Moriyama and Wymack set up their starting lines near their respective doors and waited. The Foxes' three subs went down the line, cracking racquets with their teammates and offering tight, tense smiles.

"For the Foxes, tonight's starting line-up," the announcer said. "Number two, Kevin Day."

Anything else he might have said was swallowed up by the crowd. Kevin ignored the ecstatic roar and stepped onto the court. Neil's knuckles popped as he clenched his fingers tighter around his racquet.

"Number ten, Neil Josten," the announcer said.

"Five points," Wymack said.

Neil sighed and stepped through the door. He went to his spot on half-court line and turned to watch as his teammates entered the court. Allison was the starting dealer, and Nicky and Renee were on as the Foxes' starting backliners. Andrew was the last one on for the team and he got comfortable in goal.

Neil didn't hear Riko's name, but he heard the crowd react. Riko strode onto the Foxhole Court like he owned the stadium. Instead of taking his spot, however, he stopped at Kevin's side. He took his helmet off, but the cheers echoing off the court walls drowned out whatever he was saying. Kevin unstrapped his own helmet and hooked it over his fingers as he answered. Riko said nothing else, seemingly content to stare Kevin down as the rest of the Ravens took the court.

When the Raven goalkeeper was in place and the referees moved into the court doors to check the teams, Riko finally moved. Neil was sure every Fox tensed when Riko reached for Kevin, but all Riko did was wind an arm around Kevin's shoulders and pull him into a short hug.

The crowd's response was ecstatic and deafening. Riko let go after just a second and walked down half-court to his place. Kevin stood frozen a few seconds longer. The unmistakable crash of a racquet against the court wall snapped him out of it and Kevin jerked around to look back at Andrew. Andrew beat his racquet against the goal a second time in warning. Kevin got the hint and yanked his helmet on.

The head referee waited until Kevin lifted his stick in an okay, then walked to the Raven dealer and handed over a ball. He left the court, and the referees bolted both doors closed.

Neil closed his eyes and breathed. He locked away everything he was, burying his father and Nathaniel and the Moriyamas into a mental safe for later. He didn't need or want any of that right now. All that mattered was this game: the racquet in his hands, the Ravens' goal, and the clock counting down seconds to serve overhead. He wasn't Neil right now. He wasn't anything or anyone but a Fox, and he had a game to play.