Aoi's POV
I always thought grief had a sound.
A crack. A sob. A silence too loud.
But sitting here next to Sora—sketchbooks spread out, court diagrams between us, Mirai's name hovering like a ghost we've both stopped chasing—I realize something:
Grief can be quiet.
And purpose?
It can be born in the stillness.
Sora's POV
She hands me a pencil.
Not with ceremony. Not with pressure.
Just slides it across the table like we've done this a hundred times.
Like we're co-authors.
And for the first time, I draw something with her instead of beside her.
A new formation. Clean. Fluid.
Less about power.
More about rhythm.
Movement as memory.
Aoi's POV
Sora's ideas aren't technical.
They're instinctive.
She's not a player, but she understands motion—body angles, gaps in patterns, how light falls across a court at 4PM and changes your read on a ball.
It's strange.
She doesn't play like Mirai.
But she thinks like her.
Tanaka's POV
I find them working in the clubroom.
No yelling. No sarcasm. No passive-aggressive footnotes.
Just calm voices, clipped laughter, highlighters and tape and court stencils.
It's almost unsettling.
I hold up my phone like a wildlife photographer.
"Rare sighting," I whisper. "Kaimei's coldest war… now a climate of cautious peace."
Neither of them looks up.
But Sora mutters, "Shut up, Tanaka."
And Aoi tosses an eraser at my head.
I grin.
We're healing.
Haru's POV
At practice, Aoi surprises me.
She doesn't dominate.
She delegates.
She doesn't lead with fire.
She leads with flow.
And when she asks Sora to film from the sideline and give feedback?
That's when I know it's real.
They're not just patching over Mirai's absence anymore.
They're building something new.
Together.
Final Scene – Aoi's POV
I find Sora sketching alone again—this time, not in shadows, but near the sunlight pouring in from the gym's side window.
She's drawing a doubles formation.
One that doesn't rely on Mirai's angles.
One that uses mine.
She looks up as I sit beside her.
"You think it'll work?" she asks.
I nod.
Because for the first time…
It's not about what we lost.
It's about what we're making next.