The moment they entered Shohoku's gym, Coach Tian of Ryonan strode quickly to greet Anderson.
"Coach Anderson—are we late?" Tian asked respectfully.
Anderson chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh ho ho, not at all. No need for such formality." He extended a friendly hand, tone light as ever.
But Tian's sharp eyes scanned the court. "Strange… why don't I see Mitch Harris?"
Anderson's expression sobered. "Mitch is injured. Still recovering in the hospital."
"What?!" Tian's eyes widened.
Mitch's absence struck him deeply. Months ago, Tian himself had courted the Kanagawa Junior High MVP, hoping to bring him to Ryonan. Mitch had refused, pledging instead to play under Anderson at Shohoku—a rejection that still stung Tian's pride. His purpose in setting this friendly was to prove to Mitch that Ryonan was the stronger program.
But now, Mitch wasn't even in attendance. Damn… Tian sighed inside. The unruly thought echoed in his mind: People only crave the things they can't have.
Suppressing his frustration, he asked sincerely, "How bad is his injury?"
"He should be discharged within a month," Anderson replied calmly.
Tian let out a breath of relief. "Good. That's good."
For all his sternness, Coach Tian truly cared about players—even those not on his team.
While the two coaches conversed, Ryonan's captain approached Shohoku's.
"I'm Yusaku Ozawa, captain of Ryonan," he introduced firmly.
Daniel Irving extended his hand quickly. "I'm Daniel Irving, captain of Shohoku. Pleasure."
As they exchanged greetings, however, attention in the gym shifted elsewhere—toward a towering figure.
Nearly two meters tall, Victor "Tank" Uozumi drew every gaze, his imposing frame impossible to ignore.
When his eyes locked onto Charles Ackerman, something silent sparked between them.
The two giants stood across the court, sizing each other up—rivals by instinct.
Even in their youth, a magnetic pull dragged them together. Ape meeting ape. A duel written into fate.
Soon after, Daniel Irving gathered his team to distribute the red Sprit jerseys.
"Numbers 4 through 9 are the seniors. Numbers 10 and up are the freshmen," he announced.
Each player waited anxiously—jersey numbers represented official roster status. Without one, a freshman was no better than a practice squad substitute.
"No. 10—Charles Ackerman."
Charles stepped forward confidently, putting on the number that would one day become Shohoku legend.
"No. 11—Cory Grant."
Cory cracked a grin. The handsome No. 11 jersey—his, as expected.
"No. 12—Nick Okamoto."
"No. 13—Justin Tanaka."
"No. 15—Kyle Yamamoto."
No. 14 remained reserved for Mitch Harris when he returned. For the rest of the freshmen, disappointment sank in—they would have to remain as reserves.
CLANG!
Suddenly, the entire gym turned.
At the far basket, Uozumi was hanging on the rim, dragging it down in a loud creak. Gasps filled the room at the raw power.
Even Coach Anderson blinked, adjusting his glasses. "Coach Tian, that boy… almost two meters, yes?"
Anderson's mind flickered to Ryuji Tanizawa, a former disciple—similar height, similar build.
Coach Tian's eyes glowed with pride. "Victor Uozumi. Currently 199 centimeters. Give him time—he'll be a full two-meter giant."
He spoke with unconcealed excitement. Uozumi was his proudest discovery in ten years of coaching. Raw, awkward, yet the most promising center he had ever found.
"I believe under your guidance, he'll become Kanagawa's best center," Anderson commented.
Tian's smile widened. "I'll make sure of it."
But in the shadows of fate, the irony lingered: two years later, whether Tian liked it or not, Charles Ackerman would seize that crown instead.
On the court, Cory bounced a ball. "Charles—let's run one."
"Alright."
Cory whipped a lob pass high into the paint. Charles thundered forward, leapt, seized it with both hands—
BOOM!
The rim cried out as he slammed it home, a gorilla's roar in iron.
Cheers erupted from Shohoku. Even Ryonan's players nodded in respect.
Charles landed, turned—and for an instant, his blazing stare met Uozumi's again. Sparks flew. Rivalry cemented.
From the Ryonan bench, Kevin Ikegami nudged Uozumi with an elbow. "See that? That's Shohoku's tower. Can you take him?"
Victor's jaw tightened. Nerves flickered—but then his eyes steeled in resolve. "I'll defeat him."
Kevin grinned. "Good. I believe you."
BEEP!
The referee's whistle cut through. Warm-ups ended. Players filed into their huddles.
Since this scrimmage was hosted at Shohoku, the whistle came from one of Shohoku's own reserve players, serving as referee.
Now it was time.
Coach Anderson, sitting deep in his chair, finally declared the Shohoku starters aloud.
"Irving. Sato. Mark Ito…"
He paused slightly before naming the final two.