On the second day of the Youth Team's official training camp, Anzai Jitsurei watched the players' constant air balls and could only sigh helplessly.
Just as he had predicted, their physical condition had not recovered properly. Fatigue caused distorted movements, and it was easy to imagine how miserable their shooting percentages were.
For ordinary high school basketball teams, training three to four times a week was already considered normal. These were usually teams eliminated in the first or second round of the prefectural tournament. For them, basketball was more of a club activity—mainly for exercise.
More diligent teams, like Shohoku, trained every day with moderate intensity, aiming to qualify for the National Tournament.
Stronger programs such as Kainan and Ryonan not only trained daily, but did so with extremely high workloads, often pushing players to the point of exhaustion.
The Youth Team, however, trained twice a day.
Short sessions.
High frequency.
This was a serious test of both physical endurance and coaching ability.
Training arrangement itself was an art.
Of course, for a physical monster like Sakuragi, as long as he had enough food, he would be full of energy the next day. For him, fatigue barely existed.
After learning from yesterday's lunch incident, the cafeteria had prepared generous portions for dinner to ensure these ravenous teenagers were well fed—while still making sure the Nittaidai players didn't go hungry.
A perfect compromise.
The assistant coach walked over.
"Jitsurei, the morning session is finished. How should we arrange the afternoon?"
Anzai rubbed his cheek, looking troubled.
"Have them watch game footage. I'll borrow Coach Kawasaki's court and prepare the video."
Today was basically a loss for physical training.
They needed rest.
No matter how much the players asked, Anzai had already decided not to allow extra practice. Otherwise, the entire training schedule would collapse.
"Here."
Hyuga Yuichi handed over the tactical notebook he had promised yesterday.
Calling it a manual was generous—it was really just a small notebook, neither thick nor thin.
Nango accepted it with both hands.
"Thank you, Senior!"
Hyuga waved and returned to his teammates.
Nango immediately flipped through the pages, eyes lighting up.
The notebook recorded many common tactics, complete with diagrams showing positioning and movement.
This alone would be a huge help to Shohoku.
"School starts in a few days. Has Nango still not made up his mind?"
Facing Eri's question, Kano felt uneasy.
Saying "he won't come to Ryokufu" was easy.
Saying "he's going to Shohoku" was not.
If she said that, Eri would probably rush to her house in minutes.
So Kano could only stall.
"He's training with the Youth Team right now, really busy. When he gets back, I'll arrange for you two to meet and talk again, okay?"
"…Alright."
Eri wasn't satisfied, but she had no choice.
After all, Nango wasn't even in Kanagawa.
Besides, after waiting so long, she had already prepared herself for the worst.
After hanging up, Kano looked at the clock.
Almost ten o'clock.
"It's time…"
She took a deep breath and dialed a familiar number.
"Beep… Beep…"
Each tone made her heart pound.
"This is—"
"Mom! It's me!"
"Kano? Why are you calling? We were about to sleep. Oh right, school's starting soon. After this semester, your dad's job should stabilize, and we'll bring you to study with us…"
Mom is still as long-winded as ever…
"There's no rush about going to America," Kano said quickly.
"I have something important to discuss with you and Dad."
"What is it?"
"I want to transfer schools. To Shohoku High School."
"Transfer?!" Her mother's voice rose.
"Why? Isn't your current school very good?"
Her father got out of bed and took the phone.
"Kano, are you serious about transferring?"
"…Yes."
"Then tell Dad the reason."
Kano gathered her courage.
"Ryokufu is too far from home, and it's unsafe. Last time I was coming back, I ran into some delinquents. Luckily, some passersby helped me."
Her father's face went pale.
"When did this happen?!"
"A while ago…"
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?!"
"I didn't want you to worry. After that, I always walked home with classmates, but I can't keep relying on others forever. Shohoku is much closer to our house, and the route is along a main road. It's safer."
This explanation had been carefully planned with Nango.
Arguing about academic quality would never work—Ryokufu was a prestigious private school, while Shohoku was public.
Safety, however, was something parents could never ignore.
After a long silence, her father finally said,
"Alright. I agree to the transfer. Look into the procedures."
Kano exhaled softly.
"Okay. I'll ask my teacher."
They had gambled correctly.
Far across the ocean, her father spoke seriously,
"We should also start looking at schools near us. We need to bring Kano here as soon as possible. I'm not comfortable with her staying alone in Japan."
Her mother nodded, worry filling her eyes.