The thud of a basketball echoed across the street court, bouncing off the chain-link fence that rattled faintly in the breeze. The orange glow of a nearby streetlight cast long shadows over the cracked asphalt, where two teenagers squared off.
"Come on, dude, get the shot up already!" one of them yelled, sweat dripping down his temple as he crouched low, sneakers squeaking lightly against the rough surface.
"Alright, just watch—I'll show you how trash you are!" his friend shot back with a cocky grin. He dribbled hard with his right hand, took two quick steps, and pulled up for a mid-range jumper. The ball smacked the back of the rim and swished cleanly through the net, making the chain clatter.
He landed and spun around, pointing at his friend with a wide grin. "Ha! In your face, bro. You still can't guard me!"
The air tightened around the court when a new shadow fell over the two players. A tall figure—easily 191 centimeters—stood at the edge of the circle, cream-colored hair catching the streetlight and a pair of small studs glinting in his earlobes. He planted his hands on his hips and looked down like he owned the place.
"Hey, punks—what the hell are you doing here?" His voice was low and flat, the kind that made the ball's bounce sound small.
One of the guys shrugged and spat on the asphalt. "What does it look like, Sherlock? We're playing ball."
The tall guy stepped forward, the soles of his sneakers scraping the cracked court. He tilted his chin, eyes cold. "I don't know if you guys are aware, but this is my turf. Get the hell outta here before I beat your asses." He let the last words hang, and the chain-link fence behind him rattled as if agreeing.
One of the hoopers squared his shoulders, his voice cracking with defiance. "Screw you, man! You think we're scared of you? If you wanna go, then let's go!" He clenched his fist so tight his knuckles popped.
The tall delinquent's lips curled into a smirk. "Exactly what I love to hear."
He lunged forward without hesitation, the sound of his sneakers scraping the asphalt cutting through the night air. His fist drove hard into the boy's gut with a dull thud.
"Gah—!" The hooper's breath exploded from his lungs as he crumpled, clutching his stomach and collapsing to the ground, the ball rolling away across the cracked court.
The other boy rushed in from behind, swinging wildly for the back of the tall delinquent's head.
But the stranger twisted on his heel in one smooth motion, his leg snapping up like a whip. Crack! His sneaker connected square with the boy's face, sending him sprawling flat onto the asphalt.
"Damn… this guy's tough," the first hooper groaned, struggling to push himself up on shaky arms.
"Yeah, I know… he kicked both our asses." The second boy wiped blood from his lip and glared up. "You're gonna regret this, bastard! You messed with the wrong gang—we're from Musashi High!"
The tall guy cracked his neck and stared them down with a bored expression. "Do I look like I give a damn? All I hear are empty threats."
"You son of a—!" One of the boys staggered forward, fist cocked, but froze when the delinquent stepped in close, their faces inches apart.
The two hooper's voices rose into panicked whispers as they scrambled to their feet. One jabbed a thumb toward the shadows beyond the court, eyes wide. "The boss isn't gonna like this—he's gonna beat the hell out of you! You're screwed for sure!"
The tall delinquent only smirked, hands shoved into his pockets. He tilted his head, letting the street's hum wash around him. "I'd like to see him try. Oh, and before you leave, tell him my name—Tadao Hoshiguma. Tell him to meet me here at three. I'll beat the life out of him myself." His voice was calm, almost bored, but the name landed like a thrown stone.
The two boys froze, blood and dirt streaking their faces. One of them gaped, breath coming out in a ragged laugh. "W-what?! You're Hoshiguma? As in Tadao Hoshiguma—the guy who wrecked that biker gang around here when you were fourteen?" He swallowed hard.
The two boys didn't even hesitate. "Oh, shit! Let's get the hell out of here!" One of them yelled as they bolted across the cracked asphalt, kicking up dust behind them.
Tadao watched them go, hands casually tucked into his pockets. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "Haha… run away, you guys are a bunch of pussies." He took a slow step forward, the chain-link fence rattling softly in the night breeze, before turning and walking off down the empty street.
Nearing the end of practice, Nanaho had the players sprinting up and down the court, dragging their legs through a grueling set of suicides.
"Ugh… come on, man, when's she gonna let us stop? I'm gonna die if this keeps up!" Noboru groaned, his chest heaving, sweat dripping into his eyes. He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm.
"I-I don't think I can… hold out much longer… I'm gonna pass out," Shino gasped, dropping to his knees for a moment as he clawed at the hardwood, gasping for air.
Nanaho clapped her hands sharply, her whistle cutting through the labored breathing of the team. "And that's the end of training, guys. Good work!"
The group collapsed, chests rising and falling rapidly, sweat soaking through their shirts.
"Finally… it's over," Noboru muttered, flopping onto his back, staring up at the ceiling lights. He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, letting the exhaustion wash over him.
Shino dropped onto all fours, chest heaving and sweat soaking the back of his shirt. He pressed his palms into the court, trying to steady his breathing, his hair sticking to his forehead.
"Alright, everyone, gather around!" Nanaho called, her voice sharp but energized, cutting through the sound of heavy breaths and the occasional squeak of sneakers on the hardwood. "I've got an announcement to make!"
Nanaho's eyes sparkled as she raised a hand, flashing a peace sign. "I know we've only been training for three weeks, and half of our team is practically inexperienced, but I've got great news! We've scored a practice match!"
Shino's eyes widened, and he stumbled back a step, wiping sweat from his forehead. "W-what?! B-but… it's too soon!" His voice cracked with a mix of nerves and excitement.
Noboru leaned casually against the wall, a smirk tugging at his lips. "It's fine by me. About time I got to show off my skills."
Nanaho's expression grew serious. "However… it's not just any team we're up against. It's the powerhouse—Yokonan High School."
"T-Yokonan?! Are you sure?" Takahiro stammered, eyes practically popping out of his head.
Hayato ran a hand through his sweaty hair, voice low but firm. "They were last year's runners-up and made a huge impact in the Inter-High… ranked fifth overall."
Yukio ran a hand through his damp hair, glancing at the floor for a moment. "Not only that… they've got one of the most dangerous players on their team. He won multiple scoring titles back in junior high. I'd know—because we were on the same team."
He straightened, voice tightening as he recalled the past. "We know they're strong. We had a practice match against them when my older brother was captain. We did okay at first… but in the end, we lost."
Yukio's eyes flicked to the side, jaw tense. Yeah… that day, everything went downhill for us.
Nanaho raised a finger, her gaze sweeping over the exhausted but attentive team. "There are three players we need to watch out for," she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Nanaho paced slowly in front of the team, pointing as she spoke. "First, Takeshi Kayano—he's a guard, 178 centimeters tall. A great scorer, excellent passer, and sharp decision-maker on the court. That makes him dangerous."
She paused, letting the words sink in. "Next, Kogure Kobayashi—a power forward, 193 centimeters tall. He's their main scorer and one of the best defensive players in the league."
Finally, her gaze swept across the room, lingering. "And then there's their captain, Keichiro Yamada. 201 centimeters tall, plays center… a monster on both defense and offense. That one's self-explanatory."
Shino's eyes widened, a cold sweat forming on his forehead. He swallowed hard, voice caught in his throat.
Keichiro is a monster… Hayato thought, clenching his fists. His brute strength alone was enough to get me injured last time…
Noboru smirked, fists lightly clenched at his sides. "Hm… how interesting. Looks like we've got a worthy opponent to test my strength against." His voice carried that familiar mix of cocky confidence and barely-contained excitement.
Yukio shook his head, frowning. "They'll probably only let us face their second squad… they think our team has weakened since the last time."
Shino tilted his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity. "Wait—what do you mean by 'second squad'?"
Takahiro crossed his arms, voice steady. "Every year, Yokonan has three teams, each with fifteen members. But only the first team, and sometimes the second, actually get to play in official matches." He looked around the group to make sure everyone was following.
Nanaho clapped her hands once, drawing everyone's attention. "Starting tomorrow, we'll focus on both offensive plays and defense. You've all been improving individually, but now it's time to grow as a team. I've got a few plays in mind that we'll work on."
Yukio nodded, voice calm but attentive. "That's good to know."
"Alright, everyone," Nanaho added, scanning the tired but eager faces, "clean up and don't forget to stretch." The soft squeak of sneakers on the court mixed with the shuffle of balls and the rustle of water bottles as the team began to move.
Shino shuffled his feet nervously, eyes flicking up to Tetsuo. "Um… Tetsuo?"
Tetsuo's gaze lifted slowly, his hands resting loosely at his sides, and he tilted his head slightly, meeting Shino's eyes without a flicker of emotion. "What is it?"
"C-Can I talk to you for a sec?" Shino's hands fidgeted at his sides, fingers twisting the hem of his shirt.
Tetsuo's gaze softened just slightly, though his face remained impassive. "So… what do you want to talk about?"
Shino took a small step closer, avoiding eye contact, his voice barely above a whisper.
Shino shifted from foot to foot, biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. "Um… I was just wondering if… if you could teach me how to make a layup shot. During training, I… I haven't really learned how to score at all. So far, it's just been dribbling and passing drills. The practice match is only a week away, and I want to… at least be able to score some points for us. S-So… would you… please show me?"
He fidgeted with his fingers, eyes flicking up briefly to Tetsuo before darting back down.
Without a word, Tetsuo picked up the basketball, rolling it between his hands before starting to dribble. The rhythmic thump, thump echoed lightly across the court. He took two precise steps toward the hoop, his movements smooth and controlled, and gently laid the ball off the backboard. It swished cleanly through the nylon net with a satisfying swish.
He stepped back, arms relaxed at his sides, expression unreadable, as if nothing about the shot had required effort at all.
"Were you paying attention?"
"Yes, I was," Shino replied, nodding quickly.
"Good. A layup is one of the simplest shots and has a high scoring rate. To score consistently, you need to hit the right spots on the backboard. Before we focus on the full movement, you'll practice finding those spots first."
"I see," Shino murmured, picking up a basketball. He shifted his weight nervously, standing to the left of the rim.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered under his breath. He took a tentative step forward and tried a layup, but the ball slammed against the backboard with a harsh thunk and bounced off.
He quickly adjusted, wiped his palms on his shorts, and tried again—but the ball sailed wide, missing the hoop entirely. He groaned softly, his shoulders slumping.
"Why are you even teaching that amateur? He's never gonna learn. You're just wasting your time," Noboru scoffed, arms crossed and a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Shut up!" Nanaho snapped, stepping forward and smacking him sharply on the shoulder.
"Ouch! Hey, that hurts!" Noboru jumped back, rubbing the spot.
"Serves you right, you little punk," Hayato chuckled, leaning against the wall with an amused grin.
Shino's shoulders slumped, and he pressed his forehead into his hands. Noboru might be right… I'm just a waste of time, he thought, voice barely a whisper.
"Focus." Tetsuo's voice cut through Shino's doubts, sharp and steady. He pointed toward the small rectangular shape above the rim. "Aim for that."
Shino took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling as he steadied himself. He dribbled once, twice, then stepped forward, knees bending slightly. With a small leap, he launched into the air, flicking his wrist at the peak of his jump.
The ball arced smoothly, hitting just the right spot on the backboard with a soft tap, and then dropped cleanly through the net with a satisfying swish.
"I did it! I actually made it!" Shino shouted, eyes wide and chest heaving with exhilaration.
"Try making more before we head out for the day," Tetsuo said, expression calm, hands relaxed at his sides.
"Yes! I'll master them before you know it," Shino replied, confidence sparking in his voice as he readied another shot. He dribbled, leaped, and sent the ball through the net again, the nylon swish ringing clearly across the court.
Yukio leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching Shino's repeated layups. It's been only three weeks since he started learning… he thought, eyebrows slightly raised in surprise. Can't believe I doubted that kid.
He let out a quiet breath, eyes narrowing in focus. He's got heart. That alone will help him improve fast. If we keep this up… I really think we can make it to the Inter-High.
The rhythmic thump of the basketball on the court echoed in the background, mixing with Shino's excited shouts as he continued practicing.
"I'm home," Tetsuo said quietly, sliding off his shoes by the door and stepping inside.
"Welcome home, big brother! You're just in time for dinner—it's almost ready!" Usagi called cheerfully from the kitchen, her apron slightly askew as she stirred a pot of curry.
Tetsuo gave a small nod, voice calm and measured. "Oh… thanks."
He moved toward the table, the soft clink of his footsteps on the floor echoing lightly through the quiet apartment.
"It's the least I can do since you cover all the expenses here. Go ahead and sit down," Usagi said, pushing a plate toward him with a warm smile.
"Thanks for the meal," Tetsuo replied calmly, picking up his chopsticks and starting to eat. The soft clink of utensils against the plate echoed lightly in the quiet apartment.
"So… how was training?" Usagi asked, leaning forward slightly, eyes bright with curiosity.
"It actually went well today," he said evenly, chewing slowly.
"I see… do you feel any difference?"
Tetsuo paused, glancing down at his plate before answering. "I honestly don't know. But… I can't deny that I feel something when I'm playing basketball. It's hard to explain."
Usagi tilted her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "That means you're making progress, big brother. Don't let go of that feeling."
"I won't," he said quietly, just as his phone buzzed on the table.
He glanced at Usagi, who tilted her head and gave a small nod.
"Go ahead and answer," she murmured, pushing the plate slightly toward him.
Tetsuo lifted the phone to his ear, fingers brushing the edge of the table. "Hello?"
"Hey, long time no see," came a calm, friendly voice.
"Who is this?" His tone stayed even, and his eyes flicked briefly to Usagi.
"You've already forgotten? I'm Haruko Takahashi—the girl you met at the court the other day," she replied politely.
"Oh…You're that girl." He tilted his head slightly, gaze steady.
"Yes! I was wondering if you could come by the court tonight. I need help with something. But if it's inconvenient, I understand." Her words were careful, polite, with just a hint of hopefulness.
"I'll be there after I finish eating and cleaning up."
"Okay, thank you! I'll be waiting." Haruko's voice held a soft smile before the line went silent.
Tetsuo placed the phone on the table and met Usagi's gaze. She leaned on one elbow, teasing smirk on her face, eyebrows raised as if daring him to explain.
"Was that a girl?" Usagi tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she leaned forward.
Tetsuo stayed silent, gaze fixed on his plate. Usagi smirked and leaned in closer.
"I didn't know you had any girls' numbers besides mine. And meeting this late at night… what exactly are you two up to?"
Tetsuo let out a quiet sigh, setting his chopsticks down. "Don't worry. She just asked for some tips to improve her basketball game. Nothing unusual."
"So she's a basketball player like you?"
"Yeah," he replied, eyes calm and expression neutral.
Usagi crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "Are you sure you're not in a relationship with her?"
"Why would we be?" he said, taking the last bite of his meal. "There's no reason to be."
Usagi giggled, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. "That so didn't answer my question."
Tetsuo exhaled softly and pushed his chair back. "I'm heading out now. Lock up while I'm gone."
"Sure, sure. Stay safe, big bro. And don't stay out too late, okay?" Usagi waved him off, her
tone playful.
"Yeah, yeah. I will."
As Tetsuo stepped toward the door, Usagi shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. First he says there's no reason to be in a relationship… let's see how long that lasts…