The sprawling grounds of Yokonan High loomed ahead like a fortress of athletic excellence.
Noboru's voice cut through the morning air, brimming with excitement. "Yokonan is huge!"
Haruko's eyes sparkled as she gazed toward the massive track and soccer field laid out beyond the school buildings. "Whoa, look at the size of their track and soccer field. It's massive!"
Takahiro nodded with a knowing smile. "Yes, Yokonan is well known as a sports school, so this was expected."
The sun shone brightly, casting long shadows over the neatly manicured grass, while a gentle breeze carried the faint scent of freshly cut turf and the subtle chlorine from the pool nearby.
Shino's gaze drifted toward the indoor pool, where swimmers sliced through the water with effortless grace.
"They even have a pool… it's huge!" Shino's voice wavered, a mix of awe and apprehension threading every word as his eyes darted across the sparkling water.
Yukio glanced toward the pool, his expression calm yet proud. "Yokonan has a girls' swimming team. In fact, they haven't lost a single championship for eight years straight now."
Noboru's eyes glinted with playful mischief as he muttered, "These girls are amazing. I wonder if I can get a couple of numbers."
As if on cue, a girl clad in a sleek navy school swimsuit launched herself into the water with perfect form.
The splash was sharp but controlled, water droplets sparkling in the sunlight as she glided across the pool's surface. She touched the far end and shot back just as swiftly, her stroke smooth and powerful.
"That's a new record!" a voice rang out from the swim team gathered at the poolside.
"She's the fastest swimmer I know. You're so cool!" another girl gushed, clapping with admiration.
Nearby, a boy approached the group from the school's side, adjusting his glasses with a composed air. "Um, Toshigawa Academy, right?" he asked politely.
Nanaho, one of the team's representatives, nodded. "Yes."
"My name is Manabu. I was sent here to escort you guys. Please, come this way."
His voice was steady, dark hair neatly combed, glasses glinting as he adjusted them while leading Toshigawa's basketball team through the corridors.
As they walked, Aoi, a girl from the swim team, glanced over at Toshigawa's lineup and found her eyes lingering on Tetsuo.
She furrowed her brow, whispering to herself, "Where have I seen that face before?"
Manabu gestured toward the locker rooms. "You guys can change in here. Oh, and the court is to the left down this hallway."
Yukio offered a polite nod. "Thank you for the help."
The group settled near the hallway as Nanaho reached into the large bag Takahiro had been carrying and began pulling out jerseys.
"Alright, let's see… time for the best part. What numbers do you want?" She grinned, holding up a sleek black-and-green jersey.
Noboru's hand shot out immediately as he claimed, "Dibs on number ten!"
Nanaho shook her head, exasperated. "Why do you always have to act like a hooligan? I was going to pass it to you… jeez."
Yukio's hand lingered over the number four jersey for a heartbeat, then he pulled back, brushing his fingers over number seven instead.
A small, almost imperceptible pause passed before he said, "A seven for me," his voice calm as ever, though something lingered in his expression.
Hayato raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Really? I thought you were going for the traditional captain's number. I'll take the four, then." He ran a finger along the fabric of the jersey, testing its weight.
Takahiro grinned, holding up his choice with a flourish. "An eight for me."
Shino fidgeted slightly, tugging at the hem of his shirt before settling on a jersey. "I… don't know much about what numbers mean in this sport, so I'll take this six."
Tetsuo's gaze remained steady, his movements calm as he lifted the jersey. "An eleven would be just fine."
Nanaho clapped her hands, the sharp sound echoing lightly off the locker room walls. "Alright, everyone, go get ready and put on those jerseys."
A chorus of "Yes!" rang out, bouncing off the lockers.
She glanced at Haruko, a faint smile softening her usually serious expression. "You can come with me until then, okay?"
Haruko nodded quickly. "Right, Fukazawa-senpai."
As Nanaho turned to leave, her eyes flicked briefly to Yukio.
Is the reason he didn't pick number four… what happened to the team last year? she wondered silently, closing the door behind her.
As they walked down the hallway toward the court, Noboru's eyes lingered on the black-and-green jerseys. He ran a hand over the smooth fabric, feeling the texture beneath his fingers. "Not gonna lie, I'm kind of digging this black-and-green combination. Very fitting."
Takahiro chuckled, the sound echoing slightly off the walls. "You can say that again."
The small team filed onto the polished wooden court.
The distinctive squeak of sneakers filled the air, mingling with the murmur of the gathering crowd on the bleachers. The energy was thick and palpable, a mixture of anticipation and latent hostility.
Suddenly, a voice from the stands rang out loud and clear. "Here they come—Toshigawa Academy!"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, punctuated by chuckles and scoffs.
"They'll definitely not win this game," a girl whispered.
"They're just warm-ups for us, so this will be a pretty one-sided game," a teacher on the sidelines muttered dismissively.
Shino's heart pounded as he took in the sea of faces, the cacophony of cheers and jeers overwhelming his senses. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.
This is nothing like our quiet gym back at school. No familiar bouncing ball echoing against bare walls. No calm rhythm of teammates' footsteps. Just noise. So much noise.
He felt small and fragile beneath the roar, the weight of so many eyes pressing down on him.
"Th...There sure is a lot of people" he said nervously.
Noboru grinned smugly, shoulders slightly puffed as he scanned the stands. "Isn't it obvious, you amateur? They came here to watch me."
Hayato adjusted his headband with a sharp tug, smirking at the crowd. "More like they came for a laugh. Don't worry—I'll silence them for sure."
Yukio stepped forward, voice calm and steady like a rock amid the storm. "Just stay calm. In a situation like this, we are at a great disadvantage. I know it may be overwhelming, but we came here to win, so bear with it."
The crowd's attention shifted, murmurs rippling as a few girls whispered excitedly.
"Wow, number seven looks so mature and handsome," one gushed, leaning forward on the bleacher edge.
"Aw, number six is such a cutie! Too bad he's going to lose," another teased, twirling a strand of hair nervously.
A third blushed, glancing away before adding, "I don't know why, but I feel more drawn to number eleven… he's just absolutely gorgeous."
Nanaho's eyes swept across the court, sharp and focused, taking in every movement with calculated precision.
"Coach Arimoto, they're here," Manabu said, adjusting his glasses and shifting his weight slightly.
Coach Arimoto, tall and stern, barely glanced at the new arrivals. His cold gaze swept over the players, assessing them in a heartbeat. He showed no concern—clearly, he considered them no threat. "Which school, exactly?"
"Toshigawa Academy," Manabu replied evenly.
"Oh, let them play against our B team," the coach said dismissively.
"But Coach, both our C and B teams are out doing stamina training with the captain," Manabu explained.
"Oh… well, I guess it can't be helped then," Coach Arimoto murmured, shoulders relaxing slightly. "Have them play some of our bench players and a few starters from the A team. They picked the wrong school to play."
Nanaho turned to Haruko. "You can sit here on the bench."
Haruko nodded gratefully and lowered herself onto the hard wooden bench, feeling the smooth, slightly cool surface beneath her hands as her eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.
Nanaho pulled out her game plan board and sat down, eyes sharp and focused. Her fingers traced the lines and notes she had meticulously prepared.
"Alright, everyone, go get warmed up!" Nanaho's voice rang out, firm and commanding, echoing slightly off the gym walls.
Yukio clapped his hands together sharply. "You heard her—move it! Let's go stretch our legs!"
The team exploded into motion, their sneakers squeaking sharply against the polished wood floor as they sprinted up and down their half of the court twenty times.
The rush of air in their lungs and the pounding of their feet against the floor sent a wave of adrenaline through their veins. Beads of sweat began to gather on their brows, mingling with the salty taste of anticipation.
After their sprints, they gathered near the sideline, breathing heavily but energized.
Takahiro took the lead in the stretching routine, starting with basic arm rotations. His movements were fluid and practiced, gradually increasing the range of motion in his shoulders, triceps, and wrists. The others followed, matching his rhythm.
"Don't forget to stretch your legs properly. We'll need them at full capacity," Takahiro reminded, bending down to touch his toes before sliding into a deep lunge.
The team mimicked his movements, carefully loosening their hamstrings and calves, their muscles twitching awake.
Hayato pulled his foot behind him, stretching his quadriceps. "We're going up against a tough team, so we can't afford to be stiff. Flexibility is key."
Shino's hands trembled slightly as he tried to match the group's fluidity. The noise from the crowd outside seeped into the gym like a low growl, unsettling him.
His movements were stiff, and he struggled to steady his breathing. Yukio noticed immediately and placed a reassuring hand on Shino's shoulder.
"Take a deep breath, Shino. Stick to the routine, and you'll be fine," Yukio said calmly.
The warmth of Yukio's hand was grounding, a small anchor in the swirling storm of nerves.
After about three minutes of stretching, Yukio clapped his hands together sharply. "Alright, time for drills. Form two lines!"
The players quickly split into two neat lines at the three-point line, their jerseys dampening slightly with sweat.
The polished floor gleamed under the bright gym lights, reflecting their eager faces.
Yukio began the passing drill with a sharp bounce pass to Takahiro, who caught it cleanly and sprinted toward the rim.
He passed back quickly, and Yukio executed a clean layup, the ball hitting the backboard before dropping through the net with a satisfying swish.
"Next!" Yukio called.
Noboru stepped forward, energetic and cocky. He passed the ball to Hayato and dashed toward the basket.
Hayato faked a pass before returning it to Noboru, who finished with a smooth layup.
Shino hesitated as he stepped up beside Tetsuo. Taking a deep breath, he passed the ball to Tetsuo and ran toward the rim.
Tetsuo returned the pass just in time. Shino took two quick steps and went for the layup, but the ball hit the backboard and bounced out.
"Oh… not again," Shino whispered, eyes dropping to the floor.
"You have plenty of time to get it right. Just focus," Yukio reassured him with a steady smile.
The team repeated the drill, working on passing, transitions, and finishing at the basket.
The rhythm grew smoother, confidence building with every successful exchange.
Then came the defensive footwork drills.
"Alright, pair up! Defensive slides, baseline to free throw line, let's go!" Yukio instructed.
Toshigawa's players bent their knees and moved laterally, arms extended and bodies low for balance. Their shoes scraped sharply across the floor as they pushed their limits.
Noboru grinned widely, his competitive fire ignited. "This is nothing! I could do this all day," he boasted.
"Save your energy for the game, loudmouth," Hayato smirked, maintaining perfect form.
The team ended the warm-up session with mid-range jump shots.
Yukio and Hayato's shots were crisp and consistent, the ball smoothly arcing through the air and landing cleanly.
Noboru missed most of his attempts, shrugging it off with a cocky grin. Shino struggled to find his rhythm, nerves still hanging on tightly.
Takahiro's shots were decent, but Tetsuo was flawless, not missing a single attempt.
Eiji, a first-year point guard for Yokonan, leaned against the wall, spinning a ball on his finger as he watched Toshigawa warm up.
Most of them looked nervous—especially that kid in number six.
But then he noticed number eleven.
Quiet. Composed. Shot after shot, the ball left his hands clean and dropped through the net without fail.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Eiji stopped spinning the ball. "...He's not missing," he muttered, eyes narrowing.
None of the flash, all of the focus.
"That guy's not just here to play around."
"Good, good. Keep the ball movement quick and efficient," Nanaho called from the sidelines, eyes sharp as she studied the team.
As Toshigawa wrapped up, they glanced across the court where Yokonan's players watched with amusement and disdain.
Ryuu, a towering figure at 190 centimeters, scoffed loudly. "All that effort just to get crushed," he muttered to his teammates.
"Doesn't matter. This game is gonna be a joke," another Yokonan player sneered.
Toshigawa gathered near their bench, wiping sweat from their faces.
Ryuu sneered, shoulders tensing as he leaned against the wall. "Ugh, these first years are such a pain. Why do we have to play these losers?"
"The captain took both of them and a couple of the second years out on a run, Ryuu," Manabu explained calmly, adjusting his glasses.
A tall player chuckled, spinning a basketball idly on his fingertip. "How much do you think we should score? One hundred and fifty? Or stick with our iconic 111 to 11?"
Ryuu's grin twisted cruelly. "That sounds about right. Let's crush these amateurs."
Manabu stepped closer, voice firm. "Um, can you guys show a little more respect? Coach is here."
"Let me check out the competition. One, two, three, four, five, six… looks like this game's going to be a breeze," said the player wearing number six, tossing a basketball lightly from hand to hand.
A tall, green-haired player, standing at 193 centimeters, stepped forward, arms crossed.
"Kayano, we cannot judge a team by its numbers. Remember, only five people can play on the court at a time." His tone was calm but carried an unmistakable authority.
Kayano's dark blue hair fell over his eyes as he scowled and crossed his arms tighter. "Say whatever you want, Kogure. Toshigawa Academy would be a walkover for our third team."
"Looks like we're playing the first team," Takahiro said quietly, shoulders tense but movements controlled.
"Yeah, it seems that way," Yukio replied, his voice calm and steady, grounding the team.
Shino shivered, fingers clutching the edge of his shorts. "O-oh no… this is bad!"
Noboru cracked a confident grin, leaning slightly forward. "I can take on anyone, so let them come."
Hayato's eyes narrowed as he scanned the approaching players.
Looks like Keichiro isn't here… wait, is that Takeshi Kayano and Kogure? he thought, keeping his expression neutral as the two figures neared the Toshigawa bench.
Kayano smirked, eyes blazing with competitive fire. "Oh, is that you, Hayato? I haven't seen you since junior high. How come you didn't play last year? If you did, maybe Toshigawa would have made it further. Wouldn't they, Kogure?"
Hayato's thoughts flickered uneasily. Didn't Keichiro or anyone who was there that day tell him what happened?
"That's none of your concern. All I know is that I'll beat you today," Hayato said firmly, tightening his fists at his sides.
Kayano's eyes flicked with a sharp gleam as he leaned slightly forward. "One step at a time. First, try to get Coach to take you off the bench. Then you can talk."
"I will," Hayato replied, jaw set. "And when I do, I'll shut you down for sure."
"Yukio, it's been a while. How have you been?" Kogure asked politely, his tone steady and calm, eyes briefly scanning the court.
"Everything has been great so far," Yukio replied, nodding slightly.
Kogure's lips quirked into a faint, teasing smile. "That's great to hear. I see you've put together a team. Hopefully, they don't get tired by the end of the first quarter. Sadly, I won't be playing—Coach won't allow me. Well, try your best not to be humiliated, okay?"
"Trust me," Yukio said, voice firm, confidence radiating from his posture and steady gaze. "We wouldn't have come here if we weren't ready."