After the mess Rin made, the director postponed the rest of the shoot. Tatsuya's agent made the subtle suggestion Kaho not accompany him next time, and although Kaho wanted to point the finger solely at Rin, she had also dropped a slushie on the rink. She'd made a mess too.
She'd refused to go to dinner, and avoided all lines of questioning about the date all night and for the morning. But not without Mariah's lack of trying.
It was third period. And the teachers were moving between their classrooms, giving the students five minutes of respite to stretch their legs, talk, and check their emails. Naseru had put his headphones back in, like he always did. He closed his eyes.
Kaho turned around in her seat. Mariah had been asking her about Tatsuya and their date, but movement in her periphery caught Kaho's attention. Ryota had left his corner of the classroom and strode over, a face like thunder. He loomed over Naseru's seat.
"Wake up, coward," Ryota hissed.
Naseru, headphones on and seemingly asleep, didn't budge. Ryota wore and grabbed Naseru's collar, jerking him up. With lightning speed, Naseru caught Ryota's wrist, making him wince.
"Looking for a fight, muscle head?" Naseru's voice dripped with disdain.
Kaho scrambled to her feet. But Mariah launched over her desk and pulled Kaho back, holding her hand Kaho's mouth, "I'm sick and tired of Ryota's bitching. Let him handle this."
Kaho prised her tongue from between her lips and did the childish think, licking her friend's fingers like a dog. Mariah raised her eyebrows.
"What are you, five?"
Kaho squeaked.
"You don't deserve to sleep. Not after making a promise to a woman and not keeping it," Ryota spat.
Naseru's face darkened. "What's it to you?"
"It's about honour! About being a man of your word. Everyone's heard about your little challenge with Kaho. Show some respect."
Everyone knew? Was she not imagining the whispers then? She had been convinced that she'd heard people saying her name, mentioning her game, but it didn't make any sense.
Kaho muffled a protest, but Mariah held firm. Kaho felt sick, and not just from the acidic taste of Mariah's hand cream. Evidently the childish approach had consequences. She ran her tongue over her molars, scraping the taste from her tongue. But, despite her discomfort, her eyes were on Ryota.
She hadn't seen him so irate in forever. Not since he'd been fouled for tripping over his undone shoelaces in middle school and colliding with Eiji, who'd been on the opposite team. Eiji made the winning shot. And gained a well-meaning friend for life. But that didn't take away Ryota's anger about being fouled for being clumsy. Basketball is a contact sport. Sometimes people fall. That doesn't mean foul play was taking place! If Kaho asked them now, Eiji would say falling in that match was the best thing that happened to him. Ryota would agree. And then declare Eiji didn't deserve the free throw. Then declare he needed to touch up the blond in his hair. Just for some extra oomph. It was always a sore spot for Ryota.
But this, this was something else. Entirely different and full of a whole new level of rage. Kaho swallowed the lump in her throat. She hadn't gone to practice, she'd gone on her date with Tatsuya, and evidently, Naseru hadn't attended either.
"I'll tell you what... You took Kaho on and you lost but you weren't that serious, That much is clear. You're embarrassed you were beaten by a girl who hasn't played for real in forever. How about we change the rules. Face me. If you can win then you can back out of the promise. But if I win, you join the team as a bench warmer. All I have to do is score five points. Every shot is worth one point. Dunk, jump, threes. They're all worth one today and if I score five points, I win.
"Consider this me reiterating your end of the bargain," Ryota said, "Come to practice tonight."
"You're barking up the wrong tree princess" Naseru said, "But, whatever. Alright. I'll come to the gym. Only to prove you wrong.".
Ryota didn't go and practice during lunch with Yuta and Eiji like he usually did. Instead, he spent his lunch break being mobbed by upperclassmen, jostling him and begging for him not to screw it up. Kaho spent her lunch glaring across the table at him. This could have been resolved without being rude and grumpy. Naseru was probably just being proud or stubborn.
The third years usually lurked around the gym, but they had commandeered a table in the outdoor seating area too, long legs splayed out in all directions. Fumiko, the manager, was distinctly absent from the table, but Kaho figured she had better things to do than hang out with the basketball team considering her boyfriend was on the volleyball team.
Matsushita standing over Kaho's table, spinning Ryota's neon pink basketball on his finger. Kaho watched the ball rotate and pursed her lips. She fought the urge to snatch the ball from Matsushita and hurl it onto the roof of the next building, as if it could rid them of the problem in its entirety.
Kaho sighed and sipped her water, running a hand through her hair. Kikiyo was talking about her siblings and how Ichigo especially was looking forward to the move. But her words were going through one ear and out of the other.
"Hey," Captain Hirano said, tapping Kaho on the shoulder, "Can we talk?"
Kaho nodded, scrambling out of her seat, leaving her unfinished bento and school bag wedged between Mariah and Kikiyo.
"Tanaka from Muraniko sent me a video last night of someone who looks a bit like Matsuoka," Captain Hirano said, "And he's playing basketball against a kid who looks a bit like you."
Kaho's eyes widened, "Okay?"
"And I think," Hirano said, "Ryota's going to struggle."
Kaho sighed and nodded, "Something the guys who were on the court said was that Matsuoka might have been going easy on me."
Hirano nodded and passed her his phone. She peered at his screen, dozens and dozens of comments declaring Kaho had only won because Naseru had gone easy on her. Equally, a fair few accused Naseru of being bad at basketball since he'd been bested. Kaho furrowed her brows and handed Hirano his phone back.
"I think Ryota needs to be really reigned in tonight…"
When the final lesson of school ended, Eiji and Yuta all but dragged Ryota from the classroom, whooping and cheering. The anticipation for the match up had been bubbling throughout the afternoon and Kaho was surprised she hadn't burst into flames. Naseru, however, seemed nonplussed by the development.
"Hey," Makoto said, "Matsuoka, do you want to have someone…"
Naseru scowled, "Do what you want."
He left the classroom without another word, leaving everyone staring after him.
Makoto sighed, his gaze flickering from Hikaru to Kaho.
"The club won't fizzle out and die if you're a bit late, you know," Hikaru said, elbowing Makoto in the ribs, "He's your friend, you should support him in his er- not wanting to join the team? That's what he wants, right?"
Makoto shook his head, a small, fond, smile on his face, "Don't let him hear you call him my friend. I don't think he wants any."
Hikaru laughed, "See you in a bit."
Makoto and Hikaru bumped fists and Hikaru made his way out into the hall.
Kaho sighed and looked to Makoto, "Come on then, let's see how this all plays out."
Makoto shrugged, "What do you want to happen, Kaho?"
"I want… I don't know… I want the team to have him there, they seem really keen on him, but Ryota…"
Makoto shook his head, "It must be really hard. We both know how hard he works. But I want Matsuoka to be able to decide for himself, you know?"
Kaho nodded, picking up the pace. She didn't want to watch Naseru and Ryota's clash but she certainly didn't want to miss it either.
When she arrived in the doorway of the gym, the team were already dressed, and warmed up, doing the first of many drills. Fumiko was blowing a neon pink whistle and writing notes on her clipboard. She looked up at Naseru for a moment, her eyes wide and thoughtful, before she forced herself to look away. She sighed.
The boys were stood in a line, doing a shooting drill, each tossing a ball one at a time at the basket, while Taiga retrieved them and dumped them back in the trolley. Kaho and Makoto lingered in the doorway with Naseru.
"What a bunch of clowns," Naseru muttered.
"Hey!" Ryota said, "Where do you think you're going? Backing down from a challenge?"
Naseru sighed and shrugged off his blazer. He tossed it aside in a heap by the exit. Ryota bounced his neon pink ball and passed it to Hirano, who sighed and looked from Kaho to Ryota to Naseru.
The rest of the team flocked around the edges of a half court, ready to watch the showdown. Taiga and Fumiko collected the abandoned basketballs from where the team had dropped them, all too enthralled by the anticipation.
The tension was palpable, and the stench of sweat was putrid and heavy. The team shared silent prayers. Matsushita began to chant Ryota's name, punctuating it with a little moonwalk and a robot. He looked ready to leap to the floor and do the worm when Konishi grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him back to the courtside.
"Not now, Hisashi," Konishi muttered, elbowing him in the ribs.
Hirano and his vice, Sunada shared a glance, neither looked enthusiastic about Ryota's odds. Makoto, Naseru's sole supporter lingered alongside them, his fingers crossed. Kaho sighed. She understood his outlook, she truly did, but she wanted the team to succeed so Taiga could succeed, so everyone could succeed. Was that selfish?
Kaho caught Sunada's eye, and his usual impassive expression shifted, for just a moment into that smug smirk. He had faith. He had faith in Ryota whether he wanted to say it or not. It lightened her heart just a bit.
Hirano stuck his fingers between his lips and whistled, drawing Ryota and Naseru to attention. While Ryota was braced and ready for the tip-off, legs shoulder width apart and hunched slightly lower for added power, Naseru stood up straight.
"Five baskets. Any shot is one point, regardless of its true game value," Hirano said.
Hirano tossed Ryota's neon pink ball in the air. The tip-off. And so, the face-off commenced.
Ryota caught the ball, and dribbled the ball sleekly, that same magnetic faith he had that the ball would collide with just the right spot on his hand that he always had. For a moment, Kaho wondered whether it was unfair to play with Ryota's ball, as if the surface would be distinctly compatible with his skin. She shook her head.
Naseru didn't look concerned, his blocking was confident, almost nonchalant.
Ryota made his first move, trying to get past Naseru, he picked up the pace and tempo, going faster and then slower, with movements that made Kaho think of the inflatables outside of car dealerships, all arms. It was like his yoyo dribble but more outlandish, more malleable, like no part of him was solid. And yet, despite the style, and technique, Naseru moved, shuffling each step in a similar rhythm, his eyes weren't on the ball, but on Ryota's. It was like he was trying to break through and see into Ryota's mind.
Ryota pivoted backwards on his left leg and spun on his toe with a clear lack of grace and an audible squeak. He tossed the ball toward the basket and Naseru blocked the shot. The gym echoed with collective gasps. Naseru merely smirked, while Ryota's eyes burned with renewed determination.
"Don't get cocky," Ryota muttered, catching the ball as it ricocheted off Naseru's arm.
This time, Ryota tried a different tactic. He passed the ball to Matsushita, who quickly relayed it to Sunada. It was a diversion. While Naseru's eyes followed the ball, Ryota charged to the basket and, with a tremendous leap, slammed the ball in for his first successful point. The team erupted in cheers.
"One down!" shouted Michio, his voice full of excitement.
Naseru narrowed his eyes, "This is a one-on-one. That little manoeuvre renders the point null."
"You crying?" Ryota laughed, throwing the ball to Hirano for another tip-off.
The game got more heated, Ryota had been practising, that Kaho could tell. There was a new, impressive energy to each step he took with that ball in his hands. it was like he was becoming someone new, someone who had a bag of tricks, a bottomless pit of skills. Ryota scored his first accepted point after a repetitive series of feints, veering left then right then right again, left, then backwards so Naseru didn't expect when Ryota veered backwards for the ball to bounce so hard behind him that it formed an impressive arc and skittered around the hoop. When it landed, Eiji and Yuta were shaking each other by the shoulders, cheering wordlessly, a chorus of elation.
The second had been a failed dunk and subsequent set shot rebound. Simple. Classic. And the third successful point was a three. Naseru didn't seem concerned, but with every point Ryota gained, the basketball team grew more jubilant. Makoto and Kaho were quiet, spectating with their fingers crossed. Kaho wasn't even sure what she wanted from the match anymore, and that was fine by her.
Naseru had the ball, he was dribbling, weaving the ball between his legs and making distance across the court. He tossed it in the air, a high but shallow arc and as both he and Ryota charged to catch the self-pass, they knocked into each other, both tumbling to the ground. Makoto reached into the court first, offering Naseru his hand. He didn't take it. Meanwhile Eiji and Yuta helped Ryota to his feet. The two boys brushed themselves off. Neither had done anything to break their fall.
Ryota held his fist out for Naseru to bump. Naseru ignored it.
"He's saying no hard feelings, Matsuoka!" Eiji shouted.
Naseru didn't say anything, and Captain Hirano threw the ball in the air again, restarting the play.
With the score still at 3-0, Naseru began to show some of his own moves. He tackled the ball from behind Ryota as he prepared for a three, in a deft charge that was incredibly agile, his wide strides cut across the court in just four steps. Ryota, gracelessly tore across the court and blocked the ball as Naseru attempted a shot of his own, securing the rebound for himself. He launched it, in a similar way to a volleyball player's set, at the backboard on the other side of the court and the ball teetered along the edge of the hoop, before finally landing and bagging him his fourth of five points.
Ryota still had dozens of tricks up his sleeve, Kaho was watching him for any tell or indication of what he might dare to attempt. She'd never seen him try that previous shot before. Had he been working on that with Naoru?
Ryota's muscles were relaxed, limber, and ready for his final move. He strode across the court, dribbling the ball like a yoyo between his hands. But as he crossed into the inside, ready to dunk, Naseru's demeanour shifted. His body language tightened, his eyes narrowed, and a new focus emerged.
Ryota charged towards the basket, but this time, Naseru was right there with him. As Ryota jumped, Naseru blocked him with perfect timing. The ball went flying powerfully aside with similar force to Ryota's own backboard move. The ball collided with the wall behind Matsushita and Konoishi. Both ducked, and the ball bounced back into play. It was low, barely lifting off the ground with each bounce but it was enough. Naseru slapped the neon pink basketball and sent it careening upward again, where he could manage a confident dribble. He charged and from the outside, successfully landed a three.
The crowd was stunned into silence.
"Damn," Yamada said from further back in the crowd, standing on his tiptoes, trying to get a good look.
"What just happened?" Matsushita said, eyes wide. Beside him Konoishi shook his head.
"Wow," Ryota said, "That was cool."
"It was like that trick Ryota did in gym a few weeks back," Yuta said, leaning over to Matsushita.
If Yuta's accusation that Naseru had copied Ryota fazed either of them, it didn't show. He narrowed his eyes, that same predatory gleam on his face that Kaho had seen a few days before back on the street court. He strode backwards, and feinted to the left, pivoted to the right, and went low, like he'd dropped into a squat, and took off toward the basket, leaping to dunk, his body spinning with the grace of a dancer and the force of a hurricane. Kaho's eyes were wide, jaw slack. Was that the same move he'd used on her? It looked so different off the court than it during their game. He soared toward the basket, as if he had sprouted wings and an amused glint crossed his gaze.
"Oh my God," Hirano said, his lips curling up in a smirk, "Now that's agility."
Sunada nodded and glanced back at Ryota. He was sweating, glaring across at Naseru, dribbling his neon pink basketball along the court, like he was calculating, trying to make some kind of decision on the fly. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. He edged to the left, and Naseru followed him. Then again to the right. Naseru followed him again. A quick spin and Ryota attempted a risky three. Naseru blocked it and chased the rebound, weaving across the court in an erratic zig-zag, building momentum as he bounded to hoop and dunked again, it was like he was twirling, like he existed in some kind of dance.
Makoto whooped and cheered from the gaggle of onlookers. Kaho's eyes flickered to him for just a moment.
Ryota let out an easy breath and ran a hand through his hair, "You've been slacking off in gym class?"
Naseru handed Ryota the ball. He narrowed his eyes, and watched Naseru take his defensive stance. He hummed, bouncing the ball in his right hand and dribbling backwards toward his own hoop, like he needed even more distance between himself and his goal. Ryota switched hands, his palm striking the ball just as his feet squeaked on the floor. he turned, like he was leading the basketball in a tango or a samba, each bounce echoed by a squeak of his feet, he shuffled around and around, skittering, shuffling and squeaking toward the hoop. Naseru had stalked Ryota like he was wounded prey, ready to strike.
Kaho pursed her lips. He was stalling. Ryota was stalling. And Naseru knew it. As Ryota breached the inside, passing the three point line, Naseru struck like an adder, a vicious punch to the underside of the ball, sending it flying toward the other side of the court. Naseru had it in his hands in just three strides and dribbled toward the hoop Ryota had to defend. He grimaced and stumbled to beat him to the hoop. He came up short, and without contest, Naseru dunked again.
"They've levelled it out!" Mariah exclaimed, "Ryota come on!"
"You've got this Ryota!" Yuta exclaimed, "You've got this!"
Ryota met Naseru's eyes. The way his gaze shifted when Ryota had the ball was primal, and animalistic, like he was fighting for his territory. Ryota ran a hand through his hair and made a grasping motion to the onlookers. Eiji threw a plastic bottle into the fray and it bounced off Ryota's head, making the team snort.
Ryota opened the lid of the bottle and drank greedily, wiping his mouth on his hand, "Damn, Matsuoka. You breaking a sweat?"
Naseru didn't reply. He simply passed Ryota the ball. With every attempt Ryota made, Naseru was there, ready to receive it, intercept it, force him to try something else. He followed each change in Ryota's rhythm and tempo and watched for any changes on how his dominant hand held the ball. Ryota attempted layups, dunks, and threes, to no avail. All his tricks were rendered insufficient. Nothing worked.
"What," Ryota panted, "Is with you?"
"You," Naseru said, swatting the ball out from between Ryota's hands, "Forced me onto this court, and are making me remember events I would much rather forget."
Naseru handed the ball back to Ryota, "I gave you a head start. Made you feel comfortable. But your little tricks? They're nothing compared to what I saw in the States."
Ryota bounced the ball between his hands and went to feint left, one precise jab with Naseru's hand and the ball slipped between Ryota's palms when he turned to the right.
"You think this is some kind of game."
"This stopped being a game the moment you tried to challenge me," Naseru said darkly, he shoved the neon pink ball into Ryota's chest.