Darius's eyes cracked open to find sunlight cutting through the blinds in strips, painting the room in these golden slashes that felt way too bright for how his body was feeling. He blinked a few times, trying to shake off the fog, then remembered. The Titans. Khalil. That whole battle they'd fought yesterday on the court.
His muscles ached in places he didn't even know could ache, but that familiar chime was already ringing in his head before he could even think about staying in bed.
The Hustle System didn't care about rest days.
MORNING TRAINING ROUTINE INITIATED
Core Activation: 3x30 second planks Dynamic Stretching: 10 minutes Ball Handling: 200 dribbles (alternating hands) Form Shooting: 50 reps (focus on release)
Darius groaned but swung his legs out of bed anyway. His feet hit the cold floor and he could feel every bit of yesterday's game in his calves, his lower back, his shoulders. But the system was right about one thing. You couldn't let your body get stiff after a game like that. You had to work through it.
He dropped down for the first plank and his core immediately screamed at him. Thirty seconds felt like thirty minutes, but he held it. Then the second set. Then the third.
Across the room, Malik was laid out like he'd been hit by a truck. Face buried in the pillow, one arm hanging off the bed, blanket twisted around his legs like he'd been wrestling it all night.
After finishing his stretches, Darius walked over and shook his cousin's shoulder.
"Yo, Malik. Get up, man. We got training."
Nothing. Not even a grunt.
Darius shook harder. "Malik. Come on, bro. System got us on a schedule."
This time Malik groaned, a deep, painful sound that came from somewhere in his chest. He turned his head just enough to crack one eye open.
"Nah, man," Malik mumbled, voice all rough and thick with sleep. "My whole body hurts. I'm not doing nothing today."
"You gotta move through it though. That's how you recover."
"Recover?" Malik let out this weak laugh that sounded more like a cough. "Bro, I can't even feel my legs right now. I think Khalil broke something in me yesterday."
Darius couldn't help but smile a little. "You'll be alright. Just get up and stretch it out."
"Nah." Malik pulled the blanket over his head. "I'm good right here. Tell the system I said to leave me alone."
"Man, you can't just..."
"Watch me."
Darius stood there for a second, debating whether to keep pushing, but Malik had already gone back to playing dead. Some battles you just couldn't win, especially not before breakfast.
"Aight, bet," Darius said, throwing his hands up. "Stay sore then."
He grabbed his towel and headed to the bathroom, leaving Malik to deal with his own consequences.
The shower was everything. Hot water beating down on his shoulders, loosening up the knots that had formed overnight, washing away the dried sweat and tension from yesterday's game. Darius stood under the spray longer than he needed to, just letting his mind drift, replaying moments from the Titans game. The defensive stands. The clutch shots. Khalil's face when they pulled away in the fourth.
By the time he got dressed and made it downstairs, the kitchen was already chaos.
The usual kind though. The good kind.
His mom was at the stove flipping pancakes, his dad was at the table reading something on his phone, Uncle Theo was pouring coffee, and his two little sisters, Zaya and Amari, were at the table doing everything except eating their food.
Zaya had a piece of bacon in her hand, waving it around like a wand while Amari giggled and tried to grab it.
"Zaya! Amari!" His mom's voice cut through the noise like a referee's whistle. "If I catch y'all playing with that food one more time, I'm taking both your plates."
"But Mama, I'm not playing!" Zaya protested, even though she was clearly playing.
"Mm-hm." His mom shot them both a look that said she wasn't buying it.
Darius slid into his seat and grabbed a plate, piling on pancakes, eggs, and bacon. The smell alone was enough to make his stomach wake up.
His dad glanced up from his phone, eyes landing on Darius with that quiet pride parents try to hide but never really do.
"How was the game yesterday?" he asked, voice casual but interested.
Darius swallowed a bite of pancake and shrugged. "We won. Beat the Titans pretty clean."
His dad's face broke into this small smile, the kind that reached his eyes. "That's good, son. Real good. Congratulations."
"Thanks, Pops."
Uncle Theo leaned back in his chair, coffee mug in hand. "Heard y'all had Khalil and his squad looking confused out there. That true?"
Darius grinned. "Something like that."
"That's what I like to hear."
Right then, Malik finally dragged himself downstairs, looking like he'd just survived a natural disaster. His hair was sticking up in every direction, his eyes were half closed, and he was moving like an old man with bad knees. Each step down the stairs looked like it took effort.
The whole table noticed.
"Oh look," Uncle Theo said with a smirk. "Lazarus has risen."
Zaya giggled. "Malik, why you walk like Grandma?"
"Leave me alone," Malik mumbled, dropping into his chair with a heavy sigh.
His mom turned from the stove, spatula in hand, trying not to laugh. "Boy, what is wrong with you?"
"Everything," Malik groaned. "Everything is wrong."
Darius couldn't hold back his grin. "He's sore. Didn't want to do morning training."
"Because morning training is torture," Malik shot back, reaching for the orange juice like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
His dad chuckled. "That's what happens when you go to war on the court. You pay for it the next day."
"This ain't paying for it," Malik said, wincing as he tried to sit up straight. "This is getting robbed."
The whole table laughed. Even his mom was shaking her head, trying not to smile too hard.
"Meanwhile," Zaya said, pointing at Darius with her fork, "he looks fine."
"That's because he actually trains," Uncle Theo said.
Malik shot Darius a look. "Bro, why you making me look bad?"
Darius shrugged, grinning. "I'm not doing nothing. You doing that yourself."
"I hate you."
"Love you too, cuz."
The rest of breakfast moved like that. Jokes flying, food disappearing, Malik getting roasted every few minutes while Darius just sat back and enjoyed the chaos. It felt good. Normal. Like no matter how intense things got on the court, this was always waiting for him at home.
A few days later, practice had just wrapped up at Bayview. The gym was still warm, that mix of sweat and rubber and effort hanging in the air. Most of the team was already heading to the locker room, but Darius stayed back, sitting on the sideline with a towel draped over his shoulders, catching his breath.
Daren dropped down beside him, ball resting on his lap, his red hair damp with sweat.
"Good work today," Daren said, wiping his face with his forearm.
"You too, Cap."
They sat in comfortable silence for a minute, just watching the last few guys gather their stuff. Then Daren spoke up, his voice a little more serious than usual.
"You ready for the Striders?"
Darius looked over. "The who?"
"Cascade Striders. Our next opponent in the quarters."
The name didn't ring a bell, but the way Daren said it made Darius pay attention.
"They good?" Darius asked.
Daren let out this low breath, almost like he was trying to find the right words. "They're different. Khalil and the Titans? That was tough because they had one guy who could take over. The Striders though?" He shook his head. "They don't work like that."
"What you mean?"
"They don't have a star," Daren explained, spinning the ball slowly in his hands. "No one guy you can key in on and shut down. Everyone on that team moves like they're part of the same brain. The ball doesn't stop. It just flows. Pass, cut, screen, pass again. By the time you figure out who's scoring, it's already too late."
Darius felt that sink in. "So they're like... a team team."
"Exactly." Daren nodded. "They were semifinalists last year. Lost by three points to the champs. And their whole starting five came back this season. Every single one of them could start on any team in this league. But instead of trying to be the guy, they all just play for each other."
Darius leaned back, letting the weight of that settle. A team with no weak links. No egos. Just execution.
"That's dangerous," Darius said quietly.
"Yeah." Daren's jaw tightened just a little. "It is."
They sat there for another moment, the reality of what was coming starting to press down. The Titans had been a test of power and will. But the Cascade Striders? That was going to be a test of something else. Something harder to defend. Something that required everyone to be locked in, every possession, every rotation, every second.
"We gonna be ready?" Darius asked.
Daren looked at him, and for the first time since they met, Darius saw something like doubt flicker across his captain's face. Just for a second. Then it was gone, replaced by that steady confidence Daren always carried.
"We better be," Daren said. "Because if we're not, they'll pick us apart piece by piece."
Darius nodded slowly, his mind already running through what that meant. No hero ball. No isolation plays. They'd have to match the Striders' discipline with their own. Every pass had to matter. Every cut had to be sharp. Every defensive rotation had to be instant.
This wasn't going to be a battle of stars. It was going to be a battle of systems. And Darius wasn't sure if Bayview was ready for that yet.
But they didn't have a choice. The quarterfinals were coming.