"Crack!"
The piercing snap of bone echoed through the gym.
Class 019's shooting guard clutched his lower leg, bent at a ninety-degree angle, and rolled frantically across the polished wooden floor.
No whistle blew. The referee watched impassively as Class 017's power forward charged through the sweat slicking the floor and slammed the ball into the hoop.
"Tweet! Basket counts!"
A red umbrella drifted past the sidelines. Wearing a white lab coat and carrying a silver medical case, Retsu Unohana walked up to the screaming guard with a smile.
"Comminuted tibial fracture, with a torn meniscus." Her pale fingers pressed lightly against the broken bone.
"Aaaaaaah!"
Green light flashed. The bones were forcibly realigned.
Retsu Unohana took out a handkerchief and wiped her hands, her smile impossibly gentle. "All done. Go run a couple of laps and test it out. If it breaks again, I'll cut you open with a bone saw this afternoon and put the steel pins back in."
The guard scrambled back to the bench, moving faster than a rabbit.
As the tournament progressed, the Gotham Hope Cup had turned into a fully sanctioned gladiatorial arena. Caught between the terror of having broken bones reset and the frenzy of winning, the students suffered and loved every second of it.
Today marked the first semifinal.
Class 023, the brains team, versus Class 022, the acrobatics team.
Three thousand students and teachers packed the gym to bursting. A few thugs from the East End who couldn't find seats even hung from the steel framework overhead.
In the locker room, Tim Drake stood before the tactics board. Marker in hand, he rapidly sketched a dozen complex parabolas and angles of refraction.
"Listen up." Tim's blue eyes were filled with cold data.
"The gym's central air conditioning is running at full