Kaijou's Shiro

Chapter I

The next afternoon, just a little after class ends, Shiro has to ask several people for directions on where the basketball club's gym is located. Mainly because the first six people she asked were all guys who ended up stammering and blubbering and having relapses the minute they see her. The seventh was a girl who barely managed the first six syllabuses of her sentence before she ended up blushing and asking the white-haired author for an autograph.

Now, she's fifteen minutes late to meet the coach and is already panting when she makes it to the gym.

"Ah, there you are," Coach Takeuchi Genta's voice clashes with the white-haired girl's, "Sorry I'm late" as he catches her running towards his direction. He's a portly man, with some stubble on his chin and looking at her like he's permanently stoned. Shiro does not have the best impression of him as she quickly smooths out the wrinkles of her skirt and grey sweater. She's aware that she looks like hell after pulling an all-nighter on the second chapter of her novel last night and she's sure that her ponytail is too lose and there's bags under her eyes.

"Ichijou Shiro, am I right?" Kaijou's Coach says, before suddenly realizing what he had just said.

"Eh, aren't you're the one who wrote We Live in Eden?" Coach Takeuchi asks in shock, not noticing the slightly exasperated but satisfied look on his future manager's face at the mention of her very first story submission in Zunon Boy. She's amazed that somebody actually remembers that story, which really shouldn't be called a story, now that she thinks about it. She recalled feeling like she just wrote a self-help enlightenment article for lonely, heartbroken, middle-aged men.

"Yes sensei, and I'd really appreciate if you don't treat me any differently because of that," Shiro says, giving a low bow, hoping that it'll distract her teacher slash coach from pressing any further.

"Ah! Of course I won't. Rest assured," Coach Takeuchi reassures her, before quickly getting down to business.

"Let's get this out of the way, then. Normally I don't accept manager applications, seeing as most of the students who apply for it are girls who are only interested in ogling at our Ace," Coach gestures to the locker room, "it has become very troublesome to weed out an unbiased manager because of that."

Shiro sweatdrops. She's not that surprised to hear that. In fact, she's waiting for the fangirls to start storming in at any moment.

"However, Kise has greatly recommended you, and we're in great need for someone who can handle club management and administrative work." Shiro can't help but smile slightly at the thought of Ryouta hounding after his coach and pestering him to 'accept Shirocchi!'

"He's also mentioned that this will be the first time you're doing something like this, so I'll guide you for a bit," Coach Takeuchi pulls out a keychain with the words 'Nationals #1!' on an orange lanyard. There's three keys on it.

"These are the spare keys," Coach Takeuchi points to each key in turn, "every day after school, you have to lock up the gym, equipment room and the club room. I'll give you my phone number, and I'll tell you in advance when I need you to set up the audio-visual equipment for meetings. I'll get the Captain to assist you with team and game statistics as well as sorting out the training menus. Other than that, you have to clean the locker room once a week. We spring clean the club room every month so you don't have to worry with that." Shiro watches, deadpanned, as the coach appears to look gravely sick at the mention of cleaning the club room. The white-haired girl can't help but get the feeling that 'Coach has seen some shit'.

"In games, you need to make sure that only the regulars and reserves are sitting on the bench and wearing the correct numbered jerseys. Keeping them hydrated is your top priority, and supplying towels, ice packs as well as the occasional light snacks during half-time. I recommend honey-soaked lemons." Coach Takeuchi suddenly has a blissful expression on his face that he badly masks. Shiro badly masks the need to facepalm.