Chapter 1

I hated basketball growing up.

When we were kids, my dad would walk me and Yuzo around the neighbourhood, anywhere with a net to play with him. And he’d always want to play the same thing: HORSE.

The game’s simple: each shot is a letter, until you spell the word.

The last time I played, I went first. I thought I was gonna crush it.

I missed it.

Dad tried and failed to teach me to play properly. According to him, I was doing everything wrong.

My hands were wrong on the ball, my arms didn't arc out correctly, and I was throwing my body forward instead of holding my shooting position.

He forced me to shoot the ball and then would chew me out for how bad I did. It felt like it went on for hours.

Yuzo, even though he was never good at sports, was much more successful than I ever managed to be at it.

He even made it to R. My dad was at S. I couldn't even get to an H.

Even now, every time I make a basket, I can feel the cold air from that day in my lungs. I remember, if only for a second when the ball leaves my hands, the feeling of rain and spit hitting my face.

As my pops chewed me out, I ended up crying, even though I tried really hard not to. That just pissed him off more.

Eventually he gave up and dragged us out of the park. I'll never forget the look of disappointment on his face.

I can feel it burning through the back of my skull if I close my eyes for just a second too long.

The only thing worse than that look was when he turned away, refusing to look me in the eye for the rest of the day.

I remember looking at his back on the way home as I tugged on his finger with my hand, desperately trying to look up at his face for a sign of reassurance.

I wonder if I look like him when I wear my jersey. And if that bastard feels the same way I did when he looks at my back, sitting on the couch with a bottle in his hand.

…

“AND THAT'S THE FINAL SHOT! JASON RAJA BRINGS HIS TEAM TO A HISTORIC VICTORY AGAINST THE NORTH TECH PEELERS!!! THIS IS A MAJOR UPSET, FOLKS. THE FAN-FAVOURITE TEAM BEATEN BY A WHOPPING 50 POINTS, ALL SCORED BY JUST ONE PLAYER!”

When the buzzer rang, the stadium erupted as people screamed with joy and disbelief over the score. 50 whole points: a historic loss. On the court, Jason slammed to the ground before being instantly swarmed by his teammates.

The four sweaty, exhausted young men grabbed him, lifted him high, and tossed him into the air, screaming with excitement.
“We did it, man! What a crazy final shot! You’re a legend!” Mark cried, his sweat mixing with tears of joy; he screamed as he tossed Jason up in the air.

Despite the commotion of the arena and the yelling of classmates, the families and fans alike who had come to see the year’s college finals, all Jason could hear was ringing in his ears as his team carried him off.

Why do I feel… bored?

…

“Jae, snap out of it!”

Jason, abruptly woken out of his trance, found himself in the locker room, away from the noise and the crowd. The cheers of his teammates had quickly turned to concerned looks. “You alright, dude?” Kevin asked, lowering Jason onto a bench.

“I'm a fine man. Just…tired. Carrying your team on your back takes it out of you, y’know." Jason smirked, lifting himself from the bench.

“Alright, sure buddy, I'll let you have that gloat because we won. I'm just happy it's over, because damn, that was hard to watch. The rest of us aren't gonna hear the end of it for weeks!” Kevin turned to the other boys, pointing at Jason teasingly.

“Mr MVP is probably still soaking it in. Let's give him some space," he said, slapping Jason on the back.

While his teammates celebrated their win, even cracking beers open in the locker room, Jason found himself quietly wiping himself off with a towel he found already waiting on the bench before quickly discarding it.

Jason stood almost still, waiting for his head to calm. Eventually the sound of his teammates' indistinct banter faded until he was left alone with nothing but the dripping of the showers.

Once the silence had settled in, he lingered for just a moment before taking a deep breath and stepping out hastily.

Finally, today’s over. My head is killing me.

…

On his way out of the locker room, the ringing was drowned out by the stadium’s noise.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from behind him. “Jason!”

'Oh great,' Jason thought, 'Emma.' Please say she didn't bring friends this time.

“Jason!” Emma awkwardly fumbled forward to reach him, flanked by two other young girls who were giggling as they hid their red faces in her long blonde hair.

“Hey, Emma.” Jason mumbled out, a forced smile breaking onto the corners of his mouth. “Thanks for coming. Hope you enjoyed the show. What's up…?”

“It was amazing! Um, can you sign my friend’s jerseys? They’ve been following your season; they're big fans. We even brought you a Sharpie if you need it.” she said as she fumbled around in her bag. She’s still the same kid I remember. Disorganised, just like Yuzo.

With a patient sigh, Jason grabbed the marker. “Who am I to say no to fans, right?”

Emma’s face went bright like a lightbulb while her friends squealed beside her, their smiles causing his face to soften. “Thanks so much! You’re the best, Jason.”

Before Emma left, her face dimmed as she moved to whisper in his ear, “Oh, and say hi to Yuzo for me? He hasn't been replying to my texts.”

With his half-hearted smile, Jason nodded.

“Be safe getting home, girls. "It's late." He then waved goodbye before making his way out the doors of the stadium and onto the street.

…

Despite only being around 20 minutes away, Jason always found the walk home to be the worst part of his day.

It was a cool and quiet evening; only the sound of cars passing and the occasional fellow passersby disturbed the slow crawl along the highway.

Despite the win still ringing around in his head, he had something far more central on his mind: the instant ramen he had stashed away in the cupboard.

Saved it just for today. I knew I’d need it.

Ichisan brand beef, his favourite. He’d been looking forward to making a bowl more than winning the championship.

He picked up his pace slightly at the thought of it.

…

“I’m home,” Jason mumbled lazily, turning the key to enter the door to his small apartment.

As he walked into the main room, though, something unmistakable hit his nose: the smell of ichisan broth. Someone ate my damn ramen. They even ate my homemade shoyu eggs. What the hell?

There was only one possible culprit.

Yuzo.

With a heavy sigh, not even bothering to take off his shoes, Jason took off towards his brothers’ room.

…

Jason found Yuzo where he always did: in his room, sitting with nothing but the light from his computer keeping things visible.

“Oh, hey Jae. You’re home.” Yuzo remarked casually, leaning back in his worn chair as he slurped up a final noodle from the bowl he was holding.

“Congrats on your win. Everyone's been blowing up my phone with photos they took of you on the court.” There was a slight tightness in his voice when Yuzo looked up at his brother.

And yet, Yuzo couldn't help but smile as Jason walked closer and placed his hand on his head, rustling his long hair.

“Thanks, man. I wish you would have been there. I'd rather have an afterparty and MY ramen with you than drink with the team.” Jason smiled as he moved his hand onto his brother's shoulder, which buckled under the weight immediately. “They always get too wasted. Also, just ask for noodles next time. I'll buy you your own pack.”

The two brothers sat around for a while as Jason went over the play-by-play of the game, Yuzo only half listening as he continued to type away on his keyboard.

…

“By the way, Emma came to every game with different friends of hers and got me to sign stuff.” Yuzo twitched after hearing her name.

“You should return her texts, you know. She tells me to remind you every time I see her.” Jason teased, sitting down on the bed beside Yuzo’s monitor as he spoke.

“Shut up, Jae. You know she just wants to tell people she knows the ‘rookie of the year’. She couldn't care less about me.” Yuzo mumbled back with a wince, moving his eyes from his screen to meet his brother's.

Jason sighed, moving his hand from his brother’s shoulder. “It’s more likely she's worried about you than anything to do with me. I mean, you haven't gone to school in a month.” He chuckled half-heartedly. “Besides, you’re MY brother. Of course there are at least some girls who are into you. She's liked you since we were kids, and you know it.”

Yuzo returned his smile before wordlessly returning to look at the computer.

A still silence lingered between the two boys for a while.

…

“So, what have you been up to since I left, besides eating ramen? Are you talking to your gamer ‘girl’ again?” Jason asked casually, staring at the MMO open on Yuzo’s screen.

Yuzo shifted in his seat.

“Dude, I know she says nice things to you, but I think you’re just getting scammed for gems. It even happened to me; that’s why I stopped playing. You have real girls who want to talk to you; it's so weird that you’d rather talk to basement dwellers.”

Suddenly, Yuzo gripped Jason’s arm through his letterman, meeting his eyes intensely. “She’s real, Jason. She and the rest of my guild are my friends. Lay off.”

“Whoa, Yuu, I was joking. It's not that big of a deal.”

Jason, unnerved, tried to diffuse the situation with half-hearted humour, regaining his bearings.

Yuzo, though, had lost his patience.

“No, it IS a big deal. You always do this! I'm not allowed to just be happy if it's not “productive” or what you think I should be doing! You always barge in here and act like I'm wasting my time; I'm sick of it! My guild cares about me more than anyone out here does!”

Before Jason could respond, with his fist clenched, Yuzo lunged at him, slamming him into the door before throwing him to the floor, taking his older brother to the ground.

A pale fist hit Jason in the cheek, a bruise quickly forming. Jason’s eyes grew sharp, inhaling deeply. He kicked Yuzo in the ribs, sending him reeling into the desk.

“I… You should be a little tired after finals… You’re a real monster, you know that…?” Yuzo gasped for air, struggling to pull himself up.

Getting to his feet, Jason stepped back. “What the hell? I’m not…” he paused for a moment before continuing towards the door.

"I'm not in the mood for whatever the hell is going on with you right now. Back off.”

But it fell on deaf ears.

Yuzo once again lunged at Jason. The only thing illuminating the two was the light of the computer screen.

A left jab, parried. His right cross slipped. There was a hard crunch, followed by the thud of a body hitting the carpet.

Yuzo’s left hook was caught and countered by Jason with a knee to the ribs, sending Yuzo to the ground. He uses the same moves from when we were kids.

Jason’s face grew sullen as his brother fell to the ground. The ringing had returned in his ears, and his vision started to blur slightly from exhaustion. We haven't fought like this in years. What's got into him?

Yuzo lay on the ground, a thin stream of blood running from his nose onto the carpet.

Jason’s jaw tightened for a moment, grabbing the collar of Yuzo’s shirt, before dropping him and turning to the door.

“Blow off some steam, and then we’ll talk.”

From behind Jason, Yuzo released a blood-curdling shriek, freezing him in his tracks.

The air in his lungs went frigid. Once again, Jason’s feet felt bolted to the floor.

And suddenly, the only thing Jason could feel or hear was the ringing in his ears.

A second thud would have been heard if there were anyone else around. But to the rest of the world, the evening was silent.