The field was nearly empty now, the echo of earlier practice fading into the cool evening air. The coach was by the sideline, packing up cones and equipment into the large mesh bag, the faint creak of the metal bleachers behind them and the distant hum of cars on the street mixing into the quiet. The golden glow of the setting sun stretched across the grass, casting long shadows across the field.

The coach had just slung the bag over their shoulder when footsteps crunched against the turf. Turning, they saw Aoi jogging toward them. Her jersey clung tightly to her frame, sweat soaking through and darkening the fabric in patches. Her hair was pulled back, though a few loose strands stuck to her flushed face, and her breath came in heavy, uneven pulls.

She stopped just a few feet away, almost as if she had been running after the coach before they could leave. For a moment, she hesitated, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist, her chest rising and falling quickly.

"Coach... please, can I talk to you?"

Her voice was softer this time, almost pleading. She hugged the football against her chest like it was keeping her steady.

"I want to make the starting lineup... I need to."

Her tone wavered, not out of weakness but out of how badly she wanted it. She stepped closer, lowering her voice to make sure no one else—even if the field was empty—would hear.

"I know I’m not the best on the team yet, but I’ll do anything. Extra drills, staying late, running until I can’t feel my legs—whatever it takes. Just... give me a chance. Please, Coach. Could you train me after hours? Just me and you—help me get good enough to earn a spot on the field."

Her shirt clung to her, her skin glistening under the last bit of sunlight, but her eyes were what stood out—wide, intense, almost desperate for approval. She wasn’t just asking anymore. She was begging for an opportunity to prove herself.