Shinwa Gym – Morning Practice
Yuki Shirakawa clutched her clipboard like a shield as she watched Kenji from the bleachers. Three days. Three days since she'd uncovered the truth about his father's murder, and every time she opened her mouth to tell him, the words turned to ash.
How do you tell someone their father was executed over a gambling debt?
"Manager-chan!" Jiro's voice shattered her thoughts. He leaned over the railing, grinning. "You gonna stare at Tachibana all day or actually do your job?"
Kenji's head snapped up at the sound of her name—their eyes met—and Yuki immediately busied herself with stats she'd already memorized.
She couldn't face him. Not yet.
Manager-chan's been dodging you hard." Jiro's grin turned wicked. "What'd you do? Confess your undying love?"
Kenji's grip tightened around his water bottle. "Shut up."
Across the court, Haru Fujisawa adjusted his glasses, watching the exchange with a frown.
Something was wrong.
TeamMeetingatRin's
The team's group chat blew up midday:
<< Coach Morita: Practice canceled. Meet at Rin's apartment. 6 PM. Don't be late. >>
When Kenji arrived, he was met with chaos.
Rin's tiny apartment was crammed with the entire team—Akira arguing with Daichi over takeout orders, Jiro and his recruit Tatsuya arm-wrestling on the floor, and Haru projecting game footage onto the wall.
The footage playing on the wall was unsettling.
RakutoMilitaryAcademy moved like a single organism—each pass precise, each rotation seamless. There was no flash, no ego. Just cold, mechanical efficiency.
"They don't make mistakes," Haru said, adjusting his glasses. "But they also don't adapt. Ryusei beat them by forcing errors they couldn't recover from."
"So we piss them off," Jiro said, cracking his knuckles. "Easy."
Akira shook his head. "No. We outthink them."
A beat of silence. Then—
"Since when do we outthink anyone?" Tatsuya asked, earning a smack from Daichi.
Tatsuya's sudden laugh drew attention to his white shirt embroidered with Shinwa logo.
Kenji nearly choked. "Since when are you enrolled here?!"
"Since Coach pulled some strings," Jiro said, tossing Tatsuya a soda. "What? You thought we could recruit a rando?"
Daichi howled, slapping Kenji's back. "BAKA! You really thought—"
The doorbell rang.
Yuki stood outside Rin's apartment, her fist raised to knock.
Just tell him. Just say it.
But the moment her fingers brushed the door, she froze.
What would it do to him?
What would it do to the team?
The door swung open before she could decide. Daichi stood there, holding a bag of trash, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Yuki? You okay?"
Behind him, the team's laughter spilled into the hallway—bright and unburdened.
Kenji's voice, teasing Tatsuya about something.
Akira's rare, genuine laugh.
They were happy.
"I—I forgot something," Yuki stammered, stepping back.
And then she was running.
The Letter Opener
Ami Nakamura sat at her vanity, turning the silver letter opener over in her hands.
The engraved invitation to tomorrow's Kurogane Sports shoot lay in front of her, Kenji's name printed in elegant script.
"You'll oversee his commitments personally," Kaito had said, his smile razor-thin. "Ensure he... behaves."
Ami dragged the tip of the blade lightly across her palm, not enough to break skin—just enough to feel its bite.
Kenji had chosen them over her.
Her reflection smiled back at her, cold and sharp as the metal in her hand.
Tomorrow, he'd learn what betrayal really felt like.
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