The gym smelled faintly of varnished wood and lingering sweat. A few overhead lights hummed quietly, casting soft reflections on the polished court. The sound of sneakers squeaking echoed lightly as the players stretched.
"Finally, it's time for training." Hayato exhaled as he bent down, feeling the tightness release in his hamstrings. He rotated his neck slowly, loosening the stiffness from hours of sitting. I work hard in class for times like this.
"Yes, time to get to work. I'll dunk everything today." Liam's grin was relaxed but confident. He rolled his broad shoulders, fingers flexing as if already gripping the rim. His long strides left faint echoes on the hardwood as he warmed up.
He spotted two familiar figures entering. "Oh, good evening, Yukio, Takahiro. Are you guys ready for training?"
"Mm… I'm looking forward to today's session." Yukio's fingers tightened briefly around his sleeve before relaxing. The corners of his mouth lifted, restrained, and his shoulders eased as he faced forward.
"Me as well. Sitting in the classroom for that long was starting to wear on me." Takahiro raised his arms over his head, stretching until his back released with a dull sound. He exhaled slowly, tension leaving his shoulders as his arms dropped.
His eyes shifted toward the doorway, lingering there. "I'm wondering where Nanaho and the first-years are. It's unusual for her to arrive this late."
A sharp yell cut through the steady sounds of the gym. The door slid open as Nanaho stepped inside, her grip firm as she pulled Noboru along by the ear. Her brows were drawn low, jaw set, her pace unbroken.
"Ah—wait, that hurts. You're pulling too hard." Noboru stumbled to keep up, one hand rising to his ear as his steps faltered. His face tightened, breath coming out unevenly as he leaned away from her grasp.
"Enough." Nanaho's arm moved without hesitation, her knuckles striking the top of his head with a muted impact. The sound carried briefly through the gym before fading. Noboru winced, rubbing the sore spot.
"…She's in a bad mood." Makoto spoke without lifting his head, his weight settled unevenly as one heel dragged lightly against the floor. His voice stayed low, almost idle, as his eyes shifted sideways for a moment. Let's stay out of her way.
"…Hopefully, I don't either." Shino stepped into the gym with measured caution, his voice kept low as his shoulders drew in slightly.
Meanwhile, Tetsuo followed a short distance behind them, his footsteps quiet and unhurried. His gaze remained unfocused, fixed somewhere ahead without settling. Both hands rested loosely in his pockets, his shoulders lowered more than usual.
His thoughts returned to Tomoe's expression from earlier. The tension around her eyes, the pause before she spoke, the effort she made to keep her voice steady. The weight she carried alone stayed with him as he walked.
Makoto bounced the ball at an unhurried pace. The repeated thump against the wooden floor spread through the gym, even and steady. He moved to the top of the key, knees bending slightly as his weight settled.
Hayato stepped in front of him, feet planting wide as he dropped into a defensive stance. His knees stayed bent, one hand hovering near the ball while the other remained raised, eyes fixed on Makoto's movements.
Tetsuo changed direction sharply toward the paint, his sneakers releasing a brief squeal as he pivoted. Yukio set his feet and held his position, arms drawn in close as his body absorbed the contact. Takahiro's balance shifted a step as his foot slid back.
Makoto's gaze moved to the opening without pause. His wrist turned, and the ball struck the floor once before threading cleanly through the tight space between them.
The ball came up cleanly into Tetsuo's hands. His fingers closed around it without hesitation, the texture firm against his palms as he lifted into his shot. His arms extended, wrists beginning to turn.
At the same moment, movement entered his peripheral vision. Liam drove upward in a single motion, legs pushing hard against the floor as his body reached full extension.
His arm cut across the space above Tetsuo's hands, and his palm struck the ball with a sharp sound. The impact knocked it free, sending it skipping away across the court.
Makoto and Hayato moved forward together, their sneakers screeching softly as they brushed against each other. Both hands reached toward the ball. Makoto's fingers made contact first. He didn't fully close around it, instead guiding it quickly toward Yukio, who was moving into the paint.
Yukio secured the ball as he moved, his left foot landing lightly before he took a measured step. He rose smoothly, extending his arms as the ball met the backboard with a soft thud and fell through the net with a quiet swish.
"Wow… nice shot, Yukio-senpai!" A girl's voice carried from the sideline, sharp enough to cut through the gym's hum. Hands clapped lightly nearby, the sound scattering across the floor as others joined in.
Tetsuo remained near the paint, still. His gaze dropped to his hand, watching his fingers curl and extend with deliberate slowness.
"Hey… Tetsuo, you alright?" Makoto's head tilted slightly as he spoke, eyes flicking toward Tetsuo. His voice stayed low, carrying a trace of attention without urgency, shoulders loose as he shifted his weight casually.
"…Yes. Let's return to defense." Tetsuo pivoted and began jogging back, each step measured and quieter than usual. His shoulders stayed low, arms moving with minimal effort as he rejoined the formation.
Hayato moved the ball down the court, each dribble deliberate and even. He shifted his eyes toward the post, sending a firm chest pass to Liam.
Liam felt Yukio pressing lightly against his back. He adjusted his shoulder, pivoted on his right foot, and pushed upward with controlled force. His fingers closed around the rim, which shivered under his grip before settling back with a sharp metallic clink as he completed the dunk.
Tetsuo secured the ball quickly and moved to inbound it without pause. "Screen," Makoto muttered.
Yukio slid into position, planting himself firmly beside Hayato. Makoto pressed close to the screen, rotating his body in a single motion as he guided the ball from Hayato.
He stepped into a small opening, lifting his shooting hand with precision. The ball rolled off his fingertips, tracing a clean arc before slipping through the net with a soft swish.
Hayato collected the ball and passed it quickly to Takahiro. Takahiro stayed low, knees bending with each controlled dribble. He shifted sharply to the left, then crossed back to the right, maintaining steady momentum.
Tetsuo's reaction lagged; his feet didn't adjust in time. Takahiro moved past him, guiding the ball gently off his fingers. It floated through the air and dropped cleanly through the net without touching the rim.
"Good job, Takahiro." Liam's lips curved into a grin as he lifted his hand, moving forward to meet Takahiro's with a solid, confident slap.
On the far side of the court, Shino practiced on his own. His breathing stayed even, though a slight strain crept in as he continued attempting a behind-the-back dribble.
The ball struck the floor in a dull, repeating rhythm. Each time it passed behind him, it slid just off his palm. The grooves brushed across his fingertips, enough to register the lack of control.
His chest tightened briefly, and he released a slow breath through his nose, keeping his posture steady. His sneakers gave a soft squeak as he adjusted his footing.
Sweat gathered at his hairline and ran down the side of his face, leaving a faint itch he ignored. He bent his knees further, tension building in his legs. Once more, he drove the ball across his body. It rose a bit too high, bounced unevenly, and veered away to his side.
"…No—again." The words barely carried as Shino moved after the ball, steps quick but controlled. He caught it with both hands, fingers pressing into the leather before settling his grip.
He reset his stance and slowed the motion. The ball rolled into his palm with more consistency this time, its weight registering clearly as his breathing steadied. "…Focus."
I really wanted to be out there with them today. Shino kept his voice down, eyes fixed on Yukio as the ball was driven into the rim with one hand.
His gaze tightened, lids narrowing slightly as his breathing steadied. The feeling settled without spilling outward. He straightened his back and reset his footing before moving again.
The ball passed behind him cleanly, brushing his fingertips as it returned to his hand. A brief shift crossed his face, subtle and restrained, then disappeared. He continued without pause, repeating the motion as the steady thump of the dribble aligned with his breathing.
Across the gym, Noboru's voice cut through the noise in open protest. "…This is awful. Why am I the only one stuck doing push-ups?"
His arms shook as he lowered himself again, elbows bending unevenly. Sweat darkened his palms against the floor, fingers splaying as he pushed back up, breath breaking out of him in short bursts.
"Oh? I wonder why." Nanaho's voice cut in cleanly. She stood with her arms folded, her weight resting on one hip as she looked down at him. "Could it be because someone earned a detention?"
Her gaze stayed fixed, unblinking. "Do you have any idea how much effort it took to deal with that?" She shifted her stance slightly, heel tapping once against the floor.
"I had to lower my head and ask Hamada-sensei to let it go. He agreed, but only after I took on grading all the first-year exam papers." She drew in a slow breath, then exhaled through her nose. "So you'll make up for it here. Two hundred push-ups. After that, fifty suicides."
"What… that's not fair. How am I supposed to finish all of that and still have time to train?" Noboru's voice wavered as his strength gave out.
He dropped to his knees, hands catching him on the floor as his shoulders sagged. His chest rose and fell unevenly, sweat dripping from his chin while his head hung low, exhaustion settling into his posture.
"Anything you miss today can be taken care of tomorrow." Nanaho's lips curved slightly as she spoke, the expression controlled and deliberate.
"…She's unbelievable." The words slipped out as Noboru let himself fall flat for a moment, his chest pressing against the floor.
His arms spread wide as he drew in a rough breath. After a brief pause, he planted his palms down and pushed himself back up, muscles shaking as he reset his position.
Back on the main court, Makoto guided a precise pass to Tetsuo on the wing. Tetsuo planted his feet near the arc, lifting the ball into his shooting pocket. He released it cleanly over Takahiro's outstretched hands, but it struck the rim with a dull clank.
Yukio and Liam jumped at the same moment, their bodies brushing mid-air as elbows made light contact. Liam's reach extended slightly higher, and he caught the rebound firmly against his chest.
Before he could regain balance, Makoto moved in, fingers sliding against the ball to pry it free. He nudged it outward and moved quickly to collect it, scooping it up before sending it back to Tetsuo.
Tetsuo paused barely a fraction, then lifted and flicked his wrist. The ball spun tightly through the air and dropped cleanly through the net with a crisp swish.
The girls along the stairs above cheered, voices rising and hands clapping lightly. Harumi stood slightly apart, still and quiet, a faint curve at the corner of her lips.
She murmured under her breath, barely audible over the noise, "Tetsuo… really something else, isn't he?"
"Good shot, Tetsuo." Yukio raised one hand as he spoke, palm open at shoulder height. His expression stayed relaxed as he held the gesture for a moment, waiting for Tetsuo to pass by.
"…Yes. Captain." Tetsuo's voice stayed low as he passed, his hand brushing Yukio's only briefly before dropping away. He turned and jogged back toward his side of the court.
Yukio let his hand fall and watched him go, eyes tracking Tetsuo for a beat longer than necessary before he exhaled and shifted his focus back to the play.
In the locker room, the boys changed back into their school uniforms, the air filled with the soft sounds of fabric and lockers closing.
"…Is it just me," Makoto murmured, tugging lazily at his sleeve as he leaned back against a bench, "or did Tetsuo seem a little off today?" He spoke without looking up, voice loose and unhurried.
"He was quieter than usual." A brief pause followed as he adjusted his collar. "And his defense was sloppy. That doesn't really suit him."
"…Now that you mention it, he seemed off." Liam pulled his shirt over his head, voice light and airy. His eyes opened wide for a moment, the thought striking him. "That was the first time I blocked him."
A short laugh escaped him, shoulders loose, movement easy as he finished changing.
"…Today, I saw him miss many shots." Hayato shifted slightly, hands brushing along his uniform. His eyes focused ahead, shoulders tightening briefly. I wonder if he is alright…
"…Are you all forgetting? He hasn't changed. He's always quiet." Noboru's hands rubbed at the sore muscle on his arm, fingers pressing lightly into the tension. "…Missing a shot, getting blocked… it doesn't matter. Even skilled players have days like this."
"…You have a point, Noboru." Nanaho's gaze softened slightly, eyes lowering for a moment before returning to the group. "…But with him, it feels different. He even left earlier than usual."
"…Think about it, Noboru." Makoto leaned back against the bench, one hand draped over his knee, voice casual and light. "…Or maybe your brain is too slow to notice, even if something serious happened."
"…What? I'm not letting a lazy fool who can't focus in class talk to me like that!" Noboru's shoulders tensed, hands clenching briefly at his sides. His gaze sharpened, eyes locking on Makoto.
"…For your information, I might doze in class, but I still study later." Makoto let out a long, slow yawn, eyes half-lidded, voice casual and unhurried. "…You just bother everyone. You'd be perfect for a comedy act."
"…Why you…" Noboru's voice deepened as he stepped forward, shoulders tensing. Before he could get closer, Liam moved in smoothly, lifting him off the ground with one arm.
"…That's enough. Fighting isn't good." Liam's voice stayed calm, a bright smile on his face.
"…Hey! Put me down, you big oaf!" Noboru's legs kicked, body twisting slightly, his hands grasping at Liam in protest.
Shino let out a quiet, short chuckle, his cheeks coloring faintly. "…Come on, everyone. Let's go home."
Liam's voice stayed bright as he began walking toward the exit, steps light and easy. "…Didn't you hear me? I said let go!" Noboru's voice rang out again, sharp and forceful, bouncing lightly off the walls.
Shino stayed slightly behind, shoulders drawn in, eyes flicking between them, his small smile still lingering as he kept quiet.
Nanaho's eyes moved to Yukio, a subtle crease forming between her brows. "…Yukio… what do you think is happening?"
"…To be honest, I'm not sure." Yukio's shoulders relaxed slightly, eyes flicking toward the court before returning to Nanaho. "…But whatever is happening, he won't stay like this for long. He'll be back to himself. Let's go… Nanaho."
Nanaho gave a small nod. The gym fell into quiet, footsteps gradually fading as they all walked out, leaving only the soft, empty hum of the space behind them.
Later that evening, the atmosphere had shifted, quiet and still. "…I'm home."
Tetsuo's voice stayed low as he slid the door closed behind him. He bent slowly to remove his shoes, movements deliberate. The faint scent of simmering miso soup drifted from the kitchen. Warm, dim light spread across the wooden floor, casting soft golden patches around him.
"…Welcome home, big brother." Usagi's voice floated from the kitchen, light and cheerful. Her footsteps padded softly across the floor. "…I was getting tired of waiting. I made dinner tonight too."
Tetsuo stepped into the small dining space. The table had been set neatly with two bowls of steaming soup, a plate of grilled fish, and a small dish of pickled vegetables. A kettle hummed softly nearby, its sound steady in the background.
"…Thank you." His voice stayed low as he reached out, resting his hand briefly on her head. "I really depend on you."
His palm moved gently, fingers brushing through her hair. It felt clean and soft, carrying a faint trace of shampoo as his hand withdrew. She lifted her eyes to him, small brows drawing together in concern.
"…Big brother… are you okay? You're not acting like yourself. What happened?" Her voice wavered slightly, careful and uncertain.
"…I'm fine. Nothing's wrong." Tetsuo's voice stayed low, calm but carrying a distant, measured tone.
"…I don't always understand you." Usagi's voice stayed soft, fingers twisting lightly at the hem of her shorts. "…You keep things inside a lot."
She hesitated, eyes lifting to his face, searching. "…But I can tell something's bothering you." A small breath followed before she continued. "…So… please tell me."
Tetsuo exhaled slowly, the quiet pressing around him. "…There's a girl in the literature club. I noticed her eyes first. Cold. Empty. Something must have happened to her."
He paused briefly, fingers brushing the edge of the table. "…They reminded me of mine. I wanted to help. But… I think I made it worse. That's why I've been like this today. It's… a new feeling."
Usagi's expression softened, fingers clasping lightly in front of her. "…No, you didn't make it worse."
Her voice stayed gentle, careful. "…I'm surprised you went out of your way to help her. That's new for you. And I'm glad you feel this way."
She tilted her head slightly, eyes meeting his. "…But don't blame yourself. You tried because you wanted to. She noticed that. So… don't let it weigh on you."
Tetsuo's shoulders eased, the tension in his body loosening in the quiet warmth of the room. "…Thanks."