"You want to know if your team can reach Inter-High?" Kenji said, bouncing his worn basketball. "Let me show you the difference between us. Let me show you what national-level basketball looks like."
He walked to a clear area of the park and used a fallen tree branch to draw a large circle in the dirt—about three meters in diameter.
"The rules are simple," Kenji explained. "Neither of us can step outside this circle. If you can steal the ball from me, you win. If you can't... well, you'll understand why your team has no chance."
Sora looked at the circle, then at Kenji. "And if I win, you join the basketball team."
Kenji laughed bitterly. "I'm getting expelled tomorrow. There's no team for me to join."
"That doesn't matter. Just agree to it."
"Fine. Whatever. It's not like you'll win anyway."
They stepped into the circle. A few children playing nearby noticed and gathered to watch, curious about what was happening.
Kenji began dribbling, his ball handling smooth and controlled. "Come on then, shorty. Try to take it."
Sora crouched low, studying Kenji's movements. The rules actually favor me. I'm smaller, more agile in tight spaces. I just need to read his dribble pattern, anticipate his moves...
He darted in for a quick steal—
Kenji executed a lightning-fast crossover, the ball whipping to his other hand. Sora's fingers grasped at air.
"Too slow!" Kenji taunted. "You should quit now. Winning against me? It's out of the question."
Sora's eyes blazed with determination. "I'll NEVER quit!"
He attacked again, using his enhanced speed to close the distance—
Kenji spun away, his footwork perfect, the ball seeming to be magnetically attached to his hand.
Again and again, Sora tried. Each time, Kenji was one step ahead—behind-the-back dribbles, between-the-legs moves, hesitations that left Sora lunging at shadows.
This small circle, Sora thought, frustration building, it feels like the entire court. No matter how fast I move, he's always just out of reach.
He watched Kenji dribble, and despite his frustration, he couldn't help but be mesmerized. The ball moved like it was alive, responding to the slightest touch. Every movement was purposeful, beautiful even. The gathered children were watching with wide eyes, completely captivated.
This is why Momoharu wanted him so badly, Sora realized. His basketball has a magnificence that attracts attention. He's not just skilled—he's an artist.
Sora fell to his knees, gasping for breath. I'm nowhere near his level. Not in pure ball handling. Not in this kind of one-on-one situation.
"See?" Kenji said, not even breathing hard. "This is the difference. You're good, Kurumatani. Maybe even great. But there are levels to this game, and you haven't reached mine yet."
"Don't give up, mister!" one of the children called out.
"Yeah! You can do it!" another shouted.
"Keep trying!"
The children's innocent encouragement struck something deep in Sora. He looked at their faces—full of belief, completely convinced he could succeed.
They believe in me. Complete strangers believe in me.
He pushed himself to his feet, his legs trembling but holding.
"I haven't given up," Sora said, his voice steady despite his exhaustion.
Kenji noticed the change in his expression—the determination had shifted to something else. Something absolute.
"You don't know when to quit, do you?"
"Never."
Sora attacked again, and this time something was different. His movements were sharper, more focused. He almost touched the ball—
Kenji pulled it away at the last second. "Give up already!"
"No."
Another attempt. Closer this time.
"You're just wasting your energy!"
"Just... a little more... effort..."
Kenji's mind drifted as he dribbled, memories flooding back unbidden.
His father—his real father, not the stepfather—teaching him basketball in their driveway. "The ball is your partner, Kenji. Treat it with respect, and it'll never betray you."
Endless hours of practice, just him and the ball, after his father passed away.
His mother remarrying. The new man who saw Kenji's basketball as a waste of time.
Leaving home. Leaving Juri. All because of basketball and pride.
In that moment of distraction—
Sora's hand shot out with perfect timing and stripped the ball cleanly.
SLAP!
The sound echoed in the quiet park.
Sora held the ball, both of them frozen in shock.
"I told you," Sora said, breathing hard but smiling. "I won't quit. Ever."
Kenji stared at him, his carefully constructed walls cracking. "You... you actually..."
"We can play one-on-one as many times as you want," Sora continued, his eyes blazing with competitive fire. "And I'll always be able to keep up. I'll always find a way to win. Because that's who I am."
He stepped forward, holding the ball out to Kenji.
"If you doubt the team, then don't. Doubt me instead. No—believe in me. Believe in Sora Kurumatani, who wants to win more than anything in this world."
Kenji took the ball slowly, his expression unreadable.
"And you know what else?" Sora's smile widened. "I'm not going to stop at Inter-High. I'm going to claim Nationals. I'm going to become the number one player in all of Japan. That's my goal. That's my promise."
"You're insane," Kenji whispered. "You're 149 centimeters tall. You just played your first real game ever a few days ago. And you're talking about becoming number one in Japan?"
"Yes. Because height doesn't matter. Experience doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is whether you're willing to give everything to achieve your dream." Sora's expression was absolutely serious. "So join us, Natsume. Help us reach Inter-High. Help me reach Nationals. And I'll help you keep your promise to Juri."
Before Kenji could respond, a stern voice cut through the moment.
"Kenji Natsume."
They turned to see Satsuki approaching, his expression grim. Behind him were Yasuhara, Nabe, and Chucky—along with the three senior students Kenji had fought in the gym.
"Advisor Satsuki," Kenji said, his voice flat. "Here to make the expulsion official?"
"Actually," Yasuhara stepped forward, "we brought these guys to tell you what really happened."
The three seniors looked uncomfortable but determined.
"Go on," Satsuki commanded.
The senior with the bandaged nose spoke first. "Natsume was alone in the gym, just practicing. We came with Nishiwaka-senpai. He told us to... to recruit Natsume for his group."
"Or else?" Satsuki prompted.
"Or else teach him a lesson," another senior admitted. "Natsume refused to join. We surrounded him. Started pushing him around. He told us to back off. We didn't listen."
"So he defended himself," the third finished. "We threw the first punches. All he did was fight back."
Satsuki's expression didn't change. He turned to Sora. "And what do you want, Kurumatani?"
"I want you to revoke his expulsion," Sora said immediately. "Kenji is innocent. He was defending himself."
"I don't care about the reasons," Satsuki said coldly. "Natsume's punishment is a consequence of injuring those people. Even if it was justified self-defense, violence is unforgivable in a school setting."
"So he should have just let them beat him up?!" Yasuhara shouted.
"Yes." Satsuki's answer was absolute. "Instead of fighting back, Natsume should have taken that beating. He needs to learn about accepting pain. About restraint. About the consequences of violence."
"That's insane!" Nabe protested.
"That's reality." Satsuki turned to leave. "My decision stands. Natsume will be expelled effective tomorrow."
"Wait—" Sora started.
But Satsuki was already walking away.
"Damn it!" Yasuhara kicked the ground in frustration. "We brought those guys here for nothing! I hate teachers!"
He turned to the three seniors. "Get lost. Stay away from us and stay away from Natsume."
The seniors left quickly, clearly relieved to escape.
Kenji looked at Yasuhara. "I didn't ask for your help."
"I wasn't helping you," Yasuhara said gruffly. "This is my way of apologizing."
"Apologizing?"
"When we first met, I kicked your ball instead of passing it to you. I didn't realize then that it was something precious to you. Now I get it."
Kenji's grip tightened on his basketball.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Yasuhara continued. "Those guys attacked you. You just defended yourself. And anyone who loves basketball as much as you clearly do... deserves better than this."
Without another word, Yasuhara walked away, Nabe and Chucky following.
Kenji stood there silently, then turned to leave as well.
"Natsume!" Sora called after him.
Kenji paused but didn't turn around.
"I meant what I said. I'll find a way to stop your expulsion. And when I do, you're joining our team."
"You're wasting your time, Kurumatani. Some things can't be fixed."
"I don't believe that. And soon, you won't either."
Kenji walked away into the growing darkness.
Sora turned to Yasuhara. "What did you mean, the ball was precious to him?"
Yasuhara sighed. "When I first met Natsume, he was practicing alone. I saw his ball and instead of asking to pass it nicely, I just kicked it. Hard. Like it was garbage. He went ballistic."
"And the fight with Nishiwaka's group?"
"Same thing. They saw him practicing, tried to take his ball, treated it like a toy. Natsume snapped." Yasuhara's expression softened. "That worn-out basketball is probably the only thing he has left from his real father. It's not just a ball to him—it's his connection to the person who taught him to love this game."
Sora looked in the direction Kenji had gone, understanding clicking into place.
That's why he practices alone. Why he doesn't trust people. Everyone who matters to him either leaves or takes away what he loves.
"I need to talk to Satsuki-sensei," Sora said suddenly.
"He won't listen," Yasuhara warned.
"Then I'll make him listen."
-----
Kenji walked slowly across the bridge, his basketball tucked under his arm. The night was cool, the river below reflecting the city lights.
"Excuse me."
He turned to see Chiaki Hanazono sitting on a bench, looking characteristically relaxed.
"Do you have any paper towels?" Chiaki asked. "Spilled yogurt on my hands."
Kenji pulled a small packet from his pocket and tossed it over. "There's a public restroom near the bridge if you need to wash up properly."
"Thanks." Chiaki wiped his hands, then held up his yogurt container. "Want some? As payment for the towel?"
"I'm good."
Chiaki noticed the basketball. "You're that freshman everyone's talking about. Thinking about joining the basketball team?"
"I'm being expelled," Kenji said flatly. "So joining is out of the question."
His phone rang. The familiar ringtone.
"Sorry," Kenji said, answering. "Juri? What's wrong?"
Chiaki watched with interest as Kenji's entire demeanor changed—the hard edges softening, genuine warmth entering his voice.
"No, everything's fine... Yes, I'm still planning to play in Inter-High... Don't worry about me, just take care of yourself and Mom..."
Footsteps approached. Momoharu appeared, slightly out of breath.
"Chiaki, there you—" He stopped, seeing Kenji. "Natsume."
Kenji held up a finger, still talking to his sister.
"I love you too, Juri. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Sweet dreams."
He hung up and looked at the Hanazono brothers. "What do you want?"
"To talk," Momoharu said. "About what happened. About—"
"Save it. I'm not interested in sympathy or pity. What's done is done."
"You took the fall for us," Momoharu said quietly. "You could have let them disband the team, but you spoke up. Why?"
Kenji was silent for a long moment.
"Because Kurumatani was right about one thing," he finally said. "You guys actually believe you can make it. Even with beginners on the team, even with all the odds against you. That kind of stupid optimism..." He almost smiled. "It reminds me of why I used to love basketball."
-----
Kuzuryu High School - Next Morning
Sora stood outside the men's restroom, waiting. He'd been there since before classes started, knowing Satsuki would pass by eventually.
The advisor appeared, saw Sora, and tried to walk past.
"Please," Sora said, following him. "Just listen—"
"I have nothing more to say on this matter."
"Then just listen! You don't have to respond!" Sora followed Satsuki into the hallway. "Kenji Natsume made a mistake, but he's not a bad person! He's just someone who's been hurt and doesn't know how to trust anyone!"
"That doesn't excuse violence."
"He was defending himself against multiple attackers! What was he supposed to do, let them hospitalize him?!"
"Kurumatani—"
"He has a little sister who believes in him! Who's waiting for him to keep his promise! If you expel him, you're not just punishing him—you're breaking that little girl's heart!"
Satsuki stopped walking. "I understand you're emotional about this, but—"
"I'm not being emotional, I'm being logical!" Sora stepped in front of him. "Kenji has elite-level basketball skills. He could help our team compete at the highest level. More importantly, basketball might be the only thing that keeps him from going down a really dark path. If you take that away..."
The restroom door opened. Kenji stepped out, his expression determined.
"Sensei," Kenji said formally, bowing. "I know I don't deserve it. I know my record speaks against me. But please—give me one more chance."
Satsuki's expression was unmoved. "And what would you do with this chance?"
"I'd join the basketball team properly. I'd follow every rule. I'd avoid every fight, no matter what." Kenji's voice was steady. "And I'd help take Kuzuryu High to the Inter-High Tournament. I vow it."
"Bold words from someone with your history."
"Then let me prove them. Give me until the Inter-High Preliminaries. If I cause even one problem, I'll accept expulsion without protest."
Footsteps approached. The Principal appeared, having apparently overheard the conversation.
"Satsuki," the Principal said thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should consider this."
"Sir, with all due respect—"
"I know Natsume's record. I also know that every student deserves a chance to change. And if he's willing to commit to the basketball team, to give himself structure and purpose..." The Principal looked at Kenji. "Young man, do you understand what you're promising?"
"Yes, sir."
"And Kurumatani," the Principal turned to Sora, "you're vouching for him?"
"Completely," Sora said without hesitation. "I believe in him."
The Principal considered for a long moment.
"Satsuki, reverse the expulsion. Put Natsume on probation instead. But understand, young man—one incident, one fight, one rule broken, and you're done. No appeals. No second chances. Am I clear?"
"Crystal clear, sir," Kenji said, bowing deeply.
The Principal nodded and walked away.
Satsuki looked at both of them, his expression severe. "Don't make me regret this."
He left as well.
Sora and Kenji stood in the hallway alone.
"You didn't have to do that," Kenji said quietly.
"Yes, I did. Because you're my teammate now."
"I haven't officially joined—"
"You vowed to take us to Inter-High in front of the Principal. That makes you part of the team." Sora grinned. "Welcome to Kuzuryu High Basketball, Natsume."
Kenji looked at this tiny first-year who'd somehow saved his future, who believed in impossible dreams, who refused to accept defeat.
"You're crazy, Kurumatani."
"I know. But you're stuck with me now."
For the first time since arriving at Kuzuryu High, Kenji smiled—a real, genuine smile.
"Fine. Let's do this. Let's take this team to Inter-High."
"And then Nationals," Sora added.
"One miracle at a time, shorty."
They walked together toward the gym, where the rest of the team was waiting.
The road to Inter-High had just gained its most talented—and most troubled—player.