Even in the evening, the steady rhythm of a basketball bouncing echoed through the nearly empty gym.
The faint squeak of rubber soles against the polished hardwood floor reached Shino's ears as he opened the door.
The gym lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a pale, sterile glow across the court. Shino's nose caught the familiar, sharp tang of sweat and varnished wood.
As he stepped inside, his eyes widened in surprise.
Yukio was still on the court, drenched in sweat, shirt clinging to his body from hours of intense practice.
Yukio launched the ball into a jump shot from just inside the arc. The ball rotated in the air before slicing cleanly through the hoop with a swish.
After the shot, Yukio staggered slightly, dropping his hands to his knees. His chest rose and fell quickly, breaths loud and labored. He dragged the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, revealing a sheen of sweat across his torso.
Whoa, he's amazing! He's been training since morning—that's crazy! He's so dedicated, Shino thought to himself, standing still for a moment to take in the sight.
"I see that you're finally here. Go get ready," Yukio called, his voice slightly hoarse from exertion.
"I will, right away!" Shino answered and hurried off.
His shoes slapped lightly against the wooden floor as he headed to the locker room.
He opened his locker with a metallic creak, the cold steel touching his fingertips. The slight rust smell from the hinges mingled with the sweat-soaked clothes left behind by others.
After changing into his gear, he returned, tightening his laces with trembling fingers.
"Okay, now that you're ready, I want to ask you something. Do you have any experience playing basketball?" Yukio asked, tossing the ball lightly from hand to hand.
"Um... I've never played a basketball match before," Shino admitted, voice small.
"I played a little in middle school and junior high, but I never got the chance to play in an actual match against another school. I didn't even get a jersey when match time came around."
"Huh, so you have no experience? Not even the basics?" Yukio asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Well... no. I'm practically a novice to the sport."
Yukio crossed his arms and said nothing.
The silence between them stretched. A faint buzzing filled Shino's ears—not from the lights, but from a memory.
The gym around him blurred. The air turned cold.
In his mind, he was back in his junior high gym, sitting on the hard wooden bench that pressed against his spine. The lights above flickered and hummed. The polished floor gleamed, untouched by his footsteps.
Shino stared down at his sneakers, retying his laces over and over again. His fingers were numb with nervousness.
Laughter filled the space around him—shouts of joy, shoes thudding against the floor, the thump of basketballs hitting backboards.
He wasn't part of it.
"Hey, beansprout!" one of the starters called out, his tone sharp.
Shino looked up slowly. "Go get us drinks from the vending machine."
"But… practice is still going," Shino said, barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, and?" the boy said with a smirk. "You're not in the lineup anyway. Be useful for something."
A few others chuckled. "At least the water boy gets to wear the jersey. You don't even have that."
Shino stood. The floor beneath him felt rough, despite being polished. His shoes made soft scraping sounds as he walked toward the hallway, head bowed low.
As the gym doors swung closed behind him, the cold air outside made his skin prickle.
They're right... I'm not needed. Not really. They only remember me when they want something.
Later, during a scrimmage, the coach called out, "Katsuragi—"
Shino's heart skipped a beat.
"—go fetch the clipboard from my office," the coach said without looking up.
Shino's hands dropped to his sides.
The sound of cheering echoed in the background, but it felt far away.
Back in the present, Yukio's expression stayed firm.
The tournament is in six months. Will I be able to train him to at least be average in time? I mean, it's not like I have much of a choice—Takahiro and I are the only members.
"I know what you're thinking," Shino said suddenly. His voice cracked.
"You're thinking that I'll be a burden to the team. However, I love basketball, so I'll work hard to meet your expectations! I know I don't have any talent for the sport, but please help me develop!"
Tears welled up in his eyes, stinging slightly as they slipped down his cheeks.
"Okay, okay, I understand! No need to get all emotional on me—wipe your tears," Yukio said, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.
Shino sniffled, his nose slightly runny, and wiped his face on his sleeve. "Yes, upperclassman!" he said, louder and firmer this time.
"I want you to do some defensive slides, so watch carefully," Yukio instructed.
The air around them had cooled, and the sound of sneakers squeaking returned as Yukio demonstrated.
"The key to good defense is maintaining a low stance and staying balanced. You have to bend your legs in a squat position, keeping your back straight and your chest up. This gives you a strong center of gravity and allows you to move quickly without losing balance."
Yukio dropped into stance. His knees bent just above ninety degrees, feet shoulder-width apart. The veins in his legs were slightly visible. His breath was calm but deep as he focused.
"Stay on the balls of your feet—never flat-footed," Yukio continued. "And when you move side to side, don't cross your feet. Push off with your back foot, and slide with short, controlled steps. Like this."
His shoes made soft shuffling noises as he moved.
Shino mirrored him, lowering himself into position. His thighs trembled a little from unfamiliar strain.
"Good," Yukio nodded. "Now, your hands are just as important as your footwork. Keep one hand low and the other up. The low hand is to anticipate steals and deflections, while the high hand is to contest shots and disrupt passing lanes."
He demonstrated again, his left hand down and right hand raised, fingers spread wide.
"If you keep your hands too low, the opponent will have an easy time shooting over you. Too high, and they'll drive past. Be smart—read the situation."
Shino did his best to copy. His shoulders ached already, but he kept them up.
"Also, always watch the torso, not the ball. A lot of new players watch the ball, but skilled players will fake you out. No matter what they do with their limbs, their torso won't lie. Watch the chest and hips."
Shino blinked in understanding. "That makes a lot of sense! I always thought you were supposed to watch the ball."
"Yeah, a lot of beginners think that," Yukio said, slightly amused. "Now, another key to good defense is anticipation. Defense isn't just reacting—it's predicting. Notice habits. Which hand do they favor? Do they always go left? Do they slow down before cutting? Pick up on those cues."
Shino nodded, sweat now beading at his temples.
"And finally," Yukio added, "never reach in recklessly. Most players get into foul trouble because of that. Your job is to stay in front of your man. Pressure them. Make every movement hard. Over time, they'll break."
Shino clenched his fists.
"I get it now! So, stay low, move side to side without crossing my feet, keep my hands active but controlled, watch their torso, anticipate their moves, and don't reach unless I see a real opening!"
Yukio gave a short laugh. "You're a fast learner."
"No, it's just that… you're the first person to ever spend time helping me learn," Shino admitted, his voice quiet.
"Oh, that's too bad. I think you'd be a great player if you got the proper coaching," Yukio replied.
"You really think so?" Shino asked, touched.
"Of course. You'll get there one day."
"Okay, so now that you've got the gist of it, I want you to guard me."
"Huh?! Bu-but I just started!" Shino stammered.
"Just remember what I showed you, and you'll be fine."
"Okay… I'll give it a try."
"Are you ready to guard me?"
Shino took a deep breath.
The air is thick with humidity. Just stay calm and remember what he said… anticipate his movements.
Yukio began dribbling. The sound echoed crisply.
"Here I come," he said.
He crossed the ball between his legs and lunged forward.
"I won't let you pass!" Shino shouted, moving fast and cutting Yukio off.
Yukio raised his eyebrows. "Not bad. However, let's see how you handle this."
He faked a shot. Shino reacted instinctively and jumped.
His feet left the ground—but then his heart sank.
"What?! A fake?!" he gasped.
Yukio stepped around him and went up for the layup. The ball tapped against the backboard and fell clean through the net.
"Not bad. It's your first time playing, but you anticipated my moves and almost stopped me. However, there's always room for improvement. It's only your first day, after all," Yukio said.
"That was only two minutes! How can we be done already?" Shino said, panting slightly.
"Well, you see, I've been training since this morning, and my body is aching," Yukio replied, his knees wobbling.
Oh yeah, that's right… he's been on the court for a long time, Shino thought, eyes widening in realization.
"I want you to research more about basketball when you get home. Apart from training, you should learn the basic rules of the game," Yukio added, walking over to grab his towel and water bottle.
He took a long drink, water dribbling slightly down his chin.
Shino nodded. "Got it."
After mopping up sweat and packing their gear, the two left the gym.
The night air outside was cool and still.
The apartment was still.
A faint sound broke the silence—three soft knocks against the door.
From within the quiet, Usagi's voice came through the door, gentle and careful.
"Big brother, are you awake?"
Tetsuo lifted his head from the papers scattered across his desk.
The lamp's dim light barely reached half the room, leaving the rest swallowed in shadow.
"Yes," he answered.
A pause followed. Then her voice came again, quieter this time.
"I'm coming in."
The door slid open with a low creak, a narrow band of light spilling from the hallway before fading as she shut it.
The room settled back into stillness, carrying only the faint scent of paper and ink.
Her voice carried softly through the room.
"If you don't mind… can I sleep with you tonight?"
The chair gave a soft scrape as Tetsuo turned slightly, eyes shifting toward her for a moment before returning to the desk.
"Fine. I still have some work for tomorrow. You can sleep first."
Usagi nodded and placed her pillow near the bed's edge.
The mattress gave a small creak beneath her weight.
The sound of the sheets rustling was the only thing that filled the quiet.
"There was a time you used to tell me stories when I couldn't sleep," she murmured. "Feels like forever ago."
Tetsuo gave a faint nod. "Yeah. Feels like it was just yesterday."
She smiled faintly, her eyes half-lidded.
"You've always protected me, you know? Even now… with everything that's happened. You'd still risk your life just to keep me safe."
Her voice softened to a whisper. "That's what I love about you, Tetsuo. You're the kind of big brother every girl wants."
Her words slowed, drifting into the rhythm of drowsiness.
"So… don't ever leave me, okay?"
Within moments, her breathing steadied into sleep.
Tetsuo stayed silent, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders.
Then he stood and quietly walked over, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
A few strands of her hair fell across her forehead.
He brushed them aside with the back of his hand.
He looked at her, his expression unreadable.
You're the only reason I can still stand in this world. Everything else ended for me long ago. What happens to me doesn't matter. As long as you're safe, that's enough.
He turned back to his desk, flipping open his notebook.
"Gym class first thing tomorrow," he muttered. "Guess I should get my gear ready."
As he reached for his bag, his elbow struck the picture frame sitting by the lamp.
The soft clink of glass echoed as it fell to the floor.
He crouched down and picked it up carefully.
The photo inside showed four people—his father, his mother, himself, and Usagi.
His father's hand rested gently on his mother's shoulder. Usagi stood in front, smiling brightly, a small ribbon in her hair.
Tetsuo stood beside her, one hand resting lightly on her head.
The photo's edges were worn and slightly bent.
His gaze stayed on the picture.
The smell of the hospital returned to him.
The scent of antiseptic filled the air. White walls stretched endlessly under the bright glow of hospital lights.
A boy, around ten years old, ran barefoot down the corridor. The back of his hospital gown moved with each step.
His hand held tightly onto that of a small girl, about six, dressed in ordinary clothes with a ribbon that had come loose in her hair.
"Big brother, where are we going?"
Her breathing came uneven as she tried to match his pace.
"Somewhere safe. A place where no one can take you away."
She looked up at him, her steps slowing for a moment.
"Do you… want me to stay with you?"
He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting hers.
"Do you want to stay with me?"
She nodded right away. "Yes. Forever."
He gave a small nod in return. "Then forever."
They started running again.
The emergency doors opened with a heavy sound, and cold night air entered the hallway.
Outside, the ground shone with rain. Their feet struck the wet pavement as they ran—away from the building, away from the lights that had already taken too much.
Two children, still holding hands, disappeared into the faint light of the city.
The sound of rain faded from memory.
Tetsuo blinked, his focus returning to the quiet room.
He set the photo back on the desk and wiped a small trace of dust from the glass.
His reflection looked back at him—older, expressionless, far from the boy who once smiled in the picture.
His voice came out low.
"I hope you're doing well… Mom, Dad."
The lamp's light caught the photo again.
The family of four smiled back at him from a world long gone.
Tetsuo straightened the frame, then turned his gaze toward the window.
Through the curtains, a pale shaft of moonlight slipped into the room, painting the desk in silver.
Usagi stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something he couldn't hear.
Her fingers clutched the edge of the blanket, the same way she used to hold his hand when she was little.
Tetsuo watched her for a moment longer.
I'll protect her, no matter what happens. That's the only promise I'll never break.
He turned off the desk lamp, leaving only the moonlight to fill the room.
The photograph glinted once before fading into the dark.
The night stayed still, and so did he.