Ace of the Bench

The final buzzer had long faded, but the echoes of the game still lived in the air. Sweat, noise, pride it lingered, heavy like heat after a storm.

Both teams lined up at center court.

Bows, handshakes, nods of respect.

"Good game," murmured one of Shikoku's players, slapping Yuuto's hand.

"Didn't think you'd push us that far," another added, grinning. "You guys play like you've got something to prove."

Yuuto just smiled faintly. "We do."

The crowd began to disperse. Coaches exchanged firm handshakes gritty smiles of mutual respect between warriors.

"Coach Takeda," said coach Shimizu, his voice deep and calm, "you've got potential in your ranks. A couple more years, and this team could rival our rookie squad."

Takeda chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "You flatter me, Coach Shimizu. But your boys… they're monsters."

Coach Shimizu's eyes glinted. "Monsters are just humans who've mastered their limits. You want your kids to reach that level make them train like there's no tomorrow. Consistency, repetition, pressure. Two years of that… and they might break through."

He patted Takeda on the shoulder and walked off, leaving a quiet admiration behind.

The Shiryō players gathered near their bench.

Bodies drained, jerseys soaked, but their eyes still burning.

Takeda faced them, pride etched into his tired smile."You changed the tide of the game," he said, his gaze settling on Yuuto. "You controlled the rhythm like a true point guard. That was beautiful."

Yuuto bowed slightly, breath heavy. "Thank you, Coach."

Takeda turned to Marcus next. "And you… You were a wall out there. Shooting guard, forward didn't matter. You filled the gaps like a pro."

He paused, lowering his voice. "Get stronger, Marcus. There's something special in you… and it's just beginning."

Before Marcus could reply, a voice cut in.

"Coach Takeda," said Coach Shimizu, reappearing with a grin. "I'll be honest. I'm looking forward to seeing this one again." He pointed at Marcus. "If you're ever open to a transfer, my school's doors are open."

Marcus blinked. "You serious?"

"Dead serious," Shimizu replied. Then his gaze shifted to Yuuto.

"And you… as for you, Yuuto" His tone sharpened, almost commanding. "I'm offering you a full scholarship. Join my main team. Free tuition, full support. I want you."

The entire gym seemed to freeze.

Yuuto looked at him in silence for a heartbeat.

Then he smiled.

"…And why would I do that?" he asked quietly.

Hino tilted his head. "Because you're a prodigy. You don't belong in a small pond like this. You have talent that can shake the court. I can make you one of my monsters."

The words one of my monsters echoed in Yuuto's mind.

He raised his head, eyes darkening not with fear, but defiance.

"Who said I want to be a monster on your team?" Yuuto said, stepping closer. "I don't want to become one of your monsters."

His aura flickered sharp and blue, like a blade cutting through fog.

"I want to be the one who slays them."

A few gasps broke out. Even the referees turned their heads.

Across the court, Renji paused mid-laugh. His eyes met Yuuto's, and his smirk widened.

"Oh?" The King of the Court's aura flared, emerald and fierce. "You're declaring war… on us?"

Yuuto's expression didn't waver. "Not war. A promise."

He pointed straight at Renji.

"All five of you monsters. I'll surpass every single one."

The air pulsed with tension.

Renji's grin widened, teeth flashing like a predator's.

"Really and how will you do that?"

"Dont worry i know your weakness i know how to beat you now ." Said Yuuto

"Is that so, well then I'll be waiting," he said, voice low. "Don't die before the rematch, rookie."

As Renji walked away, the crowd parted like waves around him his aura heavy, untamed, godlike.

Yuuto stood still, chest rising and falling, eyes blazing like wildfire.

Marcus stepped up beside him, chuckling. "You really just challenged one of the the King of court."

Yuuto smirked. "Someone had to."

The system pinged softly:

[Quest Progress: 100% Complete]

Reward: +1 Strength, +1 Endurance

Bonus Reward: Temporary Skill Boost Court Vision+ for 3 minutes.

The Boys went to the locker room.

The noise of the crowd had faded.

Only the rhythmic drip of sweat and the hiss of running showers filled the locker room.

Steam curled through the air as the boys peeled off their drenched jerseys, their bodies glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights. The smell of sweat, soap, and victory-that-wasn't lingered everywhere.

Marcus tossed his shirt into the laundry bin, grinning. "Man… what a game," he said, slumping down on the bench. "I swear, I still feel that dunk shaking through my arms."

Yuuto sat across from him, toweling his hair dry, his face unreadable.

Daichi laughed. "You're the only guy I know who calls losing a 'game' with that tone."

Marcus shrugged. "We might've lost, but come on… that was fire. We stood toe-to-toe with Shikoku. With him."

"Yeah," said Shunjin flatly, throwing his jersey over the bench. "Toe-to-toe and still on the floor."

The room went quiet for a second.

Daichi rolled his eyes. "Here we go…"

Shunjin leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes on Yuuto. "You could've done better."

Yuuto blinked. "Huh?"

"I said," Shunjin repeated, voice sharp, "you could've done better. You're supposed to be the point guard, right? The one controlling everything? Half of those plays died because your timing was off."

Marcus frowned. "Hey, chill, Shunjin. We all made mistakes out there."

Shunjin scoffed. "Don't defend him, Marcus. If I'm the ace of this team and I wasn't performing my best, he should've picked up the slack. That's what a real floor general does."

Yuuto looked up, meeting his gaze.

"You think I didn't notice you slowing down near the end?"

Shunjin's jaw tightened.

"You said you weren't feeling your best," Yuuto continued quietly. "So maybe next time, instead of talking about what I could've done better… try keeping up."

Marcus burst out laughing. "Yo, Yuuto—!"

Daichi slapped his knee. "Damn! Someone finally put Shunjin in his place!"

Shunjin clicked his tongue and looked away, pretending to check his phone. "Tch. Whatever."

The tension cracked into laughter after a few seconds, Marcus bumping Yuuto's shoulder with a grin. "That's my Ace."

Yuuto smiled faintly. "I'm not the Ace anymore."

"Not yet," Marcus said.

The door creaked open.

Coach Takeda stepped in, clipboard under his arm, whistle hanging from his neck.

Everyone straightened instantly.

He scanned the room, then smiled. "You boys did well."

Shunjin muttered, "We lost."

Takeda raised an eyebrow. "And? You think I care about that number on the scoreboard?"

He set the clipboard down with a thud. "This match was never about winning. It was to measure you. To show you what level you're really at and what you're missing."

He walked slowly across the locker room, his voice calm but heavy with purpose.

"Next week," he continued, "is the real thing. The official tournament. No rookies. No warm-ups. Every team will be fighting for blood, and they won't show you mercy."

Marcus nodded. "So… this was just the test run."

"Exactly," Takeda said. "And I've collected enough data to know what needs work. We'll be refining everything your rotations, communication, stamina, defensive structure. Monday morning, we train hard. Morning and evening."

A few groans echoed.

Takeda smiled knowingly. "But for now… rest. Tomorrow's Sunday. Go home. Relax. Celebrate, even if it's just for surviving today."

He turned toward Yuuto. "You especially. You shifted the game today, kid. You led them. That's something special."

Yuuto lowered his head slightly. "Thank you, Coach."

"Don't thank me," Takeda said, heading for the door. "Earn it again next week."

The door closed behind him.

For a while, the boys sat in silence just the sound of water running, towels dropping, and the faint hum of the vents above.

Marcus finally broke the quiet.

"So, who's buying dinner?"

Daichi threw a towel at him. "You are. You missed two easy points."

Marcus groaned. "Bro, don't bring that up!"

The laughter returned, echoing through the steam-filled room a fragile but real moment of peace after war.

Yuuto leaned back, staring at the ceiling, eyes still burning faintly with that same fire from the court.

The official tournament…

He clenched his fist.

That's where it begins.

Renji lingered in the hallway he slid his hands into his pockets, walking slowly across the empty court. His phone buzzed once. He stopped, sighed, then made the call.

A voice picked up on the other end, casual but curious.

"Yo. How'd it go? The rookies win?"

Renji smirked "Yeah. They won… thanks to me."

"So you played?"

"Had to. That school isn't a pushover. They've improved way more than we expected. I thought they were only decent in Division 3, but I guess not. They put up a real fight with our rookies."

The voice chuckled faintly.

"So, we got a new challenger? Another one besides the Four Kings of the Court?"

Renji's eyes narrowed, his tone cooling.

"No… not a challenger. Just a spark that'll burn out soon."

A pause. The wind picked up.

"Still," he added quietly, "there are three worth watching. The redhead Brat whatever his name is. Yuuto. And Marcus."

"You think they'll reach us?"

Renji looked down at his reflection in the phone screen cold, unreadable, the faint trace of a smirk.

"No. I don't think they'll make it that far. Someone else will crush them before we ever have to."

He hung up, sliding the phone back into his pocket, and walked off.