On Monday morning, Haruki was walking through the halls of the institute with a strange feeling.
The looks were no longer the same. Some greeted him with a nod. Other
they just looked at him as if they had just discovered that the "weird guy in the background" had a
second life.
"Nakamura!" A third-year student shouted from across the hallway. Good game on
Friday!
Haruki nodded timidly and quickened his pace. I still didn't know how to feel with all that attention.
In class, Riku sat next to him with a triumphant smile.
-See? I told you that basketball was going to change your life.
"I'm not sure if I like that much attention," Haruki murmured.
-Get used to it. You're part of the team now. And when we win the fall tournament, you'll be a
legend.
Haruki blushed and looked down. In his notebook, instead of sketches of samurai and monsters,
there were play schemes, defensive scores and court drawings. His world had
changed, and he was just beginning to accept it.
After classes, the team gathered in the gym to review the game. Coach Daichi
I had gotten the video recording and everyone sat down to watch.
"Today we are going to analyze mistakes," he said in a dry tone. I don't want egos inflated by an initial victory.
Haruki took a seat next to Ami, who had her notebook open, ready to jot.
As the video progressed, Daichi paused at key moments and pointed out flaws of
positioning, poorly made passes or disconnections in defense. When a play came in the
that Haruki missed a defensive rotation, the coach looked at him.
"This was yours." What did you see?
Haruki took a deep breath.
-I thought Souta was going to cover the angle. I positioned myself for the rebound instead of closing the pass.
Souta frowned, but said nothing. Daichi nodded.
-Good reading. But don't rely on assumptions. It reacts, but it also leads.
At the end of the session, everyone was quieter than usual. The video not only showed the
party, but its own exposed weaknesses.
Before leaving, Haruki approached Ami.
-Did you also see my mistakes?
"Of course," she said matter-of-factly. But I also saw that you were the first to correct them.
Haruki smiled slightly.
The next day, Daichi announced that he would begin preparing a new offensive strategy.
"And Nakamura is going to help me design it."
The silence was absolute.
-I?
-Yes. I'm interested to see what ideas come out of that head of yours. And the rest of the team goes to train
them. Yes
work, we implement them. Otherwise... you go back to running laps in the gym.
Haruki swallowed. I didn't know if it was a punishment or a recognition.
Souta did not take long to approach during the break.
-Don't think that by making a couple of three-pointers you are already the brain of the team.
"I don't think so," Haruki replied calmly. But if I can help win, what's the problem?
Souta was silent for a few seconds before leaving. I wasn't used to it
someone would answer him with such confidence without having to raise his voice.
That afternoon, Haruki and the coach stayed after training. Ami also stayed,
As always, in the corner with his notebook.
"Very well," Daichi said. You have an hour. Show me something we haven't seen before.
Haruki drew. Calculated. He adapted plays from anime, from professional matches, and mixed them with
real team movements. When he finished, he had four schemes ready.
Daichi watched them closely. Then he smiled, barely.
-Tomorrow, we will try them.
Haruki felt something profound change inside him. He was no longer just part of the team. Now
influenced him.
And as Ami glanced at him sideways with an expression he hadn't seen before, he knew he was
starting to write a story that not even in his favorite manga could he have imagined.
The training sessions that week were different. Haruki, who until recently felt like
an intruder on the court, he was now an observed figure. Not only for his teammates, but for the
own coach. The plays he had designed were put to the test, and to his surprise,
many worked.
"This formation allows you to open up spaces for the full-backs," Haruki explained, pointing to the
slate-. Riku enters falsely, drags two defenders, and Souta is free for the short shot.
-What if the opponent has personal marking? Souta asked, his arms folded.
"Then we switch to this one," Haruki replied without hesitation, drawing a variant with
Zigzag movements.
The team muttered to each other. Even the most veteran players were starting to pay attention to him.
It wasn't the kind of strategy they were used to following, but it made sense. And the most
strange... Worked.
Coach Daichi, without saying a word, watched everything. Every time Haruki spoke, his eyes
they sharpened like those of someone who recognized talent when he had it in front of him.
"We're going to use your scheme in the next game," he finally said, after the last training session of the
Friday.
Haruki blinked. Seriously?
"I want to see if you can sustain your idea under pressure.
That Saturday, they faced one of the toughest teams in the region: the Kaibara Institute. High
fast, with a reputation for intimidation. Rumors said that they trained with former players
Professional.
In the dressing room, the atmosphere was tense. Souta tied his sneakers tightly. Riku spoke little.
Haruki mentally reviewed every play.
"Trust yourself," Ami whispered as she handed him the bottle of water. Your mind already played this game a
hundred
times.
Haruki looked at her. Assented. It was true.
The whistle blew and the game began. The first minutes were difficult. Kaibara was fast, almost
as if they read the plays before they happened. But when Haruki asked for the first formation
Special, everything changed.
They used the lateral distraction movement, opened up the opposing defense, and Souta scored with ease.
Then Riku stole a pass thanks to a coordinated pressure that Haruki had planned. The
scoreboard was balanced.
The rival coach called time-out after time-out. They were bewildered. ¿Who was that
That number 11 that seemed to move the whole team like it was on a chessboard?
In the second half, Haruki was substituted for a few minutes. He sat down next to Ami on the bench,
Panting.
"Your schemes have them crazy," she said with a smile. What you see on the court... Not all
You can see it.
"It's like a manga," he replied laughing. Each player has a role. I just have to
narrate it well.
Kaibara responded strongly in the last minutes. Their star, a point guard named Renji, was a
prodigy. He dribbled with a speed that Haruki could barely follow. But Haruki didn't try
match it in speed. Instead, he studied their patterns. Where I looked before I passed, how I looked
leaned before changing direction.
With a minute to go, with the score tied, he intercepted a key pass and assisted Riku for the
decisive layup.
The gym erupted in cheers. Haruki fell to his knees, exhausted. Souta came over, helped him
get up and patted him on the shoulder.
-Good reading, strategist.
It was the first time she had called him for anything other than an insult.
That night, as they walked home under a clear sky, Riku broke the silence:
"I've never seen you like this. Not even when you binge anime.
"Neither do I," Haruki replied. But I like it.
"And Ami?"
Haruki shrugged.
-I do not know. But... I think it's also in history.
Riku laughed.
-I hope that's the happy ending of your arc.
Haruki looked up at the sky.
-I'm only in the second chapter.
The following Monday, the school was revolutionized. The unexpected victory against Kaibara had
echoed in the corridors. Several teachers congratulated the team. Even some students who
They were never interested in the sport, they began to ask about the next matches.
But Haruki wasn't comfortable with the attention. After class, he took refuge in the library.
There, among dusty shelves and forgotten books, he could breathe freely. As I leafed through
A book on geometry applied to sport, a familiar voice surprised him.
"So here you are hiding.
It was Ami. He had his backpack on his shoulder and a folder under his arm.
"I'm not hiding... I'm just processing everything," Haruki said, closing the book.
"You're like a slice of life protagonist," she said, sitting down next to him. You've got talent,
but you still doubt yourself.
Haruki laughed softly.
"And you are the wise voice that pushes him forward."
Ami looked at him, amused.
"I'm not wise. I just watch. Like you, but from off the field.
There was a pause. Comfortable silence.
"Sometimes I feel like this doesn't belong to me," Haruki said quietly. That at any moment they will go
to discover that I'm not a real player.
-And what is a real player? Ami asked.
Haruki was slow to respond.
-I suppose someone who has trained all his life for this.
"Then they're overrated," she replied with a smile. Because you do it from the soul. And
that is worth more.
The next day, during training, the coach presented a surprise.
"We're going to invite a former professional player to evaluate some of you," he said.
We need an outside perspective.
The news struck like lightning. Many began to speculate who it would be.
"They say he's a former point guard on the college team," Riku said. If true, we are
talking about another level.
That afternoon, Haruki practiced on his own again. The gym was almost empty. Each boat of the
The ball resounded like a heartbeat. I sweated, I made mistakes, I corrected, I tried again. Not because they
forced him.
Because something in him wanted to do it right. I wanted to be worthy of being on that court.
And just as he was making his last three-pointer, a voice interrupted him:
-Nice shot. But the feet should be a little more open.
Haruki turned and saw a tall man, wearing a sports jacket and sharp eyes. Coach Daichi
Accompanied.
"Meet Takuma Senda," said the coach. He was the best point guard I ever saw in my life.
Takuma held out his hand.
-You are the famous number 11. The otaku strategist.
Haruki smiled shyly.
-I try to be useful...
"Do you know what you have that others don't?" Takuma said. Hunger. And that is not trained. It is only born.
During the week, Takuma observed the training, gave advice, corrected movements. But
with Haruki, he stopped longer. He analyzed it as if he were trying to decipher a hidden code.
-Your mind is fast. "Faster than your feet," he told her one day. So you have to make your body
Follow the rhythm of your brain.
Based on exercises, repetitions, and a personalized plan, Haruki began to move better. Their
legs responded more nimbly. His reflexes were more accurate. And his confidence grew.
One night after training, Takuma called him aside.
"You've got something special, boy. Don't waste it looking like others. Improve your style.
Refine what makes you unique. Because that's where your strength lies.
Haruki listened to him as if receiving a mantra.
"Thank you, really.
"And by the way," added Takuma. Keep an eye on the girl in the notebook. It has more influence on
your game of what you believe.
Haruki laughed, nervously.
"I've already noticed it..."
The following Friday, the team had a special training session: an internal match under conditions
Tournament simulations. The gym was closed to the public. Just the team, the coach, Takuma
and Ami were witnessing the event.
Daichi divided the players into two balanced groups. Haruki was on the opposite team to
Souta. From the beginning, tension was in the air.
The first minutes were tough. Souta marked it more harshly than usual. Every time
Haruki tried a pass, Souta intercepted or pressed physically.
"Is that all you have, strategist?" Souta whispered after stealing the ball.
Haruki gritted his teeth. He remembered Takuma's words. "Refine what makes you unique."
In the next attack, Haruki did not force the play. Waited. Observed. Read. Suddenly, the
rhythm with an impossible pass between three defenders. Clean point.
Souta frowned.
The match continued. Haruki didn't need to outage Souta physically. I just had to understand.
Every movement, every tick, every pattern. In the end, the score was close, but his team won.
When he finished, Haruki collapsed on the ground, exhausted. While drinking water, he felt a shadow
above. It was Souta.
"I don't like you," he said bluntly. But I recognize that you are part of the team.
Haruki looked up, surprised. Souta held out his hand.
-Let's not let our guard down. The fall tournament is real. There are no second chances there.
Haruki nodded and shook his hand.
That night, Ami found him on the terrace of the institute, contemplating the lights of the city.
"I saw you today," he said, coming closer. You didn't just play well. You played with mettle. With vision. As a
true leader.
Haruki scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the compliment.
-I don't know if I'm a leader...
"You are," she said. Because you inspire without the need to impose yourself.
Haruki was silent. Then, he looked at the horizon.
-Do you think I really have a chance in this tournament?
"I think you're already taking advantage of it," Ami replied. And no matter what, I want you to know something.
Haruki looked at her.
-What?
Ami moved a little closer.
Never underestimate the power of someone who plays with the heart.
The wind blew gently. Haruki closed his eyes for a moment.
And in that instant, he knew that his story was not a fantasy written in ink. It was real. She was alive. And
every day, every play, every word... it was just another page.
The chapter did not end with a victory. Not even with a confession. It ended with a promise
Silent.
That of moving forward, no matter what comes.