The day I met you

One-Shot

"You stay here ?"

"Yes. I'm gonna train a little more".

His teammate stared at him for a moment before finally nodding and turning to leave for college.

"Don't be long, Yukimura. It seems there's going to be a big snow storm today".

"Don't worry. I'm just going to make some shots", Yukimura reassured, a balloon under his arm.

"See you Tomorrow then !" His teammate saluted before leaving.

"Yes, see you", the striker replied.

Oujika went finally away, leaving the other teenager alone on the open field. Yukimura sighed and was glad to be able to take advantage of this rare solitude. Even when he was at home, his mother didn't let him in peace. It was only after the practice that the attacker could finally blow.

He glanced at the ball below his arm before putting it on the ground. He tapped on it and dribbled to the cages, imaginary players scattered all over the field without grass. Arrived in front of the cages, Yukimura struck with all his strength on the ball, seeing it fly at full speed to land in the net. It rolled slowly before stopping against one of the goalposts.

Yukimura went to retrieve it, paying attention to the sky above him. He took the ball and went back to the center of the field to start the exercise again. It was usual. For a long time, Yukimura was aiming to be the best striker. When he missed the exercise, he would repeat it as many times as he needed until he mastered it. The same custom every day and at the same time, alone.

As he was about to do it again for the fourth time, the teenager swallowed. He knew that Oujika despised his way of doing things. And his mother kept reminding him that it wasn't necessary. That was why he was always alone to train even when the weather was against him.

Yukimura clenched the balloon in his hands and gritted his teeth. No one supported him. And they allowed themselves to judge. Nothing but this thought left him a bitter taste, difficult to brave. He swallowed again with difficulty and tried not to pay attention to the tears that were pecking at his eyes.

He decided to stop training. With the ball under his arm, Yukimura rejoined the college in order to change, hoping desperately to eliminate this moment of ethereal weakness.

When the striker reached the locker room, no one was there. And so much the better. He didn't want to be with others, and even talk to them. He walked slowly to where his locker was, and pulled out his clothes from his sports bag to get dressed. His clothes were stuck to his skin because of the sweat, and he hadn't thought of bringing a brushf for his messy hair. He sighed. At worst, his mother will be shouting at him on the way to their home.

Yukimura put on his jacket, grabbed his bag and dangled it over his shoulder, sipping water from his gourd as he pushed the door of the locker room to get out. Nobody in the corridors.Well, it was already 6:00 pm. Apart from the principal and some professors, no pupil was present. He wondered whhy he was still there.

Dragging feet, after placing his gourd in his place, Yukimura took his phone, checking whether his mother had already called him or not. Nothing. Usually, she always sent him a message warning him that she would soon be there. Well, it was true that a few times, it happened her to be late. But it was never long. And it was already 6:09 pm, and normally she should have already sent one.

The teenager sighed and collapsed on the bench not far from the entrance. Leaning at the window-sill, his head leaning to the side, Yukimura watched the snow driven by the gusts of wind. The sound whistled to his ears through the glass. Maybe it was because of bad weather. She was blocked somewhere and it had a bad reception. Or maybe it was because of that.