Madoka Ishikawa

Everyone's journey to football begins differently. Some fall in love with the sport as if it were destiny; others simply stumble onto its path without realizing it.

But for Madoka Ishikawa, it was simply a coincidence.

She was just eight years old back then, sleepily nodding off in her father's arms as the television blared with the sounds of horns and cheering crowds. Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, she caught a glimpse of the ball rolling across the pitch, followed by the eruption of the stadium as flags of red-white-blue flashed on the screen.

And it roared in her heart with a language she could not yet vocalize:

This was football.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Madoka woke with a start, completely jolting out of bed and rolling off the bed with a thud as she hit the floor with a groan. Her hand scrambled onto the bed as she wiggled around for her phone to turn off the alarm with a swipe of her fingers.

Silence.

"...why did I dream of that...that was so cringe," she groaned

Madoka pushed herself up and stretched her shoulders until they cracked. Then she glanced toward the window.

Hanamura was already awake.

Beyond the glass sat a quiet row of houses, some old enough to have weathered dark roof tiles, others newer and brighter, packed together beneath a web of overhead power lines. A bicycle leaned against a wall. Somewhere nearby, a sliding door opened, followed by the faint clatter of someone setting out for the morning.

Further beyond the houses, the green hills stood over the town.

It was quiet.

It only hit her then: She was no longer in Tokyo.

She looked outside again, as if doing so might somehow transform the sleepy town into the towering buildings and crowded streets of her former home, but it was still just the same old Hanamura.

"Oh right..."

She had only been here for a few weeks, and already the town felt strangely familiar.

Maybe because she'd done this before.

New house.

New school.

New neighborhood.

Her father's job had a habit of making those words come around every few years. Madoka had lost count of how many times she'd packed her belongings into cardboard boxes, watched another familiar street disappear behind the car window, and learned the quickest route to the nearest convenience store.

First it was Osaka, then Kanazawa, then a brief year in Sapporo (that year felt horrible, Madoka had struggled so hard to make friends there, only to have them taken away from her before she'd even gotten the chance to properly settle in) and finally, they settled down at Hanamura.

Perhaps if it had been three years ago, she would have been angry at her father, and mother for going with it, for moving around so much and settling at such a small-scale town, but now, she hardly minded. Partly because Hanamura was a charming little place, but also because...

"I finally get to play football!"

Madoka cheered, gleefully running down the hall with her long apple-red hair flowing behind her as she marched into the bathroom.

She brushed her teeth, washed her face, hurried back to her room, and dabbed on just enough makeup to make herself look presentable.

First day of high school.

She had to look good.

Now that they had settled down for the foreseeable future, Madoka had been enrolled in Hanamura High School.

Hanamura High School was nothing special, really. Just an ordinary school, the kind of place you could probably find anywhere in Japan.

Then again, Hanamura only had one high school.

Everyone went there.

Seriously, she had heard it was harder to find a Hanamura native who hadn't gone to Hanamura High School.

Apparently, it had been around since 1948.

But the thing that mattered most to her was that Hanamura High School had a girls' football team.

And even if it was the last thing she ever did, Madoka MUST join the team.

"Madokaaaa, are you coming down yet? You're going to be late!"

Her mother's voice called from downstairs.

"C-Coming...!"

Madoka hurriedly threw on her blazer and backpack, then flattened her skirt one last time before rushing out the door.

But before she could leave, she took one last look at the worn leather ball resting at the foot of her bed.

She seriously considered bringing it to school.

But beneath all the hype thumping in her chest, her minuscule social side whispered:

"What if they think you're being extra?"

"...I hate how right you sound."

She grumbled and ran out the door.

Bonk.

She stubbed her toe on one of the cardboard boxes she still hadn't unpacked.

She walked down the stairs so fast it was as though she was running, even taking a tiny hop down the last two steps before turning into the kitchen-dining-everything room where her mother and father were.

Her mother looked up from the kitchen counter. Madoka had inherited her red hair from her, though her mother's was cut much shorter and framed her face in a softer, tidier way.

"Good morning, sweetheart, did you sleep well?"

As if she'd already anticipated her daughter's arrival, the matronly woman placed down a piece of toast with egg that Madoka could eat on the go along with a cup of orange juice. Dad, however, was reading the news on his phone while also enjoying his full Japanese breakfast of rice-egg-fish-miso soup (Madoka could never understand how her mother had enough energy to wake up so early every morning to make breakfast).

"Good morning, little champ, are you excited for your first day of school? Do you need me to give you a drive?"

Madoka groaned. "Daaad, that's so...embarrassing! Stop calling me 'little champ'!"

Her dad, the audacity of him, laughed at her face!

"I think it's really cool! Remember when you were 10, you kept telling me how you would 'win the World Cup for Ja-"

"Aaaahhhh! Don't say it so early in the morning!" She waved her hands frantically as if waving off an invisible speech bubble. "T-that was young Madoka!"

Her mother sat down with her own breakfast.

"Said the little girl who still wears the same hairstyle since primary school."

Madoka reached up and touched her twin red buns the size of apples on her head as if she was defensive about them, shaking her long hair around.

"What's wrong with my hair! Oh that's it, no one in this house loves me anymore! I'm heading to school!" She hastily gobbled up the toast and downed the rest of the juice cup before running out to the halls again.

She heard dad's voice calling after her.

"Take care of yourself! Have fun at school, Madoka!"

And brightly, more brightly than a girl who had just claimed to be upset with her family had any right to be, she called back:

"Thanks, dad! I will! Take care at work!"

The door closed behind her. Madoka took out her trusty red bike from the shed nearby, whispering a quiet "hello" to the family dog, a Shiba named Pan-chan. Young Madoka had named him that because she thought he looked like a loaf of bread.

Then she was on her way.

The streets of Hanamura at seven in the morning were cool with the April breeze, tickling Madoka's cheeks as she cycled through the sleepy town. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. Morning birds chirped from the trees.

And, of course, Hanamura's cherry blossoms were in full bloom, painting the pale morning sky in a brilliant shade of pink.

It was a scenic morning, almost like something out of a novel.

She passed a little traditional home with tiled roofs, where a granny was watering her plants.

Madoka gave her a little nod.

The granny smiled and waved back.

And Madoka went on her way.

The houses gradually became closer together as Madoka cycled further into town.

The quiet of the residential streets began to fade.

A metal shutter rattled open somewhere ahead.

Then another.

A delivery truck was parked outside a small grocery store, its driver carrying crates through the entrance while an elderly man swept the pavement nearby. A bakery had already opened, sending the warm smell of bread drifting onto the street.

Madoka slowed down slightly.

This was Hanamura's shopping street.

It wasn't particularly busy. Not yet, anyway.

Some shops were still shuttered, their faded signs hanging above the entrances. Others were already preparing for the morning, with bicycles parked outside and shopkeepers setting things out onto the pavement.

The street had clearly been here for a long time.

But not everything looked old.

Between the weathered storefronts sat a newer café, a convenience store, and a few bright signs that looked like they had been put up only within the last few years. She caught sight of a butcher shop simply named 'Akikawa Butchery' which was stuck in the middle of being worn and old and half-renovated at the same time like it was in sort of 'shop limbo'.

Old Hanamura and new Hanamura seemed to have simply...decided to share the same street.

As she went further and further near the school, the streets turned to asphalt. Cars were now moving down the roads with people buzzing around her; a glance at the nearby street clock told her it was 7:45, which meant the streets had already woken up.

She spotted a few students in Hanamura High uniforms walking together, chatting about something she couldn't hear. She didn't recognize any of them. But just seeing them put a strange amount of energy into her.

"I can't wait to get to school!"

She said to herself, and no one in particular. Right from the main road, then left again, then head straight down, more teenagers appeared: on the sidewalks, on the roads with her and even on cars driven by their parents.

Hanamura High itself stood out like a sore thumb, but not because it was gaudy or flashy...if anything, Madoka thought it was rather mundane and cute. But it was because the crowd of students, whether new or not, was unmissable along with decorations, balloons and the rain of cherry blossom petals on everyone.

Madoka stopped her bike just short of the gate, and her heart swelled with something that could not be named.

She took in a deep breath.

"Here goes nothing...!"

Do your best, Madoka Ishikawa!!!