The setting sun cast long, orange shadows across the worn grass of Aria's backyard.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby oak tree, carrying with it the scent of barbecue from a neighbor's gathering.
A weathered basketball hoop, its paint chipped and faded, stood at the far end of the yard, a silent sentinel to countless hours of laughter and friendly competition.
Aria, her platinum blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, moved with a grace that defied the casual setting, dribbling the ball with effortless precision.
Her movements were fluid, a seamless blend of power and finesse, as she practiced her signature moves.
A little girl, no more than five years old, trailed behind her, mimicking her every step, her tiny hands clutching a miniature basketball.
A wide grin stretched across her face, her eyes alight with wonder and admiration.
She was Aria's younger sister, Lily, and she was already showing signs of being a natural athlete.
Belial stood at the edge of the yard, a strange mix of emotions swirling within him.
Based on the previous owner's memory, he hadn't seen Aria in years, not since they were kids, playing tag in the same backyard, their laughter echoing through the summer air.
He had always been the clumsy one, the one who tripped over his own feet, the one who couldn't catch a ball.
He was the one who had always preferred the comfort of his gaming chair and the vibrant glow of his monitor to the chaos and physicality of the outside world.
But now, he was a different person, a person with a purpose, a person with a dream. He was now Belial Scarlet, and he was determined to become the best basketball player in the world.
He cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the stillness of the afternoon.
"That's amazing, nice shot," he said, clapping his hands together.
The little girl giggled, her eyes sparkling with delight.
Aria turned, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Ehehe, thanks I guess? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion.
"Well, that's… you see, I was trying to ask you to train me again in basketball," Belial said, his voice hesitant.
He felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him.
He had always been the one who doesn't like basketball, the one who shied away from any physical activity.
He was the one who had always considered himself a complete failure when it came to anything that required coordination and physical prowess.
But now, he was here, asking for help again from the one person who had always been his polar opposite, the one person who embodied everything he lacked.
He felt a knot of fear tightening in his stomach. What if she laughed at him? What if she refused? What if he made a fool of himself?
He had always been the one who stayed in the shadows, the one who avoided attention, the one who kept his dreams hidden deep inside.
But now, he was exposing himself, his vulnerabilities, his deepest desires.
Aria's eyes widened in surprise. "Is that so? … Wait, did you get taller or something? What happened to you? I swear you weren't this tall yesterday."
Belial chuckled nervously, scratching his head. "That's… I hit my growth spurt or something." He forced a smile, hoping to mask the nervousness that was gnawing at him. "So, can I ask you to guide me on training my basketball?"
Aria's gaze shifted, a complex mix of emotions flickering across her face. "Um… that's a little difficult, maybe." She looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.
"Didn't you hate basketball? And here I was always trying to convince you to play with me."
"Oh, come on, please," Belial pleaded, his voice laced with desperation. "I'll do anything. I need to improve."
Aria sighed, her expression softening. "Wait, let me think… How about a deal? But I don't need anything for now. Maybe I'll ask you in the future."
She knew his history, his reluctance, his aversion to physical activity.
She knew how much this request meant to him, how much he was pushing himself outside his comfort zone.
But she also knew that training him would be a challenge, a test of her patience and her skills.
"Phew!, if that's what you want, then that's what you'll get. A deal it is," Belial said, forcing a grin. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease.
He knew Aria, and he knew that she wouldn't ask for something unreasonable.
But the thought of being indebted to her, of owing her a favor, filled him with a sense of unease.
He had always prided himself on his independence, on his ability to stand on his own two feet.
But now, he was relying on her, on her kindness, on her willingness to help him.
Aria nodded, her expression turning serious. "Belial, tell me… what exactly do you know about basketball?"
Belial pondered the question for a moment, his mind racing back to his previous life, to the countless hours he had spent glued to his computer screen, watching basketball games, studying the strategies, analyzing the players' movements, devouring every bit of information he could find online.
He had always been fascinated by the game, by its intricate strategies and the incredible athleticism of its players.
He had spent countless hours watching games, studying the movements of the players, analyzing their every move.
He had become a walking encyclopedia of basketball knowledge, a master of the game in theory, but a complete novice in practice.
"It's a game that is played between two teams, each consisting of five players," he said, his voice gaining confidence. "Their main objective is to score a goal by throwing a ball through the hoop."
"Each ball within the three-pointer line is awarded with two points, while the balls from outside the three-pointer line are awarded with three points instead," he continued, his voice growing more assured. "There are also free throws awarded in the case of a foul, and each free throw is awarded with one point each."
Aria nodded in satisfaction. "So far, you know about the scoring system of the game, but you have yet to learn the rules. I will cover the rules at a later date, but for now, I will teach you the five basics in basketball."
Belial's eyes widened in anticipation.
The five basics of basketball: dribbling, passing, shooting, rebounding, and defense.
He knew them all, had studied them in detail, but had never actually practiced them.
He had always been the gamer, the one who preferred to learn from online forums and U-Chube videos rather than from experience.
He had always been the one who shied away from the physical world, the one who found comfort in the world of pixels and keystrokes.
But now, he was here, facing the reality of his situation, the stark truth that he had to learn the fundamentals of the game if he wanted to even dream of becoming a player.
"While all of the five basics have their own uses, the most important basic will be dribbling," Aria said, her voice taking on a serious tone.
"Even if you could score a three-pointer or even a dunk, it doesn't matter if your dribbling is bad. Bad dribbling makes it easier for a steal to occur and can easily turn the game around if your opponent has a high steal and shooting percentage."
"Another important thing is that bad dribbling will also make for bad passes. If your teammate takes time to adapt to your bad passes, the opponent can easily steal the ball and make a quick counter," she added, her voice laced with a hint of warning.
Belial listened intently, his mind racing. He knew that she was right.
The five basics were the foundation of the game, the building blocks upon which everything else was built.
He had to master them if he wanted to even dream of becoming a player.
He had to learn how to control the ball, how to move with it, how to make it an extension of his own body. He had to learn to dance with the ball, to make it sing.
"Today, we will be focusing solely on dribbling," Aria said, holding the basketball in her hand. "After demonstrating the movements to you a few times, you will have to practice it on your own until night."
Belial's vision blurred, his heart pounding in his chest.
Practice until night? Was she serious? He had never done anything remotely close to that before.
He was a gamer, a digital nomad, a virtual warrior.
He wasn't built for this kind of physical exertion.
He was used to the comfort of his gaming chair, the gentle hum of his computer, the rhythmic click of his keyboard.
He was used to the world of pixels, the world of code, the world of virtual reality.
But now, he was here, facing a challenge that seemed insurmountable.
"This is for you to get used to the rhythm and to let your muscles slowly adapt to the motion,"
Aria said, her voice soft but firm.
"But don't worry about making any mistakes because I will be here to point them out."
Belial's mind raced, his doubts swirling within him.
He had always been the one who shied away from challenges, the one who preferred to stay within his comfort zone.
But now, he was here, facing a challenge that seemed insurmountable.
He was facing the reality of his situation, the stark truth that he had to learn the fundamentals of the game if he wanted to even dream of becoming a player.
He looked at Aria, her smile a mixture of encouragement and challenge.
He knew that she wouldn't back down, that she wouldn't let him give up.
He had to find a way to overcome his fears, to push himself beyond his limits.
He had to learn to embrace the physicality of the game, to find joy in the movement, to feel the power of his own body. He had to learn to dance with the ball, to make it sing.
He gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the grueling training that lay ahead.
The path to the strongest had to start somewhere, and he knew that he couldn't afford to waste time.
He had to make the most of this opportunity, to learn from the best, to become the player he was destined to be.
He had to learn to control the ball, how to move with it, how to make it an extension of his own body.
"Time to grind, like a fucking no lifer," he muttered under his breath, his voice filled with a newfound determination.
As Belial began his grueling training, a sense of unease settled over the neighborhood.
...
The shadows of Jingūmae stretched long and menacing, mirroring the darkness that simmered within Takamoto.
His face, usually a mask of arrogant indifference, was contorted with a simmering rage that made his eyes burn like embers.
The humiliation he suffered at the hands of Belial, a mere rookie, festered within him, a venomous wound that refused to heal.
He had vowed revenge, and he would not rest until he had crushed Belial beneath his heel.
Aoki and Goto, his superiors, stood flanking him, their faces etched with a similar mix of anger and anticipation.
Aoki, a hulking brute with a build like a bull, cracked his knuckles, a low growl rumbling in his throat.
Goto, a wiry, agile fighter, tapped his blade against his palm, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.
They had been waiting, watching Belial, observing his every move, their patience wearing thin.
They had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike, to unleash their fury upon the one who had dared to defy them.
They had been waiting for the moment when Belial would be vulnerable, when his defenses would be down, when they could finally get their revenge.
They had been waiting for the moment when they could finally break him, to crush his spirit and make him pay for his arrogance.
The air crackled with anticipation, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city.
Takamoto, his eyes fixed on the horizon, could almost taste the sweet taste of victory.
He could almost feel the satisfaction of seeing Belial crumble beneath his wrath.
He could almost hear the screams of his enemies, the cries of their defeat.
He knew that Belial was training, pushing himself to the limit, preparing for the day when he would finally face them.
But Takamoto wasn't worried.
He knew that Belial was still a rookie, a fledgling talent, a mere shadow of the player he could become.
He knew that he was still vulnerable, still susceptible to their attack, still within their grasp.
He clenched his fist, his anger burning brighter than ever.
He would not let Belial escape.
He would not let him rise above them.
He would not let him steal his glory.
He would crush him, break him, destroy him.
He would make him pay for his arrogance.
He would make him pay for his defiance.
He would make him pay for his humiliation.
The shadows deepened, the city lights began to flicker, and the air grew colder.
Takamoto and his gang remained vigilant, their eyes fixed on the horizon, their hearts filled with a burning desire for revenge.
They were waiting, their patience wearing thin, their anger simmering, their blades gleaming, ready to strike.
They were waiting for the moment when Belial would finally fall, when their revenge would finally be theirs.
They were waiting for the moment when they could finally claim their victory.
They were waiting for the moment when they could finally make Belial pay.
But at this moment, they didn't know that Belial was already on the path to becoming stronger, that he was already pushing himself beyond his limits, that he was already becoming the player he was destined to be.
They didn't know that he was about to unleash a power that would shake the very foundations of Jingūmae.
They didn't know that the Team was about to become a force to be reckoned with.