The sound of squeaking shoes and the gymnasium crowd's energy filtered through the closed doors. Outside, in the cool evening air, a silver-haired girl stood uncertainly, clutching her coat around herself.
Alisa Mikhailovna Kujou had told herself she was just passing by. That she happened to be in the area. That checking on Sora's practice match was purely academic interest in whether her tutoring student would maintain his grades while playing basketball.
All lies.
She was here because she couldn't stay away.
She was about to enter when she heard voices—one older woman speaking to another.
"Sumi-san, are you sure this is safe? If the head nurse finds out—"
"We'll be quick, Yuka-san. Just a short walk, I promise."
Alisa turned to see a nurse pushing a wheelchair. In the wheelchair sat a woman who, despite obvious illness and fatigue, had eyes that sparkled with the same determination Alisa had seen countless times in Sora.
That must be his mother, Alisa realized, her breath catching.
The woman—Yuka—looked toward the gymnasium with such longing that Alisa felt her heart clench.
"I just wanted to be close," Yuka said softly. "Even if I can't see him play. Just to be near while he's doing what he loves."
Alisa found herself stepping forward before she could think. "Excuse me..."
Both women turned to look at her.
"Are you... are you Kurumatani-kun's mother?" Alisa asked, her usual perfect composure slipping slightly.
Yuka's eyes widened, then a knowing grin spread across her face—mischievous and warm, so similar to Sora's but with a maternal edge that made Alisa's heart skip.
"Oh my," Yuka said, her smile widening. "You must be Alisa-chan."
Alisa froze. "How... how do you know my name?"
"My mother-in-law—Sora's grandmother—is quite the photographer," Yuka said, and there was definite amusement in her voice now. "She sent me a very interesting picture the other day. From the night of that storm."
Alisa's face went from pale to crimson in an instant. "She... she didn't... we were just—"
"Sleeping in each other's arms?" Yuka finished, her grin absolutely teasing now. "Yes, dear. I saw. It was quite adorable."
"WE FELL ASLEEP BY ACCIDENT!" Alisa blurted out, mortified. "Nothing happened! We just— he called me a goddess and then immediately fell asleep and—"
She stopped, realizing she was making it worse.
Yuka laughed—a warm, delighted sound despite her obvious illness. "Come here, Alisa-chan. Sit with me for a moment."
She patted the space beside her wheelchair.
Alisa hesitated, then found herself sitting on the bench next to Yuka, drawn by something maternal and warm despite her absolute mortification.
"First things first," Yuka said, her eyes twinkling. "I'm not upset. Quite the opposite. My mother-in-law—Yone-san—called me that night, absolutely delighted. She said, and I quote, 'Yuka! Our boy finally brought home a girl! A beautiful one! They fell asleep cuddling! We're getting great-grandchildren!'"
"Oh my god," Alisa whispered, wanting to disappear into the ground.
"She also said you were lovely, intelligent, and clearly cared about Sora. And that my son called you a goddess in his sleep, which honestly sounds exactly like something he'd do."
Alisa covered her face with her hands. "This is so embarrassing."
"Don't be embarrassed," Yuka said gently, reaching out to lower Alisa's hands so she could see her face. "I'm grateful, actually. Grateful that my son has someone who looks at him the way Yone-san says you do."
Alisa's eyes widened. "The way I... what did she say?"
"That you watch him like he hung the moon. That you smile when he's not looking. That you speak in Russian when you're flustered around him." Yuka's expression softened. "And that you held him just as tightly as he held you that night."
Alisa felt tears prickling her eyes. "I... I didn't mean to..."
She took Alisa's hand, squeezing gently.
"Tell me, Alisa-chan. Is my son happy when he plays basketball? Does he enjoy it?"
The question was so earnest, so full of maternal concern, that Alisa couldn't help but answer honestly.
"Yes," she said quietly. "He's... he's happiest when he's playing. His face lights up. He becomes completely absorbed. I've never seen anyone love something the way Kurumatani-kun loves basketball."
Tears welled up in Yuka's eyes. "Good. That's... that's all I wanted to hear."
She reached into the small bag on her lap and pulled out a white wristband—simple, worn, clearly well-used.
"Alisa-chan, I have a favor to ask."
"Anything," Alisa said without thinking.
"Could you give this to Sora after the match? But please... tell him it came from you, not from me."
"Why—"
"He'll worry if he knows I came here," Yuka explained. "He'll think I pushed myself too hard, that I'm not resting properly. And he'd be right. But I wanted to be close, even if I couldn't watch."
Alisa took the wristband carefully, understanding flooding through her.
"I'll give it to him," she promised.
Yuka's teasing grin returned. "And Alisa-chan? About that date tomorrow that Yone-san mentioned—"
"You know about the date?!" Alisa's voice went up an octave.
"My mother-in-law is very thorough when she gossips," Yuka said with clear amusement. "She said you accepted his dinner invitation. That you'll be coming to the house as his date."
"It's just dinner! As... as friends!" Alisa protested weakly.
"Mmm-hmm. Friends who sleep in each other's arms. Friends who make promises to goddesses. Friends who come to watch each other's basketball games." Yuka's smile was knowing. "Alisa-chan, let me give you some motherly advice."
"Yes?" Alisa whispered.
"My son is wonderful, but he's also completely oblivious when it comes to matters of the heart. If you want him to understand how you feel, you're going to have to be very, very direct. Possibly write it in block letters. Maybe in multiple languages."
Despite herself, Alisa laughed. "I've noticed the obliviousness."
"That's my boy," Yuka said fondly. "But he has the best heart. The kindest soul. And—" she squeezed Alisa's hand, "—I think you're exactly the kind of person he needs. Someone smart, strong, who won't let him get away with being dense about feelings."
"I..." Alisa's voice was barely a whisper. "I care about him. More than I probably should."
"No such thing as caring too much," Yuka said firmly. Then her expression became more serious. "Alisa-chan, I need you to promise me something."
"What?"
"Take care of him for me. When I can't be there. Will you do that?"
The request hit Alisa like a physical weight. The implications behind it—that there might come a time when Yuka wouldn't be able to watch over her son at all.
"I will," Alisa said, her voice firm despite the tears in her eyes. "I promise. I'll take care of him."
"Good girl." Yuka released her hand, then reached up to cup Alisa's cheek gently—a maternal gesture that made Alisa's chest ache. "Welcome to the family, sweetheart. I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot more of you."
"Welcome to the—" Alisa's face turned absolutely scarlet. "We're not— I mean, we haven't—"
"Not yet," Yuka said with that teasing grin. "But Yone-san has already started planning the wedding. Fair warning."
"WEDDING?!"
Yuka laughed. "I'm teasing. Mostly. Now go watch him play. And tomorrow, when you have your date, make sure he treats you properly. If he doesn't, you have my permission to set him straight."
As Sumi began wheeling Yuka back toward the hospital, the mother called back one more time:
"Oh, and Alisa-chan? I approve! Wholeheartedly! And I can't wait to hear all about the date from Yone-san!"
Alisa stood frozen, her face absolutely scarlet, clutching the wristband to her chest.
In Russian, barely audible: "Она знает о той ночи. Бабушка сфотографировала нас. Боже мой. Я умру от смущения..." (She knows about that night. Grandmother photographed us. Oh my god. I'll die of embarrassment...)
But despite the mortification, she was smiling through her tears.
Because Sora's mother approved. Had welcomed her to the family. Had given her blessing.
And that meant more than Alisa could put into words.
------
Score: 88-82, Kuzuryu
Inside the Gymnasium
Alisa slipped through the doors just as Sora brought the ball up the court, still reeling from her conversation with Yuka. She found a spot in the back of the stands, her eyes immediately locking onto number 1.
His mother knows. She saw the picture. She approved. She welcomed me to the family.
The thoughts swirled in her mind, but they all faded when she watched Sora move.
Tarou tried to bring the ball up for Kitasumi, clearly intent on answering Sora's previous basket. But his movements were noticeably slower than before, his breathing heavier. Fatigue was setting in hard for their ace.
He called for isolation, waving his teammates to clear out.
Sora got into his defensive stance—low, balanced, hands active. Even from the stands, Alisa could see the difference in their energy levels. Sora looked fresh, eager. Tarou looked determined but exhausted.
Tarou attacked with a crossover, but it lacked the sharpness from earlier in the game. Sora stayed in front easily, his lateral quickness—that Miyagi-level speed—allowing him to slide with the move without breaking stride.
Frustrated, Tarou tried to use his size advantage, backing Sora down. But Sora dug in, not giving ground, his improved strength from training camp showing.
Finally, Tarou spun baseline and elevated for his signature stop-and-go shot. The form was still irregular, still difficult to time, but Sora's contest was right there.
CLANK.
The ball hit the front rim and bounced long.
Momoharu grabbed the rebound with both hands, his jumping ability on full display.
TWEET of the whistle as the referee signaled possession.
"OUTLET!" Momoharu shouted, immediately passing to Sora.
THUMP THUMP THUMP of the ball as Sora pushed the pace.
His speed in the open court was absolutely overwhelming. He crossed half-court before Kitasumi's defense could even think about setting up, the ball moving with him like it was attached by a string.
Two defenders scrambled back desperately, trying to prevent the easy basket.
Sora drove straight at them, no hesitation, drawing both defenders toward the ball like magnets to steel.
At the last possible second, he made a behind-the-back pass—so quick it was almost invisible—to Kenji trailing on the left wing.
SWISH as the ball cut through the air.
Kenji caught it in perfect rhythm, his shooting form already loaded.
SPLASH.
91-82, Kuzuryu.
"KENJI!" Sora pumped his fist as they sprinted back on defense.
Nine-point lead. Three minutes remaining.
In the stands, Alisa found herself leaning forward, her hands clasped together. That pass. That court vision. He saw everything before it happened.
Coach Koga called timeout, his expression serious.
"We're down nine with three minutes left," he told his exhausted team. "We need stops. HARD defense on Kurumatani. And Tarou—"
"I know, Coach," Tarou said, breathing heavily. "I need to score. I'm trying, but he's..."
"He's fresh and you're tired," Koga finished bluntly. "But you're our ace. Find a way."
Tarou nodded, but everyone could see the doubt in his eyes.
-----
Game Resumes
Kitasumi came out of the timeout with renewed defensive intensity. They immediately pressed full-court, trying to disrupt Kuzuryu's rhythm.
Two defenders swarmed Sora as he tried to receive the inbound pass.
But Sora's enhanced court vision from the Izuki integration saw the trap forming before it fully developed. He made a quick cut, received the pass from Nabe, then immediately attacked the press with his speed.
SQUEAK SQUEAK SQUEAK of his shoes as he split the double-team with a lightning-quick crossover.
One defender lunged and missed completely. The other tried to recover but Sora was already gone, his Miyagi-level speed leaving both defenders grasping at air.
He crossed half-court with the defense in scramble mode.
Konishi was the only one back, backpedaling desperately.
Sora drove straight at the bigger player, then performed a Euro step but incorporated a Himuro fake—a subtle pump fake mid-drive that made Konishi bite on the contest.
When Konishi's hands came down, Sora exploded past him to the rim.
He elevated with his elite jumping ability and finished with a reverse layup that kissed off the glass.
SPLASH.
93-82, Kuzuryu.
Eleven-point lead.
"SORA!" The entire Kuzuryu bench was on its feet.
Tarou brought the ball up, clearly exhausted but refusing to quit. His pride as an ace wouldn't let him give up.
He tried to isolate Sora again, but his first step wasn't as quick as before. The hesitation move that had frozen Sora earlier now barely made him shift his weight.
When Tarou pulled up for his signature stop-and-go shot, Sora's contest was right there—hand in his face, body close.
CLANK.
The ball bounced hard off the rim.
Momoharu grabbed the rebound, his timing perfect.
"PUSH!" Nao screamed from the bench.
THUMP THUMP THUMP as Sora took the outlet and attacked in transition.
Only one defender back this time. Sora crossed half-court at full speed, the defender backpedaling frantically.
Kenji was filling the left lane. Chiaki was trailing right.
The defender committed to Sora, trying to cut off the drive.
Sora used another Himuro fake—a subtle head turn and shoulder dip to the right. The defender's weight shifted.
Then Sora crossed left with devastating quickness and attacked the rim.
He elevated, and as the defender recovered to contest, Sora performed the Barrier Jumper—contorting his body mid-air, extending his shooting arm away from the block at an impossible angle.
The release came from a position that shouldn't have allowed for any accuracy, his body twisted like a pretzel.
SPLASH.
Nothing but net.
95-82, Kuzuryu.
Thirteen-point lead. Two minutes and fifteen seconds remaining.
The crowd was going absolutely wild.
Kitasumi called their final timeout.
Coach Koga looked at his exhausted team, particularly at Tarou, who was bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.
"It's over," Koga said quietly. "We gave it our best, but that first-year is special. Learn from this. Use it as motivation."
Tarou looked up, frustration and respect warring in his expression. "Coach—"
"You played well, Tarou. But sometimes you run into someone better on a given day. That's basketball."
Score: 95-82, Kuzuryu
Kitasumi came out trying to press again, but Sora broke it easily. His speed and ball-handling made the full-court pressure look futile.
He crossed half-court and immediately called for a pick-and-roll with Momoharu.
Momoharu set a solid screen at the top of the key. Kitasumi switched, putting their power forward—a slower, bigger player—on Sora.
Perfect, Sora thought.
He attacked the mismatch immediately with a series of moves—fake left, cross right, hesitation that froze the bigger defender.
When the defender's feet got tangled trying to keep up with Sora's quickness, Sora had a clear path to the rim.
But help was coming—Tarou rotating over from the weak side despite his exhaustion.
Sora saw it with his Eagle Eye. Instead of forcing a contested layup, he made a wraparound pass to Momoharu rolling to the basket.
Momoharu caught it and threw down a thunderous dunk.
BOOM as the ball hammered through the rim.
97-82, Kuzuryu.
Fifteen-point lead. One minute and forty-five seconds remaining.
Momoharu roared as he landed, the crowd's energy reaching a fever pitch.
Kitasumi managed to score on their next possession—Konishi getting a putback off an offensive rebound, using his size and positioning to grab the miss and score before Momoharu could react.
97-84, Kuzuryu.
But Sora was relentless.
He brought the ball up slowly, letting the clock run down to under ninety seconds. Then he attacked.
He ran another pick-and-roll, this time with Chiaki. When the defense switched, Sora had Konishi—their 196cm center—trying to guard him on the perimeter.
The mismatch was comical.
Sora attacked with pure speed, blowing past Konishi's slower feet in one explosive step. He drove into the paint, and when the help defense collapsed, he made a no-look pass to Kenji spotting up in the corner.
SWISH as the pass cut through traffic.
Kenji caught it and buried the three-pointer without hesitation.
SPLASH.
100-84, Kuzuryu.
Sixteen-point lead. One minute and twenty seconds remaining.
The Kuzuryu bench was going absolutely crazy. They'd reached 100 points against a veteran team.
In the stands, Alisa was on her feet, her usual composed demeanor completely abandoned. She was clapping, a huge smile on her face..
Tarou, despite his exhaustion and the clear outcome, refused to give up. He brought the ball up and immediately pulled up for a three-pointer from deep—way beyond the arc, a desperation shot with Sora's hand in his face.
SWISH.
100-87, Kuzuryu.
"Still fighting!" Tarou shouted, pumping his fist. Pride wouldn't let him quit.
One minute remaining.
Sora brought the ball up, and Kitasumi immediately fouled him—the only way to stop the clock.
WHISTLE.
Sora stepped to the free-throw line with fifty-eight seconds remaining.
He took a deep breath, his shooting form textbook perfect.
SWISH.
101-87, Kuzuryu.
Second free throw.
SWISH.
102-87, Kuzuryu.
Fifteen-point lead. Under a minute to go.
Kitasumi scored quickly—a fast layup by Katori off a broken play.
102-89, Kuzuryu.
Forty-three seconds remaining.
Sora brought the ball up, and this time he didn't run any set. He simply attacked.
He made a Himuro fake to the right—selling it completely with his body language. His defender bit hard.
Sora crossed back left with devastating quickness and pulled up from 26 feet—well beyond the three-point line.
The shot was pure confidence. Pure Hyūga mentality. If you can make it in practice a thousand times, you can make it in the game.
The ball arced high, rotating perfectly, and dropped through without touching the rim.
SPLASH.
105-89, Kuzuryu.
The crowd absolutely erupted.
Even Coach Koga was applauding from the Kitasumi bench. That range. That confidence. That's an elite shooter.
Thirty seconds remaining.
Tarou hit one more three-pointer in garbage time—a deep shot that was more about pride than changing the outcome.
SWISH.
105-92, Kuzuryu.
Sora dribbled out the clock, and when the final buzzer sounded—
BZZZZZZZZZT
—the scoreboard read:
FINAL SCORE: Kuzuryu High 105, Kitasumi High 92
THIRTEEN-POINT VICTORY.
-----
The gymnasium exploded with noise.
Kuzuryu's bench stormed the court, mobbing Sora and the starters.
"WE WON!" Yasuhara was crying actual tears. "WE BEAT THEM BY THIRTEEN!"
"SORA WAS A MONSTER!" Nabe was screaming, jumping up and down.
"FIFTY-ONE POINTS!" Chucky yelled. "FIFTY-ONE!"
Sora stood in the middle of the celebration, breathing hard, his jersey soaked with sweat. He looked up at the scoreboard—105-92—and smiled.
We did it. We really did it. Mom... I hope you're watching.
His hand unconsciously touched the wristband on his wrist.
Tarou walked over, extending his hand despite the loss and exhaustion.
"You're the real deal, shorty," he said, genuine respect in his voice. "I gave everything I had, and you still outplayed me. That's on me."
Sora shook his hand firmly. "You were incredible too, Kabachi-san! That stop-and-go shot is amazing! And you never stopped fighting! Let's play again!"
"Count on it. And next time—" Tarou's competitive grin returned, "—I'm winning. I promise you that."
"I'll be waiting!"
Konishi approached Momoharu, who was catching his breath.
"Sempai," Konishi said quietly. "I'm glad you came back to basketball. And I'm glad I got to play against you at your best. That rebound... that jumping ability... I'd forgotten how high you could fly."
Momoharu smiled, exhausted but happy. "Me too, Konishi. And hey—keep working hard. You're going to be a great player."
"Because you showed me how," Konishi said. "Thank you, sempai."
As both teams lined up to bow and thank each other for the match, Sora's eyes drifted to the stands—
And locked onto a pair of sapphire blue eyes.
Alisa was standing there, tears streaming down her face, clapping with genuine emotion.
Their eyes met.
Sora's face turned bright red, but he smiled—that bright, genuine smile that made Alisa's heart skip.
Alisa smiled back, not bothering to hide her tears or her feelings in this moment.
In Russian, whispered: "Ты мой герой. Полностью и совершенно мой." (You're my hero. Completely and utterly mine.)
FINAL STATISTICS:
Kuzuryu High (105)
Sora Kurumatani: 51 points , 13 assists, 5 steals, 2 rebounds
Kenji Natsume: 44 points , 6 rebounds, 3 assists
Kitasumi High (92)
Tarou Kabachi: 45 points , 5 assists, 3 rebounds
Konishi Manabu: 26 points, 14 rebounds, 2 blocks
-----
Sora sat on the bench, finally changed out of his uniform, when there was a knock on the door.
"Kurumatani? Someone's waiting for you outside," Yasuhara called with a knowing grin.
Sora's heart leaped. He grabbed his bag and headed out.
Alisa stood in the hallway, composed again but with red-rimmed eyes that betrayed her earlier tears.
"Alisa-san," Sora said, surprised and delighted. "You stayed?"
"I wanted to give you this properly," she said, pulling out the wristband. "I got you something. For good luck. For Inter-High."
Sora took it carefully, examining it. Something in his chest tightened—it felt familiar somehow, important, like something precious.
"Thank you, Alisa-san," he said softly, slipping it onto his wrist alongside his game wristbands. "I'll wear it for every game. I promise."
"Good." She smiled. "You were... you were incredible today. Fifty-one points. Twelve assists. You completely dominated."
"You counted my stats?" Sora's face lit up.
"I... I was paying attention, I saw the stat sheet" Alisa admitted, her face turning slightly pink.
"Thank you for coming. It means a lot that you were watching."
"Of course I came, you idiot," Alisa said fondly. "Now, about our date tomorrow. Don't be late. Your mother would be very disappointed."
Sora blinked. "You really met my mom?"
"I did. She's wonderful. And she gave me very specific instructions about tomorrow." Alisa's smile was soft. "She also told me to take care of you."
"She did?" Sora's voice was quiet.
"She did. And I promised her I would."
They stood there for a moment, the weight of that promise hanging between them.
"Alisa-san," Sora said quietly. "Thank you. For everything. For tutoring me, for coming to watch, for... for caring."
"Of course I care, you idiot," Alisa said, reaching out to adjust his collar—a gesture so naturally intimate that both of them froze when they realized what she'd done.
She pulled her hand back quickly. "I should go. You need to rest. Big date tomorrow, remember?"
"I'll be ready! I promise!"
Sora watched her go, his heart racing faster than it had during the entire game.
Tomorrow. Date with Alisa. I absolutely cannot mess this up.