When Tadao stepped into Class 1-O for his first session of the morning, a familiar tension hung in the air. He kept his eyes down, expecting the usual silence or sideways glances. But today felt… different.
"Hey, that dunk yesterday was insane," one of the boys near the window called out.
Tadao paused mid-step, unsure if he heard right. "...Huh?"
"You play basketball?" a girl asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. "You looked really cool out there."
"Ah… thanks," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. His ears flushed red as he shuffled toward his seat.
From two rows behind, Ayako quietly watched him. Her chin rested on her palm as she studied the way he reacted—awkward, caught off guard, but not irritated. Just… surprised.
"I was watching from the stands," another girl added. "We're all rooting for you in the tournament. Do your best!"
"Huh? Uh… yeah. I'll try," he mumbled, eyes fixed on his desk.
The class burst into laughter—not mockery, but warm, lighthearted amusement.
"Man, he's all embarrassed now!"
"He's not scary at all when he's like this."
Tadao groaned softly and buried his face in his arms.
Ayako smiled faintly.
He was like a big dog pretending to be tough, only to roll over the second someone praised him.
For the first time, she thought, he looked like a normal boy.
And that was kind of nice.
The school bell rang, its sharp sound cutting through the steady hum of the classrooms. Chairs scraped against the floors as students got up, the low shuffle of footsteps quickly building as they spilled into the hallways. The steady murmur of conversation rose around them, mixed with the occasional loud laugh or the slap of hands in casual high-fives. Some students walked in small groups, chatting as they made their way toward the cafeteria, while others lingered by their lockers or gathered near the windows. The hallways filled with the usual lunchtime energy—voices overlapping, footsteps echoing against the walls, the faint smell of curry bread and sweet milk drifting from nearby lunch boxes.
"Alright guys, let's go get lunch," said Noboru as he stood up, stretching his arms.
"My aunt made me lunch today again, so... you're on your own," Shino mumbled, glancing away as he scratched his cheek. "S-Sorry."
"That's okay. What about you, Tetsuo?" Noboru asked, turning to him.
"My sister made me lunch today," Tetsuo replied simply, pulling out his lunch box and, without waiting, starting to eat right there.
"Figures." Noboru sighed. "Well, at least Makoto won't let me down."
Makoto smirked as he casually pulled out his own lunch box. "Actually, I realized it's less expensive to make your own lunch, so I made mine today too."
Noboru stared at him in disbelief. "No way… you guys are the worst. I'll have to wait in the cafeteria line alone!"
Makoto snickered. "Honestly, I bet you don't even know how to cook."
"How dare you!" Noboru shot back, pointing at him in mock offense.
A few steps away, Sachiko let out a quiet yawn and stretched her arms above her head.
"You seem tired these days, Sachi. Everything alright?" Naomi asked, noticing her sluggish movements.
"Yeah… it's just that the student council has gotten way busier with all these upcoming events and the flood of complaints we've been getting." Sachiko rubbed the back of her neck. "It's been a lot."
"I see. Must be tough. Don't overwork yourself," Naomi said with a soft smile.
Naomi reached into her bag and pulled out a small package. "Here, have one." She handed Sachiko a chocolate muffin.
Sachiko took a bite and her eyes lit up. "Whoa, this is really good!"
"I'm glad you like it," Naomi said, her face brightening. "It's a new recipe I came up with. I was planning to make them for my mom's bakery."
"I'd definitely buy them for sure," Sachiko said, already reaching for another bite.
"Oh, they're really that good, huh?" Noboru suddenly appeared, snatching two muffins without warning and stuffing one into his mouth.
"Hey! How dare you take my stuff without asking!" Naomi shouted, immediately smacking him on the shoulder.
"Ow—! It's a compliment, isn't it?!" Noboru whined as he rubbed his arm.
"Ask first next time! I don't know where your dirty hands have been!" Naomi snapped, glaring at him.
"Relax, I washed them… probably," Noboru muttered with a teasing grin.
"Gross! I'm serious!" Naomi scolded, smacking him again as Noboru laughed it off.
"Thanks for the appetizer," Noboru said with a grin, already backing away.
"You better pay me back for those—four hundred yen!" Naomi snapped, pointing at him.
"Well, that's my cue. See you!" Noboru shouted as he bolted out of the classroom.
As he sprinted into the hallway, he crashed straight into someone standing just outside the door. He stumbled back, quickly realizing who it was.
Tadao looked down at him, his expression unreadable.
"O-Oh, sorry," Noboru muttered, stepping aside without a second thought.
Tadao brushed past him without a word and walked straight into the classroom. He grabbed a chair and sat down at the table where Shino, Tetsuo, and Makoto were eating.
The air around the table instantly grew heavy.
Without saying anything, Makoto quietly closed his lunch box, picked it up, and stood. "I'm going now," he said, his voice flat.
Tadao barely glanced at him. "Whatever. Do what the hell you want, jackass," he muttered under his breath.
Makoto didn't respond and simply walked out, his steps steady but stiff.
Tadao's gaze drifted to Tetsuo, lingering for a long, uncomfortable moment before he clicked his tongue. "Tch." He got up and left the classroom just as suddenly as he'd come in.
Sachiko, who had been watching from a few desks away, tilted her head. "Isn't that the guy who just started coming to school recently?"
"Yeah, that's Tadao Hoshiguma, I believe," Naomi said, her tone careful. "I heard the first time he came to school, he got into a brawl with the basketball team. He was pretty short-tempered back then."
"Seems like he's joined the team now though…" Naomi's eyes flicked over to Shino, who was staring down at his desk, his shoulders stiff. "But there's still some tension between him and some of the others."
"I see… so that explains it," Sachiko murmured, her curiosity piqued.
Her eyes wandered to Tetsuo, who was quietly eating, his expression hard to read.
I wonder how Tetsuo feels about this whole situation, she thought to herself.
Nanaho called out the teams, her whistle dangling loosely from her fingers.
"Makoto, Tadao, Tetsuo—you're together. Yukio, Liam, Hayato—you're on the other side. Let's run it."
The players quickly took their positions, sneakers squeaking lightly against the polished gym floor. The faint scent of wax and sweat lingered in the air.
The ball was inbounded to Tetsuo, who immediately felt Yukio's suffocating defense pressing into his space. Yukio's footwork was sharp, his breath steady, and his eyes locked onto Tetsuo's movements, refusing to give an inch.
Without hesitation, Tetsuo swung the ball over to Makoto on the wing. The ball slapped into Makoto's palms with a solid thud.
Hayato closed in fast, his shoes skidding slightly as he cut off Makoto's driving lane. "You're boxed in, Makoto," he taunted, his arms stretched wide, his breathing even but alert.
Makoto dribbled in place, the rhythmic thump of the ball echoing in the gym, his eyes flicking left and right.
"Oi, pass it over here!" Tadao called out, his voice sharp, stepping into an open pocket near the top of the key.
Makoto's glance toward him was cold, fleeting. He tightened his grip on the ball, dropped low, and exploded with a quick crossover. His sneakers scraped loudly as he slipped past Hayato's outstretched arm, his pace rapid, sweat flicking from his brow as he powered toward the rim.
The air seemed to pulse around him as he went up for the layup—but just as his fingers flicked the ball toward the backboard, Liam's shadow loomed.
Smack!
Liam's palm collided with the ball mid-air, sending it rocketing out of bounds with a harsh slap that echoed across the gym walls.
"God damn it!" Tadao cursed, his fists clenching at his sides, the sting of frustration tightening his chest.
Nanaho's whistle pierced the air. "Run that back," she said, her voice firm but laced with a hint of concern.
This time, Tadao started with the ball. The rubber felt sticky in his hands, the faint scent of it mixing with the sweat clinging to his skin. Determined, he slammed the ball against the floor and drove hard toward the basket. Each step pounded like a drumbeat, the squeal of his shoes sharp against the floor.
Liam braced himself under the hoop, his stance wide, eyes focused, waiting like an immovable wall.
Tadao launched himself upward, his muscles screaming with the effort, aiming for a powerful dunk—but Liam sprang up with him, his timing razor-sharp.
He's gonna block me again.
Mid-air, the decision struck him. He twisted his body mid-flight and rocketed a pass to the wing.
"Catch!!"
The pass spun cleanly through the air, sharp and precise, aimed perfectly for Makoto's hands.
Makoto's eyes tracked the ball but his arms didn't move. The ball slipped right past his fingertips and bounced out of bounds with a hollow thud.
"Looks like my hand slipped," Makoto said, staring at his palm with mock surprise.
Shino, watching from the sidelines, blinked in disbelief. "That's the first time I've ever seen Makoto miss a pass like that…"
Takahiro folded his arms, his gaze darkening. "Yeah, that's because he did it on purpose."
Tadao's fury erupted instantly. He stormed over, his heavy steps pounding the floor, and grabbed Makoto by the collar, yanking him forward.
"You bastard!"
"Hey, you two! Calm down!" Hayato called out, stepping in with raised hands.
But Yukio quickly cut in, his tone cold and deliberate. "No. Let him talk."
"You ignored my pass on purpose!" Tadao roared, his grip tightening as his teeth clenched.
Makoto's gaze was steady, his expression unreadable. "What proof do you have?"
"Listen to me, punk! What the hell do you think this is? If you keep pulling this crap, we won't stand a chance at the Inter-High! So quit with the bullshit already!" Tadao's chest heaved as he glared at him. "I know I didn't start off right with you guys. I know what I did can't be erased. But I already apologized. What the hell more do you want from me?!"
"Let go of my shirt," Makoto muttered, his voice low, his eyes narrowing.
Tadao's grip trembled, then slowly loosened.
Makoto straightened his collar with a slow, deliberate tug. "I'm stepping out for a bit," he said flatly, turning his back on the court, his footsteps echoing as he walked out of the gym.
"I... I'm confused," Liam said, scratching his head as he tried to make sense of what just happened.
On the sideline, Yukio and Nanaho exchanged heavy glances.
Nanaho crossed her arms and exhaled, the weight of the situation settling over her like a stone. I thought pairing them up today would help dissolve some of the lingering tension. I figured putting them on the same team would force them to rely on each other.
But it backfired. Badly.
She glanced at the exit Makoto had just walked through.
I didn't expect Makoto to be the stubborn one. I thought for sure Tadao would snap first. But Makoto… he's not ready to let this go.
Yukio walked over, his gaze distant but thoughtful. "This won't work if they can't fix this. You know that, right?"
"I know," Nanaho sighed, lowering her voice.
"But there's nothing we can do. They'll have to sort this out on their own—we can't force them."
"You're right. It's all up to them," Yukio said with a sigh as he watched Tadao sitting on the floor, frustration clear on his face as he drank his water.
"The tournament's in a week. If they don't patch things up before then, the team might suffer when it matters most."