Who would've thought that Itoshi Sae—the guy playing for Real Madrid's youth team who earned the highest title a prospect can get by being named to the New Generation World Best Eleven—would remember someone he only briefly ran into a few times during one semester of freshman year middle school? Hell, we weren't even in the same class. Adjacent classes. The popular soccer genius with an attitude. Not exactly Mr. Personality, but always in the spotlight. That's all he was to me. And yet.

A friend suggested I go watch Real Madrid U-20's match during their tour in Japan. Obviously, my friend hooked me up with the ticket. When I got to the stadium in Tokyo, the lobby was predictably covered in player photos, posters, and merch. Among them all, Itoshi Sae clearly stood out. Look at you now, damn. You won't remember me, but I sure as hell remember you.

The match was genuinely incredible. Itoshi Sae, who I was seeing for the first time in 4 years, had gotten ridiculously tall, looked sharp as hell, and still had that same stone-cold expression. How do you score a goal and just stand there like nothing happened? ...Whatever. His soccer skills were absolutely insane. He showed off those incredible abilities, living up to his reputation as a genius prospect on the New Generation World Best Eleven.

After the match ended. As people started filing out of the stadium, my friend and I wandered around the venue a bit more when exhaustion suddenly hit me like a truck. Rubbing my eyes, I started walking toward the exit.

Now, here's where things got interesting.

The path I was taking happened to lead toward the players' entrance.

And my friend called out my name loud as hell, telling me to hurry up.

Itoshi Sae heard it, recognized me, and just walked over to talk to me. Just like that. On his way out.