Haruki Nakamura sat in the back seat of the back row of the classroom, right where the sunlight barely brushed the edge of his desk. His head was down, hidden behind the pages from his favorite manga, "Samurai Spirit Omega X". While the math teacher was talking about quadratic equations, Haruki was immersed in an epic battle between the protagonist and a horde of demons from another dimension. The voices around him were barely a murmur. For him, the institute was nothing more than a place Mandatory between the end of one chapter and the next. He was tall, but hunched over, with glasses that they always slipped down his nose and a backpack with anime pins that no one in class Recognized. Most of the time he went unnoticed, which was good for him. In his world, he was a hero; outside of it, he was just "the weird kid in the background." "Nakamura!" The professor's voice abruptly took him out of his world. Could you repeat the formula What did I just explain? Haruki drew a blank. He closed the set with a soft blow, trying to hide the trembling in his hands. The muffled laughter of his companions did not help. He muttered something incomprehensible and the The teacher sighed, resigned, before continuing. After class, as he walked through the halls with his head down, his best friend, Riku Yamamoto, ran up to him. He was wearing his sports uniform, stained with sweat and energy. "Haruki, come and see me play today!" It's the game against Kurohane High School," he said, bouncing a ball invisible in his hands. Haruki frowned. Basketball? You know that's not my thing... -Let's go! Don't fail me. Also, there's Ami, remember? The team's manager. Maybe it motivates you. The latter did catch Haruki's attention. Ami Takahashi. The girl who was always on the verge of the field, with his notebook and his serene gaze. There was something about her that baffled him and attracted him to the time. They didn't talk, but he knew their schedules, their way of walking, even the scent of their shampoo. After a brief silence, he nodded. "But only because you ask me to..." Hours later, Haruki was on the steps of the gymnasium, surrounded by students Euphoric. The party was in full swing. The speed, the screams, the screeching of the shoes on the court... everything overwhelmed him. I had never been to such a loud and lively sporting event. I watched as the players moved with almost choreographed precision, and how the ball moved it slid through their hands as if it were part of their bodies. But what impacted him the most was Ami. His concentration was absolute. He had a notebook in his hands, where he wrote down things that Haruki could not distinguish. His eyes followed every play with the same intensity with which he followed a climactic fight in his favorite heat. When Riku hit a 3-pointer from the corner, Haruki felt something strange: a spark. For the first time On the other hand, his otaku world wasn't the only thing that caused him excitement. Throughout the match, he couldn't take his eyes off the court. He analyzed the movements, the patterns, the strategy. He realized that his mind was working as when he was solving puzzles in video games or deciphered complex anime plots. Only this was real. Era dynamic. And it was... beautiful. After the match, while Riku was surrounded by teammates who congratulated him, Haruki stayed sitting, in silence. His gaze was fixed on the center of the empty court. "What are you still doing here?" Riku asked, appearing beside him with a bottle of water. ¿Tea Slept? Haruki shook his head slowly. "I'm going to join the basketball team," he said, almost as if it were a divine revelation. Riku looked at him as if he had misheard. -You? Basketball? "Yes," Haruki repeated with more conviction. I want to try. And without knowing it, he had just fired his first shot at the heart of a new destination. That night, Haruki came home with his head full of thoughts. He didn't even turn on his console or opened his favorite manga. He sat down at his desk and opened a blank notebook. On the first page he wrote: "Training - Day 0". Underneath, he drew a basketball court and He began to write down everything he remembered from the match. Players, positions, types of passes, Formations. His mind worked as if he were putting together the strategy for a role-playing game. The next day, he showed up in front of the gym with a knot in his stomach. Coach Daichi He looked up and down, suspicious. "And what do you want?" "I want to join the team," Haruki replied, his voice trembling. The laughter was not long in coming. Some players, including Souta Araki, the captain, let loose mocking laughter. Haruki felt small, insignificant. -You? Seriously? Souta asked, with a raised eyebrow. Do you know what a balloon is? basketball, at least? Haruki swallowed hard and nodded. -I want to learn. The coach looked at him silently for a few seconds. Then he nodded, his arms crossed. -Very well. Tomorrow at 6 a.m. If you're late, forget it. Haruki bowed in awkward bow, thanking him. The next day, the gym was in darkness. Haruki arrived on time, wearing sportswear borrowed from Riku. For the next few weeks, the training was hell: I stumbled, I stumbled, I stumbled, I didn't know what I wanted. he hit with the ball, he could not coordinate the most basic movements. But it was never lacking. Never He gave up. Riku secretly helped him, correcting postures, throwing him soft passes, teaching him how to pivot. Ami watched him from afar, in silence, writing in his notebook. No one understood what I saw in him. But she did notice his evolution. One afternoon, as the sun filtered through the windows of the gym, Haruki managed to score from the three-point line. The ball spun in the air and fell with a clean and beautiful sound. All of them They looked on in silence. Coach Daichi let out a slight smile. Souta frowned. "That was luck," he murmured. But Haruki was no longer the same. Something inside him had awakened. That night, in front of the mirror, he stared at himself. -I'm an otaku... But I can also be a player. And for the first time, he didn't feel that those two things were opposites. The days turned into weeks. Haruki began to notice the changes, not only in his body, but also in his body. but also in his mind. He had stopped seeing training as torture for to turn them into a personal challenge. Every move that didn't go well was like a "game over" that pushed him to try again. It wasn't just for Ami anymore. Now he was doing it for himself. One rainy afternoon, while practicing pitching in solitude, Ami came over. He wore a folder in hand and his expression, as always, was serene. "Your success rate has improved by 23% since last week," he said without preamble. Haruki, drenched in sweat and rain, blinked. -¿You... Do you keep my stats? Ami nodded. -Also those of the rest of the team. But yours are of particular interest to me. Haruki felt his heart beat faster than after a sprint. -Why? She smiled for the first time. A small, barely perceptible smile. -Because you are trying to change. And I don't see that every day. From that moment on, Haruki felt that he had a silent ally. Someone who wasn't just watching him, but also believed in it. During training, Souta continued to put up obstacles. Sometimes I bumped him deliberately. Other times he humiliated him with plays that left him on the ground. But Haruki didn't Responded. He would get up, take a deep breath and try again. Coach Daichi watched everything with his usual impassive expression. But one afternoon, when Haruki stopped a counterattack with a perfect read of the pass, Daichi muttered something that Haruki barely heard: "That boy has instinct. One Saturday morning, Riku took Haruki to a public court. There they found a group of street players. The atmosphere was different: rough, without clear rules, pure instinct. Haruki was thrown into the fire. "What are you doing here, anime kid?" -said one of the players, a huge guy with a tattoo of dragon on the arm. Haruki didn't answer. He just picked up the ball, chipped it three times and started moving. Riku lo He watched from the bench, smiling. It was hard at first, but Haruki began to adapt. His mind analyzed every microgesture, every change of pace. He used strategy as a weapon. In a key moment, he dribbled past two opponents and assisted a teammate with a pass without looking. Screams exploded around. -The geek can play! cried one. That night, Riku accompanied him back home. "I didn't think he would say this, but..." you're getting good, Haruki. Really. "Thank you for not giving up on me," Haruki replied. "I didn't do it for you," Riku joked. I did it so that you stop reading manga in the middle of my matches. They both laughed. Little by little, Haruki joined the team. He was not yet a starter, but he had earned respect silent of many. Souta continued to see him as a threat. Ami, on the other hand, watched him closer and closer. One afternoon, at the end of a grueling workout, she came over and offered him an energy drink. "Thank you," he said, breathing heavily. -You have a strange way of scoring. It's not orthodox, but it's effective," she said. "I learned by watching anime and video games," Haruki admitted. -Then... long live the anime," she replied, and walked away, leaving a trail of surprise in Haruki. When he got home, Haruki lay down on the bed and looked at the ceiling. Sweat still ran down his forehead, but He didn't care. There was something new inside him: determination. "I'm going to become a starter," he whispered. And I'm going to tell you. All. Training intensified as the first practice game approached. The team he needed to evaluate the new members, and although Haruki was still considered a "substitute" experimental," he knew that this would be his opportunity to demonstrate everything he had learned. The gym smelled of wood, sweat and tension. Daichi organized a match between starters and substitutes. Riku was assigned with the substitutes, to balance the teams. Haruki didn't understand if that was a favor or a tougher test. From the first minute, Haruki was overwhelmed. Souta marked him fiercely, intercepted his passes and did not miss an opportunity to make some sarcastic comments. -Do you think that because you have a couple of numbers and drawings in your notebook you can play here? Haruki gritted his teeth. His mind went back to those hours analyzing plays, writing down patterns, watching replays in videos, calculating angles. That was his strength. His brain was his weapon. In the second half, Riku beckoned to him. It was a secretly planned play: a double block which left the left flank free. Haruki cut into space and received the pass. Souta arrived late. Haruki lifted the ball with an unconventional mechanic, but accurate. He scored! The murmur in the gym was different this time. "Well done, Haruki!" Riku shouted. Souta only clenched his fists. Daichi crossed his arms and wrote something down in his notebook. After training, while everyone showered, Haruki stayed on the court. He practiced free kicks. One after the other. Concentrated. Ami walked over with his notebook in his hand. "You're good. But you don't play freely yet," he said, watching him closely. Haruki brought the ball down. -Freedom? -You play as if you want to prove something to everyone. But what if you play just for yourself? That night, Haruki thought about those words. In all the times I'd done things to to fit, to impress. What if I played for the love of the game? Out of passion. By himself. Over the next few days, something changed. He moved more naturally. He improvised. He had fun. And that was noticeable. The team also noticed it. Even Souta noticed it. One Friday, before finishing training, Daichi raised his voice. -Haruki. Starter in the next practice match. The silence was absolute. -It's a joke? asked one of the players. "It is not," Daichi replied sharply. He who trains with his soul, plays. And he's trained like his life depended on it. Haruki didn't know what to say. He just nodded humbly. As he left the gym, Ami was waiting for him. -Do you realize what you did? -What? -Changed. Really. Haruki smiled. -Maybe... anime did teach me something after all. She laughed. "Then show me a good one someday." That day came Saturday. Haruki brought his tablet, and they sat on the empty bleachers of the gym. They played the first episode of "Spirit Samurai Omega X". Ami watched him carefully. I do not know Mocked. He didn't laugh. He just listened and asked questions. Haruki never felt so understood. "It's like you," she said at last. Start with nothing... But it's got something that no one can see until that it is too late. Haruki looked at her. His eyes shone with a mixture of awe and respect. "Thank you for not giving up on me. "I never would," she said. There were only a few days left for the first official match of the year. The gym vibrated with energy. Haruki already He wasn't "the weird otaku." He was part of the team. And he was ready to demonstrate that strategy, passion and heart could shine as brightly as any natural talent. And so, with the uniform on for the first time, Haruki took a deep breath, looked up at the sky, and thought: -This is just the beginning. The night before the match, Haruki couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, his nerves made him Imagine all possible scenarios: miss your first pass, fall to the ground, be substituted. Herself He got up, walked to his desk, and opened one of his old notebooks. Between the pages was a Childish drawing of a child with glasses holding a basketball, surrounded by figures of anime. It was from when I was eight years old. Back then, his father was still home. Remembered vaguely on Saturday mornings, watching games together on TV. That man he always said: "Play is not only strength, it is mind. It's like a full-blown chess game speed." One day, his father left and did not return. Since then, Haruki had closed that door. He took refuge in manga, video games, worlds where the protagonist didn't need physical strength to Winning, only intelligence and heart. And now... basketball was coming back into his life. Strongly. Like I've been waiting quietly all those years. The day of the match arrived. The gym was packed. Parents, students, teachers. The stands vibrated with shouts, chants and applause. The opposing team was tall, fast, aggressive. But Haruki He was not intimidated. Before taking the field, Daichi gathered the team. -Today I don't care if we win or lose. I only want one thing: that they play as they have trained. And Haruki... I trust you. The match began. The first minutes were tough. The ball was moving fast and the pressure was constant. But Haruki stood his ground. He analyzed every move. He anticipated plays. He gave two key assists and stole a ball with an unexpected move that lifted the crowd from their seats. In the second half, with the score tied, Daichi called a time-out. Everyone was panting, except Haruki, whose mind was working at a thousand miles an hour. "We have to break down their zone defense," he said, taking a blackboard. If I feint from the line of three and Riku cuts on the right... The coach gave him the score. -You draw the play. Everyone looked at him in surprise. Haruki, the silent otaku, gave instructions. And he did it with precision. Safely. Like a leader. The move worked. Riku scored with a perfect layup. The audience exploded. In the end, they won by three points. It was not because of a miraculous move, but because of a strategy constant, to adapt, to work as a team. After the match, while everyone was celebrating, Souta came over. His face was serious. "I hate to admit it, but..." You played well. Haruki smiled. -Thank you. You also made me better. Souta nodded once and walked away. Ami appeared with his notebook in his hands. -Your personal rating increased by 32%. But more importantly... Today, you played freely. Haruki looked down, blushing. "It was thanks to you. She denied. -It was thanks to yourself. You just needed to believe it. That night, as he walked back home, Haruki looked up at the sky. The road was just beginning. But he was no longer afraid. Because I had found something that was more beyond manga, anime or matches. He had found his passion. And that... It was only the first chapter.