Ace of the Bench

The buzzer for the end of the first quarter faded into a low murmur from the stands. The team huddled around the bench, sweat dripping, jerseys sticking to their skin. Coach Takeda crouched in front of them, eyes sharp.

"Good start," he said, voice firm but steady. "But don't get comfortable. They're rookies you're supposed to be miles ahead of them."

"I like the energy, I like the hustle, but you're making mistakes we don't make in practice. Stay sharp. Stay focused. This isn't the time to relax."

Coach tapped the clipboard with his finger. "Second quarter, we go back to what we drilled all week. Pressure defense. Smart passes. Attack the rim. We put some distance on them now, before they even think about a comeback."

He clapped once, loud enough to echo. "Lock in, execute, and break this game open. Let's go!"

The buzzer BUZZZZZZ! shrilled, signaling the start of the second quarter. Marcus inhaled, shoulders tense, eyes sweeping the court. The Seiryō team jogged onto the hardwood, the polished floor gleaming under the overhead lights. Sweat already clung to foreheads, sneakers SQUEAK-SQUEAK! in anticipation.

Across the court, the Shikoku rookies had changed. Where before they had relied on simple plays and cautious movement, now they were explosive, aggressive. Their coach had called a man-to-man defense, a bold adjustment that immediately put pressure on Seiryō.

"Man-to-man! Don't give them space!" Nishimura barked, pointing at Marcus. "Lock them down. Move your feet!"

The whistle PHWEEET! blew, and the rookies sprang to life. Akira Hoshino, the shooting guard, darted forward like a jagged shadow. Every step, every shift, every hesitation of the Seiryō players was being analyzed and punished. The court was no longer familiar it was a living, shifting wall of blue and white energy.

Marcus felt it instantly. Every dribble he tried was mirrored. Every pass, contested. The rookie small forward, Haruto Fujii, anticipated his movements before he made them.

They're reading me.

He dribbled past midcourt POCK! POCK!, trying a crossover that had worked in practice a hundred times. Fujii mirrored him, slipping under the ball, fingertips brushing the leather SNATCH!, forcing Marcus to retreat.

The crowd GASPED! as Marcus spun, breaking free, only to encounter another rookie defender: Kaito Mizuno. Fast, compact, and deceptively strong. He didn't overcommit he didn't need to. He simply blocked Marcus' line of attack, nudging him just enough to slow his momentum.

They're disciplined… smarter than I thought.

From the bleachers, Ayaka leaned forward, eyes wide. "They're… not just fast they're thinking three moves ahead."

Kana nodded, clenching her fist. "That's why rookies like these are scary. Raw skill, but disciplined. They don't panic. They read patterns and act, not react."

Meanwhile, on the court, Shunjin James, the small forward, found himself facing Daigo Nishimura, Shikoku's center. The two locked eyes across half-court.

"1-on-1," Shun muttered under his breath, bouncing the ball POCK! POCK!, feeling the weight of his role as the team's ace.

The whistle PHWEEET! shrilled. Shun dribbled forward, quick steps punctuated by sharp sneakers SQUEAK! SQUEAK! against polished hardwood.

Shun dribbles the ball, sweat flicking upward, muscles coiled and ready.

Shun feinted right, spun left, trying to create an opening. But Nishimura anticipated. Hands raised, stance wide, he mirrored Shun's footwork perfectly. The crowd's cheers "OOHH!" felt distant to Shun as he pressed the attack.

He tried a behind-the-back crossover, shifting the ball rapidly WHOOSH! The defenders' eyes tracked every inch of leather, every flick of wrist. Nishimura's hand came down SMACK!, forcing Shun to stop mid-dribble. The whistle blew traveling? No. Clean. Shun's eyes flicked for an open teammate.

He saw Marcus darting toward the left wing. The space was narrow but just enough. Shun spun, bouncing off Nishimura's shoulder BUMP!, snapping a no-look pass to Marcus.

SWISH!

Shun didn't take the shot. He'd learned long ago that the play wasn't about him it was about the team. Timing, precision, and patience.

Meanwhile, Akira Hoshino darted downcourt, receiving a crisp pass from Kaito Mizuno THWAP! He pivoted in midair, launching a jumper that sailed clean past Riku Tanaka's outstretched hands. SWISH! Score.

The scoreboard lit up: Seiryō 14 – Shikoku 12.

Marcus exhaled, gripping the ball. His teammates were beginning to feel the heat. The rookies weren't just fast they were synchronized. Every defensive stance, every pick, every cut was calculated.

They're playing like monsters.

Riku Tanaka called out, "Marcus! Control the tempo! Don't let them push us!"

Marcus nodded, but the ball felt heavier in his hands. Every decision was scrutinized. Every pass was intercepted in microseconds. He was the captain, but right now, the lead rookies were running the court.

Shun moved again, this time facing Nishimura with a flash of lightning speed. He darted left, pulled a spin move WHOOSH!, but Nishimura was ready. BLOCK! Shun's path was sealed.

He tapped the ball backward to Kento Sato TAP!, pivoted, midrange jumper ready, and released. The ball arced toward the net but Akira jumped LEAP!, fingertips grazing it TIP!, and the ball bounced harmlessly off the rim CLANG!

The scoreboard ticked again: Seiryō 14 – 16, Shikoku.

Marcus' chest tightened. Double digits. Already.

Coach Takeda's voice cut through the noise. "Marcus! Calm! Lead them. Don't chase the game, control it!"

Marcus nodded, trying to breathe through the adrenaline and pressure. Sweat poured down his face, sticking to his jersey. He adjusted his captain's armband, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing against his bicep.

The gym was a frenzy of SQUEAKING SHOES! POCK-POCK BALLS! SHOUTING! Cameras in the narration seemed to zoom, tracking every footwork, every pivot, every lift of the ball into the air.

Shun was back on the ball, dribbling toward the baseline POCK! POCK! He feinted left, then darted right, but Nishimura anticipated. Shun's usual 1-on-1 magic wasn't enough. He realized he couldn't score alone.

It's time to set up the team.

With a flick of his wrist WHOOSH!, Shun passed to Daichi Moriyama, who had slipped past a rookie defender with a clever screen BUMP! Daichi drove the lane, spun past Kaito Mizuno, and laid the ball into the basket.

SWISH!

The roar from the home crowd was deafening "SEI-RYO! SEI-RYO!" Scoreboard: Seiryō 18 – Shikoku 20.

Marcus exhaled, narrowing his eyes. He had to regain control. He dribbled, eyes scanning. Akira Hoshino had cut to the opposite wing, ready for another jumper.

Marcus executed a perfect denial defense, arms wide, staying on his toes. Focus. He lunged, blocking the passing lane SNATCH! Akira pivoted trapped. Forced turnover. Marcus grabbed the ball and started the fast break TAP-TAP-TAP!

He looked for Shun, but the rookie defense shifted. Every lane was cut off. He pivoted, noticed Riku Tanaka creating a small opening near the paint. Marcus faked left, then drove right, bouncing a pass over a rookie's arm BOUNCE!

Shun caught it midstride, spinning for a layup WHOOSH! But Daigo Nishimura leaped LEAP!, fingertips brushing the leather TIP! The ball clanged off the backboard CLANG!

Score remains: 18-20.

Coach Shimizu slammed his clipboard down BANG! "Focus! Discipline! Adjust to their speed!"

The rookies didn't flinch. Nishimura's defense, Mizuno's screens, and Akira's cuts were executed with almost unnatural precision. Marcus' team was talented, yes but today, the rookies were running a clinic.

The quarter ticked down. Marcus dribbled, passed, pivoted, and shot, but every action was met with counterplay. The rookies were faster, sharper, and, most importantly, thinking ahead.

A quick pass from Haruto Fujii to Akira Hoshino THWAP!, a spin move around Riku Tanaka WHOOSH!, and a jump shot SWISH! Another three points for the visitors.

Scoreboard flashed: Seiryō 20 – Shikoku 23.

Marcus' jaw clenched. He was struggling as a captain. Calls weren't being followed perfectly. Rookie mistakes on his side missed screens, hesitations were punished immediately.

The whistle PHWEEET! shrilled. Timeout. Players jogged to their benches TAP-TAP!, chest heaving. Marcus sat, gripping the towel WIPE!, head down.

Coach Takeda leaned over, voice low but sharp. "Don't panic. Lead them. It's your first real test as captain. They're not monsters they're disciplined, yes but you have the experience. Trust your instincts."

Marcus exhaled, sweat stinging his eyes. He looked at Shun, Kento, Daichi, and Riku. We can't let them run this court. We just can't.

The crowd buzzed "OOHH…!" with excitement and disbelief. Rookies taking a double-digit lead against senior veterans? It was unheard of. Students whispered, teachers leaned forward, and even the referees exchanged glances.

Scoreboard confirmed the reality: Seiryō High 24 – Shikoku High 37.

Marcus inhaled deeply. The rookies had shown their power, but he could feel the fire building in his chest. This isn't over. We'll adjust. We'll adapt. And I'll lead this team.