Sora held the ball at the top of the key, studying Kenji "Tobi" Natsume carefully. The freshman's defensive stance was perfect—knees bent, weight on his toes, hands active but not reaching.
He's good, Sora thought. Really good.
He took a moment to assess before making his move.
"You know," Sora said casually, still dribbling, "you're probably the best overall player I've seen so far."
Tobi's eyebrow raised slightly. "Trying to psyche me out with compliments? Weak."
"I'm serious," Sora continued. "You have advantages I don't—height, versatility in scoring, probably better athleticism overall. You can score from more positions, more ways than I can."
"Then why are we even playing this?" Tobi smirked. "Just admit defeat now."
Sora's expression hardened, his eyes blazing with competitive fire. "Because being the better overall scorer doesn't mean you'll beat me. Basketball isn't just about tools—it's about how you use them."
He attacked.
A quick crossover right—Tobi stayed with him perfectly.
Sora pulled back, creating space, then drove left. Tobi's lateral movement was excellent, cutting off the lane.
Fast, Sora noted. And smart. He's not biting on fakes.
Sora executed a step-back, creating just enough space for a shot—
Tobi closed out hard, hand up to contest—
Sora released anyway.
SWISH.
1-0.
"Lucky," Tobi muttered, taking the ball.
"We'll see," Sora replied, dropping into his defensive stance.
Tobi attacked immediately, no hesitation. His first step was explosive, his handle tight. He drove right, and Sora had to scramble to stay in front.
Tobi rose up for a mid-range jumper—smooth form, quick release—
SWISH.
1-1.
"Not bad," Sora admitted.
"I'm just getting started."
----
Five Minutes Later - Score: 6-6
The game had become a back-and-forth battle. Both players were showcasing their skills, neither able to pull away.
Tobi had the versatility advantage—he could score from everywhere. Mid-range jumpers, drives to the basket, even a few post-up moves using his height advantage.
But Sora had his enhanced abilities and perfect shooting form. Every shot he took seemed to find the bottom of the net.
"You're better than I thought," Tobi admitted, wiping sweat from his brow. "Those shooting mechanics are ridiculous."
"And your all-around game is elite-level," Sora countered. "You'd start on most teams in the prefecture."
"Then why are you keeping up with me?"
Sora smiled. "Because I refuse to lose."
He attacked again, this time using a Himuro-style fake—shoulder dip suggesting a drive, then pulling back for a shot.
Tobi bit on the fake for just a fraction of a second—
But it was enough.
SWISH.
7-6, Sora.
----
Yasuhara, Nabe, and Chucky watched in amazement.
"Kurumatani's keeping up with him," Nabe said quietly.
"More than keeping up," Chucky corrected. "He's winning."
"That freshman is no joke though," Yasuhara admitted. "His game is complete. He can do everything."
Footsteps approached from behind. They turned to see Momoharu walking toward the court, his expression dark.
"What's going on here?" the captain demanded.
"That freshman challenged Sora to one-on-one," Yasuhara explained. "Winner gets to set terms."
Momoharu's eyes narrowed as he watched the game. "That kid's skilled. Really skilled. But Sora's—"
SWISH.
Another bucket for Sora. 8-6.
"—holding his own," Momoharu finished.
----
Game Point - Score: 10-9, Sora
Both players were breathing hard now. The intensity had ramped up with each possession.
Sora had the ball, one point away from victory.
Tobi's defensive pressure was at maximum. "You're not scoring this one."
Sora attacked, using his enhanced speed to create separation. He drove hard right—
Tobi recovered, staying in front—
Sora crossed over left, the movement so quick it was almost invisible—
Tobi stumbled slightly, his balance disrupted—
Sora rose up—
SWISH.
11-9. Game over.
Sora landed and immediately extended his hand. "Good game."
Tobi stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, surprisingly, he took it.
"You're good," Tobi admitted. "Better than I expected."
"So are you. Which is why we need you on the team."
"I don't—"
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"
Momoharu's shout interrupted them. He stormed onto the court, his expression furious.
"Hanazono-senpai," Sora started, "this is—"
"I know who he is," Momoharu cut him off, glaring at Tobi. "He's the punk who attacked Yasuhara."
Tobi's expression turned cold. "He got in my face. I defended myself."
"By sweeping his legs? That's not defense, that's assault."
"Maybe your teammate should learn to control his temper."
Momoharu stepped forward, getting in Tobi's face. "Listen here, freshman—"
Tobi's leg shot up in a kick aimed at Momoharu's head—
The captain's forehead came down in a headbutt, stopping the kick cold. The impact was solid, painful for both of them.
"I won't fight back," Momoharu said through gritted teeth, blood trickling from where Tobi's shin had connected. "But I won't let you disrespect my team either."
Tobi lowered his leg, his own expression pained. "You're all crazy."
"Maybe. But we're a team. And if you can't respect that, we don't want you."
Tobi grabbed his bag. "Fine. I didn't want to join your pathetic team anyway."
He started walking away, then paused.
"But Kurumatani," he called back, "you're wasted on this team. You should transfer to a real school with a real program."
Then he was gone.
----
The team gathered after cleaning up from the confrontation.
"What happened out there?" Momoharu asked, his forehead now sporting a small bandage.
"We saw Natsume practicing," Yasuhara explained. "His skills were really good, so I approached him to compliment him and suggest he try out for the team. He immediately got hostile, called us losers and delinquents, then swept my legs when I got upset."
"That's when Sora showed up and challenged him to one-on-one," Nabe added.
Momoharu sighed heavily. "Listen, all of you. I had a meeting with the school advisor this morning. We're on extremely thin ice. Any type of fighting, any violence, any confrontation—even if we're defending ourselves—and the team gets disbanded. Immediately. No appeals."
The room went silent.
"So what do we do if someone starts something?" Chucky asked.
"We walk away. No matter what they say, no matter what they do. Basketball is more important than our pride."
"And if that freshman shows up again?" Yasuhara asked. "What if he decides he wants to join after all?"
Momoharu's expression was firm. "Then I'll deny his entry. We don't need players who can't respect their teammates, no matter how skilled they are."
-----
Next Day
Kuzuryu High's basketball teams were supposed to have the gym today. The boys' team had arrived early, eager to practice after missing yesterday.
But when they entered, they froze.
Kenji "Tobi" Natsume was already on the court, dribbling a basketball. And he wasn't alone—the girls' basketball team was there too, watching him with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.
"What is he doing here?" Momoharu growled.
Tobi dribbled casually, weaving between the girls' team members who were trying to set up for their practice. His ball handling was flashy, unnecessarily showy.
"Excuse me!" one of the girls said. "We're trying to practice—"
Tobi drove past her without acknowledging, his speed and agility on full display.
Madoka stepped forward. "Hey! This is our practice time! You need to—"
Tobi executed a behind-the-back dribble that came dangerously close to hitting her, forcing her to step back.
Sora had seen enough. He jogged onto the court, positioning himself between Tobi and the girls' team.
"Natsume," Sora said calmly but firmly. "The boys' team can't practice here right now. This is the girls' team's scheduled time. You need to leave."
Tobi's eyes gleamed with challenge. "Make me."
"I'm not going to fight you. I'm asking you to respect the schedule and leave."
"You beat me yesterday. Maybe I want a rematch."
"Then challenge me outside. Not here. Not now."
Tobi smirked. "What if I don't feel like it?"
He drove toward the basket, and Sora moved to cut him off—
Tobi executed a vicious crossover, the ball whipping between his legs so fast Sora barely tracked it. The move was elite-level, something you'd see from a professional player.
Sora stumbled, his balance disrupted by the unexpected skill—
Tobi blew past him, heading straight for the basket—
One of the girls' team members was standing under the basket, frozen in surprise—
"MOVE!" Madoka screamed.
But it was too late.
Tobi went up for the layup, and the girl tried to get out of the way—
CRASH!
They collided mid-air. The girl went down hard, her head hitting the floor with a sickening thud.
The gym went silent.
Then chaos erupted.
"SOMEBODY CALL THE NURSE!"
"SHE'S NOT MOVING!"
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
Madoka was already kneeling beside her teammate, checking her pulse. "She's unconscious! We need help NOW!"
Momoharu grabbed Tobi by the collar, lifting him off the ground. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
Tobi's expression was shocked—genuine fear in his eyes for the first time. "I didn't mean—she was supposed to move—"
"SHE'S A PERSON, NOT AN OBSTACLE!" Momoharu roared.
Teachers rushed in, the nurse arriving with a stretcher. The unconscious girl was carefully loaded onto it and rushed to the infirmary.
The school advisor arrived, his expression thunderous.
"EVERYONE. PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. NOW."
As the teams filed out, Sora looked back at the court where drops of blood marked where the girl had fallen.
This, he thought grimly, is going to be a problem.