In fact, Isshiki Iroha's guess had been spot‑on.
When Hayama Hayato arrived, he greeted everyone politely—but then went straight over to chat with Shirase.
Watching this, Miura Yumiko, who had come to training with Hayama, looked visibly deflated.
Her feelings were basically public knowledge by now, yet Hayama still treated her no differently from anyone else.
The only thing the blonde girl could be thankful for was that she'd dragged Ebina Hina along today. Otherwise, standing here by herself on the sidelines would've been seriously awkward.
"Hey, Hayama," the captain suddenly leaned toward him and Shirase, lowering his voice with a teasing grin as he glanced toward Miura Yumiko—who stood nearby looking helpless. "Miura-san waits for you after practice almost every time. Are you two secretly dating?"
Hayama only smiled easily. "No, we're just friends. My relationship with Yumiko is the same as with the rest of the team—we're all friends."
"Huh?" The captain's mouth fell open, his face saying plainly: Are you serious?
Shirase didn't comment. After exchanging a few words of small talk, he switched on [Fixed Hosting] and continued training.
Physical drills were monotonous and exhausting, but now everyone had a goal—a burning desire for the national tournament. Even the weakest first‑years gritted their teeth and pushed through every set.
...
When the players finally broke for rest, Shirase wrapped up his technical practice. Isshiki Iroha, holding her notebook, immediately approached. "According to my stats, you don't have any weaknesses in your skill set. Whether it's shooting or long passes, those are all your strong points."
Shirase looked at her. "So?"
Iroha smiled brightly. "I think you should coordinate more with Hayama‑kun in upcoming matches. His top speed isn't slow, but his burst acceleration lags far behind yours. If you two could synchronize better, you might create a lot more scoring chances."
"Teamwork with my teammates is only natural." Shirase reached for his water bottle—only for another hand to offer him one first.
It was Hayama Hayato, holding out a bottle with his usual sunny smile.
"Thanks," Shirase said, twisting the cap open.
Hayama replied, "Honestly, I think you should just play at your own pace. With your ability, even compared to the third‑years, you're definitely top‑tier."
Before Shirase could respond, Isshiki hesitated. "But our next opponent is last year's national top‑eight team. The only reason they stopped there was that three of their starters were injured. This year they're even stronger, so I still think you two should practice more coordination."
Her implication was obvious: in the whole soccer club, only Hayama could barely keep up with Shirase.
"If there's a chance, I'll coordinate more. But…"
Hayama gave a rueful grin, raising an eyebrow at Shirase. "This guy's first‑step acceleration is ridiculous. Even at my peak, I can't match it."
"I'll pay attention to your position. Everyone else's too," Shirase promised.
The moment of wordless eye contact between them hit everyone differently.
Isshiki Iroha exhaled in relief—the looming match against a powerhouse team had been weighing on her new‑manager shoulders.
The captain and other teammates were brimming with confidence.
As for Ebina Hina on the sidelines…
They looked at each other.
Hayama raised an eyebrow!
Shirase accepted it!
This… this is the blazing, surging passion between boys!
Behind that demure exterior, a fujoshi's heart was roaring to life.
When she'd seen Hayama pass Shirase a bottle of water, her eyes had already lit up—and in her mind, a sweet, romantic background song began to play.
Sure, to everyone else the two boys were just talking normally. But in Ebina's eyes, it was a scene filled with tension—two handsome young men exchanging tender gazes in the sunlight.
If there were ever a doujin about Shirase and Hayama, I'd buy it instantly—and treasure it forever!
When Hayama smiled gently at Shirase, the fangirl's heartbeat went wild.
As expected! Boys should belong with boys! And we girls… we're here to admire, to observe, to appreciate this beautiful bond from the sidelines!
Behind her glasses, her gaze grew increasingly unhinged.
Until...
"Whoa, whoa, why are you suddenly bleeding from the nose?!" Miura Yumiko's panicked voice broke the silence.
Ebina calmly wiped the blood away. "Just a little internal injury. Don't worry about it."
Then, as if nothing had happened, she asked, "By the way, wasn't there a rumor a while back that the drama club president liked Shirase? I heard she was planning to confess?"
"That's true," Yumiko nodded. "But lately, the one most often linked to Shirase is the soccer club's new manager." She sighed. "Our school never runs short on gossip about Shirase and Hayama, huh?"
Ebina murmured dreamily, "If only the drama club could invite them to guest‑star in one of their plays…"
"Them? In a play?"
A string of question marks seemed to pop above Yumiko's head before she burst out laughing. "No way! Even if the drama club really did invite them, Hayama might agree, but Shirase—"
She glanced instinctively toward the field, at Shirase's figure, and shook her head firmly. "No chance. Hayama had to beg him forever just to get him to join the soccer club."
Ebina said nothing further.
Because in her mind, a new fantasy storm had already begun.
Hayama Hayato, with his blond hair—perfect for playing a rebellious delinquent.
Shirase, cool and stoic—the calm, sharp‑eyed leader of the gang.
Delinquent Leader × Defiant Underling.jpg
Perfect!
...
Meanwhile, Shirase and Hayama, completely unaware, continued their drills—oblivious to the fact that somewhere nearby, a certain fujoshi had already assigned them roles, personalities, and a full dramatic arc.
At around 3:30 that afternoon, still under [Fixed Hosting] mode, Shirase suddenly felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning, he saw Isshiki pointing behind him. "Nakano‑san's here. She's definitely here to see you, right?"
Nakano‑san?
Nino?
Naturally, Shirase thought first of Nakano Nino.
But when he turned around—
It wasn't Nino at all, but Nakano Yotsuba, hands clasped behind her back, hopping cheerfully toward him.
With each light step she took, the ribbon atop her head bounced gently too—just like the swaying of a slender girl's waist in the wind.