The hallway outside the basketball clubroom buzzed with nervous energy. First-years crowded around the bulletin board, shoving and craning their necks to see the names pinned neatly on the list. The tension was thick enough to choke on—whispers turned to groans or quiet celebrations, while others stood frozen, scanning the paper as if hoping to change the outcome by sheer will.
Taro stood off to the side, calm as ever, hands stuffed in his pockets. His broad frame naturally drew attention, but his face betrayed nothing. Sharp eyes watched the chaos unfold like it had nothing to do with him.
Beside him, Ryota Watari paced back and forth like a man on trial, running a hand through his already-messy hair. "You don't look stressed at all," he muttered, throwing Taro an incredulous glance.
Taro turned slightly, watching Watari with mild curiosity. There was something vaguely familiar about the way he moved, the way his voice pitched higher when he was nervous. It wasn't until a moment later that it clicked.
Wait. He was in my homeroom, wasn't he?
The realization hit Taro with an odd mix of surprise and indifference. Had Watari been in his class this whole time? Was he one of the faces he passed every day without much thought? Taro furrowed his brow slightly, trying to remember anything about the guy's presence before the tryouts.
Nothing.
That wasn't a slight against Watari it was just how Taro had been operating. His focus leading up to the tryouts had been ridiculous every second he didn't spend getting into shape had felt useless. Everything else classes, faces, even idle conversations had been background noise to him.
"I think I performed okay. I might make it," Taro replied casually, his voice so calm it bordered on indifferent.
The group nearest to him turned to stare, their disbelief slicing through the nervous hum.
"Might?" Watari choked, whipping around to face him fully. "You were responsible for almost all your team's points, Coach talked to you specifically, and you're saying 'might'?"
Taro shrugged, perfectly straight-faced. "Eh."
The response hit the crowd like a thunderbolt. A collective gasp echoed through the hallway, and half the people around him crumpled to the ground, limbs flailing in exaggerated shock.
"Are you kidding me?!" someone yelled, clutching their head in disbelief.
Watari stumbled backward, arms flailing dramatically before he caught himself on the wall. "You're impossible, man!" he exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Taro while half the crowd tried to recover from their fall.
At the front of the crowd, Kaede Rukawa leaned against the wall, fast asleep despite the surrounding commission. His black hair fell messily over his closed eyes, and his head tilted back just enough to look like he might fall over at any moment.
"Think he's alive?" Watari muttered, nudging Taro lightly.
Taro glanced over, completely unfazed at first, then his expression shifted suddenly a lot more fiery, his eyes lighting up. "I'm impressed. He's like a horse. Did you know they can sleep standing up too?"
He nodded thoughtfully, his tone turning serious. "If this is a skill I can learn, I might have to ask him for some training." With a sage-like nod, he folded his arms as if deep in contemplation
Watari blinked, caught completely off guard. "Wait…what? Where did that come from?"
Right on cue, a cluster of students shuffled back from the board, leaving an opening. Taro stepped forward, his pace as unhurried as ever. Rukawa stirred just enough to push himself off the wall, blinking lazily before following without a word. Watari lingered behind for half a second, mumbling nervously to himself before darting after them.
Taro's eyes scanned the list, his gaze moving calmly over the neat rows of names. He didn't need to search for long.
First String
Taro SugimotoKaede RukawaRyota Watari
There it was. Clear as day.
He let out a small nod and a small grin, no fist pump, just quiet acknowledgment. This was confirmation.
"You made it," Watari breathed beside him, his voice shaking slightly, like he couldn't believe the words even as he said them. "We… we actually made it."
His wide eyes darted between Taro and the list, as if needing to double-check it wasn't some kind of mistake. "Holy crap, we made it."
"Yeah," Taro said simply, still looking at the list as if committing it to memory.
Further down, another section caught Taro's eye.
The words "Practice Squad" were bolded, standing out like a dividing line between success and something just short of it. Below, a collection of familiar names from the tryouts filled the space—players who had shown flashes of skill but hadn't quite made the cut.
It wasn't a rejection, though. Coach had made that clear with the note scrawled beside it in firm, almost defiant handwriting:
"This is not a demotion. It's an opportunity. Work harder. Prove yourself."
The message carried weight, like Coach's voice booming in their heads. This wasn't where their story ended. It was where it started. For the players listed there, it was a challenge a chance to earn their way up, to fight for something more.
Taro lingered on the words for a moment, recognizing the intent behind them. Coach wasn't giving them an excuse. He was giving them a choice.
The hallway outside the basketball clubroom had finally quieted. The earlier chaos of first-years scrambling to see the list had faded, leaving only three players behind, the first stringers. The list had been clear: Wait here.
The silence stretched, heavy with anticipation, until it was shattered by the sharp, clipped voice of Rin Tohsaka. She appeared suddenly at the clubroom door, her expression as stern as ever. "You three!" she barked, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. "Inside. Now."
Watari jumped at the sound. "What's with the drill sergeant energy?" he whispered.
"She's always like this," Taro replied, deadpan. "It's part of her charm."
Rin's sharp blue eyes locked onto Taro immediately, her face tinged red. "What was that, Sugimoto?"
"Nothing," he said with a straight face. "I'm just impressed by your leadership."
Rin stood by the door, glaring at the trio with her usual mix of authority, irritation and some embarrassment. "Hurry up," she snapped, looking pointedly at Them. "Coach is waiting, and I don't have time to babysit you three."
Taro and Watari started moving, but Rukawa remained slumped against the wall, head tilted back, eyes still closed.
"Is he… still asleep?" Watari whispered, peering at him warily.
Rin huffed, not bothering to walk over. "Watari, wake him up."
"What? Me?" Watari blinked, pointing at himself in disbelief. "Why me?"
"Because you're closest, and I said so," Rin replied, her glare leaving no room for argument.
Watari groaned, rubbing his face. "I'm going to regret this…"
He leaned forward and gave Rukawa's shoulder a hesitant shove. "Hey, Rukawa, wake up. We've got to….."
Bad idea.
Rukawa's fist shot out like a reflex, narrowly missing Watari's head. Watari stumbled backward with a strangled yell, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"What the hell!" Watari shrieked, hands flying up defensively.
Taro, stepping forward calmly, caught Rukawa fist before the punch could fully extend. "Careful. He's fragile."
Rukawa's cold blue eyes cracked open, blinking slowly as if still waking up. He glanced at Taro holding his fist and then at Watari, who looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"...Hm," Rukawa grunted before back to sleep against the wall.
Taro didn't miss a beat. He grabbed Rukawa arm with one hand and started dragging him along the floor towards the door.
Watari stared, still wide-eyed. "You….he….he swung at me! Like full-on tried to punch me!"
Taro shrugged. "You startled him. Next time, don't be so threatening."
"Threatening?!" Watari squawked, voice pitching higher.
"Move it," Rin snapped, holding the door open with a scowl. "Sugimoto, stop dragging him like that!"
Taro didn't stop. "It's faster this way."
Rukawa, half-awake in Taro's grip, muttered, "I can walk."
"You're not convincing anyone," Taro replied evenly, hauling him through the door.
Rin pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly trying to maintain her composure. "I swear, you're all like children," she muttered, though her tone lacked any real bite.
Taro glanced back at her, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Careful, you're starting to sound like you care."
Rin's cheeks reddened slightly as she snapped, "I don't! I just don't want Coach blaming me when you three act like idiots."
Watari, trailing behind, threw his hands up in exasperation. "Why am I getting lumped in with them?" he half-yelled, his voice cracking slightly before he shrank under Rin's glare, muttering, "I didn't even do anything…"
The moment Taro hauled Rukawa through the door, Watari stepped inside and froze mid-step. His mouth fell open as his wide eyes darted around the room.
"This… is insane," Watari whispered.
The room wasn't huge, but it felt packed—overflowing with character and history. A large wooden table sat squarely in the center, surrounded by mismatched sofas that looked far more comfortable than they had any right to be. It was the kind of room that felt lived in, like a well-kept secret.
On the far wall, a modest TV perched on a basic stand, flanked by stacks of DVDs and tapes labeled in messy handwriting. Above it, framed jerseys were carefully displayed, each signed and under glass. Names like Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, Hakeem Olajuwon, and Shaquille O'Neal were up there.
In the corner, a Lego Millennium Falcon and some other legos sat proudly on a low shelf. Watari froze mid-step, his jaw dropping as he took it all in. "This… is insane."
"This is my sanctuary," Coach Hurley's voice rang out from one of the sofas.
The three turned to find him lounging comfortably on the far side of the room, his sleeves rolled up and one arm draped casually over the backrest. He gestured lazily toward the sofas across from him.
"Sit down and relax," he said simply. "This is the basketball clubroom, but I and my players have dubbed it the Weirdo Room."
Taro dropped into the center sofa, Watari followed hesitantly, still glancing around in disbelief.
Rukawa, predictably, had his priorities straight. The moment he was pulled into the room, his half-lidded eyes had zeroed in on the sofas like a hawk spotting its prey.
Without a word or any hesitation, he took a running start and launched himself into the air, diving toward the most comfortable-looking sofa like aprofessional high diver aiming for the water.
He landed face-first with a muffled thud, his limbs sprawling out lazily across the cushions as if he were melting into them.
Watari froze mid-step, mouth agape. "Did he just….? He dove into it!"
Taro, already seated calmly, looked over at Rukawa, completely unfazed. "Good choice. That one does look the softest."
Rukawa didn't respond. He was already motionless, his face buried in the pillow like he'd transcended into a higher state of existence.
Rin, standing by the door, let out an audible groan. "You've got to be kidding me. He's not allowed to sleep now"
Taro tilted his head slightly. "Looks like he is"
Rin shot him a sharp glare. "Sugimoto, do something!"
Taro shrugged, leaning back into his sofa. "Didn't you guys tell him to relax? That's literally what he's doing."
Watari, clearly horrified, pointed accusingly. "That's not relaxing! That's sleeping!"
Rin, her face red with irritation, marched toward Rukawa. "Rukawa! Get up! This is a team meeting, not nap time!"
Rukawa let out a muffled groan, his voice barely audible. "Five more minutes…"
Taro watched the chaos unfold with a faint twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth. "He's committed. I respect that."
Hurley let the silence settle for a beat before continuing, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched their reactions. His tone turned more serious. "This room isn't just for meetings and film sessions. It's for you, all of you. My players." His sharp blue eyes scanned them, lingering on each of the three.
"If you ever need to talk, need help with something, or just want a place to relax and get your head straight, this room is open. Always."
Watari blinked, clearly surprised. "Seriously?"
Hurley smirked faintly. "Yeah. I've been where you are. Sometimes you need a break, sometimes you need someone to listen, and sometimes you just need to sit and stare at a wall for a while. That's what this place is for. You respect it, and it'll serve you well."
Rukawa mumbled something incoherent about love into the armrest.
"Thanks for your input, Rukawa," Taro said, deadpan, earning a quiet snort from Watari.
Coach shot Rukawa a look, his smirk faint but amused. "Sometimes the game takes more out of you than you expect. When that happens, use this place for what it's meant to be—a break, a reset."
The room settled into a quiet stillness, the weight of Coach's words hanging in the air. Taro's gaze wandered, taking in the cluttered charm of the space, the jerseys on the walls, the photos of legends, the scattered mementos, and apparently a fridge in the corner he hadn't noticed before.
Watari, meanwhile, leaned back in his seat, his earlier tension easing as he let out a low sigh, finally starting to take in the room's atmosphere. "This place is… something else," he muttered, half to himself.
"Alright," Coach said suddenly, breaking the moment with a sharp clap of his hands. The shift was instant and almost jarring, his tone snapping from caring mentor to commanding general in the blink of an eye. "Now that you've seen it, let's talk about how you're going to earn staying here."
Coach Hurley leaned forward, his sharp gaze sweeping over the trio. "You three are first string now, and you've earned it, but being here isn't enough. You're going to get better, and I've got specific training plans for each of you."
Watari straightened nervously. "Specific plans?"
"Yeah," Coach replied, smirking faintly. "You didn't think I was going to let you get comfortable, did you?"
Coach turned to Taro, his sharp gaze unrelenting. "Sugimoto, your ability is extraordinary. You don't just play the game, you change it. Everyone around you becomes better just by being on the court with you. That's what sets you apart."
He leaned forward, his tone dropping, intense. "But there's more. If you unlock your full potential, your body catching up to your mind, you'll move past your current level. You'll sync with your team at a level so deep, so instinctual, that everything will click. Plays will unfold without a word, without hesitation. The court will feel like it belongs to you and your team."
Coach straightened, his voice hardening with conviction. "But getting there won't come easy. I'm going to put you through hell, conditioning, strength, endurance, until you can play a full game with the ball touching your hands on every possession, syncing seamlessly with your teammates. No shortcuts, no excuses."
That's my goal for you: to reach a level where you and your team move as one, coordinating with simply a glance or just a feeling, completely untouchable.
Taro blinked, processing the weight of the words, unaware of the heights Coach envisioned for him.
Taro's eyes widened for a split second as Coach's words sank in, he swallowed hard. For the first time, a flicker of hesitation broke through his usually calm demeanor. Then, almost as quickly, he straightened, his expression firm. "Understood," he said, though his voice carried a subtle edge of nervous excitement.
Coach shifted his gaze to Watari, his sharp eyes narrowing. "Watari, your rhythm is your strength, but right now it's erratic, flashes of brilliance followed by chaos. We're going to fix that. Ball-handling drills, decision-making under pressure, sharpening your shot. I'll break you down and rebuild you as a real point guard."
Watari froze, his face stiffening as he swallowed audibly. "B-Break me down…?" he repeated, his voice quieter, like he wasn't sure he wanted clarification. He sat up straighter, trying to look composed, but the nervous flicker in his eyes gave him away. "Uh… Got it, Coach."
Finally, Coach turned to Rukawa, who was sprawled across the sofa as if he were part of the furniture. "Rukawa!" he barked, his voice rising sharply, demanding attention and cutting through the room like a whip.
At the sound of his name, Rukawa shot up abruptly, his body moving with surprising fluidity. His half-lidded blue eyes blinked once before sharpening with focus, the kind that only came when basketball was involved. His posture straightened, the casual air replaced by quiet determination.
Hurley's sharp blue eyes met his, unblinking. "Your talent is undeniable, Rukawa, but talent isn't enough. Basketball isn't a one-man show, it's about control, trust, and knowing when to rely on your teammates."
Rukawa's gaze didn't waver, his focus razor-sharp now.
"If you keep playing like you're fighting the game instead of mastering it," Hurley said firmly, "you'll burn out before you ever come close to touching your ceiling."
The room was silent as Hurley's words settled. Rukawa's expression remained stoic, but the fire in his eyes was unmistakable.
Coach Hurley straightened, his sharp gaze sweeping over the trio one last time before relaxing into the sofa again, his aura completely changing. "That's it. You've got practice with the rest of the first string after school today. Be ready. They're not going to go easy on you just because you're new."
Watari sat up a little straighter, clearly feeling the weight of those words. Taro gave a calm nod, his expression unreadable.
Rukawa, on the other hand, let out a faint grunt and, predictably, laid back down on the sofa. Rin froze mid-step on her way out of the clubroom, her jaw tightening as she stared at him. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Sleeping," Rukawa replied flatly, eyes already half-closed.
Taro looked over, mildly impressed by Rukawa's ability to fall asleep so quickly, but less so this time. "Not bad," he said dryly, "but I've seen better. You're not sleeping standing up anymore."
Rin spun on her heel, pointing sharply at Taro. "Sugimoto! Get him out of here! He's got class!"
Taro blinked, then exhaled a quiet sigh as he stood up. "Again?"
"Yes! Again!" Rin snapped, her face flushed with frustration. "Don't just let him lie there!"
Taro walked over to Rukawa, who was already out cold, sprawled across the sofa without a care in the world. Without a word, Taro grabbed him by the leg and gave a firm tug.
Rukawa didn't even flinch. Completely unresponsive, as he was flung off cushions like a limp ragdoll.
Taro hoisted him up effortlessly, slinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Come on," he said calmly, turning toward the door.
Rukawa remained silent, dead weight in Taro's grip, as though he hadn't noticed or cared that he was being carried away.
As they stepped into the hallway, Watari glanced at Taro, who was hauling the unconscious Rukawa over his shoulder. "Do you even know what class he's in?"
"No," Taro replied calmly. "Do you?"
"Of course not!" Watari groaned.
Taro shrugged. "We'll ask."
Watari paled. "Ask? You mean just walk into random classrooms with him like that?"
"How else are we supposed to find it?" Taro replied, looking at Watari as though he was the one being unreasonable, already heading toward the first door.
Before Watari could protest, Taro knocked once, stepped halfway inside, and gestured to Rukawa's limp form. "Is this his class?"
The room went dead silent as every head turned to stare, eyes wide with disbelief. After a long, uncomfortable pause, someone finally blurted out, voice wavering, "D-Did you… kill him?"
Taro blinked, looking back at them with mild confusion, as if they were the strange ones. "No. He's sleeping."
The silence stretched again, the students exchanging bewildered glances.
"Uh… not his class," someone finally muttered, sounding completely thrown off.
"Thanks," Taro said simply, nodding like this was the most normal exchange in the world. He turned back to Watari, who looked ready to faint. "Not this one."
Watari gawked at him, whispering frantically, "How are you acting like the normal one right now?!"
Taro shrugged, completely unbothered. "I'm not the one asking dumb questions."
"he would have gone white if he was… dead, you know?"
He paused, glancing at Rukawa, who was already pale from the start. His calm expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of panic crossing his face.
"Wait… he is really pale," Taro muttered, shifting Rukawa slightly.
Watari's eyes widened in horror. "Don't say that! Is he actually—?!"
Taro quickly pressed a hand against Rukawa's chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. "Nope. Still alive."
He adjusted his grip on Rukawa, his calm demeanor snapping back into place as if nothing had happened. "See? Told you. Sleeping."
Watari groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I can't deal with you…"
After a couple more classrooms and increasingly more horrific encounters for Watari they finally found the right one.
"Yeah, that's Rukawa," a girl near the front said, pointing toward an empty desk.
Taro nodded, stepping fully into the room. Without a word, he hoisted Rukawa off his shoulder and tossed him towards his desk like a javelin. The chair screeched against the floor as Rukawa slumped over the desk, completely out cold.
Taro turned and walked back to the door, as calm as ever. "Done."
Watari peeked inside, horrified. "You threw him! You can't just, what is wrong with you?!"
Taro glanced at him, unbothered. "It worked."
Watari groaned, trailing after him as they left. "I wanted to be cool in high school…"
He glanced at Taro, who was walking ahead like nothing had happened, looking slightly proud of his "achievement." Watari let out another dramatic sigh. "Instead, I'm stuck with this."
By lunch, the rumors had taken on a life of their own, spreading like wildfire through the school. Whispers filled the hallways of a towering, ogre-like enforcer stalking the corridors, carrying a lifeless body. Leading him was a sharp-eyed, scheming yakuza boss who exuded an air of chilling authority.
"He didn't say a word," one student whispered, eyes darting nervously. "Just barged into classrooms like he was on a mission."
"And the boss," another added, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "he looked like he couldn't even believe he had to be there. Calm, cold, like the whole thing was beneath him. Didn't even flinch."
By the time the tale hit its peak, students were claiming the body had been hurled into a classroom with unsettling precision, as though it were a warning to anyone who might cross them.
Meanwhile, Taro and Watari, completely oblivious to the hysteria swirling around them, continued their day with the same unbothered demeanor, treating the entire ordeal as just another normal morning.