Ryonan High School Gym
The players from Shohoku and Ryonan stood on opposite sides of the court, lined up and ready for tip-off.
Shohoku's starting five:
Center: Akagi Takenori(#4)
Shooting Guard: Yasuda Yasuharu (#6)
Point Guard: Shiozaki Tetsushi (#8)
Small Forward: Kogure Kiminobu (#5)
Power Forward: Kaede Rukawa (#11)
Ryonan's starting five:
Center: Uozumi (#4)
Shooting Guard: Koshino Hiroaki (#6)
Point Guard: Uekusa Tomoyuki (#8)
Small Forward: Akira Sendoh (#7)
Power Forward: Ikegami Ryoji (#5)
Everyone on Ryonan's side looked pretty average—except for their towering center, Uozumi. Only one other player stood out physically: Ikegami Ryoji, who was over 180 cm. The rest hovered around 170–175 cm.
And then, there was Akira Sendoh.
Wearing jersey #7, Sendoh was one of the tallest on Ryonan's team—easily over 190 cm. He had a calm, handsome face and a friendly presence that made him instantly likable.
But the most distinctive thing about him?
That ridiculous hedgehog hair, spiked sky-high like he'd stuck a fork in an outlet. The guy looked like a walking broom.
Before the whistle even blew, the gym erupted in cheers.
"Ryonan! Let's go! Ryonan! Beat Shohoku!"
Shohoku's Bench Area
The atmosphere felt heavy.
First-year Tadashi Yamada muttered, "Dang... Ryonan's players look so intense."
Kuwata Toki looked uneasy. "We'll... we'll be okay, right?"
Iishi Kentaro asked, "Is that guy Sendoh? Is he really that good?"
Kogure responded calmly, "It's not just a matter of being good. Sendoh was already considered one of the best players last year. They called him 'Genius Sendoh.' If it weren't for Shoyo and Kainan, Ryonan would've gone to Nationals."
The moment he said that, the first-years paled.
Kaede Rukawa also glanced toward Sendoh.
In his eyes—a spark ignited.
Just then, Sakuragi Hanamichi swaggered straight toward Sendoh, his eyes blazing with unearned confidence.
"I'm Shohoku's secret weapon, Sakuragi Hanamichi. Sendoh! You're going down!"
Everyone froze.
Ryonan's players looked stunned.
Koshino scowled. "The hell did this guy just say?"
Uekusa frowned. "Does he even know who he's talking to?"
Akagi twitched. "That idiot..."
Even Ayako, watching from the sidelines, looked helpless. "He just never learns..."
But before anyone could step in, Sendoh smiled.
He stretched out his hand. "Looking forward to it."
Sakuragi nodded and shook his hand. "Same here."
And just like that, the match began.
Meanwhile – Second Floor Entrance
Three girls rushed in.
Akagi Haruko, flanked by her best friends Fujii and Matsui, was breathless. "We made it..."
Matsui glared. "It's your fault we had to sprint."
Haruko blushed. "Sorry..."
Suddenly, loud chants filled the gym:
"Rukawa! I love you! Kaede Rukawa! I love you!!"
The girls turned—and saw three cheerleaders in miniskirts, twirling handkerchiefs, lifting legs, and screaming like fangirls.
The entire stadium blinked.
Fujii and Matsui immediately pulled Haruko aside.
"Don't you dare do anything like that," Fujii hissed.
Haruko waved her hands, flustered. "I wouldn't!"
Matsui stared at her suspiciously. "...Woman. You say that, but I have doubts."
Beep!
The whistle blew.
The referee tossed the ball into the air.
Akagi and Uozumi both leapt high—arms outstretched, fingers clawing for the tip.
The match was on.
Elsewhere – On a Train Headed to Ryonan
HA HA HA HA HA!
Three loud-mouthed delinquents laughed obnoxiously, ignoring the disapproving looks around them.
One of them bragged, "So after I beat the guy up, I said..."
"What? What?!" the others egged him on.
"I told him—'Fighting's easy. I'm always ready for it!' Man, I was so cool!"
They all broke into another round of mocking laughter.
Passengers shifted uncomfortably.
Women and girls quietly moved away, trying not to draw attention.
Then—
Two figures entered the car.
The first: a beautiful girl, graceful and radiant with youthful charm.
The gangsters instantly froze, their eyes turning into heart emojis.
But before they could move—
A shadow fell over them.
Behind her walked a tall young man, calm but brimming with raw, quiet power. A dangerous aura clung to him like smoke.
The gangsters suddenly felt like prey.
Their laughter died.
The two newcomers were Qing Junce and Shimizu Kanon.
Junce glanced at the three thugs blocking the aisle. "Move."
The thugs didn't hesitate—they parted like the Red Sea.
Kanon didn't even flinch. She was used to this.
Hand-in-hand, they walked past the frozen gangsters.
Once they were gone, the thugs let out shaky breaths.
"Dude… I thought I was dead for sure."
"Didn't you say fighting was easy?"
"…Shut up."
Other passengers looked over. Many admired the pair—men eyeing Kanon, women admiring Junce.
But the two of them were used to it by now.
Kanon checked her phone and frowned. "We're so late. All because of you! We probably missed the start of the game."
Junce yawned. "It's early. Doesn't matter."
"What kind of teammate talks like that?" Kanon huffed.
"Tch..." Junce didn't argue.
Back at Ryonan High Gym
The match had tilted dangerously in one direction.
The first half had already passed.
The scoreboard read:
Ryonan – 19
Shohoku – 0
Zero.
Shohoku hadn't scored a single point.
Their players were winded, dripping with sweat, their faces pale with disbelief.
They'd known Ryonan would be strong—but this strong?
The pressure was crushing.
With 20-minute halves, their stamina was already fading fast—and so was their confidence.
Ryonan's ball.
Uekusa broke through Shiozaki's defense and pushed toward the three-point line.
Kogure stepped up to block—
But Uekusa lobbed the ball high into Shohoku's paint.
A figure in Ryonan #7 soared up.
Sendoh.
Shohoku's players held their breath.
Down by 19.
If Sendoh scored again, it'd be 20. And somehow, 20 felt like the cliff's edge.
And then—
Whoosh!
A flash of red cut across the paint.
Intercepted.
"...What?!"
Sendoh's eyes widened.
So did everyone else's.
The one who snagged the ball was—
Kaede Rukawa.
He landed smoothly, held the ball with both hands, and looked forward.
Then, as if addressing Sendoh directly, he muttered: "Let's go."
Sendoh narrowed his eyes.
Rukawa blasted down the court.
One dribble. Two. Past Uekusa. Past Koshino. Into the paint.
He rose for the layup.
Sendoh came in from the side, hand outstretched—block!
But—
Rukawa twisted in midair, flipping the ball behind him as he passed.
Sendoh's eyes shot open.
And right behind Rukawa...
Akagi Takenori exploded into the paint.
He caught the pass in stride, leapt high, and—
SLAM!
Clang!
The backboard rattled. The rim shuddered.
Shohoku had scored.
2 to 19.
It wasn't much.