Hayato leaned back on his hands, eyes tracing the hoop above them. "Hey… do you remember the day we first met?" His voice was easygoing, but a quiet nostalgia lingered beneath the words.
Beside him, Liam sat cross-legged on the polished gym floor, the faint scent of varnish and rubber lingering in the still air. He leaned back against the cool wall, the chill seeping through his track pants as the hum of the overhead lights filled the quiet.
The flickering glow washed softly over their faces, catching in the smooth surface of the court.
Liam chuckled softly, his shoulders relaxing as he looked toward Hayato. "Yeah, of course I do. You were my first Japanese friend, remember? When I first came here, nobody in my grade even tried talking to me."
He tilted his head, smiling a little wider. "I mean, I get it—I barely knew any Japanese back then, and I guess my height didn't help either. Everyone probably thought I was some kind of transfer teacher or something." He laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
"But still, not a single 'hello'? That was rough." His voice softened just a touch before brightening again. "Then you just showed up out of nowhere one day. Totally caught me off guard."
The memory came back with surprising clarity. The sun had been blazing that afternoon, beating down on the wide concrete courtyard until the air itself seemed to shimmer. His uniform shirt clung uncomfortably to his back, damp with sweat.
Near the edge of the schoolyard, Liam stood alone, fingers fidgeting with the strap of his backpack as voices echoed from a distance.
He spotted a small group of girls chatting near the water fountain. Their laughter carried lightly on the air.
He hesitated, tightening his grip on his backpack strap before stepping closer. His words stumbled, half-Japanese and halting, as he tried to speak. "Uh, excuse me… can you tell me where—uh—the second-year classrooms are?"
The girls blinked, glancing at each other before one tilted her head, eyes flicking from his face to his height. She stumbled backward slightly, hands tightening at her sides. "Eh… he's so tall…"
Another pressed her notebook to her chest, biting her lip, gaze darting nervously. "Is he… a teacher?"
A third laughed, a short, uneasy sound, nudging her friend with her elbow. "No way… he's wearing our uniform!"
Liam forced a small smile, throat dry, and stepped a little closer. His voice wavered, half-Japanese spilling out in broken syllables. "Um… classroom? I'm… lost."
The girls froze, glances flicking toward one another. One gave a quick bow before spinning on her heel, the others following, murmuring hurried apologies as they retreated. Their skirts swayed with each step, footsteps fading into the heat until the courtyard was quiet again.
He lingered for a moment, eyes fixed on the empty spot where they'd been. His shoulders slumped slightly, a soft exhale escaping him. Right… thanks anyway… The words came out low and hesitant, barely above the whisper of the hot air around him.
He glanced around the courtyard, the sun beating down, warming the concrete beneath his shoes. At this rate… I'll never find my class, he muttered to himself, fingers tightening on his backpack strap.
A voice cut through the heat of the courtyard, sharp and cheerful.
"Hey, you down there! Whoa… you're huge! What are they feeding you?" Hayato called out, hopping from one foot to the other, grin wide as he leaned on the edge of the steps.
Liam's eyes widened, blinking a few times as he turned toward the voice. His palms felt slick against the strap of his backpack, brain scrambling to piece together the Japanese he only half-understood.
You… mean me? His words wobbled, unsure, almost swallowed by the noise around them.
Hayato scratched the side of his cheek, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips as he stepped closer. His words stumbled a little in Japanese, careful but clumsy. "Oh… I'm sorry. Your Japanese probably isn't that good…" He paused, then took a breath and switched to English, pronunciation rough but full of effort. "Nice to meet you. I'm Hayato Nakajima. And you are?"
Liam let his shoulders drop slightly, the tension easing as he met Hayato's gaze. "I'm Liam Ainsworth."
Hayato's eyes lit up with curiosity, his tone lifting playfully. "So, Liam—where are you from?"
"I'm from the United Kingdom, that's... England."
A quick once-over followed, Hayato's eyes glinting as he leaned in with an almost scientific curiosity. "Whoa… you're really tall. Do all people from overseas grow like that? How old are you, anyway?"
Liam blinked, straightening a little. "What do you mean? I'm fourteen, just like you."
Hayato's brows shot up so high they nearly vanished under his fringe. A short laugh burst out of him, and he gave his head a light shake.
"Man, that's wild! Have you ever thought about basketball? You'd be amazing at it, seriously!" His feet bounced lightly against the ground, energy brimming through his movements.
Liam shifted his stance, one hand brushing against his thigh. "I… haven't really thought about it. I'm on the track team, so I'm not sure I could play seriously."
Hayato's grin faltered for a moment, the excitement in his tone dipping just slightly. "Ah… that's too bad."
"It wouldn't hurt to try, though," Liam murmured, rubbing the back of his neck as a soft breeze stirred the dust nearby. "But I can't take it as seriously as running a hundred meters."
The spark returned instantly—Hayato's grin widening as he stepped forward, full of renewed confidence. "Fair enough! Then let's play after school. I'll teach you everything I know." His hand came up in a casual thumbs-up, eyes gleaming.
Liam's lips curved into a small smile. The air between them felt lighter now.
He could still feel the ball in his hands that afternoon—the worn leather rough against his palms, the scrape of sneakers echoing on concrete, the sting on his fingertips from a too-hard pass. And when the ball finally hit the backboard and dropped clean into the hoop, something in him sparked awake. It wasn't the focused rush of sprinting—it was looser, warmer… something that felt a little like joy.
Liam's voice softened as memories surfaced. "You taught me everything I know about basketball—how to make a layup, dribble, pass… even how not to travel." A small grin tugged at his lips. "You showed me tons of dunk videos too, and after a while, I finally managed to pull one off. Even though basketball wasn't my main sport, I really started to love it. That rush you get from a dunk—it's addictive. We always crushed it in street games, and somehow, even with me still learning, we kept winning."
Beside him, Hayato's posture shifted, the easy grin fading from his face. His fingers brushed over the court's polished surface before curling into a loose fist.
"Liam…" His voice dropped, low and serious now, almost swallowed by the faint hum of the empty gym. "I've been thinking…"
Liam blinked, leaning forward a little. "What's up?"
Hayato drew in a breath, eyes locking with his. "Would you join the basketball team?" His tone wavered for only a second before firming with conviction. "No—actually, I want you to join."
The words lingered between them, heavy and unmoving. Liam felt his heartbeat stumble once, a quiet thud against his ribs. He glanced away, letting out a slow breath through his nose as his eyes followed a drifting speck of dust in the sunbeam cutting across the court.
"Come on, Hayato…" His voice was light, but the edge of discomfort was there. "Don't joke around like that. You know I'm a track athlete—I've been running for years. It's what I do."
Hayato didn't laugh. His shoulders stayed still, eyes fixed on the floorboards ahead. When he finally spoke, his tone was calm but unshakably firm. "I'm not joking. The team needs someone like you, Liam. If we want to make it to the Inter-High… we can't do it without your strength."
Liam breathed out again, slower this time. The faint squeak of his sneaker broke the silence as he shifted his footing against the polished floor. A faint frown crossed his face, not from irritation—but from the quiet weight of Hayato's belief pressing in on him.
"Listen… I'm really sorry, Hayato. I want to help, honestly. But I've been running for years. I can't just stop now." Liam's shoulders tensed slightly as he spoke, eyes flicking to the floor.
Hayato gave a small nod, his gaze steady and unflinching.
"Okay… I get it. But promise me one thing." He leaned forward a little, locking eyes with Liam.
"And… what's that?"
"Run for yourself. Just for you. Have fun while doing it. I know it won't be easy, and everyone's odds are stacked against you… but leave them behind." Hayato's fist extended slowly, firm but not harsh.
Liam stared at it for a moment, then lifted his own fist. The bump was quiet but solid, warm in the brief contact.
"Of course… thanks, Hayato."
The homeroom buzzed with chatter. Students leaned over desks, nudged friends, and laughed while flipping through newspapers. Sunlight slanted through the high windows, scattering across the polished floorboards and glinting off scattered pens and papers.
A girl in class 1T twisted in her seat, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, eyes bright. "Did you guys hear?"
From the doorway, a girl in 1O leaned forward, peering into the room with curiosity, her fingers tapping the doorframe. "Hear what?"
The first girl held up a page, the edges rustling under her grip. "The newspaper club wrote an article on our basketball team. They lost by just one point in a practice match against one of the top schools in the prefecture—Yokonan High."
Gasps and murmurs ran through the group, voices rising and falling in excitement.
In the hallway, a girl's hand shot out to grab the newspaper, eyes wide. "No way… are you serious? Let me see that paper!"
She flipped through it rapidly, fingers tapping the edges of the pages. A pause hung for a moment, then her voice spilled out, high and breathless. "Oh my god… they're so handsome!"
The other girls leaned closer, fingertips drumming lightly on the desk. Pages shuffled under their hands.
"Especially this one," a girl whispered, eyes sparkling. "Shino Katsuragi… he's so adorable."
Another girl peeked over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. "Wait… this guy is Yukio? He's in my class! He scored twenty-five points in the match." Pride edged her voice.
A second-year girl giggled, covering her mouth. "Wow… he looks so mature. I'll have to watch him during practice now."
A third voice added, hand pressed to her chest, eyes wide. "And Tetsuo Kawaguchi… he's gorgeous. I can't take my eyes off him. I think… I'm in love."
A quiet murmur noted his performance. "He was the main scorer with twenty-seven points, and he's only a first-year. That's incredible."
A third year girl in the back nodded, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Totally. These guys are really bringing the team back to life, taking over from Seiji."
Naomi sat near the edge of the group, a corner of the newspaper folded neatly between her fingers.
She tilted her head slightly, voice soft but clear. "The rebirth of Toshigawa Academy's basketball team… they did really well yesterday."
Sachiko blinked, leaning closer, eyebrows lifted. "Really… we did well?"
Naomi's lips curved faintly. She held the paper a little higher. "Yes. We only lost by one point against the second-ranked team in the prefecture. Oh… it looks like Tetsuo made the front page. Want to see?"
Sachiko's hand flew to her bangs, brushing them aside. "What do you mean by that?"
Naomi just shrugged lightly, lips twitching with a suppressed smirk.
Sachiko crossed her arms, cheeks warming slightly. "I'm glad our school represented us well… I just… it's natural to want to see the newspaper. It's not like I want it to see Tetsuo or anything," she added quickly, glancing away.
Naomi raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet, folding the paper again, a tiny curl of her lips the only sign of amusement.
Nearby, Noboru slouched over his desk, flipping a pencil between his fingers. He lifted his gaze, a grin forming. "Hey, Tetsuo… guess what?"
Tetsuo blinked slowly, rubbing the corner of his eye. "Huh?" His voice was flat, still drowsy as he sat upright.
Noboru leaned forward eagerly. "We're on the first page of the newspaper! We did really well against Yokonan."
Tetsuo's expression stayed unreadable, eyes drifting toward the window. His voice was quiet, almost dismissive. "Yes… we did. But it doesn't interest me."
Across the room, Naomi set the paper aside. Noboru spotted her and pushed himself up from the desk.
"Hey, Naomi… so you saw the newspaper? How do I look? Don't be shy."
Naomi didn't look up, folding her hands around the paper. "For your information… your face didn't make the front page. But you scored eight points, so that's something."
Noboru's grin faltered, then he tried to wink. "Yeah… I know. I'm awesome, right?"
A flicker of shock passed over him. "Wait… you just said my picture isn't in the newspaper?"
Naomi glanced at him, calm. "Yes. Who would care to see your face first thing in the paper? The article would've been meaningless."
"Let me see that!" Noboru jumped up, snatching the paper. His fingers crushed it slightly as he scanned furiously, voice rising. "No way! How did that amateur make the front page and I didn't?! He only scored two points and I got eight! Oh… unless… Rie is behind this! I'll get her!"
Groans and laughter spread across the desks.
A few desks away, Tetsuo leaned his head into his palm, silent, staring out the window. His expression never changed.