"Two o'clock, huh?" Togano said after flipping his phone open. "Should we go home and sleep already?"

Togano, Kuroki, and Jyuumonji were hanging outside of a convenience store, pulling an all-nighter. Though Jyuumonji, the one with the most powerful conscience and has a heart of a leader, would have been expected to sleep early, wake up early, and train early, he that entirely good. The boy was still a delinquent by nature, so he wouldn't really be following the protocol.

Said boy snorted amusedly. "Going to bed early, huh?"

Before Togano had the chance to respond, a loud, "WAKING UP EARLY SURE FEELS GOOD!" boomed behind them, scaring them.

Lo and behold Kurita and Komusubi jogging together, wearing nothing but sweats and short-sleeved shirts in the cold, cold, cold morning.

"M-morning practice!" Komusubi chimed.

As they continued, they saw a lithe figure before them. There, it was Yukimitsu. No one can ever miss out his big, balding head.

"Ah, good morning!" Kurita called, huffing because he was out of breath. "Did you wake up at two to do some early morning practice as well, Yukimitsu-kun?"

When he didn't respond, Kurita and Komusubi exchanged looks. They decided to push on with their jogging, so when they passed Yukimitsu, they were shocked to see the dead look on the poor boy's face.

"AAAH!" they screamed.

Yukimitsu promptly fell on his face.

"Y-Y-Yukimitsu-kuuun!" Kurita wailed. "Are you alright?"

Yukimitsu groaned, blinking out of his bleary eyes. "I-is it already past midnight…?" he muttered. "That's right…before I collapsed…"

"T-then…You've been running since yesterday?" Kurita asked incredulously, adding two and two together. "How can you overwork yourself!"

"It's because…I don't have much time left…" Yukimitsu buried his face against the pavement, before confessing. "During the game, I was the only one benched during the whole play…I was jealous of everyone…"

"That's right!" Kurita then cheered, abruptly happy about how someone would be so dedicated to working hard so he could join with the team. It nearly brought tears to his eyes. "It's more fun to participate with everyone! I'll go ask Hiruma-kun."

Yukimitsu's head snapped upwards, eyes wide with shock. "Ah, n-no! That's not what I meant! It—it's just that I lack real strength, I understand! Besides, if I asked Hiruma-kun, then surely I would not be able to play…"

"Mmm, that's true…"

"Although it'd be impossible for me to play in next week's match, there's always three months till the Fall Tournament…" Yukimitsu pushed himself up, overexerting himself. "And that is…the very last chance for me…"

Then he fainted.

"…"

"Oh my," Kurita sighed. He and Komusubi picked the balding boy up and proceeded with their running, not noticing the three delinquents looking behind them with amazement.

Jyuumonji woke up in a bad mood, remembering what his father had said to him about his friends being trash. 'Che, as if the old bastard knows better,' he thought, scowling.

He and his two friends were on their way to school, and suddenly Kuroki had his eye on something.

"Oh?"

It was the Monthly American Football Magazine.

"Are we in it?" Togano asked as Jyuumonji plucked the booklet from the counter.

"We won against the watermelon-head dude in the end, didn't we?" Kuroki said.

Jyuumonji couldn't say as he read.

'Players Kurita, Komusubi, and Jyuumonji showed us some very good plays, but Kuroki and Togano were complete failures. It's impossible for the Devil Bats to triumph with these two.'

"Hey, lemme see that!"

"What does it say, huh?"

Jyuumonji slammed the magazine down in rage.

"That only we three were crap," he lied.

"Huh?"

"HUUUH?"

"We won't allow them to write shit about us ever again," Jyuumonji promised to himself and to the others. "Come on! Let's go to practice!"

Today, Akaba Junko was here to teach Sena how to do ballet.

It was ridiculous, really.

"First position, second position, third position, fourth position," the girl instructed, brushing her ringlets over her shoulder.

'This is embarrassing,' Sena inwardly cried. Doing funky-looking moves from capoeira was bad enough, but ballet? Oh, now hell has taken its stroll from here.

"Step one, over two, step three, over four."

'UUUGH.'

Well, at least Hiruma wasn't there to mock her…

"Hiruma, you BASTARD! What the hell are you doing with that camera?" demanded Junko.

"Of course he had to video this," Sena sighed, hanging her head. "Of course."

"Kekekeke!"

"Ah, screw him," the taller girl sniffed, raising her nose in the air indifferently. "Now, I want to see a demi-plie. Come on. Stand. Squat one, up two, squat three, up four."

When the session was over ('YES! YES!YES!'), Sena could have jumped up for joy! Except, she wasn't able to jump…but no matter! She bid Junko farewell and gratitude, in which the girl returned with a nod, and marched back to the field. Mamori was there to greet her with a smile.

"How was today's lesson?" she asked.

Sena shrugged. "Meh."

"That bad, huh?"

"Ugh."

"Oi, fucking shrimp!" Hiruma hollered to her, gesturing her to come over with one free hand (the other was steadying a large rocket launcher on his shoulder).

Sena groaned, but followed the order nonetheless. She later found herself standing in between Monta and Yukimitsu on the field, facing Hiruma and his evil, evil, evil smirk. Sena did not like the way things were going.

"I don't think this is—" She never got to finish her sentence when the boys suddenly ran backwards. 'What the?'

And the rocket launcher exploded right before her eyes.

"Sena!"

"HIII!" Sena flew across the field, and landed roughly on her back. Staring dazedly into the sky, she saw black specs pervading her vision. Eventually, she saw faces.

"I think you've overdid it, Hiruma-sempai," Monta's voice said.

"Hiruma-kun! I cannot believe you just did that!" Mamori's voice screamed.

"Shut up, the shrimp will be fine," drawled Hiruma's voice.

A cold hand felt her forehead.

"It doesn't seem as though she has a concussion," Yukimitsu's voice said. "But just to be safe, I believe it's best for her to rest."

"I bloody do need rest," she grumbled aloud, then moaning when she felt pain on her tailbone.

"Sena!" Suddenly, Monta's face was very close to hers. "You're alive."

"I am," she grunted, feeling irritable, especially towards Hiruma. "Get off."

For the rest of training, Sena was allowed to recover. Mamori was still getting on Hiruma's case, much to Sena's pleasure, and Monta and Yukimitsu were training together. Sena knew that Ishimaru had the track team to tend to, so that was why he wasn't here currently.

What got her attention the most, however, were the linebackers. Strangely, they were working exceptionally hard. The Huh Huh Bros were really putting effort into training, it seemed like it. Sena, not in the least, was utterly stunned by their performance. Did they take an alteration in personality or something?

Mamori, on the other hand, seemed to expect it.

"The team's becoming united," the older girl whispered to Sena when they saw that the delinquent trio had found themselves their very own locker inside the changing room.

"You'd think that they'd back out," Sena said, "with sharing one locker and all, but surprisingly they kept it together."

Monta began to prattle about something, like the three extra lockers they had, and that was when Sena's eyes drifted down to the black block that sat on a shelf. 'That thing's always been here,' she thought, picking it up.

"What do you have there, Sena?" Mamori plucked the item from her fingers and exclaimed, "Oh! It's a press-kicktee!"

"A presser-wee-wee-wah?"

"No, silly. A press-kicktee. When it's time to make a kick during the game, it's a stand to hold the ball down. Until now, there's been nothing for the ball except to lean on a tile."

Kurita, who was walking by behind her, gasped softly and stuttered, "Th-That k-kicktee…"

"Leave that kicktee here, fucking manager," Hiruma deadpanned, a blank face registering on his face. "Don't touch it."

Mamori seemed to be rather put off because she marched right over to Hiruma's hunched form, placing her fists on her waist, and admonished, "You don't have to talk like that! Mou! Being rude to everyone!"

Sena rolled her eyes. 'Ugh. They're fighting again.'

"It's Musashi's personal property," Hiruma said.

The look on Mamori's face was that of genuine shock. Sena was shocked herself, but only because of how mentioning this Musashi person was so relevant. Monta, who stood next to her, murmured, "Musashi?"

"I see," Mamori said despondently, putting back the kicktee. "I'm sorry."

'Musashi. Musashi. Musashi. Musashi. Hmm…Where did I hear that name before?' Sena tapped her finger against her noggin. 'Wait, it was written on that television with Hiruma and Kurita's names on it!'

"WHOA!" crowed the Huh Huh Bros. "WHAT AN AWESOME KICK!"

It was coming from outside. Voices carried on from the field about some amazing guy who started kicking high kicks. Kurita's eyes widened, shining with hope, as he whispered, "Musashi?" before racing off. Monta followed after him. Sena decided that it would be better if she would walk instead.

Everyone else also went to the field to see what was going on. Sena clung onto Mamori and asked, "Who's this Musashi?"

"You've met him before, Sena."

She blinked. "I have?"

"Yes, he's Takekura Gen, the boy who was helping us with the construction on the changing room."

It sounded funny how Mamori could refer Takekura as a BOY, but he was seventeen-years old, after all, despite his elderly appearance.

Sena frowned. "But if he's Musashi, then I'm assuming that he was once part of the Devil Bats, right?"

"Right."

"Then why isn't he on the team now? Why did Kurita-san and Hiruma…san go all brooding over Musashi?"

Mamori looked uncomfortable. "Well, that's because—"

A hand clasped over her mouth. "Don't tell her, fucking manager," Hiruma said, shooting Sena a glare. Sena flinched. "She doesn't need to know."

'Okay, that's it,' Sena thought with determination, 'I'm going to ask Takekura-san to get to the bottom of this.'

…

….

…..

'After I see what the hub-bub is on about.'

Sena quickened her pace to match with the others.

Standing in the middle of the field was a guy, kicking footballs through the goal. He was met with cheering for per goal made, and he didn't even acknowledge them because he was too busy combing his hair back. What struck Sena the most were his long legs.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Kurita hobbling through the crowd, pushing people out of the way by using his round tummy. With one push, he rolled himself into the field while yelling, "Musashi!" Stumbling before the guy, realization drifted. "You're not…Musashi…"

"Sasaki Kotaro," Hiruma read from his black book, much to the kicker's shock. "Player of the Bando Spiders. TFP rate…hundred percent."

"WHAT!" was the collected gasp. Sena inched away to not be seen with them.

"I've never missed one since I was born," Sasaki Kotaro snorted, whipping out his comb. "Ain't I so awesome?"

'What's with men and their egos?'

"So, what do you want us for, fucking sideburns?" Hiruma asked, inserting gum into his mouth.

"I heard about the 60-yard Magnum," he said, putting down another football. "A guy called Musashi at Deimon, who, in an urban legend, successfully made a sixty-yard field goal."

"Wait, sixty yards equal fifty-five meters…The Japanese record was fifty-eight meters," Yukimitsu said, amazed.

"Urban legend?" Sena muttered skeptically.

"Yeah, that's right!" Kotaro snapped. "I said legend! Now, who's the moron who doubted me?"

Hiruma grabbed her wrist and held it up, chuckling.

"Hiruma!" Sena cried, struggling. "What are you—"

"So it was you!" Kotaro pointed his comb at her, threateningly-like. "You were the one who…!" He paused, took a moment to scan her face, and then gasped. "I know you!"

"Uhh…"

"You're the one Junko's been teaching to!"

Hiruma dropped her wrist. "You know the fucking brat?" he said, arching a brow.

"Yeah, I know her. She's the sister of the captain of the team." Kotaro scowled and rolled the football underneath his foot. "In fact, I'm here to pick up that bitch, but I don't know where the hell she is! I've been here for, what, thirty minutes? Yeah, thirty minutes, and she's not here!"

"Erm, how do you know Sena, anyway? Does Sena's teacher talk a lot about her?" Monta asked.

"Nah, her brother does," he said dismissively.

Sena cringed. "Creeeper…"

"I second that," Monta added, shuddering.

"No man, you got it all wrong."

"Excuse me, but I couldn't help but overhear on what you just said." Mamori came through the crowd. "You said that Akaba Junko's brother talks about Sena frequently?"

Sena gulped. 'Uh oh.'

"Yeah, babe, he does," Kotaro went on, oblivious to the atmosphere. "Like, all the time. Kinda weird though, since the guy only carries photos of her and yet have never met her before, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I think that I do," Mamori said, smiling.

Everyone else tensed. Hiruma was smirking.