The morning sun beamed softly through the high windows of the gymnasium, casting golden streaks across the polished wooden floor. Sneakers squeaked with every sharp cut and pivot. The rhythmic sound of dribbling echoed off the walls like a metronome setting the pace for the game. Sweat-drenched jerseys clung to moving bodies, muscles straining under the intensity of the scrimmage. It was early, but the gym was packed—students from all grades watched from the sidelines or leaned over the railings from above. Something electric was in the air.
Makoto dribbled the basketball upcourt with a steady rhythm, his eyes scanning the defense. Hayato stepped up, arms wide, staying low in his stance. Makoto hesitated for a brief second, then zipped a sharp pass to his right. Shino caught it cleanly—but he was immediately met by Takahiro, who slid in front of him with textbook defense.
Shino, without wasting time, pivoted on his left foot and dished it to Tetsuo, who was just outside the arc on the left wing. Tetsuo gripped the ball, dribbling between his legs, trying to shake Yukio. But Yukio's defense was suffocating, shadowing every move with perfect timing and footwork.
On the weak side, Tadao suddenly feinted a sprint toward the rim. Liam, his defender, bit on the move for half a second. That was all Tadao needed. He spun back and darted toward Tetsuo.
"Quick pass!" he yelled.
Tetsuo acted like he was going to shoot, lifting the ball above his head. Yukio jumped to contest—but it was a fake. Tetsuo snapped a no-look pass to Tadao, who caught it at the top of the free-throw line. He took one power dribble, gathered his steps, and exploded toward the rim. His body soared, legs tucked mid-air, his right hand pulling the ball back before slamming it down through the hoop with violent grace.
"Yes! Let's go!!" Tadao shouted with a prideful grin, his voice echoing through the gym.
"Well, what do you know," Yukio said with a knowing smile, arms folded. "Looks like he still has that ferocious energy and power."
Despite it being only his first official day in team training, Tadao was already making his skills known. Nanaho, observing from the sidelines, couldn't help but be impressed. "This morning, when we started running laps, he kept pace with Yukio and Liam—the two with the best stamina on the team. That's no easy feat. He nailed all the drills we set up, reading the court like a seasoned player, like he hadn't left the sport at all. And now look at him…" Her eyes followed the scrimmage intensely. "He's giving Liam and the others a hard time. He's relentless."
Tomoe blinked in surprise, standing beside Nanaho. "There are way more people here than usual."
"That's just because training got a lot more interesting," Nanaho replied with a smirk.
Despite being slightly shorter than Liam—by about three inches—Tadao made up for it with explosive strength and sheer athleticism. His footwork was solid, and his leaping ability rivaled the best. It was already helping Liam push himself harder.
"As for me," Yukio said, stretching his arms while keeping his eyes locked on the court, "I finally get the opportunity to guard Tetsuo. He needs someone to challenge him—push him beyond his limits. That's the only way he'll elevate his game."
The ball was inbounded to Hayato, who swiftly passed it into the post to Liam. Tadao stepped up to meet him, arms wide, feet planted firmly on the floor.
"You're not getting past me," Tadao said, voice low and serious.
Liam tried to muscle through him, throwing his shoulder into Tadao's chest, but Tadao didn't budge—his legs like pillars driven into the hardwood. The crowd murmured in anticipation. Liam gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing. Then, in one sudden movement, he dropped his hips and pounded the ball hard into the floor, his foot pivoting sharply.
The force and surprise of the move caused Tadao to lose balance, stumbling back a half-step.
Liam turned on the drop, exploded upward, and with both hands, slammed the ball into the hoop.
BOOM.
Cheers erupted around the gym.
"Nice dunk, Liam!" a boy from class 2-O called out.
"That's my classmate! Keep up the good work, Liam!" a girl shouted, clapping excitedly from the stands.
Liam turned toward the spectators and gave a wide, bright smile. "Yes! Thank you!" he called back, chest heaving.
Shino took the ball from under the rim and inbounded it to Makoto, who began dribbling it upcourt. As he crossed half-court, Hayato stepped up, guarding him closely, feet dancing and hands ready.
Makoto leaned low and crossed the ball between his legs, baiting Hayato to bite. Hayato flinched right—just as Makoto spun the opposite way, slipping past him with lightning speed.
"Whoa!" gasped someone from the crowd. Makoto surged ahead.
Tadao, now freed from Liam, sprinted toward the open lane. "Pass the ball!" he barked, waving his arms.
But Makoto ignored him. Instead, he flicked a quick pass to Tetsuo, who caught it fluidly at the top of the arc.
Yukio was already in motion, leaping high to contest the shot.
Tetsuo's release was smooth and fast—an elegant flick of the wrist.
Swish.
"Nice shot, Kawaguchi!" shouted Harumi from the crowd, joined by several of her friends.
"That kid really is something else. That's his third three," a third-year student muttered, arms crossed in admiration.
Makoto jogged over and offered Tetsuo a fist bump. "Nice shot, man."
Tetsuo gave a small nod and bumped his fist in return.
But Tadao wasn't having it.
"Hey," he snapped, stomping over. "Why didn't you pass? I was wide open, and Tetsuo was guarded."
Makoto glanced at him. "In that situation, passing to Tetsuo was the best option. That's all there is to it."
"Bullshit!" Tadao snarled, grabbing a fistful of Makoto's shirt. "You haven't passed to me once this whole game, and you know it!"
Makoto didn't flinch. "And so what if that's true? What are you gonna do—punch me?"
Tadao's nostrils flared. For a moment, it looked like he might explode, but instead, he let go with a growl and turned away.
The students watching whispered among themselves, tense and confused.
Naomi and the other track girls jogged rhythmically around the school field, the late morning sun glinting off their foreheads. Laughter mixed with steady breaths as they ran, but Naomi's pace suddenly slowed when she caught sight of a large crowd gathered outside the basketball gym.
She came to a stop, wiping her brow as she peered toward the commotion.
"I wonder what's going on in there," she mumbled, catching the attention of her friends.
"I heard it's an intense scrimmage," one of the girls replied between breaths. "The basketball team's been training really hard lately."
Naomi's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Oh? Let's check it out before class starts." Without waiting for a reply, she veered off the track and began jogging toward the gym entrance, her teammates trailing behind her.
Inside the gym, the energy was electric. Sneakers squeaked against the hardwood floor, the thump of the ball echoed off the walls, and sweat dripped from determined faces. The air was thick with tension and focus.
"Come on, Shino! Let Noboru have a turn!" Nanaho called from the sidelines, clipboard in hand.
"Right…!" Shino gasped, wiping his forehead as he staggered toward the bench.
"About damn time," Noboru muttered under his breath, rolling his shoulders as he stepped onto the court.
On the court, Yukio had possession. Tetsuo tightened his stance in front of him, eyes sharp, tracking every movement. Yukio dribbled hard with his right, then crossed over to his left in a flash, slipping past Tetsuo. But just as it looked like he'd cleared him, Tetsuo recovered quickly, cutting him off again.
With a smirk, Yukio pounded the ball into the hardwood, stepped back, and rose for a mid-range jumper. The ball sailed in a clean arc and swished through the net.
Tetsuo exhaled, his breath heavy but controlled.
"Nice try," Yukio said coolly, jogging back on defense. "But it's gonna take more than that to stop me."
The next possession came quickly. Makoto secured a rebound and whipped a long pass to Noboru, who sprinted down the court for a fast break. He rose for a layup, but out of nowhere, Liam flew in and smacked the ball off the glass with authority.
"Goddammit," Noboru muttered as he scrambled to get back on defense.
Liam quickly scooped up the loose ball and passed to Hayato, who dashed forward with quick footwork before zipping a no-look pass to Takahiro. The crowd gasped as Takahiro finished with an easy layup.
Tadao took the next possession into his own hands. With raw power, he bulldozed through the defense and slammed the ball down with a thunderous dunk. The gym erupted in cheers. Moments later, he was back on defense, swatting Takahiro's layup attempt off the backboard like it was nothing.
Then came a smooth three-pointer from Tetsuo, his form sharp and effortless.
Hayato answered right back with a three of his own.
Makoto hit a mid-range jumper from the elbow.
Back and forth they went, the gym roaring with every bucket. The players moved like pros, pushing their limits with every play.
Finally, Nanaho blew her whistle, signaling a break. The players collapsed onto the benches, drenched in sweat but alive with adrenaline.
"Good work today," Nanaho called out, clipboard tucked under one arm. "I saw everyone pushing their limits. That's what I want to see—effort, not perfection. Keep that mindset, and we'll go far. Now grab your things and get to class before the bell rings."
Murmurs of appreciation followed as the players began to gather their belongings. Some exchanged tired high-fives, others dragged themselves toward the exit, still catching their breath. Tetsuo picked up his water bottle and walked toward the door, where Tomoe was waiting. She handed him a towel with a bright smile, chatting animatedly as the two exited the gym together.
Yukio watched them for a moment, his arms folded across his chest, then turned to Nanaho, who was scribbling something down on her clipboard.
"So," he asked, keeping his voice low, "what do you think of him?"
Nanaho didn't look up right away, but the faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth gave her away. "Tadao?"
Yukio nodded.
"He's a surprise," she said at last, closing the clipboard with a firm snap. "He plays really well—aggressive, sure, but there's control under it. He knows what he's doing. He doesn't shy away from contact, and he doesn't care who's in front of him. He was what the team was missing—someone strong enough to be an unstoppable force."
Yukio leaned against the wall, considering her words. "Yeah. He's rough around the edges, but when he gets going, he's like a freight train. It's hard not to feel the shift when he's on the court."
There is clearly still tension between Makoto and Tadao, but hopefully it fades with time because holding onto that kind of resentment will only weigh them both down. They've already been through enough, and whether or not they ever see eye to eye, at least finding a way to coexist peacefully would be a step forward—for the team, and for themselves.
"If they are able to work well with each other, the Inter-High is not that far out of reach after all."