The Invite

Toshiro was now currently walking home through an empty park after the match, his face covered up to hide from certain people. He had turned down his teams offer to go celebrate as usual.

His white hair, emotionless blue eyes tinted orange by the setting sun.

He stopped. Looked into the sky. Rage crackled on his brows and anger shown in his eyes. And he let loose a cathartic scream of pain and rage to the heavens.

"AHHHHHH."

The shout spread throughout the park. Fortunately, it was late, so no one was around to witness.

Silence returned to the park.

He had paused to catch his breath. The only sound one could hear was his chaostic panting.

Until till he stopped.

There, he stood surrounded by silence. All one could hear was the air and the gentle shaking of leaves.

As though what he had done never happened, he continued walking on, his expression neutral and his eyes lifeless as usual.

When he got home. He calmly made his way to his room. His mum hadn't returned from work yet. So he went to take a shower.

Mid shower, he was again over run by emotion. He stood there as the water pelleted his head.

"16 years." He muttered. "16 goddamn years. I've been in this godforsaken place for 16 goddamn years. The old man said I was going to love this place. but he couldn't have been more wrong. I hate it here. You were born into the wrong world, he said, but how can this trash be the right one? This aopologetic nonsense."

"I just want to play football my way, but I can't. Each time I pass the ball and they miss. It feels like a part of my heart is being ripped up. Yet, this country emphasises on teamwork so much. Grace and dignity in failure.

If I played the way I wanted to, I would never be able to play professionally. My career would end here.

I should just quit and become a service servant or something. But I love the game too much to stop. Is this hell? Am I being tortured?

The only good thing about this life is my mum and maybe my old man."

Getting out of the shower and putting on a new set of clothes, he went to lie on his bed, just staring at his ceiling. His phone buzzing from messages from friends.

He later got up from his bed he had heard the main door opening indicating his mum was home. He went to go welcome her.

"Hey, there's my little prince charming. My little supa strika. Come give your mother a hug." Said a black hair gorgeous, looking middle-aged woman in a ladies suit before pulling Toshiro into a forced hug.

"You need to stop doing this whenever you come home." Toshiro protested with a helpless smile.

"Awe, how you say that? You would deprive your own mother of the only thing that she has to look forward to after a long day at work dealing with those annoying and greedy bastards?" She cried, still hugging Toshiro.

He lived together with his mother, Aiko Hitsugaya, since he was a child. His dad usually travelled overseas for work.

Aiko Hitsugaya looked at her son's face, although she never expressed it. The listless demeanour of her child worried her a lot. She had tried many things, but nothing seemed to work.

"Oh, before I forget a letter came in the mail for you." She said before handling her son an envelope.

"A letter?" Toshiro asked with confusion as he took the envelope.

He wasn't expecting any mail, and fan mails were never as plain or normal as the one he was receiving.

"Huh?"

"What is it, son?" His mum asked.

"It says that I am one of a chosen few selected for a prestigious and exclusive experimental football workshop called Blue Lock." He explains to his mum.

"Blue Lock, you say. Did you not sign up for it?" His mum asked

"No, I don't remember signing up for anything like this." Toshiro replied.

"Well, are you going to go?" Aiko asked

"Yea probably, it wouldn't hurt to check it out. I might meet some interesting people." He responded.

"Alright, when is it?" She enquired.

"About a week from now."

"That's great. Why don't you start preparing now and I'll get dinner ready." She said and watched him walk upstairs to his room.

She had no problem with her son going to the workshop because she trusted her son's judgement. And also because the only other time she had seen a glimpse of emotion or joy from his aside from when they were at home with her was when he played football.

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