It would be a lie to say Surya never bickered with Daichi, especially in the beginning when Daichi secretly liked to escalate even the smallest disagreements to the brink of all-out violence. But confrontation itself made his skin prickle. His heart lodged in his throat, and anxiety drew him so taut that he felt he'd snap in half. 

It was only after weeks of sidling up to Daichi that Daichi succeeded in needling a genuine outburst from him. An actual shout before he clapped a startled hand over his mouth, feeling a sense of dread and shame. Yet nothing happened after that. He wasn't ignored at the table or neglected in their dorm. In fact, at the digs party they attended later that night, Daichi still drunkenly attached a balloon to Surya's hair so he could find him later. 

Fighting was normal; that's what Surya kept telling himself. Some conflict was inevitable and even healthy, because it meant he wasn't sacrificing what he liked or disliked in this relationship. 

What wasn't acceptable was cornering some first-year into studying and showing such obvious judgment for a single hickey on that first-year's neck. He also shouldn't have shamed Akira for those marks, even if they were dismal. 

An apology was necessary. So here he was.

He snuck up the fire escape stairwell and found Daichi waiting. The instant he lowered his hood, Daichi's emotionless (practically psychopathic) expression came to life. He stepped out of the gym to greet him with a hug. Then he enthusiastically began helping Surya dust off the worst of the snow, but Surya still accidentally tracked it inside the gym as he followed Daichi passed a group of photographers clustered by the railing. 

The stands were unusually empty, so every sound echoed like they were sitting in a tin-can. Loudest of all were the players' calls and the ball smashing against the court. The two teams looked like gnats to Surya, exploding into action and dashing everywhere. 

As he and Daichi sat in the second-highest tier, the referees signalled that they would be starting in a minute. The players peeled away to sit on the bench, and only then was Akira revealed. The tiny first-year was motioning discreetly toward the Cobras, explaining something to Asahi, who nibbled on the lip of his bottle. 

Akira was interrupted when one of his teammates knocked him with their shoulder, and he pried himself away from Asahi to go sit on the bench. The last two reserves passed him staggering all the way to the end of it, and he tripped to the ground. But without missing a beat, he was on his feet again and squeezing onto the narrow end of the bench. 

Surya scratched his neck. "Uh, remind me again what the positions are?"

"As if I'd know something like that," Daichi retorted. 

But Daichi still lifted his hand in an attempt to catch Erik's attention, so they could get some answers. When that failed, he whistled, and was visibly startled when both Erik and Akira looked up. 

He wasn't the only one who stiffened. It felt like they'd been caught peeping through a window, and Surya felt a flush of what could only be described as embarrassment. Why was he here just hours after picking a fight with Akira? Wasn't he being too shameless?

Daichi tried to save them by giving an awkward but cheerful wave to Akira, like he'd intended to catch his attention. And Akira, ever the sweetest, shot him a brief but beaming smile, and returned to watching the referee check the length of the Cobras' finger nails again. It was impossible to tell what he was really thinking.

"I'm guessing that was a mistake," Erik laughed, climbing over to join Daichi and Surya. 

"I don't make those," Daichi responded. "Can you give us any context?"

"For fellow fans-to-be? Sure," Erik excitedly began pointing. "The Cobras are notoriously rough players. They rack up fouls like they're trying to beat some record no one else knows about. That's why this is a private match. Like last year, it got so out of hand that the crowd became involved. They were breaking bottles and trying to tear out each other's hair. We're particularly defensive because that guy there, Miyazaki, nearly wrecked Riggs' ankle."

Daichi looked indifferent, so it was a surprise when he asked, "What position is that?"

"Shooting guard," Erik answered. 

The whistle blew, and Otsuka and the other point guard leapt inhumanly high for it. It was won by the Cobras, who ploughed toward the basket. 

"How did Miyazaki manage that?" Surya asked. "Hurting Riggs, I mean?"

Erik lifted his shoulders. "I thought it was just how Riggs landed, but when I watched the video with Akira, it's obvious that he used screening against the ref in a forced collision. It's also not the first time he's caused some serious injuries."

Daichi looked at him. "You're watching videos with Akira?"

"Yeah, man, it's called making friends."

Surya intervened before they started squabbling by noting, "But Miyazaki isn't opposite Riggs right now."

"Riggs' playing style is too straight-laced to check all of Miyazaki's dirty plays. That's why Asahi's on it." Erik grinned proudly. "Asahi is like an impregnable wall."

"Love blinds you," Daichi said. "Pretty sure I watched that last team get passed Asahi repeatedly just the other day."

"Shut up," Erik snapped. 

"So then if they keep Miyazaki out of the game," Surya mused, "the Little Bears will win?"

"They'll win," Erik stubbornly assured him. "But even if Miyazaki is slowed or drawn out of the paint, the rest of his team is strong. They're fifth in the league and probably would've been higher if they weren't blown for so many red cards."

"Tell us more about our team," Daichi said. "Who are those two?"

Erik blanked. "Seriously? You're that out of it?"

Daichi waved his hand dismissively. "I've never been interested in basketball."

"So what's caught your interest now?" Erik demanded. 

Surya didn't miss the way Daichi tore his eyes away from Akira to glare at Erik. 

"We're here because Surya needs to take care of his mentee," he bit. 

Surya nodded. "I'm going to be the best mentor."

"As a seasoned shepherd of the little people," Erik said, "my advice is that you can't go wrong with chocolate."

Daichi cracked a grin. 

Suffice to say, the match was brutal, with Miyazaki tearing into the Little Bears. Asahi couldn't keep him out of the paint, and Miyazaki was viciously dunking one ball after another. They called a team-out when Dassin nearly lost an eye to him. 

When the Little Bears trudged toward the bench, their tempers were running high. Otsuka snapped something at Asahi, and Asahi shoved him hard in the chest, sending him stumbling back a step. That earned him a short tussle with Riggs before he marched up to Akira, who shrank away from him. 

"Is he going to hit him?" Daichi asked quietly, and when Surya glanced at him, he was surprised to see that clenched jaw.

"He can't," Erik reassured Daichi, though he sounded a little uncertain. "He won't risk getting a card."

Akira stood, seemingly rushing through whatever he wanted to tell Asahi, but the whistle interrupted him. He whipped around to the coach with a pleading look, but the coach pointed at the bench. 

"The rumour is that the coach apparently has to let Akira play in the last quarter if they're losing," Erik said. "But the goal difference will be the problem."

One of the photographers chirped, "The regulars shouldn't be relying so much on the squirt, though."

"The squirt is our saviour!" Erik cheered.

Surya became engrossed in the game despite himself. He watched how each of the Little Bears was steadily out-manoeuvred and overwhelmed. In the second quarter, they were down by fifteen points and were snapping at each other. 

Meanwhile, the Cobras grew more confident and forceful, making little quips that further demoralised the Little Bears and contributed to the accumulating mistakes. Riggs's shots kept rebounding, and he was beginning to limp. Dassin and Asahi kept being screened and beaten back. The former's play became uglier by the second, and he was nearly blown numerous times for fouls. 

It was awful to watch such a slow and pitiful death. The Little Bears' teamwork was falling to pieces. 

"None of them believe they're going to win," Daichi muttered. 

Erik agreed. "Half-time will help break the Cobras' streak."

But the third quarter wasn't any better. Most of the Little Bears were winded from an elbow to their gut, and Otsuka was nursing a horrible bruise from when Miyazaki sent the ball smashing into his shoulder. 

Worse, Asahi was so painfully slow. He seemed incapable of grabbing even a fistful of Miyazaki's shirt. He kept swapping with Otsuka to try and trap Miyazaki, but the Cobras' point guard, Abe, wasn't that much easier to handle. 

Suddenly, Akira shot to his feet and yelled, "Left! Left!"

Asahi and Riggs spun around, but it was too late. The ball found Miyazaki again, and he jumped above Asahi's hand, shooting a three-pointer. 

"Just-" Akira choked as one of the reserves caught his collar, yanking him onto the bench. He still tried to yell, "Trap the point guard, not-"

"Malay," the coach bellowed. 

Akira immediately shut up. 

But then, inexplicably, Asahi pointed at him. Then Riggs did. And finally, much to everyone's shock, Otsuka called for their second and last time-out. He pointed at Akira, who shot onto the court like a bullet. It was quite the sight to see all those giants crowding around him as he spoke.

The whistle blew, and Akira went for the bench, but Otsuka caught his collar, jolting him to a stop and nearly lifting him off his feet. He said something to his regulars, and Dassin threw up his hands, striding for the bench with his heavily bandaged eye. 

And Akira was finally on the court. 

The game started, and the referee tossed the ball high and hard. Abe jumped, but Otsuka startled the Cobras by staying on the ground. Not even Riggs charged. So Abe easily threw the ball to Miyazaki, who lifted his hands lazily to catch. 

But the ball never connected. 

Akira materialised like a bolt of lightning in front of him, and somehow diverted the ball straight to Riggs at the peak of his jump. And that was how they scored their first three-pointer. In less than a minute. It was the smoothest, cleanest play of the game. 

That was the last time Akira beat the ball to Miyazaki, but again and again, he stuck to him like gum. If Miyazaki mistakenly passed too low, he recoiled from Akira's steals. If he was too slow or not solely focused on trapping that crazily energetic first-year, then Riggs would score from each and every one of Akira's passes. 

Somehow, Akira never failed to dart around Miyazaki like a fly he could not shake no matter how hard he swatted. And he did swat. For all the assists Akira gave Riggs, he earned a new bruise. But no matter what, the ball was given to Riggs from Asahi's possession of rebounds, Otsuka's and Rylen's blocks, and Akira's steals, regardless of where Riggs was on the court. 

But, of course, it was inevitable that the Cobras would catch on. As the game reset, Akira held up a finger to Otsuka. When the ball was tossed, Abe leapt up for it and sent it to his shooting guard. Not Miyazaki. And in the blink of an eye, Akira was stealing it, letting it soar toward Rylen, who had moved into an open space. Rylen scored, looking stunned. 

It was all playing out exactly as Akira predicted. He was setting the Cobras up for plays three sets before it happened. He cast doubt on Miyazaki being a viable option without being ambitious about it. He had cut short Miyazaki's rampage in the paint.

Then Akira gave a thumbs up to Otsuka, who finally jumped for the ball-toss. The captain caught it, and simply let it roll just behind him. It bounced once before Akira was throwing it at the basket. It sank cleanly, and Akira laughed. 

But Akira's main battle was with Miyazaki. He impeded him at every turn, until a riled Miyazaki consequently started hounding him. They drew each other out of the game. 

At the end of the match, it was a tiebreaker, but a foul earned Riggs two free throws. He obviously sank both, and the Little Bears scraped out their second win of the season. But Surya was just watching Miyazaki and Akira. While Miyazaki was breathless and fatigued, Akira was limping and badly bruised. Yet none of their teammates clapped them on the back or thanked them. 

Once Erik left, Daichi discreetly twined his fingers through Surya's, hiding their hands between their legs. "He might deserve a chocolate just for this game, huh?"

Surya wouldn't admit that he was impressed. 

"I brought one for Nugget, too," Surya offered. 

"He and I thank you." Daichi then shot him a small smirk. "We've both got a baby to attend to."

"I don't want to ruin my one's after-game high."

"You'll make it better if you revoke your threat."

Surya was frowning. "I still want him to meet all the conditions I set, though."

Daichi had a look of amused disbelief as he asked, "But you want him to do it without feeling threatened?"

Surya reluctantly admitted, "Maybe."

Daichi gave his hand a squeeze. "I have to run, honey. I'm sure you'll do the right thing, but do it better. Now, I'm off to rescue the Nugget. Be brave!"

Surya didn't think apologising would be all that easy.