204: Hina’s Warning 204: Hina’s Warning Another roar of excitent exploded from the crowd, echoing across the gymnasium like a thunderclap.
Throughout the intense match, Kouhei had beco the center of attention, sinking four consecutive three-point shots with flawless precision—an incredible twelve-point streak that sent waves of energy through the court.
Now, the once daunting thirty-point lead held by Sotomura had been chipped down to just twenty-one.
The opposing team still hadn’t managed to add to their score, and their grip on the ga was starting to feel shaky.
There were still roughly seven minutes left on the clock.
The point difference remained significant, but if Kouhei and his team kept up this montum for the remainder of the match, it wasn’t out of the question—they might actually catch up.
And if things continued like this, they could even surpass Sotomura.
And that… that would be humiliating.
Especially for soone like Sotomura—a player who had always been considered a basketball prodigy.
Praised and admired for his skills in the club, respected for his technique, and known for being one of the top-tier talents.
Losing to soone like Kouhei—who didn’t even seem like he’d played basketball seriously before this—was sothing his pride couldn’t stomach.
That was precisely why he couldn’t afford to let them build any further montum.
One spark could lead to an inferno, and if it got out of control… it’d be ga over for him.
And so, the next five minutes of the match played out like a tug-of-war with pressure mounting on both sides.
The gap between the scores gradually narrowed, inch by inch, as Kouhei pushed forward with relentless determination.
But no matter how close they got, it wasn’t quite enough to overtake Sotomura.
Kouhei had beco the main target now—three mbers of Sotomura’s team were on him like a pack of wolves, closing in every ti he tried to make a move.
His breathing grew heavier, his steps more calculated, as he tried to maneuver around the suffocating defense.
He could barely shift his position without being t with resistance.
The score gap still stood at thirteen points.
It wasn’t as crushing as it had been earlier, but with only two minutes left, they still weren’t out of danger.
Ti was ticking, and the clock felt louder with every passing second.
The atmosphere in the stands had shifted entirely.
A thick tension hung in the air, palpable and nerve-wracking.
The crowd had gone from wild excitent to gripping anticipation.
Among them stood Hiyori, her eyes wide, her breath caught in her throat ever since Kouhei had entered the court.
Her hands were clenched tightly together in front of her chest, knuckles white.
She felt her heart pound each ti Kouhei made a shot—fluttering with excitent and pride—but at the sa ti, the creeping anxiety gnawed at her.
No matter how hard he pushed, they still hadn’t managed to bridge the gap completely.
It was as if ti and points were slipping through their fingers.
She wanted to scream, to shout his na and cheer him on with all her heart—but embarrassnt anchored her voice down.
So instead, she mouthed her encouragent silently, lips trembling with nervous energy.
“Okumura-kun, you can do this…!” The words passed through her lips, unheard by anyone else.
She whispered them into the air, hoping he could sohow feel her support across the court.
Of course, no one would have known who she was cheering for—at least, not visibly.
No one, except the white-haired girl who stood right beside her—Hina.
“You seem to be cheering for soone, Ichinose Hiyori…” Hina said, her voice cool and unwavering as her sharp eyes shifted toward Hiyori.
“Am I mistaken, or are you directing your support to a particular person?” “E-Eh?
What do you an, Saionji-san?” Hiyori responded, eyes blinking rapidly as her face flushed a deep shade of red.
“I’m asking whether you’re cheering for only one specific person… and by that, I an Kouhei.” “Eh…?” The word escaped her lips in a high, panicked tone, her cheeks burning.
“N-No!
That’s not it!
I’m obviously cheering for everyone.” Her voice cracked slightly—pitched higher from embarrassnt.
It wasn’t just because she’d been caught, but because Hina was actually speaking to her properly.
Normally, Hina would only offer the shortest responses—a nod here, a curt “yes” or “no” there.
This was the first ti she’d engaged her in an actual conversation.
“There’s no need to pretend, Ichinose Hiyori,” Hina said flatly, not even blinking.
“You’re in love with Kouhei, aren’t you?” The words dropped like a weight between them.
Right then, another cheer erupted from the crowd.
Kouhei had sunk another three-pointer.
The timing was perfect.
The noise drowned Hina’s words to the rest of the spectators.
No one else heard her.
Except Hiyori.
“Eh…?” Hiyori froze.
Her voice faltered, her brain struggling to catch up with what she’d just heard.
Confusion, shock, and overwhelming embarrassnt filled her chest like a balloon ready to burst.
“You’re very much in love with Kouhei,” Hina repeated, her voice devoid of emotion.
“I-Is that bad…?” Hiyori stamred out.
“That I’m in love with him?
I an… it’s not like you’re dating him, right?” There was a subtle shift in her tone.
It was no longer just defensive—it sounded like a challenge.
She was confronting a rival.
She had sothing to protect.
Hina’s eyes flicked to her.
For a mont, she looked like she was about to say sothing—sothing important.
That she and Kouhei were actually dating now.
But she stopped herself.
That was still a secret.
A carefully guarded one.
“I’m not saying it’s bad or wrong,” Hina said quietly.
“I’m just saying… you might not be able to handle him.” “What do you an exactly by that?
Are you saying I don’t asure up to him?
Or that I’m just not his type or sothing?” Hiyori’s voice trembled slightly, her brows furrowed in confusion and a hint of frustration.
Her chest tightened, trying to decipher what Hina was getting at.
“No, it’s not that.
It’s…” Hina replied, her voice low and calm.
She slowly leaned closer, closing the distance between them until her lips were right by Hiyori’s ear.
Her breath brushed softly against her skin, sending an involuntary shiver through her body.
And then, in a whisper that cut straight through the air, she uttered a single, taboo word— “Sex.” “S-S-Sex…!?” Hiyori nearly choked on the word.
Her voice cracked sharply, and her cheeks imdiately burst into flas.
She instinctively looked around, panicked, praying no one else had heard that explosive word escape her lips.
“That’s right,” Hina continued, unfazed and composed.
“Sex.
You know?
You’re not ready for that.
You can’t handle it.
His thing is… like this, you know?” Without warning, she lifted her hand and placed it casually near her own crotch, holding her palm flat against her lower abdon—then slowly slid it upward until it hovered just above her navel.
Her fingers marked the size with shocking confidence, her hand tracing the shape Kouhei had hidden beneath his clothes.
Hiyori’s eyes widened in disbelief, her breath caught in her throat.
Her face went from red to crimson in an instant.
Her brain struggled to process what she had just seen, what she had just heard—especially coming from Hina, of all people.
“W-Wait, Saionji-san, d-don’t tell you’ve…!?” It was then that Hina finally showed sothing Hiyori had never seen from her before.
A smile.
But not just any smile—a sly, dangerous, teasing one that curled at the corners of her lips like a spark about to ignite sothing wild.
It wasn’t kind.
It wasn’t warm.
It was mischievous.
And it made the hairs on Hiyori’s arms stand on end.
“Although we’re not dating,” Hina said with a cool, almost indifferent tone, “that doesn’t an we can’t do it, right?” Then, without another word, Hina turned her back and walked away.
Her posture was elegant, composed—but sothing about her steps, the sway of her hips, felt victorious.
Confident.
Hiyori stood frozen in place, watching the distance between them grow with every click of Hina’s heels on the floor.
“D-Did she really just co here just to tell that…?” the thought echoed inside her head like a bell tolling.
It didn’t feel like casual gossip.
No… it felt like a challenge.
A warning.
*** On the court, the tension was suffocating.
The match between Takahashi and Sotomura had reached its boiling point.
Only thirty seconds remained on the clock, and the scoreboard flashed with a difference of just five points.
Takahashi had the ball.
His movents were sharp, weaving through defenders like a blade through silk.
He swept across the floor with purpose, eyes locked on the basket—but then, sensing danger, passed the ball toward Kouhei.
But Sotomura was fast—too fast.
He intercepted imdiately, forcing Kouhei to redirect the pass once again.
The ball sailed to another teammate, who didn’t hesitate to shoot.
The ball flew.
The crowd held their breath.
Swish.
It went in.
Now only three points stood between the teams.
The mont the ball hit the floor, Sotomura grabbed it and darted to the opposite side of the court.
He didn’t stop to think.
He didn’t calculate.
He simply moved.
And then, without pause, he launched the shot.
But Kouhei wasn’t done.
He appeared like a shadow out of nowhere, leaping high into the air—arms outstretched—slamming his hand against the ball.
A clean, brutal block.
It was unreal.
Sotomura was massive, built like a tank.
And yet, Kouhei had denied him.
Without missing a beat, Kouhei landed, pivoted, and sprinted down the court.
The arena roared in a frenzy.
Only ten seconds left.
He could feel the clock ticking in his veins.
The noise.
The weight of the ball.
The pressure was crushing.
As he reached the edge of the three-point line, Sotomura ca charging in like a freight train.
No ti to think.
Kouhei planted his feet and took the shot.
The ball rose high into the air, arcing like a slow-motion bullet.
Everyone’s eyes followed it—ti itself seed to freeze.
It didn’t sink cleanly.
It bounced against the rim once.
Then again.
It rolled around the edge—teasing, circling, dancing on the edge of fate.
And then—it dropped off the side.
The ball missed.
The buzzer sounded.
Ti was up.
Silence blanketed the court.
The shot didn’t make it.
And just like that, it was over.
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