The ball moved before Hibiki even braced himself
Amano didn't dribble like a normal player. He didn't posture or fake or show off. He glided. One moment he was still. The next he was already past. The shift in momentum was so smooth it looked like the floor itself moved beneath him
Hibiki tracked with sharp eyes, reading steps, but even his feet hesitated
There was no rhythm to Amano's movements. No buildup. No breathing patterns. No shoulder drop before acceleration. It was just there. Sudden creation. Sudden silence. Sudden gone
"You're not fast," Hibiki muttered, turning
Amano reappeared on his blindside, backheel-tapping the ball into an imaginary net
"You're...not normal"
Amano said nothing
Hibiki whistled low
"No aura. No ego. No tells. You play like a ghost with a plan"
He tossed another ball out
"Again"
---
After twenty minutes of pure play, Amano sat on a bench made of crates. Hibiki paced slowly in front of him, hands behind his back like a retired general
"You're not made for clubs"
Amano looked up
"You're made for war"
Hibiki crouched, now eye-level
"You keep trying to fix their broken plays. Their broken teammates. You think if you play every position they'll finally see you"
Amano didn't respond
"But you're not meant to fit in. You're meant to reshape the whole field"
Hibiki leaned forward
"So how about it? Forget the scouts. Forget the schools. I'll build a system around you. No club. No name. Just war. Underground matches. Strategy prototypes. You'll learn things not even professional analysts have access to"
Amano stayed silent
Until he looked up
"There's only one condition"
Hibiki grinned
"Name it"
Amano's eyes glowed faintly blue under the flickering warehouse light
"Don't ask me to hold back"
---
By the next evening, Amano was no longer on the school roster. Coach Yoneda made an announcement with a smug smile like he'd finally gotten rid of a mosquito
No one asked where Amano went
Except one person
Rei Satou
She stared at the empty seat beside her in class. Then opened a tab on her laptop labeled "Rumored Underground Football Networks"
And at the top of the list
Warehouse 6
The ghost was gone
But the shadow he left behind had only just begun to move