Ari was quiet. Not really in the mood to talk. Making his way across the grounds of Yoshimura high. He was heading towards the Pavilion, guidebook in hand of course. The determination that had crystallized after Elaine's dismissal burned steadily in his chest, but his legs—they were still sore from two weeks of brutal training. It reminded him with every step that determination alone wouldn't be enough.
The walk was longer than the map suggested. Yoshimura's campus spread across what felt like several city blocks, and the Pavilion was apparently situated at the far edge of the athletics complex. Past the academic buildings, past the dormitories, past a recreational center that looked like it belonged at a resort.
The rainy weather was now just a light tapping drizzle. It rained very well in Yoshimura.
By the time Ari saw the Pavilion in the distance, his thighs were burning and he was questioning every life choice that had led him here.
The building was *massive*. Not just large—architecturally imposing in a way that made Ari stop walking and just stare. It looked like something straight out of a futuristic sports movie: all sweeping curves and steel-frame glass panels, with the Yoshimura crest emblazoned above the entrance in letters that had to be three meters tall. The structure seemed to radiate an aura of athletic excellence, of championships. Grand. Grand and Awe.
Ari took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked through the front doors.
The interior was just as impressive—high ceilings, polished floors that reflected the overhead lighting. trophy cases lining the walls. And standing near the entrance, seemingly absorbed in his phone, was a guy who made Ari feel small.
Which was saying something, considering Ari was 6'6".
The guy had to be at least 6'9". Built like a professional athlete—not bulky, but substantial, with layers of visible muscle on his arms, chest, allover. He wore a white Nike top that was clean and neat, paired with deep red Nike pants that matched his hair. Yes, his hair—rough, wavy, and the exact same deep red as his pants. Whether it was natural or dyed, Ari couldn't tell and he certainly wasn't about to ask.
His skin was tan, his facial features sharp and defined. A light brown hue in eyes that hadn't looked up from his phone screen even once since Ari entered.
[HOST HAS 0 PRESENCE WHATSOEVER]
Ari recognized him immediately from his Instagram stalking: Norikai Yori, Yoshimura's center and assistant captain. One of the best high school big men in the prefecture.
And he was playing what looked like a mobile game (Trojan War) completely oblivious to Ari's existence.
[THAT IS 6'10" OF PURE ATHLETIC SUPERIORITY]
[HE COULD MOST LIKELY BENCH PRESS YOU]
[MULTIPLE TIMES]
[YOU KNOW CAUSE YOU WEIGH LIKE 10 POUNDS]
"Shut u... I know", Ari muttered under his breath. He really needed to start gaining weight. That is if he actually gets on the team
Ari looked around the entrance area, searching for some kind of registration desk or obvious place to sign up. Nothing. Just Yori and his phone and the vague sense that Ari was already out of his depth.
"Should I... ask him?" Ari whispered.
[NO]
.....
"Then...what do I do..."
.....
Ari stared at the empty air. Waiting for that golden and blue and orange translucent text to come into view.
.....
Nothing did.
...
He waited some more.
.....
Till he cursed under his breath realising the system was being intentionally difficult.
Ari's shoulders huffed
So he approached slowly, each step felt like walking toward a predator that might notice him at any moment. When he got within a few feet, he cleared his throat. "Um. Excuse me?"
Yori's thumb kept moving across his phone screen. Didn't even glance up.
"Hello? Sorry to bother you, but I need to register for the basketball team."
"Team manager." Yori's voice was deeper than Ari expected, calm but with an underlying intensity. Larger people always had deeper voices. And the sound of it made Ari almost squeal inside... turning red and self conscious of the weak thing he called a voice.
Yori still hadn't looked up from his game when he said, "Office through that door, second one on the left."
"Oh. Thank you."
"Mm." Yori's character on screen apparently did something impressive because he smiled slightly, completely invested in whatever digital battle he was fighting.
It wasn't that Yori had looked down on him, exactly. It was that Yori hadn't really *registered* him at all. Ari was just another kid trying out, mediocre, not worth the effort of eye contact or extended conversation.
Somehow that was worse than open dismissal.
Ari found the office easily enough—second door on the left, just like Yori had said. The door was open, and inside—
Ari's brain short-circuited briefly.
The team manager was a girl. Which shouldn't have been surprising—plenty of teams had female managers—but Ari hadn't expected... this.
She was tall for a girl, maybe 5'8", with an athletic build that...
Her hair was a natural dark purple, he could tell just by looking—falling in soft waves past her shoulders. Her facial features were delicate but striking, he could tell as her eyes warmed over on whatever she was working on in her laptop.
She had smooth healthy tan skin. Definitely Japanese with her eyes being narrower than normal and being a deep purple colour laid upon charming apple cheek.
The girl before him was more beautiful than Elaine, Ari thought distantly. Which he hadn't thought was possible. Or maybe that's just because Elaine was now a villain in his mind.
She looked up from her laptop as he entered, and her attention focused on him. Only him. That gaze made Ari prepare greeting evaporate from his brain.
"Hi," he managed. Or tried to. It came out more like "h-hi" with a stutter he didn't mean to include.
She smiled—warm, genuine, patient. "Hello. Are you here for tryout registration?"
"Yes. Hi. I mean, yes. Registration. For basketball." Why was he like this? "Tryouts. Tomorrow."
[I FEEL EMBARRASSED JUST BEING YOUR SYSTEM]
The words were like a painful skin peeling light as the message stood in Ari's left line of sight.
The beautiful purple head still had her natural polite smile."Good. I'm Runa Mizuhara, I'm the team manager. You are?"
"Toru Ari. First year. Late arrival because hospital. Bus accident. Not relevant. Sorry." He was definitely dying inside.
Toru Ari? What a strange name.
"No worries." She pulled out a clipboard with blank forms. "Let's get you registered. This is a player profile—just basic information. Full name, class, age, position, and..." She pointed to a line at the bottom. "Your playstyle in one sentence."
Ari took the form and pen, grateful for something to do with his hands besides let them hang awkwardly at his sides. He filled out the basics quickly:
Full Name:Toru Ari
Class: 1-C
Age:16
Height:(to be measured)
Weight:(to be measured)
Position:Wing/Forward
Playstyle: Flexible scorer with a high basketball IQ
He stared at the last line for a moment. Was that accurate? He had high IQ—72/100, the system said—but his actual scoring ability was still terrible. Was he lying on an official form?
[IT IS CALLED ASPIRATIONAL BRANDING]
[YOUR IQ IS HIGH]
[YOUR SCORING WILL CATCH UP]
He handed the form back to Runa, who read it over with that same analytical attention. Her perfectly trimmed dark purple eyebrows raised slightly at "flexible scorer" but she didn't comment. It's not that he didn't look like a whatever scorer. It's that he didn't look like a scorer at all.
"Great. Now we need measurements. Step over here, please."
She led him to a stadiometer—a proper medical-grade height measurement device—and gestured for him to step onto the platform. Ari complied, standing as straight as possible while trying not to think about how close Runa was as she leaned in to adjust the measuring bar down to his head.
She smelled like something floral and clean. Her hair brushed against his shoulder as she carefully positioned the bar on top of his head. Ari stared very intently at the wall, fighting for his life to maintain his cool, aloof, emo aesthetic.
"198 centimeters exactly," Runa announced, marking it down. "And..." She stepped back to checked the digital scale reading. "76.6 kilograms."
She stepped back, and Ari could breathe again. Barely.
"Very lean, but not malnourished," she observed, her tone was clinical but not judgmental.
Ari was dying inside. "Ma... malnourished?"
[SHE SAID NOT MALNOURISHED]
"I know what she said", That was when Ari realised he could speak directly to the system by just using his thoughts. "I really need to build muscle system".
[WELL DUH]
[BUT FOCUS ON ACTUALLY GETTING ON THE TEAM. THEN I'LL TURN YOU TO HULK]
She opened up a large book. He saw names pass by as each page was flipped quickly.
Then she handed him the thick book. It was a register made of beautiful parchment paper. It looked like a grimoire.
a long list of names, maybe fifty already written in that page "Sign here to officially register. The tryouts start at 11 AM tomorrow in the basketball wing of the pavilion," She paused almost waiting for Ari to finish signing in his name so she got his full attention, "Wear athletic clothes, there'll be water there so no need to bring any but...your choice aaaand be prepared for two to three hours of evaluation. That's...for the first day."
Ari was confused. She really was the team manager. She had so much vigor.
He handed the grimoire . There it was. Official. He was registered for the Yoshimura High School basketball team draft tryouts.
"Thank you," he said, meaning it. "For being... you know. Nice about this."
Runa smiled again, that warm expression that probably made everyone feel like they mattered. "Of course. Good luck tomorrow, Toru-kun. I'll be interested to see what you can do."
There was something in the way she said it—not dismissive like Elaine, not indifferent like Yori, but genuinely curious. Like she saw something in him that others hadn't.
Or maybe he was just desperate for validation and reading too much into her kind professional courtesy.
Either way, he left the office feeling slightly less doomed than when he'd entered.
Ari walks past what he hopes would be his future assistant captain. When Ari was long gone, Yori looked up from his phone, glancing toward the office. "You seemed interested in that kid."
Runa walked towards him leaning against a desk, looking at Ari's player profile. "Mm. He gave me the creeps."
Yori blinked. "The creeps? The tall awkward kid who could barely form sentences?"
"Exactly." She tapped the paper thoughtfully. "Not in a bad way...but it's the same feeling I got when we play one of the Ice Five"
"Thats—", Yoris eyes opened in shock. "That's a big assumption."
"You're reading too much into—"
"His eyes." Runa's voice was quiet but certain. "They're intense. Like he's analyzing everything, seeing or hearing things I can't." Runa shivered in excitement. The only thing that ever got her actually excited and not just amused was basketball. Particularly meeting those terrifying ones.
Yori shrugged, returning to his game. "If you say so. I bet two minutes into tryouts before he realizes he's out of his depth."
"Maybe." Runa smiled slightly, something excited flickering in her expression. "Or maybe not. Either way..." She looked at Ari's name on the registration list. "It'll be interesting."
"Weirdo."
"Say that again Norikai-senpai." She purred dangerously.
Yori being a man who'd never back down...ever. Much less from his junior. He stressed it slowly this time, while playing his game. "Weirdo"
"___Oh... terrible mistake." Runa used her hands staying on her tip toes just to reach his stupidly tall face and cover his eyes. "Hehe", she laughed like a rascal.
"What?__GET OFF...Runa!!" Yori's character died with the cursed UI showing restart or exist to main menu
"Runa! You distracted me on purpose!"
"No shit Yori" She laughed, ducking away as Yori lunged at her, his large frame knocking over a chair in the process. "You should be more focused! Like Toru-kun! He seems very focused!"
"I'm going to throw you"
"Oh I'm so scared"
Their bickering rolled through the empty entrance of the pavilion as Runa danced away from Yori's half-hearted attempts at revenge, both of them laughing like the rich successful friends.
Meanwhile, AriToru was lost.
Not dramatically lost—because he at least knew he was still in Yoshimura.
But directionally confused enough that he'd somehow ended up in a section of castle like buildings he didn't recognize. The guidebook map was less helpful than advertised when you weren't sure which building you were currently behind.
[NAVIGATION CHALLENGE: FAILED]
[YOU GOT LOST BETWEEN THE PAVILION AND YOUR DORM]
Ari groaned. He felt like zoro from one piece. "It's a big campus"
[IT HAS SIGNS]
[AND MAPS]
[AND YOUR PHONE HAS GPS]
Ari was about to argue as he turned a corne_
TRUSH
He hit the pavement hard, his tailbone taking most of the impact.
He didn't collide with someone. Someone collided with him.
Pain shot up his lower spine as AriToru looked up, disoriented, at the person who'd just knocked a 6'6" teenager flat on his ass.
The boy standing above him was... striking. Handsome in an aggressive way—sharp facial features, wild eyes that were an unnatural blood red, actual red eyes. He was maybe 6'4", significantly more muscular than Ari. Violent athletcisim.
He wore the school's full tracksuit—plain dark blue with two white stripes running down the sides. It looked expensive, tailored, perfect. His hair was bright brown, almost blonde, permed and cropped at the sides with falling bangs that were turned into spikes.
He looked down at Ari on the ground, hands in his pockets, expression completely neutral in the worst possible way. Not apologetic. Not concerned. Just.... literally looking down at him.
Then their eyes met—intense bestial void meeting raging blood-red—and Ari felt something electric pass between them. Not hostility exactly, but recognition. The acknowledgment of something similar, something competitive.
The boy scoffed quietly, a sound that conveyed dismissal without words, and walked away without offering a hand up or even a basic acknowledgment that he'd just knocked someone over.
Ari sat on the ground, watching him leave, his teeth grinding together. But not in anger. In excitement.
This place. These people. The competition, the challenge, the impossibility of it all—
This just keeps getting better and better.
Then he noticed the girls.
A group of them—maybe seven or eight—appeared seemingly out of freaking nowhere, following the red eyed boy like he was a celebrity and they were paparazzi. They whispered to each other, giggled then cast looks back at Ari still sitting on the ground that were equal parts pity and secondhand embarrassment.
[FANCLUB DETECTED]
[THEY THINK YOU ARE PATHETIC]
[MAYBE STAND UP?]
One girl said something to her friend about "that poor tall guy" and they both laughed. Another took a photo—actually took a photo of Ari sitting there like an idiot—
'Ughh....some many people', Ari groaned inside, 'are going to see that.'
His confidence, which had been building, deflated slightly. He stood up slowly, brushing off his pants, trying to maintain some dignity.
But then the name the girls were calling out to the boy who'd already disappeared around a corner. Most likely heading to the pavilion also.
"Nagi-kun! Wait for us!"
"Isami! That wasn't nice!"
"Did you see how he just walked away? So cool!"
Isami Nagi.
Ari committed the name to memory, filed it away next to Akihiko Heishi and all the other names of players he'd need to surpass.
His muscles chose that moment to remind him they'd endured two weeks of brutal training and desperately needed rest. His legs felt heavy. His shoulders ached. His entire body was screaming for a bed. And he had no idea which part of this massive rainy school he was in.
So first, he needed to figure out where his dorm was. Because apparently, he was navigationally challenged.
Ari looked around, spotted a girl walking alone nearby, and made a tactical decision: ask for directions from someone who looked as uncomfortable with social interaction as he did.
The girl was perfect for this. She walked with her shoulders hunched, like she was trying to take up less space. Average height, with a plump build that reminded Ari of a teddy bear—soft, approachable, somehow comforting. Her hair was auburn and cut short, which was unusual enough to be memorable. She was looking at her phone like she was using it as a shield.
"Excuse me?" Ari approached carefully, trying to seem non-threatening. "Sorry to bother you,"
'Ugh...God kill me now. Those are the two most macho cold approach lines I've ever heard'....Cringing at his own words. Though he managed to speaking.
"but could you tell me how to get to the first-year dorms? East wing?"
The girl looked up...really up, he was so tall. And dressed in all black. Pale skin. And—is that eyeliner.
Was he some sort of gloomy boy. A vampire maybe
She was startled, her eyes opened up in shock, "Oh! Um. The dorms. Yes. I know. Where they are...." She spoke in short bursts. Forming complete sentences was a challenge. "I'm. Going that way. Actually."
"Could I walk with you?" Thank god. First person I can talk to without stuttering.
"Yes! I mean. If you want. It's not. Far. Just. That way." She pointed vaguely, then started walking without checking if he was following.
Ari fell into step beside her. They walked in mutual awkward silence for about thirty seconds before Ari tried again. "I'm Ari. Toru Ari. First year."
"Sachiko. Tomomi Sachiko. Also first year. I mean. Obviously. Since I'm. Going to the first-year dorms." She said this all while staring intently at the ground.
"We might be in the same class?"
"1-C." She glanced at him briefly, then back to the ground. "Saw your name. On the roster. This morning. Not that I was. Looking specifically. I just remember words....on..a ... regular basis".
[SHE'S LIKE A NERVOUS HAMSTER]
They continued walking, the silence somehow both comfortable and excruciatingly awkward. Ari found her presence calming despite—or maybe because of—the mutual discomfort. Here was someone else who clearly didn't fit Yoshimura's polished, confident aesthetic. Someone normal. Grounded.
"Thank you," Ari said as the dorm building came into view. "For the help. I was pretty lost."
"It's okay. The campus is. Very big. I get lost too. Sometimes. Actually", Her eyes widened as if recalling a terrible memory, "A lot!"
She paused, then added quickly, "We're in the same class though. So. I'll probably see you. Tomorrow. In class. If you go. To class."
"I'll definitely be there."
"Oh. Good. That's. Good." She fidgeted with her phone, clearly wanting to say something else but not quite managing it.
Then Ari remembered the detail floating at the edge of his mind. "Wait—earlier, I bumped into someone. Brown hair, red eyes, tracksuit. The girls were following him and calling him... Nagi? Do you know who that is?"
Sachiko's eyes sparkled in recognition. Not at what he was asking. But because she knew the answer and could help. "Isami Nagi."
"Yeah. Who is he?"
She was quiet for a moment, deciding how to explain something complex. Then she said simply: "The Prince Cobra."
Silence. 'Prince Cobra.'
"The... what?"
"That's what", Sachiko's eyes dazed elsewhere towards the wall. Too nervous to even look a person in the eye.
"People call him. The Prince Cobra." But then she seemed comfortable talking about someone else rather than herself. "He's in our class. 1-C. First year like us. But. He's different."
"Different how?"
[YES SPEAK, NERVOUS HUMAN]
"He's the unstoppable rookie. That's what. The basketball people say. I don't really know much about sports. But. Everyone talks about him. Like he's already. Better than most second and third years." She paused. "He's kind of. Scary. But also. Popular. Girls like him. He seems dramatic if you ask me." She suddenly looked back down shyly, maybe mortified thinking she spoke too much. 'Tomomiiiii learn to shuut uuuup',
The Prince Cobra. Isami Nagi. First year, already legendary, Destined to make the team without trying.
"Thank you," Ari said again.
"I'll. See you tomorrow. In class." She bowed quickly, awkwardly, and then hurried away like she'd used up her social interaction quota for the day.
Ari watched her go, thinking he probably should have asked for her contact information. A friend would be nice. Someone who wasn't intimidatingly perfect or dismissive or part of some elite athletic hierarchy.
But he'd probably see her in class tomorrow. He could ask then.
[SOCIAL SKILLS: 2/100]
"Shut up." Ari grumbled as he made his way into the male building. Before reaching his dorms and fussing over how hard the door was to unlock by key.
Ari's dorm room looked even better than he remembered—or maybe he was just exhausted enough that anywhere with a bed looked like paradise. Hey he hadn't been to a boarding school prior but this still seemed very lxurious by dormitory standards: wooden floors, modern furniture, a window with an actual view. And this was all apparently normal for Yoshimura.
He dropped his bags by the door—next to his briefcase. Still unpackedhe realized distantly—and looked at his bed like it was calling to him. His phone said 5:16 PM. There were evening classes, optional ones for students who wanted extra study time, starting at 6:30 PM.
No way he'd be awake by then. The tryouts started at 11 AM tomorrow—that was what mattered. He needed rest more than he needed optional classes on his first day.
Ari calculated quickly: if he slept now until tomorrow morning at 6 AM... that was... math was hard when you were exhausted... approximately thirteen hours? Fourteen? That seemed like a lot. But also necessary given he'd spent two weeks destroying his body.
He should probably unpack. Set up his room. Organize his things like a responsible student.
Tomorrow. He'd do it tomorrow.
Ari fell onto the bed still fully clothed, his body sinking into the mattress with a spiritual relief.
The pillow smelled clean and new. The room was quiet except for the distant sounds of other students in the large gray walled building.
His last thoughts before consciousness abandoned him completely was about tomorrow. About two hundred students competing for thirty spots. About Isami Nagi, the Prince Cobra. About Elaine's dismissive pity and Runa's curious interest and Yori's complete indifference.
About proving them all wrong. About The Prince Cobra.
Then sleep claimed him like a wave, and AriToru—late-arriving scholarship student, mediocre basketball player, determined underdog—dreamed of nothing at all.