a/n; Ibuki, and Matatagi are my favorite Galaxy boys, so I've thrown them into a story together! I hope you all like it!

Also note that this takes place in an alternate universe, so, Ibuki and Matatagi never joined New Inazuma Japan and attend the same academy! Also 'Ms. Akiyama' is an oc I made just for this story;;

The reverberating sound of a basketball bouncing in opposition to the gym's hardwood flooring rung throughout the empty, spacious area. There was an annoying squeak of his sneakers as he reached the key, and came to a sharp halt. There was no room for error, or break, and the basketball player positioned the ball in his 'shot pocket' located on his shooting side, shy a few inches above his torso. At almost breakneck speed, he glided the ball upwards in a fluid motion as he bent his knees and took up for a jump, just as the ball flew past eye-level it was released swiftly from his hold. His elbow was straightened, and he snapped his wrist forward causing the ball to go flying in the air.

As beads of sweat fell from the muscles on his arms, he was landed perfectly on his feet and the ball he just accelerated to the basket went in perfectly, not having to roll around the rim before landing in; a simple, ace shot. The basketball fell to the ground with a couple of bounces, and he recoiled back from his spot and caught the ricocheting ball. He looped the ball under his arm, resting it comfortably on his hip before an applaud was given to him, and he turned around, shocked slightly; he didn't think anyone else was here.

"Ibuki-kun, that shot was really well done!" you chimed, hands clapping together excitedly. You had just entered the gym, and judging by his surprised expression you knew he hadn't heard the large, metal doors shut behind you; they did cause quite a clatter, but this was Ibuki we were talking about. Once he focuses on something, there's no gaining his attention.

He creased his brows, head cocking to the side a bit in the process. "Well, of course. I'm good at this," Ibuki bluntly acknowledged your praise, discreetly grateful to have of earned it from you. You served as the basketball team's manager, and it used to be on rare occasions that you deemed all of your attention on Ibuki, despite him having a particular dislike to that. During practice, games, it's always him doing all the work, yet you found it somewhere in you to encourage everyone in the team.

But that had changed, those occasions had skyrocketed. He had started coming earlier to practice which gave both you, and him more time spent together before the others joined in. The two of you were relatively close, and neither of you cared that you were a year younger than him. If anything, it made a slightly overprotective side spring out of him more at the thought.

You chortled, mumbling under your breath about he should quit trying to be cocky around you, before stalking over to the benches and setting down the cooler that was slung over your shoulder; what a weight lifted that was! "Try not to work up a huge sweat, your towel will be gross before the actual practice." you could tell from your distance that his shirt was already sticking to his tight abs from the sweat he worked up.

"It's nothing. Don't worry," he dismissed it, as always. Ibuki came over to the bench with you, taking a seat whilst picking up the neatly folded towel he had placed on the bench. He roughly wiped the sweat from his face, finding it the most troublesome. He peered over the fabric to espy you briefly checking a couple of the basketballs in the cart, checking that the air pressure was fine.

"Are you going to be okay here? I have something to go discuss with Ms. Akiyama, and some paperwork to do. Tell everyone to do the normal drills, okay? I'll be back soon," you instructed without giving him a choice. You placed the final ball back down in the cart, before giving him a quick wave and leaving the gym.

Striding across through the academy halls, you made your way to Ms. Akiyama's, the basketball coach, classroom. She wasn't exactly a coach per say, but a club needed a teacher to watch over them for it to be official; she was a Physics teacher, and god, she should've just stayed strictly that. Knuckles knocked on the designated classroom door, hearing a holler made you slide the door open and close it behind you.

"You wanted to see me, right?" you inquired, putting forth your best nice-act, since you didn't want to come off as disrespectful at all.

The woman stood from her seat, and you were able to get a glimpse of that tacky pencil-skirt she wore ever day, damn, did you ever hate that. There was a stack of papers cradled in her arms and against her bosom. "I want you finish these before you report back to the team," she demanded, that prissy mannerism of hers coming out extraordinarily well today. Her lips were pursed together as she handed off the papers to you, not taking care if one or two fell from her sloppy work. "Please hurry, by the way. Just leave them on my desk when you're done."

Ms. Akiyama stuck a hair tie between her teeth, carefully pushing back her platinum blonde tresses into a pony, before using the tie to secure it in place. "You got it!" you called as she dismissed herself from the classroom without another word said. The heavy stack of papers were relinquished from your arms as you placed them on a nearby desktop.

You bent over and picked up a few stray papers strewn on the floor, and you heaved a huff. These were the finances of each team member, and the equipment; she told you she'd handle these! "Damn her!"

"Dumping an extra work load on me, who the hell does she think she is?! I manage the equipment, sure, but she handles this stuff, and why am I working on Ibuki-kun's and the rest's payments? I don't understand!" you fumed, a deep grimace twisting on your features as you ramble on loudly, bellowing with anger. You didn't mind doing work, but she always did this. Carelessly tread whatever work she doesn't want to do on you.

"Sensei, Can you please—" a boy halted, fixating his gaze on you in all your rage. That boy was none other than Matatagi Hayato, a member of the track team, and an admirer of sorts. He listened more to you rant on, and on about Ms. Akiyama; and as he did, a plan—not a good one—formed in his head, and he fished out his phone from his track pants...and hit record.

You threw your hands in in the air, unaware of Matatagi behind you, and continued on. "I despise how stuck up she is, how lazy, featherheaded, 'blonde', irritating and obnoxious she is! Why does she have to be in charge of the basketball team, of all teachers?!" you felt like screaming, honestly; but you stopped yourself, and took a deep breath to alleviate the burning in your lungs from your outburst.

"I didn't know you had such a temper, [Last Name]-chan!"

You pivoted on the spot, jarred and wide-eyed from that voice, but once you discerned that phone in his hand, you blanched. "A-Are you filming me?!" you stammered out, a hand coming up to you defensively. Matatagi was in the same grade as you, and you knew him from some classes, and sports events that almost forced teams to come together for. You weren't particularly close with him or anything.

He chuckled, nodding his head, and hitting save on the video. "Yeah; I got the whole thing. You really don't like her, do you?" Matatagi's tone held a hint of sardonic teasing, and he blatantly waved his phone around in front of him, as if to provoke you try and grab it. "I might show her this. I wonder what she'll think?"

"N-No way! If she sees this, I'll lose my position as manager!" all color had completely drained from your face, if you get removed from your spot, how will you see Ibuki? You two don't really interact that much outside of practice, and games.

"Hm, I won't show her if you agree to my condition."

"C-Condition?"

"Be my girlfriend!"

inazuma eleven go (galaxy) © level-5