Chapter 18 NTR Guy, Becomes a Loser
#Rabu Kome ga HajimattaNTR Guy, Becomes a Loser
Akagi’s PoV
As I put on my uniform on the stadium’s turf and stepped onto the pitch, the feeling of returning after my rehabilitation rushed through my body.
This was my first official match since recovering from injury. With today’s match against the U.S. national team, I felt a mix of nervousness and excitement.
Surely, God hasn’t abandoned me.
While warming up, Sasaki, one of my teammates, approached me.
“Akagi, how are you feeling?”
“I’m in great shape. Leave today’s match to me.”
I was seriously fired up today.
I haven’t been playing around with girls lately, so in a way, I’ve got extra energy to burn.
I’m going to unleash it all in this match…
With that resolve, the match soon began.
Early in the match, while keeping an eye on my position and observing the defender marking me, I focused on the flow of the play. The pressure from the U.S. national team’s frontline was more intense than expected, and my teammates seemed to struggle to break through their press. Though the match had just started, everyone was cautiously moving the ball.
Meanwhile, I looked for an opportunity to receive the ball up front.
The moment a teammate gained possession and looked forward to survey the field, I dashed into the space behind the defenders.
Immediately after, a long pass from my teammate rolled precisely into the space where I was running.
As expected, they’re not like the lousy guys I played with in the youth league.
Being selected for the national team meant everyone here had serious skills.
Tension coursed through me as I concentrated on controlling the ball securely.
But then, something unexpected happened.
The opposing defender closed in on me at incredible speed, and just as I tried to trap the ball, he quickly stretched out his leg.
“What?!”
The opponent’s movement was too fast, and before I could react properly, he had already stolen the ball.
“Damn it!” I cursed inwardly, scrambling to recover the ball, but the opponent quickly passed it on after stealing it.
Damn, they’re good…
Frustrated with my mistake, I quickly reset my focus.
The match had only just begun…
As the match progressed, I received the ball again in a high-pressure situation. Although my earlier mistake lingered in my mind, I shook it off. Rallying myself, I took the ball deep into enemy territory and turned forward in one swift motion.
Don’t underestimate me!
Once again, the opposing defender immediately applied pressure. Undeterred, I tried to dribble past him.
At that moment, my foot slipped, and I lost my balance.
Stretching out, I tried to pass to a nearby teammate, but I was too late.
The ball was taken from me again.
The stolen ball led to a swift counterattack, and in no time, the opponents gained a numerical advantage in our half. The ball I lost raced downfield and rapidly threatened our goal.
I’ve got a bad feeling about this…
Before I knew it, the opponent’s striker easily bypassed our last defender and went one-on-one with the goalkeeper. Calmly, he shot the ball into the net, and a loud cheer erupted from the stands. It was the moment my mistake directly led to a goal.
My breath caught in my throat as I rested my hands on my knees. I could feel the heavy stares of my teammates and the crowd.
My play isn’t cutting it?
You’ve gotta be kidding me…
After the goal, as I was returning to my position, the team captain walked up to me.
“Akagi, what the hell are you doing? Look around you more!”
The captain’s voice was harsher than usual, his disappointment with me glaringly obvious.
So damn annoying…
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“What did you just say? Fine, do whatever you want!”
The captain spat those words and returned to his side.
Sure, maybe losing the ball was my fault. But conceding the goal? That’s on all of you.
Don’t you dare pin it all on me…
As I grumbled to myself and started heading back, an opposing player passed by and said loud enough for me to hear.
“You’re Loser!”
Huh? What did you just say? Did you just call me a loser?
Those words fueled my rage.
Unable to hold back, I grabbed his collar.
“Say that again, you b🬀🬀tard!”
The commotion quickly drew attention, and others intervened.
The referee was the first to rush over, separating me from the opponent. He shot me a stern glare, then pulled a yellow card from his pocket and waved it in my direction.
What? I’m the one at fault here?
I tried to argue, but my teammates held me back.
In the end, my anger simmered unresolved, and the first half ended with us trailing by one goal.
A heavy atmosphere hung over the locker room.
I sat on the bench, replaying the earlier play in my mind, unable to suppress my frustration.
Provoked by the opponent, I had unfairly received a yellow card.
If it comes to this, I might have to consider getting revenge on that guy in the second half when the referee’s not looking.
While the other players were discussing adjustments for the second half, I sat alone, dwelling on these thoughts when the coach approached me.
His expression looked unsettled.
“Akagi, we need to talk.”
The coach’s voice was low and heavy.
What does he want now?
“What is it?”
When I asked, the coach said.
“Your performance in the first half was far below expectations. Not just your play, but also your lack of emotional control. Unfortunately, I’ve decided to bench you for the second half.”
What…? What did you just say?!