On screen on the CRT television, Kagoa watched Noah in the virtual world, his duel monsters clashing. Kagao sat on the floor inches from the tv.
"Shadow Realm!" Purple energy swirled across the screen.
"Kagao." His mother's voice came from the doorway. "It's almost eight. You have school tomorrow."
"But Dad's not home yet." Kagao didn't look away from the TV. Yugi's Dark Magician was powering up for an attack. "I want to tell him about P.E. class."
"You can tell him tomorrow."
"It can't wait until tomorrow!" Kagao turned to face his mother. Misa Ori stood in the doorway, arms crossed, amused.
"Mom, it's really important. I have to tell him tonight."
"What's so important it can't wait?"
"Basketball stuff." Kagao turned back to the TV. "Dad will understand."
Misa sighed. She moved into the room, settling onto the couch behind him. Her hand rested lightly on his head, fingers combing through his red hair. "Your sister went to bed an hour ago."
"Ten more minutes?" Kagao glanced up at her with his best pleading expression. "Please? Dad's always home by eight."
"Fine." She patted his head. "Ten minutes. Then bed, whether he's home or not."
Kagao grinned and turned back to Yu-Gi-Oh. His attention changed, though, not really following the duel anymore, instead focusing on the clock on the wall, which showed 7:54 PM.
'Come on, Dad. Get home.'
He could still feel the basketball in his hand. 'He's gonna think it's so cool what I did.'
On screen, Yugi played a trap card. Noah's monster dissolved into pixels,but Kagao barely saw it. His eyes kept flicking to the clock.
7:58 PM.
'What if he doesn't come home until late? What if there's work stuff?'
The worry gnawed at him. Sometimes Dad didn't get home until nine or ten. Sometimes even later if something big happens at work. Mom would save him dinner, warming it up in the microwave when he finally came through the door.
Kagao then heard it - the sound of a key in the front door. His heart jumped. He got up to his feet, abandoning Yu-Gi-Oh mid-duel.
"Dad!"
Yoichiro Ori stepped through the doorway, briefcase in hand, tie loosened. He was Six-foot-two and was forty-eight years old and carrying the weight of Tokyo's police department on his shoulders, but when he saw Kagao rushing toward him, his tired expression softened into a smile.
"Hey, kiddo." He set his briefcase down just in time for Kagao to crash into him. "Still up? It's a school night."
"I had to wait for you!" Kagao grabbed his father's hand, tugging him toward the living room. "Dad, you won't believe what happened in P.E. today!"
"Yoichiro," Misa rose from the couch. "He's been waiting all evening."
"I can see that," Yoichiro walked into the living room. He sank onto the couch with a quiet groan.
"Alright, what's got you so excited?"
Kagao jumped up and down, words tumbling out. "We played basketball! In P.E.! And Dad, I was so good! The teacher said I was amazing and everyone was watching me and I made all my shots and we won the game and-"
"Slow down." Yoichiro held up a hand, but he was smiling. "Basketball in P.E.? That's great. Tell me what happened from the beginning."
"Okay. So, Tanaka brought out basketballs for class. Everyone else wanted to play baseball, but I was excited because you watch basketball. Then we did dribbling drills, and Dad, it was so easy. Like, I just touched the ball, and my hands knew what to do. I could dribble with both hands right away."
"Both hands?" Yoichiro asked. "Left and right? Switching between them?"
"Yeah! And then we did shooting, and I made five shots in a row and then seven more, and everyone was watching-"
"Twelve shots in a row? From where? How far from the basket?"
"The free throw line, but closer." Kagao gestured vaguely. "About this far."
"Twelve feet, maybe." Yoichiro glanced at Misa, then back to Kagao. "What else?"
"We played a game! Misu and Sakura against Giju's team. I scored a bunch of points and got rebounds and blocked shots and-" Kagao paused, remembering. "There was this one play where I dribbled between someone's legs, and everything felt perfect, and then I scored, and everyone was yelling."
Yoichiro sat back, silent for a moment. His expression was hard to read.
'Does he believe me?' Kagao thought in worry.
"Kagao," Yoichiro said seriously. "Did Tanaka say anything to you after class?"
"Oh! Yeah!" Kagao had almost forgotten. "He said I have a gift and I'm special at basketball, and I should join a youth team. He's gonna give you information about teams."
"A gift," Yoichiro repeated the word. His gaze focused on something past Kagao's shoulder, thoughts clearly elsewhere.
'Wilt Chamberlain,' Yoichiro thought. That was the comparison that came to mind, and Jordan. Yoichiro had lived in the States for ten years, from ages ten through twenty, before moving back to Japan.
He'd seen basketball at every level: pickup games in LA, high school championships, college games at UCLA. He knew what natural talent looked like, and he knew what Kagao was describing shouldn't be possible for a third grader.
"Dad?" Kagao's voice pulled him back. "Are you mad?"
"What? No." Yoichiro looked at his son's worried face. "No, I'm not mad. I'm impressed. Listen. This weekend, we're going to sign you up for a youth basketball league, and next week, if I can get out of work early, I'll take you to the public courts near Shibuya Station. You can play with older kids, see how you do."
Kagao's face lit up. "Would you have time?"
"I'll make time."
"But your work-" Misa said.
"I'll make time," Yoichiro repeated, meeting his wife's eyes, understanding passing between them.
"YES!" Kagao jumped up, pumping his fist. "I get to play more basketball!"
"But first," Misa interjected, standing up. "Bed. Right now. No arguments."
"Aww-"
"Kagao," Yoichiro said in a stern tone. "Your mother's right, school tomorrow. Go get ready for bed."
"Fine." But Kagao was already too happy to get upset. He turned toward the stairs, then stopped. "Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for making time."
Yoichiro felt guilt in his chest. How many times had he said he'd make time, and then work got in the way? How many school events had he missed, promises broken because of the job?
"Go on," he said. "Brush your teeth."
Misa waited until she heard Kagao's bedroom door close before turning to her husband. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That look. The one you get when you're working on a case." She sat back down beside him. "What aren't you saying?"
"What Kagao described... that's not normal talent, Misa. That's not even exceptional talent. That's something else entirely."
"He's always been athletic-"
"This isn't about being athletic." Yoichiro leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I've watched basketball my entire life; what Kagao described sounded like a talent that might rival even Jordan."
"You think he's that good?"
"I think he might be better. We need to support this and see how he develops against better competition. If he's this good at eight, by the time he's in middle school, he'd be a monster."
"You'll really make time? With everything at work?"
"The World Cup's taking up resources," Yoichiro admitted. "Security preparations, coordination with Korean authorities, managing the crowds we're expecting. It's been insane. May's going to be worse." He met his wife's eyes. "But yeah, I'll make time."
"Just... don't put pressure on him." Misa gripped his hand. "He's eight. He should have fun."
"I know." Yoichiro squeezed her hand. "Trust me, I know. The last thing I want is to ruin this for him by making it about expectations." He smiled slightly. "Did you hear how excited he was? That's what matters. Keeping that excitement alive."