The morning sun filtered through the wide gym windows, casting long streaks of gold across the polished court. A faint mist of sweat and resin hung in the air from early warmups. The rhythmic squeak of shoes and the echoing bounce of basketballs pulsed like a heartbeat.

But something felt heavier today anticipation, maybe. Or fear.

Marcus wiped his forehead, glancing at the whiteboard Hikari had set up at the edge of the court. It wasn't the usual schedule of layup drills and half-court sets. No this one was titled in bold black marker:

"Simulated Scrimmage: Tournament Conditions."

He frowned. "Tournament conditions? Already?"

"Why wait for the real thing?" Hikari's voice carried smoothly across the gym, confident but calm, like a knife hidden in silk. She wore her black tracksuit zipped halfway, her whistle dangling against her chest. "Pressure doesn't wait until January, Captain Marcus. It begins the moment you underestimate the floor beneath you."

Marcus bit the inside of his cheek. She really loves making everything sound like a proverb.

Still, he couldn't deny her results the last two days had sharpened everyone. Even Yūto was starting to look like a real point guard.

"Alright," Hikari began, clapping once. "Today's scrimmage is not about who scores the most. It's about how you move. How you respond when things collapse."

Her sharp gaze swept across the players like a general before battle. "We'll simulate real tournament chaos broken formations, aggressive traps, mismatched rotations. You will fail. The goal is to learn how to recover faster than your opponent can capitalize."

The players exchanged uneasy glances. Even Marcus felt a twinge of pressure.

"Marcus," she said suddenly.

"Yes, Coach Aoyama?"

"You'll be leading Team A starters. Yuuto, you're running point for Team B. I want to see how both of you command your units under pressure."

Yuuto blinked, wide-eyed. "M-Me? Lead?"

"Yes. I've seen you hesitate too often. Today, you either drown or learn to swim."

Her tone was even, not cruel but the words hit like a gauntlet thrown.

The Whistle Blows

The scrimmage began at full pace.

Marcus caught the first inbound, shouting over the squeak of sneakers. "Shift left! Yuuto's leading the trap watch your spacing!"

Hikari watched quietly from the sideline, her clipboard in hand, eyes sharp as a hawk.

Yuuto dashed forward, cutting through defenders with controlled bursts. His team moved with raw energy but lacked coordination. The first play ended in chaos an intercepted pass, a fast break by Marcus, and a clean layup.

"Pause!" Hikari's whistle pierced the noise.

Everyone froze.

She walked onto the court, stopping near Yuuto. "Do you know why that happened?"

Yuuto stared down at his sneakers. "I… passed too early?"

Hikari shook her head. "You passed without reading. Your defender baited you. Your eyes told him everything you were about to do."

She motioned for him to look up. "Court vision is not just seeing it's feeling. Anticipating space, tempo, and emotion. Right now, you're seeing the game in 2D. I need you to see it in layers."

The gym fell silent except for the faint hum of the lights.

Marcus watched from midcourt, admiring how effortlessly she took control. Her voice wasn't loud, but it demanded absolute attention. Even the veterans guys who usually rolled their eyes at new authority stood straighter.

The next possession started. This time, Yuuto took a slower pace, scanning every movement before dribbling.

Marcus tested him, signaling his teammates for a switch defense. Yuuto noticed barely. He drove to the right, baited a help defender, then swung a pass to Kenji in the corner.

Splash.

Three-pointer. Clean.

The court erupted in cheers.

Hikari smiled faintly, jotting something on her clipboard. "Better. You're learning to see between the cracks."

"Now we change conditions," she announced. "Two defenders on the ball, one shadowing the passing lane. You have ten seconds to score. Go."

Yuuto's heartbeat spiked. Ten seconds?

Marcus's team jumped into an aggressive 2v1 trap. Yūto was pinned instantly Marcus in front, another player sealing off his left.

"Time's ticking," Hikari called. "Find your escape."

Sweat rolled down his temple. He pivoted, faked right, spun left, and launched a risky pass through the narrowest gap. The ball hit fingers then bounced into open space.

Kenji lunged barely saving it. But the rhythm was broken.

"Stop." Hikari's tone softened. "You panicked again."

Yuuto exhaled, shoulders slumping.

"Remember space is an illusion until you create it. You don't need to fight pressure; make it work for you. Shift tempo. Slow them down, then explode."

Marcus raised a brow. "You really talk like a poet, Coach."

She turned to him with a small smirk. "Poetry is timing, Marcus. The same as basketball."

The team chuckled. Even Yuuto cracked a nervous smile.

Then, without warning, Hikari dropped her clipboard. "Reset. Five minutes. I'll run point."

Everyone froze.

"You're… playing?" Marcus asked, half-grinning.

"I used to be one of you. Let's see if I've forgotten how to breathe fire."

She tied her hair back, pulled off her jacket, and took position at half-court.

"Team A, defend," she ordered. "And no holding back."

The whistle blew.

Hikari's movement was instant sharp, fluid, almost predatory. She crossed over Marcus with surgical precision, the ball like an extension of her pulse. Two defenders lunged she spun, slipped between them, and floated the ball high off the glass.

Swish.

The gym exploded in disbelief.

Marcus blinked. "What how ?"

She pointed to her temple. "Awareness, not power."

Then she moved again this time orchestrating passes with one hand, directing teammates with the other. Her play was… elegant. Efficient. Every step predicted three moves ahead.

The players couldn't keep up. Even Yūto was frozen, watching like a fan seeing magic for the first time.

After five possessions, she blew her own whistle and stepped back, barely winded. "That's how I earned my crown. Not by strength but by clarity."

The room went silent except for the pounding of hearts.

Marcus muttered, "No wonder they called her the Queen of the Court."

Yuuto nodded, eyes wide. "She's… unreal."

After practice, the players gathered around benches, gulping water. Hikari sat on the bleachers, towel around her neck, watching them quietly.

Marcus approached her, his voice low. "You didn't have to go that hard on us, you know."

She looked up, amused. "Would you have learned anything if I didn't?"

He shrugged. "Guess not. But… you know they all look up to you now. Even the ones who doubted you."

Her gaze softened. "Respect isn't what I want. Growth is."

Marcus frowned. "Still, it's weird. I'm captain, but it feels like you're leading everything."

She stood, stepping closer until her shadow merged with his. "Then lead with me. A king doesn't lose his throne because a queen walks beside him."

Marcus blinked, stunned. "...You always talk like that?"

She smirked. "Only on Wednesdays."

By evening, the gym was darker, the sun setting through the glass panels.

Hikari called for another scrimmage, this time rotating lineups mid-game. "In tournaments, you don't get comfort. Adaptation is survival."

This time, Yuuto was sharper. Every dribble had intention. When Marcus pressed him, he countered with a delayed burst, drawing defenders in before dishing out a no-look pass.

"Nice read!" Marcus shouted, slapping his back after the play.

Hikari watched, quietly pleased.

Then came the final possession. Tied score. Ten seconds on the clock. Yūto held the ball.

"Clock's running!" Hikari called.

Yuuto hesitated then remembered her words. Space is an illusion until you create it.

He jab-stepped, shifted tempo, then cut through a gap between Marcus and Kenji splitting the trap like a knife. Two steps, a leap, a floater

Swish.

Game.

The entire gym went silent then erupted.

Marcus grinned, walking over to ruffle his hair. "Now that's how you run point."

Yuuro smiled sheepishly. "Guess I saw it in layers this time."

Hikari clapped once, satisfied. "That's what I wanted. Remember control the rhythm, and you control the game."

The players eventually cleared out, leaving only Hikari and Marcus to tidy up.

He leaned against the wall, spinning a basketball on his finger. "You know, Coach Shimizu's gonna freak out when he hears how much we've changed."

Hikari laughed softly. "He'll be proud. That's what mentors hope for."

Marcus looked at her curiously. "When you were King of the Court… what made you stop playing?"

Her expression dimmed slightly, though her smile didn't fade. "Sometimes, you win too much and forget why you started. I didn't want to hate the game that made me."

Marcus nodded slowly. "Yeah… I get that."

She looked at him, eyes reflecting the gym's dim lights. "Do you?"

He met her gaze, then chuckled. "Maybe not fully. But I'm learning."

She smiled, a rare warmth breaking through her composure. "Then that's enough for now."

As she left the gym, the faint sound of bouncing basketballs echoed one last time Yuuto staying behind, practicing alone.

Hikari paused at the door, glancing back. His silhouette moved under the fading lights, every dribble echoing with purpose.

She whispered to herself, "The boy has fire… I just need to shape it before the storm comes."

The door closed behind her, leaving only the heartbeat of the ball and the dream of tomorrow's game.

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