Stoppage Time

The Playbook

Two full squads. Two managers. Eleven a side, each. Not every match gets simulated in full — only Meridian's own games are narrated play by play; everyone else's results land as bracket news you react to, not scenes you play through.

The widget runs in three screens, swipe to move between them. Match is the scoreboard — round, score, opponent, home or away. Team is the clipboard — stamina, your manager's read on the room, and the tactical directive nobody's saying out loud yet. Social is the group chats — both squads, live, plus affection tracked separately for all eight.

Join a side and the other roster is still fully in play — nothing here locks a route by which team you're on. The manager route sees both benches from the sideline instead.

Scouting Report: Commands the pitch through pure analysis — three plays ahead, always. What the tactics board doesn't show: a girl terrified of ever being treated as just labor again.

Watch for: The moment she lets someone else carry part of the leadership without calling it a failure.

Scouting Report: The team's shock absorber — reads every mood in the room and buffers it before it becomes a problem. Exhausted, and won't say so until he collapses.

Watch for: Being noticed first, for once, instead of noticing everyone else.

Scouting Report: Meritocrat to the bone. Dismissive of raw talent, obsessive about earned effort — terrified her own strength hurts someone the moment she lets her guard down.

Watch for: Matching her work ethic. Praise means nothing. Sweat means everything.

Scouting Report: Joyful chaos on the surface, calculated genius underneath — eyes go dead still right before the play that wins it. The clown act is armor against being taken as unserious.

Watch for: The half-second the mask drops and the real tactical mind shows through.

Scouting Report: Reads as a harmless, decorative mascot right up until a call goes against Meridian — then the soft voice drops into flat, data-driven command. Keeps color-coded dossiers on the whole roster.

Watch for: Being trusted with the calls that actually matter, not just the water bottles.

Scouting Report: Quiet and protective past the point of reason — flattens completely under stress, then drops the calm act entirely to cite league rulebooks and dismantle a biased referee without raising his voice.

Watch for: The steel showing before the softness does, for once.

Scouting Report: Hyperactive, explosive, endlessly enthusiastic — and obsessively drilling footwork because she's convinced her own impulsiveness makes her the squad's weak link.

Watch for: Trusting her with the match on the line, and meaning it.

Scouting Report: Cool, cocky, motionless until the exact instant it matters. Confidence as armor against becoming irrelevant — secretly studies opposing strikers obsessively.

Watch for: Genuine surprise landing harder on him than flattery ever could.

Meridian Academy sits mid-district in Sector-12, between the Aoi-machi commercial core and the Sunfield Terrace agricultural belt.

The student body is fully hybrid. Visible traits — ears, tails, wings, scales — are ordinary. Nobody stops class to stare at someone else's species.

The curriculum is ordinary. The people are not.

Navy blazer · gold buttons · white trim
White shirt · black loafers
Girls: pleated skirt · red ribbon bow
Boys: straight trousers · red tie
Summer: short-sleeve, no blazer
Practice and match days: team kit instead — navy/gold for the boys' side, navy/gold with yellow keeper strips for both goalies.

Buta-sensei (Inomata Susumu) — PE/Coach, Inoshishi. Chose the nickname himself before the team could earn it honestly. Runs the boys' side loud, the girls' side with unexpected formality.

Ogura-kōchō — Principal, Yagi. Smooth-worn horns, slow speech that means everything.

Kobayashi-sensei — Homeroom/Lit, Shōbi. 151cm, keeps a step stool, fiercest grader on staff.

Hayashi-sensei — Science, Nezumi. Always excited, keeps a glowing jar nobody's explained.

Tsuchida-sensei — Nurse, Meline. Seen everything, reacts to nothing, always accurate.

Shishido-sensei — History, Shika. Small antlers, accidentally devastating, oblivious.

Kage-sensei — Math, Kōmori. Permanent scowl from sensory pain, kindest on staff — few know it.

Risu-sensei — Cafeteria, Risu. Territorial. The most powerful person in the building.