Two teammates from the crippled basketball team hauled the injured player toward the campus clinic.
His arms were draped over their shoulders, his broken ankle dragging on the pavement, letting out a strained groan with every step.
The remaining two players stood on the polished concrete, staring at the empty space. The sun was already beyond the horizon.
At the center of the court stood the captain, easily identified by his large build and leadership aura.
He was a mountain of a man, his shoulders so broad they blocked out the player standing behind him.
Panting heavily and clearly stressed out, his shirt soaked through with sweat. He stared at the spot where his teammate had fallen, his jaw locked tight.
"That's it." he said, his voice flat and tired. He turned and kicked the basketball as hard as he could.
It shot across the court, smacked against the far wall, and bounced away. "We're done... After all the training. Tomorrow morning is the deadline. It's impossible to find a fifth."
The other player shifted awkwardly, rubbing his arm. "Come on, Dane. We could try to find a replacement by tomorrow—"
"Who?!" Dane snapped, spinning on him. "Who the hell is going to join our shitty team? We haven't won a single game all year. Nobody cares about us."
"So we just quit?" the teammate said, his voice rising.
"What do you want me to do?" Dane shouted, his frustration boiling over. "Pull a fifth player out of my ass? Nobody is joining our team."
The silence stretched, and the field felt empty of life in the evening.
Pushing off the concrete railing, Alex stepped out of the shadows and walked onto the court, his footsteps were quiet, but the sound of them was carried in the silence.
Dane whirled around, his massive frame tensing, his eyes narrowed as he looked this stranger up and down. "Who the hell is this? Court's is ours tonight, man."
Alex stopped a few feet away from the center and looked up at the blonde giant, unfazed by the anger in his eyes. "I heard you need a fifth."
Dane stared at him, fhen he let out a short, humorless chuckle. "Get out of here, man."
"Let me try out." Alex responded, his voice calm, but confident and challenging. "I know how to play."
The teammate stepped forward, looking Alex up and down with a sneer, taking in Alex's clean white shirt, his black jeans, and his casual sneakers. "You? Play? Look at this guy! Go back to your modeling job, boy."
Alex ignored him. He walked past them, heading for the far wall where the basketball had rolled to a stop.
He picked it up, the rubber surface firm against his fingers, walking back to the center of the court and started dribbling.
The ball struck the polished concrete in a unbroken rhythm.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Dane's eye twitched. He was already at his breaking point, and now some random guy in pants was dribbling a ball annoyingly, after getting their fifth player injured. "Hey. I said get out! Don't get on my nerves."
Alex kept dribbling. He didn't even look up, just kept adjusting his pace and control.
"Son of a bitch! You need a beating!" Dane snapped, closing the distance in two heavy steps and shoved Alex hard in the shoulder.
Alex absorbed the impact of the shove without moving his feet. Despite the large size of Dane, he couldn't push him back an inch.
The ball kept bouncing. Thud...Thud...Thud...
Dane's face twisted in pure rage, lunging forward, both massive hands swiping for the ball.
Alex shifted his weight. The ball slapped into his other hand in a blur and dane stumbled past him, his fingers catching nothing but air.
He skidded to a stop, his sneakers squeaking on the polished field. He turned, his chest heaving, his face turning a dark mottled red. "You think this is funny?!"
He charged again, lower this time, trying to use his bulk to trap Alex.
Alex spun around him, the ball never breaking its rhythm. And again, the captain's hands grabbed empty space where he had been a second ago.
The teammate jumped in to help. "Corner him, Dane! Don't let him move!"
The teammate tried to trap Alex from the side, reaching in with both arms.
But Alex bounced the ball around effortlessly as if he had been practicing for years. Even the two of them couldn't get their ball back.
For the next ten minutes, it went on like that.
Dane and his teammate chased Alex all over the court. They swiped, grabbed, lunged, shoved, and dove.
They fouled him hard enough to draw blood from a normal player, but Alex never broke stride.
He didn't sprint. He didn't need to, just moving the ball from hand to hand, his body dodging and pivoting with a casual fluid ease that made them look like they were running in knee-deep mud.
Dane's anger slowly burned itself out, replaced by agonizing exhaustion and defeat. Hs face was red, sweat poured off him, soaking the front of his shirt. His legs felt like iron.
Every time he thought he had Alex cornered, the ball was just... gone.
The teammate was worse off, sitting on the ground, his head between his knees, dry heaving, couldn't even stand up anymore.
Dane made one last, desperate lunge. He dove for the ball, his fingers stretching for it.
Alex picked up his dribble, spun the ball on his index finger, and took a step back. Dane legs gave up and he fell to the ground as well.
Alex looked down at him, holding the ball on his hand calmly, he wasn't even breathing hard, nor a drop of sweat formed on his face.
Footsteps echoed from the edge of the court. The two teammates who had taken the injured player to the clinic walked back onto the court, stopping dead in their tracks.
They stared at the scene. Their captain, the biggest, strongest guy on their team, was sprawled on the floor under the basket, gasping for air like a dying fish.
The other teammate was curled up on the half-court line, holding his stomach.
Standing between them was a guy in jeans and a nice shirt, casually examining the basketball on his hand.
One of the returning players blinked. "...Dane? What the hell happened here? Who is this guy?"
Dane slowly rolled over, gazing at the darkening sky. He raised one trembling hand in the air. "Our new fifth..." he said between ragged, wheezing breaths. "Grab him a jersey...."
Alex caught the ball with both hands, tucking it under his arm. A small confident smirk settled on his face.
Not saying a single word, he turned and walked off the court, leaving the four players staring after him in stunned silence.
'Well.' Liza giggled softly, she was amused by performance. 'That was fun~ You almost made a grown man cry.'
'He can't be crying. He's winning this tournament~' Alex replied with a rare prideful smirk on his face.
The Succubus Queen laughed more, it was almost certain the upcoming days carried a special kind of fun...