The evening sun cast long shadows across the cracked sidewalk Noboru dragged his aching legs down the street, each step a dull throb radiating up his calves. He groaned, running a hand through his sweat-matted hair, wincing at the tightness in his thighs. "Man, training's getting brutal lately. My legs feel like I'm dragging cinder blocks."
"W-Well... the tournament's basically in a week..." Shino's soft voice wavered as he was walking a pace behind him, his hands nervously gripping the straps of his bag. "F-Fukazawa-senpai just wants us to be ready..."
"Well, we'll be too sore to even play the damn match if she keeps up this harsh training," Noboru grumbled, rubbing his aching thighs as a dull burn lingered in his muscles.
Ahead of them, Makoto walked with his usual steady, almost lazy gait, his hands tucked deep into his pants pockets. Without breaking stride, he glanced over his shoulder. "Speak for yourself. You were basically dead weight during four-on-fours today. Nanaho had to sub you out for Shino."
"Oh yeah?" Noboru's scowl deepened, his pace quickening as his temper flared. "At least I played better than you! You turned the ball over so many times, Nanaho looked like she was gonna explode."
Makoto sighed, as if too bored to argue properly. "Please. The only thing you managed to see at the rim today was Liam's hand pinning your pathetic layups to the backboard."
Noboru jerked to a stop, his eyes blazing. "Say that again. I dare you."
Makoto stopped, slowly turning to face him, the calm in his eyes sharp enough to cut. "The only thing you saw was Liam's hand at the rim. Blocking your pathetic layups."
"U-Um, c-come on, y-you guys..." Shino stammered, nervously waving his hands as he wedged himself between them. "W-We all worked h-hard today... l-let's not—"
"What's your deal with that punk, anyway?" Noboru growled, his nostrils flaring.
Makoto tilted his head slightly, a bored edge in his voice. "I assume by 'that punk' you mean Tadao?"
"Yeah! Today, you didn't pass to him even once. You ignored his passes too. It was like you were doing it on purpose," Shino mumbled, avoiding Makoto's gaze as he anxiously adjusted his grip on his bag.
Makoto let out a long sigh, the faint breeze stirring his hair as his eyes drifted toward the rustling leaves. "So it was that obvious, huh?"
His voice dropped, a rare crack in his usual indifference. "It's not like I have a personal grudge against the guy. But something about him just... ticks me off."
Footsteps echoed behind them. Noboru turned, his brow arching when he saw Tadao walking their way.
"Speaking of, there he is." Noboru pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.
Makoto paused, turning to face Tadao, while Shino spun awkwardly, caught off guard.
Tadao's usual scowl was firmly in place as he approached.
"Why are you following us?" Makoto asked, his tone laced with irritation.
"Well, isn't it obvious? I'm going home, dumbass. The train station's this way. Don't worry, I'll get out of your frickin' hair soon." Tadao brushed past them, his shoulder lightly bumping Makoto.
"Shino sighed, his nerves still rattling from the tension. "U-Um…"
Noboru smirked and nudged Makoto with his elbow. "You know, for a guy I thought was chill and laid back, you're real petty."
Makoto huffed, his gaze lingering on Tadao's back as he walked ahead. "Well, at least I'm not the knockoff version of that hot-headed punk. All bark and no bite."
Noboru's face twisted in offense. "Are you saying we're alike? How dare you!"
Makoto smirked. "Exactly my point."
The three of them continued walking, the low murmur of passing traffic and the occasional chirp of birds filling the silence that followed. Shino hesitated, his brow furrowed in quiet concern as his grip tightened on the strap of his bag. "D-Do you think you'll ever put this behind you? Y-You and Tadao, I mean."
Makoto shrugged, his tone indifferent. "Who knows."
As they turned the next corner, faint sounds of laughter and shouting drifted from a nearby basketball court. The rhythmic thump of a bouncing ball, the sharp squeak of sneakers against the concrete.
"What's that?" Shino asked, his curiosity piqued as he peered in the direction of the sounds.
They approached the chain-link fence and peered through it. A group of junior high schoolers were frantically trying to get their basketball back from five older high schoolers who taunted them mercilessly.
"Hey! Give us our ball back!" one of the younger boys pleaded, his voice cracking in desperation.
"If you want it, come and take it," the tallest bully sneered, his voice cruel as he casually passed the ball to his friend, who bounced it lazily while smirking.
Another junior high student, tears welling in his wide eyes, begged again, his voice trembling. "Please stop, give us back the ball!"
"Maybe we went overboard," one of the bullies teased, holding out the ball mockingly with one hand. "Here, come get it."
"Thank you!" the boy stepped forward, relief flashing across his face like a lifeline.
"Just kidding." The high schooler snatched the ball away at the last second, tossing it to his friend as their laughter echoed across the court, sharp and grating.
"That's horrible!" Shino exclaimed, gripping the fence tightly, his palms pressing against the rough metal links.
"Those bastards," Noboru snarled, his knuckles whitening as he clenched the fence so hard it rattled under his grip.
Makoto, his patience finally spent, stepped forward with a calm precision that felt oddly dangerous. In a blink, he intercepted a lazy pass with sharp reflexes, the ball smacking into his palm with a satisfying thud.
Shino gaped in awe. "Wow… he stole that ball so effortlessly… his timing was perfect."
Makoto nonchalantly bounced the ball once, the echo snapping crisply across the court, and handed it back to the junior high students. "Here you go."
"Um, t-thank you very much!" one of them stammered, his hands trembling as he accepted the ball.
The bullies, caught off guard by Makoto's audacity, quickly surrounded him, their sneakers scuffing aggressively against the concrete.
"Oi! Who the hell do you think you are pulling crap like that?" one barked, his lip curling in anger.
"This isn't good," Shino muttered fearfully, his pulse quickening as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.
"Guess I'll have to step in." Noboru cracked his knuckles, stepping forward with an eager glint in his eye.
"Funny, I should be asking you the same thing," Makoto said with cool disdain, his voice steady. "Ganging up on junior high kids? How pathetic."
"You'll pay for that crap you just spat, you piece of shit!"
A fist shot toward Makoto's face, cutting through the humid air—but it never landed. A firm hand intercepted it mid-air, squeezing tightly until the assailant's wrist creaked.
Tadao's cold eyes bore into the bully, his grip unrelenting. "Do you guys seriously want your asses kicked that badly?"
The bully thrashed against Tadao's iron hold. "What the hell do you want, punk?! Let go of me!"
Recognition flickered in one of the bullies' eyes. "Wait… that hair… that height… you're Tadao Hoshiguma! The guy who took down the biker gang!"
Panic rippled through the group like a wave.
"Crap, we're dead! He's gonna beat the crap out of us!"
Tadao's smirk curved darkly. "The old me would've gladly granted your wish. But lucky for you, I've mellowed out."
Noboru scowled, his pride stung. "Hey, I was about to handle that, punk. You stole my moment."
Shino, catching his breath as he jogged over, sighed in relief. "Honestly, I'm kinda glad Tadao showed up… Makoto's not exactly a fighter… that wouldn't have ended well."
"You doing alright?" Tadao asked, glancing at Makoto with a faint flicker of concern.
"Of course. I was handling it," Makoto replied, brushing invisible dust from his shirt.
"Sure you were."
Tadao turned back to the bullies, his stare piercing. "Listen up, trash. Normally I'd tell you to scram, but you'd probably come back later and harass these kids again. So, I'll give you a choice: either I pummel all of you right here, or we play 5-on-5. If we win, you leave this court and these kids alone."
The bullies exchanged nervous glances, their bravado cracking.
"If we win, you leave us alone and let us do whatever we want," the lead bully shot back.
"Fine by me. I can let you punks dream a little."
Shino hesitated, his nerves fluttering. "U-Um, h-hate to break it to you, but there's only four of us."
Tadao blinked, quickly scanning their group. "Shit, you're right. Well, we can have one of the kids fill in."
"But we're not that good at basketball," one of the junior high kids admitted shyly, his grip tight around the ball.
"You don't have to be. Just stand in the corner and let us handle it."
"I-I don't wanna!" the kid protested, his small frame trembling.
"Why does it look like he's the one bullying them now?" Noboru muttered, exasperated.
Just then, a calm voice cut through the simmering tension. "I'll play. I'll fill the spot for the kid."
A figure approached the court with unhurried steps, the setting sun casting long shadows at his back. He wore the same Toshigawa Academy uniform, black shirt and a green tie, the fabric faintly rustling with each stride.
"Who the hell are you?" Tadao asked, narrowing his eyes.
"He's from Toshigawa, the same school as us" Shino noted, eyeing the uniform carefully.
"Oh, you don't say. Got any experience in the sport?"
The student scratched the back of his head with an easy grin. "You could say that. I played a bit back in junior high and during my first year."
"Well, that's better than nothing." Tadao smirked, spinning the ball once before tucking it under his arm. "Alright—let's go kick some ass."