5 If Handa had to honest, sometimes he thought that Kurimatsu was more of a sassy shit than Max. And Max was bad. But as annoying as it was, it managed humor people. Whenever Kurimatsu called Kabeyama a whiny, giant baby (or teased Handa for being too much of a klutz which was a lot too frequent in his opinion) it made the team laugh. Every crisis could be overcome with laughter.

Humor was the best way to entertain people and if you managed to entertain people, they noticed you. As of until now Handa had been one to laugh with people rather than make them laugh (if you did not count the times people laughed about him – really, people had the talent to notice him in his most unfortunate moments), but a few harmless jokes could add to his natural charm, right? Yeah, that was a good plan.


"Yo momma's so stupid, she got hit by a parked car!"

Handa was not exactly sure what had led to this situation but Kurimatsu, Shishido and Max were bombarding each other with "yo momma"-jokes.

"Yo momma's so old, she has the autographed version of the Bible!"

Some of them were so absurd, Handa did not know what to say. When an especially weird one fell, even Kidou (who was in a strategic meeting with Endou and Gouenji) snorted. And Kidou was not even comfortable with that topic (Handa was tempted to ask them to stop since two members of their team did not even have a mother). When that could even humor someone like him though, maybe this was the perfect chance for Handa.

The only problem was that Handa was not good at coming up fast retorts (at least retorts that exceeded something like "I'm gonna give you - !"). He wracked his brain to come up with something but he really could not. Maybe -

"Yo momma is so dumb she tripped over a cordless phone!"

"Your mother pulls catapults to Gondor!"

Everybody's heads turned towards Handa (even the new members were surprised) and a for Handa uncomfortable silence ensued. That had actually been a creative one! Why were they looking at him that way? Had that been too weird?

Kurimatsu was the first one to speak up:"What."

"I didn't get that one."

"What the hell is Gondor?"

Handa gave a nervous laugh. "Never read Lord of the Rings?"

"No", Kurimatsu deadpanned.

"Handa The-Mood-Killer Shinichi is back in action!", Max laughed.

"Shut up", Handa muttered while turning away from the scene.

Shishido sighed. "I think you don't understand the high art of yo-momma-jokes. They need to be so low that you don't need any previous knowledge to understand them."

Handa saw himself doomed as his underclassmen gathered around him to teach him the "high art". Aki giggled nervously.


7 Shourin's soccer was special. His fluid but strong and controlled movements were characteristical. His love for martial arts, especially, Kung Fu, reflected in his way of soccer. Shourin once said that both sports were an important part of him – he could not live without the other, they completed him.

Handa wondered if maybe another hobby besides his pretty half-assed soccer would be something for him. It would definitely make him more interesting, he would be mor than the normal boy from the soccer club. He could be the normal boy from the soccer club that wrote poems. Or something.

No, rather not. Poems were mushy. Handa preferred being normal over being a wuss. He would search for something different (besides language was not exactly his forte). Quickly he got up from his bed which had become his fulcrum of thinking and headed over to his computer to turn it on. The internet would surely bring him enlightenment. Whatever you typed into Google, it would give you an answer.

His old computer roared with the volume of a plane engine. Handa had gotten his father's old one when he had decided that the old thing did not fit his standards anymore. To be honest, Handa dreaded touching the thing – the loud noises it made could not possibly be healthy. Neither were the sparks every time you plugged it in. After what seemed to be forever the welcome screen lit up and Handa logged in.

The computer protested a bit when Handa clicked the Internet Explorer right after the desktop showed and froze. Handa sighed. Maybe he should ask his father (his mother would flip) for a new one. Luckily Google was his starting screen or he would have waited another eternity for it to load.(The computer had unfrozen by now.)

Handa searched for "hobby ideas" and "hobby test" and came across a site which apparently tested for which activity you were suited best. Quickly he filled out the self-evaluation-test (deja vu!) and clicked on the red "Go!" button. Patiently he waited for his old machine to process.

As expected most results had about 50 percent accordance (deja vu). He scrolled own to see that soccer was somewhere at the bottom of the list. But what surprised him most was the fact that proudly on top of the list with 80 percent stood baking.

Baking. Who did they think he was? Zeke from High School Musical? (Not that Handa had seen the movie, of course.) But instead of playing basketball, he played soccer and Endou would start singing while practicing his newest goalkeeper move... wait, his thoughts had strayed. But Handa could not stop humming "Get cha head in the game" for the rest of the day.


Handa had dismissed that short episode and managed to forget about it for several days. That was until Max' birthday came around and Handa wanted to do something special for him. Of course, the soccer club members had pooled together some money to buy some presents but him and Max had gotten rather close over the past year and he felt obliged to do something more. They would have a small gift exchange after training but it would not feel right without a cake.

And if this website thought that baking was his thing, why not give it a shot?

His family had a small, handwritten notebook, full of different recipes that had been passed down since generations. There should be something easy enough even for him who managed to mess up cooking rice. Everybody liked a plain spice cake. (Plain – his catchword.)

According to the recipe he even had all the ingredients he needed: flour, eggs, sugar, butter, cocoa, baking soda and a range of different spices. Things they usually had around anyway. While rummaging through the cabinets Handa even found some couverture for topping and colourful sprinkles for decoration.

Handa had already baked quite a few times in his life but he was far from a master confectioner. Sometimes he managed to burn it and the one time he tried cream gateau the cream had been too fluid and had soaked the layers and practically swam away. (His mother had named it the ladle-gateau as they practically had to spoon the cake.) But today Handa had chosen a simple recipe, so everything should be fine.

And fine it was. The dough had just the right structure and its taste was good as far as Handa could tell. It was kind of strong but that would probably fade during the baking process... he hoped.

Handa spread the dough on the baking sheet (using a baking pan would result in too few slices) and placed it in the oven. Max would love it.


Transporting the cake proved itself as a bit of a problem because of course Handa had chosen yesterday as the day to bring home his soccer uniform and sweat suit for his mother to wash, so he had to take it with him additionally to his school bag.

He carefully balanced the baking tray in both hands (some elementary school kids nearly ran him over – they looked suspiciously a lot like Inazuma KFC members) and walked to school. Today was finally warm again, maybe he should put the cake into the clubroom's fridge (the managers kept ingredients to spice up the onigiri there), so the chocolate would not melt.

The cherry trees finally stood full in bloom, the winter had been long and the trees' winter sleep had lasted long into April. The scene was like a cliché first school day anime scene. And Handa walked through the streets with a colourfully sprinkled cake, trying to blow the cherry blossom petals out of his face.

Cheerful voices in the air announced that the school was close. Since the sun had shown its face, it seemed like the student body had started to live. The new first years had finally begun to see the beauty that lay in their school and run around the grounds noisily (Toramaru was often among the, Handa noted bemused). Quickly Handa slid into the rundown clubroom – I twas newly built, why did it still look so bad? Sometimes Handa had the feeling, the chairman had rescued all the dust they had horded from the ruins of their clubhouse and dumped it in the new one. It was weird to see it so empty right now – it was supposed to be loud and full of people. The fridge stood abandoned in the corner.

Once Handa opened its door, he was greeted with lots of vegetables and fruits and juices and wondered why exactly it was all in there when all the managers ever made for them were onigiri and sports drinks. Maybe Natsumi liked to experiment with the stuff, everybody save your life!

After a bit of repositioning and sorting out (was that Kurimatsu's lunch from a month ago?) Handa was finally able to cramp in the baking tray. Maybe they should invest into a second one – they were (finally) a big club after all. The track and field club even owned three (Handa knew from the old times when they would sometimes get Kazemaru to train with them).

Max better be grateful for all the extra work he did for him.


"Happy Birthday!"

They were sweaty and tired but celebrating was something Raimon could do even after the hardest soccer match or the most exhausting practice. Cups were clinked, well it was only a dull sound but plastic cups was all they had, and everybody congratulated Max to turning 15. The midfielder did not look like it but was actually one of the oldest members together with Someoka, Gouenji and Kazemaru.

The managers had served his cake without thinking (Handa doubted they knew that he made the cake, his plan to gain attention did not go well right now) and everybody had a slice but nobody had tried it yet, except Shadow who had suspiciously poked it with his fork.

"A speech, Matsuno-sempai!", Shourin shouted from his position on Kabeyama's shoulder. The rest of the soccer club cheered. Endou pushed Max to one of the few stools standing around and Max climbed up. He held up his hands in and appeasing gesture.

"Thank you, guys, for setting all this up, it means a lot to me! A big thanks to the managers who supply us with drinks and cake!" Everybody applauded the four girls.

"Cake? I though you brought it along, Max", Aki said in a surprised tone. Max froze on the chair and blinked at the motherly manager. "I didn't."

Handa knew that was probably the point he should say something but when Shishido shouted: "Maybe it was a secret admirer!", he bit back the words he was about to say. Secret admirer, like hell he was.

"Maybe we shouldn't eat it", Kageno murmured from behind Handa. Since when was he even standing there?

Handa cleared his throat. "No need to panic, I made the cake." All heads turned around to look at him. Looking, more like staring. Like he came from the moon (or had tried to style his hair again).

"You bake?", Kidou finally spoke and gave him a calculating look (well, he always looked calculating with his goggles).

"Well, um, yeah, kind of, I guess." Handa was sure he was blushing beet-red because of all the stares right now – why would they not stop staring already?

"That's kinda girly, senpai", Kabeyama said lamely.

"You don't have to eat it!", Handa snapped, it's not like he stood in the kitchen for hours for his own entertainment! And here they were, not appreciating his hard work. See if he would do anything for them again.

Max coughed to direct the attention back to himself. "So, I guess this calls for an applause for my hard working housewife who supplied us with this wonderful cake."

The roomed burst with laughter, even the ever cool Gouenji let out a snort and Shadow could not suppress a grin. Housewife? What on earth?

Promptly Handa's blush returned. Huffing he turned around and crossed his arms. Ungrateful pack.


"Maybe you should practice more."

"I'll never bake again anyway, Max."

After a lot of teasing everybody had tried to cake. Max and Handa were currently walking home since Max had announced that he needed to go home to celebrate with his family.

"You left it in the oven so long, it was as crunchy as cornflakes."

"Shut up."