Team Phoenix

As Karen and Marcel walked through the campus roads, the golden sky had started to turn pink, announcing the final hours of sun. The air still held the warmth of summer, but the breeze carried restlessness.

The paths seemed untouched, as if they’d been this way for decades. That was Solaris’s hallmark: a place frozen somewhere between glory and silence. While other universities thrived on evolution and technological advancements, Solaris thrived on its traditional soul. Not old, but timeless.

“So let me get this straight, Marcel. Dani invited you to coach the team, you said no, and now, refusing to take that answer, she’s sent me to drag you to the football fields to change your mind?”

“That’s what I’m reading from all of this,” replied Marcel.

Karen let out a soft, measured laugh, as if saying his intuition was on point.

“Well, that’s just what you’d expect from the captain. But hey, no pressure. If you really want to walk away, just do it. No hard feelings.”

“It’s alright. She’s right about something. I have nothing else to do right now, so at least I’ll let you show me around.”

Karen tucked her hands into her black skirt’s pockets as they walked, looked sideways at him, like she was carefully choosing her next question.

“Hmm~ So. Marcel. What’s your story?” asked Karen with curiosity as she led the way. “I get it with Dani, but I doubt Mari would give her approval for a total stranger to coach our beloved team.”

Marcel saw Karen asking with such a seemingly genuine smile, that he forgot for a moment how she had changed expressions a while ago. He couldn’t let his guard down. She was clearly collecting information. Probably double checking herself if she approved of Marcel.

“They’re interested in my history as someone who wins tournaments,” said Marcel with cold rationality. “I guess they think winning’s transferable.”

“Huh~ So you win tournaments…” replied Karen with a charming neutral face. “I wish I could say something cool like that… Football tournaments?”

“Fighting games,” replied Marcel with a subtle trace of vulnerable shame. “I also play other esports, but I haven’t won in any of those yet.”

“Oh?—so… video games?” Karen observed, letting out a minuscule trace of disappointment. But she caught herself quickly, returning to a soft grin. She quickly noticed how Marcel was getting flustered by the question. “That’s actually really cool, Marcel.”

He looked at her, skeptical. It was hard to tell if she really meant it or if it was just another practiced line.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am! I mean… you guys compete with your minds,” she said with a hint of fascination, pointing at her own head. “I bet you’re either really smart, or maybe have some insane reflexes.”

Marcel looked at Karen for just a moment with unspoken fascination as well. She actually seemed to get it.

“Thanks. I’m just good at studying game dynamics.”

“So you’re a strategist.”

“People have called me that before.”

They were halfway there. The buildings were starting to become smaller and the gardens of Solaris were signaling the start of the fields.

“In that case, who knows. You might actually be a good coach if you try, Marcel,” said Karen with a playful smirk. It was subtle, but she seemed to be repeating his name quite often. He couldn’t avoid thinking that Karen was somehow calculating every little interaction.

“I’m not fit for coaching, Karen. I’m not good with people.”

She took a small moment longer than expected to reply, as if observing him without any visible change in her expression. She probably had noticed he had used her name to mirror her.

“Why?”

Marcel was genuinely caught off guard by the question. It was simple, almost obvious, but he’d never actually stopped to ask himself why he believed he wasn’t good with people. It was something he just assumed about himself.

“It’s not like I dislike people.”

Marcel paused, realizing he hadn’t talked about this out loud in a long time. It felt strangely easy with Karen.

“Then… are you afraid of people?” asked Karen as if trying to figure out his personality not out of his answer but from his reaction.

“Huh. Afraid?” asked Marcel to himself with real curiosity. “Am I?”

Karen looked at Marcel interested in how he was handling the uncomfortable question.

“You don’t seem like it,” observed Karen.

“I don’t think I’m afraid. I guess I’m just more comfortable being by myself.”

“Ohh~ So you’re a lone wolf!” said Karen in a playful tone, “Jokes aside, you do have that kind of aura floating around you.”

“Eh? Aura?”

“I mean, you just have that… silent personality, you know?” seamlessly corrected Karen to adapt to Marcel’s more concrete communication style. She was no longer using his name as often. “So, are you still competing? Any plans for the future?"

Marcel knew his answer would give her the upper hand if they had to negotiate, but he had no way to avoid this question without sounding rude or outright lying.

“Nope, I just retired, and I haven’t found anything worth pursuing yet.”

Marcel and Karen kept talking for a while. She guided the conversation so that he would tell her more about his recent victories, his vision of what it took to win at strategic action games, and how his success had seemed to catch Dani’s interest.

“Three times national champion… Wow, I’m actually with a celebrity right now. Can I call my mom?” joked Karen. “You think I’ll get any fans by walking next to you?”

“It’s not a big deal really.”

“Yes it is. In Team Phoenix we’re struggling to even enter the qualifiers. We’re THAT low… So don’t say winning a national isn’t meaningful.”

“So you’re basically not qualifying to be a team?”

“yup… pretty much.”

Karen and Marcel arrived at the football field after crossing a wall of tall trees.

It was a large pitch, surrounded by scattered trees that cast faint, broken shadows across the grass. A track field also neighbored the pitch, as well as an old looking storehouse.

The sky had deepened into soft pinks and oranges, and the grass, bathed in the sunset, glowed like pale gold.

The space felt wide. Quiet. Almost magical in its loneliness.

They stood at the sidelines for a moment, saying nothing.

“To be honest,” Karen began, stepping forward with her hands in her pockets, “it’s not something I care about too much.”

Her voice was light, but her pace slowed as she crossed onto the edge of the field.

“But for some of our teammates, this team means everything.”

Marcel watched her carefully, sensing that there was more behind the casual tone.

“Team Phoenix used to be legendary, you know,” Karen continued. “You’ve heard about Solaris FC, right?”

“Of course. It’s kind of hard to miss the stadium in the middle of the city.”

Karen smiled faintly. “This is where they played. Before they became an independent club, this was their home turf. Some world-class players walked these grounds a few decades ago.”

She let the silence linger, as if waiting for him to picture it.

“It’s kind of sad, when you think about it,” she added softly. “All that history, slowly fading out.”

Marcel listened, not sure yet why she was telling him this, but the story didn’t feel fake. He believed her.

“Why is the team in such a state?” he asked.

Karen glanced at him over her shoulder. “The team had been in a slow decline for years now. But last season, we had some real problems. Infighting. Differences between teammates that got out of hand. We lost our coach. Lost some of our players, too.”

She paused. Her voice didn’t shake, but there was weight there.

“We even made a scene in front of everyone during our last official match.”

Marcel stayed silent, giving her the space to continue.

“We’ve searched everywhere. But the autumn qualifiers are coming up in about a month. We don’t have enough members. And we still don’t have a coach.”

“So what you’re saying,” Marcel observed, narrowing his eyes slightly, “is that you’ll take anything. As long as it gets you back in the competition.”

Karen stopped moving. For a moment, her expression was unreadable. Then she laughed softly, somewhere between amused and honest.

“You’re not wrong,” she said, turning to him with a gentle grin. “If we had more traditional options, we wouldn’t be asking you.”

She let the honesty hang there for a moment.

“But maybe that’s exactly why you might be what we need.”

“All of this makes a lot more sense now,” Marcel said, a hint of relief slipping into his voice. “But I still don’t think I can actually guide a football team as a coach.”

“Well. If that’s the case,” Karen began, her tone softening into negotiation, “you could at least be our coach on paper.”

She tucked her hands into her pockets and kept her gaze steady. “To be completely honest, we just need someone to fill the space. If you only showed up during our matches, you would be making us a huge favor.”

Her smile faltered, just for a second.

“It’s not ideal, but at least we could keep the team moving. None of us wants to leave Solaris being the generation that let the legend die, you know?”

The soft late-summer wind slipped between them, rustling the grass and brushing the edges of the field.

Marcel stayed silent.

His fists tightened slightly.

His gaze, sharp but distant, fixed on something only he could see.

There was weight in her words.

Not just in what she said, but in the way she looked at him when she said it.

It felt strangely like a mirror he had avoided looking into.

Letting a legacy die.

He knew what that felt like.

He’d seen it happen. He’d watched someone pour their heart into building something, only for it to vanish without a trace.

He could have helped. But he didn’t.

And when it was gone, the silence it left behind felt heavier than he ever expected.

Maybe this time, he could do things differently.

The pieces were all on the table.

Did he really have a reason to say no?

He’d just retired from esports.

He had time.

His skills, his way of thinking, might actually mean something to someone else.

At least Dani, Mari, and now Karen seemed to think so.

And deep down, he was curious. Curious to see if what he had built could matter in a place so far from his world.

His mind drifted back to what Rita had told him that morning:
When I get stuck with writing, the thing that helps me the most is doing something completely different.

There was only one thing left to decide.

“I won’t do that,” Marcel said, his voice steady.

Karen’s smile wavered into something faint, almost sad. Her eyes said it before her words could:
Yeah… I figured. But it was worth a shot.

But before she could speak, Marcel continued.

“If I agree to something, the least I can do is to do it well.”

Karen blinked, caught off guard.

“I only have one condition.”

Her eyes widened slightly, just enough to reveal her surprise.

“W-what is it?”

“I’ll be Team Phoenix’s coach,” Marcel said, “but only until you find someone who’s actually qualified. So keep looking. But until then, I’ll cover the role to the best of my ability.”

Karen’s lips parted, a slow smile spreading across her face. This time, not practiced or polished, just real.

“Deal.”