The match against Hoshikawa High was approaching, and with it, a tension that seemed to grow in the
atmosphere like an invisible storm. Yuji Kanzaki's name echoed through the halls of the
school like that of a living legend. No one knew exactly how to deal with it, and that fueled
even more so the myth.
Haruki, however, was unwilling to surrender to the opponent's aura.
During that week, each day began the same: meetings in the audiovisual room, analysis of
defensive patterns, observation of Hoshikawa's pace of play, tactical simulations. Haruki
He was at the center of everything, like a director who rehearses a play before the big premiere.
"Kanzaki doesn't just score," Haruki told the team. He directs. It is like a nucleus around which it revolves
all. If we stop it, we destabilize the system.
Souta crossed his arms and nodded cautiously. Riku seemed more confident, as always, but
even he knew that they were facing a different opponent.
-What if we don't manage to break it? asked one of the substitutes.
"Then we will find the crack," Haruki replied. All walls, no matter how high, have
a fissure. You just have to look carefully.
The day before the match, Haruki decided to do something unusual: he isolated himself. He did not go to
training, with
Coach's permission. He walked through the center of the city, sat in a park and began to
drawing plays in a notebook while watching people move around them.
Every step, every change of pace, every micro-gesture reminded him of basketball. The world was
full of patterns. And he just needed to read them.
In the afternoon, she received a message from Ami.
**"Where are you?" **
**"Deciphering a wall." ** he replied.
That night, Ami waited for him at the door of the gym. He asked her no questions. He just walked over and
looked at him
to the eyes.
"Whatever happens tomorrow," he said. You've already done more than anyone expected. Just remember who
you are when you're out there.
Haruki nodded. I knew it. He wasn't just a player. He was the one who saw what others did not see.
He was the strategist.
The dawn of match day brought with it a gray sky, low clouds, and a light haze that
He covered the institute as an omen. Haruki arrived early, even before the coach. Herself
He sat on the bleachers of the empty gymnasium, listening to the echo of his own thoughts.
Little by little, the others arrived. Riku greeted him with a sideways smile. Souta did not say
nothing, but his steady gaze was enough. Everyone knew what was at stake.
When the team boarded the bus to the central stadium where the second round of the
tournament, the silence was almost reverential. Some listened to music. Others reviewed plays
Mental. Haruki read a page from his notebook where he had written in large letters:
"Control the time. Control the game."
The stadium was larger than the previous one. The stands stretched in several directions and the
High spotlights illuminated the field as if it were a theater stage. Hoshikawa was already there,
Heating. Their players were tall, coordinated, silent. At the center of all, Yuji Kanzaki.
He wore a black ribbon on his forehead and his movements were calculated, almost mechanical. Every
dribble, every pass, every move... it was part of a precise routine. He was not smiling. He did not speak.
"It's scary, isn't it?" Riku whispered.
Haruki didn't answer. I just watched him, looking for the crack.
The match started with overflowing intensity. Hoshikawa pushed from the first second,
cutting passing lines, forcing mistakes. Kanzaki ran the game like an orchestra conductor.
His assists were perfect, his shots clean.
But Haruki resisted. Not with force, but with observation. He moved between the lines, adjusted the
defense, he signaled to his teammates. At times, he seemed to be in two places at once.
In the second quarter, Hoshikawa took an eight-point lead. The coach asked for time
dead.
"They are not seeing the empty space," Haruki said, panting. Kanzaki controls with his presence, but
He leaves gaps where he thinks no one will attack. That's where we need to hit.
Daichi heard him. Assented. Riku and Souta exchanged a look. Haruki was right.
They returned to the field. They executed a cut from the weak side. Haruki assisted a substitute who
he entered the race and scored. Next play: pressure on Kanzaki, steal and triple by Riku.
The crack was opening.
The pace of the game was exhausting. Every possession felt like a mental battle. Kanzaki,
Although unperturbed, he began to frown slightly. It was just a gesture, but for
Haruki was a clear sign: they were making him uncomfortable.
On the bench, Daichi turned to Ami.
-Since when does that boy see so much?
"Always," she replied without hesitation. Only now we allow it.
In the third quarter, Hoshikawa adjusted his strategy. Kanzaki began to play more aggressively,
taking more personal throws and marking Haruki with intensity. The confrontation already
It wasn't just tactical. It was personal.
Haruki, under pressure, made two mistakes in a row. A bad pass. Then a foul in defense. The
score again tilted in favor of Hoshikawa. Daichi called time-out.
Haruki sat on the bench, towel over his head and eyes closed. I took a deep breath,
trying not to collapse.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You're not perfect," Ami said, kneeling beside him. But that doesn't make you any less of a leader.
Haruki looked up. Ami was smiling. Her presence was enough to calm him down.
-Kanzaki only knows how to play by winning. But you know how to adapt," she added.
He returned to the field. There were five minutes to go. The score was even. Haruki didn't try anything
spectacular. He just kept reading, distributing, encouraging his teammates. A tray of
Souta, a recovery by Riku, an unexpected three-pointer from the less experienced player.
And then came the decisive moment. With twenty seconds to go, a tie. Possession for
Hoshikawa. Everyone expected Kanzaki to take the shot. But Haruki, watching his gaze,
Understood.
"It's going to happen!" -Cried.
He jumped to intercept. He cut off the pass. Clean theft.
The gym roared. Riku took the ball and ran. Haruki went with him, but at the last second, Riku
he stopped, looked at his friend and passed him the ball.
Haruki received. Launched.
Silence.
He scored.
The team erupted in celebration. Kanzaki froze, his eyes fixed on Haruki.
He had lost.
For the first time.
After the final whistle, the field became a tide of screams, hugs and amazement. The
The Falcons had defeated the undefeated team, and not with brute force, but with vision. With strategy.
With intelligence.
Haruki was surrounded by his companions. Souta picked him up in his arms, Riku shook him laughing, and
the substitutes applauded him with a mixture of pride and admiration.
"What a read, Nakamura!" cried one.
-That was the theft of the tournament! said another.
But Haruki was only thinking about Kanzaki.
Hoshikawa's captain watched him from midfield. Then he approached with a firm step. The
Silence fell around them.
"You're better than I thought," Kanzaki said. I have no excuses.
Haruki bowed his head respectfully.
-Thank you for the match.
"We'll face each other again," Kanzaki added before leaving.
Later, in the locker room, Daichi gathered the team.
-Today we are not just celebrating a victory. We celebrate the birth of a new team. One that
he can beat anyone, because he dares to think differently.
Then he turned to Haruki.
-And you... He continues to see what no one else sees.
The night ended with a small celebration at Riku's house. Between laughs, sandwiches and
video games, Haruki allowed himself to let his guard down. He felt that something inside him had broken... for
not bad.
In the early hours of the morning, when everyone was almost asleep, Ami and Haruki went out into the garden.
-Now what? he asked, looking at the stars.
-Now... "We keep moving forward," she replied.
-Even if the road gets more difficult?
-Especially then.
They looked at each other in silence. The world was big, and the tournament wasn't over. But at that moment,
Haruki didn't think about trophies or rivals. I was only thinking about her. At that time. In peace after
of battle.
"Thank you, Ami."
"To be here?"
-For helping me believe that I can be more than an otaku with a notebook.
Ami laughed.
-You were from the beginning. You just needed to see it too.
The following Monday, the atmosphere at the institute was one of euphoria. Everyone was talking about the
match. Haruki doesn't
He could walk the halls without receiving greetings, clapping bumps, or glowing comments.
But that attention, far from boosting his ego, kept him restless.
In the gym, the coach gathered the team.
-Our next battle is against Kirisaki Institute. They are known for their physical aggressiveness and their
Chaotic gameplay.
A murmur ran through the players.
-And how are you supposed to prepare a strategy against chaos? asked one of the substitutes.
"Looking beyond the chaos," Haruki replied. Clutter also has a rhythm. And I think
Find.
Riku applauded. Souta, however, remained silent. During training, it was shown
less collaborative. In one play, he interrupted an indication from Haruki.
"You're not the coach," he said quietly.
Haruki looked at him in surprise.
"I'm just trying to help.
-What if you ever fail? Who takes the blame?
The comment stuck in his mind for hours. At the end of the training, it will be
he commented to Ami as they walked through the yard.
-I think Souta feels that I am crossing a line.
"Perhaps it is because he sees something in you that he cannot control," she said. Not everyone knows how to
share the
leadership.
"I don't want to take his place. I just want us to win.
-Then show him that your intention is not the protagonism. It's the team.
That night, Haruki wrote a letter that he never sent. He titled it "To whom he also wants me to
let's win." It was for Souta. There were implicit apologies, understanding, and above all respect.
On the day of the pre-match drill with Kirisaki, Haruki surprised the team.
"Today, I don't direct," he announced. Souta will lead the strategy. I will support from wherever they need me.
Souta looked at him in silence. Then he nodded.
-Fact.
The practice was hard, physical, as if they were already facing Kirisaki. Souta guided strongly.
Haruki contributed quietly, intervening only when it was really necessary.
In the end, they both looked at each other. Souta approached.
"You didn't have to.
"Yes, I had to," Haruki replied. Because only together will we go all the way.
Souta smiled for the first time in weeks.
"Then we will get there.
The day of the match against Kirisaki arrived with a different air. There was no reverent silence as in the
previous meetings. This time, the voltage was pure electricity. Kirisaki was feared by everyone not
because of its technique, but because of its organized brutality.
From the first minute, the game was physical. Pushing, hard contacts, fast hands that
they were close to the limit of the foul. The referee let play. And that benefited the most aggressive ones.
Haruki was brought down twice in the first five minutes. Riku was elbowed without penalty.
Souta, his shirt half torn off, stood up with his eyes burning.
"We can't go on like this," he growled. If we play their game, they destroy us.
Haruki was panting, a red mark on his arm. Then, he remembered something.
-Chaos is also a pattern. You just have to change the tempo.
He called time-out.
-They are two seconds ahead of us. If we slow down the pace with long moves, and cut off
With safe passes, we force them to think. They don't think. They just react.
Daichi nodded.
-To the field.
What followed was a lesson in patience. The Falcons slowed down. Haruki asked for five, six
passes before attempting a shot. They changed the point of attack constantly. Kirisaki began to
doubt. To make mistakes. To protest to the referee. To lose its center.
Then came the counterattack.
In the third quarter, Souta took control. He led with power. Made clean blocks taking out
of the match to the most dangerous opponents. Riku regained his spark. Even the substitutes contributed
with key defenders.
And in the last minute, with a four-point lead, Haruki scored a layup between two
Defenses. It was not spectacular. It was simple. Accurate. Lethal.
The final whistle blow brought a clean victory. A victory for intelligence. By team.
That night, as he left the locker room, Souta waited for Haruki.
"We can go on taking turns," he said. One thinks, the other lashes out. What are you saying?
Haruki smiled.
-Better together than alone.
Ami joined them, and the three of them walked down the hallway of the stadium.
-And now? she asked.
Haruki looked up at the sky covered in spotlights.
-Now we are writing the next chapter.