Rules

In the brief, deathly silence, Sudo Ken shoved his chair back violently.

The metal legs scraped against the floor with a harsh, piercing screech, like a blade cutting through the solidified air.

He rushed out of the classroom without looking back, his school uniform hem knocking over a pencil case on the neighboring desk; pens and pencils clattered across the floor, but no one moved to pick them up.

The corridor light flickered across his taut jawline as he ran, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway, accelerating until they turned into a frantic sprint.

The basketball court. Only here could he contain the suffocating heat rising within him.

He grabbed a basketball rolling along the sidelines, the rough texture against his palms providing a fleeting, illusory sense of control.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!" The sound of his dribbling grew heavier, as if he were trying to smash all the pent-up frustration in his chest into the plastic floor.

He suddenly accelerated into a layup—his muscles surged as his body took flight, tracing a sharp arc before the hoop rattled violently under his slam.

As he landed, sweat dripped from his hair onto the reflective floor, blooming into dark, circular spots.

"Expulsion... it's no big deal!" Sudo Ken gasped for air, roaring at the empty stands as if trying to convince himself, "Transferring... I still have two and a half years! I'll practice, get a part-time job for tuition..." His fingertips unconsciously traced the texture of the ball, recalling the tactile memory of countless game-winning shots.

His dream hung like a sun above the hoop, blinding yet seemingly within reach, only the path beneath his feet had suddenly turned into a steep incline.

"Sudo-kun—!" Hirata Yosuke's voice, laced with anxiety, reached him from the entrance.

He, along with Kushida Kikyo and Horikita Suzune who were following close behind, stopped in the shadows, breathing slightly hard.

Seeing Sudo mechanically repeating the motions of dribbling, jumping, and shooting, the tense shoulders of the three relaxed visibly.

"Thank goodness... he's just playing ball." Kushida clutched her chest, whispering to Hirata with genuine concern in her eyes.

Horikita's gaze rested on Sudo's sweat-soaked back.

Every arc of his shot carried a fierce intensity, yet was unnervingly precise. "He's different..." she whispered.

The Sudo who used to explode at the slightest provocation and solve every problem with his fists now resembled a piece of iron being tempered and hammered, a strange hardness emerging from his silence.

Despite their brief time together and constant conflicts—Sudo had once scoffed at Hirata's gentleness and glared at Horikita's cold arrogance—those final days of staying up late in the library for tutoring, arguing until their faces were red over a single math problem, had become one of the few shimmering fragments of Class D.

Hirata gently held back Kushida, who wanted to step forward, and shook his head: "Let him... be alone for a while." This final farewell was a battlefield of his own.

They retreated quietly to the shade of the trees by the court, watching that lonely figure cast a long shadow in the sunset; every sound of the ball hitting the ground felt like a muffled drum beating against their hearts.

The next morning, sunlight slanted into the Class D classroom.

Sudo Ken's seat was gone.

The desk and chair had been removed, leaving behind an abrupt, square patch of emptiness.

That void was like an unhealed wound, stinging everyone's eyes.

Ike Kanji stared at the empty space, mindlessly fiddling with his eraser; Yamauchi Haruki was uncharacteristically silent, and even the usually noisy girls lowered their voices.

A faint, indescribable melancholy hung in the air. That hot-tempered, red-haired figure had ultimately departed in the most dismal way possible.

Who would be next? Fear, like cold vines, quietly coiled around the ankles of some.

This oppressive silence was easily crushed when Chabashira Sae stepped into the classroom.

She slapped her lesson plan onto the podium with a "thwack," her gaze sweeping over that glaring void before a faint curve touched her lips.

"Announcing the class points." Her voice was devoid of emotion, "For this midterm exam, Class D's theoretical points earned: 73 points."

A faint gasp rippled through the room, and a few eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope.

However, the next second, Chabashira's words poured down like ice water:

"Due to the expulsion of Sudo Ken, 100 points will be deducted from the class." She tapped her fingertips on the desk like a gavel pronouncing a death sentence, "Therefore, this month's class points are zero. Next month, individual points will be distributed as zero as well."

Deathly silence.

Then, a volcanic eruption of commotion.

"100 points?!" Ike Kanji stood up abruptly, his chair legs scraping a harsh noise against the floor, "Why should we all lose points just because he got expelled!"

"Exactly! He failed his test and got kicked out, and now we're the ones suffering for it!" a girl shrieked in agreement, kicking the chair in front of her in anger, "If I'd known this, I wouldn't have wasted my time tutoring him!"

"Chabashira-sensei! Isn't this deduction too much? According to the rules—" Hirata tried to maintain order, but his voice was instantly drowned out.

"Rules?" Chabashira sneered, her gaze piercing sharply at Hirata, "The rules established by the school are as they are; there is nothing I can do.

Sudo's expulsion proves that your class cannot even keep a single member.

100 points is the price, and it is also a warning." She ignored the flushed faces and clenched fists below, turning to write a large "0" on the blackboard.

The empty space that symbolized Sudo's departure now became the target of everyone's resentment.

The earlier melancholy had vanished, replaced by raw, naked bitterness.

Sudo's name was mentioned repeatedly, mixed with accusations of being a "dead weight" and a "jinx," whipping the invisible corpse.

Hirata slumped into his seat, watching his classmates seethe with indignation, then looked out at the empty basketball court, his tightly pressed lips revealing a hint of bitterness.

Horikita, expressionless, opened her book, though the force with which her fingertips gripped the pages was enough to nearly tear them.

The sunlight still shone brightly on that empty space, but now, only abandoned anger and cold calculations remained.

The dream of the hoop swayed in solitude on the distant shore.

In the brief, deathly silence, Sudo Ken shoved his chair back violently.

The metal legs scraped against the floor with a harsh, piercing screech, like a blade tearing through the solidified air.

He rushed out of the classroom without looking back, his school uniform hem knocking over a pencil case on a neighboring desk; pens and pencils clattered across the floor, but no one moved to pick them up.

The corridor light flickered across his taut jawline as he ran, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway, accelerating until they turned into a frantic sprint.

The basketball court. Only here could he contain the suffocating heat rising within him.

He grabbed a basketball rolling along the sideline, the rough texture against his palms providing a fleeting, illusory sense of control.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!" The sound of his dribbling grew heavier, as if he were trying to smash all the pent-up frustration in his chest into the plastic floor.

He suddenly accelerated into a layup—his muscles surged as his body took flight, tracing a sharp arc before the hoop rattled violently under his slam.

As he landed, sweat dripped from his hair onto the reflective floor, blooming into dark, circular spots.

"Expulsion... it's no big deal!" Sudo Ken gasped for air, roaring at the empty bleachers as if trying to convince himself. "Transferring... I still have two and a half years! I'll practice, get a part-time job for tuition..." His fingertips unconsciously traced the texture of the ball, recalling the tactile memory of countless game-winning shots.

His dream hung like a sun above the hoop, blinding yet seemingly within reach, only the path beneath his feet had suddenly turned into a steep incline.

"Sudo-kun—!" Hirata Yosuke's voice, laced with anxiety, drifted in from the entrance.

He, along with Kushida Kikyo and Horikita Suzune who were following close behind, stopped in the shadows, breathing slightly hard.

Seeing Sudo mechanically repeating the motions of dribbling, jumping, and shooting, the tension in their shoulders visibly eased.

"Thank goodness... he's just playing ball." Kushida clutched her chest and whispered to Hirata, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

Horikita's gaze rested on Sudo's sweat-soaked back.

Every arc of his shot carried a sense of ferocity, yet it was unnervingly precise. "He's different..." she murmured.

The Sudo who used to explode at the slightest provocation and solve every problem with his fists now resembled a piece of iron being tempered and hammered, a strange, silent hardness radiating from him.

Despite their short time together and constant conflicts—Sudo having once sneered at Hirata's gentleness and glared at Horikita's cold arrogance—those days spent pulling all-nighters in the library, arguing until their faces were red over a single math problem, had become one of the few shimmering fragments of Class D.

Hirata gently held back Kushida, who wanted to step forward, and shook his head: "Let him... be alone for a while." This final farewell was a battlefield of his own.

They retreated quietly to the shade of the trees by the court, watching that lonely figure stretch long under the setting sun; every sound of the basketball hitting the ground felt like a muffled drum beating against their hearts.

The next morning, sunlight slanted into the Class D classroom.

Sudo Ken's seat was gone.

The desk and chair had been removed, leaving behind an abrupt, square patch of emptiness.

That void was like an unhealed scar, stinging the eyes of everyone present.

Ike Kanji stared at the empty space, unconsciously fiddling with his eraser; Yamauchi Haruki was uncharacteristically silent, and even the usually noisy girls lowered their voices.

A faint, indescribable sadness hung in the air. The hot-tempered, red-haired figure had ultimately departed in the most dismal way possible.

Who would be next? Fear, like cold vines, quietly coiled around the ankles of those present.

This oppressive silence was easily crushed when Chabashira Sae stepped into the classroom.

She slapped her lesson plan onto the podium with a "snap," her gaze sweeping over that glaring void before a faint curve touched her lips.

"Announcing the class points." Her voice was devoid of emotion. "For this midterm exam, the theoretical points earned by Class D: 73 points."

A faint gasp rippled through the room, and a few eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope.

However, in the next second, Chabashira's words poured down like ice water:

"Due to the expulsion of Sudo Ken, 100 points will be deducted from the class total." She tapped her fingertip against the desk like a gavel pronouncing a death sentence. "Therefore, this month's class points are zero. Next month, personal points will be distributed as usual."

Dead silence.

Then, a volcanic eruption of commotion followed.

"100 points?!" Ike Kanji stood up abruptly, his chair legs scraping against the floor with a harsh noise. "Why should we all lose points just because he got expelled!"

"Exactly! He failed his exams and got kicked out, and now we're the ones suffering for it!" a girl shrieked in agreement, kicking the chair in front of her in anger. "If I'd known this, I wouldn't have wasted my time helping him study!"

"Chabashira-sensei! Isn't this deduction too much? According to the rules—" Hirata tried to maintain order, but his voice was instantly drowned out.

"Rules?" Chabashira sneered, her gaze piercing sharply toward Hirata. "The rules established by the school are as they are; there is nothing I can do."

"Sudo's expulsion proves that your class cannot even keep a single member."

"100 points is the price, and it is also a warning." She ignored the flushed faces and clenched fists below, turned around, and wrote a large "0" on the blackboard.

The empty space that symbolized Sudo's departure now became the target of everyone's resentment.

The earlier sentimentality had vanished, replaced by raw, naked bitterness.

Sudo's name was mentioned repeatedly, mixed with accusations of being a "dead weight" and a "jinx," whipping the invisible corpse.

Hirata slumped into his seat, watching his classmates seethe with indignation, then looked out at the empty basketball court, his tightly pressed lips revealing a hint of bitterness.

Horikita, meanwhile, flipped open her book with a blank expression, though the force with which her fingertips gripped the pages was enough to nearly tear them.

The sunlight still shone brightly on that empty space, but now, nothing remained there but abandoned anger and cold calculations.

The hoop of dreams swayed alone on the distant shore.