I'm Heading Overseas (3)
Shinomiya Affiliated Private High School—better known simply as Shinomiya High School. Widely regarded as Japan's top prestigious high school, it was an escalator school attached to Shinomiya University, one of the nation's elite universities and part of Tokyo's Big Seven. Academics, clubs, sports teams—it excelled across the board, earning it the nickname "dream high school" among middle schoolers nationwide.
But that prestige came at a price. With its own affiliated elementary and middle schools feeding into it, only around a hundred external students got in each year. Just those who shone in academics or arts and athletics could claim that privilege. And with students brimming over with pride, the man tasked with selecting those outsiders—Fujimoto Masato—wore his role like a badge of honor.
Fujimoto Masato: PE teacher at Shinomiya High and coach of its soccer team. He'd secured seven admission slots through three straight national championships and a fresh win in the revamped JFA U-18 League, beating out pro youth squads left and right.
Whew...
Even Fujimoto felt his heart race at the nameplate before him: Tachibana. This was the home of Tachibana Yuichi, the superstar who'd dominated Japanese soccer just a few years back—a legend who'd laid the foundation for the sport here. Sure, they were peers, but Fujimoto had played soccer through college and knew exactly how great the man was. He'd visited once a few months ago, yet the nerves still hit hard.
That presence last time was insane. Not even that big, but that aura. Legends who've graced the world stage really are different. Still, good thing I laid the groundwork for a positive vibe.
Today's target: Tachibana Yuichi's son, Tachibana Luka. A mixed-blood prodigy with middle-school-defying physicality and high-school-level skills—a true chojung-gyo grade talent. He'd been the key player knocking Shinomiya Affiliated Middle School out of the finals two years running, a national youth team regular. This year, Shinomiya Middle fell in the semis to some no-name Higashi Middle School, so no finals clash—but Luka had hammered three past Higashi (who'd beaten Shinomiya) for a 3-0 rout.
With Luka for the next three years, Shinomiya High's soccer team could keep ruling as Japan's top high school powerhouse. And the budget would swell too.
If Haruto—the guy who beat our middle school—joins too... I might even rake in more bonuses than salary.
Right before pressing the doorbell, Fujimoto lost himself in happy fantasies. Of the team's seven slots, one was already Haruto's—the attacking midfielder from Higashi Middle who'd crushed Shinomiya in the quarters. Average physique for a Japanese middle schooler, but his playmaking genius was tops, rivaling high schoolers. Picture Haruto threading passes to Luka for finishes.
Hm, Haruto might struggle for a starting spot as a first-year. Luka could manage it, though. Either way, those two together? Japan's ultimate duo.
Too young to crack Shinomiya's deep bench right away, sure—but just imagining it lifted Fujimoto's spirits. Hell, they could be the next big high school duo: the Jeto Line, Jiho Line, Beang Line.
With those rosy thoughts, he rang the bell. A familiar middle-aged voice soon answered.
"Who is it?"
"Ah, it's Fujimoto from Shinomiya High. I mentioned I'd be stopping by."
A pause, then the gate swung open. There stood Tachibana Yuichi. Fujimoto's bliss faded into tension.
Middle school coach said they sent him elsewhere because Shinomiya Middle was too stacked for growth. Hope that's not happening again.
This wasn't Shinomiya's first shot at Luka. The kid had swept Japan's youth soccer scene since elementary, legend's son to boot. Shinomiya Middle had chased him too—but he'd gone elsewhere, citing the team being too dominant for real development. Luka had proven himself anyway, winning three straight at Seiran Middle, Tokyo's mid-tier powerhouse.
What if he ditched for the same reason again? Even after bonding months back, the worry gnawed.
"We've been expecting you, Mr. Fujimoto."
"Ah, right!"
Yuichi's bright smile eased things a bit. Who smiles like that if they're about to say no?
But Fujimoto overlooked one thing: even a legend and total pro like Yuichi was Japanese—polite to a fault, never blunt rejections to guests' faces.
Inside the guest room, Luka sat quietly, steam rising from a cup of tea that screamed luxury. Light greetings over sips led straight to business.
"So, if Tachibana Luka enrolls at our Shinomiya High, as I mentioned, the school would..."
Fancy tea, cheerful dad, Luka's vibe—all perfect. Fujimoto was certain. But he missed two crucial facts.
One: this "New Luka" had zero time for Japanese tatemae—hiding true feelings behind honne.
"Nah, pass."
"Exactly—Shinomiya has Japan's best soccer program, tons of pro alumni. You'd thrive there too... wait. What?"
"Why the hell would I?"
"Pardon? Well..."
And two: this Luka fused the original's innate arrogance with Kim Taehyun's—nation-adored genius turned scandal magnet, unbowed even in downfall. A monstrous hybrid.
"I'm not going. Boring as shit. Japan is."
"What do you—?!"
A student saying this? Fujimoto coached soccer but taught PE too—his duty to guide kids right. He raised his voice.
"Listen, at my age, other guys are pro debuting! Look at Fabregas—Arsenal at 16. You think I see you as less? You watched my games. Me vs. high schoolers? Child's play. Total mismatch."
What the—? Comparing himself to Fabregas, top youth prospect ever? But Fujimoto didn't know Luka's mind held Yamal too—Barcelona debut at 15, same age now. And Luka figured he stacked up, maybe better. In his Sporting prime, he'd outshone four-years-older Yamal in spots, per global hype.
No EU passport, barely 20, injury-riddled Barcelona stint ending his career—yet Newcastle paid big anyway. That was Kim Taehyun. And now? Way better body.
Fujimoto met Luka's eyes. This kid... dead serious. Believes he's that level. Tachibana, what kinda parenting? Half-foreign DNA? Tsk.
Japan prized humility—no way a local says this. Blame the foreign wife's genes. Probably idolized controversy-machines like Ronaldo.
Couldn't say that aloud. Time to pivot.
"Fine then, Tachibana. No deal on our promise."
"Promise?"
"If you join Shinomiya, we admit three of your middle school teammates too."
Updongi: sports rec admission where stars drag in weaker buddies. Shinomiya built dynasties this way. Sure, even updongi needed top-middle-school chops—but it opened doors impossible solo. In return, Shinomiya got elite talent yearly. Win-win: updongi kids escalator-ed to top uni sans exams.
Luka knew. Coach had let it slip; teammates hoped. Three years bonded—over a fifth of his life. Family time paled next to them. No team sport star ditches like that...
"Who the fuck are they?"
...huh?
"Eh?"
Shouldn't be possible.
"Fuckin' embarrassing. Should earn it fair. Those types bench abroad, can't hack cash on merit, so they rig matches. Gimme their names. Gonna bash some sense in."
Tragically, Fujimoto forgot: some alphas—MZ-plus—lived too self-assured for team guilt. This one? Zero fucks given.