The Shadow Manager: The Girl Who Controls Shohoku Basketball Club - Two New Faces and Old Wounds

──What a stupid, stupid dream that was. I, Inoue Ayako, gripped the stopwatch in my hand so tightly it hurt, as if I could crush the vivid memories that surged back every time I closed my eyes. *(I almost did it again. The same thing all over again.)* The scene I'd witnessed yesterday in the rain wouldn't leave my mind. Ryota, with that Akagi Haruko, framed in a picture-perfect moment of youth. And then, I'd run away. Just like that cursed after-school day back in middle school. *(A manager having romantic feelings for a player is absolutely unforgivable.)* My job is to make the team win. To support the players from the shadows so they can perform at their best. Romance is nothing but noise that disrupts the team's order. My head understands that. I understand it perfectly. And yet, why──? A tight, aching squeeze gripped my chest. The gymnasium, on the eve of our joint practice with Ryonan High and tomorrow's practice match, was filled with an unusual, razor-sharp tension. The squeal of rubber soles against the humid wooden floor echoed louder than usual. "Oraa! Watch and learn from a genius's moves, you damn fox!" Hanamichi had abandoned his position without waiting for the pass, obsessively trying to mark Rukawa. That idiot. At it again. I tucked my clipboard under my arm, drew a slow breath, and tried to switch myself back into the usual, composed Ayako. "Hanamichi, your position! How many times do I have to tell you? Don't disrupt the team play!" "Whoa! Ayako-san! Y-yes, ma'am!" At my sharp rebuke, Hanamichi shrugged dramatically and reluctantly broke into a run. Good. That's how it should be. I am the manager who controls this team. There's no room for personal feelings to slip in. I had just forced the lid back onto the turmoil in my heart, when── *Clatter, clatter, clatter.* The gymnasium's heavy iron doors groaned open. In that instant, the movement of every player on the floor stopped. A lukewarm spring breeze, carrying dust, swept into the gym. Beyond the doors stood a group in unfamiliar, stark white uniforms. Ryonan High. At their head was a player with a gorilla-like physique, apparently their captain. And beside him, a single female student stood. Her neatly trimmed, elegant black bob cut swayed gently in the breeze. Behind her glasses, intelligent, narrow eyes traced over the gymnasium's interior, as if appraising its worth. Shirakawa Kanade. She looked far more mature than in her photograph. She strode forward purposefully and stopped right in front of me at courtside. A silver ballpoint pen, understated but clearly expensive, glinted in her chest pocket. "Everyone in the Shohoku Basketball Club, thank you so much for granting us this time for a joint practice today. I am Shirakawa Kanade, manager of Ryonan High. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Her voice was clear and resonant, carrying perfectly. A flawless, impeccable greeting. When she bowed her head, the players lined up behind her bowed in perfect unison. A movement as regimented as a military unit. "Yeah, likewise. I'm the captain, Akagi." Captain Akagi responded on behalf of the team. Coach Anzai gave a small, quiet nod, *foh-foh*. I had to return the greeting as a manager, too. I thought so, and was about to step forward. That's when it happened. "Ryota! It's been so long! You're still so short, I see!" Shirakawa Kanade's expression transformed, blooming like a flower. She slipped right past me and dashed lightly toward the center of the court, where Miyagi Ryota was doing warm-up exercises. The air in the gymnasium froze. The team members stared at the scene, dumbfounded. Even Sakuragi Hanamichi stood there with his mouth hanging open. Ryota. She called him by his first name. No honorifics. "Huh...? K-Kanade...? What the hell are you doing here... wait, you're wearing a Ryonan uniform!" Ryota blinked in confusion for a moment, then scratched his head, looking awkward but somehow happy. That reaction spoke volumes about a shared past between them that I knew nothing about. Middle school. Ryota's middle school years. A time I didn't know. The pen I was holding for the scoreboard slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor. The small metallic *clink* seemed to echo unnaturally loud in the hushed gymnasium. No one was looking at me. *(Why... why am I so shaken up by this?)* It's not strange for Ryota to have other female friends. It just so happened that this one was the manager of the team we were about to face. That's all it was. That's all it was, and yet, a thick, cold, black feeling slowly spread through the center of my chest. I quietly, carefully, picked up the pen, trying not to make a sound. My fingertips were trembling faintly. "...What is everyone standing around gawking for? Continue your warm-ups. We're going through the menu with Ryonan now, so don't slow your pace." I barked out the order in a lower voice than usual. As if snapping out of a trance, the team members started moving the ball again. Good. This is fine. I am the manager. My job is to direct the team. I can't let that woman see me rattled. *(An acquaintance from middle school? So what? The past is the past.)* I had just told myself that, when── "Ayako, got a minute?" It was Captain Akagi who called out to me. He was standing so that his large back hid a girl behind him. And then, he gently pushed her forward in front of me. As if he'd brought along a puppy. "Wow...! The gym is so big! My brother's always complaining that it's 'old and cramped'!" A radiant, innocent smile. Her waist-length, straight black hair swayed softly. Her large eyes sparkled with curiosity. She looked me straight in the eye and bowed deeply. "Oh, um, it's nice to meet you! I'm a first-year, Akagi Haruko! My brother's told me all about how you're always supporting the team from behind the scenes, senpai! You're amazing!" She looked at me with eyes full of respect, as if to say she was a fan of mine. There wasn't a trace of guile in them. Only pure admiration. "...I see. Thank you." I managed to force a smile and reply. That was the best I could do. This girl. The one who was talking with Ryota on the rooftop. The girl Ryota had looked at with such a gentle expression. "Ayako, this one here wouldn't take no for an answer about helping out with the club until my retirement game. Even just observing practice is fine. I'll make sure she doesn't become a burden on you, so could you let her stay?" The captain bowed his head apologetically. "Yes! I'll do anything—serving tea, cleaning, whatever! I'll do my very best not to hold you back, Ayako-senpai!" Her presence was like the sun. Just by being there, she brightened the atmosphere of the gymnasium in an instant. If Shirakawa Kanade was an ice queen, then this girl was a warm patch of spring sunlight. That black feeling swirled inside me again. Jealousy. It's no wonder Ryota is kind to a girl this pure and cute. Unconsciously, I was digging my neatly trimmed nails into the edge of my clipboard. "...Yes, of course. If you're willing to help, you're more than welcome. Haruko-san." I said it with a smile. Taking the utmost care so my voice wouldn't tremble. Haruko patted her chest in relief, then turned toward the court. "Ah! It's Miyagi-senpai! My brother told me, he's going to be the next captain! He seems so reliable, doesn't he, Ayako-senpai!" An innocent, cruel remark. She has no way of knowing about my feelings for Ryota. She was just purely complimenting a senpai her brother acknowledged. But it gouged deep into my heart. Ah, I see. *(I can't compete with this girl.)* I want Ryota to see me not as a manager, but as a girl. The very moment I wished for that, I had already lost. During a break in practice── "Miyagi-senpai! Good work! Here's a cold towel for you!" Haruko rushed over to Ryota, carrying a tray with towels and drinks. Ryota wiped his sweaty face with the towel and grinned, looking embarrassed. "O-oh. Thanks, Haruko-chan. You're really on top of things, aren't you?" "Not at all! Your dash was so fast, senpai! Just what you'd expect from the next captain!" "Haha, well, yeah! I've gotta be the one to lead the team!" Ryota's happy face. From the corner of the bench, I kept my eyes fixed on the score sheet, watching it all. The tip of my pen had stopped moving on the paper. The numbers I was trying to write swirled chaotically in my head, and I couldn't write anything. *(Those two really do look good together, don't they?)* A voice inside me sneered. I'm not some perfect controller. I was just a small, insignificant girl, jealous in love. ──In the end, I couldn't lift my head until practice was over. ********* "...Hah." Inside the equipment room, where I'd fled from the noisy gymnasium. I leaned my back against a steel locker and let out a heavy sigh. The white light of the fluorescent lamps illuminated the closed room coldly. From outside, the voices of the team members cleaning up could be heard distantly. This small room alone was my castle. A place no one could trespass into with their shoes on. I took my secret notebook from the shelf and spread it open on the desk. *'Miyagi Ryota Data v.3'* As I flipped through the pages, the excuses I'd scrawled to myself over the past few days were scattered everywhere. *'Emotional control failure.' 'Too harsh on Ryota. Needs improvement.' 'Jealousy is useless. Strategically unnecessary.'* *(Strategically unnecessary? What am I even analyzing?)* My own written words started to look like cold, mechanical symbols. Ryota's stamina data. Pass success rate. Formations he struggles with. Why had I been so desperately recording all this? ──That moment. After Shirakawa Kanade had called Ryota by his first name. She had glanced at me, and for just a fraction of a second, her lips twisted into a smirk. It was a smile of assured victory, so fleeting that no one else would have noticed. *(That woman knows.)* *(She knows Ryota's middle school days. The Ryota I don't know.)* That fact constricted my chest more than anything else. *Click.* "...Huh?" My heart leaped in my chest. I hadn't locked the door. When I turned around, the equipment room door was slowly opening, and standing there was── "My, I've finally found you. Pardon my intrusion, Inoue Ayako-san." There was Shirakawa Kanade's smile, reflecting the cold light of the steel shelves. Before I could even respond, she strode briskly into the equipment room. "Wait, what do you want? Outsiders aren't allowed in he──" "Outsider? I am your equal—no, I am the home team's manager for today. Besides, which one of us is the 'outsider,' I wonder? What do you even know about Ryota?" I felt as if my heart had been seized in an instant. Her eyes fell upon my player management notebook, spread open on the desk. "Oh my, is all of this handwritten?" Before I could stop her, she casually picked up the notebook. "Goodness, from the players' weights to their sleeping hours... it's as detailed as a stalker's notes, isn't it?" She flipped through the pages idly, looking at months of my effort as if she were examining garbage. "...Give it back." My voice trembled. "Isn't it inefficient? For data of this level, everyone on my team shares it on tablets. To think you'd rewrite it all by hand—how positively archaic." Her words stabbed into my chest, a finishing blow. "Ryota must have it rough. Being managed by an amateur manager like you, who can't separate her emotions from her work." "W-what did you...!" "It's obvious just by looking. Your gaze, your attitude—it all leaks out completely. Back in middle school, I was the one who handled Ryota best and gave him the most freedom. Perhaps I should look after him again." She flashed one last triumphant smile, then tossed the notebook back onto my desk. The pages fluttered open, exposing my embarrassing *'Emotional control failure'* memo to the

日本語

What is Novelia? →

Episode 4

Name: The Shadow Manager: The Girl Who Controls Shohoku Basketball Club
Author: Novelia

What is Novelia?

Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.

Learn more about Novelia →New sign-ups get 5,000pt