Haruto stared at Ari after his deceleration. Both of Ethan's three-pointers had come from Haruto's own defensive failures. And Ari was... smiling? Completely chill?
"Alright," Haruto said finally, he felt something warm kindle in his chest. "Let's do it."
They had no time for further conversation. Ari nodded briefly to Santiago and rushed to pick up Shota, who already had the ball again.
Why is he so calm? Santiago wondered, watching Ari's pale, lanky form move with purpose despite the score. We're being destroyed, and he looks... almost happy?
Shota bounced the ball twice, his grin returning. "This is too easy. Like taking candy from babies."
Ari smiled back with kind closed eyes. "Easy? I just blocked you. You can't score without your teammates, can you?"
The words were carefully chosen. Designed to wound pride.
"You need the American, right? He's you guys' best player, right?"
A vein bulged on Shota's temple. The crowd noticed the hostility and started to shout:
"ONE-ON-ONE!"
"COOK HIM!"
"SHOW HIM WHO'S BOSS!"
"DESTROY THE FRAUD!"
They wanted blood. They wanted the personal duel. They wanted Shota to humiliate Ari directly.
Ethan saw it as it happened. His expression became one of great alarm. "Shota! GIVE ME THE BALL!"
But Shota wasn't listening anymore. His grin had turned maniacal, unhinged. Who does this nobody think he is? Mocking me? ME?!
*Thank God. It worked*
It had only taken Shota's fadeaway attempt for Ari Toru to know that Shota wasn't a natural shooter. He relied on his strength and speed, and finishing at the rim.
Ari just needed to bait one more shot. One more opportunity. Then brutalise him, and strike like a snake.
Shota charged down to his right with powerful speed. TAP TAP TAP TAP. The ball was being bounced at crazy speeds, and Ari stepped into its path. He didn't reach or swipe.
His hands weren't as fast as Shota's, so Ari decided to just give enough space, but not too much.
But still, it's not like he could push Shota in a direction he wanted.
It was getting Shota annoyed, and he was losing control of his movements. He raised the ball up to shoot... PUMP FAKE. Fairly convincing. It pulled Ari closer rather than make him dive up fully.
Shota used that opening and violently drove the ball right into Ari's face.
It was a tactic used by physically dominant players like LeBron James. To drive the ball directly at the defender, force them to choose between getting hit and giving space. It created hesitation.
Ari had no choice. He stepped back significantly, and just like that, Shota now had the separation he wanted.
Got him, Shota thought.
If only he knew he was still playing into Ari's trap.
He held the ball with two hands and JUMPED. A jump shot.
Surely he'd get it. This pale fraud was underestimating his range. And he was too far to even reach the ball.
But—
Ari wasn't going for the basketball.
Ari Toru leaped into the air and then
!!HIT!!
Ari's hand crashed into Shota's shooting shoulder with FORCE. The contact sent Shota spinning mid-air and made him fall almost flat on his back, if not that his hands came to the rescue. But a fall was a fall. The basketball just echoed in a distant bounce... no longer the focal point anymore.
Ari Toru, on the other hand, landed cleanly on both feet. Staring down at Shota's fallen body.
TWEEEEEEET!!! The whistle was loud and cut like a knife.
The crowd's reaction was instantaneous and visceral:
"DIRTY PLAYER!"
"KICK HIM OUT!"
"THAT WAS INTENTIONAL!"
"FRAUD AND DIRTY!"
"BREAK HIS LEGS!"
The insults had violence and rage and hate. Jeez, Ari scratched the back of his black hair. You'd think THEY were the ones I fouled.
He knew they wanted blood. They wanted consequences. They wanted him to be punished for daring to play dirty against their hero.
The tiny second-year coordinator stepped forward, face pale, and made the gesture: two hands pushing forward sharply.
Offensive foul? Nay.
Intentional foul.
Shit. Ari kept his expression neutral. I really couldn't make it look natural.
Ethan scoffed from his position. He looked disgusted and yet still surprised. Watanabe Shota already rose to his feet. Immediately, Shingo had to move and restrain Shota, because it looked like he wanted to commit genuine murder.
"YOU LITTLE TWIG! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" Shota struggled violently; it forced Shingo to dodge an errant elbow. "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL—"
"Calm down! Shota, calm down!" Shingo wrestled his teammate back, his own considerable strength barely sufficient. "He's trying to get you ejected! Don't fall for it!"
Ari didn't even look at them. He just stood there normally with a blank expression. Like he wasn't the one everybody was booing.
The coordinator approached him, and Ari could feel the fear that radiated off the older boy. "Hey. You."
Ari didn't turn to him. He only glanced over his back. "Yeah?"
The ref swallowed hard. There was something deeply unsettling about this player. "That's a flagrant-one. Intentional foul. You commit another one like that, and you're ejected from the game. Understood?"
Ari didn't reply immediately. He just stared with those void-black eyes. For a long time, there was an uncomfortable silence between the two. His eyes faced back up like he was staring at a monster in the high ceilings.
"Right."
Then he walked toward the free-throw line area, finding a spot to stand himself for the rebound opportunity. No dead-ball free throws, the ref had said. Which meant rebounds were in play.
Which meant opportunity.
In her seat, Tomomi Sachiko leaned forward. Her oversized glasses made her look so ridiculously out of place in this natural selection environment. But through our she kept watching Ari Toru from the prescribed lenses of her glasses.
She didn't understand basketball rules well, but even she could tell that foul had been deliberate. Intentional. Designed to hurt or at least intimidate.
Is Ari... a dirty player? The thought made her uncomfortable. She'd been building this image of him as an underdog, someone struggling against unfair odds. But that foul had been calculated. Almost cruel.
Was this how he played?
"Ari, what was that?"
It was a worried question from Haruto, who had just joined him in the free-throw area.
Ari Toru ignored the question completely and leaned in closer. "When he shoots the second free throw, I want you to run as fast as you can to the three-point line. Whether he makes it or not."
Haruto was visibly confused. "But the rebound—"
"Forget the rebound. It'll be two against two, one of them is shooting the free throw." Ari glanced at Shota, who was being positioned by the coordinator. "And I can rebound pretty well. Just trust me. Run to the three-point line."
Ari? Pretty good at rebounding? Haruto wanted to argue. Ari with his twenty-four-inch vertical? But the certainty in those onyx eyes stopped him.
"Okay. But... don't commit another foul like that. If you get ejected, it will be just me and Santiago vs. the three of them. We'll get massacred."
Ari nodded. "I know. This is the only one."
Shota was practically drilling holes through Ari with that glare. His whole body had so much murderous intent.
Ari put his hand dramatically on his chest, eyes wide in clueless shock. "Who, me? I would never foul someone on purpose. It must have been an accident. I'm just so clumsy, you know? These long arms—" He waved them demonstratively. "—hard to control sometimes."
Shota's grip on the basketball turned white, rage-knuckled. He growled at the restraint. The crowd's jeering went up to the roof. They wanted violence. They wanted to see Ari get beaten up.
A massive shadow was cast on Ari. When he turned, it was Santiago who leaned toward him. "Emm, Toru-kun... I don't think this is a very smart approach. He looks like he wants to attack you."
Even Santiago's calm voice held disapproval. Guess he didn't like the dirty foul either.
But Ari was unbothered. He waved his hands in a dismissive huff. "Hmm." He closed his eyes and nodded sagely. "Forget it, forget it. He can't do shit to me. What's he gonna do? Miss free throws at me?"
He made sure Shota heard every word.
Right then and there, Shota looked like he wanted to leap across the court and bludgeon Ari with the basketball. At least till Ethan grabbed his shoulder from behind.
"Calm down. You're getting upset over HIM? He's just an ant, remember? Nothing but a low-life who's trying to get in your head."
The words barely worked. It's not that Ethan didn't try. Despite the accent, they were intelligent and meant to be de-escalating words from a friend.
Yet Watanabe Shota's body could not quell that uneasy heat in his gut..
Everyone in the pavilion seemed to want Ari to fail, to suffer, to experience something very bad. Like an evil eye or terrible curses attacking from every direction.
Goro was enjoying this. And so he whispered.
///I SEE
Indeed, it had all become evident. He saw the manipulation. The captain saw everything.
The second-year referee wondered fearfully if he'd end up in between a brawl between sixteen-year-old giants. Then he swallowed hard and tried to project authority he didn't feel. "Po... ehm. Positions!" His voice cracked slightly. "Line up for free throws!"
Players moved into position along the lane. Santiago Cruz was closest to the basket on one side, Arakawa Shingo mirror-positioned on the other. Ari and Haruto on the outer positions. Ethan was facing opposite them.
The coordinator collected the ball from Shota's white-knuckled grip and walked to the baseline. He waited for Shota to signal readiness.
Then the second-year ref passed the ball.
Shota bounced the ball once. He tried to remain calm. He tried to ignore the pale vermin standing ten feet away. He raised the ball slowly, his shooting form skillfully correct—but stiff. His mind wasn't clear.
The ball rolled off his middle fingers and flew toward the basket.
CLANG.
It didn't even touch the rim but hit the right edge of the backboard.
The crowd groaned in disappointment but immediately rallied: "IT'S OKAY! YOU GOT THIS! SECOND ONE!"
After all, what were heroes without the support of the people?
Ethan closed his eyes briefly. He's completely rattled. The American hero considered saying something encouraging, but then he decided against it. For someone as proud as Shota, constantly reminding him to remain calm would only make him remember instead that he WASN'T calm—to the point that he needed to be reminded.
The low-cut-haired boy was visibly tense now. He felt stiff and still uneasy. He felt the phantom heat where Ari had hit him. Oh, he felt the mockery and manipulation sink into his bones.
The coordinator retrieved the ball and went back to the baseline again. Don't worry. You can get this one. Even the second-year ref was supporting the heroes. He passed the ball.
And Shota caught it again for his second free-throw attempt. So he bounced it once more. Then he raised his arms. SHOOT.
It was sent up to the rim. This time, it definitely looked much better than the last throw.
As the ball left his hands, Santiago's eyes tracked its trajectory... That's when he heard Ari's quiet voice say, "You're getting this rebound."
CLANG.
The ball hit the front rim hard and ricocheted high back up.
Haruto already knew his assignment. He RAN even before the ball reached its descent. He ran faster than the crowd expected. Now that the basketball was even off the rim, Haruto was already on the right side outside the three-point line.
Ari didn't even attempt to jump for the rebound. He ignored Ethan completely and instead used his body to block Arakawa Shingo's path. Ari just put himself between the power forward and the basket. It made it harder for Shingo to jump properly.
Not that it mattered.
When Santiago was on their team, he elevated like a mountain launching itself skyward. Dragon-talon hands extended and GRABBED the rebound with ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY. The ball disappeared into his grasp like it had been magnetically attracted.
"HARUTO HARUTO!" Ari's voice was rough and urgent.
Santiago turned, protected the ball with his body, and threw a two-handed chest pass to Haruto.
"What the—when did he—" Ethan had just noticed Haruto's position. The chubby shooter was wide open, completely undefended. His low presence made him so easy to forget.
Haruto caught Santiago's pass. His mind entered such calm that the rim got bigger and his muscles remembered exactly what to do.
He jumped forward with the ball close to his face. His ankles carried him up barely, but all he found, it seemed, was the rim... //SNAP.
The release was fast and angry. The ball was thrown like a fireball from a catapult.
It flew in a steep arc, and it went almost through the rim's net.
BASKET
(Team 8) 8 - 3 (Team 7)
The crowd booed. Loudly. Aggressively. They didn't want the villains to score. They didn't want any possibility of redemption.
But Ari rushed to high-five Haruto anyway. His pale, flushed face was split by a genuine grin.
"You planned this," Haruto was exhilarated but also in disbelief. He looked at Ari like he was trying to solve a particularly complex gothic puzzle. "The foul too... right."
That was the only way we could get possession.
That or forcing them to miss and relying on Santiago to rebound over 'em... over that power forward. But who knows how many points they could score till then?
However, Ari just laughed it off. Onyx eyes never got lighter, but the sclera of the pale one's eye only shone with light. "We don't have much. So... we have to use what we've got."
Internally, though, Ari was shocked. Santiago's rebounding ability far surpassed anything he'd imagined. The seven-footer had dominated that rebound so completely.
Made Shingo look helpless. And now...
Ari smiled. It was a vampiric expression. A predator with beautiful gap teeth. He was looking at Shingo as if Shingo was a human princess whose blood granted resistance to the sun.
And now I'm taking full advantage of this.
Shingo caught the pale one's look and felt something truly uncomfortable twist in his deepest gut. He was 6'10" and 250 pounds. He had been the biggest, most dominant player in most spaces his entire life.
But next to this Caribbean titan, he felt... small. Outmatched. And that pale bastard was planning to exploit it?
"Nice rebound, Santiago." Ari positioned himself. He took his time to receive the ball from the referee.
Santiago couldn't help but blush slightly. It was the visible darkening of his olive skin. He wasn't used to compliments. And he wasn't accustomed to being acknowledged for his contributions. "Ah, thank you, Toru-kun."
In the stands, Noriaki Yori leaned forward, his grey eyes intense. "This is bad for Team Eight."
Suzuha Goro nodded slowly. "Yes." His golden-brown eyes were locked on Toru Ari, who wore a small smirk as he prepared to initiate the offense. There were eyes of darkness that harbored the greatest secrets. "They're playing exactly how the slender man wants them to play."