After receiving the ball from Hidesuke, Makoto bent his knees slightly and settled into a triple-threat position. His right foot was firmly planted, and his fingertips gently controlled the ball, his gaze calm yet alert.
"Show me what you've got, freshmen," said Hidesuke to himself with a smirk, squaring up in a low stance.
Makoto dribbled once, testing the feel of the court under his sneakers. The wooden floor responded with a low, hollow thud. He crossed the ball through his legs and dipped his body low, shifting his weight onto his lead foot. In one swift motion, he cut past Hidesuke, leaving a pocket of space between them.
Hidesuke blinked in disbelief. His feet had barely moved.
What the hell is this? He got right past me, thought Hidesuke, stunned as he turned to recover.
Makoto rose from his drive into a soft mid-range jumper. His form was clean, and the shot left his hands with a confident flick. The ball cut through the air and dropped into the hoop with a clean swish.
"Well, that was disappointing. I expected better from you, Captain," said Makoto with a straight face after yawning. His tone was dry, almost indifferent.
"You cocky little brat, that was just a fluke. Just because you made a single shot doesn't mean you'll win," said Hidesuke sharply as he tossed the ball back to Makoto with extra force.
His brows furrowed, but he tried to mask the sting of humiliation. I couldn't even react to his movements just now. He's a tricky one.
As the ball reached Makoto, he barely caught it before instantly flicking it toward Ko in a quick touch-pass. Hidesuke froze in place, caught off guard by the immediate decision. The pass was fast and crisp.
Makoto sprinted ahead, bypassing Hidesuke again, his sneakers brushing against the court with light squeaks.
"Pass the ball quickly, Yamazaki!" shouted Makoto as he extended his hands.
Ko, eyes wide, flung the ball forward. Makoto caught it in stride, took two controlled steps toward the rim, and laid it in off the backboard with ease. The ball dropped cleanly through.
"Wow, the kid is not half bad," said Basara to himself, nodding in approval from the sideline.
"He's really giving Hidesuke a hard time. That's something you don't see often," said Daichi, folding his arms as he watched the play.
"Played a little basketball, my ass. He's not your average twelve-year-old," muttered Takumi, brows raised as he stared at Makoto's footwork.
Across the court, Hidesuke's jaw tightened. His usual smug composure faded. He clenched the ball tightly and passed it to Makoto again, stepping up on defense this time with a hardened glare.
"I won't let you insult me in front of my team," said Hidesuke, his voice low, his stance coiled like a spring.
On the sidelines, Coach Izanagi leaned forward slightly. Now then, let's see how you handle pressure, rookie.
Makoto planted his pivot foot, turning his body to shield the ball as Hidesuke moved in close. Their bodies were almost touching. He dribbled low, then stepped back to create a sliver of space.
The air between them felt tight. Every movement was precise.
Makoto waited for Hidesuke to lunge, then used his momentum against him—ducking low and driving right past his hip. Hidesuke recovered quickly and managed to slide over, getting in front once more.
Makoto halted and crossed the ball through his legs again. His feet shifted sharply, changing direction, but Hidesuke was right there. Makoto spun in the opposite direction.
The quick spin was sharp, tight, and it sent Hidesuke stumbling. His foot slipped on the polished court, and his balance gave out.
He fell back, landing squarely on his butt with a dull thud.
"Whoa, an ankle breaker!!" shouted Basara, his voice echoing in the gym.
What the hell? This kid just dropped Hidesuke. That's crazy, insane even, thought Daichi, stunned.
Makoto looked up, composed, and rose into a jump shot. But Takumi had already reacted.
As Makoto reached the apex of his jump, Takumi was already in the air, extending his long arm.
Makoto didn't flinch. In mid-air, he redirected the ball and passed it to Ko on the baseline.
Ko fumbled briefly but regained control. His feet adjusted, and he scooped in a layup before Hidesuke could rotate.
"This kid, Makoto Kurai, is exactly what our team is missing," said Coach Izanagi, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.
Hidesuke stood up, jaw tight, eyes shadowed. He brushed his shorts and took slow, deliberate steps toward Makoto. His eyes were sharp, no longer playful.
Makoto didn't back away.
"Don't bother trying anything that will make you look stupid. You're the captain. Have some self-control."
Hidesuke's eyes flickered, and then Takumi stepped in.
"Let's switch markers. I want to give it a shot at guarding this kid," said Takumi, his voice steady.
"You're right, Takumi. He's all yours," said Hidesuke, pulling back with a tight nod.
Ko swallowed hard and glanced at Makoto. I can't believe this guy is the same age as me. He's way better than me at basketball. Even though I have a better build than him, I don't think I'll ever be as good as him.
On the sidelines, Shino leaned forward, bouncing slightly in place. This is so cool. So this is basketball face-to-face. Absolutely amazing. I can't wait to learn all of that.
Takumi passed the ball to Makoto. His arms were relaxed, but his eyes were sharp. Let's see what all the fuss is about with this kid.
Makoto dribbled forward, left then right, switching directions by crossing the ball through his legs. His eyes scanned Takumi's feet and torso.
Takumi moved with him—fluid, smooth, matching his rhythm. His positioning was tight.
Makoto faked a drive, then spun the ball off the floor with a bounce that kicked it backward. He slipped behind Takumi, catching the ball with his off-hand and breaking past the older player.
"Wow, that kid even got by Takumi," said Basara, voice rising in surprise.
Makoto dashed toward the hoop, accelerating with quick strides. His right foot planted just inside the paint, and he rose up for the layup, his fingers extending as he released the ball with a smooth upward flick.
But Takumi was already trailing him. His long strides closed the gap in an instant. As Makoto released the ball, Takumi launched himself upward.
Damn, I miscalculated his reach, Makoto realized as the shadow of Takumi's arm closed in.
A sharp thud echoed as Takumi's hand met the ball against the glass. The ball ricocheted off the backboard with force and dropped to the court.
"Nice one, Takumi," said Hidesuke, raising his voice as he nodded in approval.
Takumi caught the ball and brought it up the court. His hands were firm on the leather, his dribbles heavy and deliberate. Makoto Kurai truly has the potential to become a prodigy in this sport. However, currently, Takumi is at a higher level than him, thought Coach Izanagi.
Takumi attacked. He drove hard, the ball pounding against the hardwood. Makoto stepped up to defend, feet shuffling quickly.
Takumi planted his back to Makoto and began to shimmy. His torso shifted left, then right. Makoto's eyes darted, trying to read his movement, but couldn't predict it.
Then Takumi turned right and rose into a fadeaway. Makoto jumped to contest, but the height difference was clear.
The ball dropped through the hoop cleanly.
What the hell? thought Makoto, slightly breathless.
"The unpredictable fadeaway gets them every time," said Basara, shaking his head with a smirk.
Takumi received the ball again, crossed left, and Makoto adjusted. But Takumi spun with precision and passed him again, scoring another layup with fluid control.
On the next play, Takumi passed the ball to Hidesuke, who immediately drove hard into Ko's chest.
"Crap, he's strong," muttered Ko as he braced, feet sliding slightly.
Hidesuke muscled through and banked a layup off the glass.
After the check, Hidesuke set a screen for Takumi. The pick was solid, and Makoto was knocked off balance.
Takumi used the screen, accelerated toward the rim, and launched into the air. He gripped the rim and slammed the ball down hard, the sound echoing off the gym walls.
On the following plays, Hidesuke scored a layup over Makoto. Takumi sank another fadeaway over him. Hidesuke then knocked down a jumper to finish the scrimmage.
Sweat clung to everyone's jerseys. The gym was quiet except for the players' heavy breathing and the occasional squeak of sneakers shifting.
Coach Izanagi watched quietly, arms crossed. A slow smile formed on his face.
"The game ended exactly how I expected it to, but I'm impressed by this kid's potential. He is the embodiment of what a point guard should be. We will be a dangerous team this year," he murmured to himself, eyes never leaving Makoto.