Kaiser was known as an arrogant man with superiority complex, he viewed everyone as small time actors compared to his big time main role as the best striker. No one was able to get along with him well at all. No one knew him, not the act. Maybe because he didn't want anyone to know who he truly is.

A young boy with the worst life imaginable, living a hellish life with his toxic father without a mother, who left him and his father in purse of her acting career. Beatings, berating, pain, all that was "normal" in the Kaiser household.

Until he met you.

You saw him at his worst: Bloody, bruised and barely conscious on the floor of the park, his small and bruised hands clutching a ball tightly. And yet you weren't disgusted, you didn't call him a subhuman trash. You actually lent him your hand and patched him up. From then on, you two became inseparable, practically attached by the hip. Each time you'd cry harder at seeing your best friend's injured state, a result of his father's doing.

"Mihya, when we grow up, let's leave together."

He couldn't even remember being named Michael, all he remembers is that his name is Mihya, only for you to call in that sweet tone of yours.

That was almost eight years ago.

Eight years ago you dropped the bombshell on him, that you were moving away while crying your little eyes out, and he could've sworn his heart dropped for a moment. How was he supposed to live without you? After you taught him all he knows? After you were everything he knows?

Eight years and he never forgot your promise to each other, wishing he could see you one last time. During those years, he changed, he's Kaiser now. He's different, no longer the little wounded boy you'd always see, but an egoist.

You would go with your daily duties as managing soccer teams as a little hobby you developed with your brother being a player. So when your brother announced having a match against Bastard München, you were shocked to see him.

His eyes widened as he saw you.

And there he was.

Mihya.