Part- 408:

  James stood on the edge of the bustling campus, the chaos around him. Students hurried between csses, ughter eg from distant ers as friends exged stories, and the occasional shout broke through the chatter of the crowd. He was used to this vibrant energy by now, but today, somethi different. There was a subtle tension in the air — the kind that came from the influx of extracurricur clubs eager to recruit new members. He could see them everywhere: tables lined with flyers, enthusiastic leaders trying to vince passersby to join their causes.

  James couldn’t help but feel a little detached from all of it. He’d beeing plenty of attention from the martial arts clubs tely, which had all but bee a sed home for him. His ret success in Judo had turned him into something of a major celebrity on campus, so it was no surprise that he was being courted by every fighting club in the school. Today, though, he was just here to clear his mind and enjoy the retive calm of being alone. He wasn’t actively seeking anything new, and he had no i in diving into another sport — at least, not today.

  That was wheiced two figures walking toward him, oall and the other a little shorter, both of them clearly making a beeline in his dire. James felt a twinge of curiosity but didn’t think much of it. He wasn’t in the mood for another recruiting pitch, so he turned his attention back to the crowd.

  But then, the taller of the two called out. “Hey, James!” Kiyoshi called, waving. “Got a minute?”

  James looked up, slightly a the interruption. "What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Are you ied in joining our team?" The voice was friendly, almost too eager. James blinked, momentarily taken aback.

  He frowned slightly, trying to process the question. “Anhting club?” he asked, his tone hinting at annoyance. He was already part of Judo, and that was more than enough bat for him. It was starting to feel like every other club on campus wanted him in their ranks just because of his size, but he wasn’t about to be lured into some random fight club.

  Both of them stopped, and James could see the fusion fshing in their expressions. The girl, who seemed to be the more enthusiastic of the two, quickly corrected him. "We’re not a fighting club," she said, almost ughing at his assumption. "We’re the basketball club!"

  For a moment, James was silent, abs the new information. Basketball? He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It wasn’t somethiively pursued, but he had shot a few hoops here and there, just for fun. Nothing serious. A faint memory of sinking a shot in a kid’s street match a few days ago floated to the surface, and he found himself w what it would be like to do it again. The challenge didn’t seem so bad.