Extra Basket-Chapter 200 - 187: Forest vs Vorpal (12)

The horn had buzzed.

But the noise hadn’t settled.

Not really.

It hovered in the air a restless hum of heartbeats and rising tension. The kind of hush that wasn’t silence at all, just a collective breath held by everyone in the gym.

Sweat slicked the hardwood, glinting like oil under the arena lights.

One minute left in the half.

Louie stood at center court, bent slightly at the hips, his dribble low and slow. His fingers barely touched the ball. Just enough contact to keep it alive.

He didn’t look across the line.

He didn’t need to.

He felt Elijah Rainn there. Like pressure in the air before a thunderstorm. Cool. Still. Watching.

"One minute, huh..." Louie muttered, a crooked grin twitching at the edge of his lips. It didn’t reach his eyes. Not this time.

His teammates fanned out. Kai took the left wing, Coonie slithered to the deep corner. Jeremy curled off a pin-down near the arc. Aiden hung in the dunker spot, lurking just off the baseline, hands ready.

In the back of Louie’s mind, Lucas’s words echoed:

"Leave it at zero or higher."

Louie exhaled slow.

Alright then. Let’s draw blood.

Across from them, Forest slid into formation fluid, precise.

Elijah raised two fingers, then gave a short, downward wave.

It was subtle. But Vorpal saw it. And more importantly, Louie saw it.

A shifting 2-3. Morphing at the top. Kael and Mason high, Tobias shadowing the elbows. Ayden floating underneath. A defense that didn’t just guard—it adapted.

But Elijah didn’t press up. Didn’t gamble.

He flowed.

Like water inside a sealed bottle.

Louie tapped the ball once, twice. Then attacked.

A sudden explosion of movement a blur peeling off Jeremy’s screen. Kael stepped into the lane to hedge body wide, arms up.

Louie didn’t stop.

He threaded the gap.

"NOW!" he yelled, as Coonie ghosted along the baseline, catching the pass on the move.

Elijah rotated a clean, instinctive slide.

Too fast?

Coonie didn’t force the shot. One bounce pass behind the defense to Aiden.

But—

Tobias’s fingers flicked out, just enough.

The ball pinballed, slipping away like a soap bubble, loose on the floor.

Louie dived.

Elijah dived with him.

They crashed together palms slapping the ball at the same time.

The gym exploded.

The whistle cut through it all, sharp and final.

Jump ball.

Ref pointed.

Possession: Vorpal.

:38 on the clock.

Louie pushed off the floor and stood, his chest rising like a drumbeat in his ears. His palms stung. He didn’t brush them off.

He locked eyes with Elijah.

Finally.

No words.

But Elijah’s gaze said everything.

You’re forcing it.

And you don’t need to.

Not now.

Louie’s grin widened. There was something mad in it. But also something honest.

"I won’t force it," he said aloud, voice low, voice certain.

"I’ll earn it."

Inbound.

Kai to Jeremy.

Louie drifted to the weak side, then cut hard left off a stagger screen, Kai and Coonie shoulder to shoulder.

Kael tried to track it. Fought over. Late.

Catch.

Left wing.

Louie had space. A breath’s worth.

Shot fake.

Kael flew by, overeager.

One dribble. Pull-up.

Elbow jumper.

Clean release. Tight spin.

Clang.

Back iron.

Aiden crashed the glass, tip-out!

Coonie saved it from the sideline, diving to slap it back toward the arc.

Jeremy caught. :22.

Louie reset.

Jeremy looked over.

Louie shook his head.

"Run it again. Weak side cut."

Coonie slithered baseline. Kai slipped screen.

Jeremy passed—

But Elijah had read it.

He didn’t guess.

He knew.

Slid into the lane like it was scripted. Arms spread, ready.

Louie caught. Elijah in his chest.

"You don’t have time, Louie."

Louie squared up.

"Then I’ll make time."

He pivoted, dropped his shoulder.

Drive.

Middle lane. Two hard dribbles.

Elijah mirrored him. Step for step. Balanced. Centered.

Louie rose. Elijah rose with him.

Mid-air. Collision of silhouettes.

Louie twisted, searching space—

Double clutch. Left hand. Float—

SWAT.

Elijah Rainn.

A left-handed block, soft as a page turn. Clean. No body. No foul.

The ball skittered to the corner.

Kael snatched it.

:07.

Forest ran.

Kael burst up the right side Louie was still recovering.

Kai rotated, blocked Ayden’s lane.

Kick-out.

Top of the key.

Mason.

Wide open.

:02.

The shot went up.

Louie turned, frozen mid-step, watching.

The arc hung like a question mark.

Swish.

47 – 43.

The buzzer screamed.

And the gym finally exhaled.

Forest’s bench erupted not with arrogance, but with precision. Claps. Slaps. Controlled fire.

Coach Nguyen nodded once, nothing more.

His players filed off in rhythm. Focused. Upright. Reset.

No yelling. No ego.

Just momentum.

Across the court, Vorpal’s bench was quieter.

Not silent.

Not broken.

But something had shifted.

Louie stood alone for a beat, still at the scorer’s side, sweat dripping down the bridge of his nose. He didn’t sit. Didn’t towel off.

Just looked.

First at the scoreboard.

Then—

At the player now walking toward the scorer’s table.

Lucas Graves.

Cool eyes. Calm breath. Arms loose at his side.

He didn’t announce himself. Didn’t need to.

Louie stepped back as Lucas stepped forward.

They exchanged no words.

Only weight.

Only legacy.

Lucas whispered, just loud enough for Louie to hear.

"My turn."

And as he walked past, the light caught his eyes—

Not green.

Not brown.

But gold.

Halftime over.

The second half... belonged to captains.

Meanwhile on the other side, Forest Basket....

the door clicked shut behind them.

No yelling.

No panic.

Just silence.

The kind of silence that stretched between trees when the wind paused. The kind of quiet that made predators sharpen their instincts.

Elijah Rainn stood in the center of the room. Sweat clung to his arms. His breath was steady, but his mind was loud.

He looked around at his teammates one by one—

𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Micah Vale, sitting with his eyes closed, hands pressed together like in prayer.

Kael Moreno, bouncing his knee, gripping his shorts, jaw tight.

Tobias Grey, staring at his shoes. Not broken. Just rooted. Silent.

Ayden Liu, still wiping his face, whispering to himself like he was mapping wind patterns only he could see.

Then Elijah spoke.

Softly.

"Are we scared?"

No one answered.

He raised his eyes.

"Because if we are... let’s admit it now. And then let it die."

Micah opened his eyes.

Kael stopped bouncing.

Tobias looked up.

Ayden stood straighter.

Elijah stepped forward, untying and retying his shoes as he spoke.

"That fire on the court? That wasn’t just talent. That was freedom. Improvisation. Chaos."

He paused, standing now.

"But we are the forest. And the forest always grows back."

"You don’t put out fire by screaming at it. You put it out by choking it. With air. With silence. With strategy."

Kael muttered, "You got a plan?"

Elijah didn’t smile.

But his eyes sparked.

To be continue