The sun rose over Hoshimori High, painting the forgotten court in shades of orange and gold. Kai Ryuusei bounced the ball, letting the rhythm calm his mind. Yesterday's scrimmage had left his muscles sore, but his heart was alive in a way it hadn't been in years.
"Late again, first-year?" Daichi Kurogane called from the gym door, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Sweat still clung to his jersey from the previous day. "I swear, you're either too fast or too slow to stick to a schedule."
Kai shrugged. "I needed time to listen to the court."
Daichi rolled his eyes, but Mio Kanzaki's voice cut in, soft but eager. "He's right… the court… it does tell you things if you pay attention."
Toma shuffled forward, hands tucked into his sleeves. "It… it's not just about skill. We need to… feel it as one."
Coach Sakamoto stepped onto the court, quiet but imposing. "Today isn't about points or wins. It's about synergy. Every player here has potential, but alone, it's wasted."
Kai nodded, bouncing the ball lightly. "So we need to trust each other."
"Finally, he speaks sense," Daichi muttered, but the edge in his voice softened slightly.
The team split into drills. Kai worked alongside Mio, threading passes with silent precision while Mio began to gain confidence under pressure. "I can… do this," Mio muttered after a perfect alley-oop connection, breathless. "I can actually do this."
Kai smiled faintly. "You're doing more than you think. Flow with me, not against me."
Meanwhile, Daichi and Toma practiced under the rim. Daichi's Kurogane Drive slammed through the paint, but Toma didn't flinch this time. "I… I can hold you," Toma said quietly, determination in his eyes. He planted his feet, Iron Anchor shimmering faintly, absorbing the captain's brute force.
Daichi grunted in surprise. "Not bad… you've got some weight behind you now."
"Thanks… it's… different," Toma said, voice small but steady.
Coach Sakamoto clapped once. "Good. That's the start. You're learning to rely on each other. But it won't be enough if you can't combine your abilities under real pressure."
Kai raised an eyebrow. "We need… more advanced drills?"
The coach smirked. "Exactly. Time to push your limits."
They started intense exercises designed to test synergy: relay drills with Phantom Pass and Silent Thread, defensive coordination using Iron Anchor and Kurogane Drive, and pressure simulations mimicking a full-court opponent. Each mistake was met with frustration and laughter, arguments and encouragement.
Mio froze mid-pass. "I can't see the lane!"
Kai stepped beside him. "Breathe. Focus on the rhythm, not the defenders. I'll guide you—trust the court."
The pass connected, cutting through a simulated defense perfectly. "Yes!" Mio shouted, raising a fist.
Daichi barked orders at the team during scrimmages. "Cover! Move! Watch your spacing!" His aura flared, but slowly, frustration softened into focus as the team began to move with purpose, slowly syncing with each other.
Toma, who had spent most drills hesitating under pressure, finally leaped during a rebound and slammed the ball back, the crowding teammates moving instinctively around him. "I… I did it!"
Kai clapped once. "See? That's what teamwork looks like. We're getting there."
The day wore on, muscles aching and sweat pouring, but a quiet transformation took place. The court no longer felt lonely. The ball's echo no longer seemed distant—it was part of them now, part of their rhythm, part of the team.
After practice, as the sun dipped low, the team gathered near the edge of the court, looking out at the sea. Toma broke the silence. "Tomorrow… we face another team?"
Daichi scowled, though there was a spark of excitement. "Not just any team. A rival. The type that'll push us past what we think is possible."
Kai's eyes narrowed, a small smile forming. "Then we'll be ready. Together."
Mio adjusted his wristband. "Yeah… together."
Coach Sakamoto's smile was quiet, knowing. "The court will test you tomorrow. But tonight… remember this feeling. The team is stronger than any individual. Trust it."
Kai held the ball, letting the waves of energy from practice settle in. For the first time, the weight of isolation was gone. The team wasn't perfect, but they were moving forward, and the scrimmage against the rival team loomed like a storm on the horizon—waiting to see if they had truly awakened.
And beneath the cracks and salt-stains, the court hummed in approval.