Toyonaka Horizon High 11 - Naha Southern Drakes High 17
The buzzer shrieked—but the gym didn't breathe out.
Not yet.
The air hung heavy, dense with tension, like steam pressed tight beneath a lid of glass.
Horizon shuffled back to the bench—
Not broken.
But bent.
Not beaten.
But battered.
Their jerseys clung like second skin, soaked and salty.
Sweat cooled on bare arms and burning backs.
Their lungs fought to find a rhythm, but hearts still pounded—wild, relentless—from the storm that was the first quarter.
Their legs jittered beneath them, muscles twitching from adrenaline they hadn't finished burning.
Eyes stayed wide, scanning for ghosts of plays that had already ended.
The chaos hadn't settled.
Only paused.
No one dared speak first.
Not the coach.
Not the captain.
Even the crowd held its voice hostage—
Unsure whether to cheer… or fear what came next.
…
Coach Tsugawa stood still.
He didn't reach for the clipboard.
