The Little Bears' match was more of a melee than anything else. The gym was so tightly packed with people that Daichi feared the stands would collapse under their weight. 

He himself stood just inside the double doors, overlooking the brightly lit court. It was a great vantage point, and being this close to the door meant he could smoke undisturbed. 

Erik brought his face close to Daichi's to yell, "See, that's him!"

Daichi followed his finger to the little first-year sitting on the bench, drowning in an over-sized match shirt with the number five on it. 

So that was Malay, the boy who'd eaten Erik's paint this morning. 

There was nothing remarkable about him at first glance. Not counting the little flecks of yellow in his hair. He was almost lost in between two much larger players  and his coach, who kept charging up and down the line like a feral badger. A tiny ponytail kept his unruly hair from falling into his eyes, which was a little adorable, but his attention was locked on the game. 

It was not an outstanding match. Certainly not the kind of match that warranted such a boisterous crowd. Though Daichi didn't know enough about basketball to care about the whys and hows.

But when there was eleven minutes on the clock and the Little Bears were losing by two points, the coach suddenly yelled at the bench, motioning with his hand. It was impossible to miss how little Malay shot to his feet like a firecracker and entered the game.

Malay really was miniature, though. He looked like a child compared to his beastly teammates, especially when he was practically vibrating with excitement. He even held up some fingers toward the Reddens team, indicating just how many points he was going to score off them, which Daichi found funny.

Although Malay wasn't immediately squashed by his seniors, he was like an ant avoiding everyone's feet. His own teammates noticeably refused to pass to him and they impeded him at every turn, but he still appeared everywhere, incessantly. 

One of the Reddens got the rebound and hurled the ball across the court to their free player. That player whirled around, charging across the open court with practically a free shot for a third-pointer. But a hand came out of nowhere and stole the ball right out of his grasp. 

And then Malay was jumping. 

It was like a springboard existed beneath his feet. He just launched upward even while the captain, Otsuka, yelled at him. 

The ball left Malay's hands, sailing through the air. It sank straight through the hoop. Too high and too clean to be anything but unpredictable. No one could stop it. All they could do was watch. 

Then the silence was broken, and the gym became thunderous and deafening.

"Half-court?" Erik hollered, joining in the wild cheers. 

Malay landed, and a shiver seemed to run through him. He was grinning from ear-to-ear. This big, goofy grin with his hair sticking up in all directions. Daichi thought he looked like a bundle of sunshine. Just visibly happy to be playing on the court. 

When the game resumed, it was painful watching Malay after seeing just how elegant he could be. He couldn't charge the hoop, because Otsuka and his other teammates were tripping him up. He was often unfairly sent staggering by a foot or an elbow.

Soon the Little Bears were slick with sweat and bristling. Their narrowed gazes fell not only on the Reddens, but also on poor Malay, who was sticking to everyone like dandruff and didn't stop moving for a second. His panting marker looked light-headed from being run relentlessly from one corner of the court to another. 

But the Little Bears grew more vicious in those last five minutes. 

They were undeniably a powerful force, which beat ceaselessly against the Reddens and would overwhelm any lesser team, but they were disjointed. It was obvious even to Daichi that there was a lack of something in the team, and Malay was darting all over the place trying to pick up the slack. 

In the last two minutes, Malay scored another impossible shot. It was soaring above the Little Bears' heads, yet he seized the ball at its peak. He twisted almost painfully in the air, throwing the ball with all his might, and even as he crashed toward the ground, he was watching it sink through the hoop. 

"What a play," Erik whispered. "An impossible shot!"

The whole crowd was singing the same praises, but not one of the Little Bears approached Akira to celebrate with him. He climbed onto his feet alone, and looked astonished when the buzzer sounded. He dazedly trailed after the team and was lost in their midst. 

Daichi exited the gym and stubbed out his cigarette. He had about three hours until he needed to be at Lancing Field to fetch Nugget. Going to this match was his way of passing time with Erik, who was an avid basketball fan, but he needed to finish his art project. He could only procrastinate for so long.

He settled onto that torturous stool in the studio, and picked up the easel, and finally put his head down to work. And like that, hours passed, before:

"A hard-working student," Surya hummed sweetly in his ear. 

Daichi turned his face, coming nose-to-nose with him. "I'm working so hard I'm crying."

"No, your eyes are straining because you forgot your glasses on my couch." Surya unfurled them and slid them onto Daichi's face, nearly taking out his eye. "There, now can you tell who I am?"

"I know you?"

Leon called from somewhere out of sight. "He's the pizza man! We've brought lots, you guys, so go wild."

Leon was speaking their love language. All the artists still here had been holed up for hours, pale-faced and severely underfed, and they appeared from the woodwork to steal some slices of greasy, steaming pizza. 

Daichi helped himself to a can of soda, hoping it would keep him awake. He was still perched on his stool, while Surya leant his hip against the workshop table, looking tired. Well, he probably looked worse, but too pitiful for even Surya to make a comment. 

Daichi reached out and took Surya's waist, tugging him closer. 

Surya gazed down at him. "I'm not sure I want to be kissing a corpse."

"Do you only like me for my looks?"

Surya used his fingertips to tip Daichi's head higher. Then he dipped down to kiss him. Daichi let himself melt against him, arching slightly so he could accept more. Surya tasted like wine and pizza and thirst. He hooked his fingers around Surya's belt, craving more, but Surya eased away. 

"Ah, what about the little guy?"

"I find it insulting if you refer to my-"

Surya squeezed his cheeks to get him to shut up. "You know I meant Kenny."

Daichi froze, horrified. "Oh, shit. Nugget."