The chirping of cicadas and birds filled the crisp morning air as students strolled through the school gates, some groggy and rubbing their eyes, others energized with conversation and laughter. The faint scent of early dew clung to the grass, and warm sunlight filtered through scattered clouds, casting golden beams across the campus courtyard. The rhythmic squeak of sneakers against tile echoed faintly from inside the gym.
"Hey, Yukio! Wait up!" shouted Takahiro, weaving through a cluster of students as he jogged up to his friend, his schoolbag bouncing against his back.
Yukio turned slightly, brushing a hand through his neatly combed hair and smiled with calm composure. "Oh, good morning, Takahiro."
"I heard the freshmen and sophomores have mixed gym class this morning—first session!" Takahiro grinned, his voice laced with energy and anticipation. "You know what that means."
"Yeah. The perfect time to scout potential players, build a solid team..." Yukio's tone shifted subtly as he stared ahead, the glint in his eyes sharpening. "...and go to the Inter-High this year."
Takahiro punched his palm. "Alright, let's see what these freshmen can do!"
Yukio gave a small nod, his expression neutral but thoughtful. I wonder what surprise awaits us today. I'm looking forward to it.
Meanwhile, in another hallway, the fluorescent lights flickered slightly above a boy with unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes. He stifled a yawn, one hand in his hoodie pocket, the other dragging his gym bag behind him.
"Damn, first session in the morning, and the physical component no less..." muttered Makoto Kurai, his voice thick with sleep and annoyance. "So frustrating. I didn't even get much sleep last night with all that ruckus in the apartment next door. I wonder what was causing all that noise." He rubbed his neck and winced. His joints still ached from tossing and turning all night.
"Um, Kurai... good morning," said a timid voice behind him.
Makoto blinked, turning slightly to see Shino standing there—slightly hunched, his uniform slightly wrinkled, and clutching his bag like it might float away if he loosened his grip.
"Huh? Oh, it's you. What do you want?" Makoto asked flatly, his tone edged with disinterest as he scratched his scalp.
"I heard that a mini-basketball tournament will be held for us freshmen this session."
Makoto stared blankly. "...And what does that have to do with me?"
"Well, we need five people to play, and as you know, I'm really shy and an introvert," Shino said, his voice small but quick, like words spilling from a shaken bottle. "You're the only person I've talked to since I started attending this school, so I'm asking if you could fill one of the spots. Please!"
Makoto sighed, exhaling through his nose as if Shino had just asked him to run a marathon. "Okay, okay, jeez. Quit making a scene out of it. I'll play. I'm going to ask our other classmates if they're willing to join too."
"There's no need to do that. I will participate in this activity," came a smooth voice from behind.
Both boys turned around.
A short boy with a confident smirk and immaculately styled hair approached, hands in his blazer pockets as though he owned the hallway.
"You're Noboru Takemoto, right?" asked Shino, blinking.
"I see that you still remember my name. How flattering," Noboru said, placing a hand dramatically over his chest.
Makoto rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. How could I forget? You did a whole damn speech in homeroom like we were on a talk show.
"Thanks for joining! However, we need two more people," Shino said, glancing around nervously.
"Don't worry, man, I got you covered. Naomi!" Noboru suddenly shouted across the gym, his voice booming with zero hesitation.
Heads turned. A girl with short black hair paused mid-stretch, her eyes narrowing.
"What?" she called back, visibly startled.
"Long time no see. How long has it been? Like two years?"
Naomi squinted. "Oh, it's just you. I should've known."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Noboru grinned. "Anyway, want to help us fill a spot in the class vs. class basketball game? If we want to win, we'll need someone with your expertise."
Naomi shrugged, popping her knuckles and rotating her shoulders. "Ah, sure. Why not? It might be fun."
"Okay, so now we need someone with height... Ah, found one." Noboru scanned the group, eyes settling on a tall figure standing quietly near the back row.
"Hey, you there in the middle—Kawaguchi, right?"
Tetsuo lifted his head slightly. The light from the windows cast shadows across his stoic face.
"Would you like to join us for the basketball game? We need five people to participate. You don't have to do much."
"I don't mind," said Tetsuo, voice low but audible.
"Just stay under the basket and hold up your hand," Noboru added playfully.
With the team formed, Noboru clapped his hands. "Alright, let's go!"
Shino watched him, blinking. This guy makes conversing look so simple... I wish I was as charismatic as him.
On the other side of the gym, sneakers squeaked and whistles blew as sophomore students gathered near the far bench.
"Let's hurry, Yukio! The first game is about to start," said Takahiro, bouncing on his toes, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Give me a minute, Takahiro. I'm almost done," Yukio replied, tightening the knot on his shoelaces. He stood up, stretching his arms as his jersey shifted slightly over his toned frame.
The PE teacher's sharp whistle cut through the buzz. Students lined up in groups, tension and curiosity thick in the air.
"Good, we made it in time. Oh, so the first matchup is Class 1T vs. Class 1H. I wonder which team will win," said Takahiro curiously.
"By the looks of it, it's definitely 1T. Be sure to keep an eye on them. We're recruiting players, after all," said Yukio, eyes scanning each freshman with keen precision.
He spotted the tall figure walking alongside Makoto. His gaze sharpened. "That kid—Kawaguchi. Keep an eye on him."
Makoto clapped his hands to gather the team. The polished hardwood underfoot reflected the overhead lights as players shifted nervously.
"So, for the whole ten minutes, we'll be playing man-to-man defense. Each and every one of us will be marking someone closely. Everyone okay with that?" asked Makoto, his voice more focused now.
They nodded.
"As for offense… Who's able to score?"
"Don't worry, I can make layups and near jump shots," said Naomi, cracking her knuckles, her voice calm but brimming with assurance.
"That's great! We can use that. I'm counting on you," said Makoto.
"Wait, how did you learn how to make a layup shot? Did you play for the girls' basketball team in junior high?" asked Shino, wide-eyed.
Naomi smirked. "Actually, I used to play basketball with the boys in my community. So, after a while, I just figured it out."
"I can also make layups! It's my specialty—I never miss," Noboru added proudly.
Makoto turned to Shino. "You already know I'm not good at the game," Shino mumbled.
"Figures. What about you, Tetsuo?"
"I'll just pass the ball around and do as much as I can on defense."
Makoto nodded, his voice firm. "So now that we've devised a plan, let's go win."
The ball bounced at center court, each echo sharp and rhythmic like a beating drum. The squeal of rubber soles gripped the air.
Tetsuo stepped into the circle, his shadow long beneath the gym lights. The opposing jumper, cocky and smug, cracked his neck.
Makoto squinted. Maybe I should've jumped... He knows nothing about the sport. But he has height over his opponent. He'll be fine.
The whistle shrieked.
The ball launched into the air. Both jumpers leapt—but Tetsuo rose higher, effortlessly, his body smooth in motion. His fingertips grazed the ball's leather surface and swatted it down to Makoto.
The crowd stirred.
"Whoa, look at that jump! He's got crazy athleticism!" Takahiro gasped.
"Alright, let's make a basket," said Makoto, dribbling hard, the thump of the ball echoing like a heartbeat.
He split two defenders with a quick step, then fired a crisp pass to Naomi. She caught it on the move, pivoted, and stepped around her defender for a clean layup off the glass.
"Nice shot, Naomi!" shouted Sachiko.
"What a great pass!" said Yukio, eyes narrowing. "He saw an opening and capitalized immediately. That's awareness."
Moments later, Noboru intercepted a loose ball, charged down the court, and tossed in a stylish layup with a flourish.
"You punks better step up your game," he taunted, spinning the ball on his finger.
"Nice shot, Takemoto," Naomi called.
"Call me Noboru. And yes, it's only natural."
Makoto snagged another steal, this time dashing through like a blur before scoring himself.
Sweat glistened on foreheads. Breaths came quicker. The sounds of sneakers, the smack of passes, the buzz of adrenaline—everything merged in a crescendo of motion and noise.
The whistle blew again. Two minutes left.
"They stole the ball again! There's only ten seconds left. Let's see what they'll do!" a student shouted from the bleachers.
"I won't let you embarrass me any further!" yelled a Class 1H defender.
Makoto feinted left, spun right, and passed behind his back—no look.
The entire gym turned.
Tetsuo stood at the three-point line, eyes calm.
He rose—legs straight, elbow bent, fingers flicking with picture-perfect follow-through. The ball arced high into the air, catching the overhead lights in a gleaming spiral.
Makoto's eyes widened. What the... Why did he shoot that?
"Swish."
The net snapped clean.
Silence.
Time froze. Even the teacher forgot to blow the final whistle.