The sound of basketballs echoed across the gym like heartbeats.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The Seiryō High gymnasium was alive, but something felt missing.

Coach Shimizu's sharp whistle, his commanding voice gone.

The boys moved through warm-ups like soldiers without a commander.

Marcus wiped his forehead, glancing at the empty seat near the scorer's table.

The clipboard, the towel, the whistle all still there. But the man who usually filled that space had flown out just the night before.

A death in the family, they said. Coach wouldn't be back for two weeks.

The air felt heavier without him.

"Yo, Marcus," Yuuto called, bouncing the ball lazily between his legs. "You think Coach gonna check the footage from overseas?"

Marcus grunted, catching a pass from one of the forwards.

"He's probably watching right now. Man never misses a thing."

"Then I better not slack off," Yuuto joked, trying to sound lighthearted.

But even he could feel it the tension that came when routine broke.

They were halfway through suicides when the sound of heels clicking against the gym floor broke through the noise.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The doors swung open, and a figure entered not in sneakers, not in sweats, but in a fitted black tracksuit that somehow looked elegant.

She was tall maybe 5'9" with an athlete's build that was lean but unmistakably powerful.

Her long jet-black hair was tied into a high ponytail, and her expression was calm, almost regal.

The murmuring started immediately.

"Who's that?"

"Yo, she fine!"

"Wait ain't that…?"

Even Marcus, who tried to stay composed, felt his heart skip.

There was something about her presence quiet, but absolute. The kind that made you straighten your back without realizing it.

She stopped near the center line, her gaze scanning the team like a queen inspecting her knights.

"Good morning," she said simply.

Her tone wasn't loud, but it carried through the entire gym, crisp and confident.

"My name is Hikari Aoyama. From today onward, I'll be your assistant coach until Coach Shimizu returns."

The boys glanced at one another.

Assistant? She was the replacement?

A few snickered softly, but when her eyes flicked toward them, the laughter died instantly.

"I've already received your stats, game footage, and current roster details," she continued. "Coach Shimizu asked me to make sure your performance doesn't drop. So we'll begin immediately."

Marcus stepped forward, trying to assert some leadership.

"Uh, Coach Aoyama, we usually"

She turned to him with a faint smile.

"Captain Inoue, correct?"

Marcus blinked. "Y-yeah."

"Good. You'll be helping me set up the evaluation drills. Split the team into two groups offense on one side, defense on the other. I'll handle the warm-ups."

She said it so smoothly, so decisively, that Marcus didn't even argue.

He just nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Hikari's idea of "warm-up" was brutal.

No music. No chatter. No excuses.

She started with footwork ladders, cone drills, and sharp turns.

The team's breathing became ragged within minutes.

"Low center of gravity!" she called out, her voice cutting through the sound of sneakers squeaking.

"Your movement starts from the hips not the knees! Reset!"

Yūto tried to mimic her demonstration light steps, precise turns but his rhythm faltered midway.

She noticed instantly.

"You're overextending your stride," Hikari said, walking up beside him. "Stay compact. Speed means nothing without control."

Yuuto nodded quickly. "Yes, Coach!"

He tried again, adjusting. This time, smoother.

Her sharp eye followed him.

'She's insane,' he thought. 'Just from one look, she knows where I'm off?'

Marcus, meanwhile, was leading his group through defensive slides until Hikari blew the whistle again.

"Stop."

Everyone froze.

She walked up to Marcus, her expression unreadable.

"Captain Inoue," she began. "Your stance is strong. But your head moves too much when you track the ball. You're reacting late by a fraction of a second."

Marcus frowned. "A fraction doesn't matter if the defense holds."

Hikari smirked. "At the high school level, maybe not. But if you want to beat the King of the Court schools fractions matter."

The gym fell silent.

That name King of the Court hit hard.

Even the rookies stiffened. Everyone knew what it meant.

A title for those who dominated the court like rulers players whose presence alone could break opponents.

And Hikari Aoyama… was once one of them.

Marcus didn't respond. He just nodded and adjusted his stance.

But something burned in his chest frustration, maybe pride.

For the next hour, Hikari observed every move.

Her clipboard never stopped moving. She wrote in tight, perfect handwriting.

When someone missed a pass, she didn't shout she walked over, explained the body mechanics, then made them do it again.

When someone complained about stamina, she reminded them that "the mind gives up long before the body does."

Her tone was never harsh, but every word demanded focus.

Finally, she called for scrimmage.

"Blue jerseys, offense. White jerseys, defense. Three-minute sets. Show me your instincts."

Marcus clapped his hands, trying to reclaim some energy. "You heard the coach! Let's run it up!"

Yuuto jogged to the point guard spot, spinning the ball in his hands.

He could feel her eyes on him again. Watching. Measuring.

'Alright then, Coach Aoyama,' he thought. 'Let's see if I can impress you.'

The whistle blew.

Yuuto exploded off the line, passing to Shunjin on the wing.

Shunjin cut in, crossed over, and tried to drive only to get trapped by two defenders. He kicked it back.

Yuuto caught the ball, faked left, spun right, and drove into the paint.

Two defenders collapsed. Perfect.

He flicked a no-look pass behind him straight to Marcus, who dunked it in clean.

"Nice one!" Marcus called, slapping his hand.

Hikari didn't react. She just jotted something down.

The next possession, Yuuto tried to replicate it this time, forcing his way through instead of passing.

The defense read it easily and stripped the ball.

Marcus caught yuuto's glare from across the court.

"Yo, stay composed!" he barked.

Yuuto bit his lip but nodded.

After twenty minutes of intense back-and-forth, Hikari finally blew the whistle.

"That's enough."

Everyone collapsed onto benches and floor mats. Sweat dripped, chests heaved.

Hikari folded her arms, her gaze sweeping the team.

"I've seen enough to know where you all stand."

The players straightened up immediately.

"Your fundamentals are decent. Your teamwork… inconsistent. Your execution under fatigue weak."

Groans filled the gym, but she silenced them with a single look.

"But," she continued, "your potential is high. That's good. Potential can be molded."

She turned toward Yūto.

"Yuuto Kai, right? You run point."

Yuuto swallowed hard. "Yes, Coach."

"You have court vision and flair. But you waste energy on unnecessary movement. Efficiency over flash remember that."

He nodded quickly. "Got it."

Then she turned to Marcus.

"Marcus Inoue. Captain. Your leadership still needs work, and you hesitate to challenge your teammates when necessary."

Marcus frowned slightly. "You mean"

"You try to carry too much alone," she interrupted calmly. "Trust your team. Command them. Don't just protect them."

Her words landed heavy like she saw right through him.

Practice ended later than usual.

The boys sat in small groups, sipping water and unwrapping protein bars.

The gym was quieter now, the echoes replaced by murmurs and soft laughter.

Yuuto sat beside Daichi, both slumped against the wall.

"Yo," Daichi whispered, "she's no joke."

"No kidding," Yuuto muttered. "I thought she was gonna break me with her eyes."

Daichi grinned. "Bet you still tried to impress her though."

Yuuto didn't deny it.

Something about her presence sharp yet composed made him want to level up.

Across the gym, Marcus leaned against the bleachers, watching her pack up her notes.

He sighed. "She's good," he admitted under his breath.

"Too good," said Ryo, one of the power forwards. "Man, I thought she'd go easy on us."

Marcus shook his head. "Nah. She's exactly what we need before the tournament."

Later that evening, the gym lights dimmed.

Everyone had left except Yūto.

He stayed back, shooting free throws in silence.

Each bounce echoed. Each shot swished softly through the net.

"You're still here."

Yuuto turned to see Hikari standing by the door, holding her clipboard.

She looked surprised maybe even impressed.

"Can't sleep unless I fix my rhythm," Yuuto said, smiling sheepishly. "Missed too many passes earlier."

She walked closer, crossing her arms.

"Your drive is good. But don't chase perfection in one night."

He dribbled again, eyes locked on the hoop.

"Coach Shimizu once told me the same thing."

Hikari's expression softened for the first time.

"He and I used to play together. Different teams, but same court. He hasn't changed."

"You were a King of the Court too, right?" Yuuto asked, voice quiet but curious.

Her eyes narrowed, the faintest smirk appearing.

"Once. A long time ago."

She turned, her ponytail swinging slightly as she walked away.

"But remember this, Yuuto being King or Queen doesn't mean being the best. It means making everyone else play their best just to keep up."

Then she was gone, leaving her words hanging in the air.

Yuuto bounced the ball one more time, his pulse quickening.

"I'll remember that, Coach."

The ball hit the rim.

Swish.

The Queen had arrived and Seiryō's court would never be the same again.

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