The bully spun the ball in his palm, standing just beyond the top of the key on the worn half-court. His sneakers scraped against the rough pavement as he lowered his stance, ready to blow past Makoto. The rim behind him rattled faintly in the wind, as if waiting for the outcome.
"Let's see you keep up with this," the bully snarled, launching into a hard dribble to his right.
Makoto didn't move. His eyes followed, calm and indifferent.
The bully crossed over, snapping the ball to his left. He leaned into the motion, convinced he'd created space.
In a blink, Makoto's hand shot out, effortlessly stripping the ball away. It wasn't even close. His palm smacked the leather clean, snatching it as if the bully had offered it to him on a silver platter.
"What the hell?!" the bully stumbled forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. He whipped his head around, glaring. "Tch! The hell was that!?"
Makoto turned his back on him without a word and flicked a quick pass to the boy from their school standing wide open near the left elbow. The boy, hands shaky but determined, caught the ball and took a breath before banking the shot in off the backboard.
The ball whispered through the net, the soft swish ringing in the quiet.
"Nice shot," Makoto said, his voice flat but not unkind as they reset for the next possession.
On the check-in, the bully pressed up hard against Makoto, breathing through gritted teeth, his body tense with frustration.
Makoto dribbled slowly near the top of the key, cool and unfazed.
"Here, pass me the ball!" Tadao called from the left wing, his hand raised impatiently.
Makoto glanced over, bored. "Nah."
"Damn it, you bastard!" Tadao's jaw clenched as he stomped his foot.
On the right side, their upperclassmen slipped in and set a solid screen near the three-point arc, his stance firm.
"Go!" he barked, giving Shino a strong push to help him spring free.
Shino's defender hesitated just long enough. Shino darted around the screen, finding himself wide open on the right side. Makoto's sharp eyes caught the opening instantly and zipped a pass to Shino's chest.
Shino caught it mid-stride and laid the ball gently off the backboard. The group ball swishes through the net.
"N-Nice one, kid," their upperclassmen called, flashing a thumbs-up.
Shino flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I—I didn't do much. It was all thanks to your quick thinking."
"Don't sell yourself short. You made the cut at the right time," the guy chuckled.
The bully leader growled, rallying his friends. "Lock in! Lock in! These punks ain't shit!"
Makoto calmly checked the ball in and dribbled near the top, but this time, the bully smothered him, shoving him aside with a hard shoulder. Makoto stumbled, the ball slipping from his grip.
The bully snatched it and barreled to the rim. His steps pounded the concrete as he drove straight in for what he thought would be an easy layup.
But Tadao was already there.
Just as the bully flicked the ball up, Tadao sprang off the ground and smashed the shot into the pavement, the echoing slap ricocheting off the walls of the nearby school building.
"God dammit! This guy's too tall!" the bully barked, backing up.
Tadao caught the loose ball and walked it out beyond the three-point line.
"Who told you this was gonna be easy?" Tadao smirked.
One of the bullies jogged over, waving his arms. "You're not good at basketball—you're just a punk! You know it!"
Tadao's grin widened. "Oh yeah? Let's see."
He jab-stepped right, the defender shuffled with him, and then Tadao exploded toward the baseline. Just as the defender recovered, Tadao spun on his inside foot, sliced back across the paint, and launched himself into the air.
With a thunderous slam, the ball tore through the hoop. The rim shook violently as the ball bounced high and skidded across the pavement.
Everyone froze.
"Whoa! Amazing! He just dunked the ball!" a junior high kid cried, eyes wide.
"So cool!!" another shouted, jumping in excitement.
The next possession, Makoto passed to Noboru, who cut sharply across the key and scored an uncontested layup.
As they reset, their senior casually brushed by a defender and set another screen for Shino, who again curled around and received a perfect bounce pass from Makoto. Shino finished the layup with surprising confidence.
Tadao got the ball next, faced up at the free-throw line, and bulldozed straight through a smaller defender. The thug braced for contact but couldn't hold his ground. Tadao rose up and dunked again, his two-handed slam rattling the rim as gasps filled the court.
On the following possession, their senior faked left, stepped through his defender, and sank a soft jump shot near the edge of the paint.
"Shit… We're getting destroyed out here…" the bully leader's breathing turned ragged. "I gotta do something…"
He squared up Makoto as he checked the ball back in. "What's the matter, huh? You afraid to shoot? Or are you so trash you can only pass?"
Makoto yawned, dribbling the ball between his legs without a care. " quit running off your mouth, you talk too much."
Suddenly, he surged forward with a burst of speed, driving toward the hoop. The bully scrambled to stay with him.
Midway, Makoto planted his foot hard, dragging the ball back behind his body—a clean snatchback.
The bully's feet betrayed him. His balance gave out, and he toppled backward, landing flat on his butt.
Makoto stepped back behind the arc and lofted a midrange jumper that swished clean through.
The sound echoed over the stunned silence.
Makoto brushed his bangs aside and stared down at the bully. "Now you know where we stand. I don't need to brag. But the idea that you thought you could beat me in a 1v1? That's real funny."
"Damn you, bastard!" the bully hissed, slamming his fist on the ground.
Noboru, laughing as he cut backdoor on the next possession, caught another slick pass from Makoto and finished another layup with a grin. "Damn, you guys are so bad. During training, I can't even see the rim most of the time."
Their senior followed up with a clean floater, arching the ball high over an outstretched hand and dropping it perfectly through the net.
"Shit… It's already 20-0… Who the hell are these guys?" the bully leader whispered, his confidence shredded.
Tadao planted himself deep in the low post, his voice booming across the court. "Pass me the ball, Kurai!"
Makoto glanced at him, unfazed, then turned away as if he hadn't heard.
"Damn that son of a—"
Makoto suddenly drove to the right, forcing his defender to bite, then whipped a slick behind-the-back pass to Tadao without looking.
Everyone—including Tadao—froze for a split second.
Tadao caught it, his eyes lighting up. "Finally coming around, huh, punk?"
With a firm dribble, he spun baseline, shrugged off his defender, and slammed down a two-handed dunk that shook the backboard.
The ball thudded to the ground as Tadao turned and walked off.
"And that's game," he said, his grin cocky. "Now get your asses outta here."
"Tch! Let's go, boys!" the bully leader barked, trying to mask his humiliation as he led his crew off the court.
The junior high kids sprinted over, their faces beaming. "Thank you so much! Your dunk was so cool!" one boy cheered.
Tadao tossed the ball to him. "Here. You don't need to worry about those punks anymore."
The boy hugged the ball tightly. "Thank you!"
Tadao gently patted the boy's head. "In two years, you'll have the chance to play with us at Toshigawa Academy. We'll be waiting."
The kids' faces lit up as they shouted in unison, "Count on it!"
Makoto, watching from a distance, yawned and mumbled, "What do you know? Guess this punk's got a good side to him after all."
Turning toward the guy from Toshigawa, Noboru stepped forward. "Hey, thanks for stepping in earlier. You've got some solid court sense. What's your name?"
The guy rubbed the back of his neck. "Jirou Suzuki. I'm a third-year at Toshigawa."
"You're not half bad. You should join our team," Noboru said with a grin.
Shino chimed in, his eyes still sparkling from the game. "Yeah, you really know when to set the right screens. Your timing's sharp."
Jirou scratched his chin, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face. "I appreciate that, but… joining the team might be complicated."
"Why's that?" Noboru asked, crossing his arms.
"It's a long story," Jirou replied, his gaze drifting toward the fading sunset. "Let's just say, some people on the basketball team wouldn't exactly want to see me. things in my year haven't gone so smoothly. But you guys—you're fun to play with. Maybe I'll think about it."
"Well, hurry up and decide," Tadao smirked, breaking the tension. "With you on the team, we'd have a full ten—perfect for five-on-five."
Jirou laughed softly. "No promises but I'll think about it."