The scoreboard's harsh fluorescent digits flickered steadily above the court: Yokonan 22, Toshigawa 27. The gym air was heavy with heat and the sharp scent of rubber soles against polished wood. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, casting long, shifting shadows across the court. Around the stands, the quiet shuffle of spectators mingled with distant coughs and the low hum of the ventilation system.
Kayano pushed the ball forward, his sneakers squeaking sharply against the court's glossy surface. Ryuu stepped up and set a solid screen, the scrape of his shoes grinding to a halt against the hardwood. Kayano's muscles tensed as he used his agility, darting past Hayato once again, the ball thumping rhythmically in his hands. The breath of the crowd hit his face like a warm wave, and the natural light illuminated the sweat glistening on his forehead.
He drove hard toward the hoop, the open space inviting. But just as he leapt to make the layup, time seemed to slow. His eyes locked on Tetsuo, towering above him midair—an imposing figure silhouetted against the bright daylight flooding the gym. The rough scrape of Tetsuo's sneakers echoed as he rose, hands outstretched.
Kayano's heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud and relentless. Instinctively, before the defender could block the shot, Kayano snapped a behind-the-back pass to Manabu. The ball left his fingertips with a soft thud, spinning through the humid gym air.
"Oh no," Takahiro muttered, breaking from his marker and sprinting toward Manabu, his breath ragged and rapid.
Manabu caught the ball, his sneakers screeching on the court as he planted firmly. Takahiro jumped with tense muscles to block, but the ball sailed past him, a clean, sharp swish slicing through the gym's charged silence.
"Damn it, I was too late," Takahiro thought, chest heaving.
Eiji's voice rang out loud and clear over the crowd's murmur. "Now that's what I'm talking about! Nice shot, Manabu!"
Coach Arimoto's gaze never wavered from the court. "Kayano is the best guard a coach can ask for. He makes the game flow so smoothly for us while at the same time breaking down the other team's defense. I can rest easy now—we'll take the lead from here on out."
Kayano wiped the sweat dripping down his forehead, his eyes still fixed on Tetsuo. It's different when I'm playing against this guy than when I was watching him from the sidelines. He's really a threat. I wonder where they found him, he thought, still surprised from the near-block.
Haruko's breath fogged in the cool gym air as she muttered quietly, "That number six is good. He's really fast, and his decision-making is so quick. This is a whole different ball game than I'm used to."
Nanaho bit her lip, tension tightening her jaw. "Kayano is really making this game more complicated for us. I'll have to figure out a way to keep him in check, or else we'll lose our lead at this rate."
The ball was back in Toshigawa's hands. Hayato's fingers gripped the leather tightly as he passed to Yukio, who was backed up against Ryuu in the post. Ryuu shifted his weight, his breath steady, eyes sharp.
"Bring it on, number seven," Ryuu said, pressing his defense firmly, the scrape of his shoes matching Yukio's labored breathing.
Yukio eyed the defense and thought, His defense is solid. I can't break through this time. He passed the ball quickly to Takahiro, whose sneakers barely made a sound on the court as he caught it.
Takahiro wasted no time, feeding the ball back to Hayato. Hayato held the ball close, sweat stinging his eyes as he shielded it from Kayano's quick hands. The faint smell of rubber mixed with the musk of bodies moving swiftly all around.
Damn, ever since he came on, he's made it difficult to see the basket. I need an opening, some kind of opportunity, Hayato thought, eyes flicking around the court rapidly.
He spotted a slight lapse—a Yokonan player not fully guarding Shino. The gym fell into a tense hush as Hayato faked a pass to Takahiro, the sound of bouncing ball soft but urgent. Kayano reacted instantly, but Hayato had already pivoted, sending a sharp pass to Shino.
"Shino, catch!" Hayato called out, voice steady but urgent.
Shino's hands closed around the ball. His breath was shallow, heart hammering in his chest as he focused intensely.
"Don't move—he will pass the ball. Stick to your markers," Kayano instructed, his voice low and commanding as he tracked the offense.
I know I can't score a jump shot like Tetsuo can, but I've learned a thing or two these past few weeks, Shino thought, body coiled tight as he rose for the shot.
Manabu abandoned Tetsuo, leaping toward Shino with arms extended. The sharp whoosh of air followed as Manabu jumped, but Ryuu's shout cracked sharply through the air, "Manabu, you idiot! It's obviously a trick!"
Manabu's eyes widened, shock rippling through him. A fake? But he's a nobody, he thought.
"Tetsuo!" Shino shouted as he spun, passing the ball cleanly to the wide-open Tetsuo.
The ball left Tetsuo's hands with a clean flick, cutting through the humid air with a sharp snap. The net rippled as the ball swished through.
"That number eleven is at it again. That's his fourth one!" a Yokonan student exclaimed, voice rising over the din.
Coach Arimoto's jaw clenched, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "That idiot Manabu fell for that amateur's feint."
Kogure watched from the sidelines, sensing the storm. The coach seems to be boiling with rage. Yeah, training will be more gruesome from here on out, he thought, tension knotting his stomach.
"That's the way to go! Nice shot, Tetsuo!" Nanaho shouted, voice sharp with excitement.
Kogure's eyes narrowed. "Wait… did she just say Tetsuo? Where have I heard that name before?" he wondered silently, searching his memory.
The rest of the quarter unfolded in a blur of movement and noise. Both teams pushed back and forth, the squeak of sneakers and the slap of the ball punctuating every play.
Kayano dribbled hard down the court. The thud of the ball on wood was steady and controlled as he passed to a teammate who drove for a layup, the crowd rising with anticipation.
Hayato quickly moved the ball to Takahiro, who pulled up for a two-pointer. The release was clean and sure; the net rippled.
"Yes! It scored!" Takahiro whispered as he raced back on defense, sweat slick along his hairline.
Ryuu received a pass near the paint, pivoted sharply, and scored a post shot with smooth precision.
Hayato took the ball and, unexpectedly, stepped back for a three-point shot. The ball left his hands with a faint whistle through the gym air, catching Kayano off guard.
"It's off! Rebound!" Kayano yelled.
The ball bounced erratically off the rim. Yukio jumped up, snatched the rebound mid-air, and slammed it back down in a powerful dunk. The rim rattled, and the gym erupted with shock and cheers.
"Whoa, Toshigawa isn't half bad," Kogure admitted aloud.
Kayano feinted left, then crossed over to the right, slipping past Hayato's outstretched hands. He passed to a teammate who scored a layup, the crowd's energy rising.
Yukio drove hard to the rim, attempting a layup. To avoid a block, he twisted midair into a reverse layup, the ball softly hit the backboard before dropping through.
Manabu received a pass from Kayano and quickly fired a three-pointer, but Tetsuo rose up, his fingers grazing the ball as he blocked the shot and caught it cleanly. Immediately, he passed it to Takahiro, who sprinted down the court and scored a layup, his breathing heavy and rapid.
Him again... Manabu thought to himself, hands trembling
Kayano responded quickly, passing to Ryuu, who floated a shot over Yukio, the ball spinning quietly before dropping through the net.
Hayato drove toward the rim and floated a soft shot over Kayano's hand, the ball swishing clean.
Ryuu set a screen for Manabu, freeing him from Tetsuo's defense. Kayano's pass was sharp and precise, landing in Manabu's hands as he drove and scored a layup.
Yukio stood just outside the key, pivoted swiftly, and shot a bank shot that swished neatly.
Kayano passed to a teammate, who scored a two-pointer, the crowd's murmur swelling.
Kogure watched with concern. Kayano brought a boost to their offense, but they won't be able to close the gap like this. What will you do, Coach?
Hayato passed to Tetsuo, who faked a shot, forcing Manabu to jump. Then he drove, bumping into Ryuu, and scored a layup with determination.
Immediately, Kayano surged past Hayato, pulled up, and sank a two-point shot cleanly.
Takahiro passed to Yukio, who faked, causing Ryuu to leap, then stepped through and scored a layup with fluid ease.
Only seconds remained. Kayano passed to Ryuu, but Yukio applied intense pressure, keeping Ryuu from turning for a shot.
"God damn it," Ryuu muttered under his breath, passing to a teammate.
Suddenly, Shino was at the right place at the right time. The ball slipped through and landed in his hands.
"Huh? I got the ball?" he thought, wide-eyed and shocked.
"Go, Katsuragi!" Hayato shouted.
"What are you waiting for? Dribble to the rim!" Yukio urged, voice sharp.
Shino gripped the ball, his palms slick with sweat. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he nervously dribbled forward. Though awkward in motion, his pace was steady and just fast enough to keep Yokonan defenders behind.
"That number six is so fast! I can't catch up," Manabu thought, struggling to close the gap.
As Shino reached the rim, the distant roar of the crowd faded into a muffled hum. He took a deep breath, the cool gym air filling his lungs.
Stay calm. Remember what Tetsuo taught you—take two steps, then lay the ball on the rectangle, he told himself, muscles tightening in preparation.
He stepped forward, and the ball left his hands, sliding softly against the backboard. Time seemed to stretch.
Then—swish.
The net rippled gently as the ball dropped clean.
"No way! It went in! It went in! I scored on Yokonan! My first in-game points! I did it! I did it!" Shino's voice cracked with joy, cheeks flushed, breath coming in rapid bursts.
A teacher watching nearby chuckled softly, "He's like a little kid."
"Aww! Look at him! He's absolutely adorable," a girl in the crowd gushed.
"Did he just say his first in-game points? Our basketball team is a joke," a soccer player scoffed from the sidelines.
Coach Arimoto clenched his fists, jaw tight, sitting down to steady his breathing and control his frustration.
"Great work, Shino!" Hayato said warmly as they high-fived.
"Nice layup! We needed that," Yukio added, smiling.
Takahiro gave Shino an encouraging smile as he headed toward the bench.
Tetsuo patted Shino on the back with a rare smile. "Nice layup, Katsuragi," he said before retreating to the bench.
Shino's chest rose and fell rapidly, a mix of exhaustion and elation flooding him. Even Tetsuo is praising me! This is the best! I was finally acknowledged by the person I want to catch up to!
The whistle blew sharply, echoing across the gym, signaling the end of the second quarter.
The scoreboard glowed: Yokonan 39- Toshigawa 48.