Extra Basket-Chapter 178 - 165: Redemption?

Time: 4:00 PM – After Class

Location: Oak Hill Academy Campus Grounds

The orange afternoon sun cast long shadows across the sidewalk as the Vorpal boys made their way out of the main building. Laughter echoed as sneakers tapped casually along the concrete.

Ethan stretched his arms behind his head, exhaling.

"The nationals are still yet to be announced."

Lucas tucked his hands in his pockets.

"Well... the division isn’t fully over yet, so..."

Louie cracked his knuckles, walking backward with a smirk.

"I can’t wait to beat them up."

Evan rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"Well sure, sure..."

Brandon’s deep voice rumbled from the back.

"New monsters to defeat, huh?"

Ryan snorted.

"Come on, they’re not monsters. It’s not like they bite or something."

Josh chimed in, arms crossed.

"The thing is... we do need to level up our skills."

Aiden looked ahead toward Ethan.

"Well, we have Ethan..."

The rest of the group Coonie, Kai, and Jeremy turned to Ethan with expectant eyes.

Ethan just smiled.

"That’s why we’re going to train."

The boys all nodded, a new energy sparking between them

.

Lucas gave Ethan a sidelong glance and smiled.

"You’re something else, man."

Ethan glanced around.

"Where’s Ayumi or Amy for short?"

Lucas replied casually.

"She’s talking to Coach Fred. Handling the paperwork."

Ethan sighed.

"Must be rough."

Lucas laughed.

"You tell me."

The group chuckled, their voices blending in the soft wind of early evening.

Suddenly—

"What are you laughing at?"

They turned to see Charlotte Graves walking up, her Thunderhawks varsity jacket slung over her shoulder.

Ethan blinked.

"Oh—Charlotte, you’re here."

Lucas raised a brow.

"Sis..."

Charlotte stopped in front of them, smirking confidently.

"My team already won our match in the girls’ division cup... so I’ve got plenty of time."

Ethan smiled.

"You’re really strong."

Charlotte’s grin widened. She tilted her head slightly.

"Who’s the one who taught me?"

She looked straight at Ethan.

And that did it.

Ethan’s eyes widened. His cheeks flushed pink. He looked away quickly.

(W-What the hell was that look? That grin?!)

"What a nice view..." he mumbled, eyes suddenly glued to the trees like they were the most fascinating thing on Earth.

Charlotte puffed out her cheeks slightly, amused but not surprised.

Lucas, watching the interaction, just shook his head and sighed.

(These two... really?)

The group continued walking, the golden light of the setting sun wrapping them in its warmth.

In this moment, they weren’t just a team they were a family.

..

Meanwhile The scent of old leather, rubber soles, and dusty shelves filled the air. Sunlight filtered through the high window, casting long rectangles across the floor.

Ayumi Brooke stood beside a clipboard, double-checking the request sheets.

Across from her, Coach Fred Mason was pacing unusually serious. His stomach no longer stuck out quite as far, and his polo shirt was tucked in for once. Maybe it was the afterglow of victory. Or maybe... he was really trying.

Coach Fred scratched the back of his head.

"I already submitted the equipment request... for real this time. Cones, resistance bands, new balls, the rebounding net thing—"

Ayumi looked up from her clipboard, surprised.

"You did?"

Coach Fred chuckled sheepishly.

"Yeah. Even filled out the forms without making Ayumi do all of it this time."

He glanced at her.

Ayumi raised an eyebrow but gave a small nod.

"Progress."

There was a moment of quiet. The air felt lighter but also heavier with something unspoken.

Then Coach Fred looked away, his voice dropping low.

"...I’m sorry, Ayumi."

Ayumi blinked.

"Huh?"

He took a deep breath, and for once, didn’t try to hide behind a joke.

"I was lazy. I was incompetent. I just... coasted. Treated the team like a job instead of a purpose."

He glanced at the stack of unopened sports tape boxes nearby.

"And yet you kids still won. You trained. You believed. You pulled yourselves up."

Ayumi’s hands lowered from the clipboard.

She’d never heard this tone from him before. There was no fake laugh. No energy drink in hand. Just honesty.

"Coach..." she said quietly.

Fred smiled—not big, but sincere.

"But if you’ll still have me... I want to coach for real now. Not just stand on the sideline eating protein bars."

Ayumi stared at him a moment, then looked back at the clipboard.

"You’ll need to get better at reading playbooks."

Coach Fred laughed.

"Deal."

And for the first time in a long time, the title coach didn’t feel like a joke.

It felt earned.

.....

August 13, 2010

Location: BAC U.S. Division – Executive Suite, Imperial Crest, Virginia

Time: 4:30 P.M.

The room was minimalist — white marble flooring, sharp black furniture, and a full glass wall overlooking the Virginia skyline. The late summer sun cast a long golden line across the desk, where papers, digital files, and closed case folders waited like soldiers on standby.

Romanov Graves stood in silence, arms crossed, suit pristine. Her jet-black heels made no sound on the stone floor. The name alone Graves commanded attention. But her poise, her legacy, and her eyes? That’s what made rooms fall quiet when she entered.

Former WNBA champion.

Now, CEO of the Basketball Asian Company’s U.S. Division.

And the mother of Lucas Graves.

She wasn’t just respected.

She was feared.

Across from her stood Mira Lang, her trusted executive coordinator. Late twenties. Glasses sharp. Mind sharper.

Mira tapped on the tablet in her hand and brought up a chart, holographic interface blinking faintly.

"Any issues?" Romanov asked without turning.

"Yes, ma’am," Mira replied calmly, stepping forward.

She tapped again. The chart expanded.

"The drug that was linked to the late Greg"

Mira’s voice remained professional, but there was a flicker of concern.

"The performance-altering compound... the one designed for youth athletes. It’s appearing in lower-level circuit teams again. Unregulated."

Romanov’s eyes narrowed.

"tsk"

"But this batch is different. It’s cheaper. Less refined. But more addictive." Mira tapped a corner of the display.

"Some of the traces were found in testing results from unaffiliated AAU and underground prep league athletes. Not in ours, thankfully."

Romanov reached out and slid the screen toward her.

Her fingers hovered just above the display.

"2010... and this shit’s still leaking into grassroots?"

Mira nodded.

"This is the updated map. Hot zones are appearing near Chicago, Dallas, and unfortunately..."

She hesitated.

"...Roanoke."

Romanov’s jaw tightened.

Her eyes didn’t waver.

"Keep the press away from this. Quietly flag every supplier on this chain. And start a Level 3 investigation under the Development Health Safety Council. I want full files by the 15th."

"Understood."

"And Mira."

Mira looked up.

"Tell our talent agents to keep an eye on players showing sudden growth spikes. Any ’miracles’ on the court—we monitor."

"Yes, ma’am."

Romanov turned to the window. The clouds were gathering beyond the skyline. A storm? Or something else?

To be continue

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