The buzzer hadn't gone off yet.
But it felt like it should've.
Fumi stood near the three point line, chest rising fast, fingers twitching like they forgot what a basketball even felt like. The court was loud. Shoes squeaking. People shouting. The ball slammed into the floor somewhere behind him.
"Fumi! Move!"
He snapped out of it too late.
The ball whipped past his shoulder. A clean pass. Not to him.
Again.
His jaw tightened.
I was open.
He turned, running back on defense, but his legs felt heavy. Like every step dragged behind him. The scoreboard flashed above.
42 38.
They were losing.
And it was his fault.
The guy he was guarding cut past him.
Too fast.
Fumi reacted late, reaching out, but he already knew. Too slow. Always too slow.
The opponent drove straight to the rim.
Layup.
Easy.
44 38.
Cheers erupted from the other side.
Fumi stopped moving.
Just for a second.
Just enough to feel it.
That sinking feeling in his chest.
I can't keep up.
"Yo! Wake up!" his teammate yelled, shoving past him to grab the inbound.
Fumi nodded quickly.
"Yeah… yeah."
But it wasn't yeah.
Not even close.
They passed him the ball this time.
Finally.
Fumi caught it, hands slightly fumbling before gripping it tight. Everyone spread out. The noise blurred. The court felt bigger. Like too much space all at once.
One defender stood in front of him.
Waiting.
Daring him.
Do something.
Fumi dribbled once.
Then again.
The ball felt wrong.
Too light.
Too loud.
His eyes flicked to the rim.
Just shoot.
His body didn't move.
Drive.
Still nothing.
The defender stepped closer.
Fumi's heart started pounding harder.
Why can't I move?
"Clock!" someone shouted.
He froze.
Then panicked.
Fumi forced a shot.
Too rushed.
Too ugly.
The ball left his hands wrong.
It spun sideways.
Clanged hard off the rim.
Louder than everything else.
A fast break started the other way.
Fumi didn't chase.
He couldn't.
His arms dropped to his sides.
I'm… useless.
"Sub!"
The coach's voice cut through everything.
Fumi flinched.
No.
Not now.
Not like this.
He looked toward the bench.
Then back at the court.
The game kept going without him.
Like it didn't even need him.
Fumi clenched his fists.
One thought echoed louder than anything else.
…What if I never get better?
And then
The ball came flying straight back toward him.