The hospital room was quiet, eerily so, as if the air itself had paused to listen. Jim's voice broke that silence with a single name, barely a whisper.
"Tim…"
The name hung in the air like a ghost, and Coach Tenjo, who had just stepped into the room, froze mid-step.
"You said Tim?" he asked, his voice unusually soft.
Alex turned to look at him. "Coach… you knew him?"
Tenjo's eyes darkened with memory as he slowly nodded. "Know him? I was his teammate. We weren't just partners—we were a deadly duo. People used to call us the Demon Brothers."
The revelation struck the room like thunder. Jim, Volt, and Alex stared, wide-eyed, as the coach—the strict, battle-hardened man they thought they knew—opened a window to a past none of them had imagined.
"His power," Tenjo continued, "was dangerous. Critics believed he was unstoppable. But it wasn't just raw talent that made him feared—it was because of his unique ability. A move called…"
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing.
"Sprite Mute."
Jim blinked. "Sprite Mute?"
Tenjo nodded slowly. "Yes. A terrifying move that allowed him to disable his opponent's special abilities. The moment it was used, their sprites would shut down. They'd become just ordinary players—no powers, no advantage. Just like you were, Jim… a month ago."
Alex leaned forward, interest gleaming in his eyes. "That sounds like a gift."
The coach sighed. "Yes… and no. It was a gift—but also a curse. He could only use it once every three days. That's why no one ever saw it during practice. He kept it hidden… even from us."
Jim frowned. "But once every three days doesn't sound that bad. Our matches are usually spaced out. Why was it a curse?"
Tenjo's expression turned grim. "In athletics, there's a saying: 'An athlete never ages. Age is just a number.' Do you know why people say that?"
Alex thought for a moment. "Because of training? Discipline?"
"Exactly," Tenjo said. "But that only works when your body isn't burning itself from the inside."
The room fell silent again, the tension thick as fog.
"You want to know why Tim retired at seventeen?" Tenjo asked, his voice heavy. "Why the brightest football star Japan ever produced vanished overnight?"
Jim looked up, his voice shaking. "You mean… his cancer?"
Tenjo nodded. "Stage-two lung cancer. And it wasn't due to smoking, or any bad habits. It was because of his sprite—Zerox, the Angel of Death."
Volt's jaw dropped. "Wait—his own sprite… killed him?"
Coach Tenjo's gaze fell to the floor. "Every time he used 'Sprite Mute,' Zerox drained his life force. Piece by piece. We didn't find out the truth until it was too late."
The revelation weighed down on everyone. Alex stared at the wall, disturbed. Jim looked crushed, his eyes swimming with confusion and grief. Even Volt, always the joker, was speechless.
Then, breaking the tension with forced humor, Volt blurted out, "Wait a sec, Coach! Why did you quit football then? Don't tell me your sprite eats people too!"
Coach gave a small, tired chuckle. "No… nothing like that."
He stepped forward, slower than usual, the limp in his leg more visible now. He sat down beside Jim's bed and pulled up the leg of his pants, revealing a thin surgical scar near his ankle.
"I quit because… after Tim's retirement, I was alone," he said quietly. "My role was to support him. I had the highest assist record in the league—543 assists. And 270 goals of my own."
Jim stared in awe. "You were a legend too…"
"We were perfect together," Tenjo whispered. "But after he left, I couldn't sync with any other striker. I tried, but the rhythm, the connection—it was gone. And then… during one of my final matches, I suffered this injury. The pain never left. Even now, some mornings… I can't walk properly."
He looked up at the boys—his students, his dream.
"That's why I opened this academy. Not to relive my glory days. But to build something new. To shape all of you into what I couldn't become."
Silence fell again, but this time, it wasn't heavy—it was respectful.
Jim, with tears welling in his eyes, sat up slightly. "Coach… thank you."
Tenjo nodded solemnly. "No need to thank me. Just make me proud. Go win the final—not just for yourselves… not just for the academy…"
He placed a firm hand on Jim's shoulder, his eyes locked with his.
"…But for the legacy of Tim—the Purple Demon."