Ryokufu locker room.
"Everyone must win." Fujisawa Eri looked solemnly at the Ryokufu players, tapping her nails on the table with a fast tempo, her voice ringing out loud and clear.
Her tone was bright, tinged with excitement and desire.
She swept her eyes across the team, visibly thrilled, then continued, "As long as we beat Shohoku, Ryokufu's basketball team will become the strongest in the country. Then… our undefeated legacy begins. That moment we've all waited for is finally here. Michael has returned to us."
She paused, then added, "We're already 20 points ahead at halftime—that proves our strength. We're now a championship-caliber team. From here on, it's Ryokufu's era of dominance."
In the corner, Coach Ofuna sat like a mascot, silent and unmoving. His throat felt stuffed with soaked cotton, unable to utter a word.
His feelings were mixed. Looking at Fujisawa Eri speak so confidently, he honestly didn't know how to feel.
All he could think was: this girl's still too young, too naive.
Time passed.
Soon, the second half began.
When Shohoku's lineup appeared, everyone froze.
From the Shohoku bench, a figure walked onto the court—one both familiar and unfamiliar.
Wearing the Shohoku No. 9 jersey—Aoi Kunisaku.
The Ryokufu players all showed surprised expressions.
Michael Okita, after a brief look of shock, smiled with anticipation and murmured, "Oh? Finally stepping in?"
Katsumi Ichirou looked at Aoi Kunisaku, whispering, "So this is the one they call the 'strongest high school player'?"
Even Nadaka Hikaru narrowed his eyes, face growing serious.
Fujisawa Eri saw Aoi Kunisaku enter, yet still wore a confident smile. Her tone dismissive, she said, "So what if you're the 'strongest high schooler'? A 20-point gap doesn't just vanish."
Aoi Kunisaku stepped onto the court, subbing in for Miyagi Ryota.
He stood on Shohoku's side, eyes lazy but untamed, something sharp like a blade buried in them. Anyone his gaze swept past felt an inexplicable chill down their spine.
The Ryokufu players' expressions all shifted.
They felt a real pressure from Aoi Kunisaku.
It was invisible, intangible—like running into a tiger deep in the wilderness, staring you down half-awake. Your breath catches. Cold sweat starts dripping.
Even Michael Okita, previously calm, now looked serious.
This feeling—he'd never experienced it before.
Not even back in America had anyone ever made him this tense.
Next, the jump ball.
Akagi Takenori again won the tip, snatching it ahead of Nadaka Hikaru.
Without hesitation, Akagi tapped the ball straight to Aoi Kunisaku.
He wanted to let the team's ace take the first shot and lift their sluggish spirits.
Pa—
The basketball seemed to have a will of its own, landing right into Aoi Kunisaku's hands.
The entire gym fell dead silent.
Every eye locked on Aoi Kunisaku.
He stood still with the ball in both hands, staring straight at Ryokufu's side. He didn't move.
Time seemed frozen in that instant.
A heavy silence filled the air like a storm was about to hit. No one knew what would happen next.
The Ryokufu players swallowed instinctively. Strangely, none of them dared to step up and defend.
"Hmph..."
Boom...
Boom...
Boom...
The ball bounced faster and faster, like the beat of a war drum.
Aoi Kunisaku dribbled with a smirk, his eyes filled with amusement as he stepped forward slowly. "Hope you won't disappoint me."
His tone was casual and calm.
Then—
Boom...
Another bounce.
But this time, he moved.
In Ryokufu's eyes, it was like someone hit fast forward by ten times. Before they could blink, he was already at the front line.
Their hearts seized.
Their breath caught.
Totsuka Tetsuya, the closest one, felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. A chill shot down his spine and wrapped around his legs, making his scalp go numb.
He reached out by instinct—but the gust from Aoi Kunisaku's movement brushed past his nose, and before he even realized it, the figure had vanished.
"So fast..." Totsuka stood frozen, throat tight, waves of shock rippling in his chest.
His own speed was top-tier in the country.
But just now—what did he see?
He couldn't even react.
'What kind of international joke is this...?'
Boom...
Boom...
Boom...
The sound of the ball bouncing echoed through the gym like a war drum.
It got closer and closer, making the Ryokufu players' nerves tense up. It was like an invisible demon whispering right in their ears, gnawing at their minds one beat at a time.
Michael Okita locked eyes on Aoi Kunisaku's every move. No one noticed that the smile he always wore had completely vanished. Now, his face was stiff with focus, beads of sweat rolling from his forehead.
He knew Aoi Kunisaku would be strong—after all, the guy was called the "strongest high school player."
But seeing Aoi Kunisaku's speed with his own eyes was still shocking.
Back in America, he'd seen players with this kind of speed, but they were always top-tier from powerhouse teams.
He never imagined he'd meet one here in Japan.
Facing a player like this, he couldn't afford to hold back.
If it weren't for his experience against fast players in the States, his eyes wouldn't have been able to keep up with Aoi Kunisaku at all.
As Aoi Kunisaku neared, Michael Okita sprang into motion, managing to cut him off and get in front.
Seeing that, Ryokufu's bench lit up with joy.
Fujisawa Eri jumped from her seat, clutching her fists so tight her knuckles turned white, eyes locked on the court without a blink.
She hoped Michael Okita could stop Aoi Kunisaku right here.
If he could block him, Ryokufu might just take the title of "strongest high school team."
Even the Shohoku bench was stunned by Michael Okita's reaction.
Ayako's eyes widened in shock. "He actually kept up with Aoi Kunisaku…"
Kogure Kiminobu couldn't believe it either, his voice tense. "So that guy was holding back all along…"
On the court—
Aoi Kunisaku met Michael Okita head-on.
His face didn't change, and neither did his hands.
Pa—
The ball bounced hard off the floor, like a lively fish slipping through his legs and landing in his other hand.
Between-the-legs hand switch.
Whoosh—
The moment he pulled it off, he twisted his foot, spinning like an oiled gear. His shoulder brushed right past Michael Okita's nose, and the wind lifted the guy's sweaty bangs.
Aoi Kunisaku broke past him clean.
But then—Michael Okita spun too.
It was a reverse spin from Aoi Kunisaku's, forming a mirrored image that cut him off once more.
At the same time, Michael Okita reached for the ball.
Just as his fingers brushed the surface, Aoi Kunisaku's wrist snapped, releasing the ball. Using the bounce, he switched hands and took a quick step back, putting distance between them.
"Hmm?"
Aoi Kunisaku raised a brow. A flicker of surprise passed through his eyes—but it only lasted a second.
Cheers erupted from the Ryokufu bench.
Fujisawa Eri pumped her fist and shouted, "Well done, Michael! Beat him here!"
Nadaka Hikaru joined in, "Take it from him, captain!"
Katsumi Ichirou shouted, "That's our captain for you!"
Meanwhile, Shohoku's bench wore stunned faces.
Ayako clamped a hand over her mouth, disbelief in her voice. "He… he actually blocked Aoi Kunisaku…"
Kogure Kiminobu was already on his feet, staring at the court. "I can't believe Michael Okita stopped him… No wonder he came back from America."
Even Shimizu Kanon looked surprised.
Because Michael Okita had just returned from overseas, there wasn't much intel on him.
Shimizu Kanon only knew the bare minimum from scattered sources.
But one thing she was certain of—Aoi Kunisaku was unbeatable.
On the court—
Aoi Kunisaku's smile deepened. His lazy gaze now carried a spark, like a beast that found a worthy prey. His voice brimmed with raw appreciation. "Not bad."
Michael Okita didn't react proudly.
Instead, his face grew even more serious.
It was only because he was used to the pace of American games that he could keep up just now.
Looking at Aoi Kunisaku's relaxed expression, he knew the guy hadn't gone all out yet.
Though Michael Okita was also holding back, the pressure from Aoi Kunisaku felt heavier than anything he'd felt in the States.
That raised all his internal alarms. His mind stayed on high alert.
Boom…
Boom…
Boom…
Aoi Kunisaku dribbled, grinning at Michael Okita.
But to Michael, that smile looked like something straight out of a nightmare.
He didn't dare let his guard down for even a second.
Behind Aoi Kunisaku, Totsuka Tetsuya—just beaten moments ago—was now sneaking up on him.
There was a glint of cunning and calculation in Totsuka Tetsuya's eyes. He crouched low and crept forward, step by step, waiting for a chance to strike when Aoi Kunisaku let down his guard.
But Aoi Kunisaku's sense for danger was razor-sharp. He sensed someone closing in almost instantly.
Totsuka Tetsuya pounced, reaching for the ball in Aoi Kunisaku's hands.
Aoi Kunisaku didn't even glance back. The instant Totsuka made his move, Aoi's legs sprang like loaded coils. His speed shot from zero to MAX in a blink, launching him like a missile.
Whoosh—
With a burst of rapid steps, he cut forward like a bolt of red lightning.
Because Aoi Kunisaku had moved so suddenly, Totsuka Tetsuya's ambush turned into a total joke. He stumbled and nearly fell flat on the court.
Michael Okita, who'd been locked on Aoi the entire time, was also a half-beat late. Aoi breezed past him clean.
He stared blankly at Aoi's disappearing figure, completely lost.
Michael Okita—still focused—was caught off guard by the sudden change. He came to his senses just as Aoi had already broken through their line, tearing toward the basket.
Michael clenched his jaw and turned on his heels, launching after him.
His sneakers pounded the floor with heavy thump-thump steps, eyes locked on Aoi Kunisaku, determined not to let him through.
"Oh?" Aoi Kunisaku sensed the pursuit, and the corner of his mouth curled up, excitement lighting in his eyes. "Interesting."
Just as everyone thought they'd both crash into the Ryokufu paint—something unexpected happened.
Aoi suddenly stopped.
His sneakers screeched against the floor. It was like he slammed into a wall, his momentum cut cold.
He stopped too suddenly.
Michael Okita, at full sprint and focused solely on catching him, couldn't react in time. Inertia carried him right past Aoi's side.
Aoi Kunisaku now stood calmly at the edge of the paint. He took a breath, locked onto the Ryokufu basket, and went into his shooting motion.
Under the basket, Nadaka Hikaru had already gotten into defensive position, fully braced for Aoi's drive.
He'd expected him to barrel straight through.
But Aoi's sudden stop stunned him.
His eyes widened. He froze in disbelief.
Now, Aoi Kunisaku was completely unguarded.
So he shot—easy, smooth, like it was just another practice drill.
Whoosh—
The ball traced a clean arc in the air.
Swish—
It fell right through.
Shohoku 31 to Ryokufu 49.
Just seconds into the second half, Aoi Kunisaku had exploded down the court and cleanly scored 2 points.
And the clock had only ticked past ten seconds.
That even included the time he'd waited without rushing the start.
If you really counted it—from catching the inbound on Shohoku's side to breaking through Ryokufu and scoring—it all happened in about 5 seconds.
Five seconds.
Insane.
"Aoi Kunisaku…" Fujisawa Eri growled his name through gritted teeth. Her flawless makeup couldn't hide how sour her face had turned, her brows locked in a twisted knot.
She'd hoped her ace could be a wall against Aoi.
But reality had slapped her in the face hard.
And what made her spine go cold… was Aoi's speed.
She'd heard he was fast.
But she'd brushed it off.
After all, her own team had Totsuka Tetsuya—one of the fastest in the country.
Now that she saw it for herself, she realized just how naive she had been.
Totsuka didn't even deserve to be compared.
A sudden heat surged in her chest. Her eyes burned into Aoi's sweat-drenched back.
'If I could get Aoi Kunisaku into Ryokufu…'
The thought bloomed uncontrollably. She was already scheming what kind of offer it would take to bring him in.
While she dreamed, the game carried on.
To reclaim a point, Michael Okita brought the ball up himself. Like a beast coming down from the mountains, he charged toward Shohoku's basket.
Just past the Three-Point Line, a flash of red appeared—Aoi Kunisaku again.
Michael Okita pivoted, slamming his back into Aoi's chest. His muscles tensed under his white uniform, and the ball bounced sharply under his palm.
The two collided—testing strength, speed, will—neither giving an inch.
One was searching for a steal.
The other was searching for a break.
Suddenly, Michael Okita's eyes lit up. He stepped into a crossover and spun toward the left.
Aoi Kunisaku shadowed him tightly. The soles of his shoes screeched against the hardwood.
Michael spun, then stopped short and changed direction again.
Aoi reacted instantly.
But the next moment—a figure like a steel tower blocked the space between them.
It was Nadaka Hikaru.
Michael knew—this was the perfect chance to shoot.
Aoi had been cut off not by luck, but by design. Michael had caught a glimpse of Nadaka's positioning earlier and purposely funneled Aoi toward him.
The trap worked.
Nadaka was now the shield between him and Aoi.
Michael could now shoot freely, with no concern.
So he did.
He gathered the ball and leapt, aiming at Shohoku's hoop.
But just as the ball left his fingertips, Aoi Kunisaku's speed shot from zero to MAX again. He somehow slipped around Nadaka's screen at an insane angle and leapt from the side.
His arm snapped forward and swatted toward the ball in Michael's hands.
"What?!"
Michael's eyes widened. Shock gripped his chest.
But it was too late. The ball had already left his hand.
Whoosh—
The ball brushed past Aoi's fingertips.
Just then, Aoi's fingers clipped the spinning surface. Sweat cracked through the air. The ball's flight shifted slightly.
Michael's pupils contracted. 'Not good.'
Both landed.
The instant their feet hit the floor, both sprang again, lunging for the rebound.
The ball arced through the air, a bit off-balance, and hit the edge of the rim.
It bounced off.
Aoi and Michael jumped together under the basket, both arms stretching toward the ball.
Every eye in the gym was locked on them.
The stands fell into dead silence.
Everyone wanted to know—who would win this clash?
Even Shohoku didn't expect Michael to go toe-to-toe with Aoi like this.
Rukawa Kaede's sharp gaze was fixed on the two, not wanting to miss a single frame.
Their hands neared the ball—nearly touched it at the same time.
Aoi's eyes narrowed.
At the last instant, instead of grabbing the ball, he slapped it—hard—toward the backboard.
The ball's trajectory changed immediately, bouncing off the glass and flying out past the paint.
Michael's pupils shrank.
Clang—
The ball struck the board and ricocheted.
'Damn it.'
He hadn't expected Aoi to pull a move like that.
Totally blindsided.
They landed again.
And again, without a pause, they launched themselves toward where the ball flew.
One white and one red streak—blurs in motion—raced after it.
Thanks to Aoi's quicker reaction, he reached it first and controlled the ball.
Without stopping, he tore straight toward Ryokufu's basket.
Michael trailed just half a step behind.
Like twin beams of red and white light, they shot down the court.
Michael chased with everything he had.
But no matter how hard he ran, he couldn't close the distance.
'This is insane.'
Aoi was still dribbling. And even with that, Michael couldn't catch him.
The guy's speed was monstrous.
But at least—unlike others—Michael wasn't falling further behind.
Aoi noticed that too.
His eyes lit up even more with excitement.
The rest of Ryokufu tried to fall back and support Michael.
But none of them were fast enough. They could only watch helplessly from behind.
Shohoku's players were the same.
Only Rukawa and Sakuragi could keep up to a reasonable degree.
Aoi dashed through unchallenged.
By the time he reached Ryokufu's basket, Michael was still half a body behind.
Aoi sprang off the floor.
With one hand cradling the ball, he rose high and slammed it toward the rim.
Michael jumped too. But he couldn't get there in time.
Boom—
A dunk like thunder.
The ball exploded through the net.
Shohoku 33 to Ryokufu 49.
Not a sound in the entire gym.