose ALL his friends.

Me? I was ECSTATIC that somebody out there still regarded me in respectful and friendly terms. I could almost feel my little bubble thinning a little. But not enough.

Turns out Yohji had gotten a job in a little town somewhere and had heard about my little "unemployment", which was a nice way to put it,  and was inviting me to his place for a while. 

Having nothing else to do, I excepted, very gladly at that, and proceeded to prepare for the trip.  A little smidgeon of the old Ken wormed its way into me and I lightened up. Just the slightest bit. Who knows, I though to my self constantly, maybe I could start over,  heck , I've only lived a fifth of a century.  There were so many more things out there that I could do. I grew accustomed to this train of thought and ignored as best as I could, the desire to play soccer again. I had to admit it, it was pretty damn hard. I had lived for the sport, I still did.  It had been my dream and it still was.

The rude coherent part of my brain attacked me again reminding me that it was over. I really despise that part of my mind.  What's worse is that it's always right, ready to strike me down with the brutal truth anytime.

But I didn't worry about it that much. Maybe spending time in a quiet town and an old friend could build the foundations for something new...or so I hoped.  Ideas started zooming through my head. What else could I do for a living? What did I like? Soccer...yeah soccer, I like soccer. I wanted to play soccer. But...oh yeah, that part of my life has been made forbidden to my access.  The bubble started to build up again as I stared out the window of Flight 679.  Was there really anything I could do to make up for the loss? What I needed was inspiration, big time. 

My eyelids began to droop. Yeah. Typical me, sleeping on it. But sleep always makes things better, I reasoned with myself. So I decided to do what I did best, besides soccer that is, I decided to snooze a little.  In my mind, the words of old mentors repeated themselves over and over again until the meaning was lost altogether.

Never give up on your dreams.

If there is a will, there is a way.

I had a will.

I had a way.

I had a dream I didn't give up on.

So the reason WHY I was at the doorstep to the home of Yohji Kudou instead of on a soccer field surrounded by bleachers roaring with fans was beyond me.

What a way things turned out to be...

TBC

~*~

So...*hides behind a rock and peeps out* did you...by any chance...somehow...by some stroke of pure luck...like it? I would really like to know...and I might be a lil' slow on the uploads as school is starting TOMORROW...grrr...

Yeah...sooo, pairings to come, don't ye fret now!