The court was quiet except for the faint echo of a bouncing ball. The single overhead light cast a pale circle on the floor, leaving the edges of the court swallowed in shadows. Tetsuo's expression was calm, unreadable, as always.
"Oh, on that note, we have a practice match coming up," he said casually, spinning the ball on his finger.
Haruko's eyes lit up. "Really? Against which high school?"
"Yokonan High School." His tone didn't shift, still flat, as if he were talking about the weather.
Haruko blinked. "Yokonan? They're strong. How can you be this calm about playing them?"
"I know," Tetsuo said, stopping the ball and catching it softly in one hand. "But I believe we can beat them. No matter how good they are, they're still human—just like us. There's no reason to be nervous."
His confidence was quiet, but it felt certain, unshakable. Haruko stared at him for a moment, a small, hesitant smile creeping onto her face.
"Um… would you mind if I came to watch?" she asked, her voice soft, almost shy.
"There's no problem with that," Tetsuo said. He tilted his head slightly, finally meeting her gaze. "But why?"
"Well…" Haruko fiddled with a loose strand of her hair, her cheeks warming. "Honestly, I'd love to see my coach in action." She grinned playfully.
Tetsuo paused, raising an eyebrow. Coach?
"So… is that a yes?" she pressed, leaning in a little.
"Alright," he said, finally. "But tomorrow's a school day. You'll have to skip to come with us."
"Skipping one day won't hurt. Besides, I have a really reliable friend who'll get the notes for me," Haruko said with a little shrug.
She checked her phone and suddenly gasped. "Oh no—I should get going. I don't want to get in trouble."
"Leaving so suddenly?" Tetsuo asked, watching her hastily grab her bag. "Did something happen?"
"Well…" Haruko rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, chuckling under her breath. "I kind of, sort of… snuck out of the house."
"…I see." He looked at her blankly for a moment. "Before you go, I want to show you something."
"Show me what?" Haruko asked, puzzled.
Tetsuo stepped closer, his movement deliberate. He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders to guide her—so casual for him, yet it sent a tiny spark of heat rushing to her face.
"Stand here. On the free-throw line," he said, positioning her. "Play defense. Try to stop me. Pay close attention to my movements."
Haruko swallowed and nodded. "Okay."
The ball hit the court with a steady thump, thump as Tetsuo dribbled toward her. His steps were smooth, unhurried. She focused hard, watching his hips like she'd been taught. As he approached, he picked up the ball and took his first step—Haruko reacted instinctively, sliding to cut him off.
But then—he shifted. A second step in the opposite direction, so fluid she barely registered it. In the blink of an eye, he was past her.
"Wha—?" Haruko's breath caught. She spun around just in time to see him lay the ball off the glass. It kissed the backboard lightly and fell cleanly through the net with a swish.
The ball bounced once on the ground, soft and final.
Haruko stared, wide-eyed. "How… how did you break my defense so easily? You barely moved!"
Tetsuo caught the ball again, his voice calm. "It's a simple move. A Euro step. Think of it as a variation of a layup. Instead of taking both steps in the same direction, you step in two different directions. It throws defenders off—especially if you can read them."
"I… see," Haruko murmured. "It really caught me by surprise."
"You can practice it on your own. With time, you'll perfect it," Tetsuo said, offering her a faint nod.
Haruko smiled, a soft, genuine one. "Thanks. Really. I mean it. Because of you, I did so well in training the other day. I'm sure I'll do even better this season." She slung her bag over her shoulder. "Oh, and don't forget to text me the date, time, and where we'll meet. See you later."
She waved, heading toward the gate.
Tetsuo watched her silhouette fade into the night. I don't understand… why do I feel so at ease talking to her? he thought. It's almost like I've met her before. She has the same energy as my little sister… maybe that's why.
His quiet reflection was broken by a slow, deliberate clap… clap… clap. The sound came from the far end of the court, from the darkest corner the light couldn't reach.
Tetsuo turned.
A boy stepped out of the shadows, wearing a neatly pressed high school uniform. His smirk was sharp, but his eyes were cold.
"You're quite the player," the boy said. "Having a girl out here at this hour… I'm jealous."
Tetsuo didn't respond. His gaze stayed steady.
"The name's Tadao Hoshiguma. I'm sure you've heard of me."
Silence.
"Why so quiet all of a sudden?" Tadao tilted his head slightly, still smirking. "I was just praising you. It's impressive that you managed to pull a girl out of her house this late at night."
Tetsuo exhaled slowly. "We both know that's not why you're here. You were watching the whole time, weren't you?"
A glint flickered in Tadao's eyes. "You're smarter than you look. Good. Saves me some time. Let me be clear."
He took a step closer, his voice dropping lower.
"In the daytime, you and your little girlfriend can play here all you want. But after hours? This is my turf. So unless you want me to kick your ass, stay away. Can't say I didn't warn you."
He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked off, the faint sound of his shoes fading into the distance.
Tetsuo stared after him. Kick my ass? People still say stuff like that?
Meanwhile, Haruko slipped carefully through her bedroom window, closing it with painstaking quiet. She let out a tiny sigh of relief.
Click.
The room's light flicked on.
"Where have you been at this time of night?" a voice asked.
Haruko froze. "Sachiko…"
"I missed the part where that's your business," Haruko said sharply, keeping her back turned.
"It is my business," Sachiko replied, stepping closer. "You're my younger sister. I have every right to worry about you."
Haruko finally spun around, her voice rising. "If you really considered me your little sister, you would've backed me up when I needed you the most."
Sachiko's lips parted, but no words came out. She dropped her gaze. "…I'm here now. But if Mom and Dad find out—"
"Just leave my room."
"Haruko, I—"
"GET OUT!" Haruko shouted, shoving her sister toward the door and slamming it shut.
Sachiko stood in the hallway, stunned. That's the first time she's ever been so upset with me… Is it because I didn't say anything to Father? She wanted me to stand up for her, but I was too afraid. I'm the worst.
Elsewhere, an alarm beeped in the still darkness of another home.
Takahiro sat up, silencing it. He stretched, rubbing his eyes. "…So, today's the big day, huh?"
Downstairs, the smell of warm miso soup greeted him.
"Mom? You're up early," he said.
"I woke up to make breakfast for you," she replied with a soft smile. "It's the least I can do before your match."
Takahiro paused, touched. "…Did Dad say anything?"
"He wishes you the best. You just missed him."
"The old man really said that?" Takahiro muttered, hiding a faint grin.
"You're looking older every day, big brother," came another voice. His younger brother, Chihiro, shuffled into the kitchen. "Sometimes I mistake you for Dad. Why don't you shave that beard already?"
"Chihiro? You're up too?"
"Of course! I stayed up all night just to tell you—don't lose today, big brother!"
Takahiro chuckled, ruffling Chihiro's hair. "Thanks, little man."
"Hey! Stop patting my head! I'm not a kid!"
Meanwhile, Shino was already jogging through the dim streets. His breath came in steady clouds in the cool morning air.
Yokonan High School. I can't afford to relax. I want to help the team however I can.
"Aunty, I'm heading out!" he called as he passed his gate.
"Be careful, dear," his aunt replied, yawning. "It's too early for all this…"
Across town, Noboru was still sprawled across his bed, snoring so loudly it was almost impressive. Whatever dream he was having, it definitely wasn't about basketball.
At the riverbank, Hayato stretched slowly, looking out over the water. The reflection of the rising sun flickered on the surface.
I didn't think I'd see him again so soon, he thought with a faint smirk. I'm looking forward to testing my skills against him.
In his room, Yukio—the captain—curled a 25-pound dumbbell with one hand while calmly reading a book with the other.
Here goes nothing. Today, we see how far we've really come.
And back in his room, Tetsuo sat on his bed, eyes closed. He imagined the court, the moves, the rhythm of the game ahead. He drew in a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly.
When his eyes opened, they were calm but sharp.
"…It's time."