nacl: Before I start, I just want to say this; glacises isn't a real condition. It's not medical terminology. I doubt such a disease even exists, under any name. So please, do not take this word for fact, and do not take this condition to be true. It's derived from Latin 'glaciesque' for ice. I don't even know if it's a real word.
The list of OCs that are appearing this time (again, all credit goes to their creators):-
1. Kazuo Taiki
2. Matsumoto Kouruki
3. Minami Koyouri
4. Miruuji Emii
5. Nenriki Kiga
6. Seiji Midori
7. Suzuki Akira
The final seven are being prepped for the match. But their greatest question is that of the unfathomable coach who plans to lead them to victory. But Hitomiko isn't just mysterious; she's arrogant and sadistic and known for her cruel personality. She's also the best coach Japan has seen. But remember children, greatness is relative…
9:27 am. saturday, 9th june. matsumoto household. inazuma, japan.
"Kouruki-chan, finish up your breakfast quickly, Akira-kun is waiting for you!" a pretty young woman called out as she passed the kitchen, a basket of laundry in her hand. She smiled fondly at the fifteen-year-old eating onigiri slowly.
She tilted her head, brushing her spiky, raven, white-tipped hair out of her face, and looked at her aunt with a cold expression, her milky blue eyes never failing to shock her.
Matsumoto Kouruki was a genius soccer player, the captain of the best team in the country. But Kaya never failed to be surprised to the resemblance she bore to her elder brother. The very same dulled eyes – a quirk passed on by her blind sister – approximately the same height, Kouruki had even dyed her blonde locks to match her brother's darker hair.
She was the one most affected by his death. Kaya wouldn't deny that Keitaro's death had been a shock, a car accident marring a day that should have been of celebrations and congratulations; but after she had adopted Kouruki, she had noticed a sudden change in demeanor of the young girl.
She had done everything humanly possible to look like her brother, even binding her chest to make it less noticeable. She had entered into Raimon as a boy, and joined up for the soccer team. It was only in the finals, last year, when her secret finally came out, in the middle of a tense match between the country's two best teams.
Raimon finally won over Zeus Junior High, but it was a narrow win and she knew that Kouruki was still cursing herself for her moment of weakness.
Thank Kami for Suzuki Akira. He had adored Kouruki's brother, and when he died, Akira had devoted his life to protecting Kouruki, honoring Keitaro's dying wish. If it wasn't for Akira, Kaya would have no doubt that Kouruki would be consumed by her over-powering desire to fulfill her brother's dreams.
Kouruki didn't realize that it was okay to follow her own dreams, to live her own life.
Kouruki finished the last onigiri and rinsed her plate before grabbing her soccer ball and opening the front door, where a fourteen-year-old boy was waiting for her.
With messy blonde hair, a black mask covering the lower half of his face, and a red bandanna around his neck, he looked more like a cowboy than the tower of Raimon's perfect midfield.
"Kouruki!" he looked up and smiled as she stepped out, "Practicing today, also?" Kouruki was wearing the Raimon tracksuit and carrying her duffel bag, determined to resolve her problems and destroy her weaknesses the only way she knew how – soccer.
"You need to take a break once in a while, Cicilia-hime," Akira said softly as they walked out of the yard, Kouruki closing the gate behind them. Kouruki was a talented singer and musician, hence earning her nickname as the Music Princess. Her talent at singing was another reason she didn't talk, preferring not to strain her vocal cords with what she deemed as an unnecessary action.
Akira sighed as she didn't even react to his words, doggedly heading for the riverbank. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered. Keitaro was right, Kouruki was a handful, but it was up to him to make sure she didn't get into trouble.
Akira smiled wistfully back to the day when he met the Matsumoto siblings for the first time.
He was the last of seven boys born to a poor blacksmith and his wife who were living at her sister's house in the KanagawaPrefecture. His father and mother were working constantly to pay off the debt to his aunt. As a result, nobody had time for him, and he usually was alone. One day, his brothers decided to play a prank on him, and dumped him into a nearby river. However, the prank got out of control, and seven-year-old Akira nearly drowned.
Thankfully, Keitaro had been passing by, and saved him, taking him back to their home where he met his eight-year-old sister. The Matsumotos were orphans, but their rich aunt had continued to send them money. Enough money for Keitaro to go to Kidokawa Seishuu, to join one of the best soccer teams in the country.
Keitaro had come home, triumphant, after they won the semi-finals. However, he had an argument with a friend on the doorstep of his house, resulting in a horrific car accident. Keitaro had died on the spot. Kouruki was only ten.
After that, their aunt came to take Kouruki away, and Akira was despondent at never being able to see her again, to not be able to fulfill the promise he made to her brother to keep her safe.
But two years later, Akira's aunt, realizing the brilliance of her youngest nephew, sent him to Raimon Junior High, providing with all the amenities necessary to succeed. It was where, coincidentally, Kouruki's aunt lived.
They had resumed their relationship as friends, though Akira viewed her as more of a little sister. It was for this reason that he got into so many troublesome situations, especially when Kouruki decided that becoming a carbon copy of her brother was the only way to honor his memory.
"Ruki-chan," he sighed, "It wasn't your fault."
"I do not recall asking your opinion, Suzuki." Her words were crisp and efficient as always, not using a word more or a word less. Akira threw his hands up in exasperation but followed her as she skidded down the slope to the field at the bottom. It was useless arguing with her.
Kouruki stood at the opposite goalpost, removing the tracksuit to reveal the blue and yellow soccer uniform, stretching and warming up while Akira bounced the ball off his knees and feet, not letting it touch the ground, an example of his perfect ball control.
"Show-off." There was a hint of a smile on Kouruki's face as she moved into position, looking more like a boy than ever.
"You know you love it," Akira smirked before kicking the ball straight at her.
The practice was reflected into the aquamarine eyes of the young women that stood on the bridge, watching the two opposites, light and dark, cheerful and gloomy, dribbling, shooting, blocking against each other.
She noted something down on her clipboard, tucking a long, black bang behind one ear before going down to the riverbank.
Kouruki and Akira paused in the middle of their practice when they saw a woman come into view. She had on a thin black shirt with three-fourths sleeves and was wearing jean capris with black stilettos. On one hand, a diamond bracelet glittered and in the other, she held a clipboard, and she was making her way straight towards them.
"Matsumoto Kouruki," the woman's eyes traveled over Kouruki's form, noting the captain's band on her arm, "Suzuki Akira."
Akira straightened up, looking wary, "Kira Hitomiko, right?" Hitomiko gave a disdainful smile.
"I saw your match in the finals. Impressive." Kouruki stiffened at the woman's condescending tone and Akira narrowed his brown eyes
"Why are you here?" Akira asked, being careful to keep his tone polite. The fact that the most powerful woman in Japan personally sought them out sent warning bells ringing through his head.
"It seems that I'm in need of your services," she said cryptically, "The new clubhouse, nine sharp. Lateness will not be tolerated."
Akira and Kouruki watched, dumbfounded as the woman left, her long, waist-length straight black hair swinging from side to side.
How much arrogance can one woman possess?
11:36 am. saturday, 9th june. market street. inazuma, japan.
"Come on, Neechan, just one ice cream?" Fifteen-year-old Minami Koyouri turned to look at her eleven-year-old brother's puppy dog eyes, he was desperately pleading for a cone.
Sighing, Koyouri fished a handful of bills out of her pocket, paying for the outrageously overpriced Neapolitan cone that he wanted. Her brother knew her weaknesses too well.
He giggled as he licked the triple cone slowly, savoring the taste, watching his sister's reaction out of the corner of his eye.
"If you don't want the cone, Tory, I'll be more than happy to relieve you from the burden of eating it."
Tory snorted, holding the ice cream protectively, "Yeah, when hell freezes over!" He stuck his chocolate covered tongue out at her.
Koyouri glared, "Don't talk with your mouth full!" She sighed and blew a strand of lavender hair out of her face, cursing younger brothers and their disgusting habits.
"Who do you think you are?" Tory said insolently, "Kaasan?" He took a huge bite of the cone and starting cursing as the cold sweet gave him brain freeze.
"Serves you right, you pig," Koyouri said disdainfully, "And who taught you to speak like that?" She raised an eyebrow, waiting for the name of the person who had corrupted her baby brother.
Tory gulped and busied himself with taking a decent-sized bite of ice-cream. Through a mouthful of vanilla, he mumbled, "Shiny."
"I didn't quite hear you, dear brother," Koyouri's glare could've killed. Tory just muttered some more indistinguishable words. However, Koyouri's sharp ears caught the indistinct mumble.
"Ichi-nii?" She narrowed her violet eyes, "Kazemaru Ichirouta?" Tory didn't offer a response but his ears turned red at the words. Taking that at confirmation, Koyouri clenched her fists, planning to teach that idiotic eighteen-year-old a lesson. Humiliating and embarrassing her was one thing, but now that he brought her brother into this, he had to pay.
After all, Koyouri was a Minami, the firstborn of the CEO of the Minami Group, a super-rich company that had founded private hospitals all around the country.
And what she wanted, she got. This was no different.
Koyouri and her annoying neighbor had been marked as enemies ever since she was five and he dumped the entire contents of a muddy well on her head. He was training to be an athlete and she, a doctor, but that didn't stop him from thoroughly aggravating her every time he came around.
It also didn't help that Koyouri's parents were enamored with the boy's so-called manners. Her mother, especially, had hinted – to Koyouri's mortification – that she wouldn't mind the tealnet as a son-in-law.
Kazemaru was the one that taught her and her brother soccer, four years ago, and she supposed she should be thankful to him, to teaching her enough to join Raimon's fabled team in her first year, but his overconfident, obnoxious attitude was enough to deter her from any expression of gratefulness.
"You know, Ichi-nii is nice," Tory informed her, "You should give him a chance, Neechan."
"Kazemaru Ichirouta? Nice?" her sardonic laughter made her brother wince. He had no problem admitting that his sister was smart, intelligent – brilliant, even. She was already in advanced classes and was studying furiously to get into a good high school and then college.
However, she just couldn't see what was so obviously laid out in front of her.
He had to inform his beloved idol of this startling new development, though. It seems his sister hated Kazemaru more than they had thought.
"Minami Koyouri." Tory and Koyouri both whipped around at the cold voice, immediately going on guard. The Minami Group had many enemies and the siblings were always taught that they should be able to protect themselves.
To their surprise, a young woman stood there, wearing a black shirt with jean capris, hands crossed, a silver and diamond charm bracelet glimmering on her right wrist.
Koyouri relaxed, and bowed respectfully, "Kira-san." Kira Hitomiko was the daughter of Kira Seijirou, the head of Kira Enterprises, a powerful weapons manufacturer; in addition to being the most influential and controversial soccer coach in history.
"Your presence is required at Raimon's new clubhouse at nine tomorrow," she said in a tone of voice that clearly expressed how she felt about the Minami heiress, "I will not abide tardiness."
Koyouri glared at Hitomiko's retreating back after she delivered the ambiguous message. If there was one type of people she hated, it was people like her.
Arrogant, rude, derisive, contemptuous.
The people who stood at the top of the world and sneered at everyone below them.
These people failed to realize something. A vital fact that had led to the destruction of kingdoms and fall of empires.
There will always be someone stronger, someone faster, someone better.
1:47 pm. saturday, 9th june. market street. inazuma, japan.
Downtown Inazuma was bustling with the trades of summer, the marketplace open and calling to customers. Business was especially booming in a small restaurant on the main street, a tall redheaded twenty-year-old and a cheerful thirty-year-old woman taking orders and cooking. Occasionally a spiky raven-haired teen would pop inside, taking parcels and delivering them to their recipients.
A twelve-year-old boy paused near the bento store near that restaurant, his mouth watering at the beautifully arranged delicacies in the store window. He was about to go inside and order one of the lunches when he remembered something.
His face falling, the boy continued on his way, kicking a pebble aside to express his frustration.
His black hair was spiked downwards and his startlingly bright sea blue eyes were narrowed, showcasing his dissatisfaction. A pair of red goggles was perched on his head, an unusual accessory. Under one hand was a well-worn soccer ball, whose graffitied cover spoke of years of use.
Kazuo Taiki was grateful for his grandparents for moving to Inazuma, for enrolling him in the prestigious Raimon Junior High, but it was at times like this, seeing the lunches his mother used to lovingly pack for the both of them, that Taiki was reminded of his brother, all the way in America.
It was love at first sight for Taiki's parents. His mother, the last daughter of an affluent clan, had married the handsome American. Both of their parents were against the marriage but it continued anyway. It was a perfect family, almost like a dream.
But, like all dreams, it had to end.
When Taiki and his twin brother, Takuya, were eight, their parents left on a business trip and died in a plane crash.
After months of court battles and legal technicalities, the American and Japanese Foreign Offices clashing against each other, they finally reached an agreement. Taiki was to live with his mom's parents, here, in Japan while Takuya had to move to the US, to live with his father's parents.
They swore a solemn promise, on that foreboding day on which they were separated. They vowed to keep on playing soccer, to find each other, no matter how many miles separated them, to meet each other on the world's stage.
His grandparents, realizing Taiki's dream, immediately entered him into expensive soccer tournaments and went as far as paying for his transfer to Raimon.
He was grateful, of course, but sometimes he felt like he was being a burden on his grandparents. They were, after all, quite old and making sure that Taiki never had to worry about a thing while reaching for the sky was bound to take a toll on them.
Taiki was so caught up in these musings that he walked straight into a sixteen-year-old running in the opposite direction, carrying a delivery box.
Both Taiki and the stranger were sent falling backwards while the delivery box hit the ground and shattered, spilling noodles all over the ground. The soccer ball fell out of Taiki's grasp and bounced out of sight.
"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" the panicked teen helped a bewildered Taiki up, "Did you get hurt? I'm sorry, I was in such a hurry, I –"
"I'm fine," Taiki cut off the other's distressed rambling, looking at the mess of food splattered on the ground, "But your delivery…"
The teen looked down and waved a hand at Taiki, implying it was nothing, "That was for Endou. Serves him right, eating so much ramen."
"But it was my fault," Taiki said sheepishly, "I wasn't looking where I was going. I should pay you –"
This time the boy cut him off, "It's okay, Captain won't say anything. So much sodium isn't good for him anyway."
Taiki bit his lip; still looking worried, "But I –"
"It's fine," the boy smiled warmly. Going to salvage the utensils from the wreckage, he noticed the soccer ball that had rolled into the alleyway. Picking it up, he noted with surprise, the many things scrawled in pen all over it. He showed it to Taiki, "Is this yours?"
Taiki started and gratefully took the ball back. He had almost forgotten about it. Absentmindedly, his fingers traced the biggest letters on the ball, the messy scrawl which proclaimed 'THE WORLD'S BEST'. The boy noticed the phrase and smiled, "You're a soccer player?"
"Ah! Kazuo Taiki, soon-to-be first year!" Taiki bowed, mortified that he had forgotten his manners, and that too for a senpai.
"It's okay, Taiki-kun, I don't like formalities," the boy held out a hand for a shake before bending back down and picking up the broken pieces.
"Utsunomiya Toramaru," he saluted cheerfully with a free hand, "It was a pleasure, Taiki-kun." Toramaru quickly left, leaving Taiki staring after him, dumbfounded.
Utsunomiya Toramaru? As in, THE Utsunomiya Toramaru? The youngest player of Inazuma Japan?
"Kazuo-kun!" It took three times before Taiki realized his name was being called. He turned back, trying to control his shock at finding a member of Inazuma Japan. A 24-year-old woman stood in front of him, looking impatient and irritated.
"You are Kazuo Taiki, right?" she snapped. Taiki mutely nodded, wondering what she wanted. She handed him a note before sweeping past him, looking regal and haughty.
Taiki opened the note to find a map of InazumaTown where Raimon was circled in red. A time and date was scrawled at the top with a warning to be there on time.
Taiki looked at the note, confused, unconsciously tracing the letters on his soccer ball again before he realized something was wrong. Looking at the ball, he saw other letters, added with a blue pen.
'The battle for THE WORLD'S BEST is just beginning.'
5:38 pm. saturday, 9th june. market street. inazuma, japan.
"Why do we have to go shopping right after practice?" fourteen-year-old Seiji Midori complained, yawning, "Couldn't you save your honey spree until tomorrow, Kiga?"
Thirteen-year-old Nenriki Kiga looked horrified at his question, "I'M OUT OF HONEY, DORI-CHAN!"
"Alright, alright, I get it," he grumbled, holding his hands over his ears. Dori, or Flame, as he referred to by most of his teammates, was a perfect example of why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. With vivid red hair spiked straight up, multiple diamond piercings, and narrowed red eyes, Seiji looked like the member of a street gang.
With the high-collared gray shirt he wore with black pants and red sneakers, along with the permanent scowl on his face, Flame did not look like someone you'd want to meet in a dark alley. In fact, the first time Kiga saw him, she'd actually ran to the other side of the street to avoid him.
However, Flame was a cheerful, hyperactive boy, one who craved strawberry cake at every waking moment, and who never hesitated to help someone in need. He and Kiga had become good friends over the course of the school year.
Kiga, on the other hand, was just as bubbly and joyful as her appearance suggested. Orange hair in two short pigtails, with round orange eyes and a petite figure, Nenriki was constantly happy-go-lucky and never failed to cheer anyone up.
Combine that with her obsessive, stalker-like love for Tsunami, and Kiga's antics were the highlight of the day, amusing and entertaining everyone, Seiji most of all.
Both of them were possibly the only cheerful members on Raimon's team. With their mute captain's murky past, a heiress training to become a doctor, said captain's best friend with a hero complex and the suicidal twelve-year-old Miruuji Emii, it was no wonder that Zeus had nearly beaten them.
Shizuka Amaterasu was the genius of their generation, a prodigy, a captain like no other.
They had finally exited the store, an annoyed Seiji carrying ten bags of honey while Kiga skipped ahead, when they saw the woman across the street, staring straight at them, looking incredibly irritated, as if they were late for an appointment they didn't even know about.
"Nenriki Kiga and Seiji Midori," her sea green eyes traveled disdainfully over their dust-covered bodies, "Your presence is required tomorrow, nine am, at Raimon's new clubhouse. Do try to be on time."
Kiga and Midori were left staring stunned after her, as Kira Hitomiko walked away quickly, checking off the last name in her clipboard.
The first part was over.
Now it was up to them.
Who would win?
More importantly, who would lose?
nacl: Yes, I changed Hitomiko's appearance. That woman needs a new wardrobe. Also, I've changed her age as well. I don't think she's actually 24, but, oh well.
lil bro: You…updated…four times…in THREE days…
nacl: (ignores him) I realize this chapter was kinda rushed, but I want to get down to writing them as a team. I hope these chapters brought the OCs to life for you!
lil bro: FOUR times…in THREE days…
nacl: Thank you for reading! Any and all flames will be used to topple government infrastructure so in the interest of national security, please do not insult my story! Unless you're an anarchist, then that's fine. Comments and criticism is, and always will be appreciated! And if I leave mistakes, please point them out.