The rain had stopped hours ago.

By the time night settled over the mountain camp, the air had cooled into a crisp, whispering breeze. The clouds that had hung over the gym earlier had scattered, revealing a sprawl of stars across a black-violet sky.

A bonfire burned just outside the training hall tall, golden flames licking at the dark. Sparks danced upward like fleeting fireflies. The smell of grilled food mixed with the faint smoke of cedar wood, and laughter echoed through the open courtyard.

Coach Hikari had given them permission to unwind for the night.

"Tomorrow," she'd said, "you rest. Tuesday, you fight."

The words still rang in Marcus's head.

Now, sitting on a log beside Yuuto and Ren, he poked absently at the fire with a stick, the orange glow painting his face in shifting light. The team gathered around Shunjin flipping skewers on a makeshift grill, Daichi teasing Kenji about over-seasoning the meat, and Riku strumming a guitar softly near the back.

It didn't feel like a team meeting. It felt like a moment stolen from time the first breath of peace after endless days of drills, lectures, and scrimmages.

The Bonfire Circle

"Yo, someone pass the sauce!"

Shunjin held up a skewer, dripping with chicken and smoke.

Kento tossed him a bottle, laughing. "Try not to burn it this time, chef!"

"Hey, I'm learning! This counts as team chemistry."

Sora grinned. "If we die from food poisoning, that's chemistry too."

Even Coach Hikari had shown up for a while, sitting beside Arisa with a cup of tea. She didn't say much, just watched them her eyes softer than usual. For once, she looked less like a strict mentor and more like a proud mother.

When the laughter died down a little, Arisa clapped her hands. "Okay, okay, listen up. Mom said we should talk about what we learned this week not just drills and tactics. Real stuff."

Groans erupted immediately.

"Arisaaa…" Ryo muttered, "don't start with the deep talk."

Arisa smirked. "Too bad. You think all that muscle training was just for your arms? Nope. You're training your heart too."

Marcus chuckled. "You sound just like your mom."

"Please," Arisa scoffed. "She'd start with a lecture, end with a metaphor about blades or storms. I'm keeping it simple."

Everyone laughed even Hikari, who shook her head with a faint smile before excusing herself to head back inside.

"Don't stay up too late," she said. "And don't burn down my gym."

"Can't promise that!" Arisa yelled after her.

Minutes later, the night softened again.

The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the distant hum of insects in the woods.

Yuuto sat with his knees pulled up, staring into the flames. His usually bright eyes were distant, shadowed.

Marcus noticed first. "You're quiet tonight."

Yuuto hesitated. "...Just thinking."

Ren leaned back against a log. "Dangerous habit."

Yuuto gave a small laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I dunno, man. Everyone seems so sure of who they are. Marcus, you're the captain. Ren's got that whole 'future star' thing going. Even Shunjin, he knows his role. Me? I just… am the boy who's recovering."

The words hung there, heavy but honest.

Daichi frowned. "You serious? You're one of our most reliable players."

Yuuto shook his head. "Reliable doesn't win games. Speed doesn't mean anything if I can't finish a play. Half the time I feel like I'm just in the way."

Silence settled. The fire popped.

Then Marcus spoke quietly, voice steady. "You remember what Coach said? Every blade breaks before it cuts."

Yuuto blinked. "Yeah."

"That means we all break first. You think I don't feel that? Every time I call a play and it fails, I wonder if I deserve to lead. But you you push the tempo. You keep us moving. Without you, we'd freeze."

Yuuto looked up, surprised. "You really think that?"

Marcus nodded. "You're the spark, man. Every team needs one."

Ren, who'd been staring at the flames, finally added, "Don't sell yourself short. You make mistakes, yeah, but so do I nothing is wrongif your recovering. At least you care enough to worry about it."

Yuuto let out a slow breath. For the first time that night, he smiled. "Thanks."

Shunjin tossed another log into the fire. "Alright, next therapy session Ren's turn. Let's hear the tragic backstory."

Ren groaned. "Oh god, not this."

"C'mon, superstar," Daichi said, grinning. "We all know you've got one."

Ren threw his stick into the fire and watched it burn down to ember. "You want honesty? Fine."

The teasing smiles faded.

Ren's voice dropped, low and steady. "My brother was the top player at Seikyo High. Two-time national champion. Everyone called him a prodigy. Every time I touch a ball, people compare me to him. They don't see me just his shadow."

He exhaled, tension in his shoulders. "And no matter how hard I work, it's never enough. If I miss one shot, I hear his voice in my head: 'You're not there yet, Ren.'"

No one spoke.

Even Arisa looked taken aback, her playful grin fading into quiet sympathy.

Yuuto broke the silence. "That's rough, man."

Ren shrugged. "I used to hate him for it. Now I just… want to be free of it. I don't wanna be his replacement. I want to be the kind of player who" He stopped, gaze flickering toward Marcus. "who people remember for his own style."

Marcus met his eyes, steady. "Then be that player. Forget his shadow. Make your own."

Ren smirked faintly. "You make it sound easy."

"It's not," Marcus said. "But that's why it's worth it."

After a while, Riku started softly strumming again, a lazy melody rising and fading in the night.

The fire burned lower, throwing more shadow than light.

Marcus stared into it, thinking.

He didn't want to talk about himself not tonight. But as he watched the others open up, something inside pushed him.

He cleared his throat. "Guess it's my turn."

Everyone looked at him.

"I'm scared," Marcus admitted. "Every time I walk into that gym, I feel this weight. Like if I mess up, I'll let everyone down. I keep thinking… maybe they picked the wrong guy to lead."

No one interrupted. The fire crackled louder, filling the silence.

"I'm not the best shooter. Not the tallest. Not the fastest. But Coach looked me in the eye and said, 'You're the one who'll hold them together.' And I don't know if I can live up to that."

For a moment, his voice almost broke. Then he chuckled softly. "Crazy, right? The captain admitting he's scared."

But no one laughed.

Ren leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "That's not crazy. That's real."

Yuuto nodded. "You don't have to be perfect, Marcus. You just have to care and you already do."

Arisa's tone softened. "You remind me of someone."

Marcus looked at her. "Who?"

Arisa's expression turned nostalgic, the firelight reflecting in her amber eyes. "My mom."

The group perked up.

She smiled faintly. "You know everyone calls her the 'Iron Coach.' But before that, she was the once a 'King of the Court.'"

Arisa nodded. "Yeah. Back in her prime, she was unstoppable. Quick, precise, and terrifying. People said she'd dominate any game she touched. But one day, she just… quit competing. Everyone thought she got injured. But she didn't."

She poked at the fire with a stick, voice soft. "She told me once that she gave up her title because she found something better teaching. She said, 'Winning shows you're strong. Teaching shows you why strength matters.'"

The group went silent again, the weight of her words settling.

Yuuto whispered, "So she could've stayed the best… but she chose to help others instead?"

Arisa nodded. "She doesn't want perfection. She wants players who refuse to quit."

Marcus exhaled. "That sounds like her."

Ren smirked. "Guess that's why she tolerates us."

Everyone laughed quietly. Even through the warmth of the fire, something deeper spread a kind of unity that didn't come from training or drills. It came from understanding.

As the night deepened, stories flowed more easily.

Shunjin talked about breaking his ankle in middle school and losing confidence.

Sora confessed he only joined the team because his dad told him to but now he couldn't imagine leaving.

Daichi shared his dream of becoming a coach someday, "if I ever stop being lazy."

Even Toma and Ishida, usually quiet, laughed and traded jokes about their disastrous first practice.

Arisa listened to it all, smiling. She wasn't just the coach's daughter now she was one of them.

When Riku switched songs again, he played something slow, almost sentimental. The firelight flickered against their faces, turning each expression into a living story pain, laughter, hope.

Yuuto lay back on the grass, arms behind his head. The stars stretched endlessly above, like shards of glass across velvet. "Hey," he said softly. "You guys ever think about what comes after all this?"

Ren raised a brow. "After what?"

"The tournaments. The practices. The pressure. Like… what happens if it all ends one day?"

Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Then we make sure it ends with no regrets."

Yuuto smiled faintly. "No regrets, huh?"

"Yeah." Marcus looked around at his teammates his friends. "We're more than players now. We're family."

One by one, the team drifted off — some lying on the grass, some dozing by the embers. Arisa fed the last few sticks into the flame, watching them crackle and fade into glowing ash.

Marcus leaned beside her. "Your mom would be proud."

Arisa shrugged. "She'll never say it out loud, but… yeah, I think she is."

Ren called from across the fire, half-asleep. "You gonna join us for the tournament, fire-coach?"

Arisa grinned. "Maybe I'll just show up and make you all cry."

Yuuto laughed quietly. "Sounds about right."

The wind shifted, carrying the smell of rain and pine.

Above them, the stars shimmered brighter infinite, unreachable, but somehow close enough to touch.

Yuuto sat up slowly, staring at them. The night felt alive around him laughter fading, fire crackling, the low rhythm of breaths from his teammates.

For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel like he had to chase anything.

He didn't feel left behind.

He just felt… part of something.

Marcus glanced at him. "You good, Yuuto?"

Yuuto smiled. "Yeah. For once, I think I am."

The fire dimmed, leaving a soft golden glow in its wake.

Tomorrow would bring rest.

Tuesday would bring battle.

But tonight under the quiet stars and fading firelight they had something rarer than victory.

They had each other.

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