Shohoku High School — Basketball Clubroom
The clubroom was cramped.
Yellowed walls bore the marks of age, fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, and the air carried the familiar scent of sweat and worn sneakers trapped inside all day.
Every member of the Shohoku Basketball Club stood shoulder to shoulder, their gazes fixed on the crookedly taped match schedule on the wall.
"Mokuji High School… Nanbara High School…"
Kogure Kiminobu adjusted his glasses, hesitation creeping into his voice. "I… I haven't really heard of any of these schools."
Tetsushi Shiozaki cut in urgently, pointing at the paper.
"That doesn't matter right now. The problem is Takezato."
His finger tapped a name with force.
"They're one of the prefecture's Top Four—just like Ryonan."
The memory of their practice match against Ryonan surfaced unbidden.
That suffocating pressure.
That helplessness.
Shiozaki knew better than anyone—none of the Top Four could be underestimated.
Takenori Akagi stood at the front of the room, brows drawn tightly together, eyes locked onto the characters Takezato High School as if they were a personal enemy. His fists clenched unconsciously at his sides.
Satoru Kakuta scratched his head and forced an awkward smile.
"C-calm down. This is a round-robin. Two teams advance from each group. Even if we lose to Takezato, as long as we beat Mokuji and Nanbara, we still have a chance."
Sakuragi Hanamichi snorted.
"What's Takezato? We'll just beat them. Why make it so complicated?"
Before anyone could retort, a calm, deep voice cut through the room.
"That's right."
Akagi slowly turned his head, crimson hair catching the light as his gaze swept across the team.
"As long as we defeat all our opponents," he said evenly, "the qualification will naturally be ours."
The room fell quiet.
Ayako lowered her documents, glancing up.
"There are only two venues. The first matches are Kainan from Group A and Ryonan from Group C. Groups B and D go after. Should we watch?"
"There's no need to watch Kainan," Kogure replied quickly. "They'll definitely win. If we're going to watch anyone, it should be Ryonan. Their opponent was Top Eight last year."
Silence.
Almost unconsciously, the same image surfaced in everyone's mind—
Crimson hair.
Heterochromatic eyes.
That overwhelming presence on the court.
"…Then let's go," Akagi said after a long pause.
Ryonan's reputation this year was simply too overwhelming to ignore.
And perhaps…
A Top-Eight team could force Ryonan to reveal something.
Shoyo High School — Basketball Club
Sunlight slanted through the windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the golden air.
Fujima Kenji sat quietly by the window, holding the freshly issued schedule. The paper was faintly creased beneath his fingers.
"Kasuga Daiichi…" he murmured, voice flat.
Hanagata Toru crossed his arms beside him.
"First time they've made it this far. Information's scarce. They probably just got lucky."
He chuckled lightly.
"They won't be a problem."
Fujima slowly lowered the paper.
"This year is different," he said calmly.
"There are too many variables."
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Sometimes you can tell who the champion is at a glance. But a dark horse—by the time you notice it, it's already stepping over you."
Hanagata opened his mouth… then closed it.
At Shoyo, Fujima's words carried weight.
After a moment, Fujima stood and stretched.
"We don't play tomorrow."
He glanced over.
"Want to go watch some games?"
"Kainan?" Hanagata asked hesitantly.
"No."
Fujima shook his head, gaze deepening like still water.
"Ryonan."
The Next Day — Sweet Sixteen Begins
Two matches drew the most attention:
Ryonan vs. Miuradai
Kainan vs. Sarashina
As the tournament entered the Sweet Sixteen, it was no longer a simple school competition.
Media presence surged.
Fans poured in from across the prefecture.
Even outside the gymnasium, cheers and vendor calls echoed endlessly.
Between the two venues—
Ryonan's court was unmistakably more crowded.
No one doubted Kainan's outcome.
Sarashina High School was unheard of—a team that scraped through each round with narrow wins, never producing an upset.
Against the reigning champions?
The result was obvious.
But Ryonan vs. Miuradai was different.
A Top-Four powerhouse versus a consistent Top-Eight contender.
Not flashy—but dangerous.
The air already carried the scent of gunpowder.
Ryonan vs. Miuradai — Inside the Arena
Bright lights bathed the wooden floor in white brilliance.
On the second-floor corridor, two figures hurried out.
Aida Yayoi adjusted her sharp business suit, hoop earrings swaying as she checked her watch.
"Perfect timing," she said. "Hasn't started yet."
Beside her, Nakamura Taizo adjusted his glasses.
"Um… Aida-senpai, shouldn't we be covering Kainan?"
She scoffed lightly.
"That's exactly why we're not."
She glanced down at the empty court.
"A champion versus an unknown team—there's no suspense. No value."
Her lips curved faintly.
"This matchup, though? That's worth watching."
Nakamura nodded fervently.
"Amazing foresight, senpai!"
Then he asked,
"Who do you think will win?"
Aida paused.
The answer was obvious—
Bang!
Bang!
The iron doors slammed open.
The arena fell silent.
The Teams Enter
From Miuradai's entrance came muffled voices, distorted by the narrow corridor.
"Five straight 100-point wins? Big deal."
"Our real enemy is Kainan."
"This year… we'll avenge last year."
"What is Ryonan anyway—"
The voices cut off.
Miuradai's players emerged, expressions stern and unyielding.
At the front—Kengo Murasame, their captain.
The crowd murmured.
"They look serious."
"That center's huge."
"This Miuradai feels different…"
Then—
From the opposite entrance, Ryonan stepped out.
First—
A crimson-haired figure in a white warm-up jacket.
Heterochromatic eyes as deep as an abyss.
Akashi Seijuro.
The instant he appeared, the arena stilled—just for half a breath.
Behind him, Uozumi's towering frame followed, pressure rolling off him like a wall.
Then Sendoh, hands in his pockets, smile lazy and unfathomable.
When Ryonan fully emerged—
The stadium erupted.
Cheers, whistles, waving arms—sound crashing like a tidal wave.
"They're here!"
"That's Ryonan's new captain!"
"Sendoh—look this way!"
"Is that Uozumi?!"
The air vibrated.
Across the court, the players' gazes collided.
Miuradai smirked openly, arrogance written across their faces.
Ryonan said nothing.
They merely looked back—calm, silent, unmoved.
At this moment, words were meaningless.
Everything would be decided—
On the court.