3 People could say about Kabeyama what they wanted. That he was a coward, that he surely neglected training judging by his strong stature, that he still continued to run to the toilet before every soccer match – he could achieve everything he actually put his will in. He had proven it several times, the first time with the Inazuma Otoshi. His arising career in the soccer youth league just underlined this fact.

Kabeyama might have been whiny but he was also headstrong. He would try and try, find the limit to his own abilities, break down and carry on. All to not disappoint his teammates. It was a trait that Handa lacked. For him it was good enough if his own abilities were counted as good enough if they did their job without any extras. Handa did not see any need to be good at everything, it was too much work. He was not a shooting star with the best grades like Kidou nor was he a total loser who was close to failing (dare he say, like Endou who spent long study nights with Kazemaru over mathematical formulas, not that Endou was a loser but his grades were speaking for themselves) – Shinichi Handa was normal.

And again this reminded him of his older brother. He managed to get top of his class most of the times in any subjects that were somehow related to science like chemistry or biology. While he lacked the same talent in anything close to languages, at least he had something he was good at. Handa did not. Because he was the ordinary, boring sibling who had the talent to at least not fail.

Out of this situation and the fact that Handa's new plan formed. If he was not even able to shine as somebody popular or good-looking, he would show people he was smart. Shinichi Handa would sit down on his sorry ass and study until it fell off. The next maths test was the perfect opportunity.

"Shinichi! Come down this instant and take out the trash!"

"But Mom! I'm studying!"

"Don't kid with me, you never study!"

Handa sighed. How he hated across-stories-shouting-matches with his mother. Through closed doors no less. Normally he would trudge down the stairs lazily at the first shout, not wanting to anger her more. But today was an exception. Today he was the one to study, to get a good grade and his brother could be the one to take care of the chores. Today he was not only motivated but also rebellious. Against his own mother, the dragon – a dragon much scarier than Smaug of the Lonely Mountain.

Simple equations were the new topic in class and so far he had been able to understand what the lessons had covered. With a bit of practice and after working out some examples from the maths book, Handa was sure to surprise everybody with more than his usual 65 (in words: average) percent.

"Shinichi!" His mother threw open the door to his room, resulting in his sportsbag which hung behind the door to fall to the floor and spill its contents across it. The woman stopped in her tracks when she saw her son sitting at his desk, startled by the loud noise (actually he was crawling under his desk to retrieve the pencil he had thrown away out of surprise). "You actually are studying", his mother noted. Her eyes narrowed, slowly observing her son, clearly not knowing what to say. She thew him a last glance while Handa braced himself for the inevitable shout before she turned on her heels and left the blue painted room. Handa could hear her pestering his brother about the garbage in the next room (which must have been a first, considering it was Handa's task) and the older boy's complaints.

Never before had Handa felt so positive about a test – he had been able to at least write something for every question on the sheet and it had even made sense! And all that in Maths. Maths! He would definitely score sky-high. (Or at least in the "good" category.) And also never before had Handa ever look forward to getting back a test. The whole week his mood was as good as the weather was bad. He excelled at his short quiz in English where even he usually had troubles to reach an ordinary result and even managed that his Rolling Kick had somehow ended up as something like a weaker version of Odin Sword. Handa still did not have the slightest idea how that had happened – the team had been equally stunned. Endou had forgotten to bring out a hissatsu and had to leave practice with a badly bruised face. Even though he had insisted that he was completely fine and had complemented Handa's shoot while trying to fend off the managers who had come to his aid with an army of ice packs.

When their maths teacher finally entered the classroom with a stack of papers, her heels clicking on the wooden floor, Handa could not suppress a grin – here came the proof of his intelligence and motivation. For the last week he had focused his whole existence on one single thing – this test.

Since the midfield sat at the back, it took quite a while for his teacher to finally arrive at his seat. Whenever she returned the tests to a good student or those who managed to exceed her expectations this time, she gave them a tiny but warm smile. It was rare and Handa had never managed to elicit one before.

The woman fished out his sheet from the stack and placed it wordlessly on his desk. Without the smile. Handa glanced at the top right corner. 69. Average.

4 Handa was devastated to say the least. He had studied for hours every day but only to improve his resulted in the damned subject by four points. What exactly was studying good for if it resulted in the same thing? So maybe motivation was not Handa's strong point. Kabeyama's name was crossed from the list. And next was...

Kageno.

Handa eyed the name shortly before shaking his head and crossing it out, too. While he was desperate to be noticed, he was not that invisible yet.