Seiji stretched his arms and glanced at Nanaho, who was standing with her clipboard. "Alright, Miss Fukazawa, what do you think we should start off with today?"
Nanaho adjusted her glasses, her voice calm but firm. "Well, I'd advise we start with a thirty-minute run around the soccer field to warm up. It'll get your legs ready for the rest of training."
Jirou groaned loudly, rolling his shoulders. "Seriously? Nobody wants to sweat like crazy right at the start. Save that for the end."
Seiji smirked and clapped his hands together. "I think it's a great idea. You heard the coach. Let's go!"
The team muttered but followed Seiji out toward the field. The crisp sound of their sneakers brushing against the asphalt echoed faintly. The air carried a faint scent of cut grass as they began jogging.
Nanaho watched the timer, calling out intervals every few minutes. Their breaths grew heavier as they kept their pace, sweat darkening their practice shirts. When the thirty minutes were up, she clicked the timer. "And… that should do it."
Hiroki bent forward slightly, stretching his back. His breathing was steady, though his face glistened with sweat. "Wow. Haven't felt this alive at the start of practice in a while."
Yukio wiped his forehead with his sleeve and grinned. "Yeah. This is exactly what we needed."
Seiji leaned back on his heels, hands on his hips. "Before diving into training, we should've been doing this sooner. Thanks, Fukazawa. My team needed a wake-up call."
Jirou dropped down onto one knee, panting. "Finally over… and I'm drenched."
A light voice called from behind. "Hey, Jirou!" A girl jogged up, holding a small towel and a water bottle. "Here, drink up."
Jirou took the bottle with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Tomoe. You're a lifesaver."
Nanaho tilted her head slightly, curious. "Who's that girl?"
Yukio smirked. "That's Tomoe Yukimura. She's a first-year, same as you. And… Jirou's girlfriend."
Hiroki crossed his arms, frowning. "Tomoe, don't you have homework or something? Quit wasting time after school taking care of this idiot."
Tomoe clutched the towel tighter but smiled softly. "But he's my boyfriend. I'm here for him every step of the way."
Yukio chuckled and pointed casually toward Hiroki. "Oh, and she's Hiroki's younger sister too."
Nanaho blinked once. "Well, that explains his attitude…" she muttered quietly.
Seiji clapped sharply, snapping everyone's focus back. "Alright, let's move it! Stop holding up the line!"
"Yes, Captain!" the team shouted in unison before jogging back into the gym.
The sound of bouncing basketballs filled the court as the players transitioned into layup drills. The squeak of rubber soles echoed under the fluorescent lights.
Takahiro passed to Yukio, who glided in and scored a clean layup. Jirou followed, feeding Hayato, who executed a flashy behind-the-back step and banked the ball softly off the glass. Seiji caught a pass from Junpei and finished with a smooth layup. Junpei, in turn, passed to another teammate who finished the drill without missing a beat.
Nanaho watched, holding her clipboard tighter. The rhythm of the ball hitting the hardwood was almost hypnotic. "They move so fast… and in sync. Not a single missed shot." Her voice was low, almost to herself.
After the layups, they shifted seamlessly into defensive slides. For thirty minutes, the court was filled with the scuff of quick lateral movements and sharp calls—"Left! Right! Switch!" Sweat dripped onto the polished floor. Their breathing grew louder, but their pace didn't slow.
Finally, they moved into free shooting, scattering around the arc. Balls thudded against the backboard and swished through the net, filling the gym with a steady rhythm.
Seiji finally called out, "Alright, five-minute break!"
The players grabbed their towels and water, leaning against the wall as they caught their breath. Seiji walked over to Nanaho. His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharp. "So far, you've been helpful with your regimen. I'm glad you chose Toshigawa. Even if it was blind luck for us."
Nanaho shook her head slightly. "No, I was the one who lucked out. You guys are… amazing."
Seiji chuckled softly. "Save the praise for after you see us in a real game. Come on, Yukio. You and I will pick teams. I'll give you first pick. Fair enough?"
Yukio pushed off the wall, smirking. "If you say so, brother. But it's gonna cost you. I choose Hiroki."
Seiji gave a quick shrug. "Expected. Then I'll go with the first-year, Hayato."
Yukio's eyes flicked toward Hayato briefly. He picked Hayato first, huh… I'll need someone to lock him down. He nodded. "Jirou. You're with me. You'll run point."
"Got it," Jirou said, wiping his sweat with his shirt.
"Then I'll take Junpei," Seiji countered.
"My next pick is Takahiro," said Yukio without hesitation.
Seiji glanced toward the bench. "Akira. You're on my team." He smirked. "Which means Marube's yours."
Yukio gave a short nod. "Fine by me."
Seiji turned back to Nanaho. "Could you ref the match?"
Nanaho straightened. "Yes, of course." She picked up the whistle, stepped to the center circle, and held the ball firmly.
Yukio and Seiji faced off. The gym fell quiet except for the sound of sneakers shifting. Nanaho blew the whistle and tossed the ball up. Both brothers jumped, but Seiji easily tipped it.
Hayato caught the ball mid-air and immediately pushed up the court. His dribble was crisp, low to the ground. Jirou met him at the three-point line, arms wide. Hayato stepped back once, then crossed the ball smoothly through his legs. The sound of the dribble echoed sharply as he exploded past Jirou.
Takahiro slid in to help, his sneakers squealing against the floor. But Hayato anticipated it, snapping a quick pass to Junpei, who cut in and scored a clean layup. The ball kissed the backboard lightly before dropping in.
Seiji jogged up and gave Hayato a high-five. "Nice one, kid."
Next possession—Jirou took control, dribbling with purpose. He passed to Hiroki, who squared off against Seiji near the wing.
Hiroki raised a brow. "I thought you'd be marking your brother."
Seiji's gaze was steady. "We both know no one else can guard you but me."
Hiroki chuckled. "True… but you shouldn't underestimate Yukio either." He swung the ball to Yukio, who caught it and faced Junpei on the wing.
Yukio jabbed once, then spun out of the defense. He drove hard toward the rim, footsteps pounding against the floor—but Seiji rotated instantly and swatted the ball mid-air. It bounced into the paint, where Jirou tipped it out to a wide-open Hiroki. Hiroki rose quickly and released a smooth three-pointer. The net snapped clean.
"Nice one, Hiroki!" Takahiro called as he backpedaled, sweat dripping down his temple.
Hiroki shot Seiji a look. "Don't take your eyes off me. You'll regret it."
Seiji smirked, sweat shining along his forehead. "Challenge accepted. I won't lose."
Hayato brought the ball up next. Jirou shadowed him tightly near half-court, his sneakers squeaking loudly with every shuffle. Out of nowhere, Seiji slid in to set a solid screen. Hayato used it, stepping around with quick footwork and pulling up at the arc. His shot was clean, the ball spinning high before dropping through the net with a crisp swish.
"Right back at you, Hiroki," Hayato called, jogging back while exhaling sharply.
Jirou wiped sweat off his brow with his wrist. "Damn, this first-year's gonna be a pain to guard."
Yukio glanced at him, voice low between breaths. "If that's the case, he's exactly what we've been missing. We'll need him for the season."
On the next possession, Takahiro slipped inside for a soft bank shot. Seiji answered immediately with a fast-break slam dunk, his palm slapping the rim with a loud echo that lingered. He landed lightly, breath sharp. Yukio responded right after with his own power dunk, sweat spraying lightly as he gripped the rim before letting go.
Hayato swung the ball to Honda on the next play, who quickly swung it to Junpei. Junpei nailed a two-pointer from the wing, exhaling through gritted teeth. The ball barely touched the rim.
Jirou rushed the other way, Takahiro firing a long pass. Jirou caught it in stride and scored an easy layup, his sneakers squeaking loudly as he stopped.
Seiji brought it up, pulled up from mid-range, and drained it. Hiroki answered with a crisp crossover on Seiji, stepping back to launch a deep three. The ball flew high and dropped cleanly into the net. The faint sound of the swish echoed in the quiet gym.
Junpei curled off an off-ball screen, receiving a pass from Hayato and finishing with a layup. Yukio, refusing to back down, drove hard but met Seiji at the rim. Seiji blocked the dunk attempt cleanly, landing with a grunt.
Hayato recovered the ball and spotted up beyond the arc. His release was quick. Swish. Hiroki came back with a mid-range jumper that splashed. Yukio, undeterred, grabbed the rebound on the next play and muscled in a layup, panting from the effort.
The gym echoed with every bounce, every sharp breath, every call. The faint breeze from the ceiling fans barely moved the heavy, humid air. Nanaho stood on the sideline, whistle ready but frozen in awe. They're split into two teams of five… but they're still so in sync. Every possession is sharp. Clean. No wasted motion. She felt her heart race. This team… they really do have what it takes to reach Inter-High.
The scrimmage continued at a blistering pace, each possession met with sharp focus and quick counters, the sound of the ball ringing through the gym like a drumbeat of determination.