As the game resumed, Makoto pushed the ball up the court, his shoes sliding lightly against the polished gym floor. A faint squeak echoed with each step as he scanned the court. His chest rose steadily with each breath, muscles loose but alert. He passed to Tetsuo, who caught the ball and settled into a ready stance, eyes locked onto Takahiro in front of him.
Takahiro immediately stepped up, closing the distance. Heat spread through his arms as he planted his feet. We can't let him land another three-pointer he thought, lowering his stance until his weight settled evenly across the floor. His breath steadied. His eyes moved between the ball and Tetsuo's torso, tracking each small shift in his muscles, waiting for the next movement.
Without warning, Yukio sprinted over and pressed his body into Takahiro's side with a firm screen. A dull thud spread through Takahiro's ribs, knocking his balance off for a moment. Tetsuo slipped through the space that opened, his steps light as he curved around the screen and dribbled up to the top of the arc. He stopped just behind the line, rose into the air, and let the ball go with a smooth flick of his wrist.
His arm stayed lifted. The ball rotated cleanly through the air, and the net snapped with a sharp, dry swish.
Takahiro let out a short breath as he jogged up the court. A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, his steps light against the floor. He really can't miss even once, he thought, a faint annoyance tightening his chest.
On the next possession, Hayato caught the inbound and moved down the court with steady dribbles. As he reached the three-point line, he set his lead foot and lifted into his shot without slowing. The quick release startled Makoto, his shoulders tensing for a beat. The ball struck the rim, bounced once with a dull tap, and dropped through the net with a soft rattle.
Hayato pointed toward Tetsuo, the corner of his mouth lifting as his breath eased out. "That makes us even, Tetsuo."
Makoto let out a slow breath, his eyelids lowered in a dull stare. "No matter how you look at it, that shot was lucky. When it actually matters in a game, don't expect me to pass to you." His gaze stayed lazy as he lifted one hand toward the sideline, quietly asking for the inbound.
Hayato jogged backward on defense, his feet light against the floor. He lifted a hand slightly. "I did not miss. And the score is still close, so it was the right choice."
Makoto raised the ball and flicked a quick hand signal. Yukio hustled into position, pressing firmly into a screen near the top. As Makoto curved around, Liam and Hayato followed closely, keeping their weight ready to block any easy roll. Makoto paused at the elbow, shifted his balance, and lifted into a shot, releasing with a sharp flick of his wrist.
The ball thudded against the backboard, then dropped through the net cleanly, the mesh snapping quietly.
Nanaho's eyes followed the movement across the court, her fingers tightening slightly on the clipboard. This is strange… it feels like those two have been playing together for years.
Hayato ran back upcourt and raised one arm. "Makoto! One-on-one!" He lowered his stance, weight balanced on his feet. Makoto gave a subtle nod, bouncing lightly on his heels. They matched in height, their gazes holding—neither yielding.
Hayato lunged forward, a quick step to the right, but Makoto's hands moved first. The ball thumped against his palm and dropped to the floor with a dull bounce.
Hayato exhaled sharply, pivoting on his heel and pressing forward. Crap… he stole it, he thought, pushing his legs harder.
Makoto dribbled quickly, his breathing even and controlled. He glanced over his shoulder, noting Hayato's proximity, and also spotted Shino moving in on the opposite wing. Just before reaching the paint, he pivoted, flicking the ball behind him. Hayato froze for a moment, caught off guard.
Shino caught the ball in stride, his feet moving in two quick steps. His chest rose and fell steadily as he rose and laid it off the glass. The ball struck the backboard and slipped through the net with a soft, clean sound.
On the sideline, Nanaho crossed her arms, her eyes following the play. A quiet smile tugged at her lips. Makoto's team clearly has the greatest advantage… but what could I do? She tapped her finger lightly against the clipboard tucked beneath her arm. I couldn't put Yukio and Liam on the same team.
Back on the court, Hayato passed to Liam, who had positioned himself deep in the post. Yukio pressed a forearm into Liam's back, trying to slow him, but Liam twisted lightly, shifting his weight, and stepped strongly into the paint. He rose smoothly and laid the ball off the glass. The backboard thudded, and the ball slipped through the net with a clean snap.
Makoto dribbled the ball again, chest rising and falling steadily. He passed to Yukio, who planted his feet in a triple-threat stance, fingers brushing the ball lightly. Liam stayed firm in front of him, knees bent, eyes bright with focus and anticipation.
Yukio jabbed forward, lifting his shoulders slightly as he faked a shot. Liam's eyes flickered, and his body tensed for a moment. Yukio drove toward the baseline, dribbling low, chest brushing against Liam's shoulder as he passed. The two collided near the edge of the paint.
Yukio spun free, sliding left, and rose toward the rim. Liam sprang up after him, timing his jump precisely. His palm connected with the ball mid-air, sending it thudding to the floor. The sharp echo of the block filled the gym.
Hayato reacted instantly, scooping up the loose ball. His fingers pressed firmly against the rubber as he sent a sharp pass down the court.
"Noboru, catch!"
The ball arced through the air. Noboru stretched upward, fingers closing around it, and rose into a smooth layup off the glass. The backboard thudded, and the ball slipped through the net quietly.
Makoto moved quickly, chest rising and falling steadily. He passed to Yukio again. This time, Liam stayed grounded, knees bent, waiting for the drive. Yukio lifted off, but instead of shooting, he flicked the ball to Tetsuo, who had slipped through a screen set by Shino.
Tetsuo caught the ball mid-stride, shifting his weight, and sent it off the backboard over Liam's late-reaching hand. The ball thudded softly against the board and dropped through the net.
"Come on, Takahiro! Watch him—he's really fast!" Hayato's chest rose and fell sharply, breath ragged but controlled.
"Yeah… sorry about that. I'll get him next time." Takahiro's shoulders tightened as he adjusted his stance, chest rising steadily.
Hayato brought the ball up, fingers tingling from the firm dribble. Reaching the wing, he passed to Takahiro, who immediately returned it and cut through the key. Hayato faked a move to the right to draw Makoto, then slid the ball back to Takahiro.
Takahiro caught it in stride. Tetsuo stepped up to contest. Takahiro shifted his weight subtly, pressing his shoulder to create space. He absorbed the contact, rising strongly and shielding the ball with his torso.
The layup struck the glass and fell through cleanly. Both of them landed, Takahiro breathing heavily. You might be talented, Tetsuo… but there is still much room for growth and experience, he thought, jogging back into position, sweat glistening along his arms.
Near the stairs, a group of girls had arrived.
"Oh… they are still training." Harumi's eyes followed the court, shoulders relaxed but alert.
"I am glad we arrived on time. I don't want to miss any of their practice." She shifted slightly, leaning forward.
"Yes… me too. I like to watch Yukio play." One friend's fingers brushed the railing as she leaned in.
"Shino is cute." Another tilted her head, a small smile forming.
"Let us do our best to cheer for them during practice, okay?" Harumi lifted a hand slightly. The others nodded, faces bright with anticipation.
Back on the court, Tetsuo caught the ball, fingers gripping the rubber firmly. He inhaled slowly, chest rising and falling steadily. Takahiro stayed close, knees bent, ready to move. Tetsuo jabbed left; Takahiro slid. Tetsuo pivoted on his foot, stepped forward, and released a controlled layup.
The ball rotated through the air and slipped through the net with a clean swish.
"Wow… nice one, Kawaguchi. Brilliant play!" a girl's voice rose, fingers gripping the railing.
"Nice shot, Kawaguchi. Keep it up. I am rooting for you," another said, shoulders leaning forward slightly.
"Tetsuo… that was a nice shot. Great work." Harumi smiled, chest rising and falling steadily as she watched.
Noboru's ears twitched. I know those voices… those annoying fangirls again, he thought, teeth pressing together lightly.
He turned toward them, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked up. "How many times do I have to tell you girls to stop coming here? You are distracting us from training. Do you not have anything better to do after school than watch them?" He flicked his hand lightly, motioning for them to leave.
"Do not act as if you own the gym. You cannot tell me what to do!" a girl's voice rose, fingers tightening lightly on the railing.
"Yes… she is right. We are not here to watch you. You are too short to matter anyway. So… stay quiet and move aside." Another girl crossed her arms, shoulders stiffening slightly.
"Who the heck are you calling short? I am taller than all of you. Now…leave before I make you." Noboru's chest rose faster, jaw tightening as he stared at them.
"Uh… Noboru… you know we are still in a game, yes?" Hayato held the ball at his side, fingers resting lightly on the rubber, shoulders tense but controlled.
That idiot… Makoto exhaled softly, shoulders lifting slightly. I knew he would be annoying.
"But from where I am standing… you look very small compared to the rest of the team." The girl leaned slightly forward, eyebrows narrowing.
"You… say that, yet you have freckles on your face, hiding them with those glasses." Noboru's jaw tightened, eyes narrowing as he stared at her.
"Are you saying I look strange?" The girl's eyes glistened, tears forming at the corners. Her shoulders sank slightly as she stayed on the floor.
"That was uncalled for. You made her cry!" Her friend stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders, holding her gently. The girl's body sagged slightly into the embrace, and her breathing eased.
"If you have a problem with me, then just leave." Noboru crossed his arms, chest rising and falling sharply.
Nanaho blew her whistle, bringing the game to a halt. She stepped onto the court and tapped him lightly on the back of the head. The sharp sound echoed briefly.
"Ouch… what was that for?" Noboru pressed his hand to the spot, shoulders stiffening.
"You just hurt that girl's feelings… I am disappointed. You will stay after training and clean everything by yourself." Nanaho's chest rose steadily as she straightened, a small smile on her lips. "You will learn how to respect a lady."
"But… that is not fair! They started it!" His hands tightened slightly at his sides, shoulders tensing, chest rising rapidly.
"Noboru… come on. Stay alert." Hayato's fingers pressed firmly on the ball as he stepped onto the court.
Noboru caught the ball quickly, fingers gripping the rubber, and passed to Liam, already cutting toward the hoop. Liam's feet pounded the hardwood, chest rising with each step. He rose strongly and laid the ball in, uncontested.
On the return, Yukio sank a two-pointer from the wing, body steady. Hayato responded with a three-pointer, the ball rotating cleanly through the net.
Makoto dribbled slowly, chest rising and falling evenly, eyes scanning. He performed a sharp crossover on Hayato and drove forward. Liam stepped up, waiting, knees bent. Makoto halted, rose lightly, and released a soft floater in the paint. The ball fell through.
Liam slammed the ball into the rim, jumping and gripping the rim briefly before landing.
Makoto passed ahead to Shino, who sprinted past everyone in transition, chest pumping, fingers brushing the ball as he rose for a layup off the glass. His momentum carried him under the rim.
Noboru inbounded quickly and received the return pass, charging down the court with legs pumping and finished another fast-break layup.
Makoto seized the ball again and passed to Tetsuo, who caught it on the wing, chest steady, eyes on the hoop. Takahiro slid into position. Tetsuo faked once, pivoted, and rose for a sudden floater. The ball dropped in smoothly.
"Come on, Hayato… only a few seconds left. You must score." Nanaho's chest rose and fell steadily as she watched the timer from the sideline.
So… Nanaho is picking sides now, Yukio thought, eyes narrowing slightly, a small smirk forming.
No need to worry, Nanaho. I will not let them take the first quarter. Hayato's breathing stayed steady as he crossed half-court.
Makoto stood in front of him. Hayato motioned subtly toward Liam for a screen. The moment it arrived, he used it and released the ball just inside the arc.
The ball rotated cleanly through the air and slipped through the net as the whistle sounded.
Let's go. Hayato's chest rose and fell rapidly, a brief tension in his shoulders as he moved.
This game is intense. They are really fighting out there… thirty to thirty, tied. Nanaho's eyes widened slightly, pupils alert as she followed the play.