Kicked Out of the Bottom Soccer Team, I Found My Strength Thanks to My Beautiful Junior Manager. What Began as a Simple Act of Kindness Turned into Her Coming Over Every Day. - Chapter 7: Making the Beautiful Junior Manager Cry.

Chapter 7: Making the Beautiful Junior Manager Cry.

Once the meal was complete, Takumi and Kana sat across from each other at the dining table.

She seemed to have only been pretending to be angry earlier. By the time they began serving the food, her eyes were sparkling as she exclaimed, “This looks delicious!”

“Let’s eat.”

“Thanks for the meal~! …Mmm, it’s so good!”

After taking a sip of the tomato soup, Kana’s eyes softened into a blissful smile. Seeing such a happy expression on her face, Takumi couldn’t help but smile as well.

“I’m glad. Thanks for helping me cook.”

“No, thank you for letting me intrude and even treating me to dinner. I really appreciate it.”

Kana set down her chopsticks and spoon, then gave a polite little bow.

She could be playful and energetic at times, but her polite and proper manners in moments like these were one of her most endearing traits.

After finishing the meal while exchanging thoughts on the food and quickly washing the dishes together, Kana suddenly grew serious.

“Senpai—”

“Hm?”

When Takumi turned around, Kana took a small breath to steady her nerves and lightly licked her lips.

“Are you… really going to quit?”

“…That’s what I was planning.”

“……”

The moment Takumi affirmed it after a short pause, Kana blinked repeatedly and clenched her fists tightly. Her face looked like she was on the verge of tears.

Even so, she bit her lip and let her gaze wander across the table as if searching for the right words.

“Um… When you decided to quit, was it purely because of the technical side of things? Not because the atmosphere became uncomfortable or anything?”

“Yeah. If I were as skilled as everyone else, I wouldn’t even consider quitting no matter what happened.”

Takumi answered decisively.

Kana lowered her gaze in thought and gently clasped her fingers together on her lap. In a quiet voice, she asked:

“…This might be really rude of me, but may I ask something?”

“Of course.”

“……Thank you.”

Kana’s eyes widened in surprise at his immediate reply, then she gave a small, relieved smile. After another short breath, she spoke softly.

“Senpai, if you had to choose between stubbornly pursuing the style of play you truly want but never seeing results, or giving up on your ideal style to focus on what you’re naturally good at and actually producing results—which would you prefer?”

“The latter… I think. Without some kind of results, it’s easy to get discouraged.”

That was exactly why he had decided to quit the sport he loved so much.

“I see… That makes sense.”

Kana nodded once, her expression softening slightly.

“Then isn’t it the same with soccer?”

“Eh?”

Takumi blinked in confusion.

“Even when you tried to play the same style as everyone else, you couldn’t produce the results you wanted. But maybe that’s not because you’re unsuited for soccer. Maybe it’s because you haven’t yet found the style that truly suits you.”

“Ah…”

A small sound of realization escaped Takumi’s lips.

Kana continued, her gaze earnest and unwavering.

“If that’s the case, then maybe you don’t have to play exactly like everyone else. You have your own unique weapons, senpai. Don’t you think it’s worth trying to find a style of play that brings those out to their fullest? Everyone’s different, and that’s what makes it beautiful. There’s nothing wrong with being a specialist in one area. After all, soccer isn’t an individual sport.”

“It’s not ‘Kaneko Mizu’—it’s ‘Kaneko Misuzu’… but yeah, that perspective never occurred to me.”

It was as if scales had fallen from his eyes.

Up until now, Takumi had only focused on reaching the same level as those around him. He had believed that anything beyond that—expressing his own individuality—was out of the question.

Kana’s expression softened as she let out a gentle smile.

“You have such high soccer IQ, senpai, and you instantly grasp the situation around you. That’s why so many different plays you want to try probably pop into your head, right?”

“Yeah… but in the end, my body and technique can’t keep up with those ideals, and I end up making mistakes.”

When Takumi shrugged, Kana nodded firmly.

“Exactly. There were so many moments where I thought, ‘I know what he wants to do.’ But someone like you could definitely come up with surprising plays that no one else would ever think of.”

“I see…”

Takumi rested his hand on his chin, deep in thought.

Kana scratched her cheek apologetically.

“Sorry. I’m talking big even though I don’t have any concrete ideas.”

“No…”

Takumi lowered his eyes and pondered. In just those few seconds, an image of a playing style only he could pull off had already begun to take shape in his mind.

(This might actually work…!)

A warmth spread through his chest. This rising excitement—it had been a long time since he had felt anything like it.

He looked up and met Kana’s eyes with a challenging smile.

“Thank you, Shirayuki. You gave me a reason to keep playing soccer.”

“…Eh?”

Kana looked dazed for a moment, then her eyes flew wide open. She drew in a sharp breath as if confirming something—and then leaned forward eagerly.

“S-Senpai! Does that mean—!”

“Yeah. I’ll try continuing for a little longer. I don’t know if I can do it, but I want to search for my own style of play.”

“……I’m so glad…!”

Fresh tears overflowed from her deep ruby-colored eyes.

Takumi panicked.

“Eh, wait—why are you crying!?”

“S-Sorry… I just felt so relieved… When you said you were quitting earlier, you looked so hurt…!”

“Hey, don’t rub your eyes like that!”

As Kana roughly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, Takumi quickly pressed a handkerchief into it. However, her sobbing didn’t stop easily.

(What should I do…?)

He had almost no experience dealing with a crying girl in his life. He had no idea how to handle this.

“Um… Shirayuki. Are you okay?”

“I’m not okay…! Whose fault do you think it is that I’m like this…!?”

“S-Sorry.”

Still sniffling, Kana grabbed Takumi’s arm and guided his hand straight to her own head.

(This… means she wants me to pat her head… right?)

He asked himself silently, unsure of the correct response. Kana’s hand remained firmly on top of his, guiding it.

(…I guess I have no choice but to do it.)

Takumi slowly began to move his hand.

Kana stayed silent, simply entrusting herself to the motion. It seemed he had guessed correctly.

(Wow, her hair really is silky smooth… Wait, no—that’s not what I should be thinking about right now…)

Despite his confusion, Takumi continued gently stroking Kana’s head until her tears finally subsided.

***

She was probably embarrassed about having cried so hard.

Just as her parents seemed to have returned home, Kana—her cheeks flushed so deeply it looked like she might have a fever—energetically bowed and shouted, “Thank you so much!” before practically fleeing the apartment.

Should he apologize? But what exactly should he apologize for—?

As Takumi was worrying over this, a message from Kana arrived.

‘I’m sorry for running away after you took such good care of me… The food was delicious, and I was really happy when you said you wouldn’t quit! I’m sorry for being so selfish and causing you trouble…’

The message included a heart emoji and ended with a sweating face emoticon. He knew the heart was just for decoration and not a sign of romantic affection, but at least she didn’t seem angry.

In that case, he should reply with both an apology and gratitude.

‘Sorry for all the trouble on my end too. Thanks to you, Shirayuki, I’m able to think positively again. Thank you!’

After sending it, the message was marked as read a short while later.

‘I’m glad I could help! I believe you can do it, senpai, so please do your best!’

‘Thanks! I have a vague idea already, and since tomorrow’s a day off, I’ll think about it more.’

‘As expected! By the way, senpai. We didn’t finish our conversation from this morning, right? Can we continue?’

Takumi replied immediately, and Kana responded right away.

The “this morning” conversation probably referred to the one they had before supplementary lessons. It had indeed ended somewhat abruptly.

‘Of course, that’s fine.’

‘Yay! So about the first half of the Manchester Derby—’

From that point on, Takumi and Kana exchanged messages at a speed that felt like they were talking right next to each other.

At this rate, it might be more efficient to just call—

The thought crossed Takumi’s mind, but he reconsidered. Her parents were home, and after crying earlier, she might feel embarrassed talking directly over the phone.

‘By the way, did you finish your supplementary lesson homework?’

The conversation finally ended after Takumi sent that message around 11 PM. To be precise, Kana had replied ‘I’ll do it later!’ but Takumi had gently scolded her with ‘Do your homework first.’

After sending ‘Let’s talk again sometime. Good night’ in response to her barrage of crying stickers, Takumi set his phone down and began frantically jotting down ideas in his notebook. Once he had written down all his scattered thoughts and ideas, he told himself he would continue tomorrow and went to bed.

***

Two days later, on the morning after his day off.

Takumi was getting ready with the nervous feeling of a new student who had enrolled in a high school where he had no local friends—perhaps with even stronger anxiety—when the intercom rang.

(Who could that be? I didn’t order anything… Hm?)

The first thing that filled the screen was a bright red demon face.

Of course, it wasn’t real. He immediately realized it was a paper mask.

Takumi stared not at the demon face itself, but at the vibrant red hair peeking out from behind the mask, and asked:

“Good morning, Shirayuki. What’s up?”

‘…Good morning.’

After a brief pause, Kana’s clearly displeased voice came through the intercom.