You were a temporary manager of the Japan U20, standing near the benches, watching your team play. You loved all of your players, but there was exception for Shuto. He was your favourite; you showered him with praises after the end of every match. He had always met your expectations.

The ace takes the ball, the audience is loud and so is your heart. You could feel it pounding in your chest, but the excitement carries you away from the fact that a defender had tackled him, tripping onto the ground. The whistle blows and you're frustrated, talking to the coach. The game was gonna continue any second but Shuto wasn't getting up. He was grabbing his ankle, groaning.