I. An Invitation from the "Bastard" Star
The afternoon sun hung low over Tenkai, painting long shadows across the schoolyard as Isagi Yoichi packed away his textbooks. His mind, however, was far from geometry proofs or vocabulary lists—it lingered on the day's earlier surprise. A sleek black SUV had rolled up to their modest apartment block, bearing the crest of Bastard München across its doors. Out stepped Noel Noa himself—Germany's top-ranked striker, legend of the Neo-Egoist League, and living embodiment of the "Bastard" ethos.
Noel's visit to Japan was part goodwill tour, part talent scout mission—but when he'd watched the live feed of Joshua's game in the Phoenix Cup, he knew instantly that this was someone special. Through Coach Hayato's contacts at Genji Eagles, Noel had tracked them to Tenkai. As Noel approached, his posture relaxed but his gaze drilled into Joshua with the scrutiny of a hunter.
"Joshua Yoichi," he rumbled in accented Japanese that nevertheless carried perfect clarity, "you have promise on the pitch that few can match. And you—" he turned to Isagi, "—your tactical mind intrigues me. I'd like to see more."
Joshua's heart pounded. Noel Noa standing before him was like a dream—an idol who scored at will even in the fiercest derbies. Yet here he was, offering an invitation: an all-expenses-paid trial with Bastard München's youth setup in Munich, where Joshua would join Noel on the same team. And just as importantly, he insisted—Isagi was to come, too. "No mastermind left behind," Noel said with a half-smile.
That evening, over steaming bowls of ramen in their tiny kitchen, Joshua and Isagi stared at the formal papers Noel's aide had delivered: travel visas, lodging arrangements in Munich, trial schedules at the Säbener Straße training complex. "Brothers," Joshua whispered, "we're doing this together."
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II. Farewells and New Beginnings
The week that followed was a whirlwind. News spread through Tenkai's streets: "The Yoichi twins are going to Europe!" Neighbors brought little good-luck charms; former coaches offered last-minute drills. Joshua balanced his packing list—cleats, shinguards, Genji Eagles kit for practice matches—against Isagi's arsenal of notebooks filled with formations, opponent analyses, and psychological profiles of Munich's youth players.
On departure day, the two brothers boarded a red-tailed jet bound for Munich. Noel Noa saw them off personally, his presence a fortress of confidence. "Remember," he told Joshua as they shook hands in the jet's foyer, "strength is forged in fire. You'll face that here—but never forget who you are." To Isagi he added, "Your mind will keep Joshua alive out there. Don't hold back."
As the plane climbed into the sky, Joshua peered through the window at Tenkai's patchwork of rooftops shrinking below. Beside him, Isagi scribbled final notes on Bavaria's preferred formations and scouting reports on Bastard's senior players. They exchanged a determined glance: together, they would conquer this new world.
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III. Munich: City of Champions
Emerging from the airport into a crisp Bavarian morning, the brothers were met by Noel's driver, who whisked them through tree-lined avenues to Säbener Straße—the beating heart of Bayern's training grounds, home now also to Bastard München. The complex was a fortress of glass and steel, with nine immaculate pitches and dormitories built like minimalist lodges.
Joshua's first sight of the "Training Plaza" left him breathless: statues of Bastard legends lined the walkway, and flags bearing the club's black-and-red eagle crest fluttered in the breeze. Noel escorted them to the Rōnin dormitory—a quarter shared with eleven other trialists and junior squad members. Here, Joshua would live, train, eat, and sleep for the next month.
That evening, the brothers attended their first team dinner in the grand canteen. Around them sat players who'd already represented Bastard in international friendlies—strikers with ruthless grins, midfielders with quiet intensity, defenders whose scars spoke of past battles. Joshua felt the weight of their stares but tightened his resolve. Isagi, ever the observer, catalogued every conversation, noting accents, word choices, and even dining habits.
After dinner, Noel Noa reappeared—outsized in his stature but genial in his greeting. He guided them to a balcony overlooking the pitches. "Tomorrow, Joshua, you wear number 27 in the first trial," he said. "Isagi, you have a seat in the analysis box. Watch every drill, record every pattern. Afterward, we talk."
As they settled into their new rooms that night, the echo of chanting crowds from a distant stadium seeped through the windows. Sleep came fitfully, each brother dreaming of crosses whipped into penalty areas and strategies plotted on whiteboards.
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IV. The Trial: Day One
A. Morning Warm-Up
Dawn brought a chill that bit at Joshua's cheeks as he jogged onto Pitch 5, gazing at the red-pillared goalposts and the water-sprinkled grass. Coach Richter—a veteran Bastard academy coach known for ruthless honesty—blew his whistle. "Huddle up," he barked. "We start with rounds: 400 meters x 4. Fast pace. Then ball mastery—two-touch rondos under pressure."
Joshua's lungs seized on the first lap. He'd never run that fast for that long—but he forced his legs to obey. After the laps, back in the circle of cone-lined turf, the rondos began: six attackers against three defenders. Joshua's ink-black ponytail whipped as he placed one-touch passes so tight that defenders could only watch the ball slip by.
From the analysis box above, Isagi leaned forward, tapping notes into his tablet: "Round 1: spread too wide—consolidate. Rondo #2: pass angle 12°, risk defender interception. Suggest 18° upper arc."
B. Tactical Drills
Mid-morning brought positional work: 5v5 in a 40 × 25 meter box, where Joshua was assigned as inside forward. The aim was quick transitions—attack on win, regroup on loss. He found himself matched against Emil Kaiser, a local Munich youth who'd grown up in the Bastard system since age 8. Kaiser was compact, explosive, and played with a grin that said he knew this turf better than Joshua ever would.
The ball pinged back and forth. Joshua tried feints he'd perfected under Isagi's tutelage—stepovers he used rarely, body swerves timed to the nth degree. But Kaiser read him like an open book, intercepting a pass and racing downfield in a blur of crimson-trimmed black. Joshua chased, harried him into a mistake, and begrudgingly admired the local's tenacity.
After half an hour, Coach Richter called a halt. "Promising, Yoichi, but Munich's roast is not on your plate yet," he growled, eyes sharp. "Understand the tempo here. Learn, or you sink."
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V. Brother Against Brother (Kind Of)
At lunchtime, the dormitory canteen buzzed with chatter in German, English, and a smattering of Japanese among other trialists. Joshua grabbed a tray of chicken and rice; Isagi joined him with a stack of notebooks. Joshua sank into a seat opposite Kaiser, who offered a nod of greeting.
"You're… Japan?" Kaiser asked, switching to English. He had the accent of a boy who'd watched Premier League matches dubbed in German.
"Yes," Joshua replied, voice steady. "Yoichi. Joshua Yoichi."
"Kaiser Müller," the boy answered, holding out a hand. "You're fast. Can't wait to see you in the scrimmage."
Joshua shook it. "Thanks—looking forward to it."
Isagi slid across, peering at Kaiser's notes—handwritten drills, a mini-glossary mixing Deutsch, English, and simplified Japanese: "Flügelstürmer = winger; Spielaufbau = build-up." He smiled, extending a notebook filled with his own annotations. "I can help translate tactics," he offered.
Kaiser's eyes lit up. "Great! Let's study together. Walk me through your world cup pressing patterns."
Over curry and salad, the three bonded over football diagrams and manga references. Joshua realized that rivalries were simply respect in disguise, and Isagi found a kindred spirit in Kaiser's obsessive note-taking. By the end, they'd arranged afternoon study sessions—and Joshua felt less a lone stranger than a comrade in arms.
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VI. Afternoon Scrimmage: Earning Your Wings
A. Warm-Down
After lunch, the teams reconvened on Pitch 3 for a full 11v11 scrimmage. Noel Noa himself watched from midfield, arms folded, taking mental inventory of every player. Joshua wore the blue trial vest; Kaiser the red. Isagi and a handful of analysts peered down from a scaffolded box, calling out instructions through headsets.
The whistle blew, and the match erupted. Joshua took up his winger's role: hugging the touchline, sprinting past full-backs, cutting inside to link with midfield. The pace was ferocious—passes had to be perfect, first touches had to be sharper than ever. Noel sprinted alongside as a neutral observer, occasionally issuing gruff praise: "Better, but watch the trigger."
B. The Moment of Truth
Mid-second half, Bastard München's coaches called for a set-play. Five defenders formed a wall; Joshua was told to curl one around them. His heart thundered as he placed the ball. He replayed Isagi's adjustment in his head—the two-degree inward plant, the hip twist, the follow-through arc. He kicked.
The ball sailed in a perfect parabola, kissed the far post, and nestled in the net. For a heartbeat the pitch fell silent—then roar and applause as even opposing players clapped.
Noel Noa grinned wide. "That's the fire I want!" he shouted. Coach Richter lowered his clipboard in approval.
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VII. Nightfall Confessions
That night in the dormitory, Joshua and Kaiser sat on the balcony, looking over the illuminated pitches. A thin breeze carried the scent of freshly mown grass and promise.
"You did well today," Kaiser said quietly. "Munich doesn't forgive mistakes easily."
Joshua exhaled. "I learned from the best—him," he nodded toward the dorm windows where Noel's silhouette was visible. "And from my brother, back home."
Kaiser smiled. "Back home? You mean the Isagi guy?"
Joshua reached inside his pocket, producing the soapstone angel Isagi had carved. He handed it to Kaiser. "He's never far. Keeps me sharp."
Kaiser traced the carving's wings. "Family's important everywhere."
They fell into companionable silence, two competitors bound by shared adversity.
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VIII. Bonds Forged in Battle
The next morning, Isagi joined Joshua and Kaiser for their tactical briefing. Together they pored over footage of yesterday's scrimmage, isolating Joshua's runs and Kaiser's defensive shifts. Noel Noa appeared on the projection screen—his legendary goals reminding them that greatness lay ahead if they could master both body and mind.
When the session ended, Noel stepped forward. "Kaiser, Yoichi—you rise faster than expected. I'm extending your trial another month. Show me consistency. And Isagi"—he turned to the boy in the analysis box—"you're coming with us to the AWAY leg at Dortmund. I want your insights on the road."
Isagi's eyes widened. A chance to see German football at its fiercest—another step beyond.
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IX. Home Is Where the Heart Is
As the trio walked back to the dormitory that evening, the sun setting behind the Bavarian Alps, Joshua felt the weight of every mile he'd traveled from Tenkai. Yet with Isagi at his side—now woven into this new life—and Kaiser as a brother in arms, he realized that distance meant nothing. Bonds born in rain-soaked pitches or under Munich's floodlights were no less real.
They passed the Training Plaza statues, their shadows stretching long on the cobblestones. Noel Noa's voice drifted behind them: "Tomorrow, we fly to Dortmund. Prepare yourselves."
Joshua looked at Isagi, who gave a confident nod. Then at Kaiser, whose grin was fierce with anticipation. Together, they stepped into the glow of the stadium lights—a trio of brothers, ready to conquer every challenge, side by side.
End of Chapter 2