"Good morning."
"Good morning. Did you finish the homework the teacher gave us?" asked a girl as she slipped into her seat, sliding her bag down beside her desk.
"What?!! Did we get homework?!" shouted a boy, his voice jumping with disbelief as he leaned over his desk, wide-eyed.
"Jeez, are you trying to make me deaf?" asked the girl, flinching and covering one ear.
"The match yesterday was really something. I can't wait to tell Tetsuo about it," said Haruko with a smile as she stood by the door, a drawstring bag slung over her shoulder. The morning sunlight brushed against her back, warming the white trim of her gym jacket. "But that'll have to wait because I have to return these jerseys I washed to the first years. Apparently, they didn't want to bring them home in their bags, saying they were too sweaty. So I took them home and washed all six of them."
Her steps were light but steady as she moved into the corridor, the faint scent of detergent still clinging to the mesh fabric of the jerseys in her bag.
Kazue was opposed to the idea and even tried using intimidation to get them to take their own jerseys home. However, as captain, it's my duty to ensure that all of them feel comfortable with basketball. I'm currently going from class to class to return them to their owners," Haruko thought to herself as she rounded a corner and entered another wing of the school building.
Meanwhile, in another classroom, Usagi sat at her desk, her elbows resting on the wooden surface. She fiddled with the edge of her pencil case, pressing her fingers into the fabric repeatedly.
"I wonder what I should get Tetsuo for our anniversary. It's so hard to choose something because I don't know exactly what he likes. He never shares these things with me. I don't know what I'm going to do," Usagi thought to herself, frustration knotting her brows.
"You look stressed, Usagi. What's wrong?" asked a girl in Usagi's class, noticing the furrowed tension in her friend's shoulders.
"It's nothing, really. I was just thinking about a gift I should get for my brother. Today is the second anniversary of when my older brother and I moved here, so I want to buy something for him to show my appreciation for taking care of me over these past few years," replied Usagi.
"That's so sweet. What's your older brother's name, by the way?" asked her classmate, placing her chin on her hand.
"His name is Tetsuo Kawaguchi, and he attends Toshigawa Academy."
"Wait, did that girl just call Tetsuo by his full name?" Haruko thought to herself as she stood just outside the classroom door. Her hands froze over the jersey bag.
"Hey there, did you just say Tetsuo Kawaguchi?" asked Haruko, stepping into the room and keeping her tone casual despite the sudden jolt in her chest.
"Yes, I did, but why do you ask?" asked Usagi curiously.
"No particular reason. We played basketball together, so when I heard his name, I was just curious," said Haruko as she blushed lightly, lowering her gaze and rubbing her palm against her skirt.
"Wait, you're the girl he goes out with in the mornings to play basketball, right?"
"Wait, how do you know that unless…?"
"My name is Usagi Kawaguchi, his little sister."
"Ohh, that explains it. My name is Haruko Takahashi, a third-year. That makes me your senior."
"You and Tetsuo are friends, right? Can you think of anything he likes? Today marks two years since we moved here, and I want to buy something special for him to show my appreciation," said Usagi.
"There's nothing I can think of at the moment, but if I had to guess, I'd say it would have something to do with basketball," said Haruko.
"Ohh, wait, why didn't I think of that?" Haruko thought to herself. She leaned back slightly, brushing her bangs aside.
"I can show you a place that sells all kinds of basketball gear and supplies after school if that's alright with you," said Haruko.
"Yeah, thank you. That would be great," said Usagi with a nod.
"Great. Let's exchange numbers so I can contact you," said Haruko as she took out her phone, unlocking it with a few taps.
"Alright, awesome. See you later."
"Yes, see you later, Haruko," said Usagi.
"I don't know why, but I feel as though I've met that girl before, long ago. Her face looks so familiar," Usagi thought to herself, tilting her head in thought.
As class ended for the day at Toshigawa Academy, the sharp squeak of basketball shoes echoed from the gym. The rubber soles scuffed the polished floor in rhythm with the bounce of the ball.
Hayato dribbled the basketball low, his knees bent and shoulders squared as he maneuvered past a cone positioned like a defender. Takahiro, standing firm, set a solid screen on the left side of the key. The dull thud of contact echoed as Tetsuo used the screen to cut inside, his feet pounding with precise speed.
Meanwhile, Liam pushed off the baseline, his sneakers squealing slightly as he set another screen for Tetsuo. Yukio darted through the key at the same time, their paths crossing in coordinated rhythm.
Tetsuo curved around the arc, reaching the three-point line just as Hayato flicked the ball to him. He caught it cleanly, adjusted his stance, and fired the shot. The ball arced high, cutting through the air before it dropped cleanly through the net.
"Alright, great work, everyone. Run that play again, but this time, Liam will be the one scoring!" shouted Nanaho, clipboard in hand.
Sweat glistened on Liam's arms as he repositioned, nodding. This time, Yukio set a solid pick on Tetsuo's defender, letting him cut through again. Liam slipped behind Hayato, who drove into the lane and dished a bounce pass. Liam leapt, his arms extending above the rim. The gym briefly filled with the sound of a net snapping and backboard vibrating from his dunk.
"Great work. Run that play once more, this time with Yukio scoring," instructed Nanaho, shifting her stance and watching attentively.
On the other end of the court, Shino ran drills alone. The ball rhythmically thudded against the hardwood as he dribbled in place. "Training has been running really smoothly lately. I can't wait for our first match. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it," thought Shino.
He exhaled sharply and drove to the rim. "This one will make a hundred made layups with my left hand," he said as he adjusted his angle and banked it cleanly into the hoop.
He paused at the baseline, sweat dripping from his chin. "I'm finally finished. Now I have to do two hundred and fifty dribbles with my left hand and five hundred with my right," said Shino, stepping back into position and beginning the next round of ball-handling.
Outside on the track, Noboru sprinted in long strides with the girls' middle-distance team. His breath was steady but strained, the dry air pulling slightly at his throat with each inhale.
"Ever since that foreigner, Liam, joined the team, I haven't been able to practice with them at all. That can only mean I'm not one of the starting members. This sucks," said Noboru, frustrated. He pushed harder, his arms pumping in time with his footfalls.
"Wow, Noboru has really adjusted to training with the girls who run the eight-hundred-meter race. He really is something, isn't he?" said a female sprinter as she watched him round the bend.
"Yeah, he's really committed to his training," replied another.
"If anything, he's just thick-headed and stubborn. And why did he have to kiss me on my forehead the other day? That really caught me off guard. Wait, what am I thinking?!" thought Naomi to herself, her cheeks heating up slightly.
"I heard that Liam quit the track team," gossiped a track girl, stretching at the edge of the field.
"For real? That's so shocking. He was more dedicated to his training than anyone else."
"Yes, and now he's playing on the basketball team," another girl informed.
"Well, I believe basketball suits him. He's tall and vertically athletic. He'd be more impactful playing basketball than running," said Naomi with a calm tone.
"That's true. I hope he does great in that sport," said another girl.
Elsewhere, in a darkening classroom, Makoto stirred from his desk. The late afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. A breeze stirred the papers on the windowsill.
Makoto yawned, stretching as he rubbed his eyes. "Wow, am I still at school? I didn't even realize I was here. But that sleep was good, though," he muttered, standing up slowly and collecting his things.
As he approached the hallway, he nearly bumped into Hayami-sensei.
"Oh, Makoto. What are you still doing at school? Perfect timing. Hand these papers to the president of the literature club for me, please. Then you can go wherever you want," said Hayami-sensei, not even stopping her stride.
"Really? Why choose me of all people?" asked Makoto.
"Just shut up and do what I say," said Hayami, shooting a cold glare over her shoulder before walking off.
"This is such a pain. That teacher is really getting on my nerves," said Makoto, grumbling under his breath as he took the folder.
"Here you go. Hayami-sensei told me to drop these off." He placed the papers on the literature club desk.
No response.
"That's disrespectful. Well, not that I care anyway," Makoto thought to himself as he left.
"I have to grab my bag and get the hell out of here before she comes back," he said, quickening his pace down the empty hallway.
Just as he rounded the corner, he nearly collided with a girl entering the room.
"Wait, you're Makoto Kurai, right?" asked Sachiko, adjusting the strap on her bag.
"Yes, I am."
"Good. I need a favor. I was on cleaning duty today, but I have a student council meeting I need to attend. Could you fill in for me, please? I'll take over for you when it's your turn."
Sigh. "Yes, it's not like I have anything better to do."
"Thanks, I really appreciate it. Also, be sure to empty that bin," said Sachiko as she walked off briskly.
"This is such a pain. Next time, I'll be sure to stay awake during my last session," Makoto thought to himself as he swept and emptied the trash bin, the plastic liner rustling faintly.
""That's the last of it. Alright, time to go home," Makoto said, stepping through the front gate of the school.
The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the pavement. As he turned the corner just outside the gate, his shoulder knocked into someone.
He staggered back slightly.
"Watch where you're going, punk."
The voice froze him in place.
Makoto looked up. A tall figure stood in front of him, arms crossed, face half-lit by the fading light. Two others flanked him a few steps behind, their eyes locked on Makoto.
"Well, well, well… Look who we have here. I never thought I'd see your sorry face again, Makoto Kurai," said the first one, smirking.
Makoto's stomach dropped. His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag.
Daichi. Hidesuke. Basara.
His breath caught for a second, heart thudding harder now. The sounds around him—cars passing, birds overhead—faded into the background.
These guys are my teammates from junior high school.
He stood still, eyes sharp but guarded, his body tensing without meaning to.