The gym buzzed with murmurs as both teams readied themselves for the final quarter. Sneakers squeaked across the polished floor, and the air carried the sharp scent of sweat and tension.
Above them, the scoreboard's red digits glowed harshly: Hachioji Academy – 39, Misono Girls – 31.
"I can't believe it. Hachioji Academy is much stronger than we expected."
Her teammate leaned forward slightly, voice low and strained, eyes fixed on the Hachioji players across the court.
"That girl wearing number four really did outperform Chizuru. I don't want to say it, but she's even better."
Another teammate's shoulders stiffened as she spoke, fingers tightening around the towel in her lap.
Tatsuki's hand clenched against her knee. Her head turned sharply toward them, eyes hard.
"Don't you dare talk down on Chizuru like that. No one is better than her. You hear me?"
Her voice cut through the bench's low chatter, sharp enough to make the girls flinch. Both looked down quickly, their hands folding over their towels.
Tatsuki kept her gaze on them for a breath, then turned back toward the court, her jaw tight.
Tatsuki's eyes narrowed, the noise of the gym fading for a moment as a memory surfaced.
During the break after the second quarter, Coach Yamaoka had pulled her aside, voice low but firm.
"Coach Maeda told me about your foul plays. I will ask you to stop. If I catch you doing it again in a game, I will remove you from play."
The words echoed faintly in her mind as she stared toward the court. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her shorts.
That coach… she really thinks that will stop me. I'll find a way to make that girl pay for making Chizuru look bad.
Coach Yamaoka stood in front of the bench, arms folded, eyes steady on Haruko. The sharp scent of sweat hung in the air, and the faint echo of a bouncing ball reached her ears.
I never imagined Hachioji would become this strong. What surprises me most is that girl. She's an all-around player—and a real leader.
She excels at defense, passing—and even her ball control is beyond the level of a junior high school player. On top of that, her shooting might be better than Chizuru's. I can't be sure we can win this game.
Her steps carried her toward Chizuru, the firmness in her eyes unchanged.
The bench straightened, a quiet rustle of uniforms and shifting feet moving through the line.
Coach Yamaoka stood firm, her eyes sweeping over the team before resting on Chizuru. Her voice came steady, carrying enough force to cut through the noise of the gym.
"Chizuru, keep your head up. I misjudged Hachioji, and that's why we're behind. But from here on, I'm giving you full control of the game. Play as you see fit, even if it means being selfish. Everyone else, make sure the ball reaches Chizuru and clear space for her each time. If you find an open position, you may shoot."
Yamaoka's gaze shifted to Tatsuki. Her arms remained folded, tone firm but measured.
"As for that girl wearing number four—Tatsuki, I want you and Chizuru to mark her together."
"Yes, Coach!" Tatsuki and the others answered, voices sharp in unison.
Chizuru pulled her jersey up, wiping the sweat from her face. As she lowered it, her eyes lifted toward Yamaoka, steady and bright with resolve.
"Coach, may I guard her alone? I want to stop her with my own strength. We will not lose—please trust me."
Yamaoka kept her eyes on Chizuru for a brief moment, the noise of the court falling away. After a slow breath, she gave a single nod.
"I see. If that's what you want, then do as you wish. But if you lose, you'll take full responsibility."
Chizuru's back straightened. She lowered her head in a short bow, her voice steady.
"I understand. Thank you, Coach."
Her steps quickened as she moved toward the court, the sound of her shoes striking the floor in short, rhythmic beats.
Across the floor, the Hachioji girls sat catching their breath. Sweat traced lines down their necks as they leaned forward, arms resting on their knees, water bottles cool in their hands.
At the end of the first quarter, the score had been eleven to sixteen. By the second, they trailed by one—twenty-four to twenty-five. Then in the third, they had pulled ahead, thirty-nine to thirty-one.
Coach Maeda stood near the sideline, eyes following her players as they caught their breath and adjusted their positions. A faint smile touched her lips.
Haruko might not realize it, but she's the one who turned this game around.
"Listen up! Get the ball to me, everyone. I'll score so we can finish this as victors."
Haruko pushed herself to her feet, her expression set with determination. The fabric of her jersey clung to her back, damp with sweat, yet her voice came out clear and steady.
Kazue glanced sideways at her captain, a small smile forming as she watched Haruko's composure.
Haruko has really changed overnight, she thought.
Yamaoka blew the whistle. The sound echoed across the gym as the players moved into position. The final quarter had begun.
Suzume bounced the ball once and passed it in to Haruko.
Chizuru was quick to step up, the sharp squeak of her shoes cutting through the noise. She raised her arms and bent her knees slightly, eyes fixed on Haruko's movement.
Haruko lifted her arms as if to shoot. Chizuru reacted instantly, her body rising in defense—but it was a feint.
In that single hesitation, Haruko pushed off the floor, her footsteps heavy against the court as she slipped past Chizuru. One more step forward, and she rose for a mid-range jumper.
The ball left her fingertips in a clean arc. A soft swish followed—nothing but net.
Misono reacted right away. One of Chizuru's teammates moved in front to set a screen, the sound of shoes scraping against the floor filling the space.
Chizuru slipped through the opening with quick, precise steps. The pass came to her hands an instant later. Without hesitation, she rose into her shot.
Her body extended fully, arms steady in the air. The ball spun once, then fell clean through the hoop.
Back on offense, Suzume received the pass and noticed an open lane ahead.
With no sign of Chizuru marking her, she took a step forward, rose into a mid-range shot, and released. The ball hit the back of the rim, bounced once, then dropped cleanly through the net.
On the return play, Chizuru drove toward the lane. Haruko moved fast, sliding in front of her, arms raised, feet braced against the floor.
Chizuru stopped sharply, her sneakers squealing against the court, then sent a quick pass to Tatsuki.
Tatsuki caught it in motion and laid it in off the glass.
Kotone moved into position beneath the basket on the next play. The pass came smoothly into her hands, and with no defender close enough to challenge her, she set her feet, squared her shoulders, and banked in the layup.
Misono wasted no time on the inbound. Tatsuki caught the ball and pushed forward with speed.
She drove straight toward the rim, where Kotone stepped up to meet her. Tatsuki lifted the ball slightly, drawing Kotone into the air, then leaned back as their bodies brushed and released the shot with a quick flick of her wrist.
The ball slipped through the net just as the sharp sound of the whistle cut across the court.
"Illegal contact, Number 9. Basket counts. One free throw."
The players lined up along the key. Tatsuki dribbled the ball once, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
Well now, Coach… I guess that's not considered foul play, she thought, glancing briefly toward Haruko.
She lifted the ball and released it in one smooth motion. The shot fell cleanly through the net with a soft swish.
Haruko signaled to Kotone for a screen. The moment it connected, she stepped out to the side and rose for a three-pointer.
The ball traced a clean arc through the air and dropped straight into the hoop.
Chizuru answered immediately, sprinting down the court. She took a single dribble, planted her feet, and released another long-range shot. The ball hit nothing but net.
Hachioji moved fast on the return. The ball went inside to Kotone once more.
Her defender was a step behind—too slow to contest. Kotone guided the ball off the glass with calm precision.
Before the defense could reset, Chizuru caught the inbound and fired a pass ahead.
Her teammate returned it in stride, finishing with a quick layup.
The pace had become unbroken, each play flowing into the next.
The scoreboard flashed: 50–44.
Only fifteen seconds left, Chizuru thought, wiping the sweat from her forehead. I know we've already lost… but I want one more basket.
She turned her eyes toward Haruko.
Suzume inbounded the ball to Haruko.
The crowd's noise thinned, replaced by the steady rhythm of the ball against the floor.
Sweat slid down Haruko's temple as she adjusted her stance. Her breathing steadied.
She raised a hand toward Kotone, signaling for a screen, eyes locked on Chizuru.
Chizuru read the move and slipped around the screen before it formed, closing the space between them.
Haruko shifted the ball to her left, then crossed behind her back.
Chizuru lunged, but Haruko stepped back, creating a sliver of room.
She rose smoothly, arms lifting in one motion.
The ball arced upward—then the whistle cut through the air.
A heartbeat later, swish.
The net snapped tight. For a brief moment, the gym fell silent. Then the cheers broke loose.
Sayaka jumped to her feet, voice bursting with joy. "We won!"
"Yay… we did," Suzume murmured, her face expressionless as she pressed her fingers to the corners of her mouth, forcing a small smile.
"Come on, Suzume. At least act happy, you emotionless robot," Kotone said, pulling her into a tight hug.
"Get your sweaty self off me!" Suzume protested, trying to push her away.
Kotone only laughed, tightening her grip. "That's better."
Kazue stepped up beside them, a calm smile on her face. She gave Haruko's back a gentle pat.
"You really were amazing out there, Captain."
"Yeah, she really was. And it's all thanks to Kawaguchi-senpai." Kotone's grin widened as she leaned forward slightly. "I should take him out on a date as thanks. You're okay with that, right, Haruko?"
"Do as you like." Haruko's voice stayed calm, but a faint red touched her cheeks.
Kotone laughed softly under her breath. "You're cute when you get flustered. Still, great work today, Haruko. I'm proud of you."
Chizuru's fingers twitched at her side. That clean swish burned into her ears—the kind of shot she'd wanted to make herself. But instead of bitterness, she felt… admiration.
She approached Haruko with Tatsuki walking beside her, both still catching their breath.
"You're really good." Chizuru brushed her bangs aside, eyes meeting Haruko's. "We gave it everything, and still lost."
Haruko stepped closer, a small smile forming. "We won this time, but your skills were impressive. You're a strong shooter."
"My name's Chizuru. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand.
"Haruko." Their hands met briefly.
"You weren't half bad either. Just avoid playing dirty next time."
Haruko's gaze stayed steady, a faint curve at the corner of her mouth.
Tatsuki's arms tightened across her chest. A sharp breath escaped through her nose, her eyes narrowing.
"As if your words mean anything to me."
The space between them hummed with tension, the sound of the players fading to a dull murmur in the background.
"Don't mind her." Chizuru's tone eased with a slight chuckle. "By the way, what high school do you plan to attend? If you're still deciding, you could come to ours. We could play together."
"I'm going to Toshigawa Academy." Haruko's expression steadied. "I plan to start a basketball team there. You can join if you'd like, but I've already decided."
"I see. You've made up your mind. Is there any special reason you want to go there?"
Chizuru's tone was calm, eyes steady, a faint glint of curiosity beneath her fringe.
"There are a few reasons."
Haruko's gaze slipped aside. Her fingers fidgeted lightly against each other, the motion small but restless.
Kotone's teasing voice came from behind. "It's because of Kawaguchi-senpai, right? You really do like him."
"Please stop that already." Haruko's face grew redder as she turned away. "That's not the reason."
"I'll be cheering for you." Chizuru's smile softened. "All the best in your matches. Next time, we'll win." She gave a short wave before returning to her team.
Tatsuki caught the look on Chizuru's face as they walked back. The quiet disappointment in her eyes made Tatsuki's stomach tighten.
That face… when she's trying not to show she's sad. I don't want to see it again. I'll get stronger—strong enough to stand beside her.
"Hey… Tatsuki."
Her voice came softly from behind.
Tatsuki turned her head slightly. "What is it?"
Chizuru's lips curved faintly. The tiredness in her face lightened. "I really love basketball. Today was the most fun I've had in a long time."
Tatsuki lowered her gaze for a moment, warmth touching her cheeks. The tight feeling in her chest eased.
"Yeah… let's keep working hard," she said quietly. "Next time, we'll win."
Chizuru gave a small nod. Their steps fell in the same rhythm as they left the court.
At the officials' table, Coach Yamaoka's voice carried across the gym.
"The match between Hachioji Academy and Misono Girls' Junior and Senior High School ends fifty-three to forty-four. Hachioji Academy takes the win."
Coach Maeda stepped forward, hands on her hips, eyes steady.
"You all played well—especially you, Haruko. I'm expecting good things from you this season."
Haruko straightened and gave a firm nod. "Yes, Coach."