Chapter 23

The game against Hakuba High started with an undercurrent of malice. From the opening tip, their strategy was brutally clear: break Taro's spirit through relentless physicality. They had clearly studied the tape, noted his dominance in previous games, and decided that if they couldn't stop him fairly, they'd stop him by force.

Every possession became a minefield. When Taro attempted to establish position in the post, defenders would dig their elbows into his ribs, finding that razor-thin line between aggressive defense and outright assault. Hands constantly tugged at his jersey, disrupting his movement. "Accidental" body checks and strategically placed knees transformed each offensive play into a gauntlet of potential injury. The refs let it all slide, viewing Taro's size as implicit permission for the abuse.

Kobayashi noticed it immediately. As he brought the ball up court, his jaw clenched watching another defender take a cheap shot at Taro in the post - a knee to the back that sent him stumbling forward. The usually composed captain felt his hands growing tight on the ball, his own game suffering as anger clouded his focus.

The breaking point came midway through the first quarter. Taro caught the ball on a cut to the basket, rising up for what should have been an easy layup. A Hakuba defender lunged desperately, his fingernails raking across Taro's right arm as he went up. The sudden pain caused Taro to flinch, the ball rolling off his fingers and bouncing harmlessly off the rim. Blood welled up from the long scratches on his arm, but still no whistle came.

"That's enough!" Kobayashi erupted, his carefully maintained composure shattering like brittle glass. He stormed toward the referee, eyes blazing with a fury that transcended the typical basketball frustration. "Look at his arm! Do your damn job! They're trying to hurt him out there!"

The technical foul was instantaneous. But Kobayashi didn't care. Someone needed to draw a line, to signal that this wasn't just a game anymore—it was a battle for basic dignity.

Coach Hurley, sensing the volatility of the moment, made a strategic substitution. "Watari!" he called, gesturing for the young point guard to enter the game. "Get in there. Kobayashi, cool off."

As Watari jogged to the scorer's table, Kobayashi gripped his shoulder. "Take care of him out there," he said quietly, nodding toward Taro. "Don't let them keep getting away with this."

Watari walked onto the court before going directly towards Tokuchi, his usual playful demeanor replaced by barely contained anger. His hands were shaking slightly as he pulled at his jersey.

"They're hurting him out there," Watari said quietly, his voice tight. "And getting away with it. I want to make them pay, but I—I don't know how."

Tokuchi's ever-present smirk widened into something sharper, more predatory. "Oh? The nice guy wants revenge?" He tilted his head, studying Watari with newfound interest. "And here I thought you were just our happy little point guard."

"I'm serious," Watari snapped, his fingers curling into fists. "Taro's out there bleeding, and these refs won't do anything. There has to be a way to—"

"To what?" Tokuchi's voice dropped lower, almost intimate. "To hurt them back? To make them suffer?" His smirk grew impossibly wider. "My, my, Watari. I didn't know you had it in you."

The buzzer sounded for substitutions. As they stepped onto the court, Tokuchi leaned in close to Watari's ear.

"Since you have given me the opportunity and Captian isn't here any more…" he whispered. "I'll show you how to destroy someone without ever throwing a punch. By the time we're done, they'll wish they'd never touched our center."

Watari nodded once, his jaw set. The playful rhythm player was gone, replaced by someone ready to wage war.

Tokuchi's laugh was soft and vicious as they took their positions. "This is going to be fun."

Tokuchi approached the referee with practiced concern painted across his face. "Sir" he said, voice dripping with mock sincerity, "I'm worried about player safety. They're getting rather physical." He gestured to Taro's bloodied arm. "We wouldn't want anyone getting seriously hurt, would we?"

The referee shifted uncomfortably under Tokuchi's knowing smirk. The implicit threat in his words was clear: If someone gets injured, you'll be the one explaining why you ignored the warning signs.

Satisfied with the seed of doubt he'd planted, Tokuchi jogged over to Taro, who was still wiping blood from his arm.

"Change of plans, big guy. You're playing point guard now. I'll take center."

"What?" Taro's bewilderment was clear.

"Trust me," Tokuchi's smirk widened. "They've spent all their energy planning how to beat you in the post. So let's give them something new to worry about. Plus," he added, eyeing the three-point line, "I want to see that trebuchet shot of yours in action."

"My what?"

"Your shot," Tokuchi mimicked Taro's unique motion, arms rotating back. "It's like you're launching the ball over castle walls. Maybe you'll actually hit one."

The confusion on Hakuba's faces was immediate. Their center, who'd been hammering Taro all game, now found himself guarding Tokuchi in the paint. who was half his size but twice as irritating.

"Hey big guy," Tokuchi called to Hakuba's center, his voice sweet poison. "Must be embarrassing, forced to only stay under the basket. Coach doesn't trust you any other players and only put you in this game to challenge our center, I'm guessing?"

The center's face darkened. Perfect.

On the first possession, Taro dished the ball to Tokuchi, who made a swift drive toward the hoop. Instead of aiming to score, Tokuchi expertly timed his approach, aligning his path with the center's defensive rotation. As the center moved to contest, Tokuchi jumped straight into the defender, ensuring the contact appeared as a natural outcome of his aggressive drive. The impact was dramatic, and Tokuchi went sprawling to the floor. Tweet! The whistle blew immediately.

"Shooting foul, number 5!"

Tokuchi rose slowly, brushing himself off with exaggerated care. "Wow, you really can't control your strength, huh? Or is it just bad footwork?"

The center took a threatening step forward, but Tokuchi was already walking to the free-throw line, a slight limp in his step that disappeared as soon as the referee looked away.

Two free throws later, and a failed attack by Hakuba. Tokuchi was back at it. This time, as a shot went up by Hachiman that looked off course. Tokuchi positioned himself strategically for the rebound, standing right in front of the opposing center. The instant the center leaped for the ball, Tokuchi cleverly stepped directly beneath him, absorbing the full weight of the center as he attempted his own jump. Hindered by the sudden shift, Tokuchi barely lifted off the ground before collapsing dramatically beneath the burden.

Tweet!

"Over the back, number 5! Two shots!"

"You're doing this on purpose," the center growled as Tokuchi untangled himself.

"Doing what?" Tokuchi's innocent expression wouldn't have fooled a child. "Playing basketball? Is that against the rules now?" He turned to the referee. "Sir, he's threatening me."

"I am not—!!"

"Two more free throws coming up!" Tokuchi chirped, skipping to the line. "Thanks for the points, big guy. You're really helping our offense."

Meanwhile, Watari was having the game of his life. With the defense obsessing over Taro's unexpected point guard role and Tokuchi's constant provocations, they completely lost track of him. Every time Taro drew the defense's attention with his awkward but effective dribbling at the top of the key, Watari would slip baseline for an easy layup.

"Did you see that?" Tokuchi needled after another Watari basket. "He's not even that fast. You're just that slow."

The next possession, Tokuchi outdid himself. As Hakuba's power forward drove baseline, Tokuchi timed his slide perfectly – planting his feet just as the forward took off. The collision was spectacular. Tokuchi went flying, his body twisting in mid-air before crashing to the hardwood with Oscar-worthy flair.

Tweet!

"Charging, number 8! Offensive foul!"

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" The forward exploded. "He moved into my path!"

"I was standing still," Tokuchi groaned from the floor, clutching his side. "You steamrolled me." He accepted a hand up from Taro, wincing dramatically. "I think I might need a sub..."

The moment the referee turned away, Tokuchi's pained expression vanished. He winked at the fuming forward. "Might want to watch where you're going next time. I hear spatial awareness is pretty important in basketball."

At the other end, Taro was discovering an unexpected freedom in his new role. His height let him see passing lanes that smaller guards could never spot. When defenders sagged off, daring him to shoot, he launched one of his so called trebuchet threes the ball arcing impossibly high before somehow finding the net.

"That's the ugliest shot I've ever seen," Tokuchi commented after one such make. "But hey, it went in. Unlike some people's shots." He directed this last part at Hakuba's shooting guard, who was 0-for-6.

The guard lunged at Tokuchi, who smoothly sidestepped. The guard's momentum carried him straight into Taro's solid frame.

Tweet!

"Technical foul, number 11!"

"He's doing this on purpose!" The guard protested. "He's been talking shit all game!"

"I'm just making conversation," Tokuchi said innocently. "Is that against the rules? No? Then I guess you just need to work on your temper. And your shooting. And general basketball ability."

By the fourth quarter, Hakuba was coming apart at the seams. They had three players in foul trouble, thanks to Tokuchi's constant baiting. Their offense had devolved into frustrated isolation plays that went nowhere. Every time they thought they had a clean look, Hachiman would appear from nowhere for a steal, having been completely forgotten in their fixation on Tokuchi and Taro.

"You know what the funny thing is?" Tokuchi mused loud enough for several Hakuba players to hear. "You guys actually thought you were tough. But look at you now can't score, can't defend, can't even keep your cool. Maybe if you spent less time trying to hurt people and more time practicing, you wouldn't be getting embarrassed by a point guard who shoots like he's operating siege equipment."

The game culminated in a dramatic ejection of Hakuba's center after he accumulated his fifth foul. In a clever maneuver, Tokuchi subtly hooked the center's arms during a tangle and then made a swift attempt to dash away, still locking their arms together. The center, caught off balance and unable to disengage, swung wildly and threw Tokuchi to the floor.

As they walked off the court, Tokuchi nudged Watari. "See? Sometimes the best revenge isn't about matching their physicality. It's about making them beat themselves. It also help when the refs are horrible at their jobs but you need to be ready for that."

Watari shook his head, a mix of admiration and disbelief on his face. "You barely scored any actual baskets."

"Didn't need to," Tokuchi's smirk was triumphant. "I scored plenty of points from the line, you got your layups, and star over there," he jerked his thumb at Taro, "discovered he can shoot threes. More importantly," his eyes gleamed, "we broke their spirit. They'll think twice before trying to hurt one of ours again."