A/N: Woo time for this to get started (the base story is set, so the plot is coming around soon muahaha). Thank you once again to my lovely reviewers; you really do make my day! Read along and enjoy :)

I was well enough to scout the games that weekend, having taken a full week off classes to recover from the blasted flu. I swathed myself up in my winter clothes, because despite the usually humid rainy season, it was rather cold on Saturday. I brought my notebook and my usual bag, ready to settle down somewhere with a good seat to evaluate opponents.

"…don't make me laugh, Tetsu! We'll smash them!"

Daiki's voice reached me as I was walking towards the gate I needed access to for prime note taking positions. I looked around for a moment – and spotted the group towering over everyone else without much effort. Midorima was the first to notice me, and he elbowed Daiki and nodded to me. I'd be lying if I was to say the way his whole face lit up didn't make me happy in turn.

"Dai-chan!"

"Satsuki!"

We called out at the same time, and I hurriedly made my way over to the team, "Good luck!"

"We don't need it," Daiki grinned.

"Thank you very much, Momoi," said Midorima, a bright pink stuffed rabbit tucked under his arm.

I shrugged and smiled, "I'm excited to see you play! Do your best!"

"Yes," it was Akashi who spoke then, eyeing out my notebook, "do you mind if I take a look at that, Momoi-san?"

I hesitated – would he think my predictions were creepy? And then I realised it was Akashi. King of creepiness. Without further ado I handed it over and turned back to Daiki and Tetsu, "So, Ōnita College today, huh?"

Tetsu was indifferent, but Daiki seemed a little surprised that I knew anything, and so I proceeded to rattle off the other matches going on and which ones were a potential threat (hence the matches I'd be watching).

"… well, I don't believe they'll be able to predict anything at the rate they're going, their coach doesn't like to hold sessions on Fridays because it interferes with his son's soccer schedule, so the team is lacking in stamina and some players struggle with even the basics. They'll be crushed in the first round, so-"

I realised suddenly that I'd been talking without being interrupted for a while – and looked up to see all six members of the first string staring down at me, varying ranges of surprise splashed across their faces.

"Eh…" I trailed off, bringing up a hand to fiddle with my fuzzy white beanie, "I'll… uh… go back to the stands-" before I could spin around completely, a hand shot out and latched on to my forearm in an iron grip, wrenching me to meet the mismatched eyes of the Captain.

"You're coming on to the courts with us. You'll be able to analyse better up close, no?"

For a moment all I could think about was the bruise I'd have on my arm from his deceptively elegant hand, but then I nodded and shrugged, "Sure. What do I say if I'm asked-"

"Manager," blurted Daiki suddenly, "you're our manager."

I didn't know just what the title entailed, but I nodded nevertheless, and struggled not to sigh in relief as Akashi relinquished his grip, commanding us to move forward. I fell into step beside Daiki, and felt my face beginning to blush as our hands brushed – and then we stepped onto the courts and I was on full alert.

I didn't spend much time watching my own team play – no, instead I turned my attention to the other three matches taking place. Our team smashed their opposition, but I didn't have time to congratulate them, immersed as I was in deconstructing the defensive technique of a rather ruthless team in black. I retreated to the stands as the team went home, taking excessive notes on every game I could. I stood just before the end of the last match to ask the management team of the first round to give me a copy of all of the games, when –

"Ah, I thought you'd take longer," the yawn came from the seat beside me.

"Ki-chan?" I looked down at the model, confused, "When did you get there? Has Daiki taped his knee yet? Did Midorin make sure to tape his fingers? What about you, how're your ankles? And Mukkun, he's got all his snacks?"

The blond blinked up at me for a moment before – "I've been here the whole time, Momoicchi! They all went to rest, but I was in best condition because they played Kurokocchi and me both. Aominecchi was worried about leaving you alone, so I volunteered to watch the matches with you!"

It took me a moment to comprehend what he was telling me around all the information I'd collected, but I nodded nevertheless, and offered him an apologetic smile, "Sorry, Ki-chan! I get a little carried away. Thank you for staying with me, but I'm just going to collect a copy of today's matches. You don't have to wait back for me!"

"No, no, no," he smiled cheerily and stood, "I'll take you as far as the station, at least."

I nodded and let him follow me to the administrative desk, where I politely threatened to release information on their occupational health and safety procedures if they didn't make copies of the matches immediately. Within ten minutes we were walking out of the entertainment centre and headed to the station in the rain.

"That was quite something, Momoicchi!" laughed the vertically blessed man, "I'd never have thought someone as sweet as you to be capable of that!"

I rolled my eyes at his naïveté and patted him on the back as we stepped onto the train together, "Ki-chan, you get special treatment because you're a friend – and one of Daiki's teammates, too."

A moment passed where we took a seat together, and exchanged snacks before Kise said, "He really thinks the world of you, you know?"

I raised a brow and shrugged, "I made him notes to pass his tests. I think he's more grateful than anything."

Kise looked down at me, strangely expressionless. It worried me enough for him to notice, and soon he smiled and chuckled, "Ah. He does go on about how 'modest' and 'sweet' and 'strong' you are. I guess he was right."

If he was trying to make me blush, it was working.

"Does…" three seconds of trying to beat down my curiosity – three seconds to fail, "does he really say that?"

"He doesn't need too."

I wasn't stupid enough to have to ask what he meant. We parted ways at central station and I was home quite late – but as on a roll as I was, I hurried to watch all the matches again, taking notes even on the losing teams. After I was done, I computerised my results into tables and charts and graphs, splaying my predictions on the last few pages as well as suggestions and a list of things not done as well as they should have been by our team.

I was half way through printing out multiple and master copies (printing on paper to match the first-string's hair colours) when I realised that my eyes were practically burning every time I blinked. With a sigh I switched the pale yellow paper to a soft fuchsia and let several dozens of Akashi's statistics copy on to paper. After he was done (as the last of the first string), I chose colours that aligned with the university colours, and printed out from least threatening to most threatening teams. All the data was interlinked, so an indicator on Daiki's data referenced a later page of data, where he could flip straight to the team to see their abilities, and understand how his performance would be received.

Deciding that I'd leave the stapling to a later hour of the morning, I dropped down on to my bed and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.