Hyuga caught it. He stared at Tsubasa.
“That wasn’t a Drive Shot,” Hyuga said quietly. captain tsubasa aratanaru densetsu joshou iso
Ten years had passed since the last whistle of the last World Cup. Ten years since his body, a temple of muscle and will, had begun to whisper its betrayals. The Drive Shot that once tore nets now sent bolts of lightning through his aging knee. The Golden Duo with Misaki was now a long-distance phone call. Tsubasa had returned to Japan not as a hero returning from Europe, but as a fugitive—fleeing the one opponent he could never beat: time. Hyuga caught it