Chapter 13 - Basketball with Sharingan (Part 1)

As if the pressure wasn't enough, the system presented me with a new quest.

Since it was a minor quest of little importance, I normally wouldn't bother to win a simple basketball game. However, one of the rewards was an "Omniversal Anime Travel Ticket".

When I asked what exactly it was, the system told me that it was a travel ticket that allowed me to travel for free to the universe of an anime of my choice, but my stay there was limited to one week, which was a break time in all the Marvel universes.

Even though it was only for seven days, that time in an anime world was enough for me to do a lot of things.

In addition, according to the system, in the future, for more difficult and dangerous quests, I could get Omniverse Travel Super Tickets, which could let me stay up to 6 months in one world of the Omniverse. There were also Infinite Omniverse Travel Tickets that made universes available to me forever.

There were so many possibilities that I felt a little lost.

For now, I just had to do my best and win the basketball game.

"Come on, guys, it's now or never. This is our moment. I want to see each and every one of you give it everything you've got on the court. They're not going to take it easy, so you can't either," the coach said.

There was a collective response, a cry of "Yes, sir!"

All the players were ready, or at least they seemed to be. I, on the other hand, felt like an imposter, trying to convince myself that I could do it.

We walked in a line to the gym, where the sound of the crowd in the stands indicated that the crowd was excited. As we entered the court, the crowd applauded us and I was a little dismayed.

I looked up at the bleachers and, as expected, saw Gwen and the other girls from the night before sitting together, but this time there was one more person who couldn't make it to karaoke night: Mary Jane. With her red hair, she looked excited and sang along with the other girls.

'I shook my head and looked away from her. No, leave MJ alone, at least in this universe, Lucas.' I thought.

Warm up started, and we spread out on the court to practice some shots. I grabbed a ball and headed for the three-point line, trying to remember the basics.

Right... Hand in the middle, knees bent and moderate power.

I remembered the basic lessons I'd learned about basketball my freshman year of high school. But, as anyone could easily deduce from my knowledge of several works of fiction, I was no model athlete. So when I threw the ball, it hit the rim of the hoop and bounced out. I looked around, trying to cover up my mistake, but no one seemed to notice except the coach.

"Lucas, are you okay?" He asked as he walked up to me. "You don't usually make mistakes this big."

"Yeah, I just... didn't sleep very well. I think I'm a little off today."

"You're not feeling confident, are you?"

I hesitated before answering. "Not much, to be honest."

The coach sighed, but instead of criticizing me, he nodded slowly. "I understand. But remember one thing, Lucas: you're still better than most of the players we have on the bench. See for yourself."

I looked in the direction he was pointing and saw the reserves. Most of them wore expressions of boredom or indifference. Some were distracted, fiddling with their cell phones or talking to each other. This didn't excite me, but made me more afraid of ruining everything. Still, if people were counting on me, I'd try not to disappoint them.

"You're playing wing today. Stay focused. We don't need you to make every basket, but we need you to play with the team like you know how. I trust you, kid."

"Thanks, coach."

At least this coach was nice and believed in me, because the coach at my real school in real life looked at me funny every time he passed me in the hallways.

The game started with a throw-in, and Flash jumped high to get the ball. As I watched my teammates move, I stepped forward and Flash threw the ball right to me.

Instinctively, I caught it and, without thinking too much, I looked at the basket and started running.

*Piii* A whistle blew beside me.

"Run!" said the referee, a big man in the middle of the court.

"Hayes, what are you doing? Three steps, just three steps!" The coach yelled.

'Oh, I forgot, I'm not supposed to take more than three steps with the ball in basketball…' I thought as a bead of sweat ran down my forehead, and then I yelled: "Wrong!"

The next play was fast. The opposing team exchanged passes effectively, and soon one of the players threw the ball toward our basket. The basket was clean and they scored the first two points of the game.

When we came back on offense, Flash passed the ball to me again. I needed to redeem myself, but the fear of making another mistake was paralyzing with so many eyes judging me all the time. I started hitting the ball on the ground, trying to focus on the basics, but soon found myself surrounded by two opposing players. I looked around, desperately looking for a way out.

"Lucas, over here!" Flash shouted, but the ball was already out of my hands, intercepted by an opponent heading for our basket.

Two more points for their team.

"Damn it, Hayes! Are you asleep? Wake up, kid!"

The game went on, and with every mistake I made, I felt the weight of the team's expectations crushing me even more. And if I didn't do anything, I'd not only ruin it for everyone, I'd be largely responsible for the loss.

Well, that didn't have to happen. I had the Sharingan. Yes, I know it was a bit unfair to use it against normal people, but it was still better to see strangers sad than those I knew. I just had to concentrate on disguising myself very well so that no one would see my eyes, especially Gwen, or she would recognize me from the night before.

Before I did, I looked at the coach, who was still angry on the sidelines, and at my teammates on the court, who were trying to stay calm despite the mistakes I was making.

'I have to do this.'

That was when I activated the Sharingan. The change in my perspective of the world around me was immediate. The colors in the world around me became clearer, and the players' movements seemed slower, as if I had been given extra time to process everything.

I watched the other players more closely, focusing on Flash's movements and those of his opponents. Every detail, every micro-movement of theirs began to be picked up by my Sharingan. Dribbling, shooting, and intercepting weren't that difficult, not when I could literally copy the best players on the court in all the fundamentals and become the amalgamation of them all.

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