Drip…
The final whistle pierced the frozen air of the basketball gym.
The game was over.
On the scoreboard, scarlet numbers glared like carved stone:
Ryonan 110 – Shohoku 60
A 50-point abyss separated the teams. Insurmountable. Humiliating.
Shohoku stood still, unmoving. Sweat had long dried, jerseys clinging like heavy shackles. No one spoke. No one looked up.
Takenori Akagi braced himself on his knees, knuckles white, eyes fixed on the floor, as if etching the crushing defeat into memory.
Rukawa Kaede closed his eyes, hair shadowing his unreadable expression. Sakuragi Hanamichi sat on the ground, violently slamming his head—but felt no pain.
Across the court, Ryonan erupted in celebration: laughter, high-fives, unrestrained joy.
Akashi, however, stood quietly at the center. A faint smile, calm as ever, betrayed no excitement. It was as if he had merely strolled through a drill rather than dominate a high-stakes match. That calm only made him seem more distant, more untouchable.
Soon after, Coach Taoka Moichi led Ryonan to the gym entrance to see off Shohoku.
A gentle breeze blew outside. Sunset cast long shadows across both teams.
Coach Anzai Mitsuyoshi adjusted his glasses, eyes glinting. "Coach Taoka, Ryonan's recruitment… remarkable. Congratulations."
Taoka smiled humbly. "Not at all, Coach Anzai. Just lucky to find such a talent."
Yet inside, Taoka's heart swelled. Akashi's calm mind, precise passes, and court dominance made him the most formidable player Taoka had ever seen. More than a replacement for those who had chosen Shohoku—he surpassed them all.
Uozumi approached Takenori Akagi, hand extended.
"Akagi…" he said quietly.
Akagi's gaze fell on the hand. The game replayed in his mind: humiliation, frustration, anger—but he breathed deep, raising his hand to grasp it firmly.
"In the high school league, let's settle this," Uozumi said, voice hammering through the air.
Takenori snorted. "Such arrogance." His eyes flicked to the calm young man who had dominated the game.
Akagi's expression remained serene, yet inside, his fire burned brighter. He stepped forward, extending his hand. "Next time, we will definitely win."
Hands met. "I'll be looking forward to it," Akashi said, composed and unwavering.
Sendo approached Rukawa and Sakuragi with his usual lazy smile.
"To Rukawa," he said, hand extended, "next time, don't just focus on one-on-one. Look for your teammates."
Rukawa gave a cold glance, then slapped Sendo's hand with measured force.
Sendo's gaze turned to Sakuragi. "Your turn."
Sakuragi stared, then finally grasped the hand. "Next time, I will defeat you, Sendo."
"Then you'll have to work hard," Sendo replied, smiling.
The handshakes ended. The aftershocks of the game began to fade.
Yet even after the players walked away, consequences lingered.
Sendo's right hand was swollen, shiny, knuckles raised, red as a freshly forged iron plate. Clenching it was a struggle.
"Sendo-senpai…" Aida Hikoichi's jaw nearly dropped. "Your hand… how did it get like this?!"
Sendo looked down, mouth twitching, muttering under his breath. "That scoundrel…"
Sakuragi had channeled all his frustration into that handshake, yet Sendo had remained silent, expression unchanged. Aida Hikoichi was utterly dumbfounded.
Outside Ryonan High, Shohoku's players paused.
Kogure Kiminobu looked at the school plaque. "Ryonan… truly formidable," he murmured, awe in his voice.
Takenori Akagi clenched his fists, determination blazing. The 50-point defeat had not broken him—it had rekindled his competitive fire.
Rukawa remained silent, replaying Akashi's unperturbed gaze, Sendo's calm smile, the elusive passes, and counterattacks. Fists tightened, fingernails digging into his palms.
Sakuragi's bloodshot eyes glared at the plaque. "Damn Ryonan… Damn Sendo… Damn Akashi… You'll remember this. Next time, I'll defeat you."
A familiar low laugh rang out. Anzai Mitsuyoshi stood smiling, benevolent and quiet.
Failure is not terrifying. Losing the will to fight is. These youths had been knocked down but refused to stay down. That was already a victory.
That night, in a quiet Kanagawa apartment, a light shone in the Aida living room.
Hikoichi gestured wildly, recounting the practice match with excitement. "Sis! Captain Akashi… he's not ordinary! He just dribbled twice between Rukawa and Sakuragi, and they slipped as if under a spell!"
Aida Yayoi smiled, shaking her head. "You've been talking nonstop since you got home. Didn't even stop for dinner, all to talk about your Captain Akashi?"
Hikoichi puffed his chest. "Hehe… Yes! When school started, Akashi joined the club, crushed the upperclassmen, suppressed Senior Sendoh, and even accepted Uozumi's challenge. That's how he became captain!"
Yayoi paused, impressed. "A first-year captain… suppressing Sendoh… defeating Uozumi… I'll have to see this captain for myself."
The next day, news of Ryonan's 50-point victory over Shohoku spread across Kanagawa, shocking the high school basketball scene.
Miuradai High: Captain Kengo Murasame scoffed. "Shohoku… just a motley crew. A first-year captain? Has Ryonan fallen so low?" Beside him, Tetsuya Naito, Miuradai's secret weapon, smirked. "If we meet in the league, they'll know true terror."
Takenozono High: Captain Oda Tatsumasa trained alone, eyes focused, whispering to himself, "Ryonan… Shoyo… Kainan… I won't lose to any of you."
Shoyo High: Captain Fujima Kenji heard reports calmly. "A first-year defeating Shohoku by 50 points… impressive, but only Kainan matters."
Kainan High: Coach Takato observed Maki and the team. "A rookie becoming captain shows skill. But in front of a true king, even a dazzling debut is just an overture."
Across Kanagawa, the rise of Akashi Seijuro became a spark: some marveled, some scoffed, some dismissed it. Yet all noticed. For now, this was just the beginning.