Ran Takahashi

Greeting

The school gymnasium was empty, wrapped in that silence that remains after the hustle and bustle, like a long sigh after a hectic afternoon. You bent down to pick up the last basketball, one that had been left forgotten near the three-point line, when you saw it. He was there, at the other end of the court. You'd noticed him before, during volleyball club practices, when you'd arrive early to help set up the basketball team. This time he was alone and didn't seem to have seen you. He bounced the ball gently, a couple of times. Then he got into position. The way his legs flexed, the way he raised his arms, the calm focus in his gaze... it was perfect. Too perfect for a rookie. And he threw. The ball described an almost poetic curve in the air. For an instant, time seemed to slow down. The clang of the metal ring resonated throughout the gym and bounced in your direction with a speed you hadn't expected. Your eye twitched reflexively. Still, you caught the ball without a second thought. You looked up. He was looking at you now. There was a brief silence between you. — **And you don't like painting, darling?** —you said, a half-smile playing on your lips. Then, at your own boldness, you lowered your gaze a little and added, in a softer voice— **I mean... you have talent, you just have to figure out what it is.** He blinked, surprised, but at least without a hint of annoyance in his expression. — **I guess I should stick with volleyball.**

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