#these semifinal matches will be a bit spaced out‚ so the next one will be on thursday

[sanji-outfit-tourney]

Best Sanji Outfit Tournament Part 1 Semifinals

(Click the pictures for better views)

[theswisstro]

Dear Roger Federer ,

I thank you for motivating me in the form of a troubled teen to move on to the next day, to be kind, to improve, and to strive for excellence in everything I do. Despite all the homeless shelter bouncing, the nights spent huddled in our car with my brother in empty parking lots, abusive family members, and the lingering trauma...thank you Roger for being one of the only positive consistencies in my adolescent years, which was one of the most turbulent times of my life. Back then, I never knew what awaited tomorrow: would we have food, shelter, safety? But what was a guarantee was a match of yours was often waiting for me when I got home, and many times it was the only hope I ever had, just the anticipation that I might see you play. I never received an autograph in person from you but I will reminisce to any future grandchildren that I might have of the days I had the privileged pleasure of watching you play in person at a time when your game was at its most immaculate. You redefined the game, or at least you redefined my definition of it.

The first time I saw you play was at the semifinal of the US Open 2009. I froze (and *may* have spilled my drink on myself during the tweener). I had never seen a player move as you did. You danced. You flowed, and when you struck, your hits sounded like the thunder of gods, even at the grandiose heights of Arthur Ashe Stadium. Your form would remain in freeze frame for a split second, gliding into space as though for one rare instant in time, you were granted the gift of flight that even those feathered Aves would eye enviously. "Federer": despite the name's origin, you were not a quill maker, you floated as a feather and inspired a generation of sports writers who have had the unparalleled delight of watching you play. Your strikes like brush strokes, your movements like choreography, your on-court silence made room for the applause that would always follow from the mass of awe-inspired spectators around you. You were, are, and will forever be this spectral danseur who graced us longer than we could have ever hoped for and probably even longer than we deserved. I knew this day would come.

This year, the idea of it was lodged in my throat like an impending truth I couldn't swallow. I prophesied back in 2010 that you would play on tour until your body could no longer allow it, and so you have. Thank you for these glorious years of emotions, finesse, dedication, and life lessons...the wins, and the opportunities for growth (I won't use the other word). You have brought fulfillment and joy in my life in ways I never could have imagined one would through a sport. For this I thank you. I look forward to any future commentary, coaching, and off-tour events you're willing to still grace us with. Thank you for this journey. It has certainly been a hell of a ride and I will always be proud to say I watched arguably the greatest tennis player of the Open Era wield his racquet, a soft-spoken lion with a lance, who transcended a sport into a powerful art but more importantly, did so with grace, humility, and unadulterated passion. Goodbye, Roger, but I hope this is only the closing of a chapter, not the end of an incredible novel. I look forward to seeing you again shortly, in some form or another.

PS. I'm still holding out for that autograph in person.

That pesky fan who used to send you envelopes with sketches of little Swiss cows on them,

K.A.H.

Kamille Hackney

Editor-in-Chief of The Swisstro

"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me".

- Erma Bombeck

Letter photos source: https://www.instagram.com/rogerfederer/?hl=en

Photography source: Kamille Hackney Photography ©

[prof-hemlock]

Gym Circuits

Let’s get into one of my favorite aspects of Pokemon: Pokemon Gyms and Gym Challenges. A cornerstone of the franchise, most of the media has been centered around trainers aiming to complete the gym challenge to eventually become champion, either by competing in a tournament style such as with the anime and the Galar region, or by challenging the Elite Four. If we were to transpose a gym challenge system into the real world, here’s how I think it would run--at least in the United States.First, I would begin by dividing gyms into two categories: county gyms and state gyms. Both would have functioning gym leaders, but their styles and their purposes would differ immensely. We divided the two types up because gyms seem to serve two very different purposes--either for challengers to defeat the leader, or to serve as areas for trainers to train with their Pokemon. By dividing those two purposes, each type of gym can specialize in their objectives.

Beginning with county gyms, each county would have a number of gyms determined by this equation: ([x/1000]+[y/50,000]=z). “X” represents the total area of the county in square miles, “Y” represents the total population of the county, and “Z” would then be the total number of gyms available in that county, rounding to the nearest whole number. For my relatively small-medium county, I’d be left with three. This equation is split between balancing both size and population because if a county has more people, it will need more gyms to accommodate that influx. At the same time, if the gyms are too separated because an area may not have a large population but a lot of space, challengers wouldn’t be able to access gyms. So, we have a compromise. If a county truly is too small to get a gym by either of these standards, trainers can go to the nearest county gym.

State gyms would follow a similar pattern. Gyms would be distributed both by land area and by population. If gyms were only distributed by size, Rhode Island would get virtually nothing, and if gyms were distributed only by population, Nebraska would not get enough gyms to cover the entire state. In the US, there would always be a total of 400 gyms, much like how the number of US representatives does not change and are divided based on changing populations. Those gyms would be redistributed every 10 years with the census, with growing states needing more state gyms and shrinking states converting their state gyms into county gyms. Our equation for state gyms is similar, but a bit different. Here, we have: ([[x/3,806,000]*172]+[[y/331,800,000]*172]+1=z). This equation could probably be simplified, but I haven’t taken an algebra class in a while, and I don’t want to simplify it right now. Our “X” represents the total area of a state in square miles, our “Y” represents the total state population, and again “Z” represents the total number of gyms in that state rounded to the nearest whole number. The one is added to the equation in order to guarantee that every state and territory gets a minimum of one gym. In my home state of Minnesota, with this equation, we’d get eight gyms.

County gyms would serve the functions of basically Pokemon DMVs as well as normal gyms. The look of the county gym would honestly be a lot more bland and probably more uniform than that of gyms in the games, as they are supposed to be functional rather than stylistic. Here, gym leaders would probably not have one type of Pokemon that they limit themselves to. I mentioned that for trainer and professional licenses, they would require certification. In order to receive those licenses, teaching and tests would be required so that trainers are properly aware of the responsibilities of their licenses, much like how real drivers need to go through driver’s ed before they can get driver’s licenses. County gyms would serve as learning centers for those classes as well as the testing facilities and distributors of licenses. Apart from certification, trainers would be able to use the county gyms to train with their Pokemon and other trainers, getting advice and tips from the gym leader there who could act as a coach or personal trainer. If a trainer wishes to challenge any state gym, they must defeat at least one county gym to qualify. After defeating one county gym leader, they can move on to the more extravagant state gyms. These gyms would have one more purpose as it would actually be a part of the gym challenge, but I will get into that later.

In contrast, the style of a state gym would be much flashier and akin to what we see in the games, and it would have the sole purpose of accepting gym challengers. Gym leaders would become more specialized, and the drama of the gym would attract spectators and televised events. Landmarks, historical buildings, and the like could all be considered as places of inspiration for these gyms. For example, I definitely think that the Mall of America would have an electric-type gym. State gyms would also take turns hosting the state championship.

Here’s where I think things get interesting: the Gym Circuit, the path towards being a Pokemon Champion. First, I’d think it best to assume the style of a tournament rather than having an elite four. I’ve chosen this by preference, but also I’d find it much simpler to have city, county, state, or national champions rather than needing elite fours at the state and national level. The path to champion is not as simple as it would be in the games, and instead there would be multiple routes towards achieving success. Below is a flowchart detailing those paths.

We begin with city and town tournaments. These would be rather lax affairs, much how a small town may host a talent competition. Any trainer of either novice or professional status could enter, and these tournaments would probably take between a day to a week, depending on whether it’s a small town or a city. At the end of the tournament, usually occurring in April, the town would be left with their town’s champion and the next three top ranking trainers behind them. These four trainers would then qualify for the county tournament. There would also be a second route to the county tournament, and that would be by defeating all the county gyms for that county, a task that can be considered pretty achievable. It would basically serve as a second chance for trainers that couldn’t make the top four to enter. The county tournaments, occurring in May, would be a little more serious, but still enjoyable at their core, and probably last no longer than a week or two. These matches may show up in the papers, but this level would still not see that much attention. After that level of tournament, we are again left with the top four trainers, including the county champion, who can proceed onto the state championship.

The state championship would be a much bigger ordeal. Avid fans would have been following the county tournaments leading up to the event, and they may have already picked their favorites. These matches would be televised for the whole country, most likely on some sort of local state channel. Trainers can make it here as one of the top four from their county, or if they defeat all or a minimum of eight gyms in their states (large, heavily populated states like California would have much more than eight gyms.) These events, occurring around June, would generally take much longer than a county or city tournament and have weeks of battling before any are televised just to thin the herd. It’s only until there are 64 remaining challengers that the real action begins in the final week. The first two days would see the number dwindle to 16 after rounds of 3v3 battles. The next two days of the week would be double battles where the challengers are paired randomly and allowed three Pokemon each, resulting in the final four challengers. The next two days would be the finals and semifinals, 6v6 all-out battles for the honor of challenging the state champion. On the final day, the last one standing would have the chance to conquer the current state champion and take their throne. If that last challenger wins, only they can move on to the national championship.

From here, the patterns are relatively stable. The national championship occurs in July or August, depending on the year, in Washington DC. Here, each state or territory sends one individual to compete to become the United States Pokemon Champion. Every four years, there would be a World Tournament, where every country could send a representative to compete in its honor to become World Champion. Every four years in the US, in between World Championships (like the Winter Olympics), the US would also have regional championships in the month of July. Unlike the other types of tournaments and championships, this round wouldn’t disqualify anyone. All participants who had come from their states now competing in the regionals could still move on to nationals no matter their ranking in the regionals. What I find most intriguing about a system of this style is that gyms would still be important in order to become a Pokemon Champion, but an underdog could become champion without ever having challenged a single gym.

[apex-academy]

Chapter 5: Caring Is a Hazard to Your Health (#17)

After a thrilling lecture and practice session, I’m released. Last chance to sweep the refreshments tables before the competition starts. Not sure how much I should trust the drinks at this party, but we’re only allowed to kill two people at a time, so. Wouldn’t be a good play to poison it. And drugging wouldn’t be any smarter. Don’t think anyone here would do that, anyway...

I chug a little lemonade and head back to the folding chairs. Apparently this game lets eight people play at once, so the gap between the seats and the screen is a wild tangle of crossed controller wires. 

“All right!! Is everyone ready to go?”

After a few confirmations at various levels of enthusiasm, Aidan starts hitting buttons on his own controller.

“Okay! For the sake of those not used to the game, everyone please choose unique characters so we’ll have less trouble keeping track of who’s who!”

“I call Fox.”

Don’t know who that is, so sure.

By the time he’s brought up the selection screen and I’ve figured out which of eight tiny cursors is mine, someone’s already claimed the guy I practiced with, so I just drag the pointer around for a while. End up picking some knight-looking guy. Why not. As Aidan has so succinctly explained, there are plenty of differences, but I’m not interested in analyzing fifty characters just to play.

We have to wait a bit for Ichiriki to settle on a princess and Aidan to actually manage to select the guy he claimed—who does, in fact look like a fox, shocking—and then there’s some scene selection thing, I don’t know. Aidan takes care of it.

After a brief countdown from a deep voice that barely gives me time to figure out which tiny cluster of pixels is mine, the match begins.

“Wait, I’m an orb?”

Guess I should know how to manage those, but. Not what I thought I was getting. Okay. Well. It’s not like most of the others have any idea what they’re doing. Even Aidan is just spamming one attack.

“Oh, I see now!”

“You claimed this form because it uses a gun, yes?”

Though that was clearly aimed at Aidan, Mahavir drops his controller.

“What did you say?!”

“Hey, hey, hey!! Settle down! We’re just playing a game here!”

“And I did not invite you to this to be rude, Miss Tsunyasha!”

“Were you expecting her not to be?”

“Well.”

“I state my judgment whenever I please, whelp.”

“—!”

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear, thank you! Please return to the game!”

“Hmph. I do not follow demands, foolish creature.”

“It was clearly a request!!”

“...”

“Very well, I shall humor you just this once.”

“Do not get used to it.”

She settles back down and presses several buttons before realizing the game has been paused. With a final little “hmph,” Aidan hits a button and everything starts moving again.

And I do mean everything. Throwing eight players in with a bunch of different moves in a large area sure is something. We’ve got some pink-haired something beating people up with trees—from the cackling, I’m guessing that one’s Kanagi. The blue guy Mahavir was practicing with earlier is beating the crap out of some blue-haired anime girl, Ichiriki’s princess is throwing... turnips or something?—and apparently I also have bat wings, so. That’s nice, I guess. And then there’s some little pink thing that keeps wandering around and alternating between flinging itself off the edge of the stage and destroying everyone. And then there’s what I assume is the result of Kaichi finding a character in a swimsuit, though instead of fighting Kaichi’s just making him wriggle around and repeatedly say something too accented for me to decipher.

“Would you like to actually play the game, Mister Riseiin?”

“I got a guy and ’m hitting buttons. ‘m playing just fine, brah.”

“That...”

I watch as the blue-haired anime girl descends to start hacking the crap out of Kaichi’s guy. Kaichi just laughs and goes back to the wriggling thing the first chance he gets. His character is summarily thrown off the screen by the spinning pink thing.

You’re a genius radiologist and this is how you live your life. Okay.

I wasn’t paying attention to how many lives we have in this thing, but I’m pretty sure all of us are losing more wandering off the edges than actually fighting. It’s still an experience, I’ll give it that.

I survive to the final three before Kanagi kills my guy with a freaking axe.

“Thanks.”

At least she takes down Ichiriki’s after that. As the announce booms out a “GAME!”, she throws her controller to the floor.

“HECK yeah!”

“Please refrain from casually destroying the equipment.”

“What do I win?!”

“Y’ didn’t ask that first, brah?”

“Listen, dude, there are a lotta flashing lights in here and I got distracted.”

“Fair.”

“Well, first of all, we’re going to have more matches than just this one.”

“Mmm-kay. And then...”

“Oh, oh! Is it dorayaki?!”

Are you serious.

Aidan pauses and looks to Yuki.

“...Is it?”

“Hummmm...? Sure...”

Kanagi fist-pumps. 

“I WILL TOTALLY DESTROY ALL OF YOU! KEKEKEKEN!”

Can’t you just ask for dorayaki at this point? Whatever.

“At any rate, good game, everyone! We’ll start the second round...”

“...”

“Aiiidaaaaan? You ‘kay?”

“Er, yes, excuse me.”

“We’ll start the second round shortly. Ah...” He looks to the game screen like he’s lost his place in a book. “You’re free to pick the same characters if you like, or you can switch! Still no doubles of a character, though.” 

“And Miss Yuukei will still... be playing...” 

“Er, so she could still block out competitors from advancing. The winners of the next three rounds will progress to the semifinals!”

Seems like a lot of playing, but I guess the matches aren’t that long. At least he’s not trying to announce them.

Though I’m not sure he’d be able to right now.

“Hummm... Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Aidan...? Do you need to go to bed early...?”

“I most certainly do not!”

“I, uh, just need a drink, I think.”

“I can bring a lemonade over...”

“If you would?”

He sets up for the next round so we can start picking out characters while that’s being taken care of. I guess I could try to steal Kanagi’s guy? Not feeling that cutthroat today. I’ll just be boring and stick with the... knight... blob. With wings. Yeah. It doesn’t look like most of us are switching, anyway.

Kaichi sure isn’t.

The next round takes place on a different stage that’s only slightly harder to keep walking off the edge of. But then half of it gets swallowed up by some kind of acid or something, so I wouldn’t call it better. I make it to second place but still lose to the pink thing, which is apparently Yuki’s. Next round.

Ichiriki wins that one, and then at the last chance, I somehow manage to make it in. 

“Hmph.”

“Well, I hope you mortals are satisfied with your little imaginary battles in imaginary realms.”

“Right back at you.”

“I am, thank you!!”

“...”

Is she jealous? We’ll never know.

“All right! We’ll take a brief break before the next round.” 

“I believe there’s plenty of popcorn left, so don’t be stingy with it!”

Chairs creak and controllers thump as we twist ourselves free from our gaming stances. Don’t know that I want more popcorn, but I could go for a drink. Didn’t keep an eye on my cup, so I grab a new one. Just water this time.

As I’m putting the pitcher back down, Yuki approaches.

“Did you want water?”

“Oh, I’m all right... Thank you.”

I step away from the drinks regardless.

“Hummmm... Is now a good time to ask...?”

What is this, an attempt to distract me from the game? She doesn’t seem the type. Also wouldn’t be much point in winning a prize she has to make herself.

“Might as well go ahead.”

“Okay...”

“I just wanted to know... if you still wanted lessons?”

“Less...?”

“...”

“Cooking lessons.”

“Umm-humm...”

“...........”

“I’m sure I could use them, but I don’t think I’d be able to focus.”

“Too busy thinking about the empty space beside me.”

“...........”

The silence doesn’t stretch out as long as it could before I hear slow footsteps.

“If I may?”

I would startle if I felt enough energy, but all I do is turn a little. Guess if I want a private conversation, I should get a little farther away from the punch bowl.

“Ah, Mahavir. Sorry.”

“It’s quite all right.”

“After all, I’m the one who seems to be eavesdropping here...”

“That’s okay...”

“But, ah...”

“If it would help, I may be interested in lessons as well?”

“But your cooking is already good...”

“Thank you? But I’m not used to working with the relatively few spices available here, and I could always stand to learn something.”

“Of course, there’s no need to hold formal lessons on my account. But I would be willing, if that works out well for you.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to private lessons, anyway...”

Are you serious.

“Um, thanks, Mahavir. I think that would really help.”

“Should we, uh, start tomorrow, then?”

Yuki nods.

“That would pose no issue to me.”

“Cool...”

I might not sound properly enthused, but I feel like this needs to stay a multiple-student class. Will Mahavir being there really help? I don’t know. Don’t think I’ll know until we get there. If it doesn’t, I can try to tough it out.

Maybe get someone else to enroll in the meantime.

Before we can make any more plans, a voice rings out over the din.

“Everyone!”

“The tournament will be resuming shortly! Those of us who have been eliminated are free to cheer on our friends or play one of the other games in here.”

“Preferably one that isn’t being used for a table.”

Well, Kanagi’s still in the running, so he probably doesn’t have to specify. Can’t hurt, though.

“I guess we should get back then, hummmm...”

“Yeah.”

“Best of luck.”

I nod and drink what water I can before heading for the game console. Time to keep the party going, I guess.

[BACK] [NEXT]

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 2 Chapter 6-Door (Part 1)

We’re in the endgame now...

This chapter was surprisingly dramatic. Some people get trapped in an elevator, someone gets hospitalized, and someone declares to someone else that they will make a world without hitting or missing...this chapter took a while. Hopefully, I can finish the book before September ends.

Full list of translations here

Glossary here

Translation Notes

1. Nanao lists a bunch of dishes from all over Japan. Imoni is a type of taro and meat soup eaten in the Tohoku region. Beef tongue, or gyuutan, was a dish created in Sendai. Wappameshi is a dish cooked in wooden containers and a specialty of the Niigata prefecture. Zunda mochi is a Tohoku specialty where rice cakes are coated with soy bean paste. Ika ninjin is a pickled mixture of dried squid and carrots, which is a specialty in Fukushima.

2. The bull’s eye of a hoshi-mato is called a zuboshi in Japanese. Zuboshi o sasu (to guess exactly right) literally means pointing at the bull’s eye.

3. The word used here, geki (檄), can mean encouragement as well as manifesto.

4. This was a bit confusing for me, but I think it’s connected to the idea of seven mysteries (fushigi) (a common trope in manga set in high schools) and how meeting one of them would bring you bad luck. 

5. This is a reference to Shutaro Mendo, a character from the famous manga Urusei Yatsura who is the heir to a rich family and has claustrophobia.

6. “Form is emptiness” and the Heart Sutra are kind of the same thing in Buddhism. I think it means that everything is dependent on their parts and causes, and that forms themselves are inherently empty of existence???? Buddhism is complicated

Previous | Next

Anvil clouds floated distinctly against the sky.

In order to participate in the Interscholastic Athletic Meet Kyudo Tournament, Minato and the others took a connecting bullet train up north. August, over four days. The start of a hot and passionate summer for high school archers.

In the train, Minato, Seiya, and Ryouhei sat in a three-seat row, Kaito and Nanao sat in a two-seat row next to them, and Masa-san and Tommy-sensei sat behind them. So that their bows would not hinder the people around them, they had them put in the gap between the seats and the wall at the back of the car.

Ryouhei and Nanao promptly opened the seals on their bags of sweets. They proceeded to barter across the aisle.

Kaito wrinkled his brow.

"I can't believe you guys can eat so many sweets so often. Just looking at them gives me heartburn."

"Huh? When I get on a vehicle, I get kinda hungry, you know? Imoni, beef tongue, wappameshi, zunda mochi, ika ninjin! (1) Aah, what to eat?"

"Don't eat so much. Eating too much for lunch and getting sleepy, then not feeling so good in the afternoon even though you felt fine in the morning, is a thing that happens."

"Are you not eating then, Kacchan? As in, local cuisine?"

"No, I am though."

"Right?"

Nanao and Ryouhei were energetic since morning, but Minato was flipping through the provided booklet and drinking tea, unable to settle down if he wasn’t doing something.

Seiya spoke.

"Minato, it’s still too early to be nervous. We’re scheduled to shoot at the practice hall today first, after all. Apparently, we can do a practice round of four shots at the actual venue."

"When we got on the train, I just thought, it's finally time."

"I'm excited. To be able to shoot on such a big stage is like a dream. We've done all that we can, so the rest is just managing our health over these four days, I guess."

"Yeah, that's right."

Minato leaned back deeply into his seat and closed his eyes.

They entered the first day.

Shajos for groups of ten people appeared in a wide arena that was used for championship ball game matches and other events. The green mat that resembled the lawn of a yamichi dazzled the eyes. The stands were filled in all directions, and there were many camera lenses pointed at the competitors for web broadcasts and photos. Unlike the semi-open-air kyudojos, sounds echoed, so if one shouted a yagoe, it seemed like it would rebound and pierce one’s own heart.

The competition event was short-distance shooting, divided into girls’ and boys’ divisions, and the categories were group competitions and individual competitions. The targets used were wooden-framed kasumi-mato with a diameter of thirty-six centimeters. Two shajos for groups of ten, the space between the archers were a hundred and eighty centimeters, and the shooting distance was twenty-eight meters.

Following the opening ceremony, the girls’ individual competition began. The preliminaries and semifinals would have four rounds of shooting, and those who had three or more hits would advance. The preliminaries were done in rissha, and from the semifinals on, the matches would be done in zasha.

Kazemai High School was only in the group tournament, but Kirisaki High School’s Shuu was in the boys’ individual competition. His presence that surpassed others could not fade under any circumstances. Even in the most crowded places, one could quickly find Shuu.

Ryouhei spoke to Minato.

"Shuu-kun's as cool as ever. You'd know that he's definitely skilled just from seeing his standing figure."

"Yeah, exactly."

Shuu and Nikaidou both had a four-shot kaichuu, and passed the preliminaries and semifinals.

The individual competition finals were an "izume" competition. The current tournament had twenty-seven competitors.

Each person shot an arrow, the ones who missed were eliminated, and those who hit carried out their next shot. The one who continued to hit to the end was the winner. However, in the event that everyone missed, they can shoot once more.

Shuu and Nikaidou smoothly continued to hit, and from the fifth round, their targets were switched to twenty-four centimeters hoshi-mato. Hoshi-mato were targets with a single black circle in the middle of a white background, and that black circle was called the "zuboshi" which was the origin of the phrase used often in everyday life, "zuboshi o sasu" (to guess exactly right). (2)

In the sixth round, five people, including Shuu and Nikaidou, were left.

In the seventh round, one person was out, and after the eighth round, it became a one-on-one battle between Shuu and Nikaidou.

Nine shots, then ten.

In the midst of the enormous round of applause, the archer who kept hitting until the end slowly blinked his pale, thinly pigmented eyelashes.

The second day. The start of the group tournaments.

Teams were composed of one manager and six athletes, with five starting members. Up to three athlete substitutions were allowed. Each team had a total of twenty shots, and the top thirty-two teams with the most amount of hits would advance. The time limits were eight minutes for zasha and seven minutes for rissha. In the case of competitions that determine which team would advance past the preliminaries due to a tie, each person would shoot one arrow.

Minato’s team hung their ID cards from their necks, attached their numbers to their right hips, and put on their yellow-green headbands. The girls’ division took place in the morning, and the boys’ division would take place in the afternoon. Their parents, the girl members, and the elite members of the Nanao Fan Club, rushed to support them over a long and distant journey. The stands were divided into blocks of average people and competitors, and female staff members were patrolling around with plates that read "Please stay quiet during the competition.”

While waiting for their turn, the Kirisaki archers appeared before Minato. He readied himself to exchange sharp words with the twins, but their treatments of him were different.

Manji opened his mouth.

"I heard that the suggestion for me to shoot together with Shuu while standing behind him came from you and that coach of yours."

"Are you saying that I did something uncalled for?"

"Teams from the same prefecture would be separated into different blocks for the finals tournament. We’ll be waiting for you guys in the finals."

"Oh, yeah, wait for us," Minato answered.

Senichi and Manji stepped back, and then Shuu stepped forward between the two. His silhouette was bordered in gold, and it seemed like there was a blue-purple flame swaying upwards.

Shuu smiled brilliantly.

"Hey, Minato. I owe you for the other day."

"Congrats on winning the individual competition, Shuu. Your shooting was kinda like Saionji-sensei's."

"Fufu… Are you planning on pleasing me and make me turn into a fool? I will embody 'one shot and expire’ at this tournament."

"…One shot and expire?"

"That's right. A world where, other than drawing a bow and releasing an arrow, there are no such things as hitting and missing——. Minato, you follow me too."

Only informing Minato of that, Shuu left without waiting for a response.

What’s with Shuu?

Did he meant to do a Zen dialogue kind of thing here? I couldn’t even raise a question, much less answer him.

Tommy-sensei and Masa-san stood before the five boys.

"Thank you all for continuing to practice up to now. I have received all of your tenacity, for certain. Now, let’s start the mission!"

"Yes!"

Minato and others entered the third waiting room. When they were there, they felt like warriors taking on a battle. Beyond the partitioning white cloth was the shajo, and the moment one came out there, the immoveable enemy would be right before one's eyes.

They advanced to the second waiting room, and when they entered the shajo, they sat down in the chairs of the first waiting room.

At the signal to "start," they did their yuu bows and stepped forward to the shooting line, then they did ashibumi without squatting. They selected a pair of arrows from four.

First was to shoot was the oomae, Kaito. He carefully brought the tip of his arrow closer to the center of the target, and waited for the moment of release. After his arrow headed for the target along with a nimble yugaeri, there were shouts of "Alright!"

When Kaito was entering kai, the second archer, Ryouhei, raised his bow. His recent progress was amazing. He was so honest and straightforward that he absorbed what he learned as he was taught them. A lively matooto sounded.

The third archer, Seiya, was unusually relaxed. At the prefectural tournament, he was a bundle of nerves with a prim face on, but this time, the unity of the five was excellent, and he felt like they could win the championship like this. Of course, he hit.

It was then the fourth archer’s—Nanao’s—turn. The group with the yellow-green frog-shaped uchiwa fans in their hands pitched forward. While being aware of his tenouchi, Nanao carefully drew his bow. A circle appeared on the scoreboard, and the Nanao Fan Club elites sent out a big shout of support.

The fifth archer, the ochi, was Minato. The pain in his wrist was completely gone. He tensed his little finger, stretched his elbow, and stretched himself in all directions as much as possible. His arrow shot through the target with a ringing tsurune.

The five-person kaichuu was clinched, and a huge round of applause swelled from the venue. In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo were doing fist pumps in their minds.

"They did it! The boys were incredible from the very beginning."

"So you've been enlightened or something?"

"Maybe."

In the second round, the five got a kaichuu once again, and the Kazemai High School cheering squad was unexpectedly enlivened.

However, in the third round, Ryouhei, Seiya, and Nanao missed.

In the fourth round, Kaito had one more shot to go for a kaichuu, but missed and exited the shajo. Minato got a four-shot kaichuu and there was a round of applause.

As a result, Kazemai High School had three, three, three, three, four—a total of sixteen hits.

When all the teams finished shooting, the results were that Kirisaki High School and Tsujimine High School both had eighteen hits.

The three schools were in the top rankings and would advance.

The third day.

The finals tournament finally began.

This day was done in two matches, until it was whittled down to the best sixteen.

Their first match was with Iwakurisawa High School. They stood out quite a lot due to their buzz cuts and bright red headbands. When the person who appeared to be the captain commanded in a loud voice, "Form lines!", the athletes and cheering squad quickly formed five rows.

Their manager, with a similarly shaved head, issued a manifesto of encouragement. (3)

"All of you, things like losing to a school with only first-years are not needed!"

"Yes, sir."

"Too quiet!"

"Yes, sir!"

At that ferociousness that was more like something from the military than sports-oriented, the athletes from the other schools drew back a little. However, with the influence of their opponent’s manager, Minato’s team became calmer instead. They did rissha in the preliminaries, but from now on they would be doing zasha. From the stands, Masa-san watched Kazemai High School enter the first shajo and Iwakurisawa High School enter the second.

From "standing" to the end of "nocking," the five people’s movements were matching each other’s as much as possible, but Iwakurisawa was all over the place, and it could be perceived that they didn’t even feel like getting it together. And conversely, the timing to stand for the first shooting round was said to be when the person in front stood and put their right fist on their hip, but the five people from Iwakurisawa stood up together and did ashibumi together. Although it was alright as long as one didn’t overtake the movements of the person in front of them, there was a sense of discomfort felt from looking at that.

After they began shooting, shouts of "Alright!" came for both teams in succession.

Iwakurisawa used a shooting method where they moved themselves towards the targets to the extent that they were tilting their bodies. They firmly pushed their left arms and released their arrows immediately with just their right hands. It was a unique way of shooting, but they hit very well with it. But there was one person who was being put into disorder. The arrows their ochi was releasing were scattering left and right, and their landing spots were in disarray.

On the other hand, the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club showcased their composed shooting. Their raised their bows with their right arms and passed the initiative to the left arms at daisan. Rolling the targets that could be seen around their left elbows to above their arms and moving it to their fists, they then moved their right hands to their shoulders and pointed their right elbows to their hips before parting their bows. When they entered kai, they quietly exhaled. They flicked their right thumbs and their arrows rushed towards the targets.

For the results, Iwakurisawa had four, three, three, four, and one hit for a total of fifteen hits. Kazemai, opposing them, had four, two, four, three, and three hits and won with a total of sixteen hits.

After the first match was over, Tommy-sensei praised them all. No matter how old one was, words of praise from one’s teacher were something to be happy about. Next to them, the Iwakurisawa manager was yelling at their ochi.

"If you missed the first shot, then shouldn’t you change your aim for the second shot!? Why did you miss three of them!?"

"I’m sorry…"

"Why aren't you able to do what I taught you!?"

"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry——!"

The ochi continued to apologize, but his manager did not stop rebuking him. The voice that was relentlessly criticizing someone who had already broken down into tears was painful for those who were listening to it as well.

When Minato took a step, he heard a loud fit of coughing.

"Kaaaaa—" Coughing sounds. "Ah, please excuse me. As one gets older, there would be more phlegm stuck in one’s throat." Another cough.

The sounds of the Iwakurisawa manager’s rebukes were drowned out by the incessant and violent coughing. Perhaps their interest was dampened, Iwakurisawa High School started to move in silence. If Minato and the others copied them, they could be adding fuel to the fire, and the people around them couldn’t close their open mouths at the feat only Tommy-sensei could do.  

The second match began. Their opponent was Chikuten High School.

The Chikuten oomae was petite but the ace of his team, and was skilled enough to be in the top three of the individual competition. The other members’ standing postures were also good, and they looked quite dignified. When they stood at the shooting line, they took forward-bent postures. They raised their bows while keeping that tilt, firmly put in their shoulders and pushed open their bows. Their arrows headed towards their targets with a sharp release.

Of course, Minato’s team did not yield to them either. The five’s movements were perfectly overlapping from moving their bows to nocking, showing their amount of training. They drew their bows to the limit and waited for the moment to release their arrows.

At the end of the four rounds, Ryouhei and Nanao got kaichuu, and they got three, four, three, four, three hits for a total of seventeen hits.

At the end of the tie-breaking match, Kazemai won with four hits to three.

Minato, dressed in the casual outfit of a t-shirt and a jersey, was on the first floor of his hotel.

After the schedule for the third day was over, the manager and athletes went back to their hotel to rest their bodies. This hotel had twelve floors and was fully equipped with a large public bath, and Minato was returning to his room after having finished bathing a step before everyone else.

Tomorrow, the curtains would close on the high school generals. He wondered what kind of results would be waiting for them. If they went on winning at this rate, they would face Kirisaki High School, where Shuu was.

Drawing their bows at the same place, at the same time.

The secret, violent throbbing in his chest would not stop until the competition was over.

When Minato headed for the elevator landing, he saw someone he recognized there. It seemed like he had also just come out of the bath.

"Nikaidou-senpai."

"…Yo. I sure bump into you a lot, Minato-chan. I don’t even use the elevator normally, so this must be fate or something."

"Oh, I saw the notice on the way here. It seems that the stairs can’t be used due to a lighting failure. Nikaidou-senpai, you have a rule of not using the elevator or escalator as much as possible to train your legs, right?"

"That’s Minato-chan for ya. You even remember stuff that don’t even matter. Even though I was able to use the stairs on the way to the baths, but, well, things happen sometimes."

Staying in the same lodgings as Tsujimine High School again was unlucky. The desire to not meet each other as much as possible was probably mutual for the two of them. They waited for the elevator to come in silence, and then got in when the doors opened.

Nikaidou asked him a question.

"What floor?"

"Eighth floor, please."

"Got it."

He pressed the buttons for the seventh and eighth floors. The elevator rose with an indistinct sound.

Four, five, six…

They would finally be approaching the seventh floor soon.

Minato was at the back of the elevator, and Nikaidou stood before the doors as he was about to get off. But, the elevator stopped just a little bit before its destination.

"…The hell? The door’s not opening."

Nikaidou pressed several of the buttons, but nothing happened. Minato also tried pressing the buttons as a test, but the results were the same.

"Oi oi, is this for real…"

"Should I try pressing the call button?"

"Go ahead."

After Minato pressed the button, a voice could be heard from the speaker.

"What is the problem?"

"The elevator stopped and the doors aren’t opening."

"We are very sorry for the inconvenience. Which floor did the elevator stop near? Also, how many people are in the elevator?"

"We’re almost at the seventh floor. There are two people."

"Understood. We will now be sending people to your location, so please wait. They will arrive in about fifteen minutes."

The voice broke off.

That they were trapped in an elevator in a place like this was completely unexpected. It wasn’t like they didn’t feel like they could get out if they force the door open either, but for now they could only wait. It was fifteen minutes of endurance.

When the two left the elevator panel, the lights suddenly went out.

"Uwah!"

Nikaidou slammed his hand against the wall hard, and the impact caused the elevator to shake violently. That made the fact that they were in a hanging box right now feel all the more real.

"Are you okay, Nikaidou-senpai?"

"Shut up, I was just surprised!"

Nikaidou’s voice echoed in the cramped chamber. Minato could even hear the sound of him clicking his tongue. In the darkness, the two held their breaths, at a loss as to what to do.

They waited for the time to pass without stirring a muscle.

Footsteps could be heard from somewhere, passing by.

The lights came back on after a while, and they became able to maintain their sight. Minato rubbed his chest with a sigh of relief, but a strange change was happening in Nikaidou.

His complexion was bad, and there was cold sweat beading on his forehead. He was panting in quick, rough breaths, and then he bent at his waist and curled his back. Perhaps not being able to stand, he pushed his body against the wall and scrunched down.

"Shit, what the hell is this crap… I need to get out of here now. Pretty sure it’s been fifteen minutes a long time ago…"

During Minato’s hospitalization, he had had similar symptoms.

He reached out his hand to rub Nikaidou’s back.

"Don’t touch me!"

"Nikaidou-senpai, you are probably hyperventilating. You are breathing in too much oxygen. Please breathe more slowly."

"Shut up. Don’t order me around…"

"I am not. I think it will soothe you, so please try it."

"Shut the hell up! This is all because I’m riding the same elevator as someone like you. I need to get out of here, now!"

Beneath his pale face, his eyes shone with a tinge of bloodlust.

"…It’s all your fault. Heard that the Kazemai coach got injured protecting you, didn’t he? Misfortune befalls anyone involved with you…"

Minato felt like he had been struck with a blunt object. He couldn’t deny it and the core of his head was numb. Before his eyes was a person who was clearly in bad condition and becoming panicked, but since he was told that anyone who gets involved with him becomes unlucky, he wouldn’t be able to interfere with him. But, there should be some way calm him down.

Think, think.

Rack your brain.

Minato crouched down and matched Nikaidou’s gaze.

"Nikaidou-senpai, if you sleep here, a zashiki-warashi will come and draw whiskers on your face, you know?"

"…Hah?"

"If you say misfortune befalls anyone who gets involved with me, isn’t something unfamiliar approaching you also mysterious? (4) At the summer training camp, when one of our club members woke up, a zashiki-warashi drew whiskers on his face. And it was with permanent marker."

Are you serious, the graffiti artist wasn’t a zashiki-warashi, but unmistakably a human—was what Nikaidou wanted to retort, but he was already in a state where it was difficult for him to talk. There was buzzing in his ears and was barely keeping conscious with the dizziness and numbness throughout his whole body. In the first place, for a joke that was just waiting for a sarcastic retort, telling it with a serious face was just too scary.

Minato placed his hand on Nikaidou’s back arbitrarily.

"I told you not to touch me…"

"Please breathe slowly, like you’re entered kai. It’s your strong point, right, senpai? I will count. One…two…three. You’ll be alright. Let’s breathe slowly one more time."

Without any strength to disobey, and with the single-minded desire to escape from this pain, Nikaidou breathed out as he was told. In the meantime, Minato continued to rub his back.

How much time had passed? Nikaidou, whose breathing was now stable, raised his hand in indication that Minato no longer had to rub his back. There were people’s voices outside, but rescue still hadn’t come yet. Maybe the hallway was busy.

Nikaidou let fall a few words in a low voice.

"…My uncle asked Saionji-sensei to take him as a disciple. Although he begged him with the willing resolution to even change his school, he wasn’t accepted, and nowadays his body is ruined and he can’t even draw a bow. I always thought this. That if Saionji-sensei chose my uncle instead of you guys, then the future might have changed. Why was it an elementary schooler, and what’s more, someone like you who just passed by… Even now, you’re blessed with an advisor and coach. I can’t forgive you…"

Minato thought that meeting Saionji-sensei and Masa-san were events akin to miracles, so he truly was blessed. But, even if he could redo his life once again, he wouldn’t give up anything.

A beautiful tsurune that shot through his heart.

His encounter with the bow.

"Nikaidou-senpai, you're actually a kyudo nut. I didn’t realize that until now."

"…Hah? How did you get that?"

"And, I think you and I are both lucky. Tsujimine High School’s total number of hits in the preliminaries was eighteen, right? Even though you aren’t a powerhouse school, a school that had people with that high of a hitting rate gathered together surely means that your passion towards kyudo had drew comrades towards you. You can’t win group competitions even if just one person was skilled."

"…Quit it. That’s just a coincidence."

"Yeah. A lucky coincidence."

At that moment, the elevator slowly ascended, and the door opened. Right on the other side were several people, and a nostalgic face greeted Minato.

"Minato! Thank goodness. Here, drink some water."

"Did you and the others go to the bath?"

"We got out of it a long time ago. There was another elevator that was working normally."

"I see. I guess our elevator broke down by chance."

When he checked the time, he learned that they had been confined for forty-five minutes, but it felt like about two hours had passed.

Right after Nikaidou exited the elevator, he collapsed on the spot, and was caught by Fuwa and Ootaguro.

Ootaguro spoke.

"Here, I’ll lend you my shoulder."

"No, I’m fine…"

Fuwa also inserted his arm under Nikaidou’s armpit.

"If you try to be thoughtful in a situation like this, we won’t win tomorrow’s competition, right? Ootaguro and I both know that you have claustrophobia. You should really muzzle your brother. When you were little, you were accidentally locked into a cellar, right? You’re like a certain countryside rich boy." (5)

Nikaidou met his eyes. A nasty smile appeared on his face.

"What the hell … I really am the lamest…"

"Yeah, you're super uncool. It’s too late for you now."

"Shit… Fuwa, I’ll punch your lights out later."

"Can you even punch me when you’re so unsteady like this?"

Nikaidou stood with the support of Fuwa and Ootaguro. They slowly began to walk.

"Sorry about this, Kuro-chan."

"It’s nothing, since you’re so light!"

"…I can’t really be happy about that. Since I’m a boy."

Nikaidou’s brows lowered.

Afterwards, Minato got apologies and explanations from the person from the elevator company and the hotel manager, and then was finally released.

Tommy-sensei placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You must have had quite the scare. Go take a long rest for the rest of today."

"Yes, sir. I am sorry for all the trouble."

Minato was sharing a room with Seiya, but he climbed into bed first and fell asleep just like that. To not wake him up, Seiya passed the time in Kaito, Nanao, and Ryouhei’s room.

Before long, Seiya decided to go to bed and returned to his room, where he noticed that Minato was curled up in blankets that he had brought out from the closet, in addition to his comforter.

Seiya called out to him softly.

"Minato, what’s wrong? Aren’t you hot covered in so many blankets?"

"…I feel way too cold. And my body hurts all over…"

"Cold?"

It wasn’t like the air conditioning was too effective. His exposed skin was red, and he was covered in a faint sheen of sweat. When Seiya felt his forehead, he could feel that he was burning up without having to check his temperature. He could imagine that his body pains were muscle pains from a high fever. Seiya rubbed Minato’s arms, back, and feet.

"How do you feel? Do you feel a little better when I massage you?"

"…Yeah, I feel better. But, Seiya, you should stay away from me. I don’t think it’s the flu or anything like that since it’s summer, but it'd be bad if you caught a cold…"

As soon as he said that, Minato turned over. Frequently turning and tossing in bed happened when one trying to escape from pain or suffering, so he seemed to be in quite a lot of pain. Since muscles covered the entire body, the range of the pain was wide, and Seiya alone could not attend to all of them. Seiya contacted Tommy-sensei and Masa-san.

Thinking how suspicious that people kept entering and exiting the room, Kaito, Nanao, and Ryouhei also visited. Following Seiya, they also volunteered to care for Minato, but the sight of the four boys massaging Minato’s whole body was nothing but hilariously absurd to the point of view of an onlooker.

Masa-san stilled everyone’s hands, and then put the back of his hand to Minato’s cheek.

"He is certainly burning up. I think it’s something like a developmental fever, but let’s take him to the hospital."

He changed his sweaty clothes with the help of Tommy-sensei, and wrapped them in a blanket. They had decided to go to a night hospital, but Minato couldn’t stand up because of the pain all over his body.

Masa-san turned his back to him.

"I'm carrying you."

"…Sorry, Masa-san…"

When they were getting into the taxi, Masa-san spoke.

"Seiya, switch rooms with me. Move to Tommy-sensei’s room."

"But, it’s better that I stay with Minato."

"If you get a fever too and it affects tomorrow’s competition, then Minato would be the one who would feel the most depressed. I'm leaving this to you. Seiya, you are the club president. I’m counting on you to support everyone else."

"…I understand."

Seiya saw the taxi off.

After they reached the hospital, they waited for their turn for a medical examination in the waiting room. They came after they called ahead, but it seemed that it was unexpectedly busy and it would take a while.

The TV would be on during the day, but the screen was turned off at night. Other than this corner, the lights were turned off, and in the darkness, the underwater forest in the aqua terrarium looked like it was floating in the sky. Foam bubbles burst open at the water’s edge.

Masa-san wiped the sweat off Minato’s forehead with a towel. Minato then closed his eyes.

"Do you want to lie down?"

"No. But more importantly, Masa-san, you should keep a distance from me."

"I’ll be fine, since when my whole family had to stay in bed because of the flu, I was the only one who didn’t catch it."

Minato opened his half-closed eyes and smiled a little bit.

"…As expected of Masa-san."

"You can lean on me if you’re tired."

"…No, I’m okay."

Minato crossed his arms to hug himself tightly.

Even though he usually didn’t get fevers, what was he doing after having come such a long way here? Tomorrow was the last day, the day of the finals that he made a promise to Shuu and the others to be in. He even talked with Seiya about managing their health.

He felt like crying at his own feebleness.

Why am I so weak?

Names were called by order, and before long Minato and Masa-san were the only ones in the waiting room.

Minato muttered.

"With my condition like this, I might not be able to be in tomorrow’s match…"

"You went through the experience of being trapped in an elevator, so your body’s been through a shock. You’ll be cured when you take medicine and have a good night’s sleep.”

"It’s okay, you don’t have to comfort me."

"That’s pretty negative for you to say, Minato. I thought you said that you would be in the competition even if you had to crawl. If you weren’t there, then Kazemai would only have four people, you know?"

The jade-green colour of the aqua terrarium was reflected in Minato’s eyes.

"…Sorry. I was being timid just now. That wound on your forehead didn't disappear, Masa-san. Misfortune befalls those who get involved with me…"

"What’s with that chuunibyou-like thing you said? My wound is mostly gone, and even now you can’t see it because my bangs are covering it, right? Oh, did Nikaidou say something to you? He’s quite the talker."

"That’s not it…"

"Your face tells me otherwise. Then let me ask you, do I look unlucky to you?"

Minato shook his head.

"See? The only one who decides if I'm lucky or not is me. It’s not something to have other people decide for you. For me, what’s unlucky is not having that place."

Masa-san grinned.

What they did not hear until now was the sound of the river flowing in the forest of the aqua terrarium.

The clear murmuring of the stream reminded him of a scene from summer training camp. It was fun and pleasant to spend the time together with everyone, and he wished that it could continue on like that forever.

Memories of summer vacation.

His precious bow friends.

"This is often used in analogies, but there is a cup half-filled with water. The levels of happiness are completely different for the people who think it’s half-full, and the people who think it’s half-empty. The one who associates the matter of a cup half-filled with water with things like happy or sad, good or bad, is oneself—"I." The matter itself is not good or evil."

"'Form is emptiness’—it’s similar to the Heart Sutra. Saionji-sensei taught it to us as a breathing method in the past." (6)

"Buddhism preaches casting away worldly desires. That fixations and desires cause people inconvenience. When those limiters are removed, a person are able to perform at their best.”

"Masa-san, I want to ask you something."

"Hmm? What’s that?”

“I want to touch the wound on your forehead——”

The current me can’t be like this person, who has such a clear view of things. "if at that time, if I didn’t stay in that spot and acted with everyone else, Masa-san wouldn’t have been injured”—I can’t erase that regret.

In that case, I’ll accept it all properly. I will continue to bear the truths that I want to turn my eyes away from, that I want to pretend doesn’t exist.

"Go ahead."

Masa-san moved his face closer, presenting his forehead. His eyes, deep blue like the sea, were slowly blinking.

Minato ran his heat-tinged fingers through Masa-san’s bangs.

Previous | Next

[plusultrabitchez]

I Will Run To You Chapter 1: UA Sports Festival

Shinsou's POV "It's time for the next match! Shoto Todoroki vs. (Y/N) Kubo!"

Midnight's voice rang through the stadium. Hitoshi perked when he heard her name. It was the Semifinals. Whoever won this match would continue to on to fight that asshole Bakugou kid. He was glad the crowd didn't boo her this time. During her first match, some asshole in the crowd threw stuff at her and called her "Villain Spawn" and soon after a lot of the crowd joined in and started booing her. Luckily Aizawa got on the stadium mic and defended her and called out the asshole that started it all. It made him sad how she reacted. No surprise, just acceptance, like she expected it to happen.

Kubo had won her previous matches easily and quickly. He wondered how she would fair against Todoroki since he was a big stand out in the festival so far.

"Ready? BEGIN!" . . "Holy shit!" Hitoshi muttered under his breath as Kubo effortlessly shattered an ice attack from Todoroki. "I had no idea she was this powerful." He thought. Whenever Todoroki sent out a huge blast of Ice Kubo would deflect it and throw a blast of pure energy his way. The entire stadium was on the edge of their seats.

The match was brutal and had been going on for almost 15 minutes. Hitoshi could tell the teachers were about to step in since both of you were in pretty bad shape. Earlier in the match, Kubo had dislocated her left shoulder, but before the teachers could step in she had popped it back into place and screamed: "Is that all you got?!" She was a legit badass and Hitoshi was really starting to admire her tenacity.

Kubo and Todoroki were on opposite sides of the battleground and started running at each other full force. Todoroki starting on a huge ice wall and Kubo generating a giant force field. Cementoss quickly created a wall between the two of them causing Todoroki to pull back, but Kubo didn't slow down.

She demolished the cement wall, the ice wall and forced Todoroki out of bounds in one fell swoop. She landed in front of Todoroki's unconscious body, the camera showed her on the giant screen. She was covered in cuts and bruises, but she still had a victorious smile. She went to take a step forward but her leg snapped and she screamed in pain as she collapsed to the ground which made his heart skip a beat.

The teachers rushed up to the two of them along with the medical team. There was some deliberation between them, then Midnight's voice came over the stadium speaker.

"Todoroki was forced out of bounds. However, Kubo's injuries are too severe for her to compete. Therefore Todoroki will move on to the next round!"

"What?!" Hitoshi stood up and clenched his fists. "That's bullshit! She beat him fair and square!" He couldn't believe the crowd was cheering. And he knew it was just because she had villain parents. If she had hero parents or even just regular parents she would be more popular than Bakugou and Todoroki combined. "I only met this girl a few hours ago. Why the hell do I care so much?" He thought to himself as he watched her unconscious body be taken off the field. "Should I go check on her? Would that be weird?" Hitoshi's thoughts were all over the place. He stared off into space and let his internal debate rage on. "Fuck it." He said and headed to Recovery Girl's Office. . . ~Your POV~ "This is such bullshit!" You sat on one of the beds in Recovery Girl's office while your dad Kaito and Aizawa tried to calm you down. "So just because I snapped my leg in half I can't compete?!" "Kubo, listen to what you're saying." Aizawa said. "You're in no condition to-" You cut him off. "I've had way worse and was able to fight then!" You looked to your dad who looked at you sadly. "(Y/N) you had no choice then. Trust me, this isn't because we don't believe you can, we just want to put your health first."

Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes. "You both know that I have to work 10x harder than anyone at this school because of who my parents are." You choked back a sob. "This was supposed to be my shot."

Kaito sat on the bed next to you and held you close while you cried. "You'll have another shot. This isn't the end."

After about an hour of Recovery Girl working her magic, your leg was pretty much healed. You had managed to stop crying and calm down a bit. You were still frustrated, but you understood the teachers were just trying to look out for you.

"You'll need to go easy for the next week and make sure to elevate at night." She told you while she patted your knee. You smiled at her. "I will. Thanks for fixing me up. Sorry for all the yelling earlier. I was upset and my adrenaline was pumping." She waved her hand. "It's quite alright dear." She smirked and leaned in. "I thought it was bullshit too." Her comment made you giggle. "Alright, get out! I'm sure I'll have more patients to deal with soon."

You stood up and hobbled out the door. "Hey." You heard a deep voice. You looked over and saw Shinsou. "Oh, hey. What are doing here?" You asked limping over to him. "Did Midoriya fuck you up or something?" He chuckled. "No no, I'm fine." He gulped and rubbed the back of his neck. "I uh, your fight was pretty intense so I just wanted to see if..." He looked at the floor in efforts to hide the pink painting his cheeks. "...just wanted to see, if you're okay."

You felt pink paint your own cheeks and gave him a soft smile. "Yeah uh, nothing she couldn't handle." You said gesturing at Recovery Girl's Office.

"It was a pretty bullshit call that they made. You won fair and square. They should've let you fight." Shinsou said looking up at you.

You smiled as your stomach did a backflip. "Thanks, Shinsou. I mean, in their defense my leg snapped pretty bad."

Shinsou looked at your leg with a concerned look. "Does it hurt?"

You waved your hand nonchalantly. "Meh, I've had worse. No biggie."

"She's had worse than a snapped in half leg?" He wanted to ask more about what you meant but decided not to press the subject.

"You know you're a really good fighter." Shinsou said breaking the silence.

"Oh, thanks! Lots of practice." You said fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "Why the fuck am I so nervous?"

"I could teach you if you want." You blurted out.

Shinsou looked surprised. "Umm..."

"Oh fuck, now I insulted him. God (Y/N) you idiot he probably is already learning and why the hell would he want to learn from a fellow student let alone you of all people."  Your mind was going nuts.

"Uh sorry, I didn't mean to insult you. I'm sure you already-I mean, I'm sure you have someone- I uh...I'm gonna go." You started to limp away as you tried not to die of embarrassment.

"Kubo wait..." Shinsou reached out and grabbed your hand to stop you from walking away. His touch sent sparks through your body. He wasn't as built as your other male classmates, but he had strong hands. "That would be awesome actually."

His words made you perk up. "Really?"

He chuckled. "Yeah I mean, it was kind of obvious in my match with Midoriya that fighting isn't my strong suit."

"Well, I thought you did fine." You smiled sweetly at him. "Midoriya is a hell of a wild card. I never know how fights will go with him."

Your words made Shinsou feel a bit better about his match. "Well, if I want to get into the hero course I obviously need to know how to fight effectively."

"It'll be easy! I can totally teach you! I've been training since I was 4 so I have a lot more experience than the other first years and I can teach you everything I know."

Shinsou smiled. "Thanks Kubo, that's really nice of you." He realized he was still holding your hand and quickly let go and shoved his hands in his pockets hoping he wasn't blushing too hard.

"Sure! Anything I can do to help." You said and gave him a thumbs up. "We can start meeting up after school next week. I'm sure I can convince the school to let us use the gym."

"Oh wow, so soon?" Shinsou gulped.

You looked concerned. "Is that okay? If you're busy that's totally fine! Just let me know when you're available to start."

Shinsou relaxed a little bit. "Yeah, that sounds good."

You smiled and your stomach growled loudly causing you to blush, but Shinsou laughed. "Do you want to get some food?"

"Oh my god yes please, I starving."

~Shinsou's POV~

After hitting up some of the food booths just outside the stadium and getting a ton of Gyoza and Dango, the two of you headed back up to sit with your classes and watch the final match. The two of you had somehow gotten onto the topic of horror movies and she was gushing about her favorites. He was liking this girl more and more. She was a total badass, sweet, smart, she loved horror movies, and was completely stunning. He was having to make a conscious effort not to stare at her and come off as a fucking creep.

"Oh my god I may love her." Shinsou thought to himself as he listened to her gush about Silence of the Lambs. While the two of them discussed Hannibal Lecter, a cute round-faced girl with brown hair came up to them.

"Hey, Uraraka." Kubo said with a smile. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to check on you since you've been gone for a while. I was worried."

Kubo seemed genuinely surprised by this which made Shinsou a little sad. How could someone so great not have a million friends?

"Oh, thanks Uraraka. That's so sweet of you. Yeah, I'm fine, I was just grabbing some food with Shinsou here."

His heart leaped when she said his name.

"Oh yeah! You fought Deku! That match was great! Your quirk is so cool!" Uraraka said and held out her hand. "It's so nice to meet you!"

Shinsou shook her hand and noticed the pads on her fingertips. "Toe beans..." he muttered.

"Oh fuck!" Kubo grabbed Uraraka's other hand and looked examined it. "Oh my god, you DO have little toe beans! Awwwww."

Uraraka went wide-eyed. "But... they're on my hands. Are you saying my fingers look like toes?"

"No!" Shinsou and Kubo yelled in unison. "You just have cute little pads like cats do. It's adorable!" Kubo said and gave her a reassuring smile. God, that smile. Shinsou wanted to see it every day.

"Okaaaay, well the final match is about to start, Midoriya and I saved you a seat up front." Uraraka smiled.

"Aw thank you." Kubo turned to face him. "Let me know when you want to train?"

"Yeah definitely will! I'll see you around school." Shinsou said rubbing the back of his neck.

"Great! Oh and Shinsou?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the food and for checking on me. That was really nice of you." She gave him a soft smile that made his heart melt.

"It's no problem. I'm glad I got to meet you today."

Kubo giggled. "Me too."

Shinsou smiled as he watched Kubo and Uraraka made their way to the class 1A viewing box. He walked into his own class's viewing box and sat down next to one of his friends.

"Dude you were gone a while, you okay?"

"Yeah, I was just checking up on Kubo." He said leaning back into his seat.

Another one of his classmates scoffed. "I'm sure princess is fine."

Shinsou rolled his eyes. "She's the farthest thing from a 'princess'."

"How would you know? You only met her a few hours ago."

They had a point, but Shinsou felt it in his bones that she was more complex than just a pretty girl in the hero course. "There's just...so much more to her."

[waterlinkedgirl]

New prince of tennis chapter 265-266 (+ new captains bonus)

Told you I’d make this a thing!

The chapters start off with what seems to e the announcement for a 20 years anniversary book called ‘tenipuri party,’ that’ll be released in summer (along the results of the popularity vote?)

The chapter starts off with the subtitle of ‘unpredictable, like the shadow’

Sanada stresses him taking on the opponent on their fields of expertise. Oswal comes in how he was completely fooled by Sanada’s earlier act, and says he’ll take on Sanada’s ‘makkou joubu’ (Os tries, hahaha)

The next point is played. Sanada starts off announcing “Swift,” and Os immediately anticipates the fuurinkazan he’s heard of from Jonathan. However, as he prepares to return it, Sanada finishes; “Swift, as a storm.” The ball stops at the baseline and even seems to bounce back a bit, as black lines signify the wind swirling and clearing.

woosh

After boasting how he won’t let oshishou-sama change flow from his favour Os hits the ball back unfavourably from I assume Sanada’s serve, immediately seeing he opened up space for Sanada’s ground smash like the fire--

“Invade, like a blaze!”

Unsurprisingly, Os is literally blown away.

One of the spectators announces that Sanada’s ‘FuuRinKaZan’ has evolved into ‘RanShinEnBou’, with each of the kanji one-upping the original ones. Turns out Sanada hadn’t just been polishing his patience, but his moves as well!

“Come!”

Man I love Sanada’s smirk it’s really good. Os is frustrated, and Sanada tells him to come at him with all he has, so he can crush him head-on into the ground. “It can’t be helped...” Os comes in. “For the sake of the french reps who believe in me and put me here... Though I was warned for it by the grandmother of my village...”

...this is one of the hand jutsu things from naruto isn’t it. What’s Os gonna do with it? We’ll find out in chapter 266!

Sanada, Byoudouin and Duke are all like ?! oh shut?! ...when Camus stops him and tells him his revolution is not now. He forfeits the match for Os.

This was the part where I was like, “Excuse me?” Firstly, it feels absolutely odd to stop Sanada’s match here, and for this reason. Secondly, this means no Camus vs Duke match, one that was hyped for like ages.

That shoulder touch is a meagre comfort.

“That last bit was a bit dangerous, wasn’t it?” We turn around and see... Ryoma?! Apparently this boy really did pull a Yukimura and healed really really fast, when he was on heart monitor and in coma hardly... what should it be, half an hour ago?

The chapter subtitle ‘golden age’ is namedropped for the princes of tennis! Which is cool. Ludo also comes back, on horseback and well--

Seriously, his horse is only getting bigger. And Camus invited him to go greet the victors with grace.

The scene cuts to Camus and Duke, with Duke saying that it ended without a fight between them (yeah) and Camus that it must have been a prank of fate (no, it wasn’t. YOU made Os forfeit.)

“Let’s settle it here.”

Duke asks him if he can hear the voice of tennis. Camus says “Merci. Of course.” Camus then continues that the middle schoolers, of which you have to enter at least three, and how you use them might be key to this tournament. The young talents of Japan who suppresed France’s young revolutionaries will surely be the ones to lead the tennis world into a new era.

Duke comes in “By the way, have you seen the outcome of the match between us?” At which they shake hands and Camus says “Go and cause a revolution in the world.”

We cut to Germany’s training halls. We see Atobe right across Tezuka! Will they duke it out before the semifinals??? Only Konomi knows.

And now a review of both of the chapters. To me, it seems painfully obvious that both the final developments in Sanada’s match as well as the match between Camus and Duke were cut, possibly because of popularity/sales reasons, possibly because of the new captains chapters. This is an absolute bummer and in my opinion a huge miss on Konomi’s part, considering how much Camus was hyped and the potential Duke showed in his exhibition match against Germany with Fuji. And now he seems to be pulling out all stops and pulling in all nostalgia bu having Atobe across the court from Tezuka... I sincerely hope these two aren’t gonna duke it out again.

Now regarding the new captains chapters, the translations of all of them have been put online so I won’t be doing a more in-depth summary, haha.

Seigaku’s is nice enough, with the faction wars between Kaidoh’s stoic one and Momo’s love and peace one, ultimately resolved with what seems to be like the polar opposite of Inui juice: ‘Katsuo broth’ Katsuo got the hugest glow-up btw. I wonder if they learned from Shiten’s nagashi soumen?

The next chapter; Oh my god why is Hyoutei naked. The answer is because of Hiyoshi Kingdom allowing him to see to the skin, but why. I’d have loved to have seen some actual captaining struggles but at least we know Sakaki is ripped and someone on the writing team has a huge bonheur for Hyoutei.

Higa actually has the most decent chapter, even if the developments are basically “All members of the team leave, Aragaki is left on his own, Higa’s OBs come to pay a visit, everyone comes back again.”

Shitenhouji’s... It’s great that Zaizen does his captainy thing. It’s great that Shiraishi and all the captains before him actually making the schedule and having a bunch of set tasks caues him to respect his seniors (even when at first he was like ‘nope not doing this’ upon seeing the list), and it’s wonderful that the team wants to support Zaizen anyway despite him not opening with a joke or two. Cue Zaizen actually making a full boke face, with the subtitle “Turns out my senpais weren’t idiots after all.” That could have... used a bit more buildup, tbh. Logically I could have understood where it came from were it not that the rest of the chapter was more focussed on captain’s duties, and that Shiraishi himself wasn’t great at comedy, either.

Which brings me to Rikkai. Hotly debated doesn’t cut it. I said in the past that Kirihara maybe doesn’t have the personality and/or mental stability to take the role of captain... I kind of want to take that all back now. The problem is that Konomi’s equation makes sense, in a sense: Rikkai needs a buchou more stable and supportive, someone more like Yukimura, even if he only has a reputation to be good at lobs. Kirihara is stronger but less stable, and he doesn’t have the greatest reputation in the club with his history. However, Kirihara does seem to be fit for a role more like Sanada’s, harsher in the core but nonetheless supporting. Except with the way Konomi goes about it, all of my feelings end up feeling cheated. Tamagawa comes out of thin air, he’s only said to have a reputation to be good at lobs, all of Rikkai but especially the troika is almost uncharacteristically harsh, Kirihara enters Devil Mode again frustrated about it all (and because he stumbled over a ball cart) and then Tamagawa is shown to be really popular, at which Kirihara takes the fukubuchou cap... If the chapter had like three times the length and some actual decent characterisation for both Rikkai and Tamagawa, I might have been able to accept it. Right now, however, I don’t, and I wish it all to be just a prank from Yukimura’s side so that Kirihara might claim the captain spot with his own power. Because that, seems much more like the Rikkai thing to do than... this. On top of that, this negates all development he’d have gotten from his match together with Shiraishi, which also frustrates me. I agree with Konomi that that more violent part of Kirihara is kind of part of his appeal, over a softer uwu baby side, but if anything, he could have restored him to off-match Kantou Kirihara and make him captain that way, because that characterisation is literally my favourite and I miss it a lot.

[thecorpulentbeagle]

Okujima Week 2019: Angst/Comforting

Here is the second day of this challenge. I’ve actually been experiencing some shoulder pain recently, so it was easy to write that part of this story realistically!

Interestingly enough, the new dancing games helped me a lot with this story, because it’s apparently cannon that not only is Makoto talented at aikido (which was kind of evident in the main game), but she has apparently won tons of trophies. And evidently, her sister is even better than her, which is slightly terrifying!

Here is the fanfiction.net link.

Please enjoy this next part of the Okujima Week 2019 Challenge!

Okujima Week 2019 Challenge:

The Healing Touch:

Angst/Comforting

-Haru-

“A toast to our champion!” A cacophony of cheers erupted at this declaration. Glasses were clinked, and a chorus of laughter followed.

“Please.” An embarrassed Makoto sat stiffly, her face slightly red. “There’s no need to go all out or celebrate. It’s just a win.”

“A win? Makoto, you just won the whole damn tournament!” Ryuji exclaimed, pounding his fist on the table.

The recently disbanded Phantom Thieves were currently engaging in a party of sorts at the usual hangout space of Leblanc, an unusually cheerful Sae accompanying them. The strategic advisor of the group had participated in an aikido tournament just hours earlier, and she had advanced to the final round before ultimately winning.

Makoto had insisted that it was no big deal, and that she had won plenty of matches and tournaments before, the irony of that statement being a topic of conversation. How could one be modest enough to say it wasn’t a big deal before mentioning all of her previous wins in an off-handed way? It seemed that only the student council president could.

Haru knew that Makoto was not falsely boasting either. Having been to her girlfriend’s room several times, she had seen firsthand the numerous trophies lined up on her shelves. Completely in character, Makoto had waved away Haru’s admiration, though the gardener could tell by her blush that she was flattered by the well-earned compliments.

“Yes, Makoto. This celebration truly is well-deserved.” Sae raised a glass at her younger sister, winking at her from across the table.

“See! Even Sae-san thinks it’s a big deal!” Ann nudged the embarrassed senior’s right side, giggling.

“Th-thanks, Sis,” Makoto muttered, tucking some hair back behind her ear.

Sitting on the girl’s other side, Haru leaned on her shoulder. “Yes. You truly were remarkable!” She nuzzled into her, conveying just how proud she was of her girlfriend.

What Haru did not expect was for Makoto to growl slightly and pull away. It was subtle enough that no one else saw or heard it, as Haru deftly moved her head away to make it seem like her action had been meant as a quick one, rather than actually settling her head there for a few minutes.

But it concerned Haru. Sure, Makoto did not like public displays of affection, but she was usually comfortable enough to engage in them around her close friends. In fact, the two had even hugged and kissed in front of the others once the initial teasing had died down.

She looked at Makoto to see that she was not looking at her. She… didn’t seem embarrassed, but why else would she have pulled away?

“Congratulations, Makoto.” Haru lost her train of thought to look up at their leader. Akira appeared as disheveled as always, his black hair askew and his glasses slightly off-kilter. He had been particularly invested in the outcome of the match, seeing that he had used it as a reason to visit.

“Thank you, Akira.” The student council president smiled, acknowledging his compliment.

“So now that we’ve officially gotten Makoto to actually accept some praise, we should have another round!” Futaba jumped up from her spot in the booth, waving at Sojiro. “Another round!”

The owner sighed and shook his head as he walked over with some more drinks for everyone. “You’re a bit too excited about ordering this, Futaba. It’s not like it’s alcohol or anything.”

“Ooh! Now that ya mention it, could we get a couple of beers or somethin’? I mean, it’s not every day we get to celebrate like this.” Ryuji’s eyes gleamed.

“Are you sure you’d like to say that in front of a person of the law, Ryuji?” Yusuke asked calmly, his hands folded together on the table in front of him.

The scruffy blonde’s head whipped over to said attorney. “I… uh…”

Sae shook her head. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. But no alcohol. Is that understood?”

Morgana hopped up from where he had been on the floor. “Now I see where Makoto learned her behavior from.”

The group laughed. Seeing the confusion upon Sojiro’s and Sae’s faces brought even more laughter.

The gang celebrated in this fashion for another hour before finally calling it quits. Though it was the end of the week, the Phantom Thieves still had one more day of school before a free day, so they couldn’t go completely overboard.

After Futaba, Akira, and Sojiro waved the group goodbye, they walked the streets until arriving at the subway station. The group further split up, with Haru, Makoto, and Sae staying together. It had been decided earlier that Haru would spend the night, since the couple had planned a day together once school had ended for the week.

On the way there, Haru continued to notice Makoto’s odd behavior. She seemed to be using her right hand for everything, from swiping her subway pass to holding onto the handles of the vehicle. Which, in and of itself, wasn’t completely unusual, seeing as the girl was right-handed. But the way that her left arm hung limply at her side, and that she seemed to avoid any and all contact on that side… was strange.

Haru thought back to the tournament, as she hadn’t been acting that way before. She had been knocked around throughout the event, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. They had all suffered much worse in the Metaverse, though, that might not exactly compare to real-world injuries.

She’d suffered a particularly nasty fall in the semifinals, but she had recovered and had ultimately won the match. She’d even defeated her opponent in the finals, so clearly, she wasn’t seriously injured.

Even so, Haru couldn’t help but worry.

The three made small-talk as the subway made its way to their destination. Haru didn’t want to worry her girlfriend now, but she did want to discuss her behavior in private. She thought it might be best to have that conversation away from Sae, just in case.

Eventually, the three made it back to the Niijima apartment, where Sae quickly unlocked the door and let them all in.

The girls discarded their bags onto one of the couches in the living room, Haru noticing that Makoto appeared to be moving very slowly and deliberately. It had to be an injury that was making her move like this… right?

Haru looked over at Sae to see if she had noticed, but the woman was currently scrolling through her phone, no doubt doing something work-related.

“I’m going to go change. Haru, I have a set of pajamas for you to use as well. I’ll let you change once I’m done.” Haru turned her head back towards her girlfriend to see her smiling tightly, almost mechanically. It appeared to be a grimace.

“Okay, Mako-chan. I’ll make sure to keep Sae-san company.” She winked at Makoto, who chuckled slightly before turning on her heel and heading into her room, closing the door behind her.

“You’ve seen that she’s in pain, I assume?”

Haru jumped slightly at the sudden voice. She looked back at the only other person in the room, and saw Sae giving her an intense look. So, it seemed that she had noticed something off with her sister after all.

Realizing she should give an answer, as Sae was waiting for one, she responded, “I have. I… didn’t want to bring it up. She seemed to not want me to even know about it.”

The gardener was slightly surprised to see the woman smirk. “That would make sense. Makoto has always been stubborn when it comes to toughing out an injury. Though I have to admit, she really isn’t that skilled at covering it up. She practically jumped through the roof when you laid your head on her shoulder.”

Haru tilted her head. “You saw that?”

Sae nodded. “I see everything.” At that slightly creepy statement, Haru merely stared. Sae shook her head. “Kidding aside, I do notice a lot when it comes to Makoto. My career path, plus her being my little sister gives me an acute awareness of such things.” She put a hand to her chin. “I can only assume that being her best friend and girlfriend affords you similar insights.”

Haru nodded. Though Sae had accepted her dating her sister rather easily, the woman was still very intense, and Haru was sometimes nervous when it was just the two of them alone. Makoto had a bit of an awkward side, which was one of the reasons Haru liked her so much. Her sister on the other hand, seemed to be constantly serious, with little to no instances of physical or verbal stumbles. To put it simply, Haru was sometimes intimidated by the older woman. She could see why Makoto (in her own words) struggled to live up to her expectations.

There was a moment of silence as the two said nothing. Haru wasn’t quite sure what needed to be said, and she quietly hoped that Makoto would finish quickly so that there was a bit of a buffer.

A slight chime rang through the air, and Haru watched as Sae lifted her phone up closer to her face, the device having never left her hand. Her eyes darted around the screen, her expression becoming somewhat serious.

“You’ll have to excuse me.” Sae picked up her recently discarded bag and slipped her phone into it. “Something’s come up that needs to be taken care of tonight.”

“Sae-san?”

Sae had made her way to the door, turning at Haru’s voice. “I will see you two tomorrow morning.” Gripping the door handle and pulling the door open she gave a slight smile. “Please take care of my sister for me. I’m counting on you.”

Haru gave a slight gulp, but grinned nonetheless. “I plan to.” Sae simply nodded and left, locking the door behind her.

Haru gave a deep sigh, but her smile remained. Though she was nervous about living up to Sae’s expectations of her, she felt a rush of pride at having the strict woman trust her so easily with a loved one’s care.

“Where’d Sis run off to?”

For the second time that night, Haru jumped at the unexpected voice. She turned around to see Makoto in her pajamas, which featured the round and bubbly face of Buchimaru-kun. Haru thought she looked completely adorable in it, and she enjoyed the fact that Makoto felt comfortable enough around her to dress in it, as the character itself was somewhat childish.

“Oh. She had to run into the office to deal with an important matter.” She walked over to the other girl. “She didn’t say what it was, but that she’d be back in the morning.”

Makoto nodded. “I see. I’d hoped she’d take at least tonight off because of the tournament. She really does work too hard sometimes…” The student council president looked at the closed door, clearly worried about her sister.

Wanting to ease her pain (both mentally and physically), Haru placed a soft hand on Makoto’s face. “She’ll be fine, Mako-chan. She can definitely take care of herself.” Smiling at the way Makoto leaned into her hand, she moved on to the main issue. “But enough about Sae-san. I’m more worried about you!”

Makoto gave her a questioning look. “What about me?”

Haru moved her hand from Makoto’s face to her left shoulder. Pressing it slightly, she was rewarded with a sharp hiss from the other girl, who quickly stepped back.

Haru did feel bad to cause her girlfriend pain, but she had to prove to Makoto that she knew she was hurting. “The fact that I can’t even touch your left shoulder without you wincing in pain.”

Makoto chuckled. “Ha. I guess I should’ve known you’d pick up on that.”

“Of course!” Haru nodded. “So now I’m going to take care of you, whether you want me to or not.”

The other girl sighed. “It’s really nothing. I’ve had this type of injury before.” She rolled her shoulder and winced. “I just need to put some ice on it for a while, and I’ll be all set.”

“Hm…” Haru looked at Makoto, thinking. She wasn’t sure how much of her worry was an overreaction, and how much was valid concern. It didn’t help that Makoto was literally attempting to shrug off the injury.

Makoto blushed slightly. “Haru. Y-you’re staring quite a bit.” She looked away, clearly embarrassed.

“I can’t help but be concerned, Mako-chan!” Haru tapped her girlfriend’s nose, which caused her to look up, startled. “You’re precious to me, so it pains me to see you hurt.”

“Ah. Trying to guilt me into letting you take care of me, huh?” Makoto smirked.

Haru gave a slight huff, irritated that Makoto had caught onto what she had been attempting so quickly. “Enough of this!” She darted behind the other girl and began pushing her towards the couch in the living room. “I will make it my mission to heal you!”

Makoto seemed to not expect such a sudden and strong response. She spluttered comically as she forced herself to move, lest Haru inadvertently shove her to the ground. “Haru! Please be careful. I’ve fallen enough times, tonight.”

Now that Makoto was moving, Haru eased up slightly. They made it to the couch, where Haru gave the other girl a light tap on her non-injured shoulder to indicate that she should sit.

As she did so, Haru made her way over to the freezer. “You just get comfortable, Mako-chan. I’ll be over with the ice in a moment.”

She could hear the grunts of pain from the student council president as she adjusted herself. Though Haru had been overdramatic moments earlier in order to have Makoto accept help, she truly did feel slight pain at the thought of her girlfriend being so uncomfortable.

Having experienced minor injuries in the past with her ballet, Haru knew somewhat how to treat them. She assumed that Makoto merely strained or bruised her shoulder. Had it been something more serious like a dislocation, she would surely have been in much greater pain.

Pulling open a drawer in the freezer, the gardener scooped out some ice and deposited it into a plastic baggie that had been taken from one of the cabinets. Having been over several times before, Haru knew where practically everything was in the kitchen.

She snapped up a dish towel that had been hanging on the freezer handle, wrapping it around the ice bag so that it wouldn’t make direct contact with Makoto’s skin.

“You’ve done this before.”

Haru looked over to see Makoto watching her, her eyes curious.

She smiled. “Yes. I’ve dealt with some bruises and sprains in the past.” She walked over to Makoto. “I used to practice ballet when I was little.”

“That makes sense. You are very graceful.” Makoto seemed to think for a moment. “That sounds… familiar. Have you told me that before?”

“I’m not sure.” Haru sat down next to her girlfriend. “I don’t usually talk about it, but I suppose I could have.”

Makoto made to reach for the ice, but Haru pulled back, setting it down behind her. “Ah. I’m going to treat you, remember?”

The other girl gave a confused look. “But you got the ice for me. I can handle putting it on my own shoulder.”

“Maybe. But I have another idea.” Haru’s eyes grew mischievous as she leaned closer.

“U-um…” Makoto stuttered but didn’t move away. A slight blush formed on her cheeks.

Smirking, Haru reached up towards Makoto’s collar and took hold of the top button. She slowly eased it out of it’s hold, her shirt opening up slightly.

“H-Haru!”

“Yes, Mako-chan?” Haru asked innocently, halting her progress.

“W-what exactly are you doing?” Haru moved her focus away from the girl’s shirt towards her face, which was now extremely red.

“Unbuttoning your shirt?” Haru said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“B-but why?”

“So that I can place the ice on your bare shoulder of course!” Haru smiled, enjoying how easily her girlfriend was flustered.

“Oh.”

It was such a short and simple response, with a hint of disappointment, that Haru couldn’t help but tease her further. “Why, Mako-chan? Were you expecting something else?”

“N-no!”

Haru clicked her tongue in mock disapproval. “Mako-chan. I can’t believe where your mind went. I’m just helping my girlfriend feel better.”

Makoto’s face somehow got even redder. “I-I… I mean… clearly you were…”

Haru giggled. “I was what?”

“N-nothing.” Haru was slightly disappointed to see Makoto give up so easily, but she could always tease her later.

She returned to unbuttoning the next few buttons, enough to be able to pull the shirt aside and expose Makoto’s shoulder, but not enough to see anything else. As she pulled the shirt away, she murmured, “Perhaps if you’re feeling better later, we can finish what you started in your mind. Unless, of course, it was nothing.” Haru leaned forward and placed a few gentle kisses on her shoulder.

After she had finished, Haru looked up to see Makoto nodding her head slowly. “I… think I’d like that, Haru.”

The gardener smiled. “Good!” Reaching behind herself, she lifted the ice bag and hovered it over Makoto’s shoulder. “Now, I’m going to place the ice here. Let me know if it hurts, okay?”

Makoto nodded again.

Haru slowly draped the bag over Makoto’s shoulder, a slight tremor running through the other girl. “Easy now…” Haru whispered soothingly.

Once it had been placed, Haru gave Makoto’s lips a quick peck before pulling back. “That should do it.” She looked at Makoto. “How are you feeling?”

The student council president sighed. “Better. It’s stiff, but the ice is helping with the swelling.”

“I’m glad.” Haru leaned back into the couch, taking hold of Makoto’s hand. “Now how exactly did you get this injury? Was it when you were thrown in the semifinals?”

Makoto shrugged, which caused her to wince. “I suppose. To be honest…”

“Hm?” Haru squeezed her hand, subtly encouraging her to continue.

“Well… I had hurt it a bit during practice yesterday. Training gone wrong,” she joked, chuckling. “Anyway, I woke up this morning feeling stiff, but I figured it would clear up. That throw in the semifinals exacerbated it, and by the time I reached the finals… I wasn’t sure if I’d make it.”

“Mako-chan…” Haru leaned over and gave her another kiss, this one a little more passionate. Pulling back, she continued in a worried tone, “Why didn’t you withdraw from the tournament? The worst thing you can do when you’re injured is exercise it more.”

“I…” Makoto sighed. “I didn’t want to quit. I mean… Akira made the journey all the way from his hometown to watch. And Sis took off work early, even if she just went back tonight. And…” She trailed off, looking away.

“And…?” Haru wasn’t going to let her girlfriend not speak her mind.

“And you were going to be there, cheering me on.” Makoto looked back, her eyes slightly teary. “I didn’t want to disappoint you. I… wanted to impress you. You’ve seen all the trophies I have, and how hard I fought back when we were Phantom Thieves. I… didn’t want to… be weak in front you. I wanted to prove to you that I can protect you!”

Haru was shocked at her unexpected emotional outburst. The two had just been kidding around moments before. She had no idea how important this particular tournament had been for her girlfriend. And what exactly did she mean about protecting her? Surely, now that their Metaverse days were over, there wasn’t anything to protect her from? “Makoto. I would never be disappointed in you. Ever.” She squeezed her hand. “And… what would you be protecting me from?”

Makoto sighed. “It’s… hard to explain. I don’t understand it fully myself. But,” she squeezed Haru’s hand, “ever since… my father… died… I swore that I’d protect my loved ones with everything that I had. I couldn’t… bear to lose anyone else. That’s why I trained so hard, every day.” A tear escaped from her eye, slowly rolling down her cheek. “I practiced aikido, I studied law, anything to be able to prevent criminals from hurting others.”

Haru’s heart ached from the anguish that her girlfriend was now expressing. “Makoto…”

“If anything happened to Sis, or to you…” Makoto gave a small sniff. “I don’t know what I’d do. And as for what I’d be protecting you from… you’re the heiress to one of the most successful fast-food chains in the world. There could be any number of people who would try to harm you for any number of reasons.”

Haru sighed. That was a fact she knew all too well. Being in the public eye like she was meant that she received all kinds of attention, most of it good, but some of it terrible. There were many people who still hadn’t forgiven her father for his lapses in workplace safety, and that ill will had transferred over to her. So far, no attempts had been made on her life, but she knew that could change at any time.

“Makoto… I don’t want to tell you that there’s nothing to worry about, because you’re right. But,” Haru reached out a hand and cupped her girlfriend’s cheek, stroking it with gently with her thumb, “I know that you’ll protect me. Even if you lose a match every once in a while, I’ve seen how hard you work every day.” She wiped away another tear that had been on Makoto’s face. “You don’t have to be perfect. You’re amazing just as you are.”

“Haru…” Makoto sniffed again, attempting to regain her composure.

“There’s no one I trust more. And besides,” she decided to throw in a joke to lighten the mood slightly, “I am a Phantom Thief! Even if I don’t have powers anymore, I can still hit back!”

“True enough, Haru.” Makoto smiled. “I apologize for losing myself for a moment. Perhaps… this injury is bothering me more than I thought.” She reached up and shifted the ice pack.

“Makoto. You’re allowed to express your feelings. Honestly, it makes me feel good to know that you trust me enough to talk about your insecurities.” Haru gave Makoto’s face a light pat before returning her hand back to the other girl’s intertwining their fingers together.

“Thank you, Haru. I’ll try to do so in the future.” Makoto’s face fell. “And… I apologize for bringing up my father. I know… the pain is still fresh for you.”

Haru winced. Her girlfriend was right once again. She’d avoided really thinking about it due to her concern for Makoto, but now that she had pointed it out, it was difficult to ignore the throbbing pain in her chest that surfaced whenever she thought about her late father.

“It… does still sting, it’s true. But… it’s starting to sting less and less, as time goes on.” Haru felt a tear drop from her own eyes. “Perhaps we’re both hurting more than we’re letting on.”

Haru was surprised to find Makoto’s lips on her own. The two kissed for a brief moment before the latter pulled away. “Even so, it’s a comfort to know that we’re each here for the other to lean on. Time heals all wounds, as they say, but having someone to empathize with… heals a great deal more. So, thank you again, Haru. For healing both my physical and emotional wounds.” Makoto squeezed her hand.

Haru nodded. “You’re welcome. And thank you as well.”

The two smiled at each other, enjoying the deep feelings that had resulted from this conversation.

Deeming that they’d had enough of this type of talk for one evening, Haru decided to switch gears. “Now then. While it’s been very nice talking through our problems, I believe that we had something else in store for tonight?” Her eyes twinkled.

Makoto tilted her head. “Did we?”

Haru leaned forward, removing the ice bag from Makoto’s shoulder. “Something like this, perhaps?” She moved her lips to the girl’s exposed shoulder, kissing her gently as she had before. This time, though, it seemed to have a much more profound effect on her girlfriend.

The gardener could feel Makoto jolt. “I-I thought that was going to be later?”

Haru raised her head, smirking at the other girl. “It’s been a few minutes. I believe that constitutes as later.”

Makoto wearily shook her head. “After the tournament and our conversation… I honestly don’t think I have enough energy.”

Haru giggled. “Fair enough. My exhaustion’s catching up to me as well.” She gave one last kiss to her shoulder before beginning to button up the student council president’s shirt. “Besides, I don’t want to make your injury even worse.”

“Hm…”

Haru gave a quick peck to Makoto’s cheek. “I’ll go change, and then we can simply go to bed. How does that sound?”

Makoto smiled warmly at her. “Perfect.”

There we go! I do not claim to know more than some basics of aikido, so if there are any mistakes/misconceptions, I do apologize. Hopefully, the rest of the story (especially the angst/comforting parts) will make up for it!

The tournament that Makoto participated in here is based off of Toshu Randori of the Tomiki style, though there are many other forms. From what I researched, aikido is not really supposed to be used for a traditional “competition”, but more so a demonstration of principles in a controlled environment. But I stretched the purpose just a little bit so that Makoto could be feasibly hurt outside of practice.

Also, for those who have played Persona 5: Dancing in Starlight, the conversation in this story that Haru and Makoto have about Makoto wondering whether or not Haru told her about ballet stems from the fact that what happens in that dreamworld is forgotten by everyone when they wake up. I headcannon that they remember it on a subconscious level, hence the déjà vu feeling they experience here.

Hope you enjoyed, and see you tomorrow!

[recentanimenews]

Bookshelf Briefs 6/25/18

Astra: Lost in Space, Vol. 3 | By Kenta Shinohara | Viz Media – Two things are the most notable about this volume of Astra, which otherwise sees our heroes going to more alien worlds and slowly firming up into the obvious romantic couples. The first is the big reveal that Luca is intersex, which comes out after a confrontation with Ulgar over Luca’s father, the senator. We’ve seen intersex characters in manga before, but it doesn’t usually hit Jump titles. The other reveal is back with the parents discussing their kids, who have now been missing for a month. It’s clear that there is some sort of big conspiracy going on here. That said, I’m not sure I’d really be continuing with this if I didn’t know the next volume was the last. I look forward to it ending, but also want to see the end. – Sean Gaffney

Battle Angel Alita: Mars Chronicle, Vol. 2 | By Yukito Kishiro | Kodansha Comics – Having recently started reading and enjoying the original Battle Angel Alita, I was naturally curious about Mars Chronicle. While the first volume of Mars Chronicle served as a prequel to Battle Angel Alita, taking place during Alita’s childhood as a war orphan on Mars, the second volume is a sequel set after the events of the Last Order series. Tying the volumes together are the characters and the Martian landscape. Alita finds herself caught up in a dramatic battle with Erica, her childhood friend and another expert martial artist, while larger efforts to establish a unified Mars are in danger of collapsing, Alita herself framed for an assassination attempt of the emerging leader. For the most part, Mars Chronicle is a fairly accessible series even for those who haven’t read the earlier manga, although some basic familiarity with the franchise can still be useful. – Ash Brown

Food Wars!: Shokugeki no Soma, Vol. 24 | By Yuto Tsukuda and Shun Saeki | Viz Media – One of the more iconic things about Food Wars! are the images that are drawn by the artist summing up the preparation of food. Sometimes, when it involves the judges eating, it’s pure fanservice, but not always. There’s two terrific portraits here of the different types of cooking that two of the teams do—the one with Gin, Takumi and Megumi is shown as a sort of cocktail jazz band, while the one with Soma, his dad and Erina is shown to be avant-garde Jackson-Pollock style painters. It’s great stuff, and helps get us into the big final matches, which start with Soma immediately having rotten luck destroy him, as he’s challenging a soba expert and the meal they’re doing is soba. Ah well, he’s the hero, I’m sure he’ll come up with something. – Sean Gaffney

Ghost in the Shell README: 1995-2017 | By Takuma Shindo | Kodansha Comics – Despite being subtitled 1995-2017, the recent Hollywood live-action Ghost in the Shell film is oddly the first incarnation of Shirow Masamune’s manga to be addressed by the README guide and artbook. The rest of the volume is devoted to the various anime films and series by Mamoru Oshii, Kenji Kamiyama and, most recently, Kazuchika Kise. Each of the adaptations is given a chapter of its own which includes general information, story summaries, character, mechanical, and landscape designs, an abundance of full-color artwork, and more. For me the most interesting parts of README were the essays, the interview with Atsuko Tanaka and Maaya Sakamoto (the voices of “The Major,” Motoko Kusanagi), and the roundtable featuring all of the Ghost in the Shell anime directors in conversation with one another. README will likely appeal most to established fans of the franchise, but it provides a terrific overview and general introduction, too. – Ash Brown

Horimiya, Vol. 11 | By Hero and Daisuke Hagiwara | Yen Press – It really is impressive how the author of Horimiya is just not letting go of the fact that Hori really gets turned on by being dominated/struck, and that this really seems to bother Miyamura. It’s one reason, perhaps, why the volume ends with a short chapter that shows that, though they love each other, they still have tremendous difficulty figuring out how the other thinks. And there’s also Hori’s rage issues, which they at least acknowledge but don’t really deal with. As for the other couples, well, Ishikawa and Yoshikawa (Ishiyoshi?) are still struggling a bit, mostly due to embarrassment and embarrassing family. Horimiya isn’t as fantastic as it once was, but it’s still fun. – Sean Gaffney

Kuroko’s Basketball, Vols. 23-24 | By Tadatoshi Fujimaki | VIZ Media – We begin with the conclusion of the Winter Cup semifinal game, during which Seirin manages to defeat Kaijo by a one-point margin. It’s tense and exciting and there is a lot of manly crying. Rather than move right into the finals, however, the story diverges into flashback mode, with Kuroko telling the story of his time at Teiko Middle. This arc is fabulous and I’m a little bummed we didn’t have it earlier, as it would’ve informed so many of Kuroko’s interactions with his former teammates. However, putting it before his big matchup against Akashi makes sense, since Akashi was the one who sensed his potential to develop a unique style in the first place. In particular, I wasn’t expecting to come out of the arc loving Aomine so much. It’s nice knowing he finally did find someone who could defeat him. One of the best volumes in a while! – Michelle Smith

Kuroko’s Basketball, Vols. 23-24 | By Tadatoshi Fujimaki | Viz Media – As you might expect, Kuroko solves things, and is even allowed to make the winning shot—something that stuns him a bit. We’re clearly getting near to the end of the series, which means it’s now time for a biiiig flashback showing how the Generation of Miracles actually came to be. As you might imagine given everyone we’ve seen, it was not free and easy. Kuroko is almost put off the team a few times and the others barely work together at all. (It’s also cute seeing a middle-school, pre-sexy knockout Momoi falling for Kuroko.) I’m glad that this flashback is coming now, as we’ve come to know all the leads, and it also gives us a break from the tournament while still being filled with basketball. – Sean Gaffney

Mushroom Girls in Love | By Kei Murayama | Seven Seas – If it weren’t for the length, this could easily have fit right into the middle of A Centaur’s Life, a series that seems to enjoy randomly wandering off into whatever the hell for a few chapters on end. Instead of animal-human hybrids, this time it’s fungi-human hybrids, as our heroines try to stay married and in love despite root rot, royalty trying to break them up, and evading gunfire and the world seemingly being against them. As with A Centaur’s Life, this is not so much comedic or dramatic as just plain weird. And then there’s the girls riding tarantulas like horses… I guess what I mean to say is that if you like A Centaur’s Life and wish that the lesbians were the main characters, give this a shot. – Sean Gaffney

Princess Jellyfish, Vol. 9 | By Akiko Higashimura | Kodansha Comics – In many respects, this is a satisfying finale. Jelly Fish is back in business and it’s great to see the girls, particularly Jiji, finally able to don fancy clothes without hesitation in order to help Tsukimi’s visions become reality. In fact, I pretty much cried straight through from that point on. Reveals and reunions occur, but when one looks closer, one sees that several things remain unsettled. Amamizukan is still owned by Kai Fish, we don’t know whether Jelly Fish will actually be a success, and we don’t know how Tsukimi feels about Kuranosuke being in love with her (though I do love that he recognizes she doesn’t need a man right now). The feeling is all very optimistic, though, and perhaps it’s for the best that we just imagine a happy outcome without worrying about the details. It’s hard to believe it’s over! – Michelle Smith

Wotakoi: Love Is Hard for Otaku, Vol. 2 | By Fujita | Kodansha Comics – If you enjoyed the first volume of Wotakoi, this second one gives you more of what you enjoyed. The four leads are still all otaku types, but realistic and not caricatured. We get to see how Hanako and Taro met, which temporarily turns Wotakoi into Haikyu!! for a bit, and also see the couples accidentally getting swapped thanks to a haunted roller coaster. And there’s a new character, introduced (I thought) to be a gay love interest to Naoya, but no, she’s just a shy girl who dresses like a schlub. Still, there’s some comedy to be mined from hiding this from Naoya for the time being. As an anime and manga geek, reading Wotakoi is both fun and heartwarming, and I like it a lot. – Sean Gaffney

Wotakoi: Love Is Hard for Otaku, Vol. 2 | By Fujita | Kodansha Comics – I really liked the first Wotakoi omnibus, but I flatout loved this one. All of the characters are so great and so vivid, and there was an interesting structure to the two volumes included here. In the first, the continuing story of Hirotaka and Narumi’s first real date is interspersed with short vignettes and the story of how Naoya makes a friend. I came away with a much stronger idea of why Hirotaka loves Narumi, and how he feels like an inferior adult compared to her. In the second volume, the continuing story is an amazing flashback to Kabakura and Koyanagi in high school, with all the tsundere goodness one could wish for. Ordinarily, characters who bicker this much would bother me, but these two are the exception. This is a fabulous series that everyone should be reading. Get on it! – Michelle Smith

Yuuna and the Haunted Hot Springs, Vol. 2 | By Tadahiro Miura | Seven Seas – If nothing else, Yuuna is proving to be a slightly better ecchi Jump title than To-Love-Ru has, possibly as there’s slightly less emphasis on falling into everyone’s breasts all the time. Only slightly, though, and Yuuna still positions itself for one type of reader and one alone—the horny teenage boy. But if I were a horny teenage boy, I’d like this—Kogarashi is a bit less hapless than the typical ecchi protagonist, the girls are for the most part fun (I was amused that the drunken Kitsune wannabe is a manga artist), and there is the occasional sweet romantic tease. Still, if you’re expecting romance, read Nisekoi. If you want boobs, this is the book for you. – Sean Gaffney

By: Michelle Smith

[geekprincess26]

Black Castles and Blue Pencils

Written for Day 2 of Jonsa Week 2017 event organized and hosted by the magnificent ladies over at @jonsa-week!  This story is the third installment of my “Blue Pencils” series (previous installments can be read here: Part 1 | Part 2), but can be read as a standalone story.

Sansa Stark’s hand rose to her mouth barely in time to cover the huge yawn emerging from it.  For at least the fourth time that morning, she silently cursed the rule disallowing any food or drink in Casterly Rock Preparatory School’s community room during academic events.  She could really use a cup of coffee or two – maybe even three, given the unearthly hour at which she’d had to climb out of bed on a Saturday morning to drive Bran to his chess tournament.  That responsibility normally rested with one of their parents, but Ned Stark was out of town on business and Catelyn Stark with Rickon at his final rehearsal for the Wintertown Community Theater’s spring play.  And Arya, who was technically old enough to drive Bran, flat-out refused to get up at half-past seven on a Saturday morning for any reason at all.

Now Sansa was stuck in a brown metal folding chair without any coffee at all and without her sketch pad, which she normally took with her everywhere, to keep her from falling asleep.  She’d meant to grab it on her way out the door, but she’d hit the snooze button on her alarm clock one too many times and had to run around the house like a chicken with its head cut off in order to have any hope of getting Bran to his tournament on time.  Her normally placid brother had snapped at her as she’d sprinted up the stairs to retrieve her purse from her bedroom, and she’d been so flustered by his uncharacteristic outburst that she had forgotten the sketch pad altogether.  She’d also forgotten that her phone was charging on her nightstand instead of tucked into her purse.

So Sansa found herself without any means of staying awake at all except for shifting in her chair, staring at the clock, and ducking out into the hallway for a drink from the water fountain between matches.  That, and greeting Jon Snow, her neighbor and friend, when he gave her a wave and a shy grin as he and his fellow competitors in the tournament’s high school division arrived for their portion of the event.  Sansa grinned back at once.  Jon had, after all, earned that and more from her for taking her to Casterly Rock’s Valentine’s Day ball three months prior when Harry Hardyng, her ex-boyfriend, had dumped her not two hours before the dance had begun.  Casterly Rock’s rumor mill had jumped into overdrive since then, even and especially among the girls Sansa had once considered her closest friends.  That had only widened the gap between them, which was largely rooted in Sansa’s involvement with the art department of the community theater program at Jon’s behest.  Jon, with his penchant for computers and all things the other girls considered nerdy as well as his family’s lack of money, belonged nowhere near Casterly Rock’s elite, and Sansa knew it.  Since Valentine’s Day, however, she’d cared about it less and less and instead had spent more and more of her time outside of school hours hanging out with Jon, Bran, their sister Arya, and Jon’s friends.  To her surprise, she’d found herself giggling over Jon’s puns and liking more than a few of the unpopular indie folk songs Jon and his group favored.  He might brood a lot, but he never gossiped, and neither he nor Arya nor any of their friends criticized Sansa’s fashion or makeup choices.  So when Sansa had had to choose between spending the second Saturday night of April attending her senior prom without Harry or playing games with Jon, Arya, and their friends, the choice had been easier than she’d thought.  She hadn’t understood all of the games everyone had brought to the Starks’ basement recreation room, but she’d still ended up having more fun than she’d had since she could remember.  It had even been worth the cutting remarks she’d gotten from her former friend Jeyne Poole and the odd looks and snide whispers she’d gotten from nearly everybody else.

Now Bran was beginning his semifinal match, and the tournament was reaching the end of its third hour.  Sansa yawned again and wished for the thousandth time that she had paid more attention to him or Jon when they’d explained the rules of chess to her over the past few weeks.  However, she simply could not keep track of all of the different pieces or in what direction each one of them was allowed to move.  All she could remember for certain was that players tried to capture as many of their opponents’ pieces as they could, but only won the game when they captured the opponent’s king.  Even that had confused Sansa, who had wondered why the ultimate objective of the game was not for a player to capture the opponent’s queen, which after all was the most powerful piece on the board since the player could move her any number of spaces in any direction when he used her.

Sansa yawned again just as Bran replaced one of his opponent’s pieces – a castle, she realized when she saw the telltale turret crowning the piece, although she could not for the life of her remember the more technically correct name that serious chess players called it – with one of his smaller pieces.  He set the castle neatly to the side of the board.

“Check,” he said in that quiet monotone that only Bran could produce, and that he only did produce when at his moments of greatest concentration.  The other player, a brown-eyed girl perhaps a year or two younger than Bran, scowled fiercely at him and relented only at a sharp look from her teacher.

“Bored already, are we, Stark?”  A snide voice right next to her left ear made Sansa jump out of her seat.  She threw out her arms just in time to keep from falling facedown on the floor, but the impact jarred both of her arms from wrist to shoulder, and she emitted a pained yelp.  Several moments passed before she managed to push herself back up to the chair, and she almost yelped again when she saw Mr. Mallister, her algebra teacher and one of the monitors for today’s tournament.

“Everything all right, Miss Stark?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  Sansa gulped and nodded, barely managing a hushed, “Sorry – yes, Mr. Mallister,” before Mr. Mallister’s turned to her right and raised his other eyebrow.

“And you, Mr. Greyjoy?” he inquired in a much sterner voice.  Sansa whirled in her seat just in time to catch a cat-eating grin on the face of Theon Greyjoy, the cause of her fall, who was now perched in the seat next to hers without a care in the world.

“Better than ever, Mr. Mallister,” he replied.  The teacher narrowed his eyes.

“See that it stays that way, Mr. Greyjoy,” he replied before walking off.  Sansa threw a dirty look at Theon, whose grin only widened.

“Can’t help it if you’re not paying attention to your own brother, Stark,” he drawled, keeping his voice low enough to avoid any further attention from the teachers.  He shook his head dramatically.  “Such a beautiful game.  Too bad such a beautiful girl isn’t interested in it.”  He wiggled one eyebrow suggestively at Sansa, who narrowed her eyes at him, and grabbed her hand.  Theon had been wiggling and winking and leering and otherwise trying to persuade her to go out with him ever since Harry had broken up with her.  Sansa, who had never forgotten how Theon had bullied Bran back in middle school and still loved pranking and shooting snide remarks at Jon, had tried everything from refusing him to ignoring him, but Theon, as always, was annoyingly persistent.

Sansa pushed Theon’s hand away.  “I’m still not interested in you, either, Greyjoy,” she muttered now, “so, for the millionth time, shove off.”

Theon only winked at her.  “Sure, you’re not, Stark,” he smirked.  Sansa opened her mouth to spit a retort at him, but she caught sight of Mr. Mallister a few yards away, bit her tongue, and rose as quietly as she could to move to the chair furthest on the row from Theon.

“Check,” said Bran again, and Sansa grinned as her brother plucked yet another of his opponent’s pieces off the board.  She glared again, but Bran, as usual, did not so much as blink.  The teacher monitoring their match reset the timer to begin the next turn.  Not many pieces remained on the board, Sansa noticed, and of those that were left, most belonged to Bran.  Her grin widened.

Not long afterward, Bran called “Checkmate.”  Once their monitor had verified it, Sansa and the remainder of the audience applauded.  Bran held out his hand to his opponent, who scowled but shook it nonetheless.

“See you next year, Stark,” she declared, sounding more like a queen giving an order than an opponent newly defeated.  One corner of Bran’s mouth quirked upward.

“Next year, Mormont,” he agreed, his tone as placid as ever, and the girl released his hand and stalked off.  Bran rose and joined his teammates as they formed a line to file out of the room so the high school division could hold its final match.  Sansa grinned and gave him a thumbs-up, a gesture she would never have used two months prior.  That got both corners of Bran’s mouth to twitch, and Sansa decided not to be sorry for having to wake up at 7:30 AM.

No sooner had Bran disappeared through the door than the high schoolers traipsed into the room.  Jon shuffled in at the end of the line, his ever-present blue pencil tucked behind his ear amidst his riot of brown curls.  Sansa flashed him a smile, but Jon was focused too deeply on the chess board in front of him to notice.

“Awwww.”  Theon had transplanted himself next to Sansa once again.  “Lovers’ quarrel, Stark?  Boyfriend ignoring you?”

Sansa rolled her eyes.  “In case you hadn’t heard, Greyjoy, I don’t have a boyfriend,” she hissed.  “Not that I’d consider you as an option if you were the last person on earth.”

Theon only grinned.  “Keep telling yourself that, Stark,” he said and reached into his pocket.  He fished out a wadded-up scrap of paper and tossed it in Jon’s direction.  It hit Jon straight on the back of the head.  He jumped in his seat and glanced sharply around the room for the source of the interruption.  That earned him a concerned look from Sam Tarly, his best friend and chess teammate, and earned Theon the very dirtiest look Sansa could muster.  Theon only grinned more broadly.  Sansa only wished she could drag him outside and curse him volubly instead of silently.  Focus, Jon and Bran had both told her, was the chess player’s bread and butter, and losing it usually meant losing the match.

No sooner had Jon adjusted his pencil behind his ear and sat down to face his opponent, a petite brunette girl from Vale Academy, than Theon lobbed another paper missile at him.  This one struck Jon on the shoulder, and again he started in his seat and hastily glanced about him.  So did the teacher assigned to monitor the match, and Theon lost his grin and sat straight up in his seat at once.

“Do that again,” Sansa hissed at him when the teacher had started the timer to begin the match, “and I’ll report you to Mallister.”

Theon stuck out his lower lip.  “And stop the match right in the middle of poor Lover Boy’s turn?” he mocked.  Sansa glared at him.  Theon smirked back, but Sansa did not move her eyes.  Perhaps if she watched him for the duration of the match, he would not risk disrupting Jon again.  It was a faint hope, but better than none.

Or not, Sansa realized five minutes later, when Theon scooted his chair far enough for it to collide with the empty one next to it.  The resulting clanging noise startled both Jon and his opponent and earned both Theon and Sansa a pointed stare from Mr. Mallister.  Sansa’s face flushed.  She folded her hands in her lap and lowered her head.  

After a few moments, the match resumed.  Jon’s opponent promptly moved one of his pieces off the board – it was a castle again, Sansa noticed – and Jon grimaced and shook his head.  So did Sansa.  Damn Theon anyway, she thought.  If he had not broken Jon’s concentration during the previous turn, Jon might have made a different move and not lost his castle.

Screw you, Greyjoy, she spat to herself.  Only when she sensed Theon turning to grin at her did she realize she had muttered it loud enough for her to hear.

“Why, I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Stark,” he whispered.  When Sansa clenched her jaw to keep from snapping back at him, he continued.  “At least part of it.  Maybe a little kiss?  With a little tongue?  A little bite?  No?  Maybe you do want Lover Boy to be your lover, huh?”  Sansa only clenched her jaw more tightly in response, and Theon slouched back against his chair and shrugged.

“Too bad, Stark,” he muttered.  “You’re missing out.  Lover Boy has no talent with his tongue.  You’d like mine a lot better…along with a few other things.”  He swiveled his hips suggestively, but just then Mr. Mallister turned back to face them, and Sansa had to bite back the retort on the tip of her tongue.  Instead, she sighed deeply and stared straight at the table in the middle of the room, where Jon’s opponent was frowning deeply at the chessboard.  She moved one of her castle pieces just as the buzzer sounded to signal the end of her turn.

Jon, now staring fiercely at the board, reached back to adjust the pencil behind his ear, as was his wont when deep in thought.  He raised his hand as if to grab one of his pieces, but then withdrew it and went back to staring.  He reached back up, and his hand was almost touching his pencil when yet another of Theon’s projectiles smacked him on the elbow.  Jon started and bit his lip, and Sansa could almost hear him cursing its source.  The teacher next to them rotated a pointed stare from one end of the audience chairs to the other, but it was clear that she could not tell who had disrupted Jon, and Mr. Mallister was consulting with the scorekeepers in the far corner of the room.  Sansa bit her lip as Jon frowned back at the board, trying to regain his focus, and finally selected another piece to move.

She bit it harder during the next turn, when Jon’s opponent promptly captured another of his larger pieces.  This one had a rounded top.  Sansa thought it was called a priest, or perhaps a pope.  Either way, it was an important piece, and Jon had just lost it.  Worse still, the girl smiled thinly and announced, “Check.”

Jon’s face fell, and his frustration sent a blinding wave of anger through Sansa’s gut.  Jon, who had taken the blame for the fight Theon had instigated with Sansa after bullying Bran in order to protect Sansa from the consequences; Jon, whose mother, Lyanna, was not well off like the rest of Casterly Rock’s parents and could sorely use the prize money from today’s tournament, even if neither of them would admit it; Jon, who had taken Sansa to the Valentine’s Day ball when Harry had ditched her, even though he hated dancing – Jon had deserved to have Sansa set things to rights for him long ago, and now was a late and uncomfortable time for her to start, but start and finish it she would.  She drew a deep breath and turned to Theon, who was shifting in his chair next to her.  One look at the satisfied grin on his face hardened her determination and brought a devilish smile to her own, and she turned to raise her lips to a startled Theon’s ear.

“Maybe I don’t want him to be my boyfriend,” she whispered.  “Maybe I’d rather try something…different.”  She ran one finger slowly up Theon’s arm until she felt the blush coming on, and Theon’s eyes widened.  This time it was Sansa’s turn to wink at him.

“That is, if the invitation’s still open,” she whispered, her lips nearly touching his ear.  She forced herself not to cringe.  Theon’s cat-eating grin returned, and Sansa removed her hand from his arm at once.

“Might be,” muttered Theon and leaned over to reach an arm around Sansa’s shoulders until his hand was resting on her ribs, too close to Sansa’s chest for her liking.  His other hand cupped Sansa’s leg just above her knee.  Sansa pasted another sweet smile on her face.

“Maybe we should start planning our first date,” she murmured, emphasizing the last word.  “Maybe for tomorrow, hmm?  Not in such a boring place, though.  Maybe the hallway instead?”  She raised an eyebrow, and Theon’s grin widened.  

“After you, my lady,” he said, lifting his hand from Sansa’s knee.  She sighed with relief and moved silently from chair to chair until she reached the end of the row and tiptoed to the door.

Once they were out in the hallway, Theon grabbed Sansa’s hand with one of his own.  He used his other hand to maneuver her back against the wall and moved to slant his mouth across hers.  Sansa turned her head away just in time, pivoted on her heels, and used her momentum to push a startled Theon into the closest corner.  She drew back her leg and shoved her knee straight into Theon’s crotch.  He doubled over and collapsed on the floor at once, and his mouth fell open, but instead of a howl of pain, it emitted only deep, wheezing gasps.

“Don’t do that to Jon again,” she said, her voice shaking.  “Don’t go near Jon again.  And don’t come near me again, either.  Come to think of it, don’t go near anyone in my family again.”

By the end of her speech, her voice had steadied, and so had her gait.  She whirled around and marched back into the community room with her chin firmly in the air.

Just as Sansa swept through the door, the middle school students filed through the door at the opposite end of the room.  The teachers were resetting the timer and chessboard, and Jon was shuffling off to the audience area with the rest of his high school classmates.  Sansa darted across a row of chairs to reach them.

“Jon!” she exclaimed, and he whirled around so quickly that the pencil fell from behind his ear.  Sansa bent to pick it up.

“Sorry,” she said as she handed it to him, and Jon shrugged.

“No problem,” he said as he pushed the pencil back into its place.  Neither of them said anything for a long moment until Jon, who looked more dour than usual, asked, “Will Gilly have anyone else to help her with the setup tomorrow?  For the play?”

Sansa blinked until she remembered the community theater’s spring play, for which she had done most of the artwork and costume design.

“She’ll have me,” she replied.  Jon stared at her, confused.

“But you’re going on a date with Theon,” he said.  Sansa gaped at him in disbelief.

“No, I’m not!” she exclaimed.  “Why in the name of anything halfway decent would I go on a date with that sleazeball?”

The furrows deepened on Jon’s forehead.  “But I heard you,” he said.  “During the match, I mean.”

Heat flooded Sansa’s face.  If Jon had been able to hear that much, had he caught the rest of their conversation?  At that rate, it was a wonder he had been able to concentrate on his match at all.

“I – I – ”  Sansa cleared her throat.  She opened her mouth once, twice, and three times before she could get any words out.

“I said that so I could get him out of the room,” she said at last, “and stop him from distracting you.  And don’t worry; he knows now that I wouldn’t touch him with a twenty-foot pole.  And – oh, I’m sorry!  How did the match go?”

All of the dourness had melted off Jon’s face as Sansa had spoken, and a full smile had replaced it.

“I won,” he said, shrugging.  Sam Tarly, standing just behind Jon, rolled his eyes.

“Of course he won,” he said.  “He always does.”  

Jon was in the middle of rolling his eyes right back at his friend when Sansa, relieved beyond measure, threw her arms around him.

“Congratulations!” she squealed, much more loudly than she had intended.  Jon stood stock still for a moment, but moved both arms to rest tentatively on her back at the same moment someone cleared his throat right in front of them.  Sansa and Jon broke apart to see Mr. Mallister glaring at them both.  They murmured hasty apologies and fell into the seats immediately behind him.  Jon’s face was still red when he turned to Sansa again, reaching up to adjust his pencil as he did so.

“So – well – if you’re not doing anything with Theon – or anyone else,” he said, “do you want to go to Hot Pie’s for dinner before the play tomorrow?  Sam and Gilly can’t make it, but I figured – if you still wanted to do it, like before…”

Sansa smiled.  Gilly, the other costume designer and a senior at Winterfell High School, had joined her, Jon, and Sam for dinner on the opening night of every community theater production on which they had worked over the past two years.  Harry had been furious when Sansa had kept up that tradition with last fall’s production of Romeo and Juliet rather than going to his cross-country practice.

“Of course,” she said at once.  Then the rest of Jon’s words sank in.  

“Wait, Sam and Gilly can’t come?”

Jon shook his head.  “No,” he said quietly.  His gaze darted to the floor before reaching back up to meet Sansa’s.  “I mean, if you don’t want to if it’s just us, that’s fine.  We can pick another night for all four of us.  I just thought if you still wanted to do opening night – well, we should.”

Sansa could only blink.  She could just imagine what the gossip mill would grind out once she had been seen going out alone with Jon Snow –

Then she grinned at him.  “I think we should, too,” she replied, and Jon’s face lit up as Sansa had never seen it do before, not even when he had opened the first package of blue pencils she had given him as his secret admirer so long ago.  “What time?”

“The usual – five?” Jon offered, and Sansa nodded at once.  Jon turned in his seat to face her.

“Thanks for getting Theon out of my hair, by the way,” he said.  “If you hadn’t – ”

Sansa shook her head.  “You’d still have won,” she said.  “You’re the best chess player I’ve met.  And sort of the best neighbor.  And you deserved it.”  She turned in her own seat to face him.  “You more than deserved it, Jon Snow.”

Jon’s grin softened.  “Well,” he replied, “you’re sort of the best artist I’ve met.  And probably the best dancer.  And the best Theon-fighter.”

Sansa giggled.  “Theon-fighter?”

Jon shrugged.  “It’s a skill few people have,” he said dryly, and Sansa laughed again.  “So of course, you deserve it too.  That is, whatever you want at Hot Pie’s.”

Sansa gave him a pointed look.  “You know what you’re setting yourself up for when you say that,” she said, and Jon’s grin widened again.  Sansa had always ordered Hot Pie’s Triple Banana Split for dessert after their prior dinners with Sam and Gilly, largely because Harry would give her an odd look on their dates if she ever ordered dessert.  Sam and Gilly would usually have a bite or two each, leaving Jon and Sansa to devour the rest.

“Deal,” Jon said, and held out his hand.  Sansa shook it, and, as she did, shifted in her chair so she could watch Bran take his next turn at the chessboard.  She lost her balance and would have fallen had Jon not reached his arm out to steady her.

“Thanks,” Sansa murmured.  She should have let go of Jon’s arm, but it felt so warm and alive and comforting against her own that she kept it wound around his.  Jon held his arm up as if waiting for her to let go, but when she did not, he looked at her with the same warm, lopsided grin he’d given her the night they’d danced together at the Valentine’s Day ball – when they’d agreed to be friends and fellow weirdos, as Sansa had put it – except that it was softer, and his eyes were brighter, and his shoulder was bumping up comfortably against hers.  Sansa could not hold back another giggle before she leaned her head to rest against it.  As she did so, she felt the blue pencil dislodge from behind Jon’s ear and clatter to the floor behind them.

“Oh – I’m sorry!” she exclaimed.  She began to get up, but Jon shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he said.  “I’ll get it later.”

Sansa shot him an incredulous look, but Jon only gave her that soft, silly grin again, and she nestled back against him at once.

“Deal,” she murmured.  She gave him a grin loopier than his own.  She supposed she should have been embarrassed, and she supposed she should care about the rumors and whispers the school’s gossip mill would churn out on Monday, and what Harry would say, and what Jeyne would say, but when Jon smiled back, not just his eyes but the entire room lit up, and Sansa stopped caring at all.

And so it was that neither one of them heard Bran calling, “Checkmate.”

[junker-town]

The best team to never win an NBA title? You chose the 1997 Utah Jazz

Photo by Glenn James/NBAE via Getty Images

We asked for your help in picking one NBA non-champion to rule them all. You chose the 1996-97 Utah Jazz.

SB Nation’s two-week journey to find the best NBA team to fall short of a championship is now over. Your winner: the 1996-97 Utah Jazz, the first of two Utah teams to fall short to Michael Jordan’s Bulls in the NBA Finals. Congratulations, John Stockton and Karl Malone. You (kinda) have a ring now! We’re sure you feel so much better now!

Here’s how the Jazz ended up winning this competition.

In mid-April, we began our quest to uncover the best NBA team to never win a title. We laid out some critical ground rules — one team per era, and teams that won a title in the same era were not permitted to enter. We came up with 64 teams in NBA history and split them into four different “divisions,” each classifying (to the best of our ability) the way in which they fell short.

If you missed that, take some time to check it out by clicking on these links. They’ll answer most questions you have about why your favorite historical team was or wasn’t involved in this exercise.

Then, we asked each of our NBA sites to nominate one team in their franchise’s history to represent them in a winner-take-all tournament. I (Mike) added back the two highest-ranked East teams not chosen to get us to 32 teams, then re-seeded them into a West and East bracket.

Throughout the week, we asked you to vote on each matchup through SB Nation FanPulse. The FanPulse choice won the matchup unless it contracted BOTH my (Mike’s) expert pick and a seven-game series simulation we ran on WhatifSports.com. (That happened three times, all in the second round).

That gave us a Titleless NBA “Finals” of the West “champion” Jazz and the East “champion” 1994-95 Orlando Magic, fronted by the Young Shaq/Penny duo. We then ran one final FanPulse survey to determine the ultimate champion, and the Jazz won in a landslide.

Here’s how the bracket shook out:

THE FINALS

(W1) 1996-97 Utah Jazz def (E1) 1994-95 Orlando Magic

FANPULSE VOTE: Jazz (65 percent)

Unlike with the rest of the tournament, the power to award a final champion was left entirely to you. No expert pick. No simulation. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. The Jazz were the clear winner in the FanPulse vote, and they a) would’ve been my pick as well, and b) actually won when I simulated for the heck of it.

This excellent SB Nation video is now wrong! Well, sorta. Still, you should watch it.

WEST FINALS

(1) 1996-97 Utah Jazz def (2) 2001-02 Sacramento Kings

FANPULSE VOTE: Jazz (54.6 percent) EXPERT PICK: Kings in 6 SIMULATION: Jazz in 5

These two teams actually squared off in multiple real playoff matchups. Most notably, they staged a memorable five-game series in 1999, eventually won by Utah. The Jazz were closer to their best selves then than the Kings would be, so I figured a full-strength Kings team would knock even the best Utah team off. (On the flip side, Sacramento had trouble disposing of ancient Jazz teams in the 2002 and 2003 postseason).

The simulation, however, favored Utah. Karl Malone averaged 28 and 12 and the Jazz coasted after taking a 3-0 lead.

The FanPulse vote between these two favorites was tight. At one point, Utah’s margin was just 70 votes. In the end, the Jazz held on and denied the Kings team its moment of glory — this time fair and square.

EAST FINALS

(1) 1994-95 Orlando Magic def (2) 2018-19 Milwaukee Bucks

FANPULSE VOTE: Magic (70.8 percent) EXPERT PICK: Bucks in 6 SIMULATION: Magic in 5

Another expert pick foiled! Even though I handed the Magic the No. 1 seed, I think they’ve become a bit overrated in time. I thought the Bucks could defend Shaquille O’Neal more effectively than Shaq could defend in space. But the simulation disagreed, as Shaq put up monster numbers in a five-game victory.

In time, I think the 2018-19 Bucks will be remembered more fondly than even the Shaq/Penny Magic. But nostalgia won the day this round.

WEST SEMIFINALS

(1) 1996-97 Utah Jazz def (5) 2017-18 Houston Rockets

FANPULSE VOTE: Jazz (78.1 percent) EXPERT PICK: Rockets in 7 SIMULATION: Jazz in 5

The public’s animosity for James Harden goes deeper than I expected. Houston beat the 90s Sonics last round in spite of the fan vote and then took the widest defeat of this round.

I liked this matchup for them because they have more options to handle Karl Malone than the Jazz do to stop James Harden. But the simulation vehemently disagreed, giving Utah the series in five games. The first two were tight, with Utah winning by five in Game 1 and then surviving Game 2 after a Byron Russell three-pointer sent the game into overtime. But the Jazz handled the Rockets in Game 3 in Houston and then blew them out by 31 in the Game 5 clincher.

(2) 2001-02 Sacramento Kings vs. (6) 1990-91 Portland Trail Blazers

FANPULSE VOTE: Kings (53.7 percent) EXPERT PICK: Kings in 7 SIMULATION: Blazers 5

This was the most even matchup in the tournament and almost ... almost ... went the other way. I had no clue how to separate the two great Rick Adelman-coached teams that seemed like mirror images of each other, so I went with the home court and picked Sacramento. The simulation went the other way: Portland stole Game 1 on a Clyde Drexler three with 19 seconds left and crushed the Kings the rest of the way.

That put the onus on the FanPulse survey, which the Kings won by 101 votes.

EAST SEMIFINALS

(1) 1994-95 Orlando Magic def (5) 1981-82 Philadelphia 76ers

FANPULSE VOTE: Magic (66.6 percent) EXPERT PICK: 76ers in 6 SIMULATION: Magic in 7

I didn’t like this matchup for the Magic. They have nobody to guard Julius Erving, unless Horace Grant played the series of his life. Meanwhile, I figured Caldwell Jones and Maurice Cheeks could bug Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway. That’s why I went with Philly. I figured the FanPulse vote would favor the more recent team, which it did. So it came down to the simulation.

The simulation spit out a hell of a series. Philly stole Game 1 in Orlando, outscoring the Magic by nine in the fourth quarter. The Magic won the next three to go up 3-1, overcoming a 16-point halftime deficit to swipe Game 4. Philly then won an ugly Game 5, then got 34 points from Andrew Toney to take Game 6 and tie the series. Game 7 was close, but Shaq (37 and 17) outplayed the Doctor (14 points on just 6-16 from the field) in Orlando’s nine-point victory. Erving surprisingly had a pedestrian series, never going above 30 points in any of the games.

(2) 2018-19 Milwaukee Bucks def (3) 2010-11 Chicago Bulls

FANPULSE VOTE: Bucks (57.4 percent) EXPERT PICK: Bucks in 5 SIMULATION: Bucks in 4

Chicago’s simulation magic — the Bulls were 8-0 in simulated games to this point — ended with a giant thud. Giannis Antetokounmpo dominated the series, averaging nearly 28 points, 13 rebounds, and six assists a game while adding more than two steals and two blocks per contest. I also thought this was a brutal matchup for Chicago, and the FanPulse vote added insult to injury for Bulls fans.

WEST QUARTERFINALS

(1) 1996-97 Utah Jazz def (8) 2004-05 Phoenix Suns

FANPULSE VOTE: Jazz (69.2 percent) EXPERT PICK: Jazz in 7 SIMULATION: Jazz in 4

This felt like a titanic second-round matchup, and I agonized over my choice. In the end, I went with Utah because I figured the Jazz would roll out a smaller lineup to match up with the Suns and that Karl Malone would dominate inside.

I was stunned that the simulation result was so lopsided. Malone was fine, but the real key was that John Stockton (15 points per game, 11.75 assists per game) dramatically outplayed Steve Nash (12.25 PPG, 7.75 APG).

I was also surprised to see Utah win the fan vote so dramatically. Where was the Seven Seconds Or Less lobby??

(5) 2017-18 Houston Rockets def. (4) 1993-94 Seattle Supersonics

FANPULSE VOTE: Supersonics (65.5 percent) EXPERT PICK: Rockets in 6 SIMULATION: Rockets in 6

Oh boy, it’s our first overturned result of the tournament! Let’s walk through how that happened.

I couldn’t decide if this was the best or worst possible matchup for the Rockets’ isolation style. On the one hand, how would James Harden and Chris Paul deal with the Sonics’ constant full-court pressure? Nobody defended them that way in 2018, so maybe they’d be thrown off. On the other hand, Houston was a low-turnover team and Seattle badly needed to force turnovers to play its style. After deliberating for a while, I decided in favor of the latter instinct and gave Houston the win.

The simulation played out in a similar fashion. The Sonics routed the Rockets in Game 1, holding them to 77 points, 33 percent shooting while pounding them on the glass. But Houston got itself together and won four of the next five, all by double digits. It was a feast or famine series.

That meant the collective support for the Sonics was overturned. Sorry, friends.

(6) 1990-91 Portland Trail Blazers def. (3) 2011-12 Oklahoma City Thunder

FANPULSE VOTE: Blazers (60 percent) EXPERT PICK: Blazers in 6 SIMULATION: Thunder in 7

This is the most surprising result of the tournament so far.

I thought Portland was a bad matchup for the Thunder, since they had Jerome Kersey to body Kevin Durant, Terry Porter to take advantage of Russell Westbrook’s roaming, and a deep bench to account for James Harden. That’s why I picked Portland to win.

The simulation nearly agreed, but the Thunder rallied from 3-1 down to win the series. Durant carried them to victory, dropping a 39-point, six-rebound, five-assist, four-block, four-steal line in Game 6 and a 30-6-8-4 line in Game 7.

I figured recent Thunder love would carry OKC to victory in the fan vote, but boy was I wrong. I didn’t know the Blazers had so many admirers.

(2) 2001-02 Sacramento Kings def (10) 1963-64 San Francisco Warriors

FANPULSE VOTE: Kings (74.3 percent) EXPERT PICK: Kings in 5 SIMULATION: Kings in 6

No surprise here, though I would like to note that Wilt Chamberlain averaged 38 points and 22.5 rebounds per game in the simulation.

EAST QUARTERFINALS

(1) 1994-95 Orlando Magic def (8) 2009-10 Orlando Magic

FANPULSE VOTE: ‘95 Magic (91.3 percent) EXPERT PICK: ‘95 Magic in 6 SIMULATION: ‘95 Magic in 4

A number of folks (here’s one example) compared the 2010 Magic to the 1995 Houston team that swept the Shaq/Penny Magic in the Finals. I saw the logic, but ended up going the other way because Dwight Howard, even in 2010, wasn’t as skilled as Hakeem Olajuwon. The lopsided simulation and fan vote results seem to justify that decision.

(5) 1981-82 Philadelphia 76ers def (4) 1992-93 New York Knicks

FANPULSE VOTE: Knicks (56.9 percent) EXPERT PICK: 76ers in 6 SIMULATION: 76ers in 5

Another fan vote overturned!

This one, though, is more justified in my mind. I trusted Philly’s ability to hold Patrick Ewing down more than the Knicks’ ability to stop Julius Erving. The simulation agreed, with the 76ers winning the next four games after losing Game 1. The final four minutes of Game 2 are hilarious and on-brand. Philly won despite not hitting a field goal in the final four minutes.

The fan vote went New York’s way, but I attribute that to overrating teams from the 90s. The 76ers were better.

(3) 2010-11 Chicago Bulls def (6) 1997-98 Indiana Pacers

FANPULSE VOTE: Pacers (66.9 percent) EXPERT PICK: Bulls in 6 SIMULATION: Bulls in 4

A third fan vote overturned! And this one might be the most painful.

I thought this was an awful matchup for the Pacers. They have nobody to stop Derrick Rose, whereas the Bulls have elite defenders (Luol Deng and Joakim Noah) to chase Reggie Miller and out-run Rik Smits. Plus, Indiana’s frontcourt might wasn’t much of an advantage against the Bulls’ tenacious group. That’s why I picked Chicago. The simulation emphatically agreed. (In fact, the Bulls are now 8-0 in the simulation.

Sorry, Pacers fans. Tormented by the Bulls again.

(2) 2018-19 Milwaukee Bucks def (10) 1996-97 Miami Heat

FANPULSE VOTE: Bucks (68.8 percent) EXPERT PICK: Bucks in 7 SIMULATION: Bucks in 4

I thought Miami’s defense might make life tough for Giannis Antetokounmpo, but the simulation and the fans disagreed.

WEST 1ST ROUND

(1) 1996-97 Utah Jazz def (16) 2014-15 Memphis Grizzlies

FANPULSE VOTE: Jazz (90.3 percent) EXPERT PICK: Jazz in 5 SIMULATION: Jazz in 6

This one was fairly straightforward. The Jazz took a 3-0 lead in the simulation before blowing Game 5 at home in overtime, but finished things off in Game 6. Karl Malone averaged nearly 30 points and 11.5 rebounds in the series.

(8) 2004-05 Phoenix Suns def (9) 1997-98 Los Angeles Lakers

FANPULSE VOTE: Suns (84.7 percent) EXPERT PICK: Suns in 7 SIMULATION: Suns in 7

I was stunned that the fan vote was so lopsided, because this was the toughest matchup on the board for me. Nobody on the Suns had any chance of stopping Shaquille O’Neal inside, yet the Lakers are particularly ill-suited to guarding the Steve Nash/Amar’e Stoudemire pick-and-roll. I figured this would go seven high-scoring games with all stars putting up outrageous numbers, and ultimately went with the home court in my decison.

That’s essentially how it played out in the simulation too. The home team won all seven games, and Phoenix slipped by in Game 7 despite 37 points and 17 rebounds from Shaquille O’Neal

(5) 2017-18 Houston Rockets def (12) 2003-04 Minnesota Timberwolves

FANPULSE VOTE: Rockets (54.5 percent) EXPERT PICK: Rockets in 6 SIMULATION: Rockets in 5

It’s a testament to the Minnesota voting body that the FanPulse margin was so close. I thought the series would be somewhat tight, but Houston had the edge. The simulation agreed, though the margin was closer than the number of games suggested. The Timberwolves stole Game 2 in Houston and only lost Game 4 on a Chris Paul buzzer beater. Kevin Garnett’s series averages: 28.2 points, 15 rebounds, 6.4 assists. Jesus.

(4) 1993-94 Seattle Supersonics def (13) 1994-95 San Antonio Spurs

FANPULSE VOTE: Sonics (86.5 percent) EXPERT PICK: Sonics in 7 SIMULATION: Sonics in 5

I figured this series would be tight because the Spurs often played Seattle tough during this era, but the voters and the simulation disagreed.

(6) 1990-91 Portland Trail Blazers def (11) 2013-14 Los Angeles Clippers

FANPULSE VOTE: Trail Blazers (66.5 percent) EXPERT PICK: Trail Blazers in 6 SIMULATION: Clippers in 7

It’s too bad the simulation didn’t come into play, because this was a wild series. After struggling in the first five games, Blake Griffin dominated Games 6 and 7. He dropped 40, nine, and three in a Game 6 home loss, then notched 37, 13, and three blocks in a 102-99 Game 7 win. Alas, I picked Portland, as did the voters.

(3) 2011-12 Oklahoma City Thunder def (14) 2007-08 New Orleans Hornets

FANPULSE VOTE: Thunder (70.2 percent) EXPERT PICK: Thunder in 6 SIMULATION: Thunder in 7

This was the simulation series of the first round. It went the distance, with Chris Paul dominating and none of the Thunder Big 3 having consistent series. The Hornets led Game 7 by one point with six seconds left, but Kevin Durant nailed a runner with six seconds left to give OKC the lead. New Orleans’ last chance ended when David West got swatted by Serge Ibaka, and OKC held on.

(10) 1963-64 San Francisco Warriors def (7) 2006-07 Dallas Mavericks

FANPULSE VOTE: Warriors (55 percent) EXPERT PICK: Warriors in 6 SIMULATION: Mavs in 6

Fitting that the 2007 Mavericks choked against the Warriors in the first round.

(2) 2001-02 Sacramento Kings vs. (15) 1984-85 Denver Nuggets

FANPULSE VOTE: Kings (89 percent) EXPERT PICK: Kings in 4 SIMULATION: Kings in 6

No surprises here.

EAST 1ST ROUND

(1) 1994-95 Orlando Magic def (16) 2001-02 Boston Celtics

FANPULSE VOTE: Magic (91.8 percent) EXPERT PICK: Magic in 4 SIMULATION: Magic in 5

The classic 1 vs. 16 curb stomping.

(8) 2009-10 Orlando Magic def (9) 2008-09 Cleveland Cavaliers

FANPULSE VOTE: Magic (52 percent) EXPERT PICK: Magic in 6 SIMULATION: Cavs in 7

This was my favorite matchup because it closely mirrored an actual playoff series, won by the Magic in six games. Because so many consider the 2010 Magic the better of the two great Stan Van Gundy teams, and because I consider the 2009 Cavs a better team than the 2010 edition, my pick of Orlando in six was simple. The simulation, though, spit out something remarkable: LeBron James leading Cleveland back from a 3-0 deficit to win in 7 while scoring 47 points on the road in the Game 7 clincher. Who’s the GOAT now?

That meant the result came down to the closest FanPulse vote of the first round. Cleveland made a late charge, but it wasn’t quite enough.

(5) 1981-82 Philadelphia 76ers def (12) 2002-03 New Jersey Nets

FANPULSE VOTE: 76ers (67.1 percent) EXPERT PICK: 76ers in 7 SIMULATION: 76ers in 6

Another straightforward result, though the Nets do seem to have a few bodies they could throw at Julius Erving.

(4) 1992-93 New York Knicks def (13) 2017-18 Toronto Raptors

FANPULSE VOTE: Knicks (86.4 percent) EXPERT PICK: Knicks in 7 SIMULATION: Raptors in 6

The simulation really likes this Raptors team. I actually simulated this matchup a few weeks before just for S’s and G’s, and the Raptors won it then, too. The FanPulse voters see it differently.

(6) 1997-98 Indiana Pacers def (11) 2014-15 Atlanta Hawks

FANPULSE VOTE: Pacers (82.4 percent) EXPERT PICK: Pacers in 6 SIMULATION: Hawks in 7

More wonky simulation results! Indiana took a 3-1 lead after waxing the Hawks in Atlanta in Game 4, then blew the next three games as Reggie Miller went silent. It ended up not mattering, though.

(3) 2010-11 Chicago Bulls def (14) 1968-69 Washington Bullets

FANPULSE VOTE: Bulls (75.5 percent) EXPERT PICK: Bullets in 6 SIMULATION: Bulls in 4

Did I maybe make a bit of a homer pick in calling an upset? Probably, but I also didn’t think Chicago would have enough firepower to match Earl Monroe, Gus Johnson, Kevin Loughery, Wes Unseld, and Jack Marin. FanPulse voters disagreed, and the simulation results dunked violently on me.

(10) 1996-97 Miami Heat def (7) 1985-86 Milwaukee Bucks

FANPULSE VOTE: Heat (58.8 percent) EXPERT PICK: Bucks in 5 SIMULATION: Heat in 7

I’m gonna attribute this result to recency bias, because those 80s Bucks teams were vicious and never get their due. In my mind, they were a clear favorite and a possible sleeper in this tournament. But the FanPulse voters disagreed, and they clinched their wish when Miami rallied from a 3-1 deficit to win the simulation series. Thank Tim Hardaway for that — he averaged 25 a game in the series, including 35 in the Game 7 clincher.

(2) 2018-19 Milwaukee Bucks. def (15) 1996-97 Detroit Pistons

FANPULSE VOTE: Bucks (70.5 percent) EXPERT PICK: Bucks in 4 SIMULATION: Bucks in 6

The simulation had this as a 2-2 series after four games before normalcy returned. I’m not sure why it holds those Pistons in such high regard, but at least it got the right result in the end.

The teams chose for the final tournament

We asked each of our 30 SB Nation NBA team communities to select just one team from the original list of 64 to be their franchise’s representative in this final tournament of non-champions. (Note: Seattle was considered its own franchise, and Charlotte had no team to nominate.)

Here are the years they chose:

ATLANTA HAWKS: 2014-15

BOSTON CELTICS: 2001-02

CHICAGO BULLS: 2010-11

CLEVELAND CAVALIERS: 2008-09

DALLAS MAVERICKS: 2006-07

DENVER NUGGETS: 1984-85

DETROIT PISTONS: 1996-97

GOLDEN STATE WARRIORS: 1963-64

HOUSTON ROCKETS: 2017-18

INDIANA PACERS: 1997-98

LOS ANGELES CLIPPERS: 2013-14

LOS ANGELES LAKERS: 1997-98

MEMPHIS GRIZZLIES: 2014-15

MIAMI HEAT: 1996-97

MILWAUKEE BUCKS: 2018-19

MINNESOTA TIMBERWOLVES: 2003-04

NEW JERSEY NETS: 2002-03

NEW ORLEANS HORNETS: 2007-08

NEW YORK KNICKS: 1992-93

OKLAHOMA CITY THUNDER: 2011-12

ORLANDO MAGIC: 1994-95

PHILADELPHIA 76ERS: 1981-82

PHOENIX SUNS: 2004-05

PORTLAND TRAIL BLAZERS: 1990-91

SACRAMENTO KINGS: 2001-02

SAN ANTONIO SPURS: 1994-95

SEATTLE SUPERSONICS: 1993-94

TORONTO RAPTORS: 2017-18

UTAH JAZZ: 1996-97

WASHINGTON WIZARDS/BULLETS: 1968-69

To get to an even 16 in the East, I chose the two highest-ranked remaining clubs from that conference. They were:

2009-10 Orlando Magic. (I had 2008-09 originally from the Dwight/Stan Van Gundy era, but our Magic site and J.J. Redick himself convinced me the 2009-10 team was better.)

1985-86 Milwaukee Bucks. (Sidney Moncrief era)

Then, I re-seeded each remaining team in each conference.

Who did our team sites leave out?

There were 32 teams that I originally highlighted that did not qualify for the final tournament because our team sites picked another era in franchise history to represent them. You can read all about these 32 teams (and the 32 ultimately chosen) in these links:

In rough order of best to worst, they are:

2015-16 Oklahoma City Thunder

1992-93 Phoenix Suns

1961-62 Los Angeles Lakers

1999-00 Portland Trail Blazers

2003-04 Indiana Pacers

2015-16 San Antonio Spurs

2000-01 Philadelphia 76ers

2012-13 Indiana Pacers

1975-76 Denver Nuggets

1985-86 Houston Rockets

1963-64 Cincinnati Royals

1989-90 Phoenix Suns

2007-08 Houston Rockets

1987-88 Dallas Mavericks

1988-89 Cleveland Cavaliers

1976-77 Los Angeles Lakers

1946-47 Washington Capitols

1986-87 Atlanta Hawks

1996-97 Houston Rockets

2008-09 Denver Nuggets

1971-72 Chicago Bulls

2018-19 Philadelphia 76ers

2012-13 Golden State Warriors

2012-13 Denver Nuggets

2008-09 Portland Trail Blazers

1982-83 San Antonio Spurs

1996-97 Atlanta Hawks

2017-18 Boston Celtics

2013-14 Portland Trail Blazers

2000-01 Milwaukee Bucks

1975-76 Phoenix Suns

1990-91 Golden State Warriors

You can read more about those teams in these links:

A final reminder: these teams were ineligible for TITLELESS

Since we got a lot of question about them:

Because they won a title in a different year during the era:

The 73-win Warriors from 2016.

Any team from LeBron James’ Heat career or second tenure in Cleveland.

Any of Magic Johnson’s Lakers

Any of Larry Bird’s Celtics

Any of Michael Jordan’s Bulls

Any of Isiah Thomas’ Pistons.

Any Spurs team from 1997-2015.

The 2000s Pistons.

1978 Blazers.

2005 Heat

Because only one team per era was eligible:

1996 Sonics

1998 Jazz

1994, 1997, and 1999 Knicks

2012 Bulls

1992 Cavaliers

2006 Mavericks

1996 Magic

1977, 1980, and 1981 76ers

2007 and 2010 Suns

1990 and 1992 Blazers

So anyway, congratulations to the 1996-97 Utah Jazz, the best team in NBA history to fall short of a title.

At least you have this.

[sportparade]

The Pursuit of Perfection and the Pursuit of Glory

A Panegyric for Rose Lavelle’s Style and the USWNT at the 2019 FIFA World Cup

At 77 minutes into the final, up by two goals, Jill Ellis subs in Carli Lloyd to close out the match. She might have given younger phenoms Lindsey Horan or Mallory Pugh the opportunity to experience the final, but the hard-nosed manager put her trust in experienced veterans. Over the next twenty minutes US players would dribble the ball into the corner, and to pass time further they wound possession back through their defense. It was not a playful moment but a classic checkmate. Take no risks, stick to the strategy, ensure the win at all costs. Perfection.

When the final whistle sounded the players on the field met their teammates, standing on the sideline in arm-by-arm formation. Their exuberance poured in on itself in hugs that became a huddle that pulsed and exploded back out with expressions of joy—the perfect expression of a team cohered upon a collective goal of victory. Not until they climbed atop the podium did Fox Sports’ cameras catch glimpses of the individual stars performing for the camera. Co-captains Megan Rapinoe and Alex Morgan took ritual turns on stage representing the team and the nation. But by now the backs of their jerseys all bore the same name and number: Champions 19. The announcers explained the significance of this national victory: it established a dynasty in women’s soccer, repeating as championships four years earlier, runners up the cup before, and now a world-leading four-time champion. The USWNT has a “dynasty” said German commentator Ariane Hingst, or was it Briton Eni Aluko (they spoke in voiceover from an unseen studio). Alexi Lalas and JP Dellacamera spun a narrative of a team challenged by a 2016 Olympics disappointment and the constant pressure to prevail amid an improving overall field that they led and stimulated. American players Aly Wagner and Heather O’Reilly (I think it was) spoke admiringly of this group of women for accomplishing this unprecedented feat together. The story was Team USA, on an Olympian stage, that deserved every American’s, every woman’s, and every sportsmen’s esteem.

This celebration had been elaborately prepared. The front of the Champions 19 jerseys had each player’s individual number, and four stars commemorating the United States’ four cup victories. Nike paid for the privilege of the first commercial, which they used to debut a dramatic tribute to this champion team, instantly remembered in black & white photos framed by a graphic designer expert in adobe suite. The trophy presentation had a steadycam follow Rapinoe and Morgan and Lavelle down the line of dignitaries, shaking hands with Euro-looking presidents but breaking decorum to hug the American delegates like teammates. The commentators waxed poetically with practiced bits of encomium. The preparation of the stakeholders and their objective matched the execution of the team who claimed their championship. This was not unexpected, but it was not taken for granted. Meeting expectation reinforced the team and the sport’s professional quality and power. The perfectionist playing style couples perfectly with the corporate ambition to grow the sport for its potential for both commercial revenue and female empowerment. If Rose Lavelle had not scored a virtuoso second goal, one might be hard pressed to deny the specter of an organization that conspired to ensure the success of its precious investment. You know it is nonsense, but everything would have turned up too perfectly.

Lavelle’s goal was the most unexpected and most glorious moment of the tournament for the United States. In her youth she had watched the 2015 victory in a pizza parlor, and now she was the central cog among a squad composed mostly of stars from the previous team who had had Lavelle’s prodigious moments back then. Against England she nutmegged a defender and lasered a shot on goal that would have been the play of the tournament had it squeaked into net. Instead she saved another moment of greatness for the final.

Gifted the ball mid-pitch, Lavelle sprung downfield in a style I can think of no better way to describe than as a poignant prance. Bouncing steps with powerful spring propelled her through the defense too fast to tackle, lest she counter with a tap into open space. But their backs to the line the defense had to press and she pivoted to her gunpowdered left foot and fired a line drive into goal, untouched. Her prancing attack compares to Muhammad Ali’s combination punches or Michael Jordan off the dribble—playful improvisation under extreme duress that soars confidently above conservative defenders. Quickness made their grace powerful, electrifying the scene when they perform. Ali and Jordan are usually likened to jazz musicians as an expression of quintessentially black American culture. Lavelle could not be more fair, playing college ball at nordic Wisconsin, but she and her teammates dance to hip hop (Crime Mob, after the semifinal) like all Americans now. We can choose to place her in that tradition or leave her to be herself. Watch it again.

Lavelle’s stylish goal glorified the national team with her daring and individual brilliance. Surely the Fifa committee took notice and awarded her the bronze trophy for the third best player, after dutifully awarding golden ball and goldent boot to Rapinoe, and silver boot to her co-captain Morgan. Becky Sauerbrunn’s masterful defense also warranted acclaim. I felt sick that Tobin Heath and Crystal Dunn had good opportunities thwarted, and that other young players had not been put on the pitch to claim their part of the victory. Lindsey Horan especially is recognized by most as a preeminent midfield attacker in the world. Footy time? Ellis left her on the bench in favor of strategic purpose in two knock-out matches, including the entire final. It felt cruel to insert the veteran Lloyd instead, but Ellis’ results make her judgment infallibly correct. When Ellis exited the reception line it was Lavelle who leapt forward to greet her with an embrace in center frame at center field. Lavelle had been the chosen one, and she had redeemed coach and team with an everlasting moment of greatness.

Some criticize national team futbol for stifling the spontaneity of individual play that flourishes in the professional leagues. The national team goals overshadow risky creative displays, and the parity of talent that trains together irregularly makes standout performance less likely. That makes Lavelle’s action all the more glorious. Rapinoe’s penalty kick under extreme pressure of expectation and scouting by the opponent was the most impressive display of individual nerve, the most courageous moment of the tournament. Lavelle’s was the most joyful, the most brilliant, and the most hopeful for the future. The apparent dullness of national team football is actually more dramatic for those who appreciate the social significance and partake in the feelings of solidarity. Both the team and its stars bask in the acclaim of a World Cup, with a historical resonance whose breadth can never be matched in a professional match.

I will criticize Fox Sports’ commentators for not honoring individuals enough. JP Dellacamera describes the action by compulsively naming each player as they touch the ball: “Sauerbrunn. To Mewis up the left side. Rapinoe. Back to Ertz.” et cetera. His phone recording-ready delivery paints a robotic instrumental picture despite the individual attention. He could relax and describe the movement more aloofly, and spend less time characterizing the players. But his analyst sidekick Aly Wagner describes the game like she’s in it, competing without any sense of humor or levity, arm chair coaching the team to victory. The experts in the booth with Rob Stone spoke in the same professional critical tone deliberating everything, emotionless except for Lalas who channelled his pride into ham-fisted panegyrics. They had prepared their talking points and takes before the show, and would not deviate to soak in the moment afterward. Thankfully they muted themselves for the celebration of Rapinoe’s and Lavelle’s goals, when the emotion of the individual players captivated me.

If Fox Sports had done individual profile segments like the NBC Olympic model, they were nowhere present during the final and afterward. What about star back Kelly O’Hara who succumbed to concussion symptoms, and her replacement Ali Krieger? What about Becky Sauerbrunn who earned a bleeding gash for her head-to-head challenge, and re-entered the game with a warrior-esque black bandage over her pink headband? And Crystal Dunn reinventing herself in a new position to lift the whole team and redeem Ellis’ most unconventional move, where was her story? What about Ellis on the sideline, the other players cheering or dying to sub in, and their individual stories? The broadcast was therefore both underprepared and overprepared, unable to cope with the unexpected action in a creative way. Their half-prepared postgame surely reflects a relatively limited investment in women’s soccer, relying too much on ex-player analysis and generic anchors both somewhat out of touch with the spirit of the women’s soccer fan (well the men much more so). Only Karina LeBlanc struck all the right notes in her post-post game streaming show, that salvaged the glory of the moments lived by these individuals. It was supremely competent coverage, with extraordinary picture and sound, but their practiced words never became poetry.

What made the image of goal celebrations so exciting was the shorter focal length of the lenses. Telephoto images of players during the national anthem flattened each face against a background blurred to abstraction. This pop style framed the stars Rapinoe and Morgan like comic book heroes. The central camera following the game also abstracted the players from its near aerial height, peering upon their movement like gazing over a pinball machine. But the cameras on the sideline captured the goal celebrations at wider angles, in the presence of the players who addressed the camera with poses, and immersed us viewers in their world. Here they are in the flesh, moving through the same space we do on a soccer field, with expertise and total satisfaction. The realism of these moments jumped past the discourse of strategy and scripted ceremonies to a live moment of glory. Their excellence as athletes and as women was there to see in a way that my essay wants to remember but cannot grasp. For that we need poetry; or, to await the 2020 Olympics and 2023 World Cup to live the spontaneous game broadcast on whatever device takes us to the field (the campus in Latin), where champions come to life.

—Grant Wiedenfeld, July 7, 2019

[hiikisekki-blog]

Smeb x Faker

Sanghyeok was more or less the one who initiated their meeting.

When he walked into that quaint little café in Seoul - bundled up in his puffy black jacket during the off-season, when people were supposed to be at home away from League and spending time with their family, or girlfriends for that matter - Kyungho was too surprised.

He watched Sanghyeok glance around the café, frowning slightly, before his gazes directed right at Kyungho, boring into his eyes. Too late, he was already striding forward towards his table.

Sanghyeok stepped onto the elevated wooden platform of the booth, before hesitating, his eyes suddenly cast to the side like he shouldn’t be there.

“Sorry, Kyungho, can I sit here?”

A few options ran through Kyungho’s mind. He could reject him, coming up with some lame excuse like there was no space for the two of them in that little booth, or that he wanted his privacy. but this was Sanghyeok. They knew each other, and there were no other seats in the café. Kyungho suddenly realised that Sanghyeok’s brown eyes were once again focused on him, waiting for his reaction. Kyungho cleared his throat awkwardly.

“umm... of course. “ Kyungho shifted the laptop he brought with him to give Sanghyeok some of his own space, taking the bag he had put on the table and throwing it down haphazardly on the floor.

Sanghyeok slid opposite of Kyungho, taking off his jacket and throwing it around the chair, letting it hang off the back, before standing up, blending himself into the queue for coffee.

Kyungho glanced back at his queue, clicking through the different windows until he land on KaKao Talk, clicking for that one person he knew would be living online 24/7.

Smeb: “does sanghyeok not go back during hols?”

Peanut: “yeah. Says family r not nice ot be with and company of computers are better.”

peanut: “btw why do you ask?”

Smeb: “Nah, its nothing.”

Peanut: “tell me u saw him.”

Smeb: “I did not see him.”

Peanut: “seems like someone's in a mood.”

Kyungho groaned slightly, flicking back to his queue screen in hops of finding a game. Obviously to no avail.

Smeb: “I am not in a mood.”

peanut: “Apparently.”

There was a pause in their conversation, Kyungho unsure what he should say next. he should really ask Wangho what to do when Sanghyeok suddenly walks up to your table and is now sitting with you.

Peanut: “well, if you do see him, talk to him about League.”

Kyungho pondered over that suggestion. Talk to Sanghyeok about League? But, technically, by their teams and their standing, they were depicted arch enemies by OGN, both fighting for the top spot in the League ladder. Talking to Faker about the one thing they both loved most couldn’t be that bad right?

Smeb: “okay, thanks.”

Peanut: “np, good luck on yr date.”

Smeb: “it’s not a date.”

Peanut: “yeah right it isn’t.”

Kyungho groaned, closing his KaKao Talk. His queue was everlasting, his last game about 20 minutes ago. On hindsight, he had absolutely forgotten to ask Wangho what about League he should ask about. Obviously not pro league. Then what else was there?

-------------------------------------------------

Sanghyeok stared at him, incredulity in his dark eyes, quickly wiped away before being replaced by an almost childlike curiosity.

He had come back with his own mug of hot latte, and one of the cafe’s famous waffles in the other. The hand that he was using to stir the coffee had stopped, and was now idly holding the plasting white stirrer, and Kyungho desperately hoped that his queue would find a game or something like a natural disaster could occur now so that he could just run out of this awkward situation. (although he realises that it would just be rather rude to wish for death to just come upon the other innocent people in the cafe.)

Then, quickly, Sanghyeok turned his gaze away from Kyungho’s, and the hand was stirring again.

“How do I think about the current meta? Well,” Sanghyeok paused, his voice already hollowing out to that famous monotone of his, “I think that Ashe following into the meta from last year was a nice surprise and especially with Camille now, there are more power picks than ever.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” The words were out of Kyungho’s mouth before he could stop them. “I play pro league too, and I dare say that my team is one of the best in the world. So stop treating this like an interview and actually try to have a decent conversation with me.”

Okay, this is where he probably just crashed through some unseen line that he and Sanghyeok had drawn, and Kyungho ducked down the screen of his computer, trying to muster up some apology for being exceedingly rude to someone older than him, when Sanghyeok seemed to take pity of his flustered form in the form of answering with a little bit more life in his tone.

“Well, I’m not sure what to say about the current meta that you won’t know.”

Right. Kyung forgot that they were both absolute conversation killers when it came to socialising. They would usually leave it to their more, active, friendly and outgoing teammates to do it for them.

“I wish that Fiora was played more often. She’s a good carry, but I don’t think that she’ll be any match against Camille.”

“Camille has already been severely NERFed since the 7.1 patch came out, especially since there were a ton of NERFs in that patch with so few updates to other things.”

“But even with the NERFs I think Camille is still a huge threat with LeBlanc and Rengar. Even if they’re both assassins and LeBlanc has been on a losing streak.”

“Are you implying that I should play LeBlanc when the season starts again?”

“Yeah.” Kyungho hesitated a little, knowing how Faker had been so cautious on LeBlanc ever since MSI 2015 and it was a touchy subject for them both. But he had Sanghyeok’s attention, even if they both didn’t maintain eye contact. “Wangho is on a Lee Sin winning streak right now, and he’s the one who broke the curse on Lee Sin during the LCK Spring Split. And he’s still undefeated on the Lee Sin. Maybe you could do the same with LeBlanc. Make her absolute.”

“Perhaps.” Sanghyeok said vaguely, even if Kyungho could see the glimmer of eagerness in his eyes. “But the team has 4 potential hyper carries, and lately I’ve been plying a more utility and support role in mid to help either Wangho or Junsik be the carry.” Sanghyeok let out a frustrated sigh through his nose. “it’s not that I don’t like others hard carrying the game instead of me, it’s just that when Wangho picks Lee Sin he just goes crazy on it.”

Just look at MSI, came unspoken. They both knew what happened. Although not as disasterous as the start of 2016 MSI, it was a bit too over the top, playing with their opponents, have them run around in circles when SKT had a chokehold on them the whole time. When they picked a team composition that worked especially well at dismantling rookie or unexperienced teams, they just absolutely destroyed them. Wangho got 14 kills before the 20 minute mark.

“it kinda feels the same here. Just that I end up being one of the hyper carries.”

“Nah. Well, I may be wrong but,” Sanghyeok paused, but when he spoke, there was no doubt in his voice. “I think you play a rather similar role to my own in most games. We both can be hyper carries on the champions that we pick but it’s usually the planned carry that gets all the kills, the CS, the gold. And then I just run in  to back them up with Orianna or Lulu.”

“But I don’t think you particularly like to be in the shadows.”

“I think you would. Especially if you guys won that game. That thing that you did against Samsung in Spring Split Semis? That was it.” Sanghyeok took another gulp from his rapidly cooling coffee.Kyungho took the opportunity to scroll through his windows and check his queue again. What Sanghyeok said had been partially right. After all, he knew that he was a better team player than Sanghyeok from the start, which had placed him in the top position for the best players of Worlds 2016 by the casters, garnering him more fans but also the stiff, scripted drama between Sanghyeok and himself, causing a rather unintentional divide between them. But the casters underestimated how strong the rest of SKT actually was.

“But are you not happy that you don’t get to be the carry? I mean, you’re someone who got scouted just from your ranked solo queue stats. you were meant to be the carry. Especially with your Katarina plays at the beginning of the Spring Split.”

“Sadly, it’s supposed to have all been left behind the moment SKT T1 K disbanded.” Sanghyeok eyed his mug before taking another gulp, giving Kyungho a clear view of his throat as he swallowed. “K was meant to be built around me, but we were all from solo queue. We all had talent. And Coach did a good job of blending us all together.”

Perhaps this was just Sanghyeok’s own way in saying that he did miss being the carry. And Kyungho knew how that felt. He’d made it all the way to the semifinals in LCK Spring Split, only to fall to SKT in the finals. Much reminiscent of World 2015. And of Worlds 2016, but they had made their last stand during Semifinals against SKT, and they could have beat them. Hell, they could have beaten Samsung after they supposedly beat SKT. But that was all ‘could have’s and ‘what if’s. There was only now, where that SKT mountain, that SKT house that Faker, Kkoma, and all of the other SKT members had painstakingly built up and maintained with their blood, sweat and tears. (perhaps not so much tears, but the words served it own effect.)

He watched Sanghyeok gather up his coat, saying a brief goodbye before turning for the door. He shouldn’t think that they would meet again.

---------------------------------------

A/N: okay, so this is the first part in this 5+1 LoL thing between Smeb and Faker that i’m going on. I got the inspiration after reading a good fic on AO3 (its called “when we give enough of ourselves away we lose sight of who we are and sometimes we call that love and sometimes we call that self-destruction”. it’s centered around Deft but it has a really cute Smeb and Faker scene inside, which just made me want to read the whole fic again. Props to birdring (twoif)) i’m going to write another part, but that is going to be a maybe because my exams are coming up. So like and reblog and message if you want me to continue!

(and this style of writing for Faker and Smeb may be a little to OC for you but sadly, I've never met Faker or Smeb before, and I've never been to Korea so that’s already an issue. I hope that you can use all of your wonderful imagination and pls pretend for the sake of the story. Plus, i’m open to constructive criticism if you have any. Thanks!)

[glookie]

Qualifications for the Swedish champonship: Done

This year you had to qualify for the Swedish championship in HEMA which will be held in Borås this summer. The qualification competitions started off this weekend, I was competing both in women’s longsword and the mixed class in sabre. I haven’t been able to train so much to this event at all because of diseases and the accident against my head and because of this I was rather calm when we traveled to the event. I told myself: Nah, I will finish last. It doesn’t matter that much. I slept at Julia’s at a terrible air mattress which let out air during the night. I came to the event feeling tired and not eager at all. My stomach was a mess, I felt ill and tired. The goal for this day was to.. Survive and get through it. I had a hard time realize that this was actually happening, where had all the time gone? I told myself that the result didn’t matter, that my main goal was to fence and had fun. My warmup went ok. I could feel that I was tired though. I really think that my warmup session was too intense this time, I spared a lot with Simon in beforehand, making my legs feel like syrup. I really do hate when that happens. I had to do my first match without a coach since I was meeting Nina from Gothenburg and Julia that is from the same club had promise to coach both of us. That was a weird feeling, since I’m used to having a coach with me. Something to train on! My fencing was not at all at my best, I felt a bit unfocused and my mind was not in the right place. My mind and my body didn’t really go where I wanted. I still did very well in the pool, only losing one match. This is important for me, I didn’t perform at my best at all but still managed to pull of good fencing, taking me to the Semifinals in Borås. Having that in mind, I know I have a lot to bring to the championship.

I fought the last match against Jenny, it was amazing. We danced along with each other. She took points, I followed up. I got points, she followed after. She won in the end, but it was a very close call. Love those ones! I’m very proud over Nina and Carolina who both competed for the first time. They were nervous and anxious in beforehand and they did very well in the competition. They were both smiling afterwards, looking like children at Christmas eve. That is the best, to see that enthusiasm and happiness in people who just have been competing. Wanting more of it. Love to both of you! I judged the men’s longsword after my own competition. The space around the mats was very narrow, and god. I’ve never been so afraid when I’ve judged before. There was nowhere to go, and the fencers on the mat was very close to you all the time. I’m just glad that no judge got injured. And because of the narrow space, I got to see my club mates performing really well from a very close perspective. Day 2. Tired. Exhausted. Slept less than 4 hours. Started to judge rapier and dagger at 10:00. I was glad that it was such a nice and clean fencing in those matches. It made the judging a lot easier. Rapier and dagger is tricky to judge since there is two weapon to keep an eye at but I think it went smooth this time. Well done fencers! Now it was time for me to prepare for the tournament in sabre. I had Dennis Ljungkvist in my pool. I felt a bit anxious because of that. I warmed up with Fredrik who were in the other pool. It was nice and relaxed. My only goal in sabre was to not finish last. The first match was against Dennis. I didn’t have a chance against him at all. My respect for him grew a lot. There is one thing to see a guy fence and to actually compete against him. He has an outstanding footwork, I tried to make afterblows against him when he hit me. He was miles away from my range, frustrating! Afterwards he told me that he had been thinking to hit me in the head in beforehand, but that he didn’t manage because I was protecting my head very well. That Is a huge win for me since I’ve been practicing a lot to do that. I didn’t win any of my matches in sabre, but I still did very well. And fencing is not about winning matches, it’s about to make those small steps one at a time. That Is how you become a master in what you are doing. Seeing the small things, know what you still have to work on and do that. Celebrating the small efforts is much more important. Rome wasn’t built in a day, not me either. The last match in sabre for me was really fun. It was intense, I managed to do things I haven’t done before and I even tried to get the guy out of the ring! I almost pulled it off, almost. Next time maybe! I also coached my friend Oscar. Coaching others for me has always been hard, this time it wasn’t. I felt that I could give Oscar what he needed in the ring, we became a team and It was like it was me fencing. He got all the way to the quarter finals in Borås. I am very proud of him and the rest of my team, as always. We are three from our club going to the finals in Borås, Oscar in sabre and me and Jesper in longsword. I am so excited! Now I am dead tired. Goodnight, over and out.

[famedubaitravl]

‘Cricket nuffy’ Finch sets sights on World Cup 2023

HATCHING A PLAN

Finch is primarily concerned about the combinations required to play in India © BCCI

Australia and World Cups.

It’s the time they thrive. Even when they’re completely battered, beaten down, and have redefined rockbottom like they did in Newlands, they find a way. Prior to the 2019 men’s World Cup, they were a team rebuilding from the rubble. They had been battered by England in ODIs, by India in their own backyard. But the World Cup on the horizon, they overturned a 0-2 deficit to India and began purring once more.

Aaron Finch’s side then finished second in the group stages of the tournament before bowing out to eventual champions England in the semifinal. The Australia skipper is already plotting ways to reclaim the lost throne in the next edition in India in 2023.

“I’m a cricket nuffy so you are always thinking about it, especially being captain. I’m looking forward to the 2023 50-over World Cup in India,” Finch told SEN Radio. “In the 50-over space, it’s about working back from that 2023 World Cup and really getting a detailed plan of how we think we’ll have to win it, what’s the structure of the side we’ll need in India. Is it going to be two spinners, is it going to be an extra allrounder and kind of work back from there.”

Finch is primarily concerned about the combinations required to play in India, and the need for a top-class spinner who can shoulder the workload for the entire event. He also emphasizes the importance of grooming players in terms of situations of pressure rather than skill, which he reckons should be a given, going into an event as crucial as the World Cup. Ergo, the Australian captain’s first mission is to create a pool of seasoned players to choose from in the next couple of years.

“We need to work out what resources we’ll need in terms of players. If there’s someone new we identify who could perhaps have a big impact, how many games can we get into them over the next two and a half years to make sure they have enough experience so that in a high-pressure semi-final you aren’t going in hoping they’ll do well, you know they have the form and enough experience behind them to make sure they are comfortable with the international level,” said Finch, determined to form a seasoned team for the big event in 2023.

“It’s either working out what the 15, or say 25 players now, what that looks like, whether it matches our game plan going forward, or do we pick the side the other way round with a game plan in mind and adapt it that way.

“It’s not rocket science, it’s going through data, and a bit of gut instinct of what you feel will be the trends of one-day cricket. Will it be 400, or will it be that 320-mark with some wearing pitches in India and a couple of spinners in your side?”

Australia’s last ODI series versus New Zealand was aborted midway due to the COVID-19 pandemic, and there has been no international cricket since, as the virus has wreaked havoc across continents.

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Stejskal: Dan Hunt explores how FC Dallas can fix their attack for 2019

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November 9, 201811:46AM EST

For the second year in a row, FC Dallas came out of the gate flying.

And for the second year in a row, a late slump ended the club’s season far earlier than they’d hoped.

Their 2018 slide didn’t approach the depths of their brutal second-half collapse in 2017, but it was just about as costly. FCD managed to return to the playoffs this year, but they were bounced immediately, losing at home to the Portland Timbers in the Knockout Round last Wednesday.

The defeat was the fourth in a row for Dallas, who entered their final three games of the regular season in first place in the Western Conference, four points ahead of second-place Sporting Kansas City. They still had some work to do to secure the top spot in the West heading into their Oct. 13 match at D.C. United, but a top-two seed and a bye to the Conference Semifinals looked relatively secure.

Then, the wheels fell off. FCD lost 1-0 at D.C., fell 3-0 at home to SKC on Oct. 21 and conceded twice in the final 10 minutes to lose 2-1 at Colorado on Decision Day presented by AT&T. The final capitulation against Portland followed a few days later.

The common thread throughout the losing skid? A dried-up attack. Dallas, who finished the regular season tied for the third-fewest goals in the West, scored just twice in their final four matches. Their forwards repeatedly failed to put away quality chances, they had difficulty building through the middle and their wingers struggled with the final ball. The problems proved fatal in the loss to Portland, when Dallas couldn’t break down a Timbers team that played down a man for the final 30 minutes.

“We’ve got to be cleaner in front of the net and we’ve also got to be cleaner on those entry passes into the box,” FCD owner and president Dan Hunt told MLSsoccer.com on Thursday.

Hunt knows Dallas needs to improve in the final third in 2019, but he isn’t yet set on how to best achieve that. The most obvious solution would be to upgrade at striker, where FCD got minimal production this season. Maxi Urruti was streaky at the position before moving into a deeper role after Mauro Diaz was sold in July; Dominique Badji scored just two goals in 10 games after he was acquired later in July as part of the deal that sent Kellyn Acosta the other way; Designated Player Cristian Colman played and scored sparingly before tearing his ACL in early October.

Despite all that, Hunt isn’t entirely convinced that Dallas need a dominant No. 9. Hunt and VP of soccer operations Luiz Muzzi, who is leading the technical staff while technical director Fernando Clavijo is on leave due to health reasons, are “interested in looking at the position,” but they’re also weighing alternative options. They’re considering moving nominal winger Michael Barrios into “more of a Josef Martinez-type” role in the middle, where they believe the Colombian could thrive.

Hunt also praised Colman’s ability to “create a lot of chaos” in the attacking end and pointed to his injury as a major reason for Dallas’ downfall. He still believes in Urruti as a striker. And he noted that SKC, Real Salt Lake and Portland don’t have a standout No. 9 and are yet all those teams are still in contention for the 2018 MLS Cup.

“We’ve spent a long time thinking about goalscoring and, at least from my statistics, [13] of the league’s top-25 goal scorers didn’t even make the playoffs; four were eliminated in the play-in game. So, [17] of the league’s top-25 didn’t even make it past the first round of the playoffs,” he said. “That leads you to sort of think about things maybe in a little bit of a different way.

“It’s the more balanced scoring approach that you see from teams like Kansas City, Salt Lake has a more balanced scoring approach, Portland. I think we’re frankly a little more balanced, although not with the volume that we’d had in past years. So, is that a more successful model? Or is the out and out 15-goal guy, of which there were only seven of those in the league this year? I think the jury’s still out on some of that.”

Hunt is right about SKC, RSL and the Timbers goals-by-committee approach working fine this season, but a quick glance at a list of recent MLS Cup winner belies the apparent need for a top striker. Toronto had Jozy Altidore in 2017; Portland had Fanendo Adi in 2015; LA had Robbie Keane in 2014, 2012 and 2011. A league champ emerging without a dead-eye No. 9 is more of the exception than the rule.

Dallas could still add at the position; they’re just not yet committed to the idea. They’re also not likely to spend huge amounts of money this winter. The club already have three DPs on the books for 2019 in Colman, Santiago Mosquera and Carlos Gruezo, and while all could be bought down using TAM to open space for a new DP, Hunt said he didn’t expect that would happen this offseason.

If they don’t sign a new striker – Badji and Urruti, like Colman, also have guaranteed deals for 2019 – Hunt said that they could add on the wing. He liked what he saw from Mosquera when he was healthy in 2018 and predicted that the 23-year-old would be a “double-digit goal scorer next season.” He also noted that the club got decent production from Barrios, who had six goals and six assists this season. Both are also guaranteed for next year.

The club have an option on fellow winger and team co-leading scorer Roland Lamah, who, according to the MLS Players Association, was FCD’s highest paid player in 2018 with a $ 818,500 salary. Another wide attacker, Tesho Akindele, is FCD’s lone out of contract player, though Hunt said Dallas are interested in bringing him back.

One position where FCD likely won’t make any new signings is No. 10, where 21-year-old summer acquisition Pablo Aranguiz and 18-year-old Homegrown Paxton Pomykal will compete for the 2019 starting role.

“We’re excited about Pablo. We spent a lot of time looking at him, scouting him, understanding him. He’s got a lot of similarities to Mauro Diaz, and when he was on the field we saw a lot of really great things,” said Hunt. “As his playing time lessened down the stretch, that, obviously, I don’t think that helped him in his development, but he’s a major piece for this next season. As is, I would tell you, Paxton Pomykal. I have big hopes for Paxton here. He’s having a very good Under-20 tournament [with the U.S.] and there’s a lot of belief in his ability, so I think you’ll see that playmaker role shared between those two for 2019.”

Pomykal isn’t the only Homegrown who Hunt expects to get more out of in 2019. He also name-checked Jesus Ferreira and Thomas Roberts as players who should see minutes next season. Even if they’re not first-team regulars, they’ll finally have an outlet for playing time with FCD’s newly-announced USL League One side.

Hunt said that the team, which will announce their name, home stadium, head coach and technical staff in the coming weeks, will be composed mainly of developing MLS players, first-teamers rehabbing injuries and academy players. It could be a vital step for Dallas, who Hunt admitted have lacked a bridge from their academy to the first team for far too long.

Another Homegrown, defender Chris Richards, might not be back in Dallas at all next season. The US youth international is on loan to Bayern Munich through the end of the calendar year. He’s impressed with the German giants to the point that Hunt indicated he could remain in Bavaria via permanent transfer after his loan expires at the end of December.

Of course, the defense isn’t the problem. Not with all four backline starters and the top-two goalkeepers from a stingy group guaranteed for next season. The attack is where the questions lie for FC Dallas. Hunt is still confident in his club’s model, staff and players and he doesn’t have any regrets about moving Diaz or Acosta this summer, but he knows that if Dallas don’t take a step forward in the final third, they could once again fall short in 2019.

“We’re not doing this for any other reason than to try to win a championship,” he said. “We’ve got to get better. Exiting the playoffs in this entry round is not where we want to be.”

Series: 

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Stejskal: Dan Hunt explores how FC Dallas can fix their attack for 2019 was originally published on 365 Football