Nekozawa ran a hand through his spiky, unkempt, blonde hair. He let out a triumphant puff of air for no apparent reason.

"Finally!" he smiled, looking up at the sky with bright eyes. "Practice is over! I do really love football, but it's a bummer everyone's sooo serious. Nobody'll crack a joke, or nothing! There's no laughter, or anything. It's like we're soldiers. I thought the point of playing football was having fun! They're all making it a job, or some sort of mission, where your life is on the line."

The catlike boy laughed softly at himself, shaking his head for being so silly. Who was he talking to? He decided to start on the way home, but after only a few steps, something caught his eye.

Their manager hadn't emptied the trash yet, it seemed, because it was filled to the brim. The particular object that had caught his eye, though, was a rather small, but intact, fish skeleton visible atop all the rubbish. Its meat had been picked clean off the bone, but Nekozawa was strangely attracted to it.

He moved closer and closer to the garbage can, eyes widening with every step. Soon, he was peering over the edge, and he kept leaning, further and further still, until he eventually lost balance and toppled face first into a pile of junk. He happened to kick the lid over his head, sealing the bin that Nekozawa would forever label as a "stinky metal death trap."

It was filled to the brim with a repulsive assortment of sports related trash, including some of these various items: worn out, sweat stained socks, old padding, cracked gear, Shogun's old, hairy razor…

Just as he was about to hoist himself out, he heard another voice. It most definitely belonged to a girl, because it was high pitched, yet soft- It seemed vaguely familiar to him. The girl was seemingly mumbling about something.

"Those boys, sometimes..," he could tell she was frustrated, though the words came gently, as if she were a mother worrying for a naughty child. "I wish that they would take me into consideration once. Then again, I don't even think they know that I exist, most of the time. I am kind of quiet, and really small."

She lifted the lid, and just as Nekozawa was about to spring out, Wakana dumped a heap of trash upon him, slamming him back into the odorous filth. Unfortunately, a couple of socks got stuck in his mouth, and the poor boy was unable to speak. He did make a little noise when the garbage can shook, though. He could feel himself, or rather, the garbage can, being propelled off of the ground.

"Wow," he thought to himself. "She can actually lift this? Even when it's so small? I bet this thing is bigger than she is…"

"Really, I wish they'd say 'Thank you,' sometimes, or something… Anything!" she said in a faint, but somewhat disheartened whisper. "I'm glad I was able to clean up the mess they made on the field… But, I really hope they don't dislike me. Then again, that may not be it… But I'm small and hard to see, and I guess I'm sort of quiet, so I'm easy to miss."

Nekozawa could not help but feel a little guilty, listening to the rather petite manager's woes. It was true, though, she was short and didn't talk much, and therefore easily overlooked. He remembered tidbits of a conversation he had heard while changing in the locker room.

--

"She's small isn't she?"

"Yeah, and she's really quiet too."

"Are you guys sure she'd be a suitable manager? I mean really, I'm not even sure she'd be strong enough to carry a first aid kit."

"Really?" a more distinct, calmer voice seemed to slice through the air, stopping the pointless chatter altogether. "I think Wakana-kun is very strong for her size. She's hard working, and she does her best for us. And even though she's rather tiny-"

"Especially compared to you, Takami-sempai."

"Yeah, what did you eat when you were a kid? I bet you drank lots of milk, huh."

Nekozawa had only partially managed to pull an undersized shirt over his head. Yet again, his curious nature got the best of him, and he ended up banging into several lockers before finally being able to see his teammates. They ignored him, as usual, but he was free to stay and as far as they were concerned. So, all he didn't speak, and instead sat there with an expression similar to that of a newborn kitten- Eyes wide and ears ready to listen.

Takami frowned slightly, but he attempted to conceal any signs of displeasure. Still, this expression bothered Nekozawa, since the quarterback usually had a calm, pleasant expression on his face outside of practice.

He would always have to look up in order to see the older boy's face, Nekozawa noted. Takami only pushed his square, thick rimmed glasses up his nose, sighing as he said, "Her size is the reason we should only respect her more. Just because she's a little smaller than all of the managers for the other teams, she doesn't complain about having to carry the same, if not larger, workload. We are a large team, aren't we?"

--

And, as she kept on talking about how useless she was, Nekozawa only became more frustrated. With himself, the rest of the team, and even Wakana herself- She wasn't pathetic! She couldn't be, not at all! But, someone needed to reassure her, tell her that…

He was ready to burst through the lid at any moment,