After the ball was inbounded, Makoto felt the pressure of Noboru and Hayato closing in from both sides.
His eyes swept the court, noting Yukio pinned by Liam and Tetsuo shadowed by Takahiro. Shino's steps echoed lightly on the hardwood as he cut toward the rim.
Makoto adjusted his grip on the ball, the leather pressing firmly against his fingers, and sent a quick pass into Shino's hands.
The ball thudded into Shino's hand. Fingers pressing firmly against the leather, he dribbled once, chest rising steadily. I caught it… Now to score... and secure our victory.
As he lifted toward the rim, a shadow fell across him. Liam's outstretched arm met the ball, sending it snapping against the backboard. The sharp echo rolled across the court, reverberating through the polished floorboards.
Shino's eyes widened as he fell onto his back. I didn't see him… how did he get back so fast?
Liam caught the rebound, his sneakers squeaking lightly on the floor, and passed the ball to Takahiro. Takahiro moved quickly, sending a firm pass to Hayato in transition. Makoto stepped forward, his feet brushing against the court as he readied himself to guard.
Nanaho's lips curved slightly. This is exactly what I expected.
Her eyes followed the court, scanning the players' positions. You thought you had the upper hand on my strategy, Makoto, but you didn't. You didn't think it through, especially in a four-on-three situation.
Shino pushed himself up from the floor, palms scraping the hardwood. He moved back toward defense, but he was too late. Noboru stepped into Makoto's path, pressing his shoulder slightly to set a screen. Liam planted firmly in front of Tetsuo, blocking his route.
Takahiro and Liam cut toward the paint, sneakers squeaking lightly. Tetsuo and Yukio followed, adjusting their steps to keep pace. Hayato dribbled, pressing off the screen, and passed to Takahiro. Takahiro rose, laid the ball in, and the net swished quietly.
"Alright, let's stop them once more, we're down by two points!"
Hayato shifted his weight, moving forward with measured steps, pressing against Makoto as the court echoed beneath their sneakers. His breath steady but firm, eyes fixed.
Liam stretched his arm wide near the baseline, body leaning into the space, blocking Yukio from inbounding the ball.
Yukio's fingers clenched briefly around the ball, knuckles whitening, a sharp exhale slipping past his lips. Frustration pressed along his shoulders, and he shifted his stance, trying to find an opening.
Nanaho blew the whistle sharply. Her eyes flicked toward the court as she raised her hand. "Five-second violation. Team Hayato's ball."
Hayato raised his arms, chest rising and falling rapidly, sweat clinging to his shirt. "Let's go!"
Liam's eyes lit up and a bright smile spread across his face as he pressed his fists upward, muscles tensing with the motion.
Yukio's chest rose and fell rapidly, hands resting on his hips as he exhaled through his nose, a small smile tugging at his lips. They are really giving their all.
Makoto drew in a slow breath, feeling his chest expand and contract. His eyes flicked toward Nanaho. For some reason...this feels like her doing.
Noboru bounced the ball firmly against the hardwood, sending it toward Hayato along the sideline. Hayato caught it, fingers pressing into the rubber as he moved down the court. His chest rose and fell steadily, shoes scraping lightly against the floor as he reached the three-point line. Makoto shifted into position, knees bent, arms raised, eyes fixed on Hayato's movements.
Makoto's eyes narrowed, chest rising evenly. His hands hovered steadily in front of him, fingers brushing the air. He felt the subtle shift of the ball in Hayato's grip. Will he pass… or shoot a three-pointer…
His gaze swept the court, noting every movement, the spacing, the tension in the players around him.
Hayato raised his hand slightly toward Takahiro. Takahiro moved into position, pressing firmly into Makoto's path. Makoto's chest rose evenly, but his eyes widened slightly—he had been caught off guard.
Hayato bounced the ball twice, fingers pressing firmly on the leather. His shoulders stayed relaxed as he shifted to the side, feet settling. He positioned himself toward the rim, body coiled lightly, ready to release.
Makoto's chest rose and fell steadily. His hands shifted forward, fingers brushing the air as he moved to adjust. A tight tension ran through his shoulders—he had predicted the three, but his steps were too slow. His eyes followed Hayato, narrowing slightly. He would not reach him in time.
Hayato released the three-point shot. Tetsuo jumped, his hand reaching up. The ball hit his palm and thudded to the floor. His chest rose and fell steadily as he watched it drop.
Hayato's chest tightened, eyes following the ball as it thudded to the floor. What… Tetsuo blocked it? His shoulders tensed, breath catching slightly.
As the ball rolled out of bounds, Liam and Yukio collided over it, hands pressing against the hardwood. Yukio managed to nudge it toward Makoto. He caught it, fingers brushing the rubber, and noticed Shino sprinting down the court. He sent the ball forward with a quick, controlled pass.
Shino caught it, chest rising steadily, dribbled once, and pushed forward.
"Oh no… you don't." Noboru's chest rose and fell rapidly as he trailed behind Shino, muscles tensing. He closed the distance and shifted his stance, ready to guard.
Shino's feet stayed planted, chest rising unevenly. The ball bounced unevenly against the floor, slipping slightly from his grip before he caught it again. His eyes darted across the court, searching for an opening. Oh no… he got back too fast. What do I do?
His body shifted slightly, leaning forward as he hesitated, waiting for a teammate to assist.
Noboru's fingers hovered over the ball, his stance rigid, muscles coiled. "We both know you can't get past me, so just give it up and hand over the ball."
No… I can't allow him to take it. What would Tetsuo do in a situation like this? I know he would… Shino's fingers tensed around the ball, knuckles whitening. His breath came in quick bursts, heart hammering.
He spun sharply in the opposite direction, slipping past Noboru's outstretched arm.
"What the…!" Noboru's voice broke, eyes wide. Everyone on the court froze, mouths parting slightly.
That's it… show them how hard you've been working. Nanaho's eyes glittered as Shino took two fast steps. He launched into the air, left hand guiding the ball off the backboard. The ball swished cleanly through the net. Shino landed, knees bending to absorb the impact, sneakers scraping lightly against the hardwood.
Nanaho's fingers brushed the watch face, eyes narrowing at the time. Her lips pressed together before a sharp whistle cut through the air.
I did it… Shino's chest rose and fell rapidly, disbelief lingering in his movements. His lips curved into a wide smile, cheeks heating.
"I did it! I scored the final basket!" His voice trembled with excitement, body trembling slightly as he took in the court around him.
Makoto's hand shot forward for a fist bump, a small smile lifting his lips. "Nice one, Shino!"
Tetsuo's gaze held Shino's for a moment. He nodded slowly, eyes steady.
This is… awesome. Shino's mouth parted slightly, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks. I never thought that… both of them praise me at same time… His thoughts raced, heart skipping a beat.
Yukio tapped Shino's shoulder, eyes soft, a faint smile on his lips. "Nicely done, Shino."
"Yes… Captain," Shino's voice was quiet, chest tightening slightly.
Hayato pulled off his headband, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, what do you know? That game was really something. I had fun."
His shoulders relaxed, though his eyes flicked toward Makoto. Too bad we didn't win.
Liam brushed his bangs back, a small smile spreading across his face. "Me too. I haven't had this much fun in a long time." He exhaled slowly, the dampness of his sweat making his shirt cling. Though… I don't miss being this sweaty.
Takahiro scratched his beard, shoulders rising slightly, a wry twist on his lips. "They really lucked out on us, huh?"
Noboru's steps were slow, eyes still wide from Shino's play. He raised a hesitant thumb toward Shino. "Listen… I'm sorry for insulting you…" The words felt bitter on his tongue.
"You really did well today. You've improved a lot. But I won't lose to you next time. I'll train harder." His jaw tightened, gaze firm, as if steeling himself.
Shino's smile lifted gently, a calm spark in his eyes. "Right! I look forward to our next scrimmage."
A girl leaned in with a light grin, eyes sparkling. "That's right. You got completely schooled by our cute Shino."
Another girl leaned in a little, a small laugh escaping. "Serves him right. He really is such a loser."
Noboru's ears twitched, and he turned around sharply. "Enough already. If you say one more thing… I'm really coming up there."
One girl rested her hand on the rail, looking down at him. "I'm not scared of you, you know… short stack."
Noboru let out a short breath, shoulders lifting. "Again with that insult? I tell you… I'm still taller than all of you."
Yukio raised a hand a little, trying to calm him. "Alright, alright. Noboru, calm down. Let's hear what Nanaho wants to say."
Makoto let out a soft sigh, eyes narrowing slightly. Honestly… he gets fired up so easily…
Nanaho looked down at the sheet, her eyes moving slowly over the numbers before she spoke.
"Okay… I checked the score and the stats for this game.
The final score is sixty-three to fifty-nine. This is a very good result. Good job, everyone.
Also, the main scorer for Makoto's team is Tetsuo with twenty-five points. And for the other team, it is Liam with twenty points. Congratulations to both of you. Very nice play."
Nanaho lifted her head a little, looking around at everyone. "Now then… about the starting lineup. I think it is time we talk about the details."
Noboru tightened his jaw, shoulders tensing. Oh man… I'm really going to end up on the bench. This really sucks…
Nanaho lifted her eyes to the team. "I decided the four secured positions for the coming season."
She shifted her weight slightly. "First… Liam will be our starting center."
Her gaze moved to Yukio. "Second, Yukio as power forward."
She looked at Tetsuo with a small nod. "Next, Tetsuo will be shooting guard. Depending on the situation, he may also play small forward."
Nanaho turned her attention to Makoto. "And finally… our point guard will be Makoto."
Noboru's brow furrowed, eyes narrowing slightly. "What… but what about Hayato?"
Nanaho tilted her head a little, voice calm. "Well… that is what I will explain now. For both Takahiro and Hayato, it depends on the type of team we will be playing."
Nanaho exhaled softly, fingers brushing the side of her jog pants. "If we play against shooters and quick players… Hayato will start as second guard, and Tetsuo will play small forward."
She pressed her lips together for a moment. "But if we play against taller or more physical players… Takahiro will start as small forward, and Tetsuo will stay at shooting guard."
Shino raised his hand a little, shoulders tensing slightly. "Um… I'm not really following."
Nanaho pressed her fingers to her temples, shoulders stiff. "If only… I could make another practice match for you… then you would understand more."
She let out a slow sigh, hands falling to her sides. "But… if we do that, the other team will get too much information about our two new players. For now… we just train and keep it quiet."
Nanaho's shoulders relaxed slightly, a faint exhale escaping her lips. "And with that… the training session is finished. You can go home now and rest."
Hands brushing lightly against their sides, everyone moved toward the locker room, voices rising together. "Thank you for the session!"
Noboru's fingers fidgeted at his sides, shoulders tense as he stepped lightly toward the exit. I hope she forgot about me… he thought, forcing his posture to look casual.
Nanaho stepped quietly behind him, a calm smile on her lips, eyes steady. "You really think I forgot about you, Noboru? I am not some old lady, you know."
Noboru froze for a moment, shoulders tensing as he turned around slowly, eyes wide. "Please… I am really sorry for insulting you," he murmured, voice low and hesitant.
Nanaho crossed her arms, the faint rustle of her tracksuit sleeves breaking the quiet around them. Her expression stayed steady as she looked at him.
"Sorry will not be enough. That is eighty suicides and one hundred push‑ups for you. I want them finished by the end of today."
Noboru's shoulders lowered as he wiped the sweat clinging along his jawline. His breath came out uneven. "But Fukazawa, this is too much… I'm already worn out from training…"
Nanaho's lips curved into a small smile, eyes glinting faintly. "Don't worry… you will have company to pass the time. Right, Makoto?"
Makoto stiffened slightly, turning to meet her gaze, breath catching a little. "Mister 'I'm too tired, so I skipped training' will be here with you… so don't worry."
Makoto let out a slow sigh, shoulders slumping a little. Why… am I mixed in this mess… so annoying… he thought, rubbing the back of his neck.
Nanaho pointed at the two of them, her fingertip steady while a light hum slipped from her throat. "I will leave you two responsible for each other. Make sure everything is finished. If not… there will be consequences."
She turned and walked away, her steps soft against the gym floor.
Makoto's eyes flicked toward Noboru, who was glaring sharply at him. That girl… she is really something else… he thought, shoulders tensing slightly.
Noboru leaned forward a little, eyebrows drawn together. "What is it… slacker?"
Makoto stretched slightly, a slow yawn slipping past his lips, eyes half‑lidded. "So… how about we just leave here and keep it a secret from her," he murmured, voice dry and lazy.
Noboru clicked his tongue softly and rolled his shoulders back, determination settling in his eyes. "As if we'd ever get away with that. I'm seeing this through to the last sprint. You can leave if you want… but be ready to face her tomorrow."
He pushed off the floor and broke into a run, footsteps echoing through the gym.
Makoto exhaled long through his nose, shoulders lowering as he stepped onto the court. Without another word, he pushed off into the first line, his shoes snapping lightly against the floor as he began the suicides.
At the school gate, Sachiko leaned against the wall, back pressed lightly, fingers twisting the handle of her bag.
A few students waved as they passed.
"Hey, Vice Prez."
She lifted her head slightly, a small smile brushing her lips.
His training is supposed to be over by now… where is he? She let out a soft sigh, shoulders dropping a little.
The basketball team walked toward the school gate. Most of them moved slowly, shoulders heavy with fatigue, but Liam's steps were light, energy radiating in his posture.
Takahiro rubbed the back of his neck, shoulders slumping slightly as a yawn escaped. "Man… I'm tired…"
Liam rested one hand behind his head, the other gripping his gym bag, swaying slightly as he walked. "Nanaho was really tough on Noboru and Makoto… I feel sorry for them…"
Hayato leaned back slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Noboru had it coming… it's his mouth that got him in trouble."
He tapped a finger lightly against his thigh, voice quiet but amused. "And Makoto… yeah… he definitely deserves it."
Liam bent slightly, meeting Hayato's gaze, a playful grin on his lips. "You're only saying that because Makoto got the better of you today."
Hayato's eyebrows lifted, jaw tightening slightly, voice quickening a little. "Hey! That's not it at all… he didn't get the better of me. Tetsuo did…"
Liam, Takahiro, and Shino shook their heads lightly, shoulders rising and falling as soft laughter slipped from their lips.
Sachiko lifted her head briefly, eyes catching a quick glimpse of the team, then dropped her gaze again, fingers tightening slightly on her bag as they walked past the school gate.
After a few minutes, Sachiko's eyes widened slightly as she finally spotted Tetsuo stepping out of the school building, his figure moving steadily toward the gate.
Sachiko took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling slowly, and stepped forward toward him. "Oh… Tetsuo… hey."
Tetsuo's eyes met hers, face unreadable, voice quiet and low. "Takahashi… do you… need something?"
Sachiko's gaze lingered on him for a moment, fingers tightening lightly on her bag strap. "Looks like you're finished with training… Are you heading home?"
Tetsuo nodded slightly. "Yeah…"
She shifted her weight, voice soft but steady. "Then… shall we walk home together?"
Tetsuo's expression remained calm, voice quiet as he spoke, eyes forward. "Ok… but I'll stop at a convenience store on the way back to get some groceries."
He turned and started walking, steps steady and even.
Sachiko let out a soft breath, a small smile forming on her lips. She quickened her pace to catch up beside him, hair shifting lightly in the breeze. "That's okay… I'm willing to wait."
Sachiko glanced toward him, tilting her head slightly. "So… how was practice?"
Tetsuo kept his eyes forward, expression calm. "It was… okay, I guess."
She nodded lightly, voice soft. "I see…"
A quiet pause stretched between them as they walked, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Sachiko stole a brief glance at him, feeling the gentle rhythm of their walk together.
---
Later that evening, Tomoe sat by the window of the literature club, a book resting in her hands. Sunlight slanted across the room, catching dust motes drifting in the air.
The shelves along the walls were packed tightly with books of various sizes, their spines worn and faded. Several cardboard boxes sat on the floor, stacked unevenly, filled with more books, some leaning slightly, others spilling open at the edges.
Tomoe slowly removed her glasses, resting them in one hand, and let out a soft sigh, shoulders relaxing as she leaned back slightly in her chair.
Tomoe lowered her head toward the desk, her fingers curling slightly at the edge of the wood. Her voice slipped out in a faint whisper, barely carrying across the empty room. When are you coming out… big brother? This world is so lonely… this kind of existence feels pointless…
Her forehead came to rest against the cool surface of the desk, shoulders drawing inward.
A light breeze pushed through the open window. One loose paper on the table trembled, then slid off the edge, fluttering to the floor. The words Club Disbandment were written clearly across the top.