"Alright then." Liam stretched his arms overhead, a light crack running through his shoulders. "My morning laps on the track are done, so I'm good to go."
He fell into step beside Hayato as they slipped through the gym's side entrance. The metal door closed with a dull echo, sealing in the stillness of the empty court. Light from the high windows spilled down in soft stripes, catching motes of dust that drifted lazily through the air. Their footsteps tapped against the polished floor, the faint scent of varnish and sweat hanging in the quiet.
Hayato walked over to the bench along the far wall and set his bag down with a soft thud. The zipper rasped open, followed by the faint rustle of fabric as he pulled out his gear. He changed quickly, the sound of his jersey brushing against his skin breaking the quiet.
Tugging the hem straight, he dropped onto the bench and tightened his laces, pulling each one firm until it bit against the top of his shoes. He pressed his soles to the floor and rocked lightly, testing the grip. The rubber squeaked against the polished wood—sharp, clean, and echoing through the empty gym.
Hayato pulled his headband tight, the fabric stretching as he tied it behind his head. "How about a friendly one-on-one—for old time's sake?"
Liam rolled his neck from side to side, a soft crack following each motion. His jogging shorts rustled as he slipped off his track jacket and tossed it over the bench. "Alright. But don't expect me to go easy on you."
"As if I wanted you to hold back." Hayato caught the ball from the rack and began to spin it slowly in his palm, the orange surface glinting under the high light. "We'll play ones and twos. Threes count as two, twos count as one. First to sixteen."
The steady rotation of the ball made a faint whirring sound, the rubber brushing against his fingertips before he stilled it against his hip.
"You haven't lost your tricks, huh?" Liam's brow lifted, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Trying to take advantage of the fact that I can't shoot."
Hayato tilted his head, the ball spinning lazily on his fingertip. "Heh… maybe it's a little underhanded. But if I'm going to win against you, I need every edge I can get."
The ball thumped softly into his palm, the echo stretching across the quiet gym.
"Alright… I'll take the shot, since you obviously can't." Hayato's smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stepped behind the three-point line.
He squared his feet, bent his knees, and flicked the ball forward. The leather spun crisply off his fingertips, cutting through the air before swishing neatly through the net. The soft swish echoed across the empty court.
"Lucky… first shot of the day, and it goes in." Hayato's grin widened as he bounced the ball lightly against the floor. "You're totally going down."
He tossed the ball toward Liam, the leather thumping softly into his hands. "Check up, you big old giant."
Liam caught the ball and gave a single nod, flipping it back toward Hayato. He lowered into a defensive stance, knees bent, arms wide. The soles of his shoes whispered against the polished floor as he shuffled into position, eyes locked on Hayato's every move.
Liam bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Bring it on! Let's see what you've got!"
Hayato held the ball, eyes narrowing as he studied Liam's stance. He gave a quick shoulder jerk, lifting the ball as if to shoot.
Liam stayed planted, a grin tugging at his lips. His gaze stayed locked on Hayato's midsection, body relaxed but ready, energy bubbling just beneath the surface.
Hayato muttered under his breath, spinning the ball once in his palm. So… you really think I'm bluffing, huh?
He adjusted his grip, flicked his wrist, and sent the ball arcing through the air. It spun cleanly, swishing through the net with a soft, satisfying sound.
Straightening, Hayato's chest rose with controlled breaths. "Two points. You better stick close if you want a chance—I'm on fire today."
Liam caught the rebound without hesitation, spinning the ball lightly in his hands before flicking it back to Hayato. The leather slapped neatly into Hayato's palm.
Hayato bounced the ball slowly, eyebrows furrowed. "Come on… you're not going to step up? Really giving me two more points just like that?"
Liam planted his feet, knees slightly bent, a calm grin on his face. "You've got to prove you can score efficiently before I start respecting those outside shots."
Hayato's lips twitched in a half-smile, a flicker of mock indignation in his eyes. "Alright… that's a little disrespectful. If you won't step up, then it's time for you to check up."
He launched another shot, the ball arcing toward the upper left corner of the backboard. It tapped sharply, rattling softly as it fell neatly through the net. The echo of the glass resonated across the quiet gym.
The ball bounced lightly against the polished floor, spinning before settling. Liam's brows drew together, jaw tightening as he squared his stance.
Hayato tilted his head, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. "Man… I'm on fire today! Three straight threes in a row. You're really just going to stand there and watch me run this sixteen to zero?"
The faint squeak of shoes against the hardwood punctuated the air, tension crackling quietly between them.
Liam grabbed the ball again, flipping it back toward Hayato, then stepped in close. His shoes squeaked sharply against the polished floor as he shifted his weight forward, eyes sparkling with playful determination.
Hayato crouched slightly, lowering his center of gravity, lips twitching into a small grin. "Now that's more like it. I thought you were just joking around."
He swept the ball low, feinting right before bursting left, brushing past Liam with a flash of speed. The rhythmic thump of the ball echoed with each dribble, tension tightening in the quiet gym.
Liam pivoted sharply, sprinting to keep up, but Hayato froze mid-drive, throwing off his timing. He planted firmly, knees bent, and pulled up for a mid-range jumper.
Liam, all 198 centimeters of him, leapt with a smooth, powerful motion. His hand slammed down on the ball, forcing it to ricochet loudly against the hardwood. The echo bounced across the empty gym, sharp and commanding.
Hayato's eyes widened, a low whistle slipping out. "Damn… so high—you really can jump." Half of Liam's hand is nearly above the rim… his reach catches me off guard.
Liam flipped the ball back smoothly. "Check up." His movements were lively and quick, but his expression stayed focused, eyes locked on Hayato.
This time, Hayato passed the ball back to him. Liam caught it and immediately used his body, backing Hayato toward the paint with deliberate, forceful steps. The ball thumped sharply against the floor with each dribble, his weight pressing Hayato backward.
Hayato muttered under his breath, teeth gritting slightly. Damn… he's really strong. He struggled to plant his feet, muscles tensing as he resisted the push.
Liam spun with his shoulder, slipping past Hayato in a smooth, controlled motion. He slammed the ball through the hoop with both hands; the backboard trembled, and the ball hit the floor with a sharp thud. He landed solidly on both feet, chest rising and falling steadily.
"Only fifteen more points to go." His voice was calm but charged with quiet energy, a playful smile on his face.
Hayato pushed his headband into place, jaw tightening slightly. "And you're saying I have the advantage…" His gaze sharpened, studying Liam carefully as the ball bounced between them.
After the next check, Liam planted his feet and exploded forward. Two sharp, powerful steps carried him past Hayato, and he rose with the ball in one hand, slamming it through the rim. The backboard shivered, metal rattling faintly as the ball thumped through the net. He landed solidly, knees bending slightly to absorb the impact, chest rising and falling steadily.
Immediately after, Liam grabbed the ball again, pivoting sharply to drive toward the hoop. Hayato tried to block him, but Liam's momentum and size made it nearly impossible to stop. He rose smoothly for a layup, guiding the ball off the backboard with precision. It dropped cleanly through the net, his focus already shifting to the next play, shoes squeaking softly against the polished floor.
Hayato wiped sweat from his forehead, his jersey sticking to his back. There's no way I can guard that. His eyes tracked Liam, noting the impossible combination of height, wingspan, and raw athleticism. I can't take him in the post… I'll have to figure out another way.
On the next possession, Liam faked left, a subtle shift of his shoulder and eyes selling the move. He slipped in a right-handed layup, guiding the ball gently off the backboard. It tapped softly and dropped through the net.
The following play, he floated the ball delicately over Hayato's outstretched arms. The leather bounced once on the rim before settling through the net, almost weightless in its arc.
Then he drove again, gathering his momentum and releasing a one-foot hook shot. The ball arced cleanly, rolling over the rim before dropping in, his landing controlled.
Using his size and leverage, Liam pressed Hayato backward, inch by inch, until he was deep under the basket. With a sudden burst, he rose and slammed the ball through the hoop, his elbow brushing the net as he came down. The backboard shivered, the leather thumping sharply against the floor.
Hayato's chest heaved, sweat dripping down his temple. If I let him anywhere near the post, I'm done for… He flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing. I've got to steal it before he even gets close.
Liam advanced, dribbling with deliberate rhythm, eyes locked on Hayato. With a sudden burst, he crossed to the left with a quick step, hop-stepped, and slammed a reverse dunk. His hands gripped the rim briefly, swinging lightly before landing solidly, the floor vibrating from the impact.
On the next possession, he shifted smoothly to his left hand, guiding the ball into a controlled layup. The leather kissed the backboard before dropping cleanly through the net, every movement precise yet fluid.
There's no way I'm beating him, Hayato thought, sweat dampening his jersey. I can't stop his offense… he's too strong, too explosive. Having him on our team? That would make us one of the best in the prefecture.
Back in possession, Liam glided toward the hoop and scored a smooth layup. The ball rolled around the rim before dropping cleanly through the net, the soft bounce echoing across the gym.
Liam flipped the ball between his hands, eyes glinting with quiet excitement. "Ten to four, just like that. Six more points and it's over. Your little tricks won't save you this time."
I may not have his height, but I'm not just going to roll over. Hayato planted his feet, bracing for the next play.
He flipped the ball to Liam, pressing his legs firmly into the floor as Liam backed him down again.
Just match his rhythm… wait for the split second the ball's exposed… now! Hayato's teeth clenched, muscles coiled. He lunged low, swiping across, and the ball rattled free from Liam's dribble.
Liam blinked, surprise flashing across his face as he stepped back. "Whoa… you actually took it from me. Not bad, Hayato."
Hayato dribbled past the arc, then exploded toward the rim, every step driving the floor beneath him. Liam followed in long, powerful strides, closing the distance quickly.
Just as Liam reached in to contest, Hayato hop-stepped, raising the ball… and pulled it down again, selling the fake perfectly. Liam soared past him, arms outstretched, the lane suddenly wide open.
He faked me out… and I fell for it, Liam realized mid-air, chest heaving as his eyes tracked the ball.
Hayato stepped through the gap and rose for the reverse layup. The ball kissed the glass, spinning off his fingertips before dropping neatly through the hoop.
Landing lightly, he let out a quiet breath, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Totally got you, didn't I?"
Liam shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "You were just lucky, that's all."
Hayato tightened his grip on the ball, eyes narrowing slightly. "We'll see about that… I'm going to turn this game around."
Liam flipped the ball back and dropped into his defensive stance, knees bent, eyes sharp.
He probably won't expect me to shoot now… Hayato thought, shifting his weight. I'll just take it to close the gap.
He rose for another three-pointer, the ball leaving his fingertips with a smooth flick.
But Liam had already read him. He leapt with perfect timing, palm meeting the ball at its apex, sending it flying off course.
You've got to be kidding me… he reached me from there? Hayato's chest tightened. His defense… it's almost impenetrable.
For the rest of the game, Liam didn't let up.
He powered past Hayato, muscles coiling with each step, and slammed a dunk hard enough to make the backboard shiver.
On the next possession, he rose again, twisting mid-air for a back-scratcher dunk that rattled the rim.
With the score at fifteen to five, Liam planted his feet, dribbled hard into the paint, and launched a two-handed slam. His grip held the rim for a brief second before releasing. The hardwood vibrated from the impact.
He landed with a solid thud, chest rising and falling steadily. "And that's game… sixteen to five."
Hayato planted his hands on his hips, chest rising with each heavy breath. "Yeah… you won fair and square. Though, you were definitely using your height to your advantage."
Liam hopped down from the low stage near the baseline, stretching his back and loosening his shoulders. "Don't start making excuses. A loss is a loss."
Hayato wiped sweat from his temple, a tired smile forming. "You're right. I accept it… this was really fun. We should do this again sometime."
Liam gave a small, genuine nod, eyes bright despite his own exhaustion. "Yeah… definitely."