His Step Forward

A bright morning sun spilled through the thin fabric of Yoshikatsu's curtains, filling the silent room with a warm glow. Yoshikatsu's eyes snapped open as a loud alarm clock shattered the morning stillness. With a low groan, Yoshikatsu pushed himself out of bed, his eyes still heavy, blinking against the bright light streaming through his curtains. Yoshikatsu signed, with a glance at the clock stealing his calm. His heart leaped. Five minutes late, already. Yoshikatsu took a shower then splashed cold water on his face, barely pausing to dry it, then scrubbed his teeth with frantic strokes. Kaito shoved past him in the hallway, not bothering to apologize. "Move it, slowpoke," he muttered. Ayumi stood in the kitchen, her back to him. "Yoshi hurry up and get out of this house!" she snapped, without turning around. Akira skipped into the bathroom, her eyes bright. "Big brother, can I-" "Not now, Akira," Yoshikatsu interrupted, his voice tight. "I'm late." He quickly hammered out his push-ups, each repetition a release of pent-up energy. His workout was a blur of efficient movement. Bag slung over his shoulder, Yoshikatsu cast one last glance at his room, then bolted for the stairs.

In a rush, he hopped onto the railing, the smooth metal cool against his skin, and slid down, landing with a soft thud. Kazuko sat at the table, his expression unreadable. Yoshikatsu's eyes narrowed, but he didn't stop. He grabbed a piece of toast and an apple, a quick breakfast on the go. Then, he paused, giving Akira a warm hug. "Ready?" he asked, and they headed out, the morning's rush giving way to a more peaceful pace. Yoshikatsu glanced at his watch, his heart sinking. Akira would be late. Without a word, he scooped her into his arms and sprinted toward school, his breath catching in his throat. A few minutes later, he set her down at the school gate, just in time. With a quick kiss on her cheek and a "See you later!" he dashed toward the gym, grabbing a basketball from the rack as he went.

The familiar scent of polished wood and rubber filled his senses, and Yoshikatsu's mood instantly shifted, his eyes changing colors from black to blue. The sounds of the outside world faded, replaced by the imagined squeak of sneakers and the thump of the ball. His breathing deepened, his muscles relaxed, and a fierce concentration settled over him. He was locked in. He dribbled the basketball, the rhythmic thump echoing through the space. Each bounce was a release, a way to channel the morning's tension into something productive. He moved with a newfound grace, his feet light on the polished floor. Yoshikatsu Noda walked towards the center court, dribbling the basketball. He bounced the ball, each thump a release of pent-up frustration, the rhythmic thump echoing through the empty gym. A small smile touched his lips. It was just him and the basket, a moment of pure, unadulterated focus. He grabbed the ball and began to practice layups, each movement fluid and precise. He was lost in the rhythm of the game, the outside world fading into a distant hum.

Yoshikatsu sighed, the basketball spinning in his hands. He felt the smooth texture beneath his fingertips, then his mind went blank. He imagined defenders swarming him, vivid and real. A smirk played on his lips. "Let's get this started!" he shouted, and he burst into a sprint, a wide smile on his face. One defender stepped up, blocking his path. Yoshikatsu quickly stepped back, the ball a blur as he dribbled behind his back. Then, a lightning-fast crossover: left foot, between the legs, switch to the right, same move. The imaginary defender stumbled, and vanished—Yoshikatsu had broken their ankles. Another defender stepped up, taller and more muscular. Yoshikatsu's smile faded slightly, but his eyes remained sharp. He lowered into a stance, the ball a steady rhythm beneath his fingertips. Then, in a blink, he was gone. The defender's eyes widened, searching left and right. But Yoshikatsu was already behind him, dribbling towards the basket.

The defender spun around, just in time to see Yoshikatsu dribbling to the basket, and then the defender disappeared. 2 Defenders then started running at him to double-team him. Yoshikatsu Smile returned “Useless.” His speed increased while dribbling one of the defenders tried to reach and steal the ball but Yoshikatsu noticed and halted his move and passed the ball to his free hand making the defender miss and fall past him while the 2nd defender immediately stood in front of Yoshikatsu blocking him completely.

Yoshikatsu scanned left and right, his eyes darting, calculating. He shifted his weight, feigning a drive to the left, his left foot stepping in that direction. As the defender reacted, Yoshikatsu snapped the ball back, threading it between the defender's legs. He spun around, the defender stumbling, and snatched the ball back. Then, with a lightning-fast step-vanishing crossover, he was gone.

The final defender stood beneath the paint, a towering figure with eyes that seemed to glow. He stared down at Yoshikatsu, and Yoshikatsu's playful expression instantly hardened into a glare. The air crackled with tension. Yoshikatsu then said with a serious face and voice “Get out of my way” The defender did not move or flinch. Yoshikatsu then locked eyes with the defender “I just gave you an order.” The defender still didn't move. Yoshikatsu then slowly dribbled towards the Defender "Enough playing around!” Yoshikatsu then starts sprinting full gear at the defender. The defender reacted quickly pressing yoshikatsu. Yoshikatsu was shocked and then he shouted “Damnit get out of my way!” The intensity of his practice began to take its toll. Sweat trickled down his face, stinging his eyes. His muscles ached from the constant movement, but he pushed through the pain, knowing it was a sign of progress. As the seconds ticked away, he felt as if the world slowed down—just him and the basket, a steadfast companion in the stillness that enveloped him. Every other sound faded, and every other thought stilled. The humble presence of the basketball court offered a warmth and solace that was impossible to ignore.

Yoshikatsu glided across the court, the defender shadowing his every move. The ball danced beneath his fingertips, a fluid rhythm honed through countless hours of practice. Then, he unleashed the "Phantom Mirage." A lightning-fast crossover, the ball a blur, shifting right, left, right again, creating a dizzying illusion. The defender blinked, momentarily stunned, then scrambled to recover, his sneakers squeaking on the polished floor.

In a fleeting instant, Yoshikatsu executed a masterful feint to his left, much like his Iverson vanishing drive. One moment he was there, the next, he was gone, his body momentarily appearing to blur with the swift motion. It was as if he had momentarily dissolved into thin air, only to reemerge in a different position—a move the defender barely registered, earning it the name 'Phantom Mirage.

With a clear path to the hoop stretching out before him like an open invitation, he surged forward, his heart pounding in his chest and adrenaline coursing through his veins like wildfire. The defender, his breath ragged, hawked him down, desperation in his eyes. Just as he approached the basket, he abruptly pulled back, deftly switching the basketball to his opposite hand. The defender slid, his sneakers squeaking on the floor, and fell to the ground, but quickly scrambled back to his feet.

In one fluid motion, Yoshikatsu propelled himself into the air, muscles coiling like a spring before unleashing his full strength. Rising higher than he thought possible, he released the ball in a breathtaking arc that seemed to hang in time. The shot sailed through the air with precision, finding its mark as it swished effortlessly through the net, the sound echoing like music to his ears.

Yoshikatsu landed on the hardwood with a soft thud, his legs giving way beneath him. He lay there, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his forehead. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, a chorus of pain. He was completely spent.

Outside the gym, stood a girl with striking purple hair and bright eyes stood frozen, her gaze fixed on the scene within.Her face was lit with a wide, excited smile, displaying pure fascination as she looked eagerly inside the gym's windows. The sounds of the gym seemed to fade away, leaving only the image of Yoshikatsu's incredible skill. After a moment, she turned and walked away, disappearing beyond the schoolyard's gates. Back inside, Yoshikatsu sprawled on the gym floor, completely worn out, staring up at the high ceiling. A grin spread across his face. "Hell yeah! Finally did it!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the empty gym. He lifted a trembling arm, pointing towards the ceiling. '"just a little more practice and I'll be close to reaching the next level. But for now, let's rest for a little while," he mumbled, his voice trailing off.