Score: Horizon 60 – Toyonaka 58
Start of Fourth Quarter
The crowd's roar wasn't just sound—it was pressure. A wave crashing over me every second. My vision blurred. My jersey clung like a second skin. My breath came in short, shallow bursts.
I had played every minute.
Every. Damn. Minute.
And yet… here we were. One quarter from glory. One quarter from heartbreak.
I glanced at the scoreboard—60 to 58—and forced my tired hands to grip the ball tighter. Across the court, Toyonaka's huddle looked focused. Masaki King, towel around his neck, grinned like a lion in a den of prey. Haruto Senda fist-bumped him. Their bodies didn't look tired—they looked built for this.
Meanwhile, I could barely stand.
Coach Tsugawa crouched beside me. "You good?"
"No," I replied, my throat dry. "But I'm not done."
He smirked. "Then we'll play you 'til you drop."
The whistle blew.
Fourth quarter. Final round.
Possession: Toyonaka.
