Such a powerful aura—
In the stands, players wearing jerseys from other schools couldn't help but draw sharp breaths, shock written plainly across their faces.
They had come to scout.
Yet before the game had even begun, their attention was completely seized by Ryonan.
An invisible pressure spread across the arena.
It was as if the air itself had grown heavier.
Even from the stands, one could clearly feel it—
a presence that belonged only to a truly powerful team.
Among those who felt it most keenly were the players of Kainan and Shoyo.
Shinichi Maki's gaze darkened.
His half-lidded eyes slowly narrowed, locking onto the Ryonan players on the court.
For a brief moment, an almost absurd illusion surfaced in his mind—
The team standing there was no longer Ryonan.
It overlapped with that overwhelming opponent from his memories…
the one Kainan had once fought with everything they had—and still failed to defeat.
"…This aura," Fujima Kenji muttered, unable to fully conceal his surprise.
He had faced countless strong teams, but Ryonan's presence today made his chest tighten.
Hanagata Toru instinctively pushed up his glasses, disbelief flickering behind the lenses.
"Today's Ryonan… is completely different."
The Shohoku players felt it too.
It was like running headlong into a wall of pressure.
Shock replaced their pre-game tension almost instantly.
"You've got to be kidding…" Mitsui Hisashi stared at Ryonan, disbelief thick in his voice.
"Since when did they have this kind of presence? Were they hiding their strength all along?"
Takenori Akagi's brows were deeply furrowed, forming a harsh crease.
A vein throbbed faintly at his temple.
His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening.
An uneasy weight pressed down on his chest.
Beating Ryonan had already been difficult enough.
Now, facing this suffocating presence, the burden felt even heavier.
On the bench, Anzai Mitsuyoshi sat quietly.
His fingers rested lightly on his knees, glasses flashing under the arena lights.
Decades in basketball—player, coach, observer—had given him a keen eye.
And at a glance, he understood.
This overwhelming aura wasn't accidental.
It was deliberate.
A psychological strike before the opening whistle—
meant to crush Shohoku's momentum and seize the initiative from the very first second.
"What a sharp tactic…" Anzai murmured softly.
His gaze shifted toward the red-haired figure at the front of Ryonan's formation.
Taoka Moichi wasn't the type to employ such methods.
Which meant—
This was the idea of Ryonan's first-year captain.
"Coach?" Ayako leaned closer, having caught only part of his words.
Anzai smiled gently and shook his head.
"Nothing. Please call everyone over. There are a few things I want to say before the game."
Ryonan's Side
Ryonan had finished their preparations.
Coach Taoka stood before them, his gaze moving across each player before settling on Akashi.
"On the court, follow Akashi's command," he said evenly.
"I'll handle timeouts if necessary."
"Yes!" the players replied in unison.
This arrangement was no longer unusual.
Since Akashi became captain, on-court control had naturally shifted to him—and no one questioned it.
The countdown clock ticked down.
Cheers in the stands rose higher, faster.
Then—
The referee stepped onto the sideline, a brand-new basketball tucked under his arm.
"Players, take the court!"
Akashi moved first.
A faint smile curved his lips as he stepped forward.
"Alright," he said calmly. "Let's go."
As Ryonan entered the court, Shohoku's players paused almost in unison.
Their eyes fixed on the red-clad figure leading the opposing team.
"…He's starting?" Kogure whispered, disbelief in his voice.
Even against Tsukubu, Akashi hadn't started.
Yet now, against Shohoku—
He was on the floor from the opening tip.
Akashi advanced toward the center line.
At the same time, Akagi approached from the opposite side.
They stopped.
Face to face.
The air between them tightened.
Akagi tilted his head slightly, eyes burning with resolve.
"This time, Shohoku won't lose so easily. Today, we will defeat Ryonan."
Akashi's expression didn't change.
His voice was calm—almost gentle.
"That's impossible."
He met Akagi's gaze evenly.
"The outcome of this game is already decided. Shohoku has only one ending—defeat."
A vein pulsed sharply on Akagi's forehead.
He clenched his fists, suppressing the anger boiling inside.
"Hmph."
Without another word, he turned and strode back to his half.
Akashi didn't react.
But just as he was about to turn—
A figure blocked his path.
Sakuragi Hanamichi.
Red hair blazing, eyes wide, he pointed straight at Akashi and shouted, loud enough for half the court to hear,
"Akashi! This time I'll beat you for sure! I, the genius Sakuragi Hanamichi, will make you fall flat on your face!"
Ryonan's side stirred.
"What's that idiot doing?" Koshino snapped.
"So arrogant," Ikegami said coldly.
Shohoku's players froze in embarrassment.
Akagi was already stepping forward—
Then—
"I'll give you a piece of advice."
Akashi's voice was calm.
His palm came to rest lightly on Sakuragi's shoulder.
"Only those who can meet my gaze without lowering their head are allowed to speak to me."
A faint pressure.
Nothing more.
Yet Sakuragi's body suddenly tipped.
His footing vanished.
Thump.
A dull sound echoed across the court.
Sakuragi landed squarely on the floor, sitting there in stunned silence.
The arena froze.
Sakuragi blinked up at Akashi, mind blank.
Akashi looked down at him, eyes utterly calm.
"Your head is held too high."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
No one understood what had happened.
"He just… fell?" Kiyota muttered.
"I didn't see anything," Jin said slowly.
Maki's eyes were sharp as blades, fixed on Akashi.
Even he had missed it.
Fujima frowned deeply.
"…What did he do?"
Miyagi rushed over, stepping protectively in front of Sakuragi.
"Hey—what's your problem?"
Akashi didn't answer.
He turned and walked back to Ryonan's half without a second glance.
Miyagi clenched his fists in frustration, then helped Sakuragi up.
"You alright?"
Sakuragi staggered, then steadied himself.
His face flushed purple with rage.
"You bastard! What did you do to me?!"
He surged forward—
"Hey!" Miyagi yanked him back.
"The referee's watching!"
Sakuragi froze.
He glanced sideways.
The referee was indeed frowning, whistle in hand.
Sakuragi swallowed his anger, glaring at Akashi's back as he retreated.
Even the referee was confused.
He hadn't seen a thing.
And yet—someone was on the floor.