Kayano stepped toward Hayato, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
"That was a great match, Hayato. I hope to see more from you."
Hayato grinned, chest rising and falling from exertion, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Yes… you're pretty alright yourself. I'll be coming back for revenge at the Inter-High preliminaries."
Kayano raised an eyebrow, arms crossing loosely over his chest.
"I see. Well, your team has its work cut out for it."
"What do you mean?" Hayato tilted his head, eyes narrowing.
"You have two powerhouse teams to overcome before you even get to the preliminaries." Kayano shifted his weight slightly, smirking.
"And trust me—they're strong."
"I see. Thanks for the heads up." Hayato nodded, brushing sweat from his temple.
Kogure walked toward Tetsuo, each step quiet but deliberate on the polished court. Sweat ran down his temples, and his jersey clung to his back.
"You did good with that block," his voice even and firm, carrying across the quiet gym.
"But we're not kids anymore."
Tetsuo didn't respond. He just looked at him, calm, unreadable, eyes steady.
Kogure paused, holding out his hand.
"That was a good game. I finally got the chance to settle the score of who's better… but I'm not satisfied. Let's play again in the Inter-High prelims. Don't you dare lose before you reach us."
Tetsuo's eyes flicked to the hand for a brief moment, then back to Kogure.
His voice low and deliberate, almost measured.
"Our goal is to go to the Inter-High."
A smirk tugged at Kogure's lips.
"I expected no less. I'll be waiting, Tetsuo."
His grip tightened briefly on the offered hand, then released it in a swift motion.
The quiet hum of the scoreboard and the faint scent of sweat from the court hung in the air between them.
Neither moved, but the tension lingered. Their message was clear.
"It's been a while, Yukio." Keichiro stepped closer, sneakers squeaking softly on the hardwood.
"Yeah, you could say that." Yukio wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, glancing aside.
"How's your brother?" Keichiro's gaze flicked toward him.
"He's been well; we just haven't spoken as of late." Yukio's voice was low, eyes drifting briefly.
"That's good to hear. Has he been keeping up with his basketball training?"
"I can't say I'm sure about that."
"I see. You guys did well against us. I hope we can play again someday, and next time, I'll be playing." Keichiro's lips curved into a faint smile before he stepped back.
"It won't make a difference. Next time, we plan on winning." Yukio's jaw tightened slightly, eyes fixed ahead.
Keichiro gave a small nod and turned away.
"We won, huh?" Eiji grinned, hands on his hips.
"Yeah, barely." Keichiro tapped the top of Eiji's head lightly.
"Ouch! Why, though? I didn't do anything."
"That's captain to you."
Keichiro clapped his hands once, voice cutting through the lingering buzz in the gym.
"Listen up, everyone!"
The team froze, sweat rolling down necks, jerseys sticking to backs.
Shoes squeaked as they shifted weight uncomfortably, hearts still racing from the match.
"What you did today showed me that all of you are slacking off. We almost lost at our own home court, and in the history of this team, that's never happened." Keichiro's glare swept over them, sharp enough to draw a shiver from the younger players.
"I'm really disappointed in your performance, even though we won."
A tense silence followed. Only the hum of the overhead lights and the rhythmic drip of condensation from the AC unit filled the gym.
"So, starting tomorrow, the A team will be joining me on runs before and after training. Am I clear?"
"Yes! Captain!!" Several voices cracked with fatigue and frustration, but the affirmation rang out.
Keichiro turned to the side, eyes narrowing, scanning the remaining players.
"That includes both of you too. We're doing this as a team."
Kayano groaned, tilting his head back, dragging a hand down his face. Breath heavy, he muttered under it,
Seriously… you've got to be kidding me.
Beside him, Kogure rolled his neck, stretching slowly, arms resting behind his head.
"If we want to stay on top, this is the price." His tone was calm but firm, voice steady.
"No one remembers a team that only wins easy games."
Kayano glanced at him, scoffing lightly.
"Yeah, yeah… you're starting to sound like the captain now."
As Toshigawa's players exited the court, Manabu stayed at the sideline, shoulders tensing. His eyes locked onto Tetsuo, walking calmly near the back of the group.
Fingers clenched into a fist at his side.
I'll become better… so I can defeat you with my own strength the next time we meet.
The lens of his eyeglasses caught the glare of the gym lights, glinting sharply.
Outside the gym, a boy leaned against the wall, tilting his head.
"Hey, how did the game go against Toshigawa?"
"We won against them, but barely. Kogure scored a basket in the final second." The reply came quick, voice carrying faintly through the hallway.
"Really? That guy truly is something else."
"You can say that again," another student added, adjusting his backpack strap.
Meanwhile, Noboru lay in the infirmary, the ceiling fan spinning slowly above him.
The soft murmur of voices drifted through the slightly cracked door.
He shifted onto his side, the thin bedsheet rustling beneath him. His body felt heavy, ribs still sore. Eyes unfocused, gaze drifting to the window.
I see… so we lost, huh? His lips barely parted, voice low and almost swallowed by the hum of the fan.
The gym still hummed with tension, the faint squeak of sneakers on polished wood mixing with quiet murmurs from the players.
Kanae, president of the newspaper club, adjusted her bag over one shoulder, brow slightly furrowed.
"Well… we got the shots we needed," she remarked, voice steady and precise.
Yuri snapped a few final pictures, lowering her camera slowly. Her legs ached from sitting cross-legged on the bench, but she stood carefully, stretching stiff muscles.
"That last basket… it was incredible timing. Shame it wasn't enough."
Airi bounced on her toes, cheeks flushed from excitement and exhaustion.
"Yes, it was amazing! Yukio almost turned the game around! Toshigawa really fought until the end!" Her voice carried through the quiet gym, soft but full of energy.
Kanae gave a small nod.
"Don't forget to get post-game quotes. Even in a loss, this match will make a good article."
The three of them moved toward the exit, sneakers tapping lightly against the floor. Yuri's camera strap clicked against her side as she followed Kanae and Airi.
You guys played well… I hope they can take this experience into the next tournament, Kanae thought, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. She scanned the gym one last time, noting the sweat-streaked jerseys and the tension still lingering in the air. Even in a loss, they gave it everything.
Evening fell, stretching long shadows across the sidewalk as Toshigawa's team moved toward the front gate. Their steps were slow, feet scraping lightly against the gravel, heels pressing into small stones.
They all seem so bummed out, Haruko thought, eyes tracking the group. She looked at Tetsuo, walking silently beside them, gaze forward, face calm.
But I think they did a good job. That match could have gone either way. One thing's for sure—Tetsuo is really good, and he's so cool.
Nanaho's eyes scanned the players as they walked, noting the faint sheen of sweat clinging to hair and jerseys. The evening air was warm, heavy with the scent of asphalt, sweat, and the faint trace of freshly cut grass. Streetlights flickered on in the distance, casting pools of soft yellow light across the courtyard.
Their footsteps crunched lightly against the gravel path. No one spoke.
I have to figure out a way to break this silence, she thought, adjusting the clipboard against her side. The loss still lingered, thick and weighty.
She glanced at Noboru, slouched in the middle of the group, hands tucked in his jacket pockets, eyes unfocused.
Normally, he'd be talking, cracking half-jokes, or arguing about a call. But now… Noboru is usually loud and confident, but now he seems really down.
Suddenly, the sharp sound of running footsteps cut through the still evening air. A jacket flapped over a swimsuit as a girl approached.
"Tetsuo!!! Tetsuo!!!" her voice called out, urgent and trembling.
"Huh? Who's that girl?" Shino asked, startled, eyes widening.
Before anyone could react, she threw her arms around him. The impact pressed against Tetsuo's chest and shoulders, her jacket brushing against his own uniform. Her hands clutched the back of his shirt tightly, fingers trembling as if afraid he might slip away.
"Whaaat?!" everyone gasped.
"How does she know Tetsuo? Are they dating?" Haruko whispered, a jolt running through her chest.
Tetsuo stood motionless, arms at his sides, blinking slowly.
Who is this girl? he thought, calm yet alert.
"Tetsuo… I can't believe you're here…" she whispered, voice shaking. Tears ran down her cheeks, hot and wet against the cool evening air.
"Kogure… he told me everything about you. That you were the boy from years ago. I… I thought I'd never see you again."
Tetsuo stiffened slightly, caught off guard by her intensity. The faint scent of shampoo reached him, mingling with the lingering sweat from the gym. He blinked, expression unreadable.
Aoi's chest rose and fell rapidly, her grip unwavering.
"You disappeared from my life, and I didn't know where you'd gone. I missed you… every day. Every single day…" Her words trembled, spilling out in uneven bursts. A shiver ran down her arms as she clung tighter, her sniffles punctuating the quiet.
Tetsuo's hands hovered near her shoulders for a brief moment, uncertain, but he didn't push her away.
The night pressed around them, the hum of streetlights and the faint rustle of trees filling the silence.
Kogure told her? Tetsuo thought, trying to recall any memory of her. I don't know her, do I?