"That guy? Forget him. He's got a ticket to Argentina tomorrow. I'll have someone toss him into the Shinano River before he even gets on the plane."
Back to her usual calm self, Araki spoke as if ordering lunch.
The speed at which her expression changed was terrifying, making Kota break into a cold sweat. But it was the second half of her sentence that truly sent shivers down his spine.
"Hey, hey, you can't just casually talk about dumping people into rivers!Five minutes ago you were crying on my shoulder—don't switch to mob boss mode that fast!"
After much brain-racking persuasion on Kota's part, Araki had successfully transferred all her hatred for him onto the poor "National Youth No.1" kid instead.
And Kota was sure — Araki hadn't been joking. She meant every word.
"Uh… yeah, that guy's definitely annoying, but killing him might be a bit much."
Kota hesitated before speaking up for the kid. After all, the most he'd done was trip Kota up in his job hunt—not exactly a death penalty offense.
Araki raised an eyebrow. "So… you're saying we let him off?"
"Of course not!"
Kota shook his head without hesitation. What kind of joke was that? Sure, he didn't deserve to die, but after dragging Kota down like that, the guy definitely needed a lesson.
People have to pay for their actions.
"He's flying to Argentina, right? Let's confiscate all his money, put him on the plane anyway… or wait — how about switching his ticket and sending him to Indonesia instead?"
Araki: "…"
"For a second there, I actually thought you had a good heart. My mistake."
She rolled her eyes at Kota. At this point, there was no sign left that she'd been crying earlier.
"By the way, Miss Masako—my clothes are soaked thanks to you. Don't you have anything to say to me?"
Kota smirked mischievously, the warmer atmosphere giving him the mood to start teasing.
Araki's cheeks flushed slightly. She glanced at Kota's smug smile, lowered her head in embarrassment—
None of that happened.
Instead, she casually raised her right hand, producing a massive katana from God-knows-where, and rested the blade against his neck.
"Tell anyone and I'll cut you down."
Kota: "…"
Yep, that's definitely more like her.
He gave a sheepish grin, lightly pushed the blade away, and sidestepped out of her "kill range".
"Oh? Looks like the rain stopped."
Glancing toward the door, Kota noticed the "drip-drip" of raindrops had vanished.
"It's getting late. I'll be heading back now, Miss Masako. Wouldn't want to run into troublemakers on the way home."
Popping the last piece of cold steak into his mouth, Kota headed for the exit.
Sitting at the table, Araki watched his back as he left, hesitation flickering in her eyes.
"Hey, you wanna—"
"See you"
Hand already on the gym door, Kota turned, gave her a playful wave, and asked,
"Hmm? You got something you wanted to tell me?"
"…Nothing. Stay safe on the way."
And just like that—night passed without incident.
Next Morning — Tokyo Airport
National Youth No.1 stepped out of a taxi, face covered with a mask and sunglasses, wrapped up like he was in witness protection. He scanned the area carefully—no suspicious figures in sight. He breathed a sigh of relief.
There's no way even the Araki family could have tracked him here.
After leaving the court yesterday, he had gone straight to the Basketball Association to hand over his notebook to President, then rushed to a private apartment—didn't even go home. And now, with the first flight out, he was heading to the opposite side of the planet—Argentina.
No matter how powerful Araki was in Japan, she couldn't touch him there.
Smiling at his own genius, he reached the counter and handed over his ticket.
"Good morning, sir," the clerk greeted him with a professional smile. As she glanced at his ticket, her pupils shrank slightly, and her grin widened.
"Do you have any luggage to check in?"
Was it his imagination, or did her voice sound… cheerful?
"Yes" he replied, placing his suitcase on the counter. It held everything he owned for his "new life" in Argentina.
"Have a nice trip, sir."
As soon as his back was turned, her smile vanished. She reached for a walkie-talkie.
"Target has appeared. He's cleared security. Repeat—target has cleared security."
A deep male voice crackled back through the static: "Copy".
Meanwhile, National Youth No.1 was passing through the empty security checkpoint—it was so early, he seemed to be the only passenger in the whole airport.
"Ding! Flight JA—xxxxx is now boarding. Please proceed to the gate."
It's time!
Keeping a wary eye on his surroundings all the way to the plane, he half-expected a swarm of men in black to leap out at any moment. But nothing happened.
Finding his seat, fastening his belt, he finally relaxed. Exhaustion hit him like a wave—ever since handing over that notebook, he'd been on edge, too afraid to even close his eyes at night.
At last, he could rest.
Slowly, he drifted into sleep.
"Ding! Welcome aboard flight JA—xxxx, direct to… Indonesia. Estimated travel time: thirty-five hours—"
The announcement continued, but our dear National Youth No.1 was already snoring. His suitcase, ID, and phone? All tossed into an incinerator.
A bright future awaited him… in Indonesia.
...
One week had passed since Kaijo claimed the Winter Cup. Graduation season had arrived, and along with the departing seniors, many teams were losing their veteran players.
"Kasamatsu-senpai!!!"
Inside Kaijo's gym, players tearfully bid farewell to Kasamatsu. Kota and Kise each clung to one of his arms, crying like abandoned puppies.
"Alright, you punks—if I come back next year and don't see that championship trophy, I'll come after each of you!"
Kasamatsu tried to sound threatening, but with these two idiots hanging on him, it was hard to look intimidating.
"Kasamatsu-senpai!!!"
Hearing that familiar tone only made the tears flow harder. Sure, they'd already had a farewell ceremony, but actually saying goodbye was a whole different story.
Rakuzan High — Rooftop
"Aren't you going to the farewell party, Mayuzumi-senpai?"
Akashi smiled warmly at the lone figure crouched by the railing.To Akashi, this "discount version of Kuroko" was far more than just a knockoff.
"I still prefer you just call me by my name, Akashi."
Mayuzumi gave a faint smile. "Nah, that kind of atmosphere isn't my thing. Besides, I'm not exactly popular with the team."
In powerhouse Rakuzan, being the quiet starter with no flashy presence didn't earn you much attention.
"Don't say that, senpai."
Akashi's tone grew serious. He bowed deeply.
"Thank you for everything, Mayuzumi-senpai. I'm sorry we couldn't get you that last championship before graduation."
"…Yeah."
Shutoku High — Gym
"This is bad. Other schools are keeping at least three starters, but us? They're all gone!"
Takao slumped against the basketball stand while Midorima calmly checked his morning horoscope.
"Oi, Shin-chan, are you even listening?"
This year's starting lineup had been their best shot at the title—until they ran into Akashi in the quarterfinals.
"The road ahead… is long."
Too Academy — Gym
Aomine scowled, doing the most basic chest passes with Wakamatsu—his new captain after Imayoshi graduated.
With the captaincy came responsibility, and Wakamatsu now saw Aomine less as a problem child and more as an unreliable but talented "ace."
"What the hell, Aomine?! How does a chest pass end up at my feet?! Are you even trying?"
"Shut up, you idiot! Just catch it quietly!"
"What was that? You looking for a fight?!"
From the sidelines, Momoi watched nervously. Ever since Wakamatsu became captain, he and Aomine argued even more—but somehow, their teamwork seemed… better? Next year's Too might actually have potential—if Aomine learns to pass.
Yosen High — Yako's Office
"What is it, Himuro?"
"Please, coach! I want to get stronger! We can't win with just Murasakibara!"
His voice was filled with determination. Ever since seeing Kagami's growth, Himuro's desire for strength had only grown.
Araki stroked her chin thoughtfully.
"After winter break, come to Shark Gym. I'll introduce you to someone who might be able to help."
"Got it!"
Meanwhile, across campus, Murasakibara skipped practice again, lying back in a chair eating popsicles.
Life's funny like that—what some treasure, others couldn't care less about.
Unlike the other top teams, Rakuzan, Kaijo, Shutoku, Too, and Yosen, Seirin's starting five were all second-years — except for Kiyoshi, who'd be temporarily leaving for medical treatment overseas, but would return in time for the Interhigh.
"So next year, we'll have the advantage! That's when we'll go after Kaijo for revenge!"
Riko, hands on her hips and whistle in her mouth, set the goal for the year.
Seirin's players were fired up. They'd proven their strength against Japan's best — already beating Rakuzan once.
Kuroko smiled quietly. The championship wasn't his main goal — bringing the Generation of Miracles back to their old selves was. Now, all that was left was to help Kagami become Japan's No.1 high school player.
Kagami, however, wasn't smiling. Losing the finals and getting scored on by Kota's last shot still stung. That night, he rewatched game footage on repeat, trying to unlock the secret of Kota's footwork. The dark circles under his eyes grew heavier.
"Next year… I'll win."
His vow was interrupted by Riko's sharp whistle.
"Don't just stand there! Time to train!"
Pushing up her glasses, she grinned. "Kagami, extra three-point practice for you today."
"Huh? Me?!"
"Yup. Your offense is missing one thing—a three-pointer."
"But my accuracy's under 20%!"
"Exactly. So start shooting!"
Grumbling, Kagami headed to the arc to begin another day of brick-laying.