It’s just a knee in the balls. The way guys overreact is so funny.
“...Let’s get outta here. Any more and I’ll just feel sorry for him.”
“Haru, you went a bit overboard. You better think about what you’ve done.”
“How about you promise us men that you’ll never do anything like this ever again?”
Even after we left the boys still ganged up to criticize me.
I’m the victim here—why are they mad at me? This is why I hate this misogynistic world.
Then it was the morning of the final match.
There was no one changing the rules or otherwise getting in the way of our can-kicking. An invigorating breeze blew across the field. Only those qualified to be tested on how much of their life they had devoted to Kickin’ the Can could set foot here.
It was the free kick of our first game.
On our defense turn, they had suddenly scored seven points. Our opponents were fairly formidable, as they should be in a championship match.
Next was our time to show them what we could do.
The only ones in the circle were Pokyamaz, Gnace, and Relamap. I hadn’t gone out yet. I was waiting for them to finish prepping.
The previous day, I asked everyone at the shop to help us out. The Blue Cat Nocturne band lined up on the side of the field began to play.
To me, the 80s disco vibes were super old-school, but in this world, the rhythms echoing across the field were utterly new.
I gave everyone plenty of time to listen to my intro and finally made my appearance. The buzz turned into a commotion.
I made my shoes at the last minute, so I’m glad they got done in time. To the people of this world who only know flats, eight-inch heels were even more shocking than I expected.
I had put even more slits into the booty shorts from the semi-final match and cut up a t-shirt to make it look like a bra.
Over the top of that I had thrown on a blouse with the sleeves taken off. Treating the circle, where the can was waiting, like the end of runway, I pushed my hair back and made a leisurely approach. All eyes were on me.
When I reached the middle of the circle, I cast off the blouse and struck a pose. Shequraso’s powerful vocals soared, getting everyone even more worked up.
Pokyamaz and the guys did a dance. I sexily provoked the other team and teased the men in the audience, too. The president of the association had a pained look on his face, and I blew him a kiss.
I slowly squatted down in front of the can and then popped my thighs wide-open.
I used Relamap’s family’s abalone-esque can to conceal my crotch and rocked my hips. The men watching leaned in so far they fell all over themselves.
I took my time standing up and then kicked the can.
It traced a beautiful arc over the heads of the other team, who were all bent over holding the front of their pants.
Having lost the will to fight, they forfeited, so we won by default.
The boys were all ecstatic, and we proposed a zillion toasts with water from the square.
Gnace jumped into the fountain and got scolded by some random old guy, and it was so funny we all laughed ’till our bellies hurt and then hugged each other more times than I could count.
Relamap raised the can and shouted, “We did it!” over and over. Pokyamaz was surreptitiously wiping away tears. We shared our happiness until dark and excitedly proclaimed that we would win again next year. We promised we’d practice the next day as usual.
It was three days later that I told them I was quitting the team.
“...Wait. We’ll figure out a way to make it work.”
“That’s impossible. It’s the rules.”
“We’ll protest to the president. We can blackmail him!”
But I shook my head at Pokyamaz’s suggestion. We had no proof, and anyone who heard the story would surely side with the president. I mean, I’m a sex worker.
Only boys can play in the tournament.
The new rule made perfect sense to these misogynistic people; in other words, it was only common sense in this world. It was so taken for granted it simply hadn’t been written down. Girls on sports teams was simply a foreign concept to them.
Plus, the whole city knew I was a sex worker now. After the craziness at the championship game, the rumors spread, so now everyone involved had found out, and trying to explain was pointless.
The team found out, too. They didn’t say anything, but I’m sure their parents told them not to play with me anymore.
“No...this sucks. You’re our precious friend, Haru. If we’re not ‘happy’ and ‘friends,’ this team is finished.”
“I agree. We’re only the Happy Friends Squad as long as you’re here. This team’s not changing.”
“Yeah, we don’t need to play in the tournament anymore. I wouldn’t even if they asked. Let’s just keep playing together forever, okay, Haru?”
It was really hard not to cry. Are these guys actually princes from some twinkling star?
But I couldn’t keep taking advantage of their kindness. Besides, I didn’t have the heart to say it when they looked so solemn, but what we were doing could hardly be called Kickin’ the Can, anyhow. Time to start playing the actual game, guys.
“You dummies. I can’t be out here doing this all the time. I’m busy at work.”
I meant that; it was something I really needed to fix. In order to make it to early morning practice on time I had been serving my customers pretty carelessly and came in dead last in the satisfaction survey. Who started that thing, anyway?
“I’m done playing around with you kids. You little punks find some new little punk friends and play with them. I’m sick of this, anyhow. Bye!”
I hopped up and yawned. I’ll stop intruding on the world of boys now. I’m sure they want to get back to playing real Kickin’ the Can, anyhow.
I’m graduating from this kid stuff!
“...Haru, you’re a horrible actress.”
“You really think you can fool us like that?”
“We know you don’t want to quit. Who’s the real little punk, Haru?”
Shaddup.
Whatever, just don’t look at me right now. I don’t wanna cry.
“Take care, you guys. When you grow up, come to the shop. I’ll teach you something fun.”
I waved goodbye without turning around. I really love you guys.
“Really?” Pokyamaz shouted, and I stopped and turned around in spite of myself. Their faces were surprisingly eager.
“That’s a promise, Haru!”
“When we grow up, teach us something fun!”
“Because we’ve got our hearts set on you!”
Bright-red faces, snotty noses, and gleaming moist eyes.
“...Okay, it’s a promise!”
I managed to hide the fact that I was about to become a sobbing mess, smiled, and ran off.
Idiots. Men really are idiots.
Grow up to be three great guys. You can’t be caring about me.
＊
“Hee-hee-hee-hee! How does it feel, you little devil? Do you understand what will happen to you if you disobey me, now?”
“O...h? Please forgive me.”
The guys who get attached to me are all weirdos like this.
The president of the Kickin’ the Can Association’s balls survived, and he kept coming around.
But as long as he’s coming to the shop and paying money, all I can really do is quietly let him violate me.
He took out his Kickin’ the Can president’s seal and pushed it into my butt cheek. “Look, you’re mine!” the geezer shouted with glee.
“I’ll do whatever you say!” I replied, wiggling my backside.
“So toned, such a gorgeous ass. Kickin’ the Can really is wonderful—it makes the players beautiful,” he panted.
“Uh, so will you let girls play, then...?”
“Don’t get saucy with me. Women shouldn’t so much as speak of Kickin’ the Can,” he said with a satisfied grin, pumping away with his little cock inside my pussy.
Well, yeah.
I’m me wherever I go, but this world is this world. The shop is the only place I have to go home to.
“I’m gonna cum, ohhh, you little devil. Hahh, I’m gonna jizz all over your pervy backside. Your ass belongs to me!”
For the president of the Kickin’ the Can association, the way he ejaculated into my pussy was pretty lacking in kick.
“Ahhn, Mr. President, you’re amazing! Never again will I disobey your magnificent cock!”
“Hee-hee-hee-hee. If that’s how you feel, then let’s go another round.”
“Oh, it’s 85 rubers to extend.”
Well, I have more customers now, I got to experience something like a club here, and the boys were cute.
That was fun!
＊
“I’m going out with Kiyori now.”
A guy with Carp cap-shaped hair said in the voice of a loser, propping himself up on his elbows at the bar.
“...?”
“It’s me, for fuck’s sake!”
“Ohh, Chiba! Long time no see! Where have you been?”
“I come to the shop every day, and wait outside the arena, too!”
Representative of the saddest dudes of all worlds, Chiba.
Apparently while we weren’t seeing each other he learned how to speak up when delivering a comeback. He seemed to be doing well.
“You’re so uncertain, so I’ve progressed really far along Kiyori’s route.”
“I still don’t really know what all that ‘route’ stuff is about, but you’re going out with her? Nice. She’s cute, right?”
“Yeah, she’s cute, I guess. And she was a virgin. Which is great and all, but there’s one problem.”
“What?”
“She’s a dead lay.”
“You’re one to talk, zombie brains.” “Well you have sex like a frozen corpse!” I came up with so many comebacks I couldn’t say anything.
Crap, my comeback game is getting rusty. I had been spoiled by the chill environment.
“I guess you’re really the only girl for me, Haru.”
He grabbed my hand without asking. He was finally able to get a girlfriend like normal and all—he was really getting carried away.
“Will you be my maid and teach Kiyori a bunch of stuff? At least to get her to the point where she’ll give head without me ask—”
“Want some coffee?”
“Oww! My head’s not a cup—or a carp for that matter! What the hell?!”
“Sorry, Gunma.”
“It’s Chiba!”
There are truly no good guys anywhere.