Rise of the Champion Fuutarou
Por Fox McCloude
Disclaimer: The Quintessential Quintuplets and Captain Tsubasa belong to Haruba Negi and Yoichi Takahashi respectively. All rights reserved.
Japan National Stadium…
The stadium was packing. The wind was blowing strong that day, shaking his wild, blond-dyed hair all over. He'd worked really hard to get here. He'd been training really hard for the past three years, and at long last, after a lot of sweat, blood and tears, he'd taken his team all the way for the finals. And now, they were at the doors of the victory.
"Go, Uesugi, you can do this!"
"Score this goal and the championship's ours!"
"Victory's in the bag, let's go!"
The scoreboard had stayed in zeroes during the whole match. Both teams, Nankatsu of Shizuoka, and Sakimoto from Tokyo, had been attacking ruthlessly, but the defenders and goalkeepers had stopped the ball from entering either of the goals. It's been a constant come-and-go waltz, keeping the spectators on the edge of their seats, and victory was uncertain.
Until the 88th minute, when one of the Nankatsu defenders committed a foul trying to cut off the attack, which earned team Sakimoto a penalty kick. At this point of the match, one goal would be decisive, the perfect way to close that tournament, and his final match in that team.
'No pressure. The goal's practically secured. You just need to score and we'll win,' he told himself.
Fuutarou Uesugi, with the jersey number 14 in team Sakimoto, had been the chosen one to do the penalty kick. It was no surprise; he was considered by many the team's MVP. Offensive midfielder whose average during the tournament had been two goals and two assists per match, nothing to sneeze at for a middle school player. If they'd made it that far, it'd been in no small part thanks to him.
And there he was, in front of the ball as it lied on the eleven-step spot, with the opposing goal keeper being the only thing that separated him from the triumph. As soon as he heard the referee's whistle, he ran forward and prepared to shoot. This was it.
But then, the unthinkable happened: the goalkeeper anticipated, correctly jumping towards the upper left corner. The ball resounded in his fist, getting sent up in the air like a stray bullet. The shock of having missed left him paralyzed, to the point he didn't notice that one of the Nankatsu defenders, without missing his chance, had already run towards the ball, kicking it as hard as he could to clear away the danger.
"HURRY, TIME TO COUNTERATTACK!"
The scream snapped him out of his shock, and then he realized. Everyone in team Sakimoto, barring their own goalie, had come to see him score the penalty kick, so there wasn't anybody back there to defend. Obviously everyone else was stunned when he missed it, so they reacted too late.
The ball was already at the feet of Nankatsu's number 10. Daichi Ohzora, the tournament's ace striker, and swift as lighting, quickly escaped towards the opposing area with nobody to stop him. Having no support from his defenders, the Sakimoto goalie tried to get out and face the Shizuoka forward one-on-one, but the latter easily dodged him, and with no more obstacles in the area, kicked the ball hard to sink it into the nets.
As the Nankatsu players quickly dogpiled on their striker to celebrate, Fuutarou stopped in his tracks, falling to his knees and looking at the ball now at the bottom of his goal. He caught glimpses of his teammates' disappointment glares, all of them directed to him. They were angry, that was undeniable. He'd wasted a perfect chance, and his opponents had capitalized on it.
This would be a match he would remember for the rest of his life.
…
At the tournament's closing ceremony, everyone kept their composure. It wasn't easy for any of them, especially for Fuutarou, to see the Nankatsu guys receive the champion's flag and wave it triumphantly in the air, when they'd been so close to do that themselves.
Of course, everyone knew who they had to blame for it.
"You idiot! How could you miss that penalty kick?!"
"We had the championship in the bag, and you blew it!"
His teammates surrounded him, shoving him against the lockers in the dressing room. He'd done nothing to defend himself; not because he didn't want to, but because they didn't let him get a word in edgewise. And it was hard to talk when you'd gotten so many punches in the face and stomach.
Finally, when the pain receded enough, he could reply, smirking mockingly once he could sort out his ideas.
"How funny… you're blaming me for missing the penalty, but who were the ones who left our goal unprotected, huh?"
Those words only made the others even angrier. One of them grabbed him by the jersey and shoved him against the locker once more.
"Don't try to pin the blame on us! We all trusted you, and you let us down at the most crucial moment!"
"Yeah, some ace player you are!" another added.
"Oh yeah? Well, maybe this team isn't as good as you think, if you had to rely on your ace player all the time."
"How dare…?!"
"Who scored the two goals in the Shimizu match, to turn the tide when we were down?! Kawakami, who gave you the assist in the Nakahara match so you could score the decisive goal?! Who prevented us from going to overtime with Konishi, when everyone was too exhausted to continue?!"
As he proceeded to list his achievements along the tournament, making emphasis on how he carried the whole team on his shoulders, made everyone shut up for a moment. He pushed the player holding him away, and while they still glared at him, nobody uttered a single word.
"Face it. If we made it this far it was all thanks to me. You guys did little-to-nothing during the whole tournament. Had I not been around to keep it together, this team would have crumbled long ago."
"You think so?" The captain stepped up. "Well, we don't need an ace player who's unable to score at the most important time."
"Then be glad. This was our final match anyway, and you won't see me anymore after graduation."
Pushing his (now former) teammates aside to make his way through, Fuutarou grabbed his sports bag and headed for the exit. If that team didn't want him anymore, then he didn't want to be there with them. Some teammates they turned out to be, that bunch of mediocre players.
Obviously, the defeat had left him very upset. Anybody would feel that way, after working so hard, only to lose in the finals when they were about to win, just because of a single error. But more than that… there was the fact that he couldn't fulfill the promise to his mother earlier that morning.
…
"You'll see mom! We're going to win the championship! And I will dedicate my first goal to you!"
"That would make me really happy, honey. But all I care is that you have fun. Do your best, and have no regrets."
…
Normally, he would heed his mother's advice, that what mattered was to give his all, instead of winning. But being realistic, who liked to lose? It was his final shot at the middle school nationals, and right when it was within his grasp, a single miscalculation made him lose it.
If she saw him on TV, she probably would feel very disappointed. How could he show his face when he returned home?
Right then, his cellphone beeped. He was in such a bad mood that he almost pushed the cancel button, until he saw the caller ID belonging to his little sister. Maybe talking to her would help him feel better.
"Hello, Raiha?"
"Oniichan!" she replied with a squeaky voice, like she was crying. "You have to come quickly! Mom is… is…!"
"What's that matter?" All the anger dissipated in a heartbeat, making way for worry. "Something happened to Mom?!"
"Dad called me from the hospital!" Her voice seemed to be breaking with every word. "Mom had an accident and…!"
"Where are you now?"
"I'm still at school. Dad is still at the hospital so he can't come and pick me up…"
"Say no more. We'll go to the hospital together, just wait for me!"
And without waiting a response and ran off to pick up his sister. Their father probably couldn't contact him before because he was in the middle of the match, so he had to call her first.
On the bright side, the call did have the expected effect. He'd forgotten his anger over losing the match, as he now had something more important occupying his mind.
…
Fuutarou wasn't sure how he did it, but he managed to run nonstop all the way to the elementary school, to pick up his little sister. Even though after such an intense match he should have been completely exhausted, mentally and physically.
It was only when they reached the hospital's waiting room that his brain registered just how tired he was.
"Dad!" Raiha called out, running towards a tall, muscular man who was already there, and turned towards them. That was his father, Isanari Uesugi, the spitting image of his son with a similar, blond-dyed wild hair.
"Raiha, Fuutarou!" He kneeled down to hug his daughter when she jumped at him. Fuutarou walked behind her closely.
"How's Mom?" the girl asked. "Is she alright?"
"I'm sorry, I don't know yet," the man answered heavily. "I've been here for over two hours and I still have no news. By the way…" He turned towards his son. "How did the match go? I couldn't watch it at work, so…"
"Let's not talk about that now," the boy replied, folding his arms. "More important, what happened to Mom exactly?"
Isanari sighed, and proceeded to recount everything. He was just out of work when he got a phone call from the hospital. His wife had been hit by a reckless driver who passed through a red light, and fled the scene immediately. Hearing this made Fuutarou's blood boil, and fortunately several witnesses did what they could to help her and bring her here.
By the time Isanari found out everything, she was in the E.R., and still no news about her.
"Damn it… I hope the police catches the one responsible. How do they dare run away like that?" Fuutarou groaned. If he ever had that person in front, he'd surely give them a kick where it hurt the most.
"Let's try to calm down, son," Isanari said, letting go for a moment of Raiha to place his hands on Fuutarou's shoulders. "Let's talk about other things. Like your match: I'm sure you won, right?"
Fuutarou glanced at his father's eyes. That face full of hope and pride pierced through his chest like a frozen dagger. It was to be expected: he hadn't talked about anything else in the last few months, everything was about winning the nationals and become Japan's number one player. He was this close to make it… only for the victory to slip through his hands right at the end.
"No… we lost. All because I couldn't score that damn PK at the end," the boy said somberly, much to the shock of both his father and sister.
"Oh…" Isanari's expression turned sour, but he tried to smile. "Well, second place isn't that bad. Surely after your performance in the tournament many good teams will want to scout you."
"Yeah, Oniichan. There's always next year, right?"
The boy held the urge to roll his eyes, not wanting his dad and sister to feel worse than they probably were. Saying "There's always next year" was easy for first and second years, but he was a third year so this was his final chance. Sure, he could try and seek revenge in high school, but it'd be a different team, with different people.
Truth was, after today, he felt so lousy, he wasn't sure he should go seek revenge in high school. What if he ended up again with a bunch of losers, who dropped all the weight on him, for better or worse?
It wouldn't be worth playing that way.
"Mr. Uesugi?"
A deep, female voice spoke to them. A female, mature-looking doctor had approached them with a grave expression in her face, and Fuutarou saw his father approach her without missing a beat.
"Doctor, how's my wife? Will she be alright? Please, tell me anything!"
"Please, calm down. I really hate to be a bearer of bad news, but…"
"No… you're not telling me that…"
"We did everything in our power. Unfortunately, crashing headfirst against that post gave her a strong cerebral concussion. Had we been able to attend her earlier, maybe… I'm really, really sorry."
"No, no, noooooooooo!" Raiha fell to her knees and burst into tears. "MOOOOOMM!"
Fuutarou's body was left frozen for a moment. He'd turned into a swirl of emotions. Anger and hatred for the reckless driver who hit his mother. Sadness and powerlessness for not being able to do anything. Frustration and disappointment in himself, for not fulfilling the promise he made to her. And worst of all… regret over not telling her something else before they parted. He only talked about himself and his match, instead of telling her how much he loved her and how grateful he was for her support across all these years.
All that however was suppressed by his big brother instincts, and without thinking, he'd kneeled down to wrap his little sister in his arms, wanting to comfort her, to protect her, to ease the pain she was suffering. Same one he was having, and for some reason, while he wanted to cry, the tears didn't come out, and while he wanted to scream, his voice was lost.
'Cry, Raiha. Please cry for me too.'
His father embraced them both tightly. At the time, the Uesugi family couldn't do anything but stick together, trying to endure the pain of losing one of their own. Fuutarou's mother was gone, and they couldn't do anything to change that fact.
Several days later…
The weather during Mrs. Uesugi's funeral couldn't be more fitting for the mood. It seemed like the heavens were crying along with them that day,
Fuutarou had forced himself to hold the tears back, along with his father. Both of them had agreed to be strong for Raiha's sake, as during the past few years she'd been crying herself to sleep, to the point he asked for permission to skip school until after the funeral. At the moment, his father was holding her with one arm, while she cried on his shoulder, and his other hand held the umbrella that shielded the three of them from the raindrops, by staying together.
Kazane Uesugi was a woman very loved by everyone who knew her. She was a loving mother and wife, a hard-working lady, and probably the best cook in the neighborhood. Everyone loved the bread she sold in the small yet affluent business they'd opened a few years back. They weren't rich, but they earned enough to live well and happy.
Without her, the family business couldn't carry on.
That had been a double whammy for Fuutarou. Since he entered middle school… no, even before that, his mother had done everything she could to support him in his dream. Since he was little, he'd been a big fan of soccer, and growing up seeing the great Japanese players who'd made themselves big names in European clubs, he dreamed of becoming the next great professional.
His parents had worked nonstop to help him achieve that dream. When he turned ten, they gave him his first soccer ball and his first pair of cleats, same ones he'd worn in his first childhood team. He still recalled vividly the day he played his first match, or more specifically, when he returned home after it…
…
Fuutarou was exhausted, physically and mentally. Even though the coach and his teammates had assured him he'd done well, he still felt responsible for the result. After all, he was the one who couldn't mark that girl who scored the goal that gave victory to the opposing team.
The most curious about it was that the aforementioned girl was part of a set of quintuplet sisters. While they looked identical, only one of them seemed able to keep up the pace, and she was the one to get past his defense and score that goal in the final play. If it wasn't for those two details, he may have not even remembered her. But that didn't matter at the time.
"I'm home!" the boy declared, stepping into his house, being welcomed the smell of a delicious meal coming from the kitchen, and his little sister coming to hug him.
"Welcome, Oniichan!" she greeted him, and he quickly returned the gesture by patting her head. "How was the match? Did you win?"
"Ahh… no, we lost by a single goal," he said. "Is Mom making dinner already? I'm starving."
"Yeah, I'll go tell her. Mommy, Oniichan is back home!"
As Raiha ran off to the kitchen, Fuutarou headed to the living room's couch, grabbing the TV's remote. He skipped through channels until he stopped on one broadcasting a match of the Spanish LaLiga in the Camp Nou Stadium. Barcelona vs. Real Madrid, a match he was very much looking forward to see, due to a specific player.
"Now let's see, Tsubasa-san. What miracle will you bring now?"
A few years earlier, his parents had taken him to watch some matches of the World Youth Cup. He, like many of the kids his own age, didn't expect much from the Japanese players, as back then soccer in his country was barely starting to rise. But he was caught by surprise when the Japanese selection, against all odds, won match after match, even after they suffered plenty losses of important players due to injuries.
Among all of them, the one who stood out the must was the one bearing the #10 jersey, Tsubasa Ozora, who aside from leading his team to victory in the championship, was crowned as the tournament's MVP. Fuutarou was so impressed by that Number 10's plays, he researched in depth about that player's previous career. He found out he'd been national champion in elementary and middle school, and after graduating and competing in the Sub-16 World Cup, he started playing professionally in Brazil, in the Sao Paulo FC, for a few years, before moving on to the European stage. But he wasn't the only notable player; in general, most of the Japanese players were true rising stars whose names would resound in and out of their country. The most remarkable ones, aside from Tsubasa, were goalkeeper Genzo Wakabayashi, who played for the Hamburg SV in the Bundesliga, and striker Kojiro Hyuga, who'd been scouted by Juventus in Italia's Serie A.
Seeing those stars playing woke something up in Fuutarou, and he'd been following their careers very closely, wishing to be on the other side of the screen one day. He wanted to play like them, and in the future, to be a great pro, maybe even winning a World Cup for Japan.
But how was he supposed to do it, when he'd been unable to properly mark a girl?
"Welcome home, Fuutarou," his mother greeted him, coming in with a tray full of food and sitting next to him. "How was the match? Raiha just told me you lost."
'Telltale,' the boy thought, before trying to force a smile. He didn't want to look like a sore loser in front of his mom. "Well, it was almost till the end. I got careless, and that girl slipped past me before scoring. But I'll get my revenge next time."
"Haha, I'm sure of it," his mother said.
He, along with his sister and mother, sat down to watch the game. While he wasn't there in person, he screamed and jumped as if the players could hear him, cheering on for the Barcelona and Tsubasa. This was his debut in the first division team, partly because the star player, the Brazilian Rivaul, was out due to an injury, and they'd been going through a pretty bad streak, so today's victory was very important.
The match was a constant come and go, a merciless battle where victory was uncertain. Fuutarou was at the edge of his seat when the match was about to end, and despite all obstacles and how impossible it seemed, Tsubasa refused to give up, and dived in to get inside the goal with the ball if it was necessary, scoring the turnaround goal in the very last second.
To say the boy was in awe of the Japanese star was an understatement.
"Wow, that was amazing. You saw that, Mom? You saw it?"
"Yeah, it was spectacular. A bit reckless, though."
"God, I'd love to do something like that. To be the hero at the last second of the match. That must be awesome, right?"
"Yeah, instead of being the one who allowed the goal at the end," Raiha mocked, making Fuutarou glare at her.
"Raiha, sweetie, don't make fun of your brother," said Kazane. "I confess I'd be terrified to see my son pulling that kind of dangerous stunts… but I'd feel very proud nonetheless."
"You think I could be there one day, Mom?" Fuutarou asked. "To be a player like Tsubasa-san?"
"Son, if you believe in yourself, anything is possible," the woman assured. "And I'll be there to support you all the way until you make it."
Fuutarou smiled. From that point on, he promised himself to win every match, to become Japan's number one player, and one day in the future, to be one of the best in the world. So she could see him and feel proud of him.
…
And here he was now. All those dreams, all those hopes, it was like they died along with his mother. He wasn't even able to fulfill the promise he'd done that day, to be Japan's number one player. And when he was so close to do it… he just let it slip away, just like that.
"Fuutarou-kun?"
The female voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned around, seeing a girl with long black hair and black eyes, looking at him with compassion. Maybe one of the few people at school he could still count among his friends, after the final match's fiasco.
"Hey, Takebayashi. Coming to pay your respects?" he said, trying to sound as polite as possible.
"Of course. You have no idea how sad I am for what happened," she said, approaching to gaze at the tomb along with them. "We all loved your mom, after all."
"Thanks for coming. It means a lot for us."
The funeral continued as the priest continued to deliver the speech, and none of them spoke a single word. A couple hours later, once it was over, everyone retired little by little, but Fuutarou asked his father to take his sister home, as he wanted to stay just a little longer, watching the gravestone. Despite the protests, the boy promised he'd be back before dusk, so his father agreed and let him be.
He stood there for several minutes, gazing at the gravestone's inscription. He silently talked to his mother, as if expecting her to answer. It seemed stupid, but at the moment, he saw no other way to cope with his inner pain.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise."
"Aren't you being a little harsh on yourself?"
Once more, Takebayashi's voice snapped him out of it. She hadn't left yet, and it was then he noticed she was holding an envelope in his hand. But he paid no heed to it.
"I know everyone at school is upset about the match. But it's not your fault they lost. Everyone in the team used you as the scapegoat just to feel better about themselves."
"Maybe," he said with resignation. "But it changes nothing. Only the result matters."
"Even so… maybe something good could come out of this," said Takebayashi. "I wanted to give you this before, but when the scouts came you weren't at school, so… well, maybe it's not the best time, bit I figured you'd like to have some good news."
The girl handed him the envelope. The seal belonged to the Superior Academy Toho, one of Japan's most prestigious schools, and whose soccer team had won several national titles, both in middle and high schools levels, as well as university.
He glanced at Takebayashi with a questioning expression. The envelope probably meant they wanted to recruit him for their ranks. Maybe due to his silence, she decided to answer his unspoken question.
"The scouts were very interested in you, you know? Even though you lost the finals, your performance was great. Isn't that cool? Such a high-caliber team coming to recruit you."
Once upon a time, that now seemed to far away, Fuutarou would have been thrilled to hear that. To be part of a team like that, it would definitely bolster him in his goal, to be Japan's best player. Even though in the last few years they hadn't been able to do a lot, with some hard work and training he'd managed to stand out during his senior year, to get the best team's attention.
Now he was being offered a full sports scholarship. It was the dream of any player worth their salt, whoever aspired to become a pro.
'To be a pro… how can I think about that, when I couldn't even win a simple middle school tournament?'
And in an act that seemed unthinkable, Fuutarou grabbed the envelope and without even looking at it, shredded it in half, making Takebayashi gasp. Not surprising; she surely wouldn't expect that.
"What have you done?! It's a full scholarship, a great chance!"
"I know," he replied. "But those are for promising players, not for me."
"What are you saying?! How can you…?!"
The boy raised a hand to shut her up, giving her a stern glare. He'd prepared his answer, and once he started, nothing would stop him.
"Sport scholarships are for exceptional players. A player who's unable to score at the crucial moment doesn't deserve to be in a great team like that. I'd do nothing but to be a dead weight."
While he didn't say it at the time, the truth was that his former teammates words had drilled much deeper in him than he first thought. Inside, he knew things could have been different if he'd just kicked the ball somewhere else in the PK, if he hadn't telegraphed where he was aiming the shot. They'd have won the match and the championship, and now he'd be the hero, instead of the idiot who screwed it up all at the last possible moment.
One minimal mistake had ruined everything, and he couldn't change that.
"Well, but I'm sure there must be many other schools interested in recruiting you. It's not the end of the world, is it?" Takebayashi asked.
"No, of course it isn't," he said with resignation. "I'll just have to find a different path in life… one that doesn't involve soccer."
Again, Takebayashi gasped. He wasn't surprised by her reaction; for a boy like him, who loved soccer, to say something like that was inconceivable. But he'd already made up his mind. Not that he actually needed a scholarship: while his grades weren't perfect, he'd never been a bad student, and he could easily be admitted in any decent school through the academic program.
Seeing she had no reply, he figured it was a good time to leave the place. He'd stayed there long enough. His father and little sister probably were worried, so he'd better go home and meet with them.
"Thank you for coming to the funeral," he said upon passing by her.
He walked slowly, but didn't dare to look behind. He didn't want to see the disconcerted expression in his friend's face, as it would probably make his resolve falter. He'd had enough days to think about it, and he realized that, should he continue down that path, it'd bring him nothing but pain.
After all, he'd failed his team in the last second, by not scoring that crucial goal. He'd failed his mother, for not keeping the promise he made. And worst of all… he'd failed himself.
It was time to find another path in life, one that didn't involve during over the grass, chasing after a soccer ball.
FIN (for now)
Author's notes:
What's up, people? Well, well, I could finally bring out this little preview, that was months overdue. For those who'd been following my stories about the quintuplets, you may already be aware that I was planning on doing a sports-themed AU, or more specifically, of a Fuutarou who chose soccer over studies. In case it's not clear enough, the match Fuutarou recalls having played here is the same we see in Yotsuba's flashbacks (manga chapters 87-90, I hope they don't get cut off from the movie) where there's a coach clearly based on Maradona. I figured that, if I had to establish a previous connection between him and the sisters, it'd be better to do so with the AU's thematic, soccer in this case.
Now then, in this prologue I may have taken a few of the typical clichés in Yoichi Takahashi's works (more specifically, of killing off characters in traffic accidents), but given that we know so little of how Fuutarou's mom died, I figured this'd be the best way to (forgive the pun) kick off the plot. If you're familiar with Takahashi's works, then you may have noticed that I took elements from the backstories of Kojiro Hyuga (his father dies in a car accident on the same day he has an important match) and Kyosuke Kanou (he abandons soccer due to personal issues). So the starting premise would be that Fuutarou will have to face and overcome his personal demons to retake the road to the dreams he abandoned.
Lastly, I'd like to leave something very clear before you ask: I'm not gonna work in full in this story until I've finished Shape of the Heart (that one's more or less halfway completed, as to what I've planned), so please don't come asking me when I'm gonna start. You know I like to write at my pace, besides I have other fics and compromises in real life, so don't put pressure on me, okay? Before I leave, my thanks to Shadechu Nightray for her beta-reading, as well as my fellow writers on the Discord server, hope this can alleviate the wait while I post the next chapter of Shape of the Heart. Sayonara!
