“Beyond friends?” Sendo raised an eyebrow slightly, his tone carrying a hint of inquiry.
Aida Yayoi took a deep breath, mustering her courage: “Sendo, I like you. I know this is sudden, and I’m aware I’m quite a bit older than you… but I still wanted to tell you, please go out with me!” Her voice had an almost imperceptible tremor, and she nervously lowered her eyes after speaking.
Sendo was stunned for a moment, then showed a look of realization: “So that’s what you meant by ‘beyond friends’? I thought… you wanted to upgrade to an exclusive fishing buddy.”
Aida Yayoi’s cheeks instantly flushed red. Her heart, already uneasy due to the age gap, sank even further: “Still… no?”
“My mother is three years older than my father, and my brother’s wife is also two years older than him.” Sendo suddenly mentioned his family, his tone as calm as if he were talking about the weather.
Aida Yayoi listened to these seemingly unrelated words, the light in her eyes dimming little by little as disappointment quietly crept into her heart.
“What I mean is,” Sendo’s voice lifted slightly, with a hint of a smile, “a girlfriend being older than oneself might just be a tradition in our Sendo family.”
But at this moment, Aida Yayoi was already overwhelmed by dejection, her ears ringing, barely catching his later words.
“Was I rejected…?” she murmured, lost in thought.
“I mean, age is never an issue.” Sendo’s voice came through clearly, with an unmistakable seriousness, “Let’s go out.”
Aida Yayoi suddenly looked up, her eyes full of incredible surprise: “What did you say?”
“Only…” Sendo deliberately drew out his words.
“Only what?” Aida Yayoi’s heart leaped into her throat, she asked anxiously.
Sendo looked at her nervous expression, the corners of his mouth curving into a beautiful smile: “Next time, something like this, the guy should be the one to say it.”
Aida Yayoi was stunned for a moment, then realized, her cheeks growing even hotter: “There’s a next time?”
“Of course,” Sendo smiled openly, “like when we get married.”
“Married?” Aida Yayoi was both annoyed and amused, she gently punched him, “Are you even a high school student? It’s one thing to like fishing, but your thoughts are even more mature than an old person’s! But… it’s a deal, you have to propose when we get married.”
Sendo agreed with a smile, reaching out to pull her into a tight embrace. Aida Yayoi leaned against his chest, listening to his steady, strong heartbeat, the corners of her mouth curving into a happy smile.
The night sky, like a piece of deep blue velvet, gently covered the entire sea.
The sea breeze carried a salty, damp scent, sometimes gently caressing, sometimes suddenly swirling their hair, letting it intertwine freely in the night.
Many things can be done by the sea at night.
You can run against the sea breeze!
You can go night fishing!
And so on!
The wind picked up, carrying the waves towards the shore.
The rocks made a sound as they were hit, at first “pat, pat,” as crisp as fingertips tapping the rocks;
Then it became “pat pat pat,” the rhythm a bit faster, like someone clapping in the dark;
Soon, the waves grew more urgent, the “pat pat pat pat pat” sounds layered together, carrying a reckless force;
In the end, the wind pushed the waves, and the waves enveloped the wind, the sound of crashing against the rocks merging into one continuous “pat pat pat pat pat pat pat pat pat pat,” dense and loud, like nature playing a drumbeat in the night, making the air tremble slightly… The next day, the ventilation fans in Ryonan Gymnasium were still humming. Taoka Moichi had just wiped the tactics board clean when Gu Jin hurried over with his notebook, the edges of the pages curled from repeated revisions.
“Coach, these are the Figure-Eight Convergence and Triangle Offensive run-throughs, I’ve revised them three times.”
Taoka’s expectations weren’t high when he took the notebook—after all, the team’s tactics had been refined for so long, and tactics couldn't add much more to this team.
But the moment his fingertips touched the pages, his gaze was fixed.
The Triangle Offensive run-through was densely marked with red pen:
When the ball handler is on the wing, the weak-side baseline player suddenly back-cuts to the free-throw line, forming a “double screen wall” with the center in the middle, instantly drawing defensive attention to the free-throw area;
At this point, the strong-side corner player uses the screen to cut to the basket, the ball handler can directly throw an alley-oop, or wait for the center to roll down and dish the ball—two routes marked with dashed lines, with a prominent asterisk placed in the blind spot of the defenders’ anticipation.
Taoka’s breathing gradually deepened. When he turned to the Figure-Eight Convergence tactics page, his fingers suddenly gripped the notebook tightly:
This tactic, originally intended for shrinking defense in set plays, was modified by Gu Jin into a fast-break variant—as players cross-ran in a “Figure-Eight Convergence” pattern, the center no longer stayed under the basket but suddenly popped out to the three-point line, forcing the opposing big man to follow, instantly opening up space under the basket;
Next to the intersection of the two crossing routes was written “Fukuda must take a baseline reverse layup when receiving the ball here,” precisely capturing Fukuda’s strong driving ability but weak mid-range and long-range shooting;
What shocked him most was the final annotation: “Simulating the last 10 seconds when down by 1 point, you can intentionally let the Figure-Eight Convergence route go awry, luring the opponent into a steal, but actually letting Sendo sneak along the baseline to draw a foul”—even responses to extreme moments were calculated.
“This… you drew this in one night?” Taoka’s voice was hoarse with disbelief, his thumb repeatedly tracing the annotations that tightly linked player characteristics with tactical details, then he suddenly slapped his thigh.
“Genius! Gu Jin, you are simply a genius of basketball tactics!” He waved the notebook and rushed onto the court, his voice echoing in the empty gymnasium, “Team, gather! Today we won’t learn anything else, we’ll just practice these two sets of tactics—Ryonan’s spring is coming!”
In Ryonan Gymnasium, the squeaking sound of sneakers rubbing against the floor rose and fell.
The players were repeatedly running positions according to Gu Jin’s new tactics; as soon as the Triangle Offensive screen was formed, the Figure-Eight Convergence cross-running followed closely, the red and blue tactical movements seemingly weaving a flexible net on the court.
“Watch the screen angle! Fukuda, don’t just rush in!” Taoka Moichi roared from the sidelines, the sweat on his temples showing his uncontrollable excitement.
Just then, the gymnasium door was pushed open.
Chairman Shenmu led a middle-aged man in a dark tracksuit, who was Coach Morita from Shonan Institute of Technology.
His gaze immediately fell on Uozumi, who was boxing out under the basket. Just as a recruiting smile was about to form on his lips, his eyes were suddenly fixed on the tactical movements on the court.
“Is that…” Coach Morita’s footsteps halted.