The quiet hum of the hallway followed Sachiko as she slid open the student council room door. Morning sunlight stretched across the floor in straight bands, and faint dust drifted in the warm air.
Inside, two members were already seated—one turning the pages of a ledger with small, steady movements as he clicked the mouse of his laptop entering the information, the other lifting and lowering a stack of discipline reports while their fingers tapped lightly against the paper's edges.
Sachiko stepped inside with her usual composed posture, her fingers running once along the front of her blazer to settle the fabric.
Her gaze lifted toward the desk near the window.
"Is President Yoshida here yet?" Her voice came out steady as her eyes searched the room.
Both members lifted their heads. One gave a small shake, his chair creaking faintly as he straightened.
"Not yet. She mentioned she'll be a little late." His eyes lowered briefly to the ledger before returning to Sachiko.
"I see…" Sachiko released a quiet breath and gave a small nod while she eased the door shut behind her, the latch clicking softly.
She crossed the room with steady, controlled steps, the faint rhythm of her shoes tapping lightly against the floor.
One of them let out a slow sigh while his hand moved to the back of his neck, his fingers pressing lightly against the skin as if trying to ease the tension there.
"We still need to finalize the sports-related budget requests… the football team, track, baseball… and the boys' basketball teams as well. Their coach, Nanaho Fukazawa from class 2-S, turned in their forms pretty late." His shoulders lowered a little as he looked toward the papers on the desk.
Sachiko's hand stopped midway, her fingers hovering above the desk for a moment.
"Our basketball team?" Her voice tightened slightly as her eyes widened, the surprise showing in the small shift of her posture.
The treasurer moved the mouse and clicked into another spreadsheet, the soft tick of the button filling the brief silence.
"Yeah. The basketball team's request came in around 9 p.m. last night." His eyes narrowed slightly at the screen as he scrolled through the numbers.
"Yeah, I know Fukazawa. She's in my class."
The discipline committee member leaned back slightly, his fingers brushing along the edge of his report as a tired breath slipped out. "That girl is a handful, that's for sure."
Sachiko's eyes lowered a little, her focus drifting toward the floor.
That's right… Tetsuo should be joining the basketball team.
With the way he is now, it feels like I don't know him anymore. Almost like he's become a complete stranger.
A memory rose up—Tetsuo dribbling a worn ball in the snow, his bare feet red from the cold, yet a bright smile still fixed on his face.
…It really has been that long, huh…
Sachiko blinked once. She drew in a quiet breath.
On that note… doesn't Haruko play basketball too?
The realization drew a light tension through her chest. It's been a while since I actually watched her play… or even spent a whole afternoon with her. Maybe back when I was still in junior high.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the folder she held, the paper edges pressing faintly against her palm.
Maybe we should go soon.
She released a soft exhale, almost lost beneath the gentle shuffle of papers moving around the room.
"Vice President."
The discipline committee member's voice reached her with a light lift at the end, his chair shifting as he leaned forward slightly. The sound pulled her focus back to the present.
"Should we wait until President Yoshida gets here before we start on the agenda?"
Sachiko raised her head, her features settling into their usual calm, any trace of her earlier thoughts hidden cleanly away.
"Yes… let's wait a little longer." Her voice left her evenly, the controlled tone matching the steady way she held her posture.
At Hachioji Academy, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzed above, barely audible over the steady drone of the teacher's voice.
A soft breeze slipped in through the open windows, rustling the pages of half-open notebooks. Dust motes floated lazily in the sunbeams that streaked across the classroom.
Amid the quiet atmosphere, a faint whisper of breath escaped Haruko's parted lips as her head lolled slightly forward.
"Haru!" A little boy's voice rang out in her mind, bright and full of energy.
The air around her shifted, warmer, softer, as though she had stepped into another time.
Her dream unfolded gently, carrying the weight of something half-forgotten.
Haruko's younger self blinked up at him, her voice higher, lighter, touched with warmth.
"What is it?" she asked, a small smile forming on her lips.
"Let me show you something cool," the boy said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
Haruko shifted her weight, leaning forward without realizing it. The sound of her own breath felt louder in the still air.
"You've been wanting to see me do this for a long time, but you were too afraid to ask."
He lowered himself into a slight crouch.
The ball struck the floor in a steady rhythm—thump, thump, thump—echoing across the unseen court.
Sweat glistened faintly at his temple as he guided the ball, then, with one smooth motion, crossed it through his legs.
Haruko gasped, her eyes glistening. Her hands curled into fists against her skirt as she leaned closer.
"Whoa! You're so amazing! That's so cool!"
The boy grinned, sweat-dark hair clinging slightly to his forehead.
"You really think crossing the ball between my legs is amazing? Just wait until you see this trick."
He steadied his stance, carefully balancing the ball on his fingertip.
The leather brushed against his skin, rough and warm.
The basketball twirled, catching the light, spinning faster and faster until it blurred.
Haruko's mouth parted, her voice breathless.
"I'm amazed you can do things like that! Who taught you?"
"I honestly don't remember," he said, pausing for a moment before looking up at her. His eyes seemed both certain and distant.
"All I know is that I'm able to do this. But it's amazing, isn't it, Haruko?"
"Haruko! Haruko! Haruko Takahashi!"
The sharp voice cut through the dream, shattering it.
Haruko jolted upright, blinking hard as the classroom came back into focus.
Her cheek felt damp and warm from where it had pressed into her arm.
A thin line of drool clung to the corner of her mouth, and she wiped it away in a hurry.
"Err… y-yes, sir! Yes, sir!" she stammered, fumbling to grab her textbook from the desk.
The cover slipped in her hands as she scrambled to open it.
A few chuckles broke out around the room. Some students covered their mouths, while others failed to hide their grins.
"Ms. Takahashi, please continue where Takeru left off," the teacher said, tapping his pen lightly against the podium. The sound carried across the room, steady and impatient.
"Yes, sir," she muttered, flipping open her book.
Her heart thudded in her chest, each beat loud in her ears as she squinted at the blur of words on the page.
"Um, sir, I'm afraid I don't understand this," she said, brows knitting tighter the longer she stared.
"That's because your book is upside down, young lady."
Her face went hot in an instant.
"Oh… my bad, sir."
A wave of laughter rolled through the classroom.
Even the usually quiet students cracked smiles, their shoulders shaking.
Haruko lowered her head, strands of hair falling forward as she turned the book the right way up. The tips of her ears burned.
"Read line six on page eighty-six in the textbook, please," the teacher said with a weary sigh, pen tapping again against the podium.
Haruko's throat tightened. She swallowed, then forced the words out.
"And there he stood all alone, forgetting all the hard work he had done, all the things he had accomplished, all the great men and women he had met throughout his life, and all of his loved ones. He cried when he came to the realization that the old man was right."
"Thank you, Haruko. That was excellent English. Well done. But next time, please do not take my class for a nap session."
"I'm truly sorry, sir," she murmured, bowing her head slightly. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve.
When the bell rang minutes later, the classroom erupted in a flurry of chatter and shuffling feet.
Students spilled into the hallway, voices overlapping in excited clamor.
Haruko lingered a moment longer, stepping slowly, her mind still caught in the remnants of the dream.
Outside, the air smelled of fresh earth and sunlight.
Birds chirped in the nearby trees, wings rustling through the leaves.
A soft breeze tugged gently at her uniform.
Cherry blossom petals drifted down around her, brushing against her hair and shoulders like soft-pink snow.
She made her way to the quietest place on campus—a worn wooden bench nestled beneath a large cherry tree.
The bark felt rough and familiar under her hand as she lowered herself onto the seat.
The blossoms above stirred slightly, and a few petals drifted into her hair, brushing against her cheek.
"I haven't had a dream like that in years," she murmured, tilting her head back to watch the petals.
Her fingers absently twisted the edge of her skirt.
"I wonder if it's a message…"
Her voice faded as she clasped her hands in her lap, brows knitting in thought.
"I can't remember that person's face, where he came from, or if he's even around anymore. He just appeared out of nowhere and then disappeared without a trace. That little boy… despite smiling so brightly when he played basketball, carried a lot of burdens all by himself. I didn't understand back then, but I could see it in his eyes."
A light wind brushed across her face, carrying the faint scent of blossoms.
"He was the one who made me fall in love with the sport and dream of going pro at a very young age." She rested her hands on her knees, fingers tapping lightly against the fabric of her uniform.
"I trained hard every day to become a great player. I'm certain that if I continue playing basketball, our paths will cross one day. I would like to thank him for introducing me to the game."
"Haru, you look troubled."
Haruko lifted her gaze, blinking against the sunlight filtering through the blossoms, and saw Sayaka approaching.
Her bag swung lightly over one shoulder, a strand of brown hair brushing against her cheek with each step.
"No, it's nothing like that, Sayaka. I'm just lost in my thoughts," Haruko replied, pressing her palms lightly against the bench and forcing a small, uneven smile.
Sayaka lowered herself onto the bench beside her, setting her bag down with a soft thud that resonated against the wooden slats.
"Haruko, are you bothered by what our teammates say about you behind your back?" Sayaka asked, her voice low but sharp.
She leaned slightly forward, elbows resting lightly on her knees, eyes fixed on Haruko.
"I don't like how the younger girls gossip about you," she continued, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"They look down on you because they think they're better after our last game last season."
Her gaze softened briefly, though the tension in her shoulders remained.
"It must be hard to train and play with them while they talk behind your back. If it's bothering you, just give me the signal, and I'll talk some sense into them."
Haruko chuckled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"That won't be necessary, Sayaka. Maybe in the past, I was affected by what they said, but over time, I stopped caring and focused more on becoming a better player."
Sayaka tilted her head slightly, giving her a sideways smile, her fingers tapping lightly against her bag.
"I know you'll prove them all wrong this year. You're amazing."
Haruko's eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening just enough to show quiet determination.
"I definitely will. This time, I won't let what happened last season repeat itself."
She leaned back, staring up at the branches as memories returned like old bruises.
"We were up by six points halfway through the second quarter of our round-two match," Haruko began, tracing the edge of the bench with her fingertip as she recalled the memory.
"The score was twenty-two to sixteen. We were doing well—I was playing incredible defense and making a lot of good passes."
She paused, her shoulders tensing slightly as the memory sharpened.
"But after a while, the opposing team caught on to the fact that I couldn't score."
Her hands rested in her lap, fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt.
"There was nothing our coach could do. I was the only second-year capable of playing well enough to start. Sayaka, Suzume, and Kotone were inexperienced back then." She exhaled slowly.
"So, the coach had a hard time deciding whether to sub me out because it wouldn't have changed the outcome."
"For the remainder of the game, they left me unmarked and heavily guarded my teammates, forcing me to take shots before the shot clock ran out."
Haruko's hands curled into fists in her lap, knuckles white.
"I was useless. I couldn't help the team at all."
Sayaka remained quiet, her eyes steady on Haruko, giving her space to speak.
"In the end, we lost thirty-seven to twenty-six. My coach didn't blame me for the loss, and neither did the third-years. They all said I did my best." Haruko exhaled slowly, letting the memory weigh on her shoulders.
"But after our previous captain and coach decided to make me the captain this year, our juniors went ballistic." Her fists relaxed slightly as she ran a hand through her hair.
"They started bad-mouthing me, avoiding me, and ignoring my instructions when the coach wasn't around. It was a horrible experience for me."
Haruko inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of cherry blossoms filling her lungs, grounding her in the present.
"This time, I'll aim for the top and win once and for all." Her voice carried quiet determination.
Sayaka stood and extended a hand toward her.
"Then let's go show them who we are."
Haruko smiled, letting Sayaka pull her up.
She rose to her feet, the sunlight peeking through the branches, warming her face.
A single cherry blossom drifted down, landing gently on her shoulder.
This time, she wouldn't hesitate. This time, she'd rise.