Chapter 6: Skill Growth

"Every expert was once a beginner. The difference is they never gave up." – Unknown

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"Okay, now let's try some shooting," Aria suggested, her sapphire-blue eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. She positioned herself gracefully, demonstrating the proper shooting form—knees slightly bent, elbow at a right angle, and a smooth flick of her wrist to release the ball. It arced beautifully through the air and sank effortlessly into the hoop, barely grazing the net.

I swallowed hard. "Like this?" I asked, trying my best to mimic her stance.

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Now, take your shot."

Taking a deep breath, I glanced at the hoop, then back at the ball in my hands. My palms felt clammy, my heart hammering against my ribs. With a surge of determination, I launched the ball toward the basket. To my utter amazement, it sailed through the air, hit the backboard, and, after a brief bounce, swished into the net.

"Hey, not bad!" Aria cheered, her smile widening. "You've got potential, Belial!"

"Really?" I asked, my chest swelling with pride. The sound of the net swishing replayed in my mind, sending a rush of exhilaration through me. It was the first time I had ever felt this—this electric thrill, the intoxicating taste of success, no matter how small.

"Definitely," Aria confirmed, her eyes shining. "I can already tell you're going to be great. Just keep practicing, and never give up."

"Thanks, Aria," I said, my voice filled with gratitude and excitement. "I won't let you down."

As we continued practicing, I found myself falling deeper in love with basketball. It wasn't just a game—it was a challenge, a puzzle I wanted to solve with my own two hands. At first, my movements were clumsy—dribbles bouncing too high, shots falling short—but every small victory fueled my determination.

The basketball court beneath my feet felt like a stage, the bustling sounds of the city forming a backdrop. The rhythmic pounding of the ball against the pavement was like a steady drumbeat, urging me forward. As Aria dribbled effortlessly, her platinum blonde hair swayed behind her, catching the golden hues of the late afternoon sun. There was something mesmerizing about the way she moved, her grace and confidence blending seamlessly.

"Alright, Belial," she said, tossing me the ball. "Let's work on your dribbling. Keep the ball low and use your fingertips. It's all about control."

I nodded, taking in her advice. "Okay, here goes." I took a deep breath and began bouncing the ball. My movements were stiff, my fingers fumbling with each hit, and more than once, the ball slipped from my grasp and rolled away.

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Aria encouraged, jogging after the ball and returning it to me. "Just relax. Feel the rhythm. The ball should be an extension of you."

"Rhythm, huh?" I muttered under my breath. I closed my eyes briefly and took another deep breath, trying to let go of my nerves. This wasn't just about force—it was about flow.

This time, I focused on the bounce—the steady up-and-down motion, the way my fingertips tapped against the leather surface. Slowly, my movements became more fluid. The ball obeyed my hands, rolling with more precision instead of escaping my control. A small spark of confidence ignited within me.

"See? You're getting better already!" Aria exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Now let's move on to shooting form."

I nodded, eager to keep going. Aria demonstrated once again, her form so effortless, so natural. She made it look easy—like an art form rather than a sport. I couldn't help but admire her mastery.

"Your turn," she said, handing me the ball.

I positioned myself, gripping the ball firmly. Its weight was reassuring, grounding me in the moment.

"Remember," Aria advised, "aim for the backboard, use your legs for power, and follow through with your wrist."

"Got it." I exhaled slowly, determination coursing through me. I bent my knees, lifted the ball, and released it. The ball arced through the air, its trajectory seeming perfect—until it hit the backboard and bounced away.

"Nice try!" Aria encouraged. "You're on the right track—just keep practicing."

"Thanks." Instead of frustration, I felt something different—a drive to get better. I wanted to keep pushing, to refine my skills until the ball swished through the net every single time.

With every dribble, every pass, every shot, I felt myself becoming more immersed in this world. The thrill of competition, the camaraderie on the court, the feeling of self-improvement—it was exhilarating.

Aria grinned at me, spinning the ball effortlessly in her hands. "Alright, Belial, let's see how far you've come. How about a friendly one-on-one match?"

"Really?" I asked, a mix of excitement and nervousness coiling in my stomach.

The chance to test my skills thrilled me, but could I really keep up with Aria's expertise?

"Sure!" she replied, tossing me the ball. "Don't worry—I'll go easy on you."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Aria chuckled. "Come on, show me what you've got."

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and started dribbling. Aria assumed a defensive stance, her sapphire eyes locked onto mine, a playful yet determined glint in them.

I hesitated for only a moment before making my move. I faked a pass to the left, then darted to the right. Aria reacted quickly, but I managed to slip past her. My heart pounded as I neared the hoop. This is it. I jumped, attempting a layup. The ball bounced off the backboard and—

Swished through the net.

"Nice move!" Aria exclaimed, clapping. "You're learning fast!"

I exhaled, relief and pride washing over me. "Thanks."

"Alright, my turn." Aria took possession of the ball, and in an instant, she was in motion. She moved like a blur, her platinum hair trailing behind her. Her agility was incredible—her movements precise, calculated, effortless.

I did my best to keep up, but it was like trying to stop a storm. Aria dodged every one of my attempts at defense, cutting through my efforts with finesse. Then, with a graceful leap, she released the ball. It spun perfectly through the air before sinking into the net.

I could only gape. "Wow."

Aria grinned, tossing me the ball. "Come on, Belial! Don't let me dominate the whole game!"

I gritted my teeth and tightened my grip on the ball. I can do this. I pushed forward again, dribbling faster, trying new moves, experimenting with my footwork. My shots still weren't as clean as hers, and my defense was weak, but something inside me had shifted.

I wasn't afraid anymore.

With every step, every pass, every shot, I felt myself growing stronger. This wasn't just about winning or losing—it was about improving, about pushing past my own limits.

"Keep it up, Belial!" Aria cheered. "You're doing great!"

"Thanks," I said, smiling despite my exhaustion.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting golden light across the court. Sweat dripped down my brow, my muscles ached, but I felt alive. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I truly belonged.

And I wasn't about to let that feeling slip away.