And bonk! A thwap on the head dislodges the last ball from Seifer's helmet. As the foamy sphere lands in Neo's hands, the referee blows their shrill whistle.

"Seifer has run out of points. Neo wins!"

Cheers spread across the Sandlot. Though a certain corner yells in disapproval, one girl's cheers ring louder than the rest. When the crowd calms and only her clapping remains, Naminé reddens.

Neo, like the dramatic twerp he is, bows to the spectators before he departs to his friends. "Easy! Bracket B is mine."

Roxas fistbumps Neo as he heads out to stomp Bracket C. "I'll see you in the finals?"

"Bet on it."

The crowd swells again as Roxas approaches. Between the heads of more spectators, he can just barely spot Hayner opposite Roxas. How lucky their ragtag group managed to snag their own bench at all. Front and back and side to side, all these people unsettle Vanitas.

Neo squeezes back onto the packed bench in the space left behind. He wipes of sweat with a towel Naminé hands him. The bench, and Vanitas along with it, rattle when Neo plonks down.

With the return of the whistle, brief silence falls. "For the final fight of Bracket C, fan-favourite title-taker Roxas! Against him, the perpetual underdog Hayner! Who will win this battle of friends?!" ("Not cool," Hayner protests).

The perpetual clapping and screeching is getting to Vanitas' head. Especially when it comes from right next to him. In addition, craning his neck so far up, even on Naminé's shoulder, isn't what he'd consider comforable. Atleast their fervor is a little infectious. And this sport as a whole rather cathartic.

"Everyone, get ready… to struggle!"

Similar to Vanitas, a child, perched on her mother's lap, stretches upward to see the happenings. She sniffles at the noise, yet cranes higher. There she sees something more interesting than sports: a little kitty! Cute, she thinks. Her mother pays little attention, instead chosing to listen to the announcer. That's when the girl rears up on her tippy toes.

She pets, or more aptly, hits the cute cat with childish and ill-controlled strength.

Several things happen at once. Vanitas yowls. The girl stumbles in suprise. Her mother catches her, but Naminé jerks around to see the commotion. Vanitas falls from his already perilious perch on all fours in the sand. One of his legs bends too far and his head hits the ground.

"Careful there, little miss!" Lea snaps around at the noise, already taking stock of the situation. When he stands to chide the child, something other than gravel crunches beneath his boots. Whatever it is swiftly exits, pulling Lea with it to the ground.

Next, for no reason Lea can discern, Vanilla rears up, yowls again, and darts away through the crowd. One of his ears bent oddly.

"Vanilla!" Squirming out between her friends proves fruitless for Naminé, packed like a sardine. Neo's attempts end with him unable to put his feet anywhere besides other people's bags. At least the girl who started this manages to sit back down at behest of her fretting parents.

"I'll apologize to him for you, okay?" Lea must've been a babysitter in a past life, because the girl nods instead of crying. He finger-guns at his friends. "Hold my seat for me? I'll find him easy peasy." Much like the child, Naminé also does not cry. A total win for Lea.

With his wry frame and great reach bestowed upon him by fate and also genetics, Lea slinks away between the benches. When he finally has room for his elbows to exist again, Roxas hits Hayner mid-spin in the arena. Attaboy.

Roxas gives a thumbs-up in return. During the brief shared look, Hayner gracefully nails Roxas in the gut. Lea distinctly hears Olette cheer.

Further and further away, the sounds of the crowd fade. Everywhere is a ghost town by comparison, with only few stragglers not going insane over Struggle. Even in the comparative quiet, Lea hears and sees nothing cat-like.

Time to put his.. eclectic skill set to the test. By, of course, talking to the first person he sees. Lea has no reason to hide from anyone or anything! Dubiously aquired tracking skills are just not needed these days.

First order of business: the ice cream lady, gaze cast back and forth between her cart and the street leading uphill.

"Hello there, ma'am!" How nice recon is when you can talk to people.

Her fretting ceases for a moment. "Hello yourself, Lea! The usual?"

"Maybe later. Have you seen a cat around?"

She lights up. "The black one flitting by?" Bingo.

"With a ribbon redder than my hair?"

"Yes, that's the one! Is it hurt? Is it yours?"

"A friend's." Lea slides his hands into his pockets. "I must've stepped on his tail or something."

"The poor dear headed toward the train station." The woman gestures uphill. "I hope you find him soon."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll swing by again once I do." After a polite wave, Lea power-walks up the street, only running once he's out of sight. The brat's fast. Cats are sprinters, Lea recalls, so he can't have gone too far before tiring out. Humans have superior endurance. If he went down to the tunnels though…

In an unsuprising turn of events, Naminé worries. "It'll be fine," Xion says, "Vanilla just got spooked."

Vanilla had been less spooked getting hurled through the air. "He doesn't like strangers, I think. I should've gone after him."

"Last time, he ran off because he got bored." Neo fondly recalls the time Vanilla was cuddled to death. "The crowd's probably the real problem."

Sure enough, with two local celebrities tearing up, it only grew busier. The only people who can efficiently get through that either had to be ruthless enough to shove past, as small as Vanilla, or as tall as Lea. Though Neo likely belongs to the first category, last time something like this happened turned out fine enough.

Naminé drops her face into her hands. "What if he can't defend himself? He could get in trouble!"

"You do remember that he can send people screaming?" Neo disagrees. If anyone knows how capable Vanilla is, it's his part-time rival Neo. "He's got something up his sleeve for sure."

Even without context, Xion nods. "Believe in Lea, too! He'll find Vanilla before you know it! Besides, we cleaned up the monsters here long ago. Including the sewers."

Naminé snorts. "Thank you." Then, her expression freezes. A realization has hit, and it hit hard. "What if… he gets out of range?"

"Out of range for what?" Xion asks.

In a different medium, Naminé's and Neo's thought bubbles would burst into dramatic tears and screams. In this format, they settle for gritting their teeth at each other, and mouthing,

"The illusion spell!"

With a terrain advantage and pretty good stamina, Lea finally herds the little shadow into a dead end in the tunnels. Except, except Lea is thinking. For a cat, Vanilla put up a pretty good fight. Lea's seen the guy feint his turns, or squeeze down paths Lea can't take.

That thing's smart. Back at the sewers, too. He asked Naminé to carry him. And seeing a cat at the very least feign investment in Struggle matches is pretty rare.

However, Lea tellls himself that this is paranoia. He does not need to be on lookout for traitors 24/7. Alas, old habits die hard. No, Neo's bickering doesn't mean he wants to legitimately maim Roxas. No, Naminé is not getting close to Xion for some revenge plot against Lea. No, this cat isn't some agent of darkness, sent to make Lea pay for his sins.

Except. Except cats don't listen to other people. Have you ever seen a cat listen? Ever told a cat to do something specific and it did without a minor miracle and treats? What sort of cat apparently offers sports commentary?

So. Dear old Lea started using his noggin as soon as that cat danced onto the stage. And he concluded-

as his phone's flashlight shines on Vanilla, and something shatters, and Lea sees how exactly he managed to step on its ears,

that's not a cat at all.