Post by silverskywolf37 on Feb 1, 2018 20:52:33 GMT
Word count: 523
“Pass, please!”
Conan sent the ball towards Mitsuhiko who dribbled forwards, quickly passing it between each of his feet while he ran. Once he was far enough ahead he passed it back, stoping right in front of Conan’s feet as he right sprinted forwards.
The detective boys were getting better at football. The first few times that they’d played it had been a nighmare, the kids stumbling around, clumsily tapping the ball towrds places no where near anyone who could recive it.
Now they moved as one, as a unit, and were quite frankly some of the best six year olds (who were actually six) Conan knew, at playing football.
To be fair, Conan didn’t know many six year olds, besides the ones in his class, but there was no doubt that they had improved drastically.
His obsession with the sport and Haibara’s crush on Higo Ryusuke, leading to many lengthy games, were most likely at least partially responsible.
Conan swerved past Ayumi, skidded past Haibara, before bringing his foot back, preparing to shoot.
Suddenly he was back.
It was no longer Mitsuhiko who was behind him, cheering him on, it was Nakamichi and the rest of Teitan High School’s football team; it wasn’t Ayumi and Haibara, trying to stop him from shooting, it was skilled defenders, ones who he’d researched extensively before the game, scouting their schools in his free time, doing anything to get a tiny advantage.
The grass was a luscious green, green like the seats in the stadium.
The goal keeper was huge, leaving Shinichi very few areas left to aim for, but Shinichi would score.
He knew he would. His teammates were cheering him on; the school was cheering him on.
Shinchi took the shot, aiming the ball towrds a small gap in the goalies defence.
Conan fell face first into thick mud. It wasn’t thick, luscious, bright, green grass, just waterlogged dirt in an empty park. No one was cheering him on.
The others weren’t opposing high school teams, weren’t his team, weren’t Nakamichi.
The huge goalkeeper was just Genta.
The detective boys were laughing at him now, quickly chuckling, something that he knew had no ill will but it didn’t make him feel any less pathetic.
He’d misjudged his body weight, put too much force into his kick, he hadn’t thought about the fact that he was smaller, hadn’t thought about his balance.
“Does that mean that we’ve won?”
Conan looked up, face still caked in mud, to see that it was Mitsuhiko who had spoken, the young boy’s eyes shone and he was holding back a grin.
“Yeah it does,” Haibara replied.
Ayumi pouted. “It’s not fair, you had Conan-kun.”
“That’s not true,” Conan found himself saying, “If Mitsuhiko hadn’t passed to me when he did I don’t know if I would have made the shot.”
Genta caught up to them, panting. “That was some goal you scored Conan.”
Haibara offered him her hand. “You look ridiculous, it was a nice goal though.”
Conan grabbed her hand and, as Haibara pulled him up, realised that maybe he did have people cheering for him after all.
“Pass, please!”
Conan sent the ball towards Mitsuhiko who dribbled forwards, quickly passing it between each of his feet while he ran. Once he was far enough ahead he passed it back, stoping right in front of Conan’s feet as he right sprinted forwards.
The detective boys were getting better at football. The first few times that they’d played it had been a nighmare, the kids stumbling around, clumsily tapping the ball towrds places no where near anyone who could recive it.
Now they moved as one, as a unit, and were quite frankly some of the best six year olds (who were actually six) Conan knew, at playing football.
To be fair, Conan didn’t know many six year olds, besides the ones in his class, but there was no doubt that they had improved drastically.
His obsession with the sport and Haibara’s crush on Higo Ryusuke, leading to many lengthy games, were most likely at least partially responsible.
Conan swerved past Ayumi, skidded past Haibara, before bringing his foot back, preparing to shoot.
Suddenly he was back.
It was no longer Mitsuhiko who was behind him, cheering him on, it was Nakamichi and the rest of Teitan High School’s football team; it wasn’t Ayumi and Haibara, trying to stop him from shooting, it was skilled defenders, ones who he’d researched extensively before the game, scouting their schools in his free time, doing anything to get a tiny advantage.
The grass was a luscious green, green like the seats in the stadium.
The goal keeper was huge, leaving Shinichi very few areas left to aim for, but Shinichi would score.
He knew he would. His teammates were cheering him on; the school was cheering him on.
Shinchi took the shot, aiming the ball towrds a small gap in the goalies defence.
Conan fell face first into thick mud. It wasn’t thick, luscious, bright, green grass, just waterlogged dirt in an empty park. No one was cheering him on.
The others weren’t opposing high school teams, weren’t his team, weren’t Nakamichi.
The huge goalkeeper was just Genta.
The detective boys were laughing at him now, quickly chuckling, something that he knew had no ill will but it didn’t make him feel any less pathetic.
He’d misjudged his body weight, put too much force into his kick, he hadn’t thought about the fact that he was smaller, hadn’t thought about his balance.
“Does that mean that we’ve won?”
Conan looked up, face still caked in mud, to see that it was Mitsuhiko who had spoken, the young boy’s eyes shone and he was holding back a grin.
“Yeah it does,” Haibara replied.
Ayumi pouted. “It’s not fair, you had Conan-kun.”
“That’s not true,” Conan found himself saying, “If Mitsuhiko hadn’t passed to me when he did I don’t know if I would have made the shot.”
Genta caught up to them, panting. “That was some goal you scored Conan.”
Haibara offered him her hand. “You look ridiculous, it was a nice goal though.”
Conan grabbed her hand and, as Haibara pulled him up, realised that maybe he did have people cheering for him after all.