The Golden Winged Of Football: Haruma Kusaka

Chapter 102 102: Chance Missed

Masaru, Toru, and Rukia stood frozen, the moment had stolen the strength from their bodies. Their wide eyes remained locked on the field, breaths shallow, disbelief pressing heavy against their chests.Kento and Ryusei stayed upright, unmoving, the hope that had lifted them moments ago now collapsing into quiet frustration etched across their faces.

At the dugout, Minato dragged a slow frustrated hand through his hair, while Raon kicked the turf in visible anger. Beside them, Shiori watched without a word, her eyes shimmering as tears gathered, pain, worry, and belief tangled tightly in her gaze.

From the VIP balcony, silence ruled. The senior Tokyo Wolves sat with heavy, expressionless faces, the excitement drained from the air. Ismau remained still among them, his gaze fixed forward, serious and unreadable.

Across the stadium, the mood was far different on the opposite VIP box from where Shuya slammed his wine glass to the table, pressing both his hands to his forehead in raw frustration. Beside him, Ameha leaned forward, eyes sharp and unblinking, watching the match with cold, focused intensity.

Haruma remained on his knees, chest rising and falling hard, before he slowly began to lift his eyes, and there he saw Kazutora standing towering over him, calm and imposing, watching the ball arching high above them in the sky.

"Kazutora really proved himself there!" the commentator exclaimed with a flat tone. "A clean tackle, pure skill… Haruma was completely shut down!"

Haruma swallowed hard, dragging in a breath that felt painfully empty, sweat pouring down his face as he kept his eyes locked up at Kazutora, eyes wide, body still heavy from the impact.

Above them, the ball began to drop back toward the field, where a Tyrant was already moving into position to claim it.

Kazutora watched the ball descend, then slowly lowered his gaze back to Haruma.

For a moment Kazutora just stared at Haruma with his eyes cold and empty of any mercy before speaking up in a low, chilling voice.

"You lost, Haruma."

Haruma's eyes snapped wide, with his heart thudded once in his chest, loud, violent, then seemed to go eerily still.

A cruel smirk twisted across Kazutora's face.

"Neither a pathetic striker like you can score against me," he continued calmly, venom dripping from every word. "And none of your bullshit teammates can stop me… from scoring."

A Tyrant collected the dropping ball and fired a sharp pass straight into Kazutora's way.

Still wearing that cruel smirk, Kazutora without another glance turned his back on Haruma and began taking a few smooth strides forward, collecting the ball in mid-strides, and in the same breath he exploded into a full sprint, tearing straight toward Tokyo's net.

"I lost…"

"I lost…"

Haruma whispered to himself, the words hollow and trembling. His vision dimmed as he shut his eyes, sinking the scene into darkness.

"Stoooop him!"

The darkness shattered as Raya's voice ripped through the field, heavy with panic.

"Kazutoraaaa is rushing!"

The commentator shouted, excitement surging as the danger ignited once more.

Jiho snapped his attention onto Kazutora, letting out a roar of frustration, before bursting into a full sprint, tearing after him. From another angle, Nagisa clenched his jaw and launched forward as well, quickly joining the chase.

The fans shot to their feet, bodies leaning forward in pure anticipation.

From the sidelines, Minato and Raon watched with clenched teeth, panic flashing clearly in their eyes as the danger surged closer.

At the far end, Kurogami stood waiting. A wild smirk crept across his face as he set his stance, shoulders lowering, muscles coiling. Behind him, the dark wings seemed to spread wider, his presence sharp and ready, as if inviting Kazutora to come.

Guarding the nets and Kurogami, Kabuto, and Itsuki surged forward together, teeth clenched, determination blazing in their eyes.

Seeing them close in, Kazutora's smirk deepened, as he kicked his pace up another gear, while Itsuki and Makoto sprinted straight toward him, aiming to cut him down head-on.

Just then, Nagisa came sliding in from the side, throwing his leg across Kazutora's path, but Kazutora snapped the ball left at the last instant but Jiho was already there.

Rushing in, Jiho slid his foot forward to intercept, but Kazutora dragged the ball back with his heel, slipping it cleanly between Jiho's legs. In the same fluid motion, he spun around Jiho's body, bursting out the other side and reclaiming the ball in stride.

Nagisa and Jiho slid past helplessly, losing their balance as Kazutora burst forward through the opening.

Itsuki charged in next, lining up a brutal shoulder tackle, but Kazutora shifted the ball at the last instant, slipping past the tackle and surging ahead without breaking stride.

Just then Kabuto came flying in, violent and desperate, swinging his leg at Kazutora's aiming to score a foul, but Kazutora snapped a sharp, lightning-fast pass ahead straight between Itsuki's legs, dodged past his aggressive attack, and collected the ball on the other side in one fluid motion.

Challenge after challenge collapsed behind him as Kazutora kept rushing forward, untouched, relentless, unstoppable.

Itsuki was left with wide-eyes, frozen in disbelief. Jiho was stunned into horrifying silence while Nagisa was soaked in sweat, and Kabuto fought for breath. With every step Kazutora took toward the box, Raya felt the tension coil tighter in his chest.

At the goal, Kurogami's smirk widened as he lowered his stance further, arms spreading slightly as a heavy black aura surged around him, rising with terrifying force. His sharp eyes stayed locked forward, unwavering.

Across the chaos, Kazutora's smirk twisted into something cruel. A vivid red aura began to spill from his body, burning bright.

Kento's eyes snapped open, his jaw falling as if a scream were trapped in his throat. Nearby, Haruma's mother stared without blinking, her breath shallow, her entire attention bound to the moment unfolding on the field.

Kazutora reached the edge of the box where

Kurogami guarded the net, with dark aura surging heavily around Kurogami, while a violent red aura bled from Kazutora, pulsing with raw intent. Both of their eyes were stretched wide with razor-sharp focus, wild smirks twisting across their faces.

The stadium itself helds its breath.

'Kazutora against Kurogami!' The commentators cried out, voices trembling with excitement. "Captain against captain!"

Kurogami planted his feet deep into the turf, muscles tightening, body primed to explode into the dive.

Kazutora's smirk widened as he drew back his leg and swung with everything he had, the moment dragging the breath out of the entire stadium.

With the final roar roared, Kazutora with red aura flaring wildly around him, struck the ball with a resounding clash but a foot came sliding in at the last instant, smashing into the shot and killing it before it could even take the flight.

Kazutora's red aura shattered into nothing, making his eyes fly wide in pure disbelief.

The stadium froze.

Mouths hung open across the stands. Kento's jaw dropped completely. Ryusei stood rigid, stunned. Masaru, Toru, Ismau, Keiichi, Minato, Raon, everyone stared with wide eyes, breath stolen, unable to process what they had just witnessed.

Kurogami's wild smirk widened heavily through the silence, "Took you long enough, you crazy-ass wolf!"

Then the moment snapped, to reveal the player as none other than the youngest player to be out there…Izaya.

He had stepped into the shot and stolen it in a heartbeat. The strike died on contact. The impact shuddered through him, boots carving deep lines into the turf, yet Izaya never went down as his eyes were wide, calm, centered and unshaken.

Carried by the force of the impact, Izaya was sliding away with the ball dancing obediently at his feet. Just then Kazutora's face went hard with raw rage, as he instantly launched himself forward, hurling a brutal tackle straight at Izaya's feet.

Izaya didn't flinch.

"The ball…" he murmured softly, his voice untouched by the chaos, "…will move as my soul wants it to."

Kazutora's leg came crashing in from Izaya's side, reaching just an inch short of the ball,

and that was when Izaya moved.

He hopped lightly to the left, lifting his body just enough to slip past the tackle, suspended mid-air for a heartbeat, the ball resting calmly on his foot as if it belonged there. The control was unreal, effortless, absolute, a moment of pure beauty that left everyone watching frozen in awe.

Kazutora skidded past beneath him, completely stunned.

The field fell into a crushing silence, frozen by the sheer audacity and precision of Izaya's touch.

"Morooon!"

Kazutora snapped, fury tearing through his disbelief as he again, immediately turned on Izaya, throwing his foot in again for another sliding tackle.

Izaya landed lightly and, without wasting even a heartbeat, pulled both himself and the ball back from the tackle, but not back down Kazutora began charging ahead, throwing his left foot, then his right, again and again, each tackle coming harder than the last. But Izaya, with his face carved with calm focus, kept dribbling, gliding the ball away from every attempt, slipping past each challenge with precise, effortless touches.

The stadium fell into a stunned hush.

Fans sat frozen, eyes locked on the field, watching in disbelief as Izaya weaved through the rapid tackles at once, an unreal display of control and composure unfolding right before them.

From the VIP balcony, Hideo from the senior wolves side stood frozen, eyes stretched wide as the memory of his own words—let your soul play—flashed vividly through his mind.

"He's in the flow," He said in a low, composed tone. "His soul and the ball are one right now."

Around him, the others didn't respond. No one looked away. Every gaze remained locked on the field, transfixed by the beautiful play by Izaya.

Kazutora, reaching his peak of frustration, threw himself violently at Izaya, but before he could reach, Izaya flicked the ball slightly up, causing Kazutora to freeze for a moment.

Izaya kept his calm, focused eyes locked on the ball as it hovered in the air. With quick, precise touches of his foot, he flicked it to the left, then flicked it back to the right, shifted it left again then right, each movement flowing into the next. The ball never touched the ground, dancing toggle between his feet as if it were tied to him by an invisible thread.

Kazutora lunged in with wide eyes, but Izaya was already ahead of the moment. With one final, feather-light tap in mid-air, he slipped the ball past Kazutora's left, then glided himself around him to collect it in stride, leaving Kazutora in his dust.