The half-court under the bridge buzzed under dim fluorescent lights, their blue-white hum fighting against the rhythm of bouncing rubber and echoing shouts.
It wasn't pretty basketball — cracked concrete, crooked rim, puddles in the corners — but it was awake.
Riki drove right, crossed left, floated a jumper off the glass.
"Count it!" he barked, grinning through sweat.
Bong clapped lazily from the corner. "Bro thinks he's Curry with no shoes."
Then Teo moved — one long step, then another — reaching over two guys to grab the rebound.
He fumbled it, recovered, and dropped in the putback.
It wasn't clean, but it was loud. The rim trembled.
Riki laughed. "A little rough, skyscraper — but that's rent paid."
Bong grinned. "He dunk like the floor owes him money."
Teo blinked. "It doesn't?"
"Expression, bro," Riki said, laughing.
Overhead, a pair of footsteps echoed down the ramp.
"Drei? You seriously brought me *here*?"
Drei Reyes — hoodie up, varsity captain, the quiet one who saw patterns in motion — didn't turn.
"You said you wanted raw talent," he said. "This is where it lives."
Thea Cruz adjusted her glasses, one sneaker splashing into a puddle. Her clipboard looked like it belonged in an air-conditioned gym, not under a dripping bridge.
"I said *potential recruits*, not street-ball philosophers."
"Same thing," Drei said simply. "Watch."
Thea frowned — until she saw Teo.
He towered above everyone, awkward and broad-shouldered, trying to make his limbs obey him. His dribble was too high, his footwork delayed, but the moment he jumped, the world seemed to shrink. He wasn't graceful yet, but the force was undeniable.
"Holy—" she whispered, voice caught between awe and disbelief. "How tall is that guy?"
Riki caught her staring mid-dribble. "Seven-one," he said flatly, not missing a beat. "Why, you recruiting?"
"I—what? No!" she stammered, flushing. "I mean—yes? Maybe?! You can't *not* notice that!"
Drei smirked. "Told you."
The game rumbled on.
Teo still hesitated every other possession — passes too slow, spacing uncertain — but when Riki lobbed one sky-high, something in him just clicked.
He rose, caught, turned, and slammed it through the rim with both hands.
The echo boomed through the bridge.
The small crowd howled.
Even Thea nearly dropped her clipboard. "That—! That right there!"
Drei's voice was quiet beside her. "Flow. The kind you can't teach."
Riki jogged past, barefoot now, grinning. "Told you he had bounce."
Bong jogged over, towel around his neck. "So, uh, does this mean we're famous now?"
Thea blinked. "Who are you again?"
"Bong," he said proudly. "Local legend."
She frowned. "...Never heard of you."
"Exactly," Bong said with a smirk. "That's how legends work."
Riki snorted. Teo almost laughed.
Thea shook her head, still smiling. "You three are unbelievable."
The game ended 11–9, street rules, no mercy.
Riki's jumper sealed it — messy, perfect, and loud.
When it was done, Bong and Riki collapsed laughing on the wet concrete.
Teo stood off to the side, hands on his knees, silent — but for the first time, he didn't look out of place.
Thea approached, rain still dripping from her ponytail. "You three. Where do you even *play*?"
Riki squinted. "Here."
Bong raised a hand. "Sometimes the other bridge, if this one floods."
She exhaled. "You're joking."
Drei shook his head. "They're not."
Thea looked from Riki's smirk to Teo's quiet posture to Bong's easy grin. It was ridiculous. It was impossible.
And yet… it was exactly what she'd been searching for.
"You," she said, pointing her pen at Teo, "don't disappear. You're coming with me."
Teo frowned. "You don't even know me."
"I know potential when it smacks the rim like that," she said, smiling. "And there's a slot open at the city invitational next month — the Governor's Cup. Scout teams, college reps, cash prizes. You want in?"
Riki glanced at Bong. Bong blinked.
Under the bridge, the air suddenly felt different — bigger.
Thea adjusted her clipboard, already walking back up the ramp. "I'll be in touch. Try not to break the backboard before then."
Riki watched her go, then turned to Teo.
"Governor's Cup, huh? That's above our pay grade."
Teo looked at the hoop again, water still dripping from the rim. "Then we better get better."
Riki grinned. "Say less."
Under the bridge lights, the three of them stood — wet, exhausted, but alive in rhythm.
And somewhere between the cracked concrete and the echo of the ball, something had started moving forward.
The noise was still the same.
But now, it had direction.
End of Chapter 6 — Spark Before the Rise.