Extra Basket-Chapter 160 - 147: Division Cup Vorpal vs Storm

August 10, 2010 — 3:27 PM

Hidden Valley Middle School Gymnasium

Division Cup — First Round Matchup

The lights buzzed overhead.

The bleachers groaned under the weight of the roaring crowd. Banners waved. Phone cameras flashed. Coaches shouted final instructions, and the announcer’s voice echoed across the speakers like a battle horn.

But I wasn’t looking at the noise.

I was looking at my team.

My squad.

Vorpal Basket.

I stood at the edge of the court, eyes scanning the hardwood — but more importantly, the warriors stepping onto it.

Starters

#10 — Lucas Graves – Shooting Forward

Quick. Relentless.

The moment the ball touches his hand, defenders panic. His power — Absolute Mimicry has grown terrifying. He doesn’t just copy. He learns. He adapts. And once he does—you’re cooked.

His eyes burned like twin suns behind storm clouds. Focused. Unbreakable.

"Let’s end this early," he muttered, stretching his fingers.

#9 — Evan Cooper – Point Guard

The brain of the team. Court vision like a hawk with glasses. His every pass, a dagger.

He bounced the ball once. Twice.

"They move fast. I move smarter," he said, voice low.

#8 — Josh Turner – Shooting Guard

Silent rhythm. Lethal shooter. You leave him open for a second net sings.

He spun the ball in his hand and whispered:

"My trigger finger’s warm."

#11 — Ryan Taylor – Power Forward

Emotion. Muscle. Grit. The heart on the sleeve guy.

He pounded his chest twice.

"Let’s fight for every board. Every damn one."

#15 — Brandon Young – Center

Our wall. Our anchor. Quiet, but built like a moving fortress.

He stared across the court at Malik Okafor and whispered under his breath:

"You’re tall. I’m stronger."

#7 — Aiden White – Small Forward

Balanced. Flexible. Always where we needed him.

He popped his neck left, then right.

"Let them underestimate me."

Bench Unit

#5 — Louie Gee Davas – Combo Guard / Shooter

Wildfire in sneakers. Energy that refused to be caged.

Arms crossed, chewing gum.

"If I get in, somebody’s ankles are dying."

#6 — Coonie Smith – Guard

Power. Poise. Precision. His hustle never turned off.

"If I dive, I dive with purpose."

#42 — Jeremy Park – Forward

Reformed. Rebuilt. Determined to repay what was once borrowed.

He stared at the court with solemn fire.

"This time... I stand for something."

#31 — Kai Mendoza – Guard / Forward

Mind like a maze. Strategy in motion.

He leaned toward Louie and said:

"Watch number 1 on their team. He’s the playmaker."

I exhaled slowly, the weight of everything behind us settling on my shoulders like armor — not pressure, but purpose.

Beside me, Ayumi stood steady with her clipboard, fingers tightening slightly around the edge. Her chest rose and fell under the manager’s jacket — not from nerves, but from anticipation. Her heart beat in sync with ours.

She glanced at me, voice soft but sure:

"You ready?"

I nodded, eyes locked on the enemy across the court.

"Born ready."

Across the hardwood, Roanoke Storm was already set in formation.

Five players, motionless but their presence cracked the air like pre-strike lightning.

And at the center of it all...

Kagetsu Renjiro.

#23.

The Human Thunderclap.

He stood tall at the wing, jet-black hair slick with sweat, muscles coiled tight like a predator.

His sharp blue eyes were already locked on us — no expression. No smile. Just hunger.

From the sideline, a grating voice broke the moment.

"GO GUYS!! FIGHTING!! WOOO!!!"

We all turned slightly.

Coach Fred Mason.

Our actual coach though calling him that felt generous.

Dressed in his oversized windbreaker and cheap shades, he stood near the bench awkwardly clapping his hands. His sunglasses were on indoors. He hadn’t shown up to a single strategy meeting. The man didn’t even know the roster half the time. But now? Here he was, acting like he’d led us here.

"You got this! Let’s score a touchdown— I mean! Uh, basket! YEAH!"

Ayumi slowly turned her head toward him, her face contorting with visible disgust.

"Why... is he even here?" she muttered under her breath, teeth clenched.

I shrugged, trying not to laugh. "Maybe he heard there were snacks."

Ayumi sighed and scribbled something hard on her clipboard — probably not notes for the game.

Still, we refocused. The referee stepped forward.

Whistle between his lips.

Ball in hand.

Crowd buzzing.

The moment...

The Division Cup it all starts now.

...

As The gym was a volcano.

Heat, breath, adrenaline. The air trembled.

On one side:

Vorpal Basket the underdogs, the dreamers, the team with a heart bigger than their

budget.

#10 Lucas Graves, #8 Josh Turner, #9 Evan Cooper, #11 Ryan Taylor, #15 Brandon Young.

Across from them, standing tall in navy and silver:

Roanoke Storm seasoned, brutal, cold.

At the center of that storm, a legend in the making: #23 Kagetsu Renjiro.

..

Center Circle — Tip-Off

Brandon Young stepped in.

Malik Okafor towered opposite him.

The ref raised the ball. A moment frozen in the air.

"Play smart," I whispered from the sideline, my voice firm, steady.

WHISTLE!

The ball went up. So did Brandon.

For a split-second, it looked equal.

Then...

BOOM.

Malik swatted the tip forward like a hammer coming down. Roanoke possession.

First Play – Roanoke Storm

Marcus "Flash" Daniels caught the ball mid-motion, goggles gleaming.

"Move!" he barked.

He crossed left, snapped right. Evan Cooper chased but barely kept up.

Kagetsu moved without the ball a blur. Josh tried to track him.

Flash Step Crossover split two defenders.

Passed to Tyrese on the wing Quick Catch and Shoot!

Lucas closed late

SWISH.

3–0 — Roanoke strikes first.

The Storm bench clapped once in unison, like a military unit.

....

Second Play – Vorpal Response

Evan brought it up cool, composed.

He passed to Josh, who used a Ryan Taylor screen to cut baseline.

Josh hit Brandon in the post but Malik was there.

Brandon didn’t force it. He kicked it out to Lucas on the wing.

Kagetsu rotated fast too fast?

Lucas jabbed, stepped back, saw a sliver of space.

Pull-up three.

BANG.

3–3. The crowd erupted.

Ayumi yelled from the bench: "LET’S GO, LUCAS!"

Kagetsu didn’t flinch. He just stared at Lucas.

Lucas stared back.

No words. Just a shared understanding: we’re not playing kids’ ball anymore.

Third Play – Roanoke Punches Back

Flash Daniels again. He dribbled, then passed to Andre "Tank" Malone, who faked a handoff and bulldozed into Ryan Taylor.

Ryan braced held firm.

But Kagetsu slipped behind the action like a shadow.

BOOM! Alley-oop over the top!

Thunderclap Dunk.

Rim rattled. Glass shook.

Crowd GASPED.

5–3 — Roanoke.

Kagetsu landed light as a feather. Didn’t even smile. He just whispered:

"Thunder travels fastest through air."

Fourth Play – Vorpal Fire

Evan inbounded fast to Josh.

Josh pump-faked, cut middle passed to Ryan at the elbow.

Ryan hesitates then slipped it backdoor to Lucas, slicing baseline.

Lucas reverse layup under the rim!

5–5.

No fear.

I clenched my fist. This was it.

They weren’t just holding ground they were fighting back.

Backcourt: Kagetsu’s Eyes Met Mine

From the opposite side of the court, Kagetsu Renjiro finally looked toward our bench.

He wasn’t smiling.

But for the first time, there was something flickering in his eyes.

"Ethan Albarado, huh..."

"Interesting."

Score: 5–5

Time: 7:23 left in the 1st Quarter

The crowd was already losing it.

The Division Cup had begun — and this wasn’t going to be a game.

It was going to be a war.

...

Score: 5–5

Time: 7:23 — 1st Quarter

The crowd hadn’t calmed since tip-off. Every dribble, every pivot, every whisper of rubber against hardwood felt electric.

On the bench, Ethan Albarado sat forward, elbows on his knees, gaze locked on the scoreboard. Sweat trickled down his temple—not from nerves, but from the weight of calculation.

His eyes flicked between his teammates and the storm across from them.

(It’s a tie, huh.)

But that number on the board... it didn’t feel even.

(No... we’re still trailing them mentally.)

He scanned the court.

Lucas was breathing a bit heavier. Josh was focused, but twitchy. Evan’s eyes were sharp, but his footwork was half a step delayed reading the floor too much instead of flowing with it.

And then there was Kagetsu Renjiro standing still, arms relaxed, like he hadn’t even started playing yet.

(That dunk... that was a message. Not just a play.)

Ayumi knelt beside him, flipping pages in the playbook, but paused when she saw his expression.

"You see something?"

He didn’t look away from the court.

"Yeah."

(They’re testing us. Feeling out our rhythm. And when they figure it out— they’ll snap it in two.)

Kagetsu shifted slightly, eyes catching Ethan’s for a breath. The air between them seemed to tighten.

(...So we strike first.)

Ethan stood.

The sound of his shoes against the wooden bleacher floor was barely audible, but for the team who had learned to watch him it was thunder.

"Kai, Louie. Warm up."

"Yes, sir!" Kai said, immediately on his feet.

Louie flexed and grinned. > "Master Ethan’s sending me in already? That’s how you know it’s serious."

"Just don’t trip over your ego," Coonie mumbled, tossing him a towel.

Ethan turned to Ayumi.

"We switch tempo on the next rotation. Louie spaces. Kai shadows Kagetsu."

Ayumi blinked. "You’re using Kai as a tracker?"

He nodded.

"Not to stop him. Just to see how far he can fly."

Ayumi scribbled, quick and precise. > "And what about Lucas?"

Ethan looked at the court again.

Lucas stood firm, locked in a duel with Tyrese, sweat running down his brow.

"He’s already started his own battle."

"Substitution! Vorpal!" the referee called, whistle slicing through the court’s energy.

Kai Mendoza and Louie Gee Davas jogged to the scorer’s table, fists bumping before stepping onto the hardwood. Evan and Ryan tagged out, dapping up their teammates without words.

Louie cracked his neck and smirked.

"Time to cook."

Kai glanced at Kagetsu across the court.

"Time to learn."

The ball was back in play. Roanoke Storm’s Flash Daniels dribbled with speed that nearly left trails. His goggles gleamed under the lights as he zigzagged past the half-court line.

Josh picked him up at the top.

Lucas and Kai dropped low into the corners.

Brandon anchored the paint.

Kagetsu stood on the left wing—motionless. Still. Eyes shut for a moment.

Then—

BOOM.

A sudden cut.

Lightning in human form.

Louie gasped as Kagetsu dashed past Kai like wind through a field.

"Yo! He just—"

Kai rotated in.

Too late.

Flash saw it too lobbed it.

Kagetsu jumped.

No, exploded.

Ethan’s pupils shrank.

(He’s in the air already?!)

Kagetsu caught it mid-flight with one hand—

—but instead of dunking it, he twisted.

Mid-air adjustment.

One-handed bounce-pass off the backboard.

Tyrese came flying in from the opposite side—

LAYUP. SCORE. 7–5.

The crowd ERUPTED.

Benches leapt.

Roanoke’s coach simply crossed his arms. Stoic.

"What the hell was that—And1 Streetball sh—?!" Louie blurted.

Ethan just narrowed his eyes.

"Calculated. Kagetsu’s not just a freak athlete—he’s running synchronized chaos. They’re baiting our help defense, then cutting the second layer."

Kai wiped his face and reset at half-court.

"He’s reading our reactions like a manga panel."

Lucas clenched his fists.

"Then it’s time to flip the page."

Vorpal Ball.

Lucas took the inbound from Kai.

He walked it up slowly. Intentionally.

Almost disrespectfully slow.

"Come on, Thunderclap. Let’s see what happens when lightning meets steel."

Kagetsu took the challenge.

Switched onto Lucas at the three-point line.

Silence filled the court.

No movement.

Just Lucas Graves vs Kagetsu Renjiro.

Then—

Lucas jabbed left. Crossover. Right. Pull-up. Pump. Drive.

Kagetsu stayed with him. Step-for-step. Like a mirror.

Lucas didn’t panic.

He flowed behind the rim. Reverse pivot. Kick-out to Josh.

Josh caught. One dribble. Shot—

CLANK!

Miss.

Brandon fought for the board.

Tapped out LOUIE CAUGHT IT!

Baseline. Corner three.

"LOUIE!!"

"TASTE THIS!" Louie yelled as he let it fly—

SWISH.

Score: 8–7 — Vorpal Leads

The bench exploded.

Ayumi jumped.

Ethan smiled for the first time that game.

"That’s one."

But Kagetsu?

He simply tilted his head.

"...Interesting."

Then he whispered:

"Let’s do this properly now."

He looked at Ethan across the court.

"I hope you’re ready, Albarado."

And Ethan stood silently.

Eyes sharp.

Heartbeat steady.

(Let’s see if thunder still claps when it’s struck by will.)

Time: 6:01

1st Quarter

Vorpal 8 – Roanoke 7

The storm hadn’t even started yet.

To be continue

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