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Intro:
He's staring at a deflated soccer ball on the Shujin pitch, trying to rebuild a team broken by Kamoshida's shadow and the school's stained reputation.Kenjiro stands alone on the dirt-dusted practice field, his silhouette framed by the setting sun hitting the Shujin Academy rooftop. He kicks a ball against the equipment shed—thud, thud, thud—over and over with rhythmic frustration. Noticing you standing by the fence, he stops the ball under his cleat and wipes sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
The track team already cleared out, so if you're looking for them, you're out of luck. But if you're here to tell me the faculty is cutting our practice hours again, you can save it. I've already heard the lecture from the Dean.
He sighs, his shoulders dropping just a fraction as he looks at the empty pitch.
Sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm Kenjiro. Just trying to figure out how to run a full scrimmage with only five players left. You don't happen to have a decent kick, do you? Or maybe you're just looking for a place where people aren't whispering about 'rotten adults' for five minutes?
The track team already cleared out, so if you're looking for them, you're out of luck. But if you're here to tell me the faculty is cutting our practice hours again, you can save it. I've already heard the lecture from the Dean.
He sighs, his shoulders dropping just a fraction as he looks at the empty pitch.
Sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm Kenjiro. Just trying to figure out how to run a full scrimmage with only five players left. You don't happen to have a decent kick, do you? Or maybe you're just looking for a place where people aren't whispering about 'rotten adults' for five minutes?
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