Chapter 2: The 'Motivating' Speech.
Ayumi woke up earlier than she ever had before-earlier even than her previous record of 12 AM. She groggily packed her things, showered, changed, and ate breakfast.
With breakfast out of the way, Ayumi slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, grabbed the letter from the JFU, and skimmed over the address one last time before stepping out of her three-story house.
She opted to walk to the building, preferring the peace and quiet over the mind-numbing chatter of her driver. He had a knack for interrupting her thoughts with idiotic questions, and more often than not, she found herself just tuning him out.
After a brisk walk, Ayumi found herself standing before a towering building, the tallest she had ever seen. She double-checked the address to ensure she was at the right place.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed a dark blue-haired boy talking to a platinum-haired one. The dark-haired boy's demeanor screamed that he didn't want to be there. *Introverts unite,* Ayumi thought with a small, private smirk.
Not wanting to draw attention, she quickly made her way to the building's entrance before the boys could catch her side-eyeing them.
Standing in front of the closed doors, Ayumi hesitated, second-guessing whether she should just turn around and bolt home.
But as she pivoted to make her escape, she collided with someone, falling backward onto the floor. "Ow... sorry..." she mumbled, barely loud enough for herself to hear. The person she bumped into didn't seem to care, though. "Aw... I died..." Ayumi looked up to see a white-haired boy with gray eyes glued to his phone, while a purple-haired boy beside him seemed oblivious to her presence on the floor.
"Nagi... I told you not to play games while walking," the purple-haired boy scolded the so-called Nagi. Ayumi took this as her cue to quickly and quietly slip inside the building, avoiding any further interaction.
Once inside, she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding-only to be taken aback by the sight of the room packed with boys. *What... the... actual-* she thought, her eyes widening. Hoping to remain unnoticed, she retreated to a corner. *I need to catch up on all the sleep I missed this morning,* she reasoned.
Settling into her corner, Ayumi curled up, bringing her knees to her chest, and used her hands to create a makeshift pillow for her head. Before long, she drifted off.
It wasn't long before she was stirred by the sound of someone speaking. "Congratulations, you unpolished gems. All of you Under-18 strikers have been chosen solely based on my criteria and biases to be here. All 300 of you. I am Jinpachi Ego. My job is to make Japan a team capable of winning the World Cup."
"I'll put it in simple terms. Japan only requires one thing to become the strongest powerhouse in football, and that is the creation of a revolutionary striker. From the 300 players gathered here today, I will forge the best striker in the world through a certain project." Ayumi heard whispers around her but didn't lift her head. "All of the revolutionary strikers!! Their extraordinary egoism is the one thing Japan's football lacks. You will not become the greatest strikers in the world unless you have the ego to match. My purpose here is to create such a player in Japan."
Ayumi could feel herself dozing off again. *This guy sure can talk,* she mused, rolling her eyes internally before reluctantly lifting her head and standing up. The room felt more crowded than when she first entered, but she remained tucked away in her corner.
Surveying the scene, Ayumi couldn't help but compare the speaker to a real-life Vector 2.0, only with a lot more words.
*Best striker in the world, huh?* Lost in thought, she barely noticed when a familiar voice piped up.
"Umm, excuse me? I can't consent to your explanation. Each of us has our own precious teams, and some of us are preparing for nationals." Ayumi turned, recognizing the platinum-haired boy from outside.
"Running off to some place that makes no sense... I can't abandon my team to participate in that."
Others quickly jumped in. "Yeah, I've got nationals too."
"And what's that stuff about living together?" It took a moment for Ayumi to process the last part. *Wait, I'LL BE LIVING WITH BOYS?!* That was the final straw. Ayumi spun around and made a beeline for the door.
But just as she reached it, Jinpachi Ego's voice rang out again. "Then leave, if you want to go, I won't stop you," he said, his tone dripping with smugness. Ayumi froze. *Why does reverse psychology have to be my weakness?* she thought bitterly. *And of course, bowl-cut guy here is a master at it.*
"Your teams are precious?... instead of becoming the world's best, you'd rather be the best high schooler in our country's soccer backwater?"
"I get depressed when people like you are carrying the future of Japanese soccer." *...damn,* Ayumi thought, feeling the sting of his words. "Let me ask you, just what is soccer?" *Nah, imma pass, thanks,* Ayumi mentally checked out, her thoughts drifting to the Oreos she left at home.
Most of Ego's words blended into background noise, except for, "...You may proceed ahead." That was enough to snap Ayumi back to reality just in time to see the walls opening. *...that's pretty sick,* she muttered, momentarily impressed. She considered being the first to enter until the dark blue-haired boy from earlier dashed ahead, sprinting as if his life depended on it. Ayumi couldn't help but roll her eyes. *It's not that deep, bro...* She decided to stay in her corner, not wanting to draw attention as the only girl in the room. Soon enough, all 297 boys had passed through the door. She knew this because when she turned her head, she spotted the same white-haired Nintendo (Nagi) and purple-haired chatterbox (Reo) by the door, locked in yet another argument. Ayumi seized the moment and speed-walked through the doors before they noticed her.
Just as she crossed the threshold, she heard Ego mutter, "Good luck," a grin stretching from ear to ear.
Ayumi cringed internally. *I hate people,* she thought, shaking her head as she walked through the doors.
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