Extra Basket-Chapter 183 - 170: Things get messy

Location: Hospital Room

Time: 7:51 PM

The dim lights above flickered softly, casting a warm orange hue over the sterile white of Ethan’s hospital room. The beeping of machines was constant, steady—like a reminder he was still holding on.

Inside the room, Lucas Graves, his sister Charlotte, and Louie Davas sat in silence.

No one said anything.

No one needed to.

Ethan’s pale face, half-lit in the shadows of IV lines and machines, said enough.

Charlotte stood near the window, arms crossed tightly as she bit her lower lip.

Lucas sat at Ethan’s bedside, elbows on knees, staring at the floor.

Louie leaned against the far wall, his voice long gone from the screams he let out the day before.

Suddenly—

Knock knock.

The door creaked open.

Lucas turned.

His eyes widened.

"...Kagetsu? ...Jalen?"

Standing at the door were Kagetsu Renjiro, the cold storm from Roanoke, now without his game face and beside him, the unmistakable presence of Jalen "Flash" Carter from the Chicago Raptors.

Jalen wore a hoodie with the hood down, hands in his pockets. His piercing eyes were softer now, no arrogancejust concern.

Kagetsu’s face was unreadable as always, but something about his posture... it wasn’t his usual calm swagger.

It was solemn.

Quiet.

Human.

"Yo," Jalen said first, giving a slight nod to Lucas, then a glance toward Ethan. "We came as soon as we heard."

Kagetsu stepped forward, his hands in his pockets. "No cameras. No press. Just us."

Louie stood straighter. Charlotte blinked, unsure if it was real.

Lucas slowly stood up. "Why... Why are you guys here?"

Jalen looked straight at him. "Because he’s our rival... and our friend."

Kagetsu added, voice low, "You think just because we wore different jerseys, we didn’t care? That we didn’t respect what he is?"

He walked to the side of the bed. Stared down at Ethan.

"...Idiot," Kagetsu muttered. "...You’re not supposed to go down before I beat you fair."

Jalen looked at him and grinned slightly, but it faded fast.

Then he looked at Lucas.

"...He’s the reason I’m training harder than ever."

"He’s the reason Kagetsu started working on his passing game."

"He’s the reason why a lot of us got better."

Lucas stayed quiet.

Then... he nodded.

"I know."

Charlotte stepped closer, studying the two prodigies with a surprising softness.

"You two really think that highly of him?"

Jalen gave a genuine smile. "I don’t think it. I know it."

Kagetsu clenched his jaw, then whispered, "Ethan Albarado doesn’t just change the scoreboard. He changes people."

The room went still.

Only the monitor beeped.

Only Ethan’s breathing whispered.

And around him three teammates, a sister, and two former rivals-turned-friends...

...stood guard.

...

Location: Outside Ethan’s Hospital Room

Time: 8:23 PM

Characters: Lucas Graves, Kagetsu Renjiro, Jalen "Flash" Carter

The air outside Room was heavy.

Not with noise, the hallway was mostly quiet, aside from the occasional squeak of nurses’ shoes and the low hum of fluorescent lights but with weight.

The kind that pressed on your shoulders even when you stood still.

Lucas Graves stepped out, rubbing his temples. His jacket hung loosely on him now, and the fatigue in his eyes was obvious. Behind him, Kagetsu Renjiro and Jalen Carter followed, keeping their voices low.

They stopped by a vending machine. Neither of the three reached for a drink.

Kagetsu leaned against the wall, his arms crossed.

He stared at the tiles, then slowly said:

"I still can’t believe this... After we lost against your team... after that day, I suddenly get a message. It just said Ethan got shot."

Lucas lowered his head.

"Yeah... me too. I still can’t believe this."

A pause.

Jalen broke the silence, voice sharp but calm:

"Did they catch the one who did it?"

Lucas’s fingers clenched.

"Still nothing..."

He sighed and added,

"But my mom — she’s already working with the police. They’re investigating the scene. Tapping into some security networks."

(Romanov Graves... thank God she’s on this. Otherwise...)

Kagetsu was quiet for a moment, eyes unreadable.

Then he asked:

"What will you do now?"

Lucas looked up, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

Jalen looked sideways at Kagetsu as if asking him with his eyes: You sure about this?

Kagetsu gave a nod and pushed forward.

"...The Nationals, Lucas."

That one sentence made the hallway feel even colder.

Lucas froze.

"...You think I should focus on that?"

Kagetsu didn’t flinch. His tone was serious but not cold. It was honest.

"You’re one of the team’s pillars now, aren’t you?"

Jalen added,

"You’re not just the copycat anymore. You’re their core. Their gravity. And right now, with Ethan in a coma..."

He looked at Lucas carefully.

"...you’re their light."

Lucas bit his lip.

His voice cracked slightly.

"How can I even think about Nationals when Ethan’s still..."

(...still lying in there. Still not waking up. Still not smiling like he always does.)

Kagetsu looked him dead in the eye.

"Then play for him."

That sentence hit like a clean elbow to the chest.

Lucas blinked, hard.

Jalen stepped in closer, voice calm but firm:

"Don’t run from it. Step up. It’s what he would’ve done. You know that."

Kagetsu nodded.

"He trained you. Trusted you. Trusted your instincts. All of you."

Lucas lowered his head again... then slowly nodded.

He clenched his fists.

"...Alright."

..

Location: Undisclosed Underground Facility

Time: 9:13 PM

The silence in the room was unnatural.

No flicker of screens. No idle chatter. Just tension — like air right before a storm breaks.

And then—

Bang!

A gunshot tore through the room.

The sniper’s head snapped back, a blossom of crimson spraying behind him. His body collapsed like a ragdoll, lifeless.

Everyone froze.

At the center of it all stood the masked man — platinum blond hair catching the dim, artificial light. His hand still clutched the pistol, smoking at the barrel.

The air burned with silence... until he snapped.

"FUCK YOU ALL! FUCK YOU!!"

"I told you — don’t touch my Ethan!!!"

His voice echoed like thunder through the steel chamber.

Drew, wide-eyed but trying to defuse it with his usual grin, chuckled nervously.

"C-Calm down, Wonder..."

"SHUT UP, DREW!!"

The old man at the head of the table, their leader, slammed his cane against the metal floor.

"Enough! What’s done is done!"

Wonder turned his mask toward him.

Without hesitation, he raised his gun again not to shoot, but to make a point.

"Yeah. It is done."

He threw the pistol on the table with a metallic clang. The dead sniper’s blood still fresh on the muzzle.

"This is what enough looks like, old man."

The others didn’t move. Couldn’t. They had all known Wonder was unstable... but this?

Ron, still calm in his gray blazer, spoke coolly:

"Calm down, Wonder. Ethan is still alive. Barely. But alive."

Jerry leaned back, his usual smile gone. He glanced at the sniper’s corpse and muttered:

"...Holy shit. He actually killed him."

Madame Vena, arms folded tightly, narrowed her eyes.

"That bastard really did it. Just for that boy."

The snake-like man at the far end hissed,

"Well fuck... This just got annoyingly messed up."

The woman with the tablet scrolled rapidly, reading data lines.

"Sir... There’s a growing probability we’ll be exposed. Ethan Albarado being shot in public — there are cameras, witnesses, forensic traces."

The old man clenched his fist, lips curling.

"This has become a problem... Rowena, find a solution."

Vena lifted her chin.

"I have one. But it won’t be clean."

That was when Wonder moved again.

His voice now was quiet.

Dangerously so.

"Enough."

"I don’t want to hear any of your fucking words."

His eyes burning behind the mask swept over them.

"None of you understand what he means. You don’t get it."

He turned sharply and stormed out of the room, the echo of his boots leaving dread in his wake.

The door hissed shut behind him.

The silence returned.

But this time...

It was laced with fear.

..

Meanwhile back to Lucas

The steady beep... beep... beep... of the heart monitor filled the room, a quiet but constant reminder that Ethan Albarado was still alive.

Barely.

The fluorescent lights above cast a dull glow across the sterile white walls. A single chair sat beside Ethan’s hospital bed the sheets tucked neatly, IV line running to his arm, oxygen mask resting over his mouth.

And in that chair sat Lucas Graves.

The others had left hours ago. Ayumi, her eyes puffy and voice broken.

Charlotte, who couldn’t stop shaking until Louie held her.

Evan, Brandon, Ryan, Aiden, Kai, Jeremy, Josh, Coonie... all of them devastated. Torn.

But now, only Lucas remained.

Even Louie, who had insisted earlier with tears in his voice —

"Let me stay with him tonight... I need to—"

But Lucas had simply looked him in the eye.

And said softly—

"...Let me. This time."

Louie froze.

The tone wasn’t forceful.

It wasn’t even commanding.

But there was something in Lucas’s eyes that made him step back without another word.

Pain. Love. Resolve.

Louie just nodded, voice caught in his throat.

And left.

Now, the room was silent again.

Lucas leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at Ethan’s still face.

His voice cracked as he whispered:

"...You really had to do that, huh? Push me out of the way. Again."

He sniffed, brushing his nose with his wrist.

"I was supposed to protect you this time. Not the other way around."

The machines beeped on.

The outside world was asleep.

But Lucas’s heart thudded heavy, slow, broken.

He remembered the blood.

The scream.

The limp body in his arms.

"You promised me..." he muttered.

"You said we’d fight in the Nationals together."

His fists trembled on his knees.

"...You idiot."

Then his voice cracked —

Just once.

"So come on, wake up... Ethan."

He leaned back, eyes glassy, throat dry.

No answer.

Just the sound of machines keeping Ethan alive.

But in the silence...

Lucas didn’t leave.

He didn’t even blink much.

He just... sat.

Watching.

Waiting.

Because in his heart battered and tired as it was one truth remained:

If Ethan could fight for all of them...

Then Lucas would stay here, and fight for him.

Even if it meant just sitting through the dark.

To be continue