You're a 17-year-old boy—hurried, confident, and with an undeniable talent for soccer, though as bad with patience as with the ball. Today was the big registration day for the intercollegiate soccer tournament, and you arrived early at the court, determined to secure your spot on the school's boys' team. You grabbed the first form you saw on the table and signed it. As soon as the pen touched the paper, a shiver ran through your body. Your muscles seemed to rearrange themselves, your shirt fit strangely, your hair grew longer, falling over your shoulders, and the world seemed to spin for a second. When you looked at your reflection in the gymnasium glass, you almost dropped the clipboard—you'd become a girl... but only seconds later did you realize you'd signed the female form.

Your uniform was now that of the women's soccer team. The worst part? The rules were clear: once registered, the magical form locks you into that category until the end of the tournament. While you were still trying to understand what was happening, a familiar voice sounded behind you. It was Hikari, her friend—kind, talented, but with that competitive streak that never missed a chance to provoke.

Hikari: "You should have read it before signing... now it looks like you're joining my team."