The gym smelled of sweat, rubber, and old wood, the air thick with tension and the muted roar of waves crashing far below the cliffside school. Kai Ryuusei stepped onto the court, the familiar rhythm of the basketball in his hands steadying him. Every eye in the gym turned, some curious, some wary, but no one expected what was coming.
"Five-on-five," Coach Sakamoto said, arms crossed, calm as ever. "No plays. Feel it out."
Daichi Kurogane cracked his knuckles and shot Kai a sharp glance. "Don't think you can just walk in and change anything."
Kai's gaze didn't waver. "I'm not here to change anyone. I just want to play."
"Ha!" Daichi scoffed. "You think a first-year can step in here and handle what we've been through?"
Mio Kanzaki muttered under his breath, dribbling nervously. "Maybe… he can see the game differently."
"Just don't slow us down," Toma Hayashi added quietly, shifting his weight under the basket. His voice barely carried, but Kai caught it.
Kai nodded slightly. "I won't."
The moment he moved, the world seemed to hesitate. The defender lunged, instinct screaming forward, but Kai had already shifted a fraction of a second ahead. His feet slid, shoulders dipped, and for an instant he was gone from perception—then he was past, rising lightly into the air. The signature Sky Step carried him into the lane, and the soft teardrop floated over the outstretched hands of the opposing power forward. Swish. Silence followed, heavier than applause.
Daichi landed hard, jaw tight. "Not bad… but don't think that's enough. I've faced guys like you before."
Kai's voice remained calm. "I'm not trying to impress you."
Mio glanced at Kai as he received a pass. "Hey… you really do move differently. It's like… the court listens to you."
Kai shrugged. "It just tells me where to go."
Daichi growled and charged forward, aura flaring as he activated Kurogane Drive. The floor groaned beneath his unstoppable momentum, sending two defenders skidding aside. "Move!" he barked, slamming a dunk into the rim. "Don't just stand there!"
Toma tensed, but Kai called out: "Hold your ground, Toma! Now!"
Toma planted his feet. Iron Anchor surged in his legs, absorbing Daichi's charge. The impact rattled the boards, but Toma remained steady. "I… I held it!" he shouted, astonished.
"Good! That's it!" Kai encouraged. "You've got this!"
Mio's eyes widened as he passed the ball again, still shaky. "I… I can't miss again…"
Kai met his gaze. "Trust yourself. The court knows where you need to go. Let it guide you."
He threaded a perfect pass through two defenders to Mio, and the shot went up. Swish. The ball rattled briefly on the rim before dropping clean.
"Finally!" Mio breathed, disbelief breaking into a smile. "I actually saw it before it happened!"
Daichi slammed the ball against the floor in frustration. "You're making him look good. Too good!"
Kai returned to the other end, bouncing the ball calmly. "I'm not making anyone look good. You all already can—you just have to believe it."
Daichi growled again but couldn't hide the flicker of respect in his eyes. "Hmph. Maybe you're different… first-year or not."
The scrimmage blurred into motion. Kai threaded passes and created space, Daichi's brute force shook the court, Mio's growing confidence guided each play, and Toma's newfound strength stabilized the paint.
A second-year teammate shouted, "Kai! Pass to me!"
Kai did, and the ball cut through defenders like a whisper. "Here, take it. Trust the rhythm!"
The second-year grinned, catching the ball mid-stride. "Got it! Whoa… it's like you're everywhere at once!"
Daichi growled as he tried to block the play. "I'll crush that move next time!"
Kai smirked slightly. "Next time, I'll be ready for you too."
When the final whistle blew, lungs burned and jerseys clung heavy with sweat. Silence followed, thick and almost sacred. Then Daichi broke it, scowling but not entirely angry. "You're not just playing basketball… you're changing the court."
Kai wiped sweat from his brow, voice quiet but steady. "I'm just listening to it."
Coach Sakamoto smiled for the first time that day. "Enough for today. Remember, the court reacts to those who pay attention."
Mio lingered, rubbing the back of his neck. "That pass… it felt like the ball wanted to leave my hands."
Toma nodded slowly, almost in disbelief. "And the floor… it held me."
Daichi turned away, muttering, "Tryouts tomorrow. Don't be late." Not an invitation, not a warning. Something in between.
As dusk painted the sea in burning gold, Kai returned to the forgotten court. He dribbled once, the echo of the ball mingling with the waves outside, a rhythm that didn't feel lonely this time. Something had begun to move beneath the cracks and salt-stains of the forgotten court, something that had been waiting for the right hands and the right heart to awaken it.
Kai paused, letting the ball bounce once more. "I won't just play to escape," he murmured to himself. "I'll stay… and see how far we can go."
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the court seemed to hum beneath his feet, alive, awake, and ready for the story to unfold.