Hiro sat on the bench of the changing room, the weight of unseen eyes pressing down on him. Calves and thighs burned, and each breath left his mouth parched. He scouted around the room, searching for water. The closest means to drink was the scoop in Serin’s hand, which she dipped into its depths of an unsanitized bucket lying on the corner. After noticing the mould on the wood’s edge, Hiro gave in to the need to drink.

“Take it easy, kid. No need of running all the time,” Tarth said, his tone gruff yet comforting. Beside him, Rufus nodded, his hooves clacking as he shook off the dust. “You’re a vanguard.”

Rufus nodded more emphatically, his voice deep as Tarth’s, but softer. “Exactly. Vanguards attack; Guardians defend. Dat’s it.”

“Rufus, don’t charge against Vini, he’s too fast!’ Serin said, a hint of anger. “Tath, Sand is playing with you. Stop running around as well.”

“Calm down, calm down,” Testa said. “We’ll do this. Rufus and Tarth move like one, both covering whoever brings the ball. Serin, you’ll mark at distance whoever comes as support. Forget about the man and concentrate on blocking the pass. We will push them to shoot from far and with the two guards over who shoot, we can prevent rebounds. We leave the attack to Hiro. long passes and shots if you’re tired. Let’s go!”

It felt good to hear Testa speak some sense, and with renewed energy, Hiro returned to the field. The second half unfolded with the sense there was more control over the rivals. On defence, Vini and Sand found no easy passage. On attack, though, being worn out and isolated, Hiro struggled to find a gap between the other three surrounding him as well. As the minutes ticked by, Sand seized an opportunity, breaking through with a fortunate run past Rufus and Tarth. Charging straight toward the goal line, he leaped with all his might. Arso quickly cast his wind spell, but unlike with the ball, Sand’s heavy frame resisted the wind, pushing through with relentless force. Ball hit the floor behind the line, hands holding tight. Draw on the blackboard makings changed to what was supposed to mean a humiliating five to zero.

Seeing no way out, Serin began to join the attack positions in big sprints and return with other unflagging runs to defend. As she threw herself into the fray, her fatigue was as obvious as was Hiro’s. When Vini missed his next shot, Tarth sent a long ball soaring twice, setting up Serin for a counterattack. She deftly dodged the nearest defender, who pursued her relentlessly, while another closed in, leaving Hiro with only one opponent to face.

With a swift and almost impossible arm throw, Serin launched the ball, sending it bouncing directly to Hiro’s hand. With the defender charging to him, he feinted to the left, his movements quick and deceptive, before darting to the side with the agility of a seasoned player. His opponent faltered, dropping to one knee, unable to keep pace. Without hesitation, Hiro sped up, his focus narrowing on the inner goal. He knew that neither a magical cat nor Mira herself could prevent him from scoring a ten point goal.

Serin’s voice rang out behind him, desperate and alarmed, “No, no!” But Hiro paid no attention. As he lifted his gaze to locate the perfect opening, his eyes locked with Mira’s. In that instant, the world around him was swallowed by an impenetrable darkness, as if reality itself had dissolved into the void.

His legs faltered, losing speed and trembling uncontrollably until all strength abandoned them. He collapsed to his knees, his gaze locked on two glaring torches of azure power. He could neither turn nor look away, as if some invisible force held his head in place. Surrounded by darkness and imprisoned by magic, Dread pierced into his mind, distorting his thoughts and slashing his emotions. His heart clenched, each beat pounding in his ears, while freezing sweat seared his skin. Amidst the nothingness, a single string of thoughts remained, unstoppable and relentless: To scream for help. To escape, hide, and beg for an end.

As Mira blinked, the world came rushing back. His thoughts cleared and emotions eased, but his hands still trembled uncontrollably, and tears welled in his eyes.

A ragged breath filled his lungs just as Sand crouched before him. “First time?” he asked.

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“Yes,” Hiro barely answered.

“It gets easier.” Sand took his hand and helped him to his feet. “She takes the game seriously, that’s why. Don’t hold a grudge, she’s a great girl.”

Hiro took a few minutes to recover from a lingering sensation of unease, the kind that felt as if something dangerous lurks just behind. Meanwhile, Serin launched into another counterattack, her body moving at an almost impossible speed. Still close to the goals, Hiro searched desperately for a way to shake his defender, but the opponent clung to him with unwavering strength.

Serin dropped the ball and took her shot. Once again, the cat appeared, effortlessly snatching the ball from the air.

“Once again?” the beast yelled.

It was small, barely a metre tall, and its slim form moved with an eerie resemblance to a human. Covered entirely in fur, it walked on two legs, with hands and feet shaped much like those of a person instead of paws. Yet, its face was unmistakably that of a cat, with oversized ears that stretched from the base of its jaw to the top of its head. Upon seeing Hiro’s stare, the beast threw the ball into its own goal and strode towards him. Its big, yellow eyes constricted to a line. “What are you looking at, you piece of shit? Want me to bite your face off?”

The beast hissed and repeated the treat. Her demeanour, reminiscent of the juvenile delinquents from old comics, might have been terrifying if not for a pitch-perfect voice resembling a sweet little girl from the same cartoons.

Sand yelled, “Mira, minute!” Without truly focusing, Hiro caught the movement out of the corner of his eye as Mira’s hand executed an elegant gesture, causing the cat girl to vanish.

Time was nearly up, and Hiro couldn’t go on. Exhaustion had overtaken him, and his legs no longer obeyed his commands. Vini scored three more points, and then Serin, never giving up to defeat, made one last desperate play. She outmanoeuvred one defender, but did not escape the grip of the next. Trapped, she kicked the ball forward. Hiro’s defender took the lead, shoving Hiro into a last attempt. He sprinted and soon outpaced the guard, a man of strength but with little speed. This time, instead of grabbing the ball, Hiro kicked it to the side. The defender, along with the one Serin had evaded, closed in.

Hiro kicked and began a run with free hands. The defenders, though confused, did their best, but even in his exhausted state, Hiro was faster. He dribbled them and faced Mira again, this time keeping his gaze down. Knowing he needed to score the most points, he prepared for a long shot. Hiro planted his foot firmly next to the ball, his leg drawing back as he focused his aim to the farthest corner of the outside goal. Mira’s arm moved, and the cat darted towards the target. In a swift motion, Hiro lowered his leg and feinted, taking a sidestep to reposition himself for a shot at the centre. Summoning every ounce of energy, his foot connected with the leather. The ball spun forward and struck Mira squarely in the face.

As the whistle signalling the end of the match blew, the ball rolled back onto the field, but it was Mira’s, but what rested beyond the goal line. She held onto a bloodied nose, brave enough to hold back a sob. Hiro approached with hesitant steps as the others crowded around the goalkeeper. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, raising praying hands over his head.

“It’s fine, this is the Game,” she murmured from behind a napkin Sand was gently pressing against her face.

The summoned cat strode forward, its eyes blazing with fury. “How dare you hit my master, punk? I’m gonna kill you!” It hissed, leaping with claws outstretched. But before it could reach Hiro, it dissipated at Mira’s command.

“Yu-huy! Bricks and planks for tomorrow, drinks and sweet buns for today. Testa pays!” Vini exclaimed, throwing an arm over Hiro and giving him an enthusiastic shake with a following squeeze equally irritating. “Kid, that run with the ball at your feet was incredible. Teach me how to do that!”

Back in a changing room, where no one actually changed, Testa began a speech that Hiro only half understood, the words blurring into a mix of languages as his jinx’s power faded. People gradually filtered out, leaving only Mira, who was receiving healing from Mrs. Krissef, and Testa and Serin, who were deep in discussion.

“Where do we shower?” Hiro asked.

Serin and Testa both frowned at his question, and Mira stepped closer, reaching to check his neck. She raised a hand, infusing her magic into him. “Better?” she asked softly.

Before Hiro could respond, a sharp slap landed on the back of his head. He turned to find Dornio, shaking a suppressor in the air, his face twisted and red. “You took advantage of my good heart, and now the suppressor is broken! I knew I shouldn’t have let you use two jinxs! You’re paying for this, and it’s not cheap!”

Serin took the bracer from Dorino’s hand and brought it close to Mira. The two of them examined it, their eyes narrowing as they examined the melted metal and charred leather. They exchanged a look, unspoken disbelief turning into concealed excitement.