"Alright, let's start the game."
Coach Yamaoka lifted the whistle to her lips, the sharp sound cutting through the air.
"I'll be the referee for this match, that alright, senpai?" Her tone carried a trace of challenge beneath the polite phrasing.
Coach Maeda gave a short nod, arms loosely crossed. "No problem. Go ahead."
Haruko glanced around at her teammates taking their positions.
So the starting lineup is me, Kotone, Suzume, Sayaka, and Kazue.
Her palms felt slightly damp against her shorts.
Let's do this. Her heartbeat felt quicker than usual.
The whistle blew, clear and sharp.
Coach Yamaoka tossed the ball upward at the center circle.
Kotone leaped at the exact moment, her hand striking the ball cleanly above her opponent's reach.
Suzume caught it mid-air and landed lightly, turning on her heel to move forward—only to find Chizuru already there, stance firm, knees bent, eyes locked on her with quiet focus.
Suzume signaled with a quick motion, and Kotone stepped in to set the screen.
Keeping her dribble tight, Suzume slipped around it and passed sharply to Kazue, who was already moving toward the basket with Tatsuki close on her.
Kazue stepped in and went up for the layup.
The ball hit the backboard and dropped cleanly through the net—but as she landed, she caught sight of Tatsuki's elbow brushing dangerously close to her side.
Her brows drew together. "Watch where you're throwing your elbows. That could've hit me."
Tatsuki raised both hands, expression innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Kazue clicked her tongue softly, irritation flashing in her eyes before she jogged back on defense.
"Nice one, Kazue." Sayaka's voice came steady from across the court, trying to keep the rhythm of the team's mood.
As the teams transitioned, one of Misono's players brought the ball up the court.
Tatsuki stepped in, setting a strong screen to free Chizuru on the right wing.
The solid impact sent Suzume stumbling back a half-step, a brief wince crossing her face as she struggled to recover.
The pass came cleanly to Chizuru.
She moved just outside the arc, rose in one smooth motion, and released the ball with a light flick of her wrist.
It dropped through the net, barely grazing the rim.
"Nice shot, Chizuru." Tatsuki grinned, giving her a sharp slap of the palm.
"Thanks for the screen, Tatsuki. That really helped." Chizuru's voice stayed calm, her breathing steady as she turned back toward defense.
That girl... She's playing dirty.
Kazue's jaw tightened as the thought crossed her mind, her fingers curling into a fist at her side.
"A three right from the start… she's good. But we're not as weak as last year," Sayaka murmured, her voice low as her eyes shifted toward Haruko, drawing a quiet steadiness from her presence.
On the next play, Suzume pushed the ball up the court, raising her hand for a double screen.
Kazue and Sayaka moved into position, cutting off Chizuru on both sides as Suzume slipped past them.
This is a surprise… I didn't expect Hachioji to be this organized, Chizuru thought, watching closely.
Kotone stepped in, setting a firm screen that freed Haruko on the wing.
Suzume reached the free-throw line and passed sharply. The ball hit Haruko's hands in rhythm at the top of the arc.
Remember how he shot it—steady, smooth. Just like he showed you, Haruko told herself, breathing out slowly.
She bent her knees, flicked her wrist, and released.
The ball floated cleanly, Tatsuki's hand rising a moment too late.
It fell through the net with a soft snap.
When Haruko landed, a jolt ran through her foot—Tatsuki's shoe had pressed down on her toes.
Haruko winced, drawing back slightly.
Tatsuki's hand lifted in mock apology, her smile faint. "Oops. That was a nice shot, though."
Haruko brushed past her without a glance, jogging back on defense, focus unbroken.
Tatsuki's smile faltered, a faint scowl tugging at her lips as her gaze fixed on Haruko.
Who does she think she is?
The thought lingered, sharp and restless, as she turned away and adjusted her stance for the next play.
"Nice shot, Haruko!" Sayaka wrapped her arms around her, voice bright with relief.
"Yeah, great work." Kotone lifted her hand, and Haruko met it with a quick clap.
"Yes…" Haruko's reply came quiet, her toes curling slightly inside her shoes—the sting from earlier still lingering.
Kazue stepped closer, lowering her voice so only Haruko could hear.
"Listen, that girl in number twelve—watch her. She's sneaky, making contact under the play."
"I noticed," Haruko replied, her tone steady but low.
"Don't force it. Stay sharp and don't get hurt."
"Well, what do you know… they're better than I expected."
Chizuru's smile deepened slightly, her eyes following Haruko with quiet interest.
From the sideline, Coach Yamaoka rested the whistle against her palm, voice low but clear.
"Hmm… not bad, Maeda. Your girls are sharper than I thought."
Coach Maeda crossed her arms lightly, a calm smile on her face as she watched the court.
"That's it, girls. Keep showing them what we've practiced."
Back on Hachioji's bench, the first-years leaned forward, eyes wide and fixed on the court.
"Did you see that three…?" one whispered, her gaze still following Chizuru.
"Yeah, but… that girl from Misono is really good too," another replied under her breath.
"H-how are we supposed to guard her?" a third muttered, fingers tugging anxiously at the hem of her jersey.
A quiet voice came from behind them. A second-year leaned in, tone steady but soft.
"Yuna, focus on the plays and calm down. Have faith in your captain. We're all in this together."
On the court, Tatsuki slipped past Kazue with a quick step, finishing a layup off the glass.
Before Misono could reset, Suzume called for a pick.
Kotone moved into position, set her screen cleanly, and rolled to the basket.
The return pass came sharp, and she laid it in with practiced ease.
The rhythm of the game quickened, the sound of shoes and the ball echoing across the polished floor.
On the next play, Chizuru moved fluidly, dribbling the ball down the court where Suzume met her, arms wide and knees bent.
Reading her defender's stance, Chizuru stopped suddenly and launched another three-pointer.
Suzume reached out to contest, but she was a moment too late.
The ball struck the backboard, then dropped cleanly through the net with a crisp swish.
The gym buzzed with quiet gasps.
Suzume tried to dribble past Chizuru, but Chizuru stayed in front of her, matching each move step by step.
Kotone sensed Suzume's loss of rhythm and moved in to set a firm screen.
Suzume used the opening, dribbled into space, and rose for a jump shot.
The ball left her fingers, but Chizuru was already in the air.
Her palm struck the ball sharply, the sound echoing through the gym.
She caught the loose ball, pushed forward with quick dribbles, and drove straight to the basket, finishing with a clean layup off the glass.
As Kotone and Suzume moved to their baseline for the inbound, Kotone let out a quiet chuckle.
Suzume glanced at her, eyes half-lidded. "What's so funny?" Her tone was flat, her face unreadable.
"It's nothing," Kotone replied, a small smirk forming as she picked up the ball.
"When Chizuru stole it just now, it reminded me of that time in training when Kazue took it from you."
Suzume's gaze hardened slightly, but Kotone continued, passing the ball in.
"I didn't expect you, of all people, to be nervous. Relax a little."
Suzume caught the ball and started dribbling up the court without a word.
"Hey, that's mean," Kotone called after her, a small laugh slipping out.
That player is really getting on my nerves, Suzume thought as she fixed her eyes on Chizuru across the court.
As Suzume brought the ball up again, both Chizuru and Tatsuki stepped forward, closing in fast.
Suzume tightened her grip and turned her body to shield the ball, her breathing growing unsteady.
The court seemed to narrow around her.
From somewhere behind, Kazue's voice broke through faintly.
"Suzume, I'm open!"
But Suzume couldn't respond—her focus slipped, overwhelmed by pressure.
In that instant, Chizuru's hand darted in.
A sharp tap, a quick shift of her feet, and the ball was gone.
Suzume blinked, realizing too late.
She turned to chase but collided with Tatsuki's back, losing balance and falling hard.
Her left palm pressed against the floor as she pushed herself halfway up.
Tatsuki looked down at her, her tone polite but laced with warning.
"Better watch where you're going. You might hurt yourself. And don't get in Chizuru's way, alright?"
Tatsuki turned and jogged toward the opposing basket, her movements light and steady.
Kazue pushed off hard from the floor, the sound of her sneakers echoing as she raced back toward the paint, every step sharp and deliberate—intent on cutting off the fast break.
Chizuru crossed to her left.
Kazue stepped in to intercept, but Chizuru spun sharply, slipping past her.
Kazue jumped to contest as Chizuru rose for the shot, her palm brushing against Chizuru's hand.
A sharp whistle cut through the noise.
The ball struck the backboard and dropped cleanly through the net.
"Foul, orange number five. Basket counts—one free throw."
Yamaoka's voice carried clearly across the court.
Tatsuki's voice carried from near the three-point line, a smile tugging at her lips.
"Nice shot, Chizuru."
Chizuru brushed her bangs aside, the faint sheen of sweat catching the light.
"I told you, didn't I? Hachioji Academy is nothing compared to us."
Her voice was steady, her lips curving into a tight, confident smile.
Kazue flexed her fingers once, the sting from the foul still lingering in her palm.
She drew in a quiet breath through her nose, steadying the heat in her chest.
Now's not the time. Calm down, she told herself, eyes narrowing toward Chizuru.
As the players lined up for the free throw, Haruko felt her chest tighten.
The air in the gym seemed heavier, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor fading into a low hum.
She turned slightly away from the group, blinking hard.
Relax. You can't lead from a place of panic, she reminded herself, pressing her fingertips together.
A memory surfaced—Tetsuo standing before her, a basketball resting casually in one hand.
"You can't rush your shot or your thoughts. When you feel the pace shift, breathe. Own the space around you. Then act."
Her breath steadied. She faced forward again, the tension in her shoulders easing as the sound of the ball being passed back to Chizuru reached her ears.
"Haruko, Sayaka."
Coach Maeda's voice cut through the court noise as she gestured them over from the sideline.
The two jogged across the floor, sneakers squeaking against the polished surface.
Maeda leaned closer, her eyes steady.
"That number twelve keeps making sneaky contact. Watch yourselves."
Haruko nodded, wiping a bit of sweat from her temple.
"I know. I'm trying not to fall for it."
Maeda's gaze softened slightly.
"I'll deal with it after the quarter, so don't let it throw you off. And Haruko—don't let their number four shake you. I've seen your form in practice. You're every bit as good as she is."
Haruko blinked, caught off guard. "Coach…"
Maeda gave a small nod.
"Stick tighter screens. Force the ball into the corners for Kazue or Kotone in the post.
Sayaka, hedge on the wing when they run that flare.
Haruko—set the pace. This is your team. Let them move with you. Understood?"
"Yes, Coach!"
The two girls bowed their heads briefly before jogging back to their positions as the referee signaled for play to resume.
Haruko drew in a deep breath, steadying her nerves before calling out, her voice firm and clear.
"Let's fight hard, everyone!"
Sayaka gave a short nod, her expression calm but focused. "Let's do our best."
The rest of the team responded with small motions—a clap, a nod, the sound of sneakers shifting on the floor—as they took their positions once more.
On the sideline, the first-years sat quietly, eyes fixed on the court. Their earlier tension began to fade; backs straightened, shoulders lifted. The sound of the ball bouncing against the hardwood echoed softly in the air.
At the free-throw line, Chizuru steadied her breath, dribbled once, and released the ball. It struck the back of the rim, then dropped cleanly through, pushing Misono's lead to six.