The rhythmic echo of bouncing basketballs filled the gym like a heartbeat.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sound was clean, precise, evenly spaced no chaos, no wasted motion.
At Easton Technical High, even the echoes had order.
The morning light filtered through the tall windows, painting the polished hardwood in amber hues. Banners hung from the rafters district titles, regional runner-ups, and a large one in the center that read:
"Discipline Creates Dominance."
Each player moved with crisp precision. No unnecessary flash, no talking. Every drill looked like a piece of choreography five bodies flowing in unison, five minds sharing a single rhythm.
At the sideline, their coach stood with arms folded, posture calm and voice steady.
"Again," said Rin Hazama, eyes sharp but serene. "Synchronize your breathing with your motion. The moment one of you exhales at the wrong time… the rhythm dies."
The players obeyed instantly.
The Coach's Philosophy
