The sound of the ball rolling over asphalt was different from the sound of grass.

It was rougher. Drier.

More real.

Alex felt it beneath his feet, just as he had hundreds of times before.

A touch. A control. A quick turn.

The streets of his old life had no stands filled with people.

There were no referees calling fouls.

There was no team backing him up.

It was just him, the ball, and the instinct to stay on his feet.

He had learned to move before they could hit him.

He had learned to find spaces where none existed.

He had learned to play alone.

Because, at the end of the day, it didn’t matter how fast you ran, how well you dribbled, or how much talent you had...

If no one wanted to play with you, you were lost.

"You're too arrogant."

"You think you're better than the rest."

"You don't belong here."

Words.

Words he had heard more times than he cared to admit.

Words that, for a long time, he thought would define his life.

But then, everything changed.

A plane ticket.

A completely different country.

A man who looked him in the eyes and said:

"If you keep playing alone, you won’t get anywhere."

Now, in a Japanese high school where he was the outsider, the stranger, the foreigner…

Where he didn’t even know if he wanted to keep playing…

The ball rolled to his feet once more.

And Alex realized he couldn’t escape it.

Because, even if he didn’t want to admit it…

Football had always been waiting for him.

But this time, he wasn’t alone.