Everyone on Toshigawa's team slumped onto the bench, chests heaving. Their jerseys clung to damp skin, and their arms shook slightly from the relentless full-court pressure Yokonan had applied. The gym rang with the sharp squeak of sneakers and the thud of the ball against the polished wood floor. Sweat dripped into their eyes, and the faint scent of rubber from the court lingered in the air.
A bead of moisture slid down Noboru's temple, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"Goddammit!!" Noboru yelled, slamming his water bottle onto the floor. The plastic rattled loudly as water spilled across the polished wood, splashing against his shoes. He kicked at the puddle with the tip of his sneaker, teeth gritted, chest rising and falling rapidly from the effort.
"These guys… they're the real deal," Takahiro muttered, chest rising and falling heavily. He rubbed at the sweat dripping into his eyes with the back of his hand, leaving streaks across his flushed face. "I didn't think they'd be this tough… not even after two of their starters graduated."
Hayato wiped the sweat from his face. Even without Kayano and Kogure, these guys are a real challenge. And if Keichiro were here… they'd be completely running over us. His fists clenched tightly, and the strain in his legs throbbed with every heartbeat.
Shino slumped at the end of the bench, shoulders hunched and head bowed. He tugged at the hem of his jersey, damp fabric sticking uncomfortably to his skin. His throat tightened. I'm so useless… I can't even help the team when they need me. We're going to lose, and it's all my fault. He blinked back tears, swallowing hard as he watched the others, guilt and doubt etched across his quiet gaze.
Yukio stood up, determination burning in his gaze as he clapped his hands together sharply, the sound echoing. "The game is not over. It's just the first quarter, and as long as there's time left, we still have a chance. So wipe those sad looks off your faces and concentrate! We can do this!" he said with commanding presence, his voice cutting through the heavy atmosphere.
"Who said anything about giving up?" Hayato smirked, pushing himself up with a grunt. The scrape of his shoes against the bench floor cut sharply through the air. "I'm just getting started."
Noboru scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck, muscles tense from exhaustion. "It's so frustrating, using so much energy just to turn the ball over. You guys are holding me back! You better have some grand plan, Fukazawa."
"Well, I wouldn't call it grand," Nanaho admitted, glancing at Tetsuo seated quietly beside her, "but it's our best option, and it will definitely work."
Kogure stood on the sidelines, shaking his head with a dismissive snort. I guess Yukio was just bluffing. Besides him and number four, the rest of the team is either too basic or completely inexperienced. They don't stand a chance at making it to the Inter-High. He crossed his arms, eyes narrowing as he watched the players' reactions across the court.
Nanaho clapped her hands sharply, the sound snapping through the bench. "Does everyone get what they need to do?"
Noboru frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… I don't really get it."
"Just run to their basket," Yukio said, eyes narrowing with focus.
"Oh… okay. I'll just do that," Noboru muttered, letting out a weary shrug as he shifted on the bench.
"We've got six minutes left in the first quarter. Let's make them count!" Yukio rallied, his voice carrying across the bench. The team responded with a unified shout, slapping palms and shifting in anticipation.
"Tetsuo, you're in. Shino, sit down for now," Nanaho announced, her sharp tone cutting through the murmur of the players.
Shino lowered his head further as he sank into the bench, fingers nervously tracing circles on his thigh. Nanaho leaned over and patted his shoulder gently. "It's okay, Shino. Don't be discouraged. You just started learning the game, and you did well. Watch closely and learn from the match."
Haruko clenched her fists tightly, nails digging into her palms. They're down by fourteen… but with Tetsuo on the court, maybe they can start closing the gap.
"Oh, Toshigawa subbed a player? Let's see how this turns out," Kogure muttered to himself, eyes narrowing as he tracked the action on the court.
Coach Arimoto smirked from the sidelines, hands resting on his hips. "Good work, everyone. Keep up that formation and score more points."
"Yes, Coach!" the Yokonan players chorused, tugging at their jerseys and sliding into their defensive stances, the scrape of sneakers against the court punctuating their movements.
Hayato glanced at Yukio. "You should inbound the ball."
Yokonan snapped into their full-court press again, voices sharp as they called out assignments and set aggressive traps.
All of this is unnecessary, Kogure mused silently, arms crossed. It won't make a difference—they can't win.
"Alright… break!" Yukio shouted, slapping the ball above his head. Noboru and Takahiro bolted down the court, the pounding of their shoes echoing across the hardwood.
"Go cover them! Deny them the ball!" Eiji barked, eyes locked on Hayato.
As Noboru and Takahiro raced forward, Tetsuo planted a solid screen for Hayato near the right wing, catching Eiji off guard.
Damn! I let my guard down… wait, it's number eleven—the one who didn't miss in warm-ups! Eiji stopped chewing his gum, scrambling sideways to recover, sneakers squeaking sharply against the floor.
At that moment, Yukio spotted an opening. He swiftly inbounded the ball to Hayato, who caught it cleanly just past midcourt, slipping through Yokonan's press.
Tetsuo sprinted down the court, positioning himself near the left elbow. Without hesitation, Hayato launched a long, arcing pass toward him, the ball spinning smoothly through the air.
He caught it! What will he do now? Haruko thought, holding her breath and gripping the edge of the bench.
Tetsuo landed solidly, taking a single dribble before smoothly elevating into a jump shot from the top of the arc. His wrist flicked with precision, and he held his follow-through as the ball sailed toward the basket.
Ryuu scoffed, chest puffed confidently. "I'll rebound that—no problem." He shoved past Takahiro with sheer size, boots squeaking against the court.
Damn it! He's too strong! Takahiro gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he fought against Ryuu's frame, sneakers scraping sharply against the hardwood.
There's no way you can out-rebound me, so just— Ryuu's thought was cut short as the ball arced perfectly, swishing cleanly through the net.
Tetsuo barely spared a glance at the scoreboard as the ball sank—just a flicker of awareness, no visible reaction.
Yokonan High 18 – Toshigawa Academy 7.
The gap was closing.
He did it… Takahiro sighed, the tension in his shoulders finally easing.
"Great work, Tetsuo! Five more of those, and we're back in it!" Hayato called out, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Heck yeah, we're back in business!" Noboru said, his confidence returning with every word.
"Get back in formation! Let's stop this possession!" Yukio shouted, slapping his hands together sharply as he signaled the team.
The crowd shifted suddenly; murmurs rose through the stands as spectators leaned forward, surprised by Toshigawa's sudden spark. Some exchanged glances, whispering that maybe this game wasn't going to be the blowout they expected.
"Hey, great shot, number eleven!" a Yokonan student cheered, clapping loudly as the sound echoed through the gym.
Nanaho exhaled deeply, slumping onto the bench. "Finally… they scored a point. I was really starting to worry back there."
Tetsuo's presence makes it so much easier to bring the ball up the court, she noted quietly. He handles the pressure surprisingly well… especially for his first game.
Haruko's eyes sparkled. They finally scored more points… that was so cool, Tetsuo.
"Don't mind that shot! It was just a fluke!" Eiji barked, slapping the ball sharply to inbound it to Manabu, sneakers squeaking as he pivoted on the court.
Manabu, tightly guarded by Noboru near the free-throw line, executed a quick pump fake. Noboru took the bait, leaping into the air with a grunt.
Manabu smirked. Got him.
But as he went up for his shot, a hand shot out seemingly from nowhere—Tetsuo's hand.
With impeccable timing, Tetsuo swatted the ball mid-air, the sharp slap echoing across the court.
What the hell?! Manabu gasped, eyes wide. He was so far away… how does he jump that high?!
"Manabu, quit spacing out! Get back on defense!" Eiji shouted, voice cutting sharply across the court.
Tetsuo quickly recovered the loose ball and dribbled toward Yokonan's basket, Ryuu trailing close behind, sneakers squeaking as he raced to contest.
He faked a drive to the rim, drawing Ryuu in, but it was a setup. Tetsuo stepped back just behind the three-point line, creating space, and flicked his wrist. The release was so quick that Ryuu had no chance to react as the ball arced smoothly toward the basket.
Please go in… Haruko thought, closing her eyes tightly, fingers gripping the edge of the bench.
The ball arced gracefully through the air and sank into the net with a flawless swish, the sound crisp against the hardwood.
"Well, what do you know… made another one!" Kayano murmured, eyes narrowing with intrigue as he watched the shot.
"Nice one, Tetsuo! That's what I like to see! We're finally at double digits!" Nanaho grinned, waving her clipboard in the air as the sound of it tapping lightly against her palm echoed.
"Nice shot, Tetsuo-se—" Haruko stopped mid-sentence, cheeks flushing. Wait… did I just call him by his first name out loud? Oops…
But this can't be… how can they have a player like that… Manabu thought, stunned.
He snapped out of his daze just in time to see Eiji signaling urgently for the ball.
"Manabu, the ball!!"
"Huh? Crap!" Manabu fumbled, and Tetsuo wasted no time, snatching it cleanly from him, the sharp thump of the steal ringing across the court.
This is bad… I messed up. Coach Arimoto is going to be pissed, Manabu thought, sprinting after Tetsuo with all his might, sneakers squeaking sharply against the hardwood.
Tetsuo drove toward the basket, the ball thudding rhythmically as two defenders collapsed on him, trying to block his path. In an instant, he kicked the ball out to Hayato, who caught it in stride just inside the three-point line and pulled up for a smooth mid-range jumper.
The ball swished cleanly through the net.
"It went in! Six more points to go!" Hayato shouted, pumped, chest rising and falling rapidly from the adrenaline.
"Get back on defense!" Yukio commanded, voice sharp as his team sprinted back, sneakers scraping loudly against the hardwood.
Shino's eyes flickered upward, just catching the calm determination in Tetsuo's gaze. For the first time in the game, a small spark of resolve ignited behind his exhaustion.
The crowd murmured, leaning forward in their seats, voices rising with anticipation.
"Keep the pressure and momentum. Let's take the lead!" Nanaho's sharp voice cut through the noise, clipboard tapping lightly against her palm.
The scoreboard blinked: Yokonan High 18 – Toshigawa Academy 12.
The gym buzzed with electricity, the low hum of anticipation hanging thick in the air as sneakers squeaked and the ball thudded rhythmically against the hardwood.