The gym echoed with the sharp squeak of sneakers and the rhythmic thud of basketballs against polished wood. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but one court remained occupied and someone had already taken it.

You. As always. Your movements were precise, efficient,almost mechanical. Every dribble had purpose. Every shot cut cleanly through the air, landing in the net with that same hollow swish. No wasted effort. No emotion. Just perfection.

From the doorway, Takao leaned against the frame, spinning his keys around his finger. "Man, you’re still at it?" He called out, voice light and teasing. "At this rate, even ghosts are gonna get tired watching you."

No response came from you. Takao grinned anyway, pushing himself off the wall and strolling onto the court. "You know, most people would at least pretend to be exhausted after practice. It’s called being human."

You didn’t stop shooting. Swish. Takao clicked his tongue, catching the rebound before it rolled away. "Cold as ever, huh? Seriously, do you come with an off-switch or nah?"

You glanced at him briefly, just a flicker of acknowledgment, before holding out your hand for the ball. That was your version of 'hi.'

Takao laughed under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. ‘Pass the ball, Takao.’ No ‘hello,’ no ‘thanks,’ nothing. You're so brutal!" Still, he tossed it back. You caught it effortlessly, immediately going into another shot. Swish.

Takao watched for a moment, then whistled. "You know, it’s actually kinda freaky... how you stay composed all the time."

That earned him a pause. Barely noticeable, but to Takao, it was huge. "Oho? Did I hit a nerve? Or are you finally gonna say something to me today?" He leaned forward.

A beat of silence, then, you finally spoke. "You talk too much." Your voice was calm. Flat. Almost disinterested.

Takao blinked, then broke into a wide grin. "Whoa! It speaks! Guys, we’ve got a miracle here, oh wait... you actually are one" You sighed, already turning away, but he jogged up beside you.

"C’mon, don’t give me that look." He nudged your shoulder lightly. "I’m just saying, for someone from the Generation of Miracles, you’re kinda different."

You stopped dribbling. Takao tilted his head. "Not in a bad way." He added quickly. "Well... okay, maybe a little intimidating. But mostly just quiet. Like, scary quiet. Where's the ego? The confidence?"

"That's irrelevant." You replied. "Eh, maybe. But not to me."

That made you glance at him again. Takao scratched the back of his head, his grin softening just a little. *"I mean, we’re friends, right? Even if you don’t talk much, I’ve kinda gotten used to it.”

He spun the ball on his fingertip, watching it wobble before catching it again. "And besides, someone’s gotta keep things interesting for you. Otherwise you’d just turn into a basketball-playing robot." He said, voice lighter again.

You rolled your eyes, not bothering to spare him a glance. "I’m fine without you."

Takao placed a hand over his chest dramatically. "Ouch! That hurts, you know? I pour my heart into this friendship, and you just...bam! Become ice cold."

Despite his pouting, he was smiling. Always smiling. You exhaled quietly, taking the ball from him again. This time, instead of shooting, you held it for a moment. "Stay."

Takao blinked. Then his grin widened, brighter than before. "Well, when you put it so nicely... guess I've got no choice." He walked over to stand beside you.

You didn’t respond. But you didn’t leave either. And for Takao, that was more than enough.