Chapter 8 – “A Helping Hand”

The sound of sneakers echoed through the empty gym. Riko winced as she picked up the ball again, gripping it with her good hand. Her right wrist throbbed in protest.

“Just one more shot,” she muttered.

The ball slipped, bouncing weakly off the rim. Pain shot up her arm.

“Riko!”

Daichi’s voice made her freeze. He rushed over, frowning. “You’re still practicing? Coach said to take it easy.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, hiding her hand behind her back.

“Yeah? Then why’re you holding your wrist like that?”

She hesitated. “...It’s nothing. Just a little twist.”

He sighed, stepping closer. “Lemme see.”

“It’s fine, really—”

Before she could finish, he gently grabbed her arm, pulling it forward. She yelped.

“Fine, huh?” he said dryly. “You’re terrible at lying.”

Riko’s face flushed as he examined her wrist. His fingers were warm against her skin, careful but firm. The closeness made her pulse race.

“I told you to stop overdoing it,” Daichi murmured, unwrapping a roll of bandage from his bag. “You’re always so reckless.”

She tried to laugh it off. “What can I say? I like winning.”

“Yeah, but not at the cost of breaking yourself.”

He knelt down, wrapping the bandage neatly around her wrist. His brows were furrowed in focus — the same look he had when lining up a shot or fixing a strategy.

Riko couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Why does he have to be so gentle when he’s like this?

The gym was quiet except for the faint rustle of the bandage and her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“There,” he said finally, tying the last knot. “Good as new. Well… almost.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, staring at her wrapped wrist.

He grinned. “Guess I’m your hero again, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “You wish.”

Daichi chuckled and leaned back on his hands, sitting next to her. “Seriously though, you’ve gotta take better care of yourself, Riko-bro.”

The word hit her harder than she expected.

“Riko-bro.”

Not Riko. Not even “you.” Just “bro.”

She forced a laugh, scratching her cheek. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll try.”

He smiled, oblivious. “Good. Can’t have my rival getting injured before next week’s match.”

Her heart ached — not from the sprain, but from the way he said rival like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn’t see her blushing, didn’t notice the way she looked away to hide her eyes.

You’re always reckless, Riko-bro.

The words echoed in her head.

It was teasing, caring, familiar — and it hurt.

---

When he left to put the equipment away, Riko sat there quietly, flexing her bandaged wrist.

Her reflection shimmered in the polished gym floor — smiling weakly.

“He still doesn’t see it,” she whispered. “He still doesn’t see me.”

Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows.

Riko tightened her fist, ignoring the dull pain. “Fine. I’ll make him notice.”

Her heart cracked a little — but determination glowed faintly through the ache.