When Ken entered the locker room, the captain threw him a jersey. It read his own name across the back.
Ken stood like a statue, shocked at what he was seeing. "What… is this mine?"
He looked at the coach, standing lazily by the entrance.
"Well," the coach smirked, "I thought somehow you guys would end up on my team, but that was for our last match. And since Alex isn't here for the game as a player…" He shrugged, still smiling, and walked off.
Ken blinked, speechless. "What kind of psycho plans this in advance? If it were me, I'd never…" he muttered under his breath. Still, he slipped into the jersey. It fit almost too perfectly, like it had been waiting for him all along.
"Just follow my lead, Ken."
Ken spun around. The voice was calm, steady. Noel.
There he was, leaning against the wall, his usual smile softening the weight of the moment.
Ken gulped hard, but gave a smile. "Then let's win together, Noel."
They clapped fists together for an instant, then left for the game.
Back on the court, the atmosphere was charged. Topper High was nine points ahead already, and the second half had just started. Saturn High's cheering section bellowed with hope for a comeback.
Ken walked onto the court, adrenaline pumping, but the moment the ball hit his hands, he was back in autopilot. His defense was fierce—shutting down passes, shutting down drives, forcing Topper High into errors. With each block, Noel had the buffer he needed. With Ken on his tail, Noel had clear paths and dropped baskets at will. The stadium was on its feet, cheering, stomping, yelling Saturn's name.
But Topper High did not crack. The margin narrowed, then widened, then narrowed again. Each possession was a struggle. Sweat poured down Ken's face as he fought for rebounds, his lungs burning with each sprint.
And then—it was down to the final seconds.
The scoreboard flashed: 74 – 74.Timer: 8 seconds.
The ball was in Ken's hands.
"Pass it!" Noel shouted, already positioning himself.
But Ken hesitated. His thoughts tumbled. If I shoot, they'll read it. If I pass, they'll block Noel. We'll lose.
The crowd was counting down. Seven. Six.
Ken looked at Noel. His friend's eyes blazed with confidence, not pressure. And in that split second, Ken decided.
He drove forward, stopped short, and leapt. A long, impossible shot—one the entire court thought was madness.
"No way he makes that!" someone screamed. Even the coach groaned, "Too far!"
But this was the move Alex had drilled into him during countless practice nights. When the defense closed in, when the pressure crushed, when there was no choice left—trust the arc, trust the release. Ken copied Alex's move.
Three. Two. One.
The ball shot through the air, the whole crowd suspended in silence.
Swish.
It dropped clean into the net just as the buzzer screamed.
The gym exploded—screams, applause.
Saturn High had beaten the unbeatable Topper High. The underdogs had taken the crown.
Ken stood frozen, his heart thumping, until his teammates engulfed him. Arms around him, shouts of victory rang in his ears. Noel pulled him into a bear hug that carried him clear off the floor. The crowd continued to roar, shouting his name—
"Ken! Ken! Ken!"