At 7:30 on Saturday morning, Sakuragi Hanamichi pushed open the side door of the gym.
The metal hinge let out a soft creak, sounding unusually loud in the still, sleeping campus.
After changing into his jersey, he began warming up with simple stretches.
He sat on the floor, legs spread, body leaning forward, feeling the slight sting in his hamstrings as they slowly loosened.
Then came his waist, his back, his shoulders.
Every muscle gradually awakened from its morning stiffness.
Once he finished stretching, he stood up and started dribbling.
The first few bounces felt awkward—his body still wasn't fully warmed.
But soon, the ball obediently danced beneath his hands, the rhythm steady and powerful.
"One… two… three…"
He counted softly, dribbling as he jogged around the court.
The standard-issue athletic shoes squeaked rhythmically against the floor, the sound echoing sharply in the quiet gym.
Reaching the basket, he stopped, jumped, and made a simple layup.
The ball kissed the backboard and dropped through the net.
Next came shooting drills.
He started under the rim and gradually stepped back. Every five makes, he moved one step farther.
Hook shots, bank shots, floaters—he practiced from every angle.
When he finally reached the three-point line, the gym door opened again.
Taoka Moichi walked in.
The coach was dressed neatly today, his hair combed to perfection.
But the moment he saw Sakuragi, the stern look on his face softened.
"You're here early again, Sakuragi," Taoka's voice echoed through the empty gym.
Sakuragi caught the rebounding ball and wiped the sweat from his face.
"Just a habit, Coach."
It was the truth.
In his previous life in the NBA, he had always been the first one in the training facility.
Waking up early had long since been carved into his bones.
Of course, he still couldn't compare to that 4:30 a.m. Los Angeles "mamba king."
Taoka nodded, saying nothing more—but the satisfaction in his eyes was impossible to hide.
The rest of the team arrived one by one.
Uozumi was the first. He paused when he saw Sakuragi, then nodded silently and began warming up.
Next came Koshino, Ikegami, Uekusa…
Everyone carried the drowsiness of an early weekend morning, but the moment they saw Coach Taoka's serious expression, their spirits snapped into place.
Only one person was still missing.
Sendoh Akira.
When Taoka checked his watch for the third time, his face was already as dark as burnt iron.
He glanced at Sakuragi, who was practicing pull-up jumpers, then at the empty doorway. His teeth ground together.
"That brat Sendoh…" Taoka muttered.
The other players froze. Even their dribbling softened, afraid to draw the coach's wrath.
The atmosphere in the gym turned heavy, broken only by the occasional swish of the net.
Just then
The gym doors were shoved open.
"Hohoho—sorry, sorry! I'm late"
Everyone turned toward the voice.
But it wasn't Sendoh.
It was Coach Anzai.
The round, smiling old coach walked in, followed by a group of players wearing Shohoku's red warm-ups.
Taoka's expression changed instantly—his iron face transformed into exaggerated enthusiasm. He hurried over.
"Coach Anzai! Welcome, welcome!"
He clasped Anzai's hand and shook it vigorously. "Thanks for coming all this way!"
"You're too kind, Coach Taoka," Anzai replied warmly, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses.
"Thank you for arranging this practice match."
While the two coaches exchanged pleasantries, Sakuragi's gaze drifted past them—to the Shohoku players.
The first to catch his eye was Akagi Takenori.
In person, he was even more imposing than in the manga.
About the same size as Uozumi.
That face… really did look like a gorilla—thick eyebrows, a square jaw, and a stern expression.
Beside him stood Rukawa Kaede, quiet and aloof.
Black hair, pale skin, sharp features, and that distant, untouchable aura.
Even among athletes, he stood out.
"So that's Rukawa Kaede?" Koshino Hiroaki whispered beside Sakuragi.
"He looks cold."
"They say he was a monster in middle school—ace player, nickname: The Fox of Tomigaoka," Ikegami added.
Sakuragi said nothing and continued observing.
There was Kogure Kiminobu, wearing glasses with a gentle smile.
And a few unfamiliar faces—probably the rest of Shohoku's roster.
Finally, his gaze landed on Ayako—a beautiful girl with a bold personality.
No wonder Ryota couldn't forget her.
Sakuragi had every reason to suspect that Miyagi Ryota had chosen Shohoku over Ryonan because of her.
Coach Taoka, you were too slow—if you'd recruited Ayako first, Miyagi would've followed!
"Akagi!"
Uozumi's voice drew everyone's attention.
He walked up to Akagi.
The two stood face to face, like two mountains about to collide.
"Akagi, today I'll show you what true domination in the paint looks like," Uozumi said in a deep, confident voice.
Akagi snorted. "Big words. Let's see you back them up on the court."
Their gazes clashed, sparks practically flying.
Everyone held their breath—even Taoka and Anzai paused their conversation.
Sakuragi almost wanted to pull out sunflower seeds.
This scene was better than a TV drama.
The gorilla and the monkey king—love and hate intertwined.
After the exchange, Akagi led Shohoku toward the visitor's locker room.
"That's Rukawa Kaede—Shohoku's rookie ace."
Aida Hikoichi appeared beside Sakuragi, notebook in hand.
"They say he's extremely strong—probably not much weaker than Sendoh-senpai. Just… really cold."
"Geniuses are all like that," Sakuragi replied casually.
"But you're a genius too—and you're not cold," Hikoichi said seriously.
Sakuragi laughed and patted his shoulder.
"Ha! So I'm a genius too?"
"Yes!"
Shohoku disappeared into the locker room.
The gym quieted again.
Ryonan continued warming up, but the air had changed—tight, charged, ready to explode.
Just then, a familiar voice echoed from the second-floor stands.
"Hanamichi!"
Sakuragi looked up.
Four heads leaned over the railing.
Mito Yohei, Takamiya Nozomi, Ohkusu Yuji, and Noma Chuichirou.
The Sakuragi Gang—fully assembled.
"You guys came too?" Sakuragi raised an eyebrow.
Takamiya's round face split into a bun-like grin.
"This is an important match—we had to cheer you on!"
"You're here to laugh at me," Sakuragi shot back.
"Both!" Ohkusu shouted.
"Hanamichi, how many points you getting today? Don't drag your team down!"
"I bet he won't last ten minutes!" Noma yelled.
"Five minutes!" Takamiya followed.
Sakuragi rolled his eyes and ignored them.
Time passed.
Shohoku returned in their red jerseys.
Akagi wore #4, Rukawa #10.
So even without him, Rukawa's number was still ten.
Taoka checked his watch for the fourth time.
Sendoh still hadn't arrived.
His face was dark enough to drip ink. He stared at the door, fingers tapping angrily on his tactics board.
Just as Coach Anzai finished Shohoku's warm-ups and both teams prepared for the opening ceremony—
The door opened.
Sendoh Akira strolled in, his hair still as messy—and effortlessly stylish—as ever.
"Sorry, I'm late," he said with a sheepish grin.
Taoka erupted.
"Sendoh!!!!!!!!"
The roar shook the gym—even the Sakuragi Gang flinched.
"Do you know what time it is?! The game is about to start! Do you think this is a picnic?!"
Sendoh blinked innocently.
"Sorry, Coach… I overslept…"
"Shut up! Go change—NOW!"
Under Taoka's thunder, Sendoh jogged toward the locker room. As he passed Shohoku, Rukawa's eyes followed him.
It was a gaze of assessment.
A gaze of challenge.
Kanagawa's geniuses recognized one another instinctively.
The Shohoku players whispered.
"That's Sendoh Akira?"
"They say he's really strong…"
"But he looks so laid-back…"
Five minutes later, Sendoh emerged wearing #7.
Taoka shot him a murderous look, but said nothing. The game came first.
He raised the tactics board and announced the starters.
"Center — Uozumi Jun!
Power Forward — Ikegami Ryoji!
Small Forward — Sendoh Akira!
Shooting Guard — Koshino Hiroaki!
Point Guard — Uekusa Tomoyuki!"
Sakuragi froze.
Then
"Substitutes: Yuradaira, Aida…"
Finally: "Sakuragi Hanamichi."
From the stands, Takamiya whistled.
"Told you—bench!"
Sakuragi ignored him.
He looked at Taoka.
The coach's face was calm—like this had been planned all along.
Both teams walked to center court.
The referee—Ryonan's P.E. teacher—stepped in with the ball.
Uozumi and Akagi faced each other.
Two giants.
Uozumi, 202 cm.
Akagi, 197 cm.
But Akagi's shoulders and muscle mass were even broader.
They bent their knees, eyes locked on the ball in the referee's hand.
The gym fell completely silent.
All eyes fixed on that orange sphere.
The referee tossed the ball upward.
The basketball spun into the air, rising to its peak.
Uozumi and Akagi jumped—
The game began.