Chapter Six | A Date at the Match

☆☆

Sasaki, sitting on the bed, takes the ticket with her mouth agape.

“Makijima… you’re inviting me? Why?”

“Why? Not really a specific reason… if you don’t want to, no pressure.”

“I-I’ll go! I’m free tomorrow anyway!”

Sasaki answers eagerly.

Is Sasaki secretly a soccer fan?

Or maybe she got hooked watching today’s match?

…Well, either way, doesn’t matter.

“So, is this a pro match?”

Sasaki tilts her head, eyeing the ticket.

Here we go…

Sigh…

“It’s not my fault if I don’t know!”

I let out a sigh, and Sasaki raises her voice.

“Come on, explain it so I can understand!”

“Explain…? Uh, there’s a pro soccer league in Japan called the N League, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of that one.”

“The top tier is the N1 League, and tomorrow we’re watching a match from Tokyo Frontier, part of that league.”

“Tokyo Frontier… Do you like that team, Makijima?”

“Yeah. I’m from Yamanashi originally, but I’ve been a Tokyo Frontier fan for a long time.”

I even picked Tokyo Frontier’s Jr. Youth team over my local Yamanashi affiliate, that’s how much I loved them.

But after failing to move up from Jr. Youth to the Youth team, I ended up at Toyama’s prestigious private school, Seijin Academy High, on a sports scholarship.

“Come to think of it, Aihara said she likes Tokyo Frontier too.”

“…So if I’d said no, were you gonna invite Aihara?”

“Nah? If you couldn’t make it, I was just gonna give the extra ticket to someone from the soccer team.”

Aihara seems like a die-hard Tokyo Frontier supporter—probably has a season ticket and hangs out in the hardcore goal-end section, so she might not care about SS seats.

“Something wrong with that?”

“N-Nothing~?”

“What’s with that smug grin?”

“I’m not grinning!”

Sasaki hops off the bed, carefully tucking the ticket into her wallet.

“If the match is in the afternoon, I’ll head home for now tomorrow. Let’s both get ready and meet up somewhere?”

“Got it. How about meeting at the station in front of the university?”

“Yeah!”

I’m relieved to see Sasaki in such high spirits—more than I expected.

With tomorrow’s plans set, we start getting ready for bed.

“First things first, sleeping arrangements… Sasaki, you take the bed.”

Before I can finish, Sasaki’s already spreading out her cosmetics and mirror on the bed.

“Huh? I can have the bed?”

“You totally planned that from the start, didn’t you? Don’t you know what ‘polite refusal’ means?”

“Well, I figured Makijima would let me have it~”

“Geez, you…”

Fine, whatever. I pull out the futon Azaki uses when he stays over and spread it out.

“I’ll sleep on this futon. Just don’t roll off the bed with your bad sleeping habits.”

“Oh? Saying that so deliberately—don’t you secretly want me to fall on you?”

“Not even close. What if I get another concussion from that?”

Sasaki says “Hmph” and keeps grinning smugly.

It’s getting on my nerves. Maybe I should call a taxi and send her home?

“Hey, Makijima. Got a new toothbrush?”

“Toothbrush?”

“Yeah, I forgot to buy a new one after tossing my travel one last time.”

“There should be a new one by the sink.”

I head to the sink with Sasaki and hand her a brand-new toothbrush from the shelf.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, thanks!”

Since I’m here, I squeeze toothpaste onto my toothbrush and pass it to Sasaki.

“It might be a bit spicy—okay with that?”

“Don’t mind, I’m good!”

We naturally line up at the sink, brushing our teeth together.

This just happened out of the flow, but… it feels kinda couple-like.

Glancing at Sasaki in the mirror, I notice she’s looking back at me through it.

Our eyes meet, and I quickly look away, but she keeps staring.

(What’s with that?)

(Wondering why we’re brushing our teeth together…)

“…”

“…”

The air gets awkwardly tingly, and I can’t take it anymore. I finish brushing, rinse, and dive into the futon.

Sasaki follows me back to the room.

“Makijima, going to sleep already?”

“Y-Yeah, sleep!”

“Aw, it’s a rare sleepover—let’s talk a bit more!”

“This isn’t a girls’ night out… or anything!”

Sasaki hugs a pillow while sitting on the bed, looking down at me lying in the futon.

Her bare legs brush against my arm, and the oversized T-shirt’s sleeve slips, giving a fleeting glimpse of her side.

“Don’t you have anything you want to ask me?”

“S-Something I want to ask…?”

“I’ll answer anything right now!”

Something I want to ask Sasaki…

Throwing that out of the blue, I can’t think of anything.

“W-Well… like, your first love, maybe?”

“First love?!”

“What’s with that? You said anything’s fine, right? You’re not gonna back out now, are you?”

“Mmph…”

Sasaki buries her face in the pillow she’s holding.

Heh. Even the great Sasaki’s stumped by love talk—

“When I was around high school age…”

“You’re actually telling me?!”

“Huh? But you wanted to know, right? My first love.”

“W-Well, yeah, I was curious.”

So Sasaki’s actually had love experiences…

With mixed feelings, I listen to her story.

“When I was around high school age, I was on a work trip, and I started noticing this guy I saw there…”

“Wait. Your first love was in high school?”

“Is that bad?”

“Not bad, exactly, but…”

It’s surprising she hadn’t fallen for anyone before high school.

With her national-treasure-level cuteness, I’d think the guys around her wouldn’t stay quiet…

“I started liking this guy I saw at that job. He was good-looking, gave off a stoic vibe… but I never talked to him, didn’t even know him.”

“Did you give up?”

“No! I haven’t given up! I haven’t… given up!”

She pulls her face out of the pillow just enough to show her eyes, glaring at me with desperate intensity.

Oh… so Sasaki’s got someone she actually likes.

Well, of course. She’s a proper college girl, after all.

“Hope you find that first-love guy soon.”

“…Yeah.”

Bringing it up myself, but man, first-love talk gets embarrassing for me too.

“What about you, Makijima?”

“M-Me?”

“Tell me about your first love too.”

“…Alright. Since Sasaki didn’t dodge and told me hers straight, I’ve got to step up as a guy and share mine too.”

I sit up, shift to a seiza position, and steel myself.

“…So, my first love was when I was four.”

“Four?!”

“Yeah. My first love was the college girl next door.”

“Whoa…”

I go on, recounting my first love story about the neighbor lady (now a 35-year-old married woman).

“Man… Makijima, you’re kinda creepy, huh.”

“Hey! How’d you get to that? I told you my first love seriously!”

“Do you still like that lady now?”

“Nah, not really. She’s married now. Plus, after three years in an all-boys school, I kinda lost track of what love even is.”

“I see.”

The pointless, heart-pounding first-love talk ends in awkward silence between us.

Sasaki starts her pre-sleep skincare routine, while I lie in the futon, flipping through a soccer magazine.

Seriously, what was that just now…

It felt like a mutual expose-fest that ended with no one gaining anything…

Once Sasaki finishes her skincare, I sit up and turn off the lights.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be fun.”

“Yeah! …Good night, Makijima.”

“Good night, Sasaki.”

The long day with Sasaki comes to an end.

♣♣♣

1:00 AM.

I’ve been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling since midnight, but sleep just won’t come.

Meanwhile, Makijima, sleeping in the futon below, seems to be out cold already.

Come on, there’s a girl sleeping next to you—show some awareness!

I place a hand on my chest.

The type of woman Makijima likes… huh.

I check the “older” box, but the woman on the Blu-ray package he was hiding had a big chest.

Mine’s just average-sized, I lack warmth, and he treats me like a kid…

Maybe Makijima prefers someone like Aihara—big-chested and kind…

The scene from the hospital yesterday flashes back in my mind.

Aihara comforting a crying Makijima.

I’m supposed to be the older one, but I can’t comfort Makijima like Aihara did.

If this keeps up, Makijima might—

…No, I can’t get weak.

Today, I got a lot closer to Makijima! More than that, he’s the one who invited me on a date, right?

It’s fine. Makijima’s seeing me for who I am.

Don’t lose heart, Ayane Sasaki.

Like when I became the center of Genesistars. To reach the top, I can’t waver even once.

“…Mmm, Sasaki…”

A voice calls me from the futon below.

I look at Makijima—his eyes are closed, so it must be sleep-talking.

Could he be dreaming about me…?

“…Ah, hey… s-stop… n-not there… h-hey!”

Makijima starts thrashing in his sleep.

I-I’m curious. What am I doing to him in that dream…?

No way… i-is it something naughty?!

Too curious to let it go, I keep listening, but I don’t catch the rest of the dream.

Sigh…

What kind of dream was that?

Maybe I’ll ask Makijima directly in the morning…

Gradually feeling sleepy, I drift off without realizing it.

Maybe I’ll ask Makijima directly in the morning…

Gradually feeling sleepy, I drift off without realizing it.

♢♢♢

I wake up to the morning sunlight streaming through the curtains and check the time on my phone.

7:00 AM…?

I yawn and stare blankly at the ceiling.

Man, the bed feels unusually hard today… and the ceiling seems farther away…

Oh, right—I slept on the futon.

Snore… snore…

A cute little snore reaches my ears.

Glancing sideways at the source, I see a brown-haired beauty lying next to me… Huh? A beauty?!

Unbeknownst to me, Ayane Sasaki has been sleeping right beside me, using my right arm as a pillow.

Her medium-short brown hair, glowing even brighter in the sunlight, is all mussed up from sleep.

“S-Sasaki…!”

Snore…

Her eyes are closed, her lips puckered in a duck-like pout, letting out those adorable snores.

Even her sleeping face is cute—talk about unfair.

Up close like this, her long lashes and flawless skin are mesmerizing… I feel like I’d melt the second I touched her.

As I keep staring at her sleeping face, her eyes suddenly pop open.

There’s a three-second pause, and Sasaki’s cheeks gradually turn red.

“Huh? W-What?!”

“Good morning, Sasaki.”

“W-What?! Why’s Makijima sleeping next to me?!”

“That’s what I want to know. This is my futon, you know?”

“Futon?”

Sasaki looks around, realizing where she’s sleeping.

“W-Wait, why am I using your arm as a pillow?!”

“How should I know?!”

“…C-Could it be Makijima dragged me off the bed and did something shady?!”

“As if I would!”

Sasaki gives me a suspicious squint.

This is taking false accusation too far.

“Geez, doing something like that before a date would just make things awkward.”

“Date?”

“Oh.”

Crap, why’d I blurt out “date” like that…

Now it looks like I’m the one getting all excited about it.

“N-No! I meant something else! I was trying to say ‘outing’!”

Her squint shifts to a sly, teasing grin with narrowed eyes and a raised corner of her mouth.

“Date, huh? Ohh~ So Makijima was thinking of it as a date?”

“It’s not like that!”

“Hmm~”

“Ugh, fine, call it a date or whatever! Just know I didn’t do anything!”

“Sure, sure, I get it. A Makijima-kun who was looking forward to a date wouldn’t do that, right?”

Sasaki smirks smugly, egging me on.

I’m so embarrassed I want to bolt, but I take a deep breath to calm down.

“L-Look, it’s already 7. Let’s have breakfast.”

“Yeah!”

Even after that, she kept teasing me about the “date” slip-up, but I felt relieved seeing Sasaki in such a good mood despite it all.

“Still, why’d you end up in my futon…?”

“Guess it’s ‘cause I’ve never had great sleeping habits. Lucky I didn’t land on your head, huh!”

“Lucky, my foot! It’s totally your fault! You planned this, didn’t you?!”

“Well~ Makijima’s so hard to tease, and it’s just fun~”

“This girl!”

I’ve been getting tossed around by Sasaki since yesterday.

After that, we had a lively breakfast together, and then Sasaki headed back home.

Since it was a sudden sleepover, she wants to go back and prep some stuff.

The morning was chaotic with all that went down, but finally, I’m alone.

“Got time ‘til noon—might as well do some laundry.”

I toss the clothes from yesterday’s match into the washing machine and pick up the ones Sasaki was wearing earlier.

They’re oddly warm, stirring something in me.

“N-No, bad thoughts!”

I shake off the distraction and throw everything into the wash.

Giving in to temptation here would play right into Sasaki’s hands.

Stay rational, Yutaro Makijima.

I hit the wash button and let out a deep sigh.

No regrets here, absolutely not.

After that, I hang the laundry on the balcony, tidy the room (putting the “items” back where they belong), and as the meeting time nears, I put on my Tokyo Frontier uniform and head to the nearest station for Koto University.

♣♣♣

When I arrive at the station, supporters wearing Tokyo Frontier uniforms like me are streaming through the gates.

Still thirty minutes before our meeting time.

Did I get here a bit too early?

“The halftime show’s gonna be awesome, right?”

“Yeah, isn’t MIZUKI coming? Rumor is she accidentally spilled that she’s at the stadium already.”

“Way to ruin the surprise.”

“I’m totally snapping a ton of photos!”

I pass by a trio of super hyped-up female supporters.

Halftime show? Someone’s showing up?

“Maa-kijima! Sorry to keep you waiting!”

As I watch the girls, Sasaki calls out from the opposite direction.

“Oh, hey, long time no see!”

“Hey, you were totally checking out those girls, weren’t you?”

“Was not!”

“Hmm~”

Sasaki gives me a skeptical look.

I said I wasn’t looking!

“Anyway, I wore the uniform I borrowed from you, Makijima. What do you think?”

She’s in the Tokyo Frontier uniform—green with a red stripe on the left—paired with a black miniskirt.

For that moment, she takes off her disguise glasses and black mask, flashing a cheerful grin that shows off her white teeth.

♣♣♣

“Looks good on you.”

“Right?”

“It’s crowded today, so we gotta be careful.”

Sasaki nods, putting her disguise glasses and black mask back on.

We pass through the ticket gate and board the train that just arrived. Like when we went for pancakes, Sasaki doesn’t talk at all on the train. Standing in a corner of the crowded car, she stares at her phone, positioning me in front of her to create a wall between her and other passengers.

By the way, when our eyes meet, she locks on until I look away, which is kinda creepy. Got something to say?

As our stop approaches, I try to signal “Next stop” with my hand… but before I can, a Lime message from Sasaki pops up.

What? Did she already know we’re getting off?

Opening the app, my eyes widen.

“Behind you, to the left. A kid’s been staring at us.”

My blood runs cold.

No way…

I glance left and behind. Sure enough, a girl, maybe elementary school age, is staring at us.

…No, she can’t know.

Sasaki’s got the mask, glasses, darker hair—not her idol-era light brown—and platform boots making her look taller. Like when I first recognized Kiraboshi Ayane, you’d need to see under the mask to be sure.

Panicking internally, we reach the stadium’s station, and the train stops.

“Let’s go.”

I grab Sasaki’s hand, rush off the train, and speed through the gate, scanning around.

Anywhere’s fine—just somewhere with no people!

We backtrack from the stadium to a deserted alley and finally stop.

“…We good here?”

No one’s around, but Sasaki stays silent. Something wrong?

“Sasaki?”

Turning to her, I see a small shadow behind her…

No way. That’s why she’s not talking.

Her free hand—the one not holding mine—is gripped by the little girl from the train.

“Big sister… are you Ayane-chan?”

Her voice is faint.

Even our seminar girls haven’t figured out Sasaki’s identity, yet this kid clocks her so easily…

Kids’ intuition is terrifying.

“Sasaki, just say it’s a mistake, and let’s go.”

As I tug her hand, Sasaki says, “Wait,” and crouches to the girl’s level.

“Are you a Kiraboshi Ayane fan?”

Her voice is gentle.

“Yeah! I’ve always loved Ayane-chan… you’re my role model!”

“Really…”

“But I haven’t seen you on TV lately, so I was worried.”

The girl’s words are slightly slurred.

Sasaki gently pats her head.

“Are you… Ayane-chan?”

The girl asks again, anxious.

Sasaki nods silently.

She… admitted it? Is that okay?

“I’m so glad you’re okay, Ayane-chan!”

“Sorry for worrying you.”

I want to ask if it’s safe to reveal herself, but seeing her with her fan, I feel like an outsider butting in would be tacky.

“What’s your name?”

“Sh-Shizuku…”

“Shizuku-chan, huh? So, you want to be an idol like me?”

“Yeah! I want to be an idol who cheers everyone up like you!”

“Cheer up…?”

“Yup! I’ve always been sick, couldn’t make friends… it was tough. But watching you, I got the energy to go outside!”

“…I see. That’s great.”

Sasaki stands, naturally taking my hand again.

“Shizuku-chan, let’s keep this meeting our little secret, okay?”

“What about that guy?”

“Oh, he’s my bodyguard.”

“Hey, who’s a—”

Sasaki crushes my hand with insane grip strength.

“Gah!”

As I wince, she crouches back to Shizuku’s level.

“If you promise, I’ll give you this headband.”

She takes the red headband from her hair and hands it to the girl.

“Wow! Really?!”

“But you have to keep the promise.”

“Okay!”

Shizuku carefully takes the headband and puts it on. A gift from her idol must be a lifelong treasure.

“Hey, Ayane-chan, are you here for the Tokyo Frontier match?”

“Yup.”

“Then maybe at halftime—”

A ringtone interrupts from Shizuku’s pocket. She answers, her face souring.

“I got separated ‘cause I got off first, and Mom’s mad.”

Yeah, makes sense.

“Thanks for the headband, Ayane-chan! See you!”

“Bye.”

Sasaki waves as Shizuku runs toward the stadium.

“She’s gone.”

“Phew, fan interactions are exhausting.”

“Good job. You’re surprisingly great with kids.”

“Well, I’m the big sister type!”

Sasaki puffs out her modest chest, probably smirking under her mask.

We leave the alley for the stadium street, heading to our destination.

“Even with a disguise, you still get recognized.”

“Kids don’t worry about being wrong, so if they think you look familiar, they just say it.”

“If you think that, why not just deny it? Say it’s a mistake, and you’re safe.”

“Yeah, but… I did the same thing as a kid.”

“Huh?”

“When I was little, I called out to an idol I saw on the street.”

Sasaki opens her phone’s photo folder and shows me a picture: young, black-haired Sasaki next to a woman with bright hair.

“She’s the reason I wanted to be an idol.”

I don’t know her, but she must be famous to those in the know.

“I saw myself in Shizuku… Normally, I’d deny it, but…”

“I get it.”

As we near the stadium, the crowd grows, and Sasaki gets quieter.

Climbing the white stairs on the main street, the massive stadium looms ahead. Fans in Tokyo Frontier or rival team jerseys bustle around.

“So many people… all here for soccer?”

“Yup. Tokyo Frontier draws over ten or twenty thousand per match.”

“Wow…”

Maybe not a big deal for Kiraboshi Ayane, who packed tens of thousands per concert.

We follow the crowd, show our tickets to staff, and pass through bag checks. It’s been a while, and the closer we get, the more excited I feel. Between university matches and practice, I haven’t had time to watch games.

I’m itching to see the pitch, but…

“Hey, Makijima, look at all the food!”

Sasaki tugs my hand, pulling me from the entrance.

“Stadium food, huh? Lines are long. Let’s hit the pitch first—”

“No way! We’ve got reserved seats, so we can take our time. C’mon, food first!”

“Ugh.”

Sasaki drags me to the food stalls.

“What’re you getting?”

“Baby castella, crepes, and tacos!”

“Crepes and tacos? Kinda the same thing.”

“Doesn’t matter!”

Sasaki’s hyped before the match even starts.

☆☆

Sasaki’s eyes sparkle at her bag of baby castella, while I’m stuck holding her crepe and taco.

“No eating while walking. Bad manners. We’ll eat at our seats.”

“I know! Stop treating me like a kid!”

Liar, you were about to dig in.

With our food bought, we pass through the gate into the stadium. A strong breeze blows outward. Fighting it, we head to our lower-tier main stand seats, overlooking the pitch.

Under a clear sky, sprinklers create a rainbow over the pitch. When they stop, lush green grass shines through.

I’m jealous of anyone who gets to play on such a pristine field.

“So close! We’ll see all the fan service from here.”

“Have you ever performed at this stadium?”

“Not here, location-wise. But seeing a big stadium’s pitch from the stands is new.”

She used to stand center-stage at venues this big… must feel nostalgic.

Or so I thought, but Sasaki casually grabs her taco and starts eating, ignoring any sentiment.

“Mmm, spicy and delicious!”

Ruining the mood, she lifts her mask to chew. Eating like that must be a pain, but it’s her only option.

“You love tacos, huh?”

“Yup, tacos are the best.”

“Pancakes, tacos… all your favorites are flour-based. Crepes and castella too.”

“So what? Less guilt than rice.”

“Pretty much the same.”

As I watch her munch on tacos and crepes, players emerge for warm-ups, met with huge applause.

“Who do you cheer for?” Sasaki asks, mouth full of crepe.

“The guy whose jersey we’re wearing.”

“Number 9?”

“Look, he’s about to shoot—”

On the pristine pitch, near the penalty area, Tokyo Frontier’s Number 9 shakes his shoulder-length white hair. Short but deadly, his speed dismantles defenses.

“Kita Makoto, my high school senior.”

“Wow, his white hair’s gorgeous… so small, like a girl, but his shots are powerful.”

Sasaki’s hand freezes mid-crepe, her eyes glued to the pitch.

She’s just like I was when I first saw a pro match.

“Did you see that, Makijima?! That pass shouldn’t have connected, but Number 9’s speed—”

Even before the match, Sasaki’s hyped. No surprise. The roaring crowd, players risking it all for one goal—it’s the pro world.

Warm-ups end, and the pre-game ceremonies wrap up. N1 League, Round 3: Tokyo Frontier vs. Kashiwagi Rave begins.

Kashiwagi’s yellow jerseys spread out after their huddle.

“Is the yellow team strong?”

“Third place last year.”

“Third? That’s tough. What about Tokyo Frontier?”

“Fifteenth.”

“They got crushed!”

“That was last year! This year, they’ll win it all.”

“Sure, sure. Go team!”

While I get fired up, Sasaki rolls her eyes and grabs more food.

The match starts, and Kashiwagi’s midfielder boots a long ball into Tokyo’s half. Chants echo from the stands, amplifying the atmosphere.

Tokyo dominates, with Kita Makoto’s three-man front line pressuring Kashiwagi’s defense with breakaway tactics.

“The speed’s insane… totally different from Koto University’s matches,” Sasaki says.

“Of course. Second-tier uni league vs. pros is a huge gap.”

“You’ll play here if you go pro, right?”

“Me… pro?”

“Yup.”

I almost brush it off with, “What’re you saying, Sasaki?” but stop short.

Yesterday, crying in front of Aihara, I realized I kept playing soccer through university because I love it. But that’s not the only reason.

Sasaki, clueless about soccer, doesn’t know I’m from a world far from the pros. Yet her innocent words remind me why I play.

It’s not just love for the game.

“If I’m going pro, I need to get used to this speed.”

“Exactly! First, you gotta make the A-team.”

“Yeah.”

Saying I want to go pro out loud might be a first. Thanks, Sasaki. You helped me reaffirm I want to be a pro. I can’t look lame in front of you.

☆☆

The match ends in a scoreless draw at halftime.

Sasaki’s munching time begins. She opens her precious castella bag.

“Munch munch.”

“You eat a lot.”

“Want some?”

“…You’re not pulling another pancake prank, right?”

“I won’t!”

“Fine, I’ll take one.”

“Here, say ‘ahh.’”

Sasaki picks out a castella and holds it to my mouth.

“Stop, that’s embarrassing.”

“It’s a date for you, right, Makijima?”

She keeps ribbing me for my slip-up. Annoying.

“C’mon, eat before—”

“Hey, supporters!”

The stadium DJ’s voice booms.

“It’s halftime showtime! Today’s surprise guest is… the former Genesistars member, now a singer-songwriter, MIZUKI!”

Cheers erupt from supporters and fans there for her.

“Hey, former Genesistars… Sasaki?”

A castella slips from her hand. I catch it just above the ground.

“Close call. What’s wrong, Sasaki?”

Her food-obsessed gaze shifts, her face pale, staring at the pitch.

A Genesistars alum means Sasaki’s ex-teammate, but something’s off.

MIZUKI walks to the pitch’s center, her glossy black hair swept to the left. The scoreboard zooms in on her face—beautiful, like an actress, but her sharp features and intense eyes give a cold vibe.

“MIZUKI! First time meeting!”

“…”

“Uh, MIZUKI! It’s 0-0 at halftime. A word for the home team?”

“…”

“Um…?”

“…Hope you win.”

“Yes! Thanks for the classic cool comment! Now, MIZUKI, your new song!”

‘MIZUKI’ chants rise as fans wave glowsticks. Her clear voice fills the stadium.

I’ve heard it before—maybe the championship theme’s solo part or other songs.

But more importantly…

Sasaki stares silently at MIZUKI.

“You okay?”

“…”

“Sasaki?”

“It’s just…”

While fans are captivated, Sasaki looks down at her castella bag.

“She’s the last person I wanted to see.”

“What? MIZUKI was your teammate—”

Wait. Sasaki said she quit Genesistars after clashing with a member. Her reaction… MIZUKI’s the one, isn’t she?

This must be hell for her.

As MIZUKI’s song echoes, I grab Sasaki’s hand and stand.

“What’s up?”

“Grab your stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Let’s leave. No need to see something you don’t want to.”

“…Okay.”

Sasaki grabs her things and follows me silently, understanding my intent.

☆☆

With MIZUKI’s show ongoing, the stadium area’s quiet. We head to the exit gate.

“Sorry, Sasaki. I had no idea a Genesistars alum would perform.”

“It’s not your fault! Even if you knew, only insiders know our drama.”

“Drama…?”

“MIZUKI’s the one I clashed with.”

So, she’s the reason Sasaki quit. No wonder her face dropped.

“I’m the one who’s bad for still being traumatized.”

“Sasaki…”

Quitting at her peak must’ve been tough.

Her condition’s not great, and pushing her further feels cruel. Plus, I’m worried about her fans.

“Sasaki, let’s leave and find somewhere else.”

“I’m fine! My color’s back, and there’s still the second half—”

“No. The surprise had too many matching glowsticks and cheers. Someone might’ve leaked MIZUKI’s appearance. Like Shizuku, Genesistars or Kiraboshi fans might be here. It’s risky to stay.”

“You’re right… but is it okay? You got us great seats…”

“Your safety’s worth more than money!”

“Huh?”

“No arguing. Let’s go.”

“Okay…”

We leave during halftime. Sorry to Azaki for the seats, but it can’t be helped.

Walking toward the station, Sasaki tugs my sleeve.

“What?”

“…Sorry for everything.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you.”

“But…”

Even through her mask, she looks down.

I keep saying it’s fine, but she stays gloomy.

At a crosswalk, I spot a family restaurant.

I haven’t eaten lunch—Sasaki had stadium food, but still.

“Hey, Sasaki?”

“What?”

“Wanna grab something to eat?”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah, just one castella so far. If you’re not feeling up to it, we can skip.”

“No, I wanna go! I’m not ready to head home!”

Sasaki perks up a bit. Food always cheers her up.

“Hey, Makijima.”

“Hm?”

“…Thanks.”

She mumbles shyly. That’s the usual Sasaki.

Relieved, I can’t help but smile.

“Why’re you grinning?”

“Nothing. So, what do you want to eat?”

“Pancakes!”

“…Seriously?”

☆☆

A few train stops from the stadium, we arrive at Sasaki’s favorite café. Last time, she made me pretend to be her boyfriend, forced me to make a heart, share a drink, got mad, and found a condom in my wallet—a disaster.

“Welcome, Ayane-chan!”

A bored cashier lady greets Sasaki as we enter.

“I heard you were coming, so I saved your usual window seat.”

“Saved? This place is always empty.”

“Ouch, hitting where it hurts… Oh, and hi, boyfriend-kun!”

“Hey.”

She knows we’re not dating but treats us like a couple anyway.

We sit at the same window table as before. Sasaki takes off her glasses and mask, exhaling, “Phew!”

“Here’s the menu. Oh, Ayane-chan…”

The cashier starts chatting while handing it over.

“Did you make that photo I took your home screen?”

“Photo?” I ask.

She grins creepily. “You know, the one where you and Ayane-chan made a heart? She asked for it after—”

“I didn’t!” Sasaki cuts in.

“But—”

“Makijima, don’t listen to her! She’s full of lies. Let’s order!”

Sasaki warns me, changing the subject.

Did she really ask for that embarrassing photo? Maybe the cashier’s lying to tease us, knowing we’re not a couple.

“I’ll get the usual pancake set. You, Makijima?”

“Obviously not the couple’s set. Last time was bad enough.”

“…I wouldn’t mind.”

“Huh?”

Sasaki mumbles something, shakes her head, and shoves the menu at me.

“If you’re hungry, how about a hot sandwich? The cheese is all melty and delicious!”

She’s oddly panicked, pushing the sandwich.

Pancakes sound heavy, and if she recommends it…

“Hot sandwich and… iced tea.”

“C’mon, boyfriend-kun, that’s where you order the couple’s set!”

“Huh?”

“Makijima, don’t listen!”

“Right.”

The cashier smirks and heads to the kitchen.

“She always teases.”

“Last time, too, but you’re pretty close with her, huh?”

“Well… we go back to my idol days.”

Sasaki sips water before continuing.

“During idol days, it was work, work, work. This café was my escape on rare days off. At first, I picked it ‘cause it was empty, but the pancakes were amazing, and I started coming after work too.”

“So, you’ve been coming here for, what, three or four years?”

“Not last year—I was abroad after quitting. When I returned, they’d added that giant couple’s soufflé pancake set.”

“So you used me.”

“Don’t say ‘used’! It was for your refreshment too.”

It was more exhausting than practice.

“You studied abroad?”

“Yup. After quitting, I figured people would pry, and I wanted to rest where no one knew me, so I did a year of language study.”

“Wow…”

As a former top idol who still needs disguises, Japan must be tough.

“Then why enroll in a Japanese university? Why not stay abroad?”

“W-Well, uh…”

She looks uneasy, gulping her water.

“Did I ask something bad?”

“No, it’s just…”

There’s clearly something she doesn’t want to say.

“If it’s hard to talk about, you don’t have to—”

“My parents! They pushed for a Japanese university, so I chose Koto! They always decide stuff for me. Annoying, right? Haha.”

She shifts from hesitant to chatty, but the pause makes it sound like a lie. I won’t push.

“Language study, huh? So you’re fluent in English?”

“Yup, English and French.”

“Impressive.”

“If you join an overseas team, want me as your interpreter?”

“Me, overseas? Nah.”

“Why not? Don’t players aim for Europe?”

“Sure, every player dreams of it, but it’s not that easy.”

More Japanese players are succeeding abroad, but for a nobody like me, especially in England’s top league, it’s a pipe dream.

“C’mon, if you go pro, aim for Europe! It’s fun—different scenery, culture, everything!”

“What’s that? Planning a family already?” The cashier interrupts with our drinks.

“We’re not!” Sasaki snaps, sipping her drink.

“Boyfriend-kun, must be tough keeping up with her.”

“Yeah…”

“How about switching to me?”

Sasaki chokes on her drink. “Cough! W-What?!”

“Kidding, kidding! Want my number later?”

“No way! Makijima, I’ll get mad if you take it.”

“I won’t. She said it’s a joke.”

“Half-serious, maybe? Boyfriend-kun’s hot.”

“Stop it!”

“Aw, Ayane-chan’s such a clingy girlfriend.”

“I’m not!”

Sasaki’s been the cashier’s toy. Pouting, she sips through her straw.

“She’s relentless.”

“Like a squid—you chew, and the flavor keeps coming. Her reactions are too fun.”

“Just bring the pancakes!”

“Coming right up.”

The cashier heads back.

“You’ve got no tease resistance, Sasaki.”

“Shut up.”

Still sulky, she pouts with pursed lips.

“Don’t take her number.”

“I won’t. I’m not interested. How little do you trust me?”

“…You like older women.”

“Well…”

“Deny it, idiot!”

Sasaki stays riled up.

☆☆

The day after watching soccer with Sasaki, I wake up on the bed where she slept, tormented by her lingering scent.

Waking up with Sasaki beside me won’t happen again…

A weird melancholy hits.

No, that’s normal. That one day was too irregular.

“…Gonna wash my face.”

Getting up, I notice my charging phone on the table with a notification—a Lime from Azaki.

I unplug it, sit on the bed, and check.

Azaki: Makijima. Important talk.

Important? What’s with the formality?

Maybe the cleats he mentioned. I reply, The cleats?

It’s read instantly.

Azaki: No, serious stuff. Listen up.

Azaki, serious? I skim it.

Azaki: Last mixer was a bust.

You guys crashed and burned.

Azaki: But next time, we’ll nail it.

Next? What’s he on about?

Annoyed, I reply, What next?

Azaki: I set up another mixer! Details at your place before practice.

That jerk put me in another mixer. Practice is soon—he might show up any minute.

I take a hot shower to wake up, toast bread, and sip instant corn soup.

“Sasaki’s potage soup the other day was so good.”

Her pasta and potato salad too… though the portions were insane.

These past two days, I’ve seen so many sides of Sasaki: cooking, bathing (clothed), sleeping on my arm, kind to kids. She’s quick to anger, pushy with her “big sister” act, and childish, but her perfect smile makes it impossible to dislike her.

She’s a normal girl in love, searching for her first crush from her idol days.

Sasaki’s so kind, she spent a night looking after me. The least I can do is support her love.

“What kind of guy makes a national treasure like her fall at first sight?”

I wanna see him once. Johnny’s idol? Korean star? Maybe a Hollywood-type?

Either way, probably celebrity-level hot.

My chest feels foggy. I chug my soup to clear it.

“Hot! …Huh?”

My phone buzzes. A call from Azaki.

“Yo, Makijima! I’m at your building. Unlock the door.”

“Annoying so early. Debt collector or what?”

Holding my soup cup, I unlock the door. Seconds later, Azaki strolls in, wearing a tracksuit.

“Morning, Makijima!”

“Hey.”

“What’s this? Sipping a cup all elegant? Slacking off, huh?”

“Complain to the coach who benched me. I wanna practice.”

“No way. Rest.”

“Whose side are you on? I’m more worried about your mood swings than my overtraining.”

We sit at the table, chatting about yesterday’s match, the team, and more. Azaki gets to the point.

“Makijima, last mixer sucked, right?”

“Don’t care. You dragged me into it.”

“It sucked for me. Aihara’s been cold since, and my Shinjuku-Shibuya pickups keep bombing.”

“You do that regularly?”

Scary to think any girl would go with this sleazy perm guy. Maybe I shouldn’t call him my best friend.

“Back home, I was the genius soccer kid, but the city’s tough.”

“Get to the point.”

Azaki clears his throat and kneels formally.

“You might’ve guessed, but last mixer, I used you as bait. Showed Igarashi, the girls’ leader, your photo from the team site, and she okayed it instantly. Sorry!”

He bows, forehead to the floor.

Sasaki did say Azaki used me as bait. It was true.

“Makijima, I’m sorry!”

“No need for that.”

“Lend me your strength again.”

“Zero remorse, huh?”

Azaki sits back, leaning on the table, his bow clearly fake.

“About that next mixer I mentioned on Lime.”

“Topic change too fast.”

“Quick transitions are key for soccer players.”

“Yours are all negative.”

“Don’t roast your best friend.”

“You sold me out and call yourself that?”

“Anyway, this mixer’s with Tokyo Aristo Women’s University!”

“Tokyo Aristo? Fancy name.”

“You don’t know it?”

“Nope.”

Azaki snorts. “Typical small-towner.”

“You just called yourself that.”

Ignoring me, he continues.

“Tokyo Aristo’s the top women’s university in Japan. Only perfect ladies get in—exams test academics and elegance.”

“So, an elite girls’ school?”

“Yup. Aristo grads are top-tier.”

I don’t care about social tiers.

“These fancy girls are joining your sleazy mixer?”

“Yup! Showed them your photo, and three signed up.”

“You used me again.”

“And get this—”

Azaki grins, rubbing the table.

“These girls are surrounded by women at school, so they’re… pent-up. Even my wild-beast photo hooked some.”

“Stop making it sound dirty.”

Sighing, I grab my toast from the kitchen and return.

“I’m not going. No reward will change that.”

“They’re all older women.”

He’s weaponizing my taste.

“No way! Not going!”

“Fine, you’re out.”

Surprisingly, he backs off, grabbing his backpack.

“Then our golden duo’s done.”

“We were never a duo.”

“I won’t pass or cross to you anymore.”

“What?!”

He waves, heading to the door.

“Sad, huh? Your best friend’s in need, and you’re too cold to help.”

“That’s not—don’t make me the bad guy!”

“Choose, Makijima. Refuse, and you’re stuck in Koto’s B-team for four years.”

My body shudders.

Four years… B-team…

“I need your finishing. You need my perfect passes. We’re a unit. I can make chances and get to the A-team. But you, a finisher, need goals to move up. If we split, you’re the one who suffers.”

“But—”

“Join the mixer, and I’ll make you the top college striker. Refuse, and we’re done.”

Damn… Azaki’s a scumbag, but his cunning’s top-notch.

He’s right. His passing and soccer IQ have helped me grow. Without him, I’d stagnate like in high school.

“Just show up, sip water, and you might go pro.”

“…”

“Decide, Makijima Yusaku!”

I want to change. I want to wear Number 9 as a pro. That’s why I came to Koto.

“…Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Makijima…”

“You’re trash, but I need you, Azaki Seiichi.”

“Harsh.”

And so, I, Makijima Yusaku, make another deal with the devil named Azaki, signing up for a mixer with Tokyo Aristo Women’s University.