Bad Spot

Lunchtime had passed, and although the sun still shone bright, gusts of wind pulsed across Solaris, rustling the leaves and sending ripples through the grassy areas between buildings.

In the central hall, a handful of clubs were setting up their recruitment booths, mostly new or lesser-known groups that needed extra marketing to grow. The more established clubs at Solaris didn’t bother with this kind of promotion. Some hosted their own flashy events, while others drew a steady stream of newcomers simply by existing.

That wasn’t the case for Team Phoenix.

Years ago, back when the current players were still in middle school, they used to hold tryouts to narrow down dozens of applicants.

Now, things were clearly different.

“Alright! Let’s get this thing going!” exclaimed Dani, standing confidently before a wide, flimsy plastic table and two folding chairs.

Mari silently approached from the hallway, carrying a roller banner, the kind with a wobbly base, but passable enough to hold up through the day.

“Hey, Mari… why did we get this spot at the recruitment fair?” Dani asked, frowning as she looked around. Their booth was tucked off the main path, practically isolated. “Aren’t we the freaking student council?”

“Not right now.” Mari’s tone was flat as ever. “We’re the Solaris Women’s Football Team. And you submitted our application late.”

Dani stiffened as if a cold wind had just passed through her.

“We should be grateful they gave us a space at all,” Mari added.

Daniela crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and touched her chin in thought.

“I’ll see if one of the other clubs wants to swap. This corner could be perfect for introverts,” she said brightly, already turning toward the main hallway.

“I’m not moving,” Mari muttered, her face tightening subtly as she dropped into one of the chairs.

“Come on, it’s now or never. Once they finish setting up, it’ll be impossible to change.”

“This is our fault. Deal with it.”

“But—”

“I’m not moving from this spot. And I’m not letting you trick anyone into switching with us. End of discussion.”

Dani sighed, knowing this battle was lost. She took a slow breath and sat beside Mari.

Mari extended the roller banner. Dani stretched out next to her, trying to settle into the plastic chair.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. If anything, it deepened the sense of familiarity between them, tense but undeniably close.

The banner was plain, but it did its job: it told the world, barely, that Team Phoenix was recruiting.

Dani and Mari stood in front of it with equally unimpressed expressions, watching as it swayed gently in the breeze drifting through the hallway.

“Well,” Dani said with a forced smile, “we could think of it as the wind being excited to promote us.”

Mari said nothing. She sat down, reached into her black satchel bag, and pulled out a large sketchbook and a pencil case.

The wind tugged at the edge of her page, but she weighed it down with her pencil case, flipping to a fresh sheet without comment.

Dani let out a deep sigh and sat down next to Mari.

“So, now we wait!” she said, trying to inject some positive energy into their shift.

She glanced over and noticed Mari sketching on the blank page.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making a flyer,” Mari replied. “It might do some work for us when we’re not around.”

“Ohh! Great idea. Give me a sheet, I’ll make one too!”

Mari paused, clearly resisting the idea. She knew Dani wasn’t much of a designer, but she respected the enthusiasm.

“You already did enough with the banner,” Mari said. “Leave this one to me. You focus on talking to anyone who shows interest.”

“You’re right. I’m terrible at drawing,” said Dani with a friendly smile. “Well, I’m counting on you then.”

Occasionally, a few students passed by, barely glancing at the Team Phoenix booth. Most were just using the hallway as a shortcut to get to the main path. Dani was starting to get impatient.

Time dragged on.

Mari kept drawing in silence.

Dani checked her phone, paced in circles, and even approached a few random girls to invite them to join the team, with no success.

Eventually, she sat back down, let out a deep, frustrated breath, and grumbled.

“Gaaah… this is going nowhere.”

“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mari replied.

“But it feels like hours. What should we do?”

A gust of wind swept through the hallway, knocking the banner over and sending it sliding across the cold tiled floor like a ship adrift.

Mari smiled faintly to herself, still drawing.

“You could start with picking that up.”

Dani groaned, got up, and dragged the banner back into place.

Then she sat down with a sigh.

“Any news from your two recruits?” she asked.

“No. I gave them until Friday,” Mari replied, still sketching.

Dani dropped her head onto the table with a thud.

“Alright. Let’s assume they sign with the team!” she said in a sudden rush of energy. “We just need two more! I’m sure we can do this.”

Mari said nothing.

“…Maybe if I take out an actual football, people will come over. How about a live demonstration?” suggested Dani.

“We’re in a hallway. That’s a terrible idea,” said Mari, pencil still moving. “You’ll probably break something.”

“Probably,” Dani said, grinning. “But if it were you…”

“No.”

“Come on, just a little juggle?”

“Stop it.”

Dani laughed out loud, her voice echoing down the hallway and drawing a few curious looks toward the booth, as more foot traffic reached this end of the central hall.

The wind, once again, knocked over the banner. A skinny girl quickly stepped forward to help, followed by her friend. A third girl stood farther away, starting to approach, only to stop when she saw others already assisting.

“Oh, thanks!” said Dani as she rushed over to help lift the banner.

They got it upright again, and the two girls took a moment to read it.

“Oh, you’re from the football team?” one of them asked, curious.

“That’s right! And we’re looking for some new stars to join the team!” Dani replied with confident energy.

“Or someone who just shows up would work too,” Mari said softly from her seat.

“Do you want to join us in our quest to Nationals?” Dani continued, pointedly ignoring the comment.

The two girls looked at each other.

“We both actually played in middle school,” one of them said. “It’s not like we were any good, but it was fun.”

“Oh, it is fun! You could use this opportunity to wake up that sleeping talent!” Dani insisted, wearing the charm of a seasoned salesperson.

The other girl glanced at the banner again. Her expression shifted.

“We’re fine, but good luck!” she said, grabbing her friend by the shoulders and steering her away.

“R—Right! Thanks!” Dani called out, smiling brightly to cover her disappointment.

As the girls walked off, Dani and Mari could overhear their conversation:

“We shouldn’t get involved. That’s the team that got into a fight in the middle of a match a few months ago.”

“What? I had no idea.”

Dani stared up at the glass ceiling, eyes empty. Mari didn’t react. She just kept drawing.

Dani wandered back to the booth and peeked at Mari’s flyer. She froze for a moment, stunned.

“Hey… Mari?”

“Hm?”

“This is good. But… isn’t it a little… cute?”

Mari paused and looked at the flyer from a distance.

They both observed it in silence.

It was colorful, clean, and included all the relevant information, alongside a drawing of a phoenix.

A minimalist, very adorable phoenix.

“I don’t see the issue,” said Mari, entirely serious.

“I mean… we’re a sports team. This looks like it could be for childcare.”

Mari tilted her head, studying it. “I get it. She needs to look more determined.”

“Well. Maybe.”

Mari grabbed her black pen and, with two elegant lines, drew a frown on the phoenix.

Dani watched, stone-faced, as Mari lifted the flyer once more.

“Perfect.”