Ryonan High School · Classroom Building
Morning sunlight streamed through the corridor windows, casting warm patches of light across the desks of Class 1-1.
The classroom slowly came alive—pages turning, chairs scraping softly, low laughter and whispers weaving together into the gentle noise of a new school day.
Kamishiro Ruri walked lightly toward Akashi's seat, her steps quiet, her expression carrying its usual gentle brightness.
"Congratulations, Akashi-kun, on another victory."
Her voice was clear and pleasant, like wind brushing against chimes.
Akashi looked up. His gaze remained calm, but the corners of his lips lifted faintly.
"Thank you."
This wasn't the first time.
After every match or intense training session, she was always the first to offer her congratulations—unexaggerated, sincere, and warm. Akashi never rejected that kindness. Victory was something worth acknowledging; pretending indifference served no purpose.
"What a pity…" Kamishiro sighed softly, a trace of regret flickering in her eyes. "I had family matters yesterday and missed the game. But I heard you played amazingly."
Akashi smiled lightly. "It was only a practice match. If you want to watch, you can come to the high school league."
"Mm!" She nodded eagerly, eyes sparkling. "I definitely will."
She paused, then suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Akashi-kun—I've decided which club to join."
"Oh?" Akashi raised an eyebrow slightly. "You've finally decided?"
"Yes." She nodded with unexpected seriousness. "The Press Club. I want to become a reporter."
"Press Club?" Akashi was mildly surprised. "A reporter?"
Seeing his confusion, Kamishiro chuckled.
"At first, I thought about joining the basketball club as a manager—like helping with towels and water. But… that didn't feel like I was truly supporting you."
Her gaze grew firm. "So I decided to support you in a different way. I want to be a sports reporter. Basketball, specifically."
Akashi paused.
"From now on," she said brightly, half-playful, half-serious, "every one of Akashi-kun's games will be recorded by me. I'll make sure all of Kanagawa knows your name."
Akashi let out a quiet laugh and shook his head.
"I look forward to working with you then, Miss Sports Reporter."
They exchanged smiles.
For people like them, club activities were only a fragment of youth—a chapter rather than a destination. Still, moments like this carried their own meaning.
Shohoku High School · Basketball Gym
Beep—!
A sharp whistle echoed through the gym.
"Gather up!"
Takenori Akagi stood at center court, voice booming like thunder.
The players halted, wiping sweat from their faces as they assembled.
Akagi scanned the group, his brows knitting briefly before smoothing out. "We started the year with many first-years. Now, only five remain."
"Tch." Sakuragi Hanamichi leaned back with his hands behind his head. "Those guys just couldn't handle real training and ran away!"
Akagi shot him a glare but said nothing.
"This happens every year," he continued. "Honestly, we're still doing fine."
Then his expression hardened.
"The regional qualifiers are approaching. From here on, it's just us."
Ayako stepped forward, notebook in hand.
"There are over two hundred high schools in Kanagawa," she said evenly. "Kainan University Affiliated High School—last year's champions. Ten consecutive appearances at nationals. Shoyo High School—runner-up, strength rivaling Kainan."
She paused.
"And Ryonan High School."
The gym fell silent.
The memory of the practice match weighed heavily on everyone—especially that red-haired figure who had controlled the court from start to finish.
Akashi Seijuro.
A Few Days Later
Ryonan High School · School Gate
The morning breeze stirred fallen leaves as a woman in a bright yellow striped suit approached the gate, heels clicking crisply against the pavement.
Aida Yayoi lifted her gaze toward the school emblem, a faint smile playing at her lips.
"Let's see how much weight Ryonan's new captain really carries."
She headed straight for the basketball gym.
Ryonan High School · Basketball Gym
The gym was alive with motion.
Under Akashi's command, the team trained with mechanical precision. Sweat soaked jerseys; footsteps, dribbles, and calls overlapped into a sharp rhythm.
Akashi stood on the sideline, arms crossed—not participating, but observing.
Every movement. Every breath. Every shift of balance.
He was analyzing.
"Sendo—your mid-range pull-up needs smoother rhythm. Raise your release point slightly."
"Uozumi-senpai—soften your wrist on release."
"Koshino—commit to help defense. Half a second late is already too late."
Each instruction cut cleanly into its target.
And without exception, the players adjusted immediately.
Aida Yayoi stopped at the entrance, stunned.
There was no resistance. No resentment.
This wasn't authority granted by title—it was authority earned.
She stepped closer. "Akashi-kun, I'm Aida Yayoi from Basketball Weekly. May I interview you?"
Akashi turned.
Their eyes met—and Yayoi felt her breath catch.
Heterochromatic eyes. One gold-red, one deep crimson. Calm. Bottomless.
"Yes."
The simplicity of his reply snapped her back to herself.
"Why were you chosen as captain despite being a first-year?" she asked.
"Because my abilities and understanding of the game were acknowledged," Akashi replied evenly.
"And why do your teammates trust you so completely?"
"Because every instruction I give is based on precise observation and inevitable outcomes," he said calmly. "When predictions repeatedly become reality, trust follows."
Yayoi froze for half a second.
This wasn't arrogance.
It was certainty.
After several more questions, Akashi finally said, "If that's all, I'll return to training."
"Wait," she blurted out.
"What is Ryonan's goal this year?"
The gym seemed to still.
Akashi met her gaze.
"The national championship."
No hesitation. No embellishment.
He turned and walked away.
Yayoi remained where she stood, heart racing.
For the first time, she wondered—
What if he wasn't exaggerating at all?