The sound of basketballs echoed across the gym like heartbeats.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The Seiryō High gymnasium was alive, but something felt missing.
Coach Shimizu's sharp whistle, his commanding voice gone.
The boys moved through warm-ups like soldiers without a commander.
Marcus wiped his forehead, glancing at the empty seat near the scorer's table.
The clipboard, the towel, the whistle all still there. But the man who usually filled that space had flown out just the night before.
A death in the family, they said. Coach wouldn't be back for two weeks.
The air felt heavier without him.
"Yo, Marcus," Yuuto called, bouncing the ball lazily between his legs. "You think Coach gonna check the footage from overseas?"
Marcus grunted, catching a pass from one of the forwards.
"He's probably watching right now. Man never misses a thing."
"Then I better not slack off," Yuuto joked, trying to sound lighthearted.
But even he could feel it the tension that came when routine broke.
