Kaho wasn't sure how long she'd been staring at Naseru and Jean-Luc, but her attention was snagged by a shrill, ear-splitting whistle. She turned her head and saw Yoshida Mai, the tour guide from that morning was standing holding a blue bib in her hands, waving it over her head like a flag. Two fellow guides stood, doing the same thing with a yellow bib and a red bib.
"Ballers with blue bibs! You'll be coming with me!" Yoshida Mai shouted.
"Red bibs with me!"
"Blue bibs with me!"
Kaho got to her feet and rushed along to form an orderly line in front of the man holding the red bib. He was shorter with a stocky frame, large, beefy forearms and a cleft chin. He, like the rest of the staff was wearing a khaki green vest. His, like Mai's had his name 'Matsumoto Shin' emblazoned on the back, and embroidered on a patch. He, however, didn't have any extra patches on. He watched as the rest of the red bibbed group gathered around, nodded at his colleagues and led Kaho and the rest of the group toward a different clearing. She turned her head and saw Naseru dragging his feet at the back.
Matsushita threw his arm around Naseru's shoulder, "What's up, Big Guy? Too much lunch?"
Naseru flinched at the contact and pressed his lips into a fine line, "I'm fine, Matsushita."
Captain Hirano crossed his arms, "Hisashi, leave him be."
"Fine," Matsushita sighed, relinquishing his grip on Naseru and striding ahead to chat with some of the other players. He passed Shoji, the kid from Kuroyama, and made his way over to a few other guys, bulkier boys with imposing statures. One had floppy light brown hair, and the other styled his dark brown hair in a quiff. They had olive skin and strong arms, power forwards or centres if Kaho had to guess. She watched Matsushita muscle his way between them and reduce both guys into peels of laughter. They clapped him on the back and the three walked along together.
Kaho paused for a moment and watched Shoji pass her by. He held an inhaler, likely his, in his closed fist. He was walking alongside Captain Isamu, and the guy who'd lent him his inhaler. Kaho could only assume he was from Seiran.
"My asthma got better as I grew up. But my Grandma nearly had a heart attack when I had my first asthma attack before I'd even gone to grade school," the guy with the eyeliner said with a shrug, "I used to wave it in her face every time I went out to play as a kid, just to show her I had it, you know? Still do. Though we both know it's more of a habit than an actual relief now. How are you feeling, Shoji?"
"Better now I've had some food and some sugar and a sit. Thanks for lending me your inhaler, Takeda."
"It's fine," he shrugged.
Kaho smiled, and turned away, allowing her to survey the walking trail around her. This path was much flatter, with a gradual incline. It lacked the shade that their morning route had had, but was by far the less arduous of the two. They were among rabbit warrens, overgrown grass and each step was a crescendo in the orchestra of cicadas.
Naseru had stopped too, like he was observing the composition from the cicada orchestra. He turned his gaze up to the sky, a few small, wispy clouds caressed the horizon in a gentle greeting. The spring air was cool against their faces as they took it in. Kaho closed her eyes and felt the breeze whisk her away to somewhere else. She felt like a dandelion seed, free and purposeful, yet guided by the whims of something bigger. It was peaceful, being insignificant. She reveled in it.
"You're not in any rush, huh?" Captain Hirano said, snapping her out of her fantasy.
His arms were crossed, but there was an amused glint in his gaze, "Do you realise how bad poor Mr Matsumoto looks when he loses two teens on the easy route."
"This is the easy route?" Kaho asked, turning her head to where Naseru had been standing in his own silent daze, "No wonder you're in no rush, Matsuoka."
"And why is that?" Captain Hirano asked, his breathing slightly laboured.
"He ran the medium trail in what, forty minutes?"
Naseru shrugged, "Looks like we've been missed, Aigawa, let's go."
They walked briskly along what remained of the dirt path toward the mouth of the trail. Compared to the steep inclines from earlier in the day, this was like a walk in the park. Kaho let out an easy breath and strode into the clearing. Mr Matsumoto, the guide looked no worse for wear. He was talking to a man with a crumpled piece of paper in his hands, and a deflated backpack, oblivious.
"We're the first group back," Captain Hirano said, "Not gonna lie, he hasn't even noticed."
Kaho laughed, incredulously, "You're kidding! You had us panicking we'd gotten him in trouble for dawdling!"
Hirano grinned and saluted them, "What's a Captain for if not to ensure his team are together."
He dashed into the fray of other basketball players. Someone, probably Yamada, had found where Ryota stashed his basketball and had started a game of piggy in the middle with Matsushita and the two guys he'd been walking with. Slowly more and more students came to join the crowd, the neon pink ball whizzing over Matsushita's head. He jumped, lunged and tried to dash for the ball, but it never reached him.
"Ahem!" Taiga exclaimed, "Boys and Kaho! Come one and come all! Our next drill awaits!"
He gestured to the gym, where, as promised, a plastic net encased the agility poles. He pulled the netting back and held his hand out for Ryota's ball. Yamada passed it to him and Taiga spun the ball on his finger.
The group stepped aside and watched Taiga pass the ball to one of the other coaches, Coach Tomogawa, who bounced Ryota's neon pink ball a few times, getting a feel for the density, the wear of each of the bumps on its skin and the crevices that carved each of the ball's segments. He nodded to Taiga.
"Now. Most of you might already be familiar with drills like this. Some schools use cones, poles, Hell, when I was in High School, we dared the kendo club to stand in as poles. But, we have these agility poles. First Years, this might be your first time doing this, so we're going to run a few demonstrations. Goro- I mean, Coach Tomogawa is going to show what you will be doing. This is a dribbling drill, and you can come and go as often as you want, however, I want you to utilise this quick means of tightening your movements. Coach, please, when you're ready."
Coach Tomogawa bounced the ball a few more times, then strode to one reasonably narrow series of poles. First, he went slowly, showing the students how he moved with patience, cool control of the ball in his fingers. He narrated the process for the crowd, explaining each of his moves like he was telling himself a formula. The Seiran kids seemed completely non-plussed about Tomogawa's style of coaching, but the others mirrored Kaho's perplexed expression. When Tomogawa went for a second time, there was no narration, the only sound was the squeak of his shoes on the waxy floor and the ball's bouncing. It was the heartbeat of the gym as he moved like the willows of a tree, an almost seamless, formless, dance as he navigated each of the poles without knocking a single one. He passed the ball back to Taiga.
Taiga proceeded to spin the ball on his finger, "I'm not expecting you to be tight. Not yet. This is just a means to assess areas to grow. There's always an opportunity to grow."
"Ah!" Taiga exclaimed, beckoning someone in, "Looks like the yellow group are here. Sorry, guys. Do you need another demonstration?"
"Another look at that?" Ryota exclaimed, "Hell yeah!"
Taiga turned on his heels and hurled the ball back at Coach Tomogawa, who shook his head with an exasperated grin. Ryota and the other yellow bibbed basketballers whooped and cheered.
"Right!" Taiga exclaimed, "Give Goro a hand, boys!"
A round of applause echoed through the hall, and the neon pink basketball found its way back into Taiga's arms. He grinned at the students and gestured to the trolley full of orange balls. He stepped back and allowed the players to form an orderly queue. Kaho left the group and stood beside her brother.
"You said Tomohiro is going to need this?"
"Yeah," Taiga whispered, "You'll see. He's very quick but lacks ball control. Until he goes, let's just enjoy."
And so they did, they watched the mixed group of basketball players from Hanagawa, Seiran and Kuroyama mingling together as they whooped and cheered for each one of the successful players that made it through the obstacles. Though, the most common sound was the clang of a fallen pole, often followed by a string of curses.
When the blue bibs returned, most headed straight to the queue, eager to see what was happening, or to the water cooler. Fumiko, despite being drenched in sweat, made a beeline for Taiga.
"Our tour guide, Yoshida mentioned that fish, too."
Taiga shrugged, "Looks like there are going to more people than us looking for it tonight."
Fumiko crossed her arms and walked away, standing beside Kaho, instead of her usual spot beside Taiga. The queue was thinning out. Some of the boys had grown impatient with waiting. Others had grown frustrated by their knocking over the agility poles.
Tomohiro was handed the ball. He looked behind him. Sunada and Konoishi gave him a thumbs up. He took a long, slow breath and bounced the ball. It hit his foot and rolled away. Konoishi passed it back. He tried again. One bounce. Then another. And another.
Then he took off, his arms were wide, like a pterodactyl. Kaho had never noticed how long his arms were, probably because he was inconspicuously average in height. But when he dribbled, his arms were like windmills. He jostled pole after pole, knocking them down like dominoes. He was a bull in a China shop. But, he didn't lose the ball, not until he reached the halfway mark, where it collided with his foot again and rolled away. Whatever laser focus Tomohiro had adopted when he tried to dribble fizzled away. He looked behind him at the destruction he'd left in his wake and his cheeks burned scarlet. He was brisk in his escape from the group's gaze.
"Coach," he swallowed, his voice was heavy and thick, like he was about to cry, "I'm sorry, I must have really embarrassed you, there."
"No, you never could. You tried. Everyone has a weakness, Tomohiro, there's no shame in that."
In a bid to distract the group from gawking at Tomohiro and making him feel worse, Taiga put his hands on his hips and grinned, "This is just the opening act. Just you wait. You'll love your cool down tonight, boys! It'll be a splash!"