The Shadow Manager: The Girl Who Controls Shohoku Basketball Club - The End of the Manager

Not even a full day had passed since the nightmare of that practice match. I, Inoue Ayako, stood alone in the equipment room at the corner of the gymnasium, staring vacantly at the steel shelves. The smell of rubber, sweat, and dust stung my nose. That scent, which usually calmed me, tightened painfully around my chest today. The scene from yesterday was seared onto the back of my eyelids, refusing to fade. ──Shirakawa Kanade's sneer. ──And Ryonan's players, precisely targeting the weaknesses written in my notebook. *(It's my fault.)* Because that woman stole a look at my notebook. Months of my effort had been turned into a weapon that cornered the team. Until the very end, Ryota had chased the ball desperately, his face showing he had no idea what was really happening. Seeing him like that was more painful than anything. I'm useless. The fingers gripping my stopwatch were cold, utterly chilled. I didn't want to think about anything anymore. I just wanted to disappear. A small metallic click echoed through the quiet equipment room. I started and looked up. Someone had opened the door without knocking. No, there was only one person in this school who would be so rude. "...Still cleaning up? How diligent of you." Deep in my chest, a sharp pain seized me, as if my heart were being squeezed. Shirakawa Kanade stepped into the equipment room, wearing her usual perfect smile. Her chestnut bob cut shimmered in the light. Intelligent, yet somehow cold, narrow eyes. In her breast pocket, a silver ballpoint pen glinted, just like always. "...What do you want? The joint practice should be over already." My voice, desperately feigning composure, was so cold it surprised even me. But Kanade didn't seem bothered in the slightest. She strode right up, passed by my side, and casually pulled a bundle of files from the steel shelf. My player management notebook. "Wow. This is all handwritten?" She flipped through the pages idly, looking down at my notebook as if observing some rare animal. "...Give it back." My voice was hoarse. "Don't look at other people's things without permission." "But at my school, this level of information is kept on a shared drive anyone can access. Don't you think this is an analog and inefficient method?" Her smile deepened. "Even after writing so much, it didn't seem to help in yesterday's match, did it?" The words stabbed deep into my chest. I could feel the blood draining from my fingertips. *(I know. No one knows that better than me.)* My notebook hadn't been a shield to protect the team. It had just been a list of weaknesses, handed to the enemy. "...If you're done, please leave." "Oh, I'm sorry. But as a fellow manager, I'm just offering you some advice, you know?" Kanade roughly shoved the notebook back onto the shelf and peered into my face. Her eyes weren't smiling. "Your methods are outdated, Inoue Ayako-san." That was when it happened. "Ayako-saaan, I just wanted to check tomorrow's warm-up menu──" A familiar, drawling voice sounded, and Miyagi Ryota's figure popped into the entrance of the equipment room. His usual black hair, slightly mussed with bedhead. The piercing in his left ear glinted dully in the dim room. Ryota spotted Kanade standing next to me and stopped dead in his tracks. "...Geh, Kanade? You're still here?" His voice stiffened just a little. Kanade's face lit up brightly. The icy gaze she had been directing at me moments ago was nowhere to be seen. "Ryota! You've been doing solo practice until you're drenched in sweat again? You never change." Kanade gently touched Ryota's arm, as if speaking to a close lover. "Ryota, you have it rough too. Being stuck with such outdated methods. Shall I look after you again, like I did back in middle school?" My heart made a sickening sound. "Back then, when I collected data for you, your shooting percentage went up by 15%, remember?" Ryota's brows drew together in a troubled expression. "Nah, that was... I mean, Ayako-san's way is more than good enough for me." "...Stop it." Before I knew it, the words had left my mouth. It was a small, trembling voice, so faint it was pathetic even to my own ears. Kanade turned back to me, looking mildly surprised. Then, she let out a soft chuckle, just at the corners of her mouth. "...Oh, I'm sorry. That was rude of me. But let me just say this. You can't win just by caring about the team, Inoue Ayako-san." Leaving those words behind, she patted Ryota's shoulder once more, whispered "See you, Ryota. Let's have a nice long talk again sometime," near his ear, and left the equipment room. Silence returned. Ryota scratched his head awkwardly. "Ayako-san, did she say something to you? Don't let it bother you. She's been like that since middle school. I don't think she means any harm." *(Doesn't mean any harm? That?)* Ryota's carefree face, as if he understood nothing, made my insides churn. "...Here. Tomorrow's menu." Suppressing my emotions, I roughly pulled a sheet of paper from my binder and handed it to him. "Eh, ah, thanks..." Ryota started to say something. But before he could, a bright voice came from outside. "Miyagi-senpai! You were still here!" From the direction of the court, Akagi Haruko came running with bouncing footsteps. Her long black hair, reaching down to her waist, swayed, and her large ribbon fluttered like a butterfly. Smiling cheerfully, she held out a sports drink bottle in her right hand. "I got this as a gift! It's cold! I wanted to give it to you first, senpai, so I was looking for you!" Ryota's face lit up instantly. "Oh, seriously! Thanks, Haruko! You're pretty thoughtful!" He grinned innocently and took the bottle. "Well then, Miyagi-senpai, good work today! See you tomorrow!" "Yeah! Thanks!" Haruko waved happily and ran lightly back toward the court. Ryota started walking as if to follow her. The sound of their laughter faded into the distance. Standing frozen at the entrance of the equipment room, I just watched that scene. I can't compete with that girl. I can't make the team win with theory, like Shirakawa Kanade. I can't heal someone with an angelic smile, like Akagi Haruko. What do I have? Just a handwritten notebook. Just memos, good for giving information to the enemy and making the team lose. I clutched the binder to my chest. My nails dug into the vinyl cover, turning my fingertips stark white. *(What was it all for... everything I've done?)* It felt as if a huge hole had opened up right in the middle of my chest. A cold wind blew through, and with a sound, something crumbled. It wasn't a simple emotion like jealousy or humiliation. It was deeper, a bottomless void. A darkness, as if my very reason for existing had been ripped out by the roots. --- That night. Large drops of rain were pouring from the sky like a waterfall. The school rooftop. In that deserted place, hidden in the shadow of a water tank, I sat hugging my knees. Sitting on the cold concrete, listening only to the sound of the rain. *Whoooooosh.* The violent downpour, loud enough to block my ears, drowned out my sobs. "...Ugh... why... why is it always me..." My voice trembled. The tears wouldn't stop. "Was my notebook... just... garbage...?" Memories from middle school flashed back. *'I heard you've been making eyes at the players, even though you're just a manager? Disgusting.'* My ex-boyfriend's sneering face. The cold stares from everyone around me. It was the same back then. I got too close to a player and made a fool of myself. So I decided I'd never fall in love again, that I'd keep things strictly business as a manager. And then I fell for Ryota. Repeating the same mistake all over again. *(In the end, I haven't changed at all.)* "...Was everything I've done... completely meaningless...?" At the same moment those words left my lips. The sound of the rain seemed to lessen, just a little. No, that wasn't it. Looking up, a pitch-black umbrella covered my head. And on the wet concrete, two large basketball shoes. Startled, I raised my head to find Sakuragi Hanamichi standing there, soaking wet. Water dripped from his bright red hair, and his usually fierce eyes looked down at me quietly. "Ayako-san, what are you crying for?" It wasn't his usual joking voice. It was low and calm. Hanamichi plopped down roughly next to me, without waiting for an answer I couldn't give. A puddle rippled slightly under his weight. "I don't really get complicated stuff, but," Hanamichi muttered quietly, still looking straight ahead. "I know how much you've been watching over us, Ayako-san." I was at a loss for words. "When I was practicing alone in the gym in the middle of the night, you were always watching from the shadows, right? Whether I took a spectacular fall or made a shot, you were always writing it in your notebook. Is that, like, a genius's growth record?" He even knew that much. Hanamichi gently held out his clenched fist in front of me. "I don't know anything about that Ryonan woman's data or whatever! But your notebook has everything written down, even when I fell and when I made a shot! That's way more amazing than just some numbers!" They were straightforward, unadorned, genuine words. Deep in my chest, warmth spread. The hole that had been empty just moments ago was slowly filled with something warm. "...Hanamichi... thank you..." Tears overflowed again. But they weren't the cold tears of rain from before. They weren't from frustration or despair. They were just warm, hot tears. I don't know how long we stayed like that. Hanamichi stood up and silently offered me his large hand. "Let's go home, Ayako-san. You'll catch a cold." That hand was covered in hardened calluses. Proof that he had desperately gripped a basketball every single day. Reaching out with a trembling hand, I grasped that rough hand. "...Okay. Thank you, Hanamichi." The rain was still falling. But the downpour inside my heart felt like it had lightened, just a little, just a tiny bit. It was a night where Hanamichi's rough kindness grabbed my hand, at the very last moment, as I was falling into the depths of a deep darkness. But this wasn't the end. If anything, this was only the beginning. The very first, single flicker of light, to start crawling up from rock bottom. As the rain beat down on me, I made a fierce, silent vow in my heart: I would never, ever let that light go out.

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Episode 5

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

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