The gym fell quiet as Qing Junce and Kaede Rukawa stepped onto the court.
Everyone else stood on the sidelines, eyes fixed on the two as tension buzzed in the air.
Kogure Kiminobu, curiosity written all over his face, turned to Akagi. "Akagi, who do you think is going to win?"
Akagi was silent for a moment, then said slowly, "Hard to say. Those two aren't exactly predictable."
First-year Kuwata Toki chimed in. "I'd bet on Rukawa. He's a super rookie, after all."
His classmates Yamada Tadashi and Iishi Kentaro nodded in agreement. They were from Rukawa's class and had seen what he could do.
Ayako, however, had a different view. "Not necessarily. Rukawa's strong, but Qing Junce… there's something special about him."
She turned to Kanon, who stood beside her. "What do you think, Kanon?"
Kanon smiled with quiet confidence. "Ace won't lose."
Her tone was firm. No hesitation.
Ayako raised an eyebrow. "You're that sure?"
"Of course. He's never lost — not once."
She wasn't exaggerating. Kanon had once seen Qing Junce take down five grown men in a streetball game. Since that day, she'd known: her childhood friend was on a different level.
Sakuragi Hanamichi, meanwhile, stood off to the side with his arms crossed, glaring at the two on the court.
Hmph. A couple of show-offs trying to steal the spotlight.
But then a wicked grin spread across his face. He'd just had an idea.
On the Court
Qing Junce and Rukawa faced each other at center court.
Rukawa broke the silence. "Who starts?"
Junce shrugged. "You go. I don't have all day to mess around."
Rukawa frowned, irritation flickering across his face. He didn't respond — just picked up the ball and took his stance.
Junce slouched slightly into a defensive crouch, still wearing that lazy, half-asleep expression.
That only stoked Rukawa's fire. Arrogant bastard.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The sound of the basketball echoed through the gym as Rukawa began to dribble, eyes locked on his opponent like a hawk sizing up prey.
Everyone held their breath.
Suddenly — BOOM — Rukawa switched the ball to his left and exploded forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
In a blink, he slipped past Qing Junce's right side, his shoulder almost brushing him.
So fast!
Spectators widened their eyes in awe.
But then—
SMACK.
A soft, clean sound rang out — not loud, but sharp and unmistakable.
And then…
Kaede Rukawa froze.
His hands were empty.
The ball was gone.
He turned his head slowly, stunned.
Behind him, Qing Junce stood with the basketball in his hand, looking just as relaxed as ever.
Rukawa stared in disbelief. When did he—?
He hadn't even seen the steal happen.
Kogure was the first to gasp. "What just happened…?"
Even Akagi looked rattled. He hadn't noticed the interception either.
Ayako clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "No way! I was watching him! How did I miss it?!"
It was just too fast.
They hadn't seen it — not a single movement.
Junce, without a word, turned, raised the ball casually with one hand, and flicked it toward the hoop.
The shot looked lazy. Careless, even.
THUNK… swish.
Off the backboard, into the net.
Everyone stared, stunned into silence.
Junce looked at Rukawa. "One point. Let's keep going."
Rukawa didn't reply.
He just picked up the ball, face grim, and returned to the three-point line.
His movements were sharper now. More focused.
He squared up again, locking eyes with Qing Junce.
I need to find an opening…
But that was the problem.
Qing Junce's posture was so slack and unguarded, it was too full of holes — and somehow, none of them felt real.
Damn… there's nothing to trust.
Then — before Rukawa could act — Qing Junce moved.
Whoosh!
In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Rukawa.
What the—?
Rukawa's body tensed. He instinctively tried to shield the ball—
But his hands were already empty.
Another steal.
Before he could react, Qing Junce had zipped around his left and circled back to the right, already halfway to the basket.
The motion was so fluid, it looked like a choreographed routine.
Everyone watching saw the same thing: a blur darting around Rukawa, gliding through the air like water flowing over stone.
By the time they processed what happened, Junce was already at the basket.
He lifted the ball with one hand, ready for the layup…
But then—
His eyes flashed.
He stopped, mid-motion, and pulled the ball back.
FWIP!
A second ball flew past where his had just been — barely missing.
He flicked his wrist, adjusted in the air, and banked the ball in with perfect control.
Swish.
Another basket.
But Qing Junce wasn't looking at the hoop.
He turned his head — toward Sakuragi Hanamichi.
Everyone followed his gaze.
Sakuragi stood off to the side, holding another ball and trying to act innocent.
"Hehehe… sorry. My hand slipped."
Qing Junce stared at him silently, then turned back to Rukawa.
"Again."
Rukawa, as usual, didn't bother with Sakuragi's antics.
Neither did Junce.
They were locked in now.
The third round was about to begin.