The atmosphere was heavy. Despite technically winning, the second-half performance had drained all enthusiasm from the team.
Yasuhara was the first to voice what they were all thinking. "I've lost all my motivation."
"Same," Nabe agreed, his head down. "We couldn't even beat a girls' team without Sora. What's the point?"
"We're just dead weight," Chucky added quietly. "Holding back the talented players."
"Don't say that!" Sora stepped forward, his voice urgent. "You can't give up! You just need more practice, more development—"
"We heard the numbers, Sora," Yasuhara interrupted. "Twenty-nine point swing when you sat. We're not good enough. Maybe we'll never be good enough."
Sora looked around desperately for support. "Nao! Tell them—"
He turned to where the manager had been standing, but she was gone.
"Where did she go?" Sora asked.
Madoka pointed toward the exit. "She left right after her assessment. Looked upset."
----
Nao walked quickly, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
I only wanted to test their skills, she thought miserably. Not destroy their confidence. Not make them feel worthless.
She wasn't watching where she was going—
Her foot landed in a rain gutter filled with muddy water.
"Ah!" She stumbled, catching herself but now with one shoe completely soaked and muddy.
Great. Just perfect. I ruin their team spirit AND ruin my shoes.
She spotted a small park nearby with a water fountain. Limping slightly, she made her way there to clean off her shoe.
----
"Nanao-san!"
Nao looked up from where she was trying to clean her shoe with water from the fountain to see Sora jogging toward her.
"Kurumatani-kun? What are you—"
"You forgot this." He held up her notebook. "It was on the bench."
"Oh! Thank you!" She reached for it, then winced as she put weight on her muddy shoe.
"What happened to your leg?" Sora asked, concerned.
"Just stepped in a gutter. It's fine, really—"
"Let me help." Without waiting for permission, Sora knelt down and gently took her shoe, using the fountain water to clean off the mud.
Nao felt her face heat up. "You don't have to—"
"It's no problem! We're teammates, right?" Sora's smile was bright and genuine.
Teammates... The word made Nao's guilt intensify.
"Kurumatani-kun, I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to demotivate your team. I just wanted to test your skills objectively, but I went overboard. I... I have a habit of doing that."
She took a shaky breath. "Something similar happened in middle school. I analyzed our team so thoroughly that some players felt inadequate. I made them think they weren't good enough."
Sora continued cleaning her shoe, listening carefully.
"I don't think I'm suitable to be your team's manager," Nao continued, her voice breaking slightly. "I'll just hurt more than help. So... I'm resigning. But I wish you and your teammates good luck. I really do believe in your potential."
She bowed quickly, then turned to leave—
"Wait, you forgot your notebook again!"
But Nao was already gone, practically running to avoid breaking down in front of him.
Sora stood there, holding her notebook and her now-clean shoe, utterly confused about what had just happened.
-----
"What do you mean she resigned?!" Chiaki's usual lazy demeanor had completely evaporated. He looked genuinely distressed. "But she was perfect! She understood basketball! She made detailed notes! She—"
"Are you going to quit too?" Sora asked pointedly.
Chiaki deflated. "I... no, but..."
"Then pull yourself together."
Momoharu put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You need to find a purpose in life, Chiaki. A goal. Something that matters beyond just showing up."
"She was my purpose," Chiaki muttered. "Having a cute, knowledgeable manager made practice worth attending..."
"THAT'S NOT A REAL PURPOSE!" Momoharu shouted.
Kenji, who'd been silent, finally spoke up. "Honestly? We should move on. A manager shouldn't act like a coach anyway. It's overstepping."
Sora turned to him, frustration evident. "She was testing our skills! Giving us objective feedback! That's exactly what a good manager does!"
"She wasn't even an official member of a basketball team," Kenji countered. "Just a manager. The most crucial competency for a coach is that they should have been a player first. That knowledge cultivates into improving the team. I don't want to receive instructions from an inexperienced person who's never actually played."
"That's not fair—" Sora started.
"It's reality," Kenji interrupted. "If she'd actually played at a high level, she'd understand what it takes. But she hasn't."
"You're wrong about her!" Sora's voice rose. "You don't know—"
"Oh? And you do?"
"YES!"
Satsuki stepped between them. "Enough! Both of you, calm down!"
In the commotion, Nao's notebook slipped from Sora's basketball shorts pocket and fell to the floor.
It landed open, pages spreading across the gym floor.
Yasuhara picked up one page. His eyes widened. "Whoa..."
"What?" Nabe leaned over to look.
The page was covered in meticulous notes:
Yasuhara - Analysis
Strengths: Natural defensive instincts, good rebounding positioning for size, aggressive mentality
Weaknesses: Defensive stance too upright (recommend daily wall-sits to build muscle memory for lower stance), lateral movement needs work (cone drills 15 min daily), hands too active leading to reaching fouls (watch film of Kawata's positioning)
Training Plan: Focus on fundamentals - 100 defensive slides per day, practice staying vertical on contests, study help defense rotations
Chucky picked up another page, his mouth falling open.
"She analyzed all of us," he said in awe. "Down to specific drills and training schedules."
Momoharu gathered several pages. Each one was incredibly detailed—not just identifying weaknesses, but providing specific, actionable solutions.
"This is..." Chiaki looked at a page analyzing his own play. "This is professional-level scouting."
Madoka, who'd been watching quietly, spoke up. "Kenji, you said Nao wasn't experienced. You're wrong."
Everyone turned to look at her.
"Nao started playing basketball when she was six years old," Madoka continued. "Her father runs Sports Nanao—a sporting goods store specializing in basketball equipment. She grew up around the sport. She played competitively through elementary school and into middle school."
"Then why is she a manager?" Momoharu asked.
Madoka's expression softened with sympathy. "She switched to manager in her second year of middle school. Her small physique—she's even shorter than Sora—made it hard to compete as players got bigger. And she's... accident-prone. Gets injured easily."
She looked directly at Kenji. "She gave up playing not because she didn't love it, but because her body couldn't keep up with her passion. So she found another way to contribute. By becoming the best manager she could be."
Sora held up the notebook. "So by your own logic, Natsume, she IS qualified. Years of playing experience, deep knowledge of the game, analytical skills most coaches would envy. She's exactly what we need."
Kenji was silent, looking at the scattered pages of meticulous analysis.
"I..." He picked up a page analyzing his own play. It was brutally honest but constructive, identifying his reluctance to pass but also praising his elite shot-making and suggesting specific drills to improve his decision-making. "I may have been wrong about her."
The gym doors opened.
Nao stood there, soaking wet, covered in mud, with leaves in her hair.
"Madoka-senpai!" she called out, not seeing the boys yet. "Do you have a towel? I fell in the riverbank trying to help some kids catch crayfish under the Kawasaki Bridge and—"
She finally noticed the entire team staring at her.
And her notebook spread across the gym floor.
Her face turned bright red. "That's... those are... my private notes..."
"They're incredible," Momoharu said sincerely. "I've never seen such detailed analysis."
Sora walked over, carefully gathering the pages. "You spent hours on this. Analyzing each of us. Creating specific training plans. This isn't just manager work—this is elite-level coaching."
"I just..." Nao's voice was small. "I wanted to help. I saw your potential and I wanted to contribute somehow—"
"Nao," Sora interrupted gently. "Our team can become better if we follow your advice. Actually, we NEED your advice. Your analysis is exactly what we're missing."
Yasuhara stepped forward. "I'm sorry I got demotivated. Your assessment was harsh but fair. And these notes..." He held up the page analyzing him. "This is what I need to improve. Please, teach me."
"Me too," Nabe added. "I want to get better. Show me how."
Chucky nodded enthusiastically.
Even Kenji stepped forward, bowing slightly. "I was wrong to dismiss your expertise. I apologize. Your knowledge is legitimate."
Momoharu grinned. "So what do you say, Manager? Will you help make Kuzuryu High into an Inter-High team?"
Chiaki clasped his hands together. "Please? I'll actually try at practice if you stay! I'll run drills! I'll do conditioning! Just please be our manager!"
Nao looked at all of them—this ragtag group of former delinquents and beginners, led by the most determined short player she'd ever met.
Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time from happiness.
"Yes," she said, her voice stronger now. "I'll be your manager. I'll help you reach Inter-High. All of you."
The team erupted in cheers.
As they celebrated, Sora handed Nao her notebook. "Thank you for not giving up on us."
"Thank you for not giving up on me," she replied, smiling through her tears.
------
Next Day - After School, Second Floor Bathroom
Sora stood outside the boys' bathroom, staring at the cleaning supplies with resignation.
Sleeping in class three times this week, he thought ruefully. Sensei wasn't joking about punishment.
He'd been up late every night studying game film and working on training plans with Nao via text. His enhanced stamina meant he didn't need as much sleep as normal people, but apparently, his body still wanted it during boring lectures.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Let's get this over with."
He pushed open the bathroom door—
And froze.
Sitting at one of the sinks, textbooks spread out in an impossibly organized fashion, was Alisa Kujou.
She looked up, equally surprised to see him.
"Kurumatani? What are you doing here?"
"I... bathroom cleaning duty. For sleeping in class." Sora held up his cleaning supplies. "What are YOU doing here? This is the boys' bathroom."
"I'm aware," Alisa said coolly, though her cheeks colored slightly. "I forgot my calculator in the classroom next door. And since it's quiet here after school, I decided to study while I waited for the student council meeting."
Sora blinked, processing this. "Oh! So you heard something suspicious and came to investigate?"
"What? No! I just—" Alisa's composure cracked. "Why would I— I wasn't investigating anything!"
"It's okay, Kujou-san. It's really responsible of you to check out strange noises in the school!" Sora's innocent sincerity was completely genuine. "That's good student council work!"
In Russian, Alisa muttered: "Он действительно так невинен или просто дразнит меня?" (Is he really this innocent or is he teasing me?)
"Russian again!" Sora said brightly. "You really do that a lot when you're flustered. It's kind of cool!"
"I am NOT flustered!" Alisa insisted, her face betraying her words by turning red.
"Sure, sure." Sora grinned, then started organizing his cleaning supplies. "Well, I should get started. Sensei said some couples have been using the bathroom for their... 'fun,' and I need to clean up after them."
Alisa's studying materials became suddenly very interesting to her. "I see."
"Yeah, Chiaki-senpai gave me this whole speech about it. Said 'good luck cleaning up after the couples' fun' and wished me luck." Sora scratched his head, genuinely confused. "What did he mean by that exactly? What kind of fun requires cleaning up in a bathroom?"
Alisa's head snapped up so fast Sora worried she'd hurt her neck.
"Wha— WHAT?!" Her face turned absolutely crimson. "You're asking me— I can't— That's—"
"Is it like a food fight? Do couples have food fights in bathrooms?" Sora's innocent confusion was somehow making it worse. "That would explain the mess, but seems like a weird place for it—"
"KURUMATANI!" Alisa's voice came out strangled. "You— You PERVERT!"
"What?!" Sora looked genuinely shocked. "I just asked a question! I don't understand what they were doing!"
"You— I— That's not—" Alisa couldn't form a coherent sentence. Her face was now the same shade as a tomato.
"Are you okay, Kujou-san? You look really red. Are you getting sick?"
"GET OUT!" Alisa pointed toward the door, her hand shaking.
"But I have to clean—"
"I'LL CLEAN IT! JUST GO!"
"Really? That's really nice of you, but I don't think student council members should—"
"GO!"
Sora, thoroughly confused by her reaction but not wanting to upset her further, gathered his things and backed toward the door.
"Okay, but if you need help—"
"OUT!"
As Sora left, thoroughly bewildered by what had just happened, Alisa collapsed onto the sink, her heart racing.
In Russian, she whispered: "Он действительно не знал... Он действительно невинен... Боже мой, что со мной происходит?!" (He really didn't know... He's really that innocent... Oh god, what's happening to me?!)
She looked at her reflection in the mirror—face flushed, eyes wide, completely flustered.
This is just... academic interest, she told herself firmly. I'm interested in his dedication to basketball. His leadership qualities. His work ethic. Nothing more.
Certainly not his stupid innocent smile. Or the way he genuinely sees the best in people. Or how he can be so clueless about some things but so perceptive about others.
She pulled out her phone and typed in Russian: "Kurumatani Sora is an idiot. A well-meaning, hard-working, impossibly earnest idiot. And I am NOT developing feelings for him. This is purely academic observation. PURELY. ACADEMIC."
She stared at the note for a long moment.
Then deleted it.
And buried her face in her hands.
In the hallway, Sora leaned against the wall, still utterly confused.
Girls are so weird, he thought. I just asked a simple question and she called me a pervert. How does that make sense?
He pulled out his phone to text Nao about tomorrow's training schedule.
He remained blissfully, innocently unaware of the storm of emotions he'd just triggered in the ice princess student council member.
And somehow, that made it even worse for Alisa.