On the court.
All eyes locked onto the area beneath Meihou's basket like searchlights.
At that moment, Rukawa Kaede lay flat on his back. The dull thud of his body hitting the floor still echoed in the air.
His brows were tightly furrowed. Pain spread across his face like ink bleeding through paper. His twisted features wordlessly screamed an unbearable agony that even those watching from afar could feel.
Standing over him like a towering mountain was Morishige Hiroshi. He looked down coldly, as if Rukawa were just a bug beneath his feet. The pressure radiating from him spread like a tidal wave.
What just happened?
The stands erupted in confusion. Most hadn't even processed it yet.
Clearly, something intense had just gone down.
Everyone from Shohoku stared at Rukawa Kaede on the ground, eyes full of shock and worry.
They had seen it clearly—Morishige had swatted Rukawa down with one massive slap. The force was unreal.
"Rukawa Kaede, you okay?" Mitsui Hisashi asked cautiously, eyes full of concern.
But Sakuragi Hanamichi chimed in from the side with his usual snark, grinning smugly. "Gorilla, Rukawa's done for. Better sub him out! With me, the genius Sakuragi Hanamichi, on court, that's all we need!"
Akagi Takenori frowned deeply and ignored Sakuragi's gloating. His eyes stayed locked on Rukawa, who was struggling to get up.
"Big idiot… who're you saying needs to sub out?" Rukawa said through gritted teeth, his voice cold and biting.
When Rukawa stood up like nothing happened, the smug look on Sakuragi's face froze. Then came disappointment. He pouted. "Stupid fox… if you're hurt, just sit out. Don't hold us back later."
Rukawa's expression was like ice. He didn't even glance at Sakuragi and totally ignored him.
Getting no reaction, Sakuragi spat angrily and turned away, muttering under his breath, "Damn Rukawa… not even injured. What a waste."
Akagi walked over quickly and asked, "Hey, Rukawa. You sure you're okay?"
This was their final Game. His high school basketball career was ending.
But Shohoku was where his dream started. He didn't want his players leaving the court with lasting injuries. If there was a problem, they had to deal with it immediately.
"I'm fine," Rukawa answered flatly, voice devoid of emotion.
It had been that guy—Morishige—who had slammed him down.
That force still surged through his limbs like a rampaging beast, making his bones ache.
But his eyes didn't hold any hate. Instead, they burned with wild fighting spirit, flames dancing in his gaze as if ready to incinerate Morishige on the spot.
The referee glanced over and confirmed Rukawa was okay. Then, without hesitation, he signaled for the Game to resume.
A sharp whistle cut through the court, like a lit fuse igniting the tension on the floor.
From that moment, the explosive atmosphere only grew. It was as if someone had poured gasoline on an open flame.
The air itself felt charged, ready to spark at any second.
Meihou's Offense came like a raging tide, wave after wave, reckless and fierce.
Morishige Hiroshi especially was like a beast unleashed, full power mode. Every Slam Dunk shook Shohoku's rim with a creaking groan, like it could break at any moment.
His Blocks were brutal, like massive hands swatting down Shohoku's points without mercy.
It was as if some hidden switch had been flipped inside him. His ability spiked like crazy, like he was cheating.
He didn't give off the showy aura of "Wild Instinct," but that calm and crushing presence was enough to overwhelm even the fired-up Sakuragi Hanamichi, who had activated his own "Wild Instinct."
Sakuragi charged again and again, only to be beaten back again and again by Morishige. He looked pathetic, while Morishige just got more unstoppable.
Akagi wasn't slacking either. He gritted his teeth and fought with everything he had, teaming up with Sakuragi to stop Morishige.
But even with both of them, they couldn't get the upper hand.
Morishige overpowered them completely. Every clash felt like ants trying to topple a tree. His physical strength was beyond insane.
With their scoring shut down by Morishige, Akagi and Sakuragi could only watch in frustration. All their hopes now rested on Aoi Kunisaku and the others.
Soon, the Game turned into an all-out Shootout between Meihou's full team and Aoi Kunisaku, Rukawa Kaede, and Mitsui Hisashi.
Back and forth they went, neither side giving an inch. The court was on fire.
Rukawa Kaede dribbled with lightning speed, slicing into Meihou's Paint again.
Morishige stood in front of him like a black mountain, body blocking all light. The pressure was suffocating.
Rukawa's eyes were sharp as a hawk's. He didn't force the shot. In a split second, he whipped out a no-look Pass, his wrist snapping.
The ball flew like it had eyes, landing clean in Mitsui Hisashi's hands out on the perimeter.
Mitsui caught it smoothly. Before Daimon Saburou could react, he jumped, raised his arms high, and flicked his wrist.
The ball traced a beautiful arc through the air, mesmerizing to watch, then dropped toward the basket.
Swish—
Nothing but net.
The ball sank cleanly.
Meihou struck back fast and hard, storming Shohoku's defense.
Morishige charged into the Paint like a tank. His steps were bold and heavy—he didn't see anyone as an obstacle.
Akagi Takenori and Sakuragi Hanamichi rushed forward, trying to block the big guy together.
But in front of Morishige Hiroshi, their Defense was like paper. He completely ignored them—they might as well not have been there.
Catching the Pass from his teammate, Morishige launched into the air like a coiled beast unleashed.
The force he released was terrifying, beyond normal imagination. He powered through Akagi and Sakuragi's attempts to stop him and Slam Dunked the ball into the basket with force.
Bang—
A thunderous boom.
It felt like the whole court shook.
The ball dropped through the net cleanly.
Shohoku immediately counterattacked.
Outside the Three-Point Line, Mitsui Hisashi had just raised his hands to shoot when the opponent clung to him tightly. His shot path was completely blocked.
Helpless, he quickly passed the ball to the other side—to Aoi Kunisaku.
The moment Aoi touched the ball, Nakayama Tenri and Maeda Ryu'u lunged at him like hungry wolves. They double-teamed him instantly.
Their intent was clear—trap Aoi outside the arc and stop him cold.
But Aoi wasn't someone who could be pinned down so easily.
The ball danced smoothly in his hands. He moved like a slippery serpent, twisting left and right, easily shaking off the two of them with a quick step and dashing into the Paint.
Morishige Hiroshi's eyes hadn't left Aoi for even a second. He watched him carefully.
When Aoi broke through, Morishige immediately stepped up. His massive body moved like a wall, trying to cut Aoi off.
But then Aoi suddenly sprang sideways, leaping at a weird 45-degree angle. His motion was so fast it was a blur.
Morishige had been ready to jump too, but he froze. Eyes wide, face full of shock and confusion, he just stared at Aoi flying off to the side.
'He jumped sideways?'
'What kind of move is that?'
His brain spun in circles, unable to process it. Before he figured it out, Aoi flicked his wrist while descending, shooting the ball midair.
The basketball shot upward like an orange-yellow bolt of lightning, zipping beneath Morishige's armpit, heading straight for the rim.
Everyone watched in stunned silence as the ball slammed off the Backboard, bounced once, then dropped cleanly through the net.
Bang...
Swish...
Basket scored.
Morishige's brows twisted into a deep knot. Inside, he burned with frustration. But his dull, simple face didn't show a hint of emotion.
He stared hard at Aoi Kunisaku. His eyes were like black whirlpools, as if they could swallow him whole.
Next, Nakayama Tenri showed what a true team captain could do. He led the team to the Shohoku basket with sharp decision-making and smooth moves.
He was clearly aiming to create a good scoring position for Morishige.
Sakuragi Hanamichi had his full focus glued to Morishige, and that gave Nakayama the perfect chance.
Just when everyone thought he'd pass to Morishige, Nakayama suddenly jumped up without warning and took the shot himself.
Sakuragi's eyes widened to the max, practically bulging out of their sockets. He sprinted madly toward Nakayama, jumped, and reached out, trying to swat the ball away.
But it was too late.
The ball just barely brushed past Sakuragi's fingertips and cleared his hand easily. It dropped cleanly into Shohoku's basket.
"Damn it! That guy can shoot too?!" Sakuragi shouted, furious and frustrated. His face flushed red, and he clutched his head, yelling in disbelief.
Akagi gave him a side-eye and scolded, "Idiot. Don't lose track of your mark."
Nakayama smirked, eyes full of mischief and provocation. He looked at Sakuragi deliberately and said slowly, "Don't underestimate Meihou. Just 'cause I usually don't shoot doesn't mean I can't."
His words pierced Sakuragi like a thorn. He instantly boiled with rage, his whole face turning red. The humiliation of being lectured made his wild "Instinct" nearly collapse from pure anger.
"I'm gonna explode!" Sakuragi stomped and shouted in fury, looking ready to rush over and sew Nakayama's mouth shut.
The match went on.
Both teams scored back and forth. The lead stayed at around 16 points.
It showed how fierce the Offense and Defense were on both sides.
By now, more than half of the second half had passed.
With no sign of closing the gap, Nomoto Reizou grew more and more frantic. Sweat poured down his forehead, soaking his Tactics Board and smudging the marker lines.
His carefully laid trap—keeping Aoi Kunisaku behind the Three-Point Line—had completely failed. It was as leaky as a broken bag.
Shohoku's players clearly saw through his plans. They refused to give him the setup he needed.
Rather than lacking chances, the truth was—he had underestimated this young player far too much.
Nakayama Tenri and Maeda Ryu'u had lunged at Aoi again and again like rabid dogs, trying to trap him outside. But Aoi moved like an eel. No matter how they chased or blocked, they couldn't catch him.
"Is the skill gap really that huge?" Nomoto gritted his teeth and mumbled under his breath. His voice was full of despair and unwillingness, like someone being strangled.
On the court, except for Aoi Kunisaku, every other player was exhausted. Their breathing was ragged, their Uniforms soaked with sweat, their steps growing heavier by the second.
But Aoi moved like a machine that didn't understand exhaustion. Dribbling calmly, he walked across to Meihou's half like he was just strolling through his backyard.
His gaze swept over Meihou's lineup, finally settling on Morishige Hiroshi, who stood ready beneath the rim.
Morishige Hiroshi still radiated dominance, like a tiger ready to pounce. But from the sweat dripping off his body and the way his chest was rising and falling, it was clear he'd burned through a lot of stamina.
Aoi Kunisaku knew full well—based on his frame, trying to take on Morishige's forceful Dunks head-on was suicide.
But bracing against him was one thing. Stopping him was another.
He glanced around at the Meihou players. A smirk crept onto his lips. His voice was quiet, but every word cut like a knife. "Is this all you've got? Seriously, what a letdown."
The court went dead silent in an instant. Everyone froze and turned to look at him.
Aoi's expression was scarily calm. His eyes were cold, like frozen glass. The way he stared at the Meihou players was full of disdain and boredom. "I thought the finals would at least get me hyped."
He stopped just before the Three-Point Line, voice thick with mockery. "You're weak. So weak it's boring."
As soon as those words dropped, his dribbling changed. Both hands gripped the ball.
The entire court reacted with shock.
What was he doing?
The Shohoku players' pupils shrank.
The Meihou team was just as confused. But an ominous feeling crept into all of their chests.
"I'm tired of this. I'll just end it here," Aoi said flatly. Before the words even fully landed, he jumped high. Both hands raised the ball, took aim at the basket, and shot.
Whoosh…
The basketball fired through the air like a bullet. It drew a sharp, clean arc, graceful and deadly.
The Meihou players stood frozen. Not one of them moved to block. They were all caught completely off guard.
No one expected Aoi, known for his two-point plays, to suddenly shoot a three.
But now wasn't the time for answers.
All eyes locked onto the ball flying through the air.
In the stunned silence, the ball looked enchanted, perfectly slicing through the net.
Swish…
Nothing but net.
The crowd erupted.
"A three-pointer?! Shohoku's number 9 can shoot threes?"
"I've never seen him take a three before!"
"Amazing. That shot was clean. Meihou has no way to stop him!"
…
"That guy…" Nakayama Tenri clenched his molars, eyes locked on Aoi, heart in turmoil.
Daimon Saburou's brows scrunched up. His voice wavered with doubt and unease. "Was that just luck?"
The Meihou players now wore serious faces.
Nakayama forced himself to stay focused. Raising his voice, he shouted, "Forget that! Just score one back!"
At his command, Meihou began their next possession.
But right at midcourt, Nakayama zoned out for a split second—and Aoi Kunisaku shot out of nowhere and stole the ball.
Damn it.
Nakayama cursed in his head, veins bulging on his forehead. He turned to sprint back on Defense.
But as he turned, he saw Aoi had already stepped into Meihou's Paint.
Only Morishige Hiroshi was left under the basket.
It was the first time Aoi and Morishige directly faced each other in the second half. They locked eyes, and the air between them practically caught fire.
Suddenly, the sky darkened. Clouds rolled in, thunder cracked overhead, wind howled like a crazed beast, and rain poured down in thick sheets.
Ka-cha!
A bolt of lightning split the sky—like the signal that a clash was about to explode.
Aoi moved.
The basketball in his hands danced like a living spirit. It flicked and twirled, skipping left and right around his body.
Super High-Speed Dribble.
His movements were so fast they blurred. Morishige stared wide-eyed but couldn't track his next move.
Aoi's body faked left and right, switching hands, changing direction, posting up, spinning—one move flowed into the next like a perfectly choreographed dance.
Then, at the peak of his jump, Aoi sharply shifted direction. His lithe body veered like a flash of lightning.
Morishige instinctively jumped too—but the moment he did, he realized he had jumped the wrong way.
To the crowd, Morishige had leapt high to the left, while Aoi sprang lightly to the right. The scene looked downright comical.
It was the first time Morishige had misjudged like this. The first time Aoi had toyed with him.
With no one left to Defend, Aoi easily dropped the ball through the hoop.
In the next several plays, Aoi completely let loose and showed his full strength.
Meihou's Defense crumbled in the face of his relentless Offense. They couldn't hold their ground.
The once-unshakable Morishige now looked like a clumsy kid, totally at Aoi's mercy.
He gave it everything he had trying to stop Aoi's Shots. But no matter what he did, it was all for nothing.
If they couldn't stop him before, now they were totally helpless.
Only now did Meihou truly understand how terrifying Aoi Kunisaku was.
Only now did they realize how ridiculous their previous thinking had been.
They thought Morishige's Defense, combined with team coordination, would be enough to stop Aoi.
But reality had slapped them in the face—hard.
Aoi's power was far beyond what they imagined. He hadn't even been serious in the earlier part of the match. It wasn't until now that he unleashed his full, overwhelming edge.
On the sideline, Nomoto Reizou was completely stunned. His eyes bulged. He stood frozen in place.
Everything was happening too fast. Nothing was going according to plan.
What the hell was going on?
This wasn't how it was supposed to go!
On Shohoku's bench—
Shimizu Kanon beamed, her eyes curved into crescents and lips curled in a sweet, dazzling smile. Her tone was light but tinged with smugness. "Saku-chan is the slow-warming type, y'know. And Saku-chan isn't someone you can stop with numbers. Meihou's coach made the wrong call."
On the court—
The game had turned completely one-sided.
Meihou High was being crushed by Shohoku.
More accurately, they were being crushed by Aoi Kunisaku alone.
Aoi drove into Meihou's paint, and with a misstep from Morishige Hiroshi, he easily drew a 2+1.
Morishige... stunned.
Just one minute later, Aoi broke into Meihou's paint again.
Faced with a wall-like triple defense from Morishige, Maeda Ryuu, and Morishima Ryoushi, his eyes narrowed sharply. He suddenly unleashed a Formless Shot.
The ball drew an unbelievable arc from behind the backboard and dropped cleanly through the hoop.
All three defenders… stunned.
Two more minutes passed, and Aoi once again slashed through to the paint.
Morishige glared at him, eyes burning, full of frustration and wariness.
Aoi showed no fear. With lightning-fast crossovers and hand-switches, he dazzled everyone. Then he abruptly stopped and leapt up as if to Dunk.
Morishige gritted his teeth and jumped to block.
But Aoi moved like a nimble leopard, gliding in close right as Morishige jumped. He twisted mid-air in a beautiful Double Clutch, not only dodging the Block but drawing another 2+1.
Time slipped by without anyone noticing—it was nearly over.
Aoi never entered "Wild Instinct: Black Panther," but his sudden frenzy left the Meihou players completely stunned.
He looked like an unstoppable scoring machine—unblockable, uncontainable, untouchable.
The scoreboard numbers were harsh, suffocating Meihou's players.
Shohoku 96 – 68 Meihou.
In just a few minutes, Aoi had stretched the 16-point lead into a 28-point gap.
On Meihou's bench—
Nomoto Reizou slumped in his chair like a puppet with its strings cut, eyes closed in defeat.
He knew it in his heart. The game was over.
Only 1 minute left, and 28 points to recover? Pure fantasy.
Even though he'd braced for the worst before the game, facing the loss in reality still filled him with bitterness.
The Meihou players' faces were full of sorrow. Some had red eyes, others covered their faces, crying hard. Tears mixed with sweat fell onto the court.
Meanwhile, Shohoku's bench had already exploded with joy. Every player wore a beaming smile, eyes locked on the clock, eagerly waiting for the final buzzer.
They couldn't wait to rush onto the court, hug their teammates, and celebrate the championship together.
Beeeeeeep…
Finally, the sharp final whistle cut through the air and echoed across the court.
The scoreboard froze:
Shohoku 104 – 70 Meihou.
Shohoku crushed Meihou by 34 points, winning the game without a shred of doubt.
Boom… Boom… Boom… Boom… Boom…
Fireworks exploded in a deafening roar. Brilliant bursts lit up the arena like a golden downpour.
Then, multicolored streamers fluttered down like petals from the sky. They gently blanketed the court and fell on the sweat-soaked shoulders and smiling faces of Shohoku's players, casting a dreamlike glow over the scene.
Shohoku's bench turned into a roaring sea. Players burst toward center court like arrows from a bow. Cheers and shouts melted together into one wild chorus.
Everyone embraced tightly. Sweat and tears soaked into one another's shoulders. All the exhaustion from training, all the pressure of the game—at that moment, it became pure, blazing joy.
Akagi Takenori tilted his head back, letting the falling streamers brush his face. Hot tears slipped quietly down his sharp features.
He had waited for this moment for so, so long.
All those grueling days and nights of practice. Every time he fell and got back up. Every bit of pain endured for his dream—now answered, perfectly, through those tears.
Mitsui Hisashi's lips curled into a smile, though his body trembled faintly.
His gaze blurred, as if it pierced time itself and drifted into the past.
Back to his confident days standing on the junior high MVP podium. To the despair of his injury in high school. The years he fell into delinquency. The doubt and resolve when he finally rejoined the team...
One memory after another, flashing by like an old film reel.
Suddenly, he laughed out loud. His laughter was bright but tinged with sobs. As he laughed, tears surged out and soaked his reddened eyes.
Kogure Kiminobu stood quietly to the side, not interrupting.
He looked at Akagi and Mitsui, a warm smile naturally forming on his lips. His eyes were full of pride and blessing.
Once, "conquering the nation" was just a slogan to push themselves.
Who would've thought they'd actually make it all the way?
Fate was strange like that—turning the impossible into reality.
He turned his head and looked at Aoi Kunisaku, who still wore his calm expression. Deep inside, he felt a surge of unspoken gratitude. 'Thank you, Aoi Kunisaku… and everyone… thank you all.'
In the stands—
Spectators began to rise from their seats.
Sendoh Akira, Sawakita Eiji, the players from Kainan High, and other teams all stared at Aoi.
They committed his name to memory.
Everyone knew—this boy standing before them would be the fiercest rival of the next three years.
Especially the teams from Kanagawa, like Sendoh and Kainan.
"Looks like high school basketball is entering a new era," Sendoh whispered. He cast one last deep glance at Aoi, then turned and melted into the crowd.
Then came the award ceremony.
Under the gaze of the entire crowd, it began.
Shohoku High, Meihou High, and Kainan High stepped onto the podium as champion, runner-up, and third place respectively.
Champion: Shohoku High.
Runner-up: Meihou High.
Third place: Kainan High.
Click… Click… Click…
Countless flashes fired off, capturing this glorious moment forever.
After the ceremony, waiting for them was a swarm of ravenous reporters, armed with cameras and recorders, ready to pounce.