Ace of the Bench

The gym had a different soul after practice. Without voices bouncing off the walls or balls pounding the hardwood, the place felt cavernous, like an empty cathedral. Only the faint hum of the lights overhead and the squeak of Yuuto's sneakers as he shifted on the bench disturbed the silence.

He sat slumped, sweat still drying on his arms. Practice had ended thirty minutes ago, but his pulse hadn't slowed. All around him, echoes of laughter faded his teammates already gone, their chatter drifting down the hall until even that vanished.

Marcus zipped up his hoodie, bag slung over one shoulder. "Yo, you sure you're staying?"

Yuuto glanced up. "Yeah. Just a few shots."

"My dad's outside. I can give you a ride," Marcus said, tilting his phone to show the text. "He's already honking."

Yuuto looked at the court at the rim that felt farther away than it used to. He tightened his grip on the ball in his lap. "Nah. Go ahead. I'll walk."

Marcus's brow furrowed. "Don't push yourself too hard, bro. You're still recovering

."

"I know." Yuuto tried to smile. "I'll text you later."

Marcus hesitated, then gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. "Alright. Don't overdo it. Peace."

The door swung shut, and the gym swallowed Yuuto whole.

He rose slowly, the leather ball warm against his palm. The quiet pressed in, heavy. The team had looked right past him today. Even Coach's eyes had been fixed on Shun, the "new ace." Yuuto could still feel the sting of that, like a bruise in his chest.

You're invisible now. But not for long.

He bounced the ball once. The echo cracked like a gunshot.

A soft chime flickered in front of his eyes translucent, electric blue.

System Notification

You're not what you used to be.

Your strength is now your weakness.

Make your weakness your strength.

Quest: 100 Three-Pointers.

Yuuto blinked at the words, then huffed a laugh that had no humor in it. "A hundred, huh?" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Fine. Let's see if I'm still me."

He stepped to the right wing, toes brushing the arc. His form still felt familiar: knees bent, elbow in, eyes locked on the rim. He drew a slow breath and let it fly.

Clang.

The ball ricocheted off the rim and rolled toward the baseline. Yuuto chased it down, exhaling sharply. "Alright. Reset."

Second shot. Clang. Third. Miss.

It took nearly an hour to sink five.

His arms burned. His calves trembled. Sweat soaked through his T-shirt, making it cling to his back. But he refused to glance at the clock. Bounce. Set. Release.

Swish.

"Six," he muttered.

Outside, the evening had darkened into night. Ayaka was coming from practice, hair still damp from a quick shower, jacket slung over her shoulder. She slowed as she passed the gym's glass doors. Through the window she saw Yuuto, alone under the harsh white lights, still shooting.

She hesitated, then eased the door open and slipped inside. The smell of sweat and varnished wood hit her instantly. She climbed the bleachers quietly, sitting halfway up. From there she could see everything: the steady rhythm of his movements, the way his form stayed crisp even as his body sagged with exhaustion.

Ayaka rested her chin on her knees. He hasn't stopped once, she thought, eyes softening. Doesn't he ever give up?

Yuuto lost track of time. The scoreboard's digits blinked 6:17… 6:52… 7:38. He shot from the corners, the wings, the top of the arc. Miss, chase, shoot. Miss, chase, shoot. His shirt plastered to him, hands raw from the leather.

At one point he collapsed onto the bench, chest heaving. "Seven hundred…" he whispered, rubbing his knees. The system counter hovered in front of him like a silent judge: Hits: 72/100.

He looked at the rim again, jaw tightening. "No. We're not stopping."

Bounce. Set. Release.

Swish.

On the bleachers, Ayaka's phone buzzed. She muted it, eyes still on him. The steady sound of ball and net became a lullaby. Her eyelids grew heavy. Before she knew it, she'd curled sideways, cheek resting on her arm, and drifted off.

"Ninety," Yuuto muttered an hour later, wiping sweat from his brow. The system counter glowed: Hits: 92/100.

His shoulders ached like lead, but his mind was clear now, almost serene. No crowd. No coach. No Shun. Just him, the ball, and the rim.

Bounce. Set. Release.

Swish.

"99…"

He gathered the last ball, walked to the top of the key, and drew a breath so deep it felt like fire in his lungs. His hands trembled, but his eyes were steady.

"Last one."

He rose, released. The ball traced a perfect arc, kissed the rim once, and dropped through.

A soft chime rang.

Quest Complete.

Weakness into Strength… In Progress.

Yuuto dropped to his knees, laughing weakly. "One step at a time…"

He stayed there for a moment, listening to his heartbeat pound in his ears. Then he gathered the scattered balls, returned them to the bag, and slung it over his shoulder.

That's when he noticed her.

Ayaka was curled on the bleachers, asleep, hair falling across her face, soft breaths rising and falling. The sight stopped him cold. She… stayed?

He walked over quietly and crouched beside her. "Hey," he said gently. "You'll get a crick in your neck sleeping like that."

Her eyes fluttered open, confused at first. Then she sat up quickly, cheeks coloring. "Oh! Sorry I didn't mean to " She pushed her hair back, embarrassed. "I was passing by, saw you practicing. You didn't stop. It was… kind of amazing."

Yuuto scratched at the back of his head, suddenly shy. "It's nothing. Just… catching up."

"It's not nothing," she said softly. "Most people would've quit hours ago."

He looked away, unsure what to say. "I guess I'm not most people."

She smiled at that, a small curve of her lips. "Clearly." She slid off the bleacher and straightened her jacket.

"It's late. You should get home" said yuuto

"Yea your right but you're not going to let me walk home alone, are you? We live close, remember?" Her voice had a playful lilt.

Yuuto blinked, caught off guard, then gave a small, awkward laugh. "Uh… yeah. Sure."

"Good." She adjusted her bag, eyes glinting despite the hour. "Then let's go."

"Yea let me just go put these balls down and grab my things out of the locker room" said yuuto.

He went and put down the ball with the balls and grab his things.

They stepped out into the night together. The cool air hit Yuuto's skin like a blessing after the stifling heat of the gym. His muscles ached, but his chest felt lighter.

Ayaka glanced at him as they walked. "You really shot a hundred, didn't you?"

He gave a shy shrug. "Something like that."

"You're crazy." She bumped his arm lightly. "But… in a good way."

He laughed under his breath. "Thanks."

They walked on, the quiet streets stretching ahead, their footsteps in sync. For the first time since his injury, Yuuto wasn't thinking only about what he'd lost. He was thinking about what he could still gain and maybe who he could share it with.