The result of the game was never in doubt.
In the second half, Teikō started playing purely based on individual ability.
It seemed that Shirogane Kōzō had also realized: with a full deck of SSR-level players, there was no need to complicate things—just let them loose.
No matter what kind of opponent they faced, Teikō always found a way to break through.
And even if they didn't, Tendou—their ace—could carve a path for them with brute force.
After the match, Imayoshi Shōichi came over to shake hands with Tendou.
Now a third-year, Imayoshi would be moving on to high school next year and had already accepted a lucrative offer from Tōō Academy. He'd officially join them next year.
Imayoshi didn't know where Tendou planned to go for high school, but he'd heard that Katsunori Harasawa had been the first to approach him, starting from the preliminary rounds.
Given that this boy might one day be his teammate—or even the core of his future team—Imayoshi, ever the smooth talker, figured it was wise to build rapport now.
"Congrats in advance on winning the championship," he said.
"If we hadn't run into you, we might've at least made it to second place."
Tendou couldn't tell whether he was being sincere—Imayoshi's scheming nature was infamous throughout Kuroko no Basket.
"Well, a loss is a loss. At least going home early means more time to go fishing."
In the basketball world, "fishing" isn't literal—it means getting knocked out.
Though admittedly, some NBA stars did enjoy actual fishing once eliminated.
Paul George, for one, was quite experienced.
And just like that, Teikō advanced to the Final Four. Their next opponent, two days later, would be Kyoto's top-seeded local team—blessed with lucky draws all tournament.
After the game, several high school coaches came to speak with Tendou, inviting him to join their basketball programs after graduation. The offers were generous—whatever conditions he wanted, they were willing to meet.
This wasn't the NBA—there was no draft, no tanking, no gambling on lottery picks.
And even if there were a draft, it was still a gamble—you never knew if the kid you picked would be a bust.
But Tendou? He was a guaranteed win. His current skill level was already more than enough for high school competition.
In other words: landing Tendou was hitting the jackpot.
So naturally, all the top schools were treating him like royalty.
Tendou's response was the same as always: no acceptance, no refusal, no commitment.
Amanai Riko: "Tch. Player."
She never missed a chance to mock Tendou's aloof attitude.
"I'm not pretending to be mysterious," Tendou replied. "It's still two years until I graduate."
"Ask me again when I'm at the end of my second year."
Second year of middle school…
When Riko heard that phrase, her mood suddenly dropped.
She turned off her favorite Qiong Yao drama, got up, and quietly closed her bedroom door behind her.
Tendou watched her back and shook his head, turning around to pull another lottery spin.
...
Two Days Later.
In the semifinals, Teikō still didn't encounter any real resistance—in fact, it was even easier than the previous match.
Even with the advantage of playing at home, Kyoto's number one seed couldn't handle Teikō's strength. They managed to hold on for one half, but in the third quarter, Teikō unleashed a 15–4 run that shattered them.
From that point on, there was no one left who could stop Teikō.
They were just one win away from the championship.
And the whole team was determined to take the title.
Even though Shirogane Kōzō hadn't scheduled any practices, the boys stayed behind at the basketball club, training on their own.
"You're still here, Yūta?"
"Put some respect on it and call me 'senpai,' would you?"
It was evening at the Teikō basketball gym. Yamanada Yūta and many other third-years were still working hard.
"What's the point of going that hard? You barely get any playing time anyway," Murasakibara said lazily, tossing the ball into the hoop.
He'd been ready to go home once practice ended, but seeing everyone else still there, he reluctantly stayed behind too.
"Could you maybe be a little more tactful?" Tendou shot Murasakibara a look. "That was brutally honest."
I think what you just said was worse… Yamanada sighed to himself.
He glanced over at Tendou, remembering when he first joined the basketball team—back when he still dreamed of cracking the Teikō starting lineup.
Now, he could only sit on the bench and wait for a chance to play.
And the junior he'd once intended to "whip into shape" had become a nationwide superstar—the Teikō Devil Star.
Yamanada had long given up on competing with Tendou.
Now, he just hoped to contribute something in the final match.
People always say hard work doesn't lie—but in front of true genius, hard work often feels powerless.
Especially in basketball.
He'd watched Tendou improve at a terrifying pace, and the feelings in his heart were complicated.
Just a few days ago in a practice match, Yamanada had finally mastered a reliable stop-and-pop jumper.
But against Tendou, he hadn't even been able to get a shot off.
His teammates had teased him, saying, "Give it up, Yūta—no one can shoot easily with Tendou guarding them."
All he could do was laugh it off, scratching his head.
But inside, he'd been crushed.
Did he resent Tendou?
Not at all.
Aside from being a bit mouthy, Tendou was an excellent teammate.
Everyone in the club liked him—including Yamanada.
Not just because he was strong—he had a certain charm.
Yamanada knew he probably wouldn't get much playing time in the final.
But if he just stood by and collected a free championship ring, he wouldn't feel right about it.
"If I don't do anything and still walk away with a title, how am I supposed to tell anyone I was part of Teikō basketball?"
"Uh…" Tendou and Murasakibara both sobered up, sensing the sincerity in their senpai's words.
"To meet you guys in my final year of middle school—that's both a blessing and a curse."
Murasakibara scratched his head awkwardly. "Um… Yūta-senpai, I didn't mean—"
"I know you didn't," Yamanada waved him off. "As your senpai, I'm not that petty."
"Tendou, Murasakibara—you both have talents far beyond ours. So no matter what hardships you face down the road… don't ever give up easily."
"Otherwise, all of my effort will feel like a joke."
...
The mood had gotten a bit heavy.
Later, on the walk home...
Out of nowhere, Murasakibara muttered, "Hey, Ten-chan."
"What?"
"Basketball... it kinda seems fun."