“You know, Salman, you might actually have a point.” He even conceded it! "Historically speaking, Banani High probably isn't exactly famous for its… explosive offense, let's be real."
He paused again, dragging out the moment, building up the suspense like he was about to drop a major plot twist. He locked eyes with Salman, holding his gaze steady, no blinking, just pure, unwavering confidence radiating from him.
And then he dropped it.
The cryptic line, the carefully calcuted response, designed to pnt a tiny seed of doubt in Salman’s overconfident brain. “But that’s exactly why,” Kiyoshi continued, his smile now morphing into something that hinted at a secret, like he knew something Salman didn’t, “we decided to bring in a… special guy to py Shooting Guard for this game.” He emphasized "special guy" just enough to make it hang in the air, loaded with unspoken meaning.
Salman actually blinked. Like, genuinely blinked.
For the first time, his cocky swagger seemed to wobble a little. That smirk of his? It wavered, just for a second, repced by this flicker of pure, unadulterated puzzlement. 'Special guy? Shooting Guard?' His brain started whirring.
He did a quick mental scan of the Banani High pyers he could see, trying to spot this mysterious ‘special guy.’ He’d done his homework, scouted their team, knew their usual lineup, their usual positions. He was pretty sure he knew who everyone was.
And he definitely hadn’t seen anyone particurly… special in their previous games. Especially not at shooting guard. That position was usually filled by… well, nobody remarkable.
“Special guy?” Salman repeated, and you could hear a tiny crack in his confident voice. He was genuinely curious, but he was trying so hard to py it cool, to act like he wasn’t bothered. He quickly covered it up with a dismissive shrug and a chuckle.
“What, did you guys unearth some… secret weapon from the depths of your school library or something?” He tried to ugh it off, trying to get back to that superior attitude, but the ughter sounded a bit forced, a bit hollow this time. It wasn't quite nding the way it was supposed to.
Kiyoshi just kept that mysterious smile pstered on his face, not giving away a single extra detail.
No expnation, no hints, nothing. He’d dropped the bomb, pnted the seed of doubt, and now he was just going to let it grow and fester in Salman’s brain. The mystery of this ‘special guy’ at shooting guard was way more effective than any trash talk or defensive argument he could have come up with.
Less is definitely more, right?
“Maybe,” Kiyoshi replied, his voice all ambiguous and mysterious, like he was holding all the cards and Salman was just pying checkers. He wanted to leave Salman hanging, wondering, second-guessing everything. Maybe even feeling a tiny shiver of unease.
“You’ll see for yourself, Salman. Very soon.” He gave another one of those calm, confident nods – the kind that just screams 'I know something you don't' – and then turned his back on Salman.
He walked straight back to his team for their final huddle, leaving Salman standing there, slightly stunned, his usual cocky vibe definitely a bit ruffled around the edges. Mic drop moment, without actually dropping a mic.
