As the bus rumbled along the highway, Haruka sat with Daisuke, her earlier anger slowly ebbing away. She kept her focus on helping him, determined to push Ji-Yong's ridiculous accusations out of her mind for the time being. He wasn't worth the frustration, she told herself. She didn't owe him any explanations—he was the one who had left her hanging. So why did his words sting so much?

But Daisuke's goofy, eager face was enough of a distraction to keep her from spiralling into those thoughts. He was hanging on her every word as she gave him advice on how to impress Namiko, who was known for her fiery attitude and high standards.

"You've gotta be a little more confident, Daisuke," Haruka said, giving him a playful nudge. "Namiko's tough, but she's not impossible to crack. She likes when guys are straightforward, not when they're fumbling around and too shy."

Daisuke nodded, trying to keep up, but his face was a mix of excitement and sheer terror. "Right... straight... yeah. I'll try that."

As the bus began to slow, the team's victory high still buzzed in the air, though some of the boys had dozed off or were quietly chatting in pairs. Together, they walked over to Abeno's Okonomiyake. The food was amazing, but it wasn't just the meal that had everyone buzzing—it was the celebration she had orchestrated. His teammates immediately perked up when they spotted Haruka's girlfriends waiting outside the restaurant. The girls cheered for them, and suddenly all the guys puffed out their chests, standing a little taller. Hiro noticed Haruka nudge Daisuke, offering him some quiet words of encouragement.

Daisuke didn't take long to gravitate towards Namiko, clearly working up the courage to talk to her. Hiro took that moment as an opportunity to walk beside Haruka, the girl who had so easily become the center of his world. He wanted to take her hand, but the nerves were creeping in, his palm threatening to get clammy. Would she even want to hold his hand in front of everyone? But before he could overthink it, she smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling in the warm light from the streetlamps, and gently slid her hand into his.

His heart fluttered at the simple gesture. They walked toward the restaurant hand-in-hand.

"What was that about?" he asked, trying to suppress the grin threatening to break across his face. Her hand was soft and cool in his, the perfect fit.

"Just practising my matchmaking skills," she said with a wink. "It's been painful watching Daisuke pine after Namiko all this time. I figured he could use a little push, and now that I know he's a decent guy, I don't mind setting them up."

A small part of him resisted the urge to advise that maybe meddling with other people's affairs wasn't a good idea, but he was in too high spirits. 

 "Namiko looks like she could chew him up and spit him out," he said, glancing at the girl in question. Namiko was tossing her bleach-blonde hair over her shoulder and constantly checking her nails, the very picture of a mean-girl stereotype.  He hoped Daisuke could handle whatever she threw his way.

Haruka smirked. "Trust me, Daisuke can handle her. He's tougher than he looks."

The moment they stepped into the restaurant, the atmosphere shifted. The scent of sizzling okonomiyaki, rich and savoury, filled the air. The clatter of plates and the hum of voices created a warm, welcoming vibe that immediately put Hiro at ease. The manager—a rotund man with a hearty smile and the kind of energy that made everyone feel like family—approached them, bowing and congratulating the team on their victory.

"Thank you, thank you," Hiro mumbled, bowing slightly in return, though his eyes narrowed as he caught the manager glancing at Haruka. A flicker of protective jealousy lit up in his chest as he remembered the scandalous maid outfit.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Haruka leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear as she tugged on his hand. "By the way," she whispered, her tone playful, "I was joking about the costume. I just said it to rile up you guys and make them work harder."

Hiro blinked, turning to her in disbelief. "What? Really?"

She laughed softly, resting her head on his shoulder for a moment. "Yes, really. I wouldn't wear something like that, Hiro. Relax. No more basketball talk tonight, okay? Just food, friends, and fun."

As they found their table, bowls of steaming okonomiyaki started arriving, each one piled high with savory fillings—cabbage, seafood, topped with creamy mayonnaise and pickled ginger. Hiro's stomach growled as the aroma hit him, and he realized just how hungry he was. It had been a while since he let himself relax like this, surrounded by friends and food. It reminded him of simpler times in middle school, when he and Chibi would hang out at fast food joints, back before the pressures of championships and regional qualifiers took over their lives.

The team took up nearly half the restaurant, their laughter and chatter filling the space. Hiro noticed that none of the other patrons seemed to mind. In fact, many of them smiled in the team's direction, some even offering words of congratulations. It was a good feeling—a sense of community, of being part of something bigger than himself.

Haruka, ever the social butterfly, laughed at something Koji and Hikari said, her hand resting lightly on Hiro's arm. Ayame sat down on his other side, her usual reclusiveness fading away in the warm, easy atmosphere. Daisuke was deep in conversation with Namiko, his nervous energy gone as he leaned in closer, saying something that made her giggle. Whatever Haruka had told him earlier seemed to be working.

Hiro felt himself relax more and more. This was what he needed—the reminder that it wasn't all about winning or losing, but about moments like these, where he could just be a teenager, surrounded by his friends, laughing and enjoying life. As his father used to say, sometimes it's about the journey, not the destination.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Koji stood up, raising a glass. "I'd like to propose a toast," he said, his voice carrying over the clinking of glasses and the murmurs of conversation. "To Haruka, for being the cutest, most ruthless manager we've ever had!"

The boys erupted into cheers, clapping and whistling. Hiro grinned, slipping an arm around Haruka's shoulders and pulling her in for a playful squeeze. She smiled coyly, her cheeks flushing slightly under the attention.

Ji-Yong, sitting across the table, raised his glass as well, though his expression was more subdued. His eyes briefly met Haruka's, and she nodded in thanks, a quiet acknowledgement of their complicated history. Ji-Yong sighed, swirling the drink in his glass. What an idiot he'd been.

As he watched Haruka now, sitting comfortably beside Hiro, laughing with the team, it hit him just how much he'd messed up. He'd jumped to conclusions about her and hurt her in ways he hadn't even fully realised at the time. That day in the cafeteria, when he sat with Mai, thinking he had everything figured out, he remembered the look of hurt in Haruka's eyes—brief but unmistakable. 

And now she was with Hiro, a guy who didn't make rash decisions.

Served him right.

His phone kept buzzing in his pocket and he'd deal Seok-Jin later. He earned his right to celebrate. But he still looked down at his knuckles, where the faint scars still marked his skin, and at the ink peeking out from under his sleeve. A reminder of who he was and where he came from. Can he fit in with this crowd? These carefree kids who played basketball and hung out by the beach, who chipped in for karaoke nights and shared ramen after practice. Ji-Yong was different and always would be. His past was never far behind him, and no amount of pretending would change that.

Mai, sitting beside him, placed a hand gently on his thigh. "You okay?" she asked, her voice soft with concern.

He glanced at her, feeling a pang of guilt. Mai was kind and sweet, and she deserved someone who actually cared. But the truth was, he felt nothing.

"Yeah," he lied, forcing a small smile. "Just tired."

As the night wore on, the laughter and clinking of glasses eventually quieted, but the warmth in the room remained. Hiro leaned back in his chair, looking around at his friends, at Haruka beside him, and smiled. This—right here—was worth every grueling practice, every nerve-wracking game.

"Cheers, guys," Hiro said, lifting his glass one last time. "Here's to us, and here's to making this our year."

The team echoed his words, glasses clinking together in a symphony of hope and determination. Haruka beamed, fitting seamlessly into the group, bantering with the guys and taking pictures with the girls.

And Ji-Yong? He just watched her, knowing that maybe—just maybe—this was how things were meant to be.