Ace of the Bench

The second morning of camp began not with the usual whistle but silence.

The players gathered on the court, waiting, uneasy. The mountain wind swept through the trees, cool and sharp, and every sound the bounce of a loose ball, the rustle of sneakers felt amplified.

When Hikari finally entered, she wasn't carrying her clipboard.

Only a whistle hung around her neck, and her eyes were harder than ever.

Arisa followed quietly behind, a black notebook in her hands.

"Good morning," Hikari said, voice calm but razor-sharp. "I hope you all slept well. Because today, I'm going to break every one of you."

The words hit like thunder.

No one moved.

Rei forced a nervous chuckle. "Break us? That's dramatic, even for you, Coach."

Hikari didn't even blink. "You'll understand soon. Arisa list them."

Arisa opened her notebook. "Each of you will face your weakest skill today. Individually. Under supervision. No breaks until you either fix it or collapse."

A low murmur ran through the team. Marcus glanced around. "Wait, all of us? At once?"

"No," Hikari said. "One by one. The others will watch."

That sentence silenced everything.

Shunjin's Turn The Form That Falls Apart

"Shunjin," Hikari said. "You first."

Shunjin froze mid-step. "Me? Why me first?!"

"Because you talk the loudest," she replied. "Let's see if your form matches your mouth."

The others stepped aside, giving him space. Shunjin walked to the free-throw line, dribbling once, twice, trying to shake off the tension. Hikari's eyes followed every movement like a hawk tracking prey.

"Shoot," she said.

He took a breath, bent his knees, and released.

Clank.

The ball hit back iron and bounced out.

"Again."

He swallowed, shot again.

Another miss.

"Again."

The next few shots rattled and spun off. Each failure made the silence heavier. Sweat started to roll down his temples.

Hikari folded her arms. "Your release point is inconsistent. Your elbow drifts left, and your wrist flicks late."

"I know that" Shunjin snapped.

"No, you think you know that," she interrupted. "If you knew, you'd fix it."

He scowled. "Coach, I've been practicing"

"Practicing wrong," Hikari said coldly. "That's worse than not practicing at all."

The words stung like fire. The team stood frozen, unsure whether to look away or watch.

Hikari walked up, standing directly beside him. "Lift the ball again."

He obeyed reluctantly. She placed her hand just below his elbow, steady but firm. "Your shoulder's tense. You're forcing control instead of trusting rhythm. That's why your shot feels heavy."

Her tone softened for a fraction. "Basketball isn't about dominating the ball it's about flowing with it."

Shunjin stared at the rim, jaw tight. "So what do I do?"

"Breathe. Release the weight. Feel it, don't fight it."

He tried again. The ball arced cleanly

Swish.

The net whispered softly.

Everyone exhaled.

Shunjin blinked, almost disbelieving.

Hikari nodded once. "Better. But remember that feeling. Because the moment you lose it again, the shot dies with it."

She turned away, her voice cutting through the silence. "Next."

"Rei."

The blonde-haired guard smirked, spinning the ball on his finger. "Alright, Coach. What's my 'weakest skill'? Confidence? Charisma?"

"Endurance," Hikari said flatly. "You burn bright but fade fast. Let's fix that."

Rei blinked. "Wait wait, endurance? That's not fair. I can"

"Run," she said.

He frowned. "How far?"

"Until you stop talking."

The team laughed under their breath. Rei rolled his eyes, starting a jog. One lap. Then two. Then five. His breath grew ragged, the smirk gone.

Hikari's voice echoed through the air. "You act like every play is your stage, Rei. But a real player doesn't shine for attention he shines because the team needs light."

By the tenth lap, his shirt clung to his skin. By the fifteenth, his legs trembled.

Arisa watched silently, pen moving.

Rei gasped, slowing. "Hah… Coach, seriously… I get it…"

"Do you?" Hikari asked. "Or are you just tired of pretending?"

His steps faltered.

"Run."

He pushed forward, eyes burning. Every step became a battle between pride and pain.

Marcus shouted from the sideline, "Come on, Rei! Don't fold now!"

Yuuto echoed, "You said you don't stop till you win, right? Prove it!"

Rei's chest heaved, but he gritted his teeth and forced another lap.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Hikari blew the whistle.

He collapsed to the ground, drenched, gasping.

She knelt beside him, voice calm again. "Now you understand. Confidence is earned, not shown. You've got skill, Rei but without humility, it's useless."

He nodded weakly, eyes glimmering. "Yes… Coach…"

For the first time, his voice had no arrogance l just resolve.

"Captain Marcus," Hikari said. "Step forward."

Marcus exhaled, already bracing himself. "What's my punishment, Coach?"

"Not punishment. Evaluation."

Arisa handed her a black blindfold. "Put it on."

The others exchanged confused looks.

Marcus tied it securely. "You serious?"

"Completely," Hikari said. "You'll run pattern drills blind. Your teammates will guide you. Let's see if your leadership extends beyond orders."

Marcus inhaled deeply. "Alright. Let's do this."

She placed a ball in his hands and stepped back. "Court's yours."

The whistle blew.

He started to dribble forward hesitantly at first. "Someone call it."

Yuuto's voice came immediately. "Left! One step!"

He moved.

"Now forward two dribbles crossover!"

Marcus obeyed, the ball bouncing in rhythm. Sweat formed under the blindfold. His world was darkness, only sound and trust guiding him.

"Toma, where's the cone?"

"Three steps right, then shoot!"

Marcus turned, released

Swish.

A wave of cheers broke out.

He laughed breathlessly. "Let's go!"

"Again!" Hikari said. "Faster!"

The drill continued. Passes, movement, pivots all based on trust. When a pass came in late, he didn't complain. When a call was wrong, he adjusted. Every failure tested him not just his skill, but his faith.

At one point, Yuuto hesitated on a call. Marcus stumbled, nearly tripping.

"Damn it sorry!" Yuuto said.

Marcus laughed. "Don't be sorry be louder next time!"

Even blindfolded, he was still leading.

After ten grueling minutes, Hikari finally blew the whistle.

He pulled off the blindfold, drenched and breathing hard, but grinning. "That… was insane."

Hikari smiled faintly. "That's what leadership looks like. Not commanding trusting."

Marcus nodded slowly, chest still heaving. "Got it, Coach."

Arisa scribbled something on her pad. "Adaptability through sensory deprivation impressive."

He shot her a grin. "You trying to analyze me or recruit me?"

"Both," she said flatly.

The team laughed.

Hikari turned to him. "Kai."

Yuuto straightened. "Yes, Coach."

"You hesitate too much when the play shifts. You rely on logic when instinct is faster. Today, you'll play against time."

She set up a stopwatch. "For the next three minutes, you'll react to my calls. Miss one beat, start over."

He nodded. "Understood."

"Ready… go!"

The first command came fast. "Crossover left!"

He moved instantly.

"Spin, pass, catch and shoot!"

He followed perfectly.

Then, "Fake, pull, step back, drive and kick out!"

Yuuto's eyes flicked right, caught the pass, drove hard, kicked out to an invisible wing.

"Reset!"

Sweat flew off his arms as he restarted. His mind screamed to keep up, his body barely ahead of thought.

"Faster!"

He tripped once, recovered, breath ragged.

Marcus yelled, "Trust yourself, Kai!"

Hikari's voice cut through the noise. "You think too much. Stop predicting and feel it!"

He shut his eyes mid-drill and let the rhythm guide him the sound of his shoes, the ball, the court. His body took over.

Thud. Step. Pull. Release.

Swish.

The ball fell clean.

He froze, panting, eyes widening.

Hikari stopped the timer. "Two minutes forty-eight seconds. Not perfect. But that" she pointed at the shot"was instinct. That's what you've been missing."

Yuuto smiled faintly. "Guess I just needed to stop thinking."

"Exactly," she said softly.

By midday, every player had been tested. Their shirts were soaked, their spirits cracked but something inside them had shifted.

They sat in a loose circle on the court, staring at the floor, too tired to speak.

Arisa stood beside her mother, closing her notebook. "That's all for today."

Hikari looked over them, eyes steady but not unkind. "You all hate me right now, don't you?"

No one answered.

She smiled faintly. "Good. That means I did my job."

Rei spoke first, voice low. "You… you broke us down on purpose."

"Yes," she said. "Because that's how you rebuild properly."

Marcus leaned forward. "You're not trying to replace our old coach, are you?"

Hikari shook her head. "No. I'm not here to erase him. I'm here to reforge what he built."

She pointed to the court beneath them. "This floor doesn't care about names or egos. It only remembers effort. Every step you take here, every drop of sweat, it becomes part of who you are as a player. That's what I'm trying to teach you."

Yuuto looked up. "So… all this pain… it's to make us see what's real?"

Hikari nodded. "Exactly. Breaking points aren't where you fail they're where you begin again."

Silence lingered, but this time it wasn't heavy it was alive.

Arisa closed her notebook. "Tomorrow, we start rebuilding."